#I think that shit post prepared me to actually read the book coz I was like well now I know who’s gonna die and just read it

[a-little-disguised]

SPOILERS FOR CROOKED KINGDOM

I can’t believe I put off reading crooked kingdom for months coz I had an inkling feeling that someone was gonna die and I was too mentally fragile to bear it (also I had assignments and exams)

Anyway a few days ago, a day before my final exam I saw this on Pinterest

THIS SHIT POST MEME spoiled my most anticipated book

Anyway I just finished reading it and knowing what’s gonna come didn’t make it any less heart wrenching

[peaky-malachai]

﹒☼﹒

UPON RETURN ⎟  T. SHELBY

﹒♱﹒

✒︎requested: no i just loved the gif ✒︎warnings: swearing & narcotics + mentions of blood, bruises & violence && lots of tension ✒︎word count: 5000+ ✒︎season set: 1

[originally posted on my wattpad, bc idk how to post via tumblr but we tryin’. feedback majorly appreciated x]

﹒♱﹒

You took a deep breath as you lifted your bruised and dried bloody knuckle to the oh so familiar door. A thousand thoughts racing through your mind as you tapped your foot, both with impatience and disconcertment of what consequences would follow. 

You had moved to Small Heath at the age of seven, give or take, your father had got a job promotion which meant moving up country. When you first arrived you were known as 'The Cockneys At The Bottom Of Watery Lane'. You weren't even from London. You just happened to live near the capital. Not that anyone cared.

When you started school it was the same, only worse. All the girls would pick on you for speaking funny and the boys would pick on you for being too 'brash'. It wasn't your fault your parents had raised you to not take any shit. With your fathers line of work, he wasn't around an awful lot which mean you and your mother had to do a lot of things yourself. Which you, of course, didn't mind but it did mean that a lot of people would be confused and usually straight up rude.

They'd say things along the lines of, 'Whys a women doing this' and, 'Are women even capable of doing that', and so on, when you and your mother were doing the simplest of things.

Anyway, when you joined the school in Small Heath you found that being a girl with her head held high and strong arms wasn't easy.

One day you were minding your own business under the oak tree in the corner of the playground, reading Oliver Twist, if you remember correctly. When out of nowhere a group of kids made their way over to you; three girls and about five boys, all looking irritated.

"Wot ya doing, girl?", a boy with a scarf on asked you.

You rolled your eyes, turning to look at him as you put your bookmark in your book, "I have a name, you know?".

The boy scowled, "I don't care".

'What do you want?', you asked again, looking at the rest of them, "I'm busy".

A girl took a step forward, her hands behind her back as her plaits fell in front of her shoulders, "Just wanted to know why you're such a freak?".

You laughed, "I'm not a freak", you stood up.

"Yeah you are", a little boy from the back spoke up, "Ya read all the time n wear trousers". Another girl nodded, "Yeah girls don't wear trousers, they're for boys, ya freak".

"Girls can wear trousers too, you know?", you crossed your arms, "They're actually really comfortable".

The first boy that spoke to you shook his head, "I bet you wear trousers coz your mum n dad can't afford dresses, ay?", he said as he turned to look at his friends.

You didn't think twice before you lunged forward and brought the boy to the ground, "Fuck did you just say?", you spat as his friends gasped. When the boy didn't answer you shook him by his collar a little, "Didn't hear you".

"I said", he spoke, "You're poor and a freak of a girl", he sniggered.

You narrowed your eyes and lifted your fist before hitting him in the nose. He yelled and pushed you, knocking you slightly but you didn't fall over.

The kids started shouting "Fight... Fight... Fight...", causing a crowd of other kids to come running.

Soon enough you had hit him about four times before you heard an older voice, "Wots going on 'ere then?". You turned around to see three boys in flat caps, the voice belonging to the tallest.

"Wot's it look like?", you said, "I'm beating him u-", you were cut off as the boy beneath you grabbed one of your braids, yanking you down to the floor with him.

You quickly kicked him in the stomach before the three boys grabbed you and held you back, the other boy groaning in pain.

Walking you away as you shouted the boys laughed.

"Wot's your name then?", the smallest one asked as they sat you on a bench. You kept your chin up as you studied them, "Y/N", you narrowed your eyes, " 'ho uh you's then?".

The other two boys looked at each-other and chuckled before turning back to you, "That", they motioned to the smallest boy, "Is John". You nodded. "I'm Arthur", the tallest said before turning to the boy in the middle, "And this is-".

"I'm Tommy", he said as he held his hand out for you to shake, "These are my brothers".

You shook his hand and sat up straighter, "So Wot?", you began, "Yous the topdogs 'ere or sumin?", you asked.

