#like how silly does Kat the Bat sound?

[inkabelledesigns]

So I've been trying to puzzle this out for a while, and I think I'm close to finally having a design I like for a Sonic styled persona. I wanna get something a little more finished done, but I really like this sketch, so I'm sharing it! She's a long-tailed bat, partially because I'm known for voicing Rouge in fan projects, but it's also because I genuinely like bats. Like, bats are cool! Also I want wings, if I'm gonna represent myself in a cool alternate universe, I wanna be able to fly darn it! And have fangs, fangs are cool as heck. I'm just jazzed I finally have something that feels comfortable, it's a really good feeling!

[thesinglesjukebox]

PEGGY GOU - "(IT GOES LIKE) NANANA"

It's summer somewhere, and it's also 9PM somewhere.

[7.05]

Kat Stevens: Peggy's continued shameless tactic to lure me in with random snippets from Ibiza Anthems vol 1-4 mixed by Alex P & Brandon Block is absolutely working. [8]

Oliver Maier: Absolute head-empty stuff. Pretty 90s inasmuch as it sounds like "I Like To Move It" for a corporate boat afterparty. In, like, Dubai. [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The kind of big dumb pop hit that feels all the sweeter after a half-decade of sophisticated, fashionable house music from Peggy Gou. Somehow, I feel like this is her true form -- a hook-focused trickster spirit hitting all the dopamine release points as quickly as possible. Everything else -- all the long-form odyssey-like qualities of her earlier work, all the couture and style and glamor -- fades away. In pop music -- and "Nanana" is excellent pop music -- all that is secondary to the sheer sugar-rush joy on display here. [9]

Crystal Leww: Peggy Gou has made something like five songs in like five years, and yet somehow her status in dance music is now enormous -- she regularly sells out massive crowds in at least three continents despite incredible price tags (her last NYC show was on a Wednesday and tickets were one hundred and forty eight American dollars each). Yet, if you've ever seen a video of Peggy Gou DJing, it's all cameras up, with no one seemingly doing any actual dancing except maybe Peggy herself. Her whole schtick is like the culmination of the blurring of lines between DJ and influencer -- it's seemingly just as important to be seen at a Peggy Gou show as it is to actually enjoy a Peggy Gou show. All this being said, all five or so of Peggy's songs sound so incredibly warm and timeless despite the fact that they are perfectly engineered to trend chase after all. "(It Goes Like) Nanana" hops on the trance and eurodance revival that's been percolating the last two years, with an unmissable ATB sample and yet unlike what it's ripping -- corny, goofy, silly -- it's engineered to be so cool, conjuring images of exclusive parties on yachts and perfect bob haircuts that cost $1,000 a pop. "It Goes Like (Nanana)" works because it gives anyone a chance to feel like they could be a part of that exclusivity - it's a song meant to played in rooms with wood paneling and on expensive soundsystems while twirling around in circles with your best friends. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: She used to be good, what the freak happened? Are we all so desperate to run back to 1985 just cause Studio Ghibli was founded that year? They're not shuttered yet! [5]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Peggy Gou never changes, nor does she need to. [7]

Ian Mathers: She just doesn't miss! What's that? Lenny Kravitz? No idea what you're talking about. [8]

Scott Mildenhall: Finally, a song worthy of a one-hour YouTube loop. Peggy Gou's work doesn't feel formulaic so much as geometric -- "Nanana" has the colour and kinetics of a game of Breakout, pinballing predictably, but forever satisfyingly. [8]

Katherine St Asaph: Bliss is the absence of thought. [7]

Alfred Soto: In Peggy Gou's eternal 1998 and 1987, plinkety-plonkety pop house is the lingua franca. I'll admit to confusing "(It Goes Like) Nanana" and Kylie Minogue's "Padam Padam." Who wouldn't? [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: nah nah nah [4]

Claire Biddles: The Peggy Gou: The Complete Singles compilation that comes out in 2034 is going to be the greatest dance pop album of all time. [8]

Edward Okulicz: I didn't have "Peggy Gou gets an actual hit single" on my 2023 bingo card, but if you'd told me that it was going to happen last year with a song that steals as much from K-Klass as it does from ATB, I wouldn't have batted an eyelid. The whole song's as slick as the little "9PM" guitar line and if it's too soft to be a real floor filler, that seems like a decision rather than a flaw. [8]

Aaron Bergstrom: Answering the question, "How do you get from 'I Go' to 'featuring Lenny Kravitz" in one step?" [6]

David Moore: I love the small touches in this, especially the chintzy pitch-bend synth guitar, even though this song's massive success after "I Go" kind of feels like when a major director finally gets an Oscar for a merely competent movie after getting snubbed for their masterpiece. I'll take it, though. [7]

Peter Ryan: In the right light a bit of a supercut of Annie's Endless Vacation tracks. I can't complain; Gou's track swells in sync with the lyric's devolution into a heady non-verbal state. She gets it -- don't think, just move. [9]

Brad Shoup: Now this is a Eurodance text: verb choices just a couple degrees away from expected, similar clauses chained together, a big arrow pointing at the universal hook. If ATB could clone his hit i don't see why Gou can't. I dunno if this is a one-off trance dalliance but if not: try "The Lonely One" next. [7]

Taylor Alatorre: A dance song which performs its intended function ably and effectively, and which is committed to becoming a throwback club hit even as it is afraid to commit to representing anything beyond that. Those little bent synth phrases after the chorus sound cool. [6]

Will Adams: A panoply of musical choices designed to hit every pleasure point in my brain -- mindless, wordless hook; house piano chords; organ bass; synthetic guitar straight from an ATB classic -- that its slightness doesn't really matter. [7]

Vikram Joseph: This deserves to be heard under a high sun by a glittering sea so much that, listening to it for the first time right now, I almost want to hold myself back from it so that I can save it for the summer of '24. But to do so would be futile, because there's nothing delayed about the gratification that "(It Goes Like) Nanana" provides. It's so deeply kinetic, decorated with lashings of house piano, sweet pulses of synth and a fleeting quarter-century echo of the motif from "9 PM (Till I Come)"; it might have a big, dumb club-goading chorus but it's also smart enough to under-stay its welcome. Best just to give yourself entirely to it -- I mean, it's summer somewhere. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[seasonsofeverlark]

you & I (just meant to be)

Author: @rosegardeninwinter​

Prompt: This silly, silly ditty was inspired by two (count ‘em! two!) lovely prompts which are as follows “Peeta can’t stop staring at Katniss in her costume :0” and “Everlark meeting at a fancy dress party dressed as a ‘matching’ pair, although they don’t each other - maybe a famous couple but who don’t need the other … Joker and Harley Quinn, Batman and Robin or my favorite: Anna and Elsa from Frozen … Peeta would make a wonderful Anna” - I thought these two went well together, and took a couple of creative liberties to make them jive. Hope you lovelies like! [submitted by @deardiaryithinkiamaghost​ and @wendywobbles​]

Rating: T, for implied Everlark shenanigans 

Author’s Note: Thank you to my dear @archersandsunsets​ for her second pair of eyes on this one and to all the lovely moderators and coordinators of @seasonsofeverlark​, the true MVPs. It’s been a busy month, so I apologize for any incoherence. Sometimes, the heart just wants goofy modern AU fluff. Alrighty, Chatty Cathy is done … enjoy! 

____________

“Katniss, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Prim exclaims, though it sounds pretty pathetic with her congested, pinked nose. “You make the perfect ice queen!” 

“I don’t think that’s usually a compliment,” Katniss says dourly, plopping down on the couch where her sister is situated with several fuzzy blankets, a box of tissues, and a large bowl of ice cream. She can’t taste it very well, but it’s the spirit of the thing that counts. Prim is in denial. 

“I wish I could go,” she whines, holding the “o” in a long, dramatic note. 

“I wish I could stay,” Katniss shoots back, holding the “ay” just as long. 

“No you don’t,” Prim shoos. “You love our friends.” 

“I do,” Katniss sighs, plucking at the silver sequined sleeves of her—well, Prim’s—Elsa costume. It’s too long on Katniss, with her sister’s good half inch on her, but it’s all they’ve got. Her original plan was to pull the classic black top and pants plus cat ears, but when it became apparent Prim wasn’t budging from the couch this Halloween, the real snowy blonde princess of the family had insisted Katniss take her outfit. 

“You can’t show up to Finnick’s in a slapdash, last second costume, Katniss,” she’d said. “The man lives for Halloween. Don’t insult his extravagance with plastic headbands and tails.” 

“I do love our friends, but … I don’t want to go out tonight. I’m tired.”