They laughed as John spoke, "Yeah! We're the best here". Tommy gently shoved his brother, "Shut up, John", he said and looked back to you, "We're not yet, but no one messes with us if that's what you mean".

You nodded again, "So can I join your little gang?".

Arthur laughed, "Well you're not a Shel-", his brother Tommy cut him off.

"That's what I wanted to speak to you about actually, Y/N".

You smiled, "So that's a yes?".

John looked over to his older brothers, "Oh please, she's funny!".

Arthur looked back to you, "Where'd you live?", he asked you.

"Wa'ery Lane", you told him, "'bout a month now".

"Oh you're that girl", he said, "She's the cockney down the bottom of the Lane", he nudged Tommy.

"Alright we'll come and see you after school and you can join us", Tommy smiled.

You jumped to your feet and stood on your tippy-toes to be at the same height as Tommy, "Nah", you simply said as you watched his eyebrows furrow, "I'll meet yous, by the bridge at 'alf three", alright?".

Tommy sighed, "Deal". The two of you spat on your hand and shook on it.

The rest was history. You and the three brother became best friends.  Wherever you went, they followed and whoever they met up with, so did you.

You and John were the same age, you two were practically the same, it was hilarious. As you grew up you and John would always be playing pranks on the others and messing around with baby Micheal. No one left the two of you alone because they knew something would end up alight.

As for Arthur and Tommy, you all got on well. Whenever anyone messes with you, a seldom occurrence, they wouldn't mind paying them a quick visit. You helped Arthur with his maths and various other things as often as you could, although you didn't tell everyone about that, he wasn't proud.

As for Tommy, you two always loved to talk about the bigger picture and such. Often you two would walk down to the Canal or Charlie's Yard and spend a good few hours just talking about life and theories and your life aspirations.

By the time you and John were 18 your life had changed a lot, along with his. Of course you were still close friends but what with work and relationships you didn't see him as much as you would've liked. The same with Arthur, he always seemed to be busy, doing what you weren't sure exactly but when you did see him you'd always stop for a chat.

You saw Tommy most, he always made a point of stopping into the Newsagents you worked at, just to say good morning. You appreciated the gesture but couldn't help but feel as if you were wasting his time, you were always so busy trying to set up for the day you never got a minute to sit and chat with him.

As you had grown older, yours and Tommy's relationship had shifted slightly. Not that either of you dared to acknowledge, but you knew. You were both guilty of finding excuses to be around each-other and touch one another. Purposely bickering to clear a room of Shelby's out so that you were alone. Stealing glances whilst the other weren't paying attention. Just silly little things that you would try and pass off as platonic intimacy as you laid in bed at night overthinking every single word you said to the man that day... and every other day you'd ever known him.

Of course you wondered if he felt the same. It felt like he did but you could just be imagining that. And you weren't prepared to ruin what you had just because of some silly crush.

However come the end of 1913 your father was now too old to do the job he had moved here to do. And your mother missed her home town and family and as one thing led to another and they decided it was time to move back.

Of course you were devastated, you loved your job even though it was more than trouble then it was worth and you loved your friends. But you were also excited to go back, of course you had been back, Christmas and Easter and what not. But you missed living there, the bustle, the accents, the opportunities and fast changing trends.

So that's what happened, you spent your last few weeks making the most of it with the Shelby's and your job before the day you left came around. You promised you'd visit, and of course you would. You promised to write, and of course you went out and brought new writing pens and paper.

By the time you were settled back into your hometown war had broken out and it seemed almost every man you knew here was off to war. The brothers back in Birmingham as well. You couldn't bare to think about the consequences of that. You still kept in touch with all three of them though.

Until you didn't.

Around a month after the boys were back from the war the letters stopped coming. You weren't sure why or how but they did. So you stopped writing. Your pride was to big to just simply write to Aunt Pol and ask if everyone was ok incase they were and they just didn't like you.

So how did you get to knocking on their betting shop front doors at 11 o'clock at night?

The door opened after you had began knocking constantly after a minute of waiting.

"The fock do ya wan-", a deep voice began before releasing who they were speaking to.

You looked up, almost shocked, "Fuckin' 'ell, Arthur, you ain't 'alf grown since a last saw ya", you let out a strained chuckle as you looked at the man who seemed to be stunned.

"You gunna let me in or should I just bleed out over your shop front?", you joked dryly, "Don't think it'd be good for business".

"Uh yeah", he said as he shook his head, "No come in, yeah, just watch your step, it's busy". You furrowed your eyebrows as you stepped past him, it was 11 at night why would it be busy?

It was though. The entire room was full of people racing back and forward, counting money, writing numbers, sneaking an extra line now that Arthur had his back turned.

"There's a race tomorrow", Arthur told you as he placed a hand around your shoulder, "Now come on, let's get you fixed up, and then you can tell me what the fock happened to ya hands".

You nodded and followed him through the busy shop, keeping your head. Avoiding catching anyone's eye. Someone's eye.

"Polly!", Arthur shouted as he closed the green doors behind you, "Ay! Polly! Ada! Get down 'ere!".

"Sorry, am I causing you trouble, I didn't mean to end up here I just sort of- did?", you mumbled to Arthur, nervously.

"Wot you on about? You're always welcome here Y/N, you know that", he smiled before shouting for Polly once more. "And besides, this is a great time coz Tommy needs a fucking cheering up", he said as he pulled out a chair at the table for you to sit at.

You looked down at the table as you carefully held your hands above it, trying not to ruin it, "Is that so", you began, "dunno if I can help with that mate".

Arthur reached forwards and tilted your chin up to face him, "I hope for both our sakes that ain't true, you're the only hope left, Y/N", he said honestly.

"Wot do'ya mean?", you asked quietly.

Before he could reply you heard two squeals from behind Arthur. Looking up you saw Polly and Ada, and a little boy following behind.

"Y/N!", Polly said as she lifted her hands in the air, "You're here! You're well", she smiled as she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your side.

"Oh my god", Ada said as she walked over to the other side of you.

"Wot the fuck happened to ya-" Polly asked as she grabbed an old tea towel and placed it carefully under your hands.

"To make a long story short", you forced a smile, "I thought it would be a good idea to find the man that burgled my parents", you cut yourself off with a 'fuck' as Ada began tending to your bruises, "And let's just say.. it wasn't".

Arthur sat up straight, "Can't be that bad", he laughed, "What'd'ya kill him or something", he joked, making light of the situation.

You licked your bottom lip, not saying anything for a moment before looking up from your hands to Arthur's face with a gulp.

"Wait you-", he began.

"You fucking killed someone!", Ada raised her voice in shock.

"Who's killed who then?", A chirpy voice asked as they walked in the room. You knew that voice from a mile off.

"John?", you called out, "John is that you, come 'ere", you said as you tried your best to turn towards the direction of the voice but Ada and Polly were blocking your view.

"Oh fuck off", John said as he pulled out a chair next to Arthur and next to you, "You didn't come and see me first! I'm offended" he joked, "When did you get back?", he beamed as he leant onto the table, hands clasped, "How are you? Any crazy stories to tell me coz I've got loads and- The fock happened to your hand?", John besieged you with questions.  

You laughed, "Yeah, missed you too, mate", you said simply as you looked back down at your hands which were stinging now as Polly cleaned them with neat alcohol.

"So do you wanna go down the Garrison after this then?", John simply asked you, ignoring the fact you were being patched up and hadn't seen him since 1913. It was as if you hadn't even spend half an hour apart let alone five or so years.

You looked up with a beaming smile across your red lips, "Fuck kind of a question is that .. of course I do, John".

Arthur cheered as he got up and reached up on top of the kitchen cabinet and grabbed a bottle of whisky. Finding a few small glasses he poured out some drinks, passing them around. John holding yours as both your hands were currently being worked on.

"To this one", Arthur said as he ruffled your hair slightly, just like he had to when you were kids (which you hated, but now it seemed comforting), before everyone cheered slightly and downed their drink.

"Who we toasting to this time then, ay?", a quite deep voice spoke from across the room. Arthur turned around in shock, spilling the bottle of whiskey over that he had brought over and left on the table. "Oh fuck sake Tommy, look what you made me do!", he shouted.

"You fucking idiot", Polly complained as she looked up, "I brought that whiskey to drink, not wash the floor with!".

John burst out laughing as he watched Arthur scuttle around trying to find something to soak it up with. As Ada left your side to help her brother, you looked up back to where the voice had come from.

Thomas.

You gulped softly, running your eyes over the man across the room. He seemed colder, more mature but rather in a sense that he had lost any grip on hope or joy. A contrast to how John seemed. As you looked back up to his face you blushed as you realised he was already staring back at you.

He walked over as he took his cap off, shoving it into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette.

He sat down at the table, stealing Arthur's seat, who was still trying to apologise to Polly for spilling her drink.

"Bet you're glad to be back", Tommy joked dryly as he placed his cigarette in his mouth and nodded in your direction as he pulled out out a light.

You smiled, "Yeah, I definitely missed this", you said sincerely, looking over at everyone, "Whatever 'this' is", you laughed, looking back over at Tommy.

Everyone pretended to still be busy as they all secretly listened in on the exchange between the two of you - amazed that Tommy had even cracked a smile.

"Right, well that should be fine now", Polly tapped your shoulder, "Just don't get into any fights for about a week, at least", she smiled before walking off, taking Ada and Arthur with her. Leaving John who was playing with his thumbs.