“Just half an hour,” Prim says. “Snag me some candy, make some pleasantries” — “okay, Jane Bennet” —  “and then come home. At least one of us needs to show up. Just pretend to have a social life for thirty minutes, okay? For me.” 

Katniss rolls her eyes as she gets up from the couch in a twinkling of blue overlay and snowflake hair pins in her braid. She does a quick once over of her shadowy makeup in the hallway mirror as she grabs her car keys. “What do you want?” 

“Chocolate. Anything with chocolate and peanut butter. I’ll save it for when I can experience taste again,” Prim calls back. “Oh, and if Delly’s cousin is there, all of the cupcakes he brought.”

“Mmkay. All the chocolate and cupcakes, coming right up,” Katniss says with a resigned smile. On her way out, she clicks on her phone. It’s just now eight. She resolves to be firmly ensconced in bed by nine at the latest. She gives her sister a wave, keys jangling. “I’ll be back. Soon.” 

At ten thirty, Prim looks up from her Harry Potter induced doze to find she’s received a text from her sister. 

Staying a little later. Fifteen minutes maybe. Have the treats.  

Prim checks the time stamp. The text was sent forty five minutes ago. This might be cause for alarm were it not for the text underneath Katniss’s, from Finnick. It’s a photo, taken in front of a makeshift photo op with purple and silver and orange streamers in the background and cutesy little bat and pumpkin and vampire fang cardboard props for people to hold up. It’s captioned “You can’t marry a man you just met!” 

Prim brings her hand to her mouth to catch a laugh before it turns into a cough. Her sister, Elsa costume sparkling in the flash, is pretending to shake her finger disapprovingly at her “Anna” counterpart. The laugh breaks free this time. Prim grabs for her tepid tea to soothe her throat as she cracks up over the really incredible image of Peeta Mellark, Delly Cartwright’s stocky older cousin, in a red braided wig, and strikingly accurate green rosemaled gown, sitting quite comfortably, if amusingly, over his athletic build. He’s pretending to gripe back at Katniss about why exactly he can marry Hans of the Southern Isles. Their mock scowls barely contain smiles. 

Prim quickly fires a text back to Finnick: How??? Did that happen??? 

Finnick’s text comes through a second later: The Lord works in mysterious ways! Idk!

Okay but like?? Yes??

I know!!!!

Some people are worth melting for???? 

Her cold never bothered him anyway? *finger guns*

Omg. 

Katniss arrives back at the house at five to midnight, and Prim pretends to be asleep, watching with one eye cracked half open as her sister unstraps her silver heels and dumps them by the front door, drops her keys into the bowl. Sets down a full bag of what Prim can only guess are cupcakes and sweets. 

She’s humming under her breath. It sounds like the chorus of “Love is an Open Door.” Prim wonders if it’s possible that her folk and indie music loving sister actually listened to a Disney album on the way home. Katniss unbraids her hair and shakes it loose, dropping the pins on the side table as she sinks into the squashy chair kitty-corner to Prim’s couch. She curls up, knees to chest, making her look like some sort of ice mermaid as she takes out her phone and taps something on it, still humming. Prim watches her chew her cheek pensively, as if deciding to send the text. She takes a deep breath and taps one final time on the screen, then drums her phone nervously against her lips for a moment. Prim’s nerves are firing with anticipation. 

They wait a silent minute. Two. Three. Three and a half — 

Katniss’s screen lights up again and she flips the phone up to stare at the reply. Her whole face softens. Eyes, brow, edges of her mouth. Katniss bites her lip and closes her eyes, letting her head fall back onto the chair cushion with a contented sigh. “‘You know what’s crazy?’” she sing-songs in a mumble under her breath. “‘We finish each other’s sandwiches … I’ve never met someone who thinks so much like …” She yawns. “Me.” 

“You know,” Prim says, and Katniss shrieks, sending her phone flying to the carpet, “Peeta Mellark strikes me more as a Kristoff than a Hans.” 

“Prim!” Katniss yelps, going red. “Wha — what? What do you mean?” 

“So we’re done with stupid plastic cat ears for Halloween then I take it?”

[the very next Halloween] 

“Whoa. Okay.” Peeta sits up from the pile of cushions at the head of their bed, eyes wide and staring in approval, pupils gone dark. “Katniss Everdeen in cat ears is not something I knew I needed until this moment.” 

“Oh sure,” Katniss laughs. “Because it’s definitely the cat ears that are doing it for you. Not these.” She hoists one stockinged leg up onto the bed like a mountain climber posing for a magazine. 

“Well, those are certainly part of the appeal,” he teases, reaching for her leg, running his hands up and down the silk tights. “As is this lovely number.” He toys with the hem of her dress, a strapless black velvet thing that falls just above her knee. “Where’s this from?”

“Jo,” Katniss sighs. “She says if I’m going to be a cat, I need to be a Gretchen Wieners level cat.” 

“For whose benefit, I wonder?” Peeta muses, cheek nuzzling gently at her lower thigh. 

“You wonder?” Katniss laughs, taking her leg away and flopping onto the bed. She glances over at him, eyes sly and somehow soft at once. “I don’t.” 

“I can’t help thinking,” he muses. “that this is something of a counterproductive plan on Jo’s part. Because now, I have a sudden and distinct interest in staying in tonight.” 

“Oh?” Katniss raises a come hither eyebrow and pushes up on her elbows to accept the kiss he plants on her lips as he crawls over her, urging her back to the headboard. “Is it the cat ears?” She reaches up to give the (already molting) plastic and faux fur ears a flick. 

“The Kat ears,” he says. He nips softly at her real ear and she shivers. “The Kat nose.” He kisses that too. His nose nudges her head back, inclining her neck at the perfect angle for him to plant a stretch of kisses down it. “The Kat neck.” His mouth wanders down the front of her dress and he scoots down the bed with it. “The Kat’s cradle.”

“You have that,” she says, hiking her legs up to hug around his middle because her arms can’t reach to hold him. “You’ll always have that.” 

“A piece of that Kit Kat bar.” He kisses her stomach. “The whole Kit and Caboodle,” he teases and she laughs loudly, but on a dime his tone is changing, from silly and playful into husky and dangerous, as he moves lower. “Kitten,” he murmurs and her fingers curl in the bedsheets at the name. “Grab my phone,” he tells her, hooking his fingers around the band of her tights, “Tell Finnick we’re going to be late.” 

An hour or so later finds the cat ears lost somewhere among the remains of their costumes and a hasty snack of pepperoni rolls cooking in the convection oven. Peeta, festooned in boxers and an old apron, presides over the food like it needs a baker’s supervision. Katniss perches on the counter, wrapped chest to toes in the white sheet she pulled from their bed, feet batting absently at the cabinets. 

“This is a good look too,” he tells her, gesturing with the salad tongs he’s using to handle the pepperoni rolls. 

“What is? This sheet?” 

“I was thinking more along the lines of sexy ghost.” 

“Or sexy Roman senator,” she laughs, tossing one edge of the sheet over a bare shoulder. “Sexy Julius Caesar.”

“You’d make a good Julius Caesar,” he says. 

“Why?”

“You’ve got that “came, saw, conquered” vibe. Least that’s how I felt that night at Finnick’s party.”

“Conquered?” 

“I was gonna say seen, but — yes. Conquered too. I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He snaps his fingers. “Sexy ice queen? Definitely.” 

“I’m not exactly sure what kind of Freudian analysis one could make on falling in love with the guy dressed as your fictional sister but — ”

Peeta shrugs as the timer beeps, and he sets to fishing the pepperoni rolls onto a plate for them to share. “I choose to think of it as a metaphor for how the two people you love most in the world are your real, actual sister …” He sets the rolls beside her on the counter and sets his hands gently on her sides. She lets the sheet fall and pool slightly around her waist to cup his face as he leans in to kiss her forehead, very gently, thumbs rubbing circles on her hips. “And some loser who has the luck of … oh, I guess having the same first initial and hair color as she does,” he jokes. 

“And the same beautiful heart,” Katniss corrects in a whisper. “I mean that.” She’s rarely so sentimental to anyone except him. She smirks. “And I haven’t even started drinking yet.” 

“Well, my pretty kitty,” he starts, wrapping both his arms around her middle and hoisting her off the counter. She rolls her eyes, even as her hands card through his hair. “The night is still young.” 

[twinkleallnight]

I am sorry for the long break and thank you if you are still there looking for the update.

Marshmallow

Story till now: Drake has build up his individual life as a veterinary and is working at the royal palace. His childhood friends Liam( having a social season), Max ( sponsoring Riley) and Olivia ( a mystery, may be they had a past) are moving on in their lives. Drake has met Hana and is attracted to her but is confused. At the Beaumont bash he is seated with Hana and Olivia for dinner. God help him.!

For previous chapters: Catch up here

The Debate

Book: The Royal Romance AU

Pairing: Drake x Hana.

Word count: 1,681

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Thank you @yourmajesty09 for beta reading!

“Hell, this is going to be one crazy night!” I shuffle in my chair with discomfort.

“Why now, Mr Walker? You seem to have forgotten too soon all the fun we had. Together.” Livy raises her left brow, an indication of an impending doom she is about to cast.

Hana clears her throat, making Livy shift her gaze and she aims at Hana now. “A very good evening to you too, Lady Hana! Your presence has not gone unnoticed. I wonder what your parents have to say for your blooming relationship with a commoner.” I wince at that but I think its better to ignore.

“He has shown more integrity than any of the nobles here. I am sure they will be pleased to meet him, not that it is any of your business.” Hana retorts.

Hana 1, Olivia 0.

I make a mental note and quietly sip the hot and sour soup in front of me.

The next moment Hana’s eyes are warm as she smiles at me. Her hand rests on my thigh. “He is a thorough gentleman. I have known him for six months now.”

“And I know him since I was six years old.” Livy says in a cold voice.

Olivia 1

“I am not counting quantity. It’s the quality time that matters. And I am blessed to have it all.” Hana keeps looking into my eyes, totally ignoring the fiery duchess. I try giving her the pleading look, in an effort to tell her about the unconquerable Nevrakis. In vain!

Hana 2 Olivia 1. I quietly stick to counting.

Hana seems to be unstoppable today as she continues, “We can talk anything on earth with each other.”

Livy cuts through, “We never felt the need to talk, it was understood.”

I groan but the girls are not even noticing me anymore. Livy continues her attack, “You sound like that stupid girl Anna hardly knowing her fake Prince Hans.” My eyes go wide, it’s unlike Livy to be quoting a fairy-tale. But she is not giving me any heed, and rather fans her hand casually at me with her sharp words. “Just because he moves around with a prince doesn’t make him a prince material”.

Hana “Why does only a prince complete a fairy tale? I am proud to have the one you call a commoner, to sum up my tale. And it’s not just about knowing him. It’s the comfort he gives me.

This is really hot and sour; I don’t know if I am relishing the sour taste of the soup or the heated talk between the ladies. Wait, how is this happening? Since when did I become so much important between ladies? Wasn’t this Liam’s routine?

I lose the count of the score of the debate.

----------

As the dinner wraps up, we are still at the end of the hall, standing near our table. Bertrand is bidding farewell to the king and queen as the formal party comes to an end. Liam is standing next to him with Riley on his side. They share a joke and smile at each other, lost in their own world.

Hana winds her hands around my arm and is unable to contain herself. “Aww they are so sweet together!”

Livy standing on my other side, still in bad mood says, “What’s sweet about it? Giggling like fools all the time.”

“That’s what love does. Makes you happy.” I finally speak. Livy's eyes narrow down on me and she storms away to stand with Madeleine ahead.

“So much for a peaceful dinner!” I sigh. “What’s gotten into you?” I chuckle at Hana.

She sniggers, “I wish she accepts herself. I don’t know what she is trying to hide behind her fierce look. She is sweet inside, isn’t she?”

My gaze settles at Livy's tall figure standing at a distance. Many fond memories of the soft- and warm-hearted girl I knew once, flood my mind. “ Yes, she has been the most caring and loving girl I have known as I grew up.” I place my free hand on Hana’s hands that are still clinging on to my arm.

We all move to the Grand hall for the after dinner festivities. It is more of chaos with everyone engaging in the revelry.

As Hana is pulled into a zig with Max and Riley, I excuse myself to the bar. Liam joins me in some time. “Enjoyed your dinner?” he smirks.

“Seems the king takes pleasure in pain of his subjects.”

He gives out a hearty laugh. “Your expressions were quite comprehensive. You should be glad you were left in one piece after that interaction with the Nevrakis Duchess.”

“I don’t know what I have done, to be her target all the time!”

“She is going through something, I guess. She should be back soon. Don’t worry.” Liam reassures.

“I wish I could help her.” I sigh. “But right now, I need to concentrate on something else.”

“Something or someone?” Liam asks.

“Yes, someone I mean.”

“And does this someone happens to be Lady Hana?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes boss! Hana it is. Since her last conversation with her parents, she seems to be more bold, more rebellious and aggressive.”

“And what are you scared of? Commitment?”

“I don’t know exactly. She is here on her parent’s behest who are looking for some prince or Duke or a lord as a match for her.”

“Well even my parents expected that. Marrying into a noble house. Yet, here I am…” he says fondly looking at Riley.

“Hana belongs to a very different part of the world, Liam, where it’s union of families and not just two people. The equations, the restrictions, the complications are all whirling up and my own feelings feel like being curbed under all those expectations.”

“Why don’t you take one step at a time? Start by speaking out your feelings first to the lady. You can deal with other matters later.”

“Hmm.”

“I think time to stop pondering and take some action.” He looks across my shoulder. I turn around to find Hana walking towards me. “All the best.” Liam whispers in my ear and walks away.

Hana sways smiling at me. “Hana, how much did u drink?”

“ Enough to forget the worries and enjoy the moments.”

I look around and find that most of the guests are falling off one by one. I sit with Hana at the bar as she continues saying silly things in her tipsy mood. After few more shots, she manages a sprig of mint from the bartender and starts plucking out the leaves. “He loves me, he loves me nottt, he loves me, he loves me….”

“Hana, what are you trying?” I interrupt by holding her fingers plucking at the leaves.”

“Shhh! I am trying to find out if Drake loves me.” She whispers a note higher.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“He won’ttt tell me.” She says with extra emphasis on the T.

“How do you know that if you never asked him?”

“His horse told me. You know his favourittte one. Amber. She told me aaaall.” Hana dragged her last word.

“And just how did this Amber tell u all?”

“As a matter of facttt, she neighed.” Hana explained in worldly wise manner. How can she be so cute and stupid at the same time, I thought? Drunk Hana is cute!

“She said that he won’t tell?” I am finding this charming.

“Yessss.”

“Well, I think you should try asking him once. I am sure he won’t hide.”

“He won’tttt.”

“Nope.”

She suddenly straightens up, “Drake Walker, do you…”

“Not here, Hana. Not now.” I literally snub her. I am rather taken aback by her action. I am scared. I need to accept.

She pouts her lips and slumps back on her stool. I cover her tiny hands with mine and look into her honey orbs.

“Talk to him when you are sober and I promise he will open up to you.”

“Promisss?” Her eyes sparkle.

“Promise!”

Soon it’s just the hosts, Liam and Hana left around me.

Hana takes another shot that Max offers. “Hana, I think you have had enough.” I try to warn her but she is distracted by Max as he starts bragging about his peacocks that he has as pets.

“Aww, that must be so cute.” Hana squeals like a child. “Wǒ ài xióngmāo. Tāmen zuì kě'ài”

“Hana, English please. None of us understands Chinese.”

“Panda, I would love to have pandas as pets. They are cute."

Riley hugs or I may say literally hangs with her arms around Liam’s neck as she purrs, “No one is as cute as my blue -eyed beauty.” She pinches Liam’s cheeks.

Amused, Liam looks at me, “Guess we are the only two sober here.”

“I am awake and in senses too.” Max

Hana swings on my arm. “Would you like to have pandas?” She bats her eyes innocently at me.

“Sure, we can talk about it later. We need to get you back to the palace now. It’s late.” I push towards the exit.

Riley is ecstatic as she stands with Max to see us off while we get into the limo.

Hana cuddles up to me and Liam sits across grinning at me.

Hana’s eyes are almost drooping as she lifts her head and nails it, “Drake, I wanna be your duck!”

I slap my forehead and instantly plead, "Hana, you are better talking Chinese please.”

Liam has covered his mouth and is unsuccessfully trying to control his laughter. Max is doubled over, laughing out while Riley tries to decipher what just happened. I wish everyone was as drunk as Hana at that moment. She tilts her head on my shoulder and shuts her eyes blissfully. Thankfully the vehicle moves and I am relieved.

By the time we reach the palace Hana has passed out. Liam helps me by directing us through the backdoor entry so that no one notices as I carry Hana in my arms to her room.

I tuck her in her bed and quickly retrieve to my room.

My phone buzzes with a message alert.

I keep my phone aside and crash down in the bed. I groan and speak to the walls, 'Good night Livy. Dont have the energy right now for the debate.'

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