"So the Garrison yeah?", you looked over at your best mate, "tonight?".

"Yeah", he smiled, "I'll buy the first round".

You tilted your head with narrowed eyes, "Don't you practically own the pub", you asked as the smell of Tommy's cigarette filled your nose, in a weird sense it was comforting to you.

John nodded with a shrug, "So you won't be buying it then, will you?", you laughed, "And I will".

"Yeah something like that", he laugh as he stood up, "That's what you get for leavin' us".

"Yeah, coz it's not like you went away to war or anything anyway", you shouted after him as he walked off, acting offended. You let out a quiet snort as you watched.

"Why didn't ya visit?", Tommy spoke after a moment, "Y'know, when we got back".

"Yous stopped writing", you said plainly, "So I thought yuh didn't wanna see me", you shrugged as you looked down at your bruised hands.

"We didn't stop.. you stopped", Tommy leant back in his chair.

"Um, No", you furrowed your eyebrows, "I didn't stop writing first, why would I've done that", you argued.

Tommy shook his head slightly, blowing smoke out as he rubbed his temples, "I know what happened". You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain. "Someone stopped delivering our letters and stealing yours when they got here", he leant forward, looking down at your hands, clenching his jaw, "Wot happened?".

"But- But why would someone do that?", you asked, ignoring his question.

"Dunno", he said and thought for a moment, "I'll ask Finn, he used to collect our post and such".

"Finn?", you raised your eyebrows, "Oh my god, is Finn the boy that- oh my god he's so grown up now!", you gasped.

Tommy smiled, "Shot up when we all went away, didn't he?". You nodded, shifting in your seat, turning towards Tommy slightly as you leant back.

"What happened?", Tommy asked again, in reference to your hands. You watched as he brushed away any dirt on the table, not wanting anything to get lodged in your cuts even if they were now covered and treated. You studied his hands now, all the small marks left from old cuts and gashes.

"Um", you didn't know where to start, "Just after the war ended, y'know, everyone settling back in best they could, everyone still disorientated", you absentmindedly began tapping your foot under the table as you continued. Tommy noticed but kept quite. "Well this man, I knew him actually — right cock'ead, worked at the butchers and spied on all the school girls when they walked 'ome", you grimaced, "So yeah anyway, it was a Wednesday evening, I'd popped round to me parents 'ouse, just two roads away from mine, and um", you licked your bottom lip, lightly biting the skin on the inside.

"When I got- when I got there they were both knocked out cold, only just fuckin' breathin'", you shook your head as you remembered, your tapping growing louder, "That's when I realised someone was in thee 'ouse". Tommy held his chin high as he tried to contain his displeasure, not only had this mysterious man caused you pain but also your parents - who he knew well and respected.

"So I goes up stairs and the pig is filing though my mothers jewellery box ain't he?", you laughed dryly to yourself, "Only to realise everything is sentimental and barely worth a fuckin' thing", you cursed.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say but he wanted to comfort you, even if he was a little late. He didn't get the chance as you began speaking again, the anger in your voice more present.

"I mean what the fuck did he think was gonna be there? Fucking Faberge Eggs? We're livin' on the outskirts of London for fucks sake", you wanted to clench your fists but it would ruin everything Polly had just achieved, instead you decided to throw your head back and angrily  shout 'fuck'.

Tommy stifled a laugh as he watched you so desperately want to lash out, "So what did you do?".

You lifted your head back up slowly and looked over at Tommy, dead in the eyes, "I told him to fuck off and never come back", you simply said, adding, "With a butchers knife in my hand, and a pistol in the other".

Tommy took a long drag of his cigarette as he looked at you, "And people say I'm threatening", he joked.

Shrugging with a small smirk you leant forward, crossing your legs in hopes of stopping yourself from tapping them. "Anyway, he left with his hands up and then I never saw him again".

Tommy butted his cigarette in the ashtray and folded his arms, ready to hear the gruesome end to your story.

"That was until I obviously tracked him down, I wasn't going to let him get away with hurting my parents".

"Did it take long?".

"No", you looked down at your hands once more, "I found him in a day or two, moved up to Coventry .. I went up to visit him once a month— secretly of course, just to make sure he was still there and what no", you raised your eyebrows before you spoke, "And then today I decided he was finally comfortable, my threats of finding him finally at the back of his mind".

Tommy looked you over as you sat, one leg still bouncing as your thumbs rolled over one another, your bottom lip a piece of meat to your top teeth as little bits of your lipstick began to wear off.

"I'll spare you the gore but let's just say he got more then I intended to give him and now he's resting in his own fire pit", you smiled sinisterly as you looked up to Tommy. "I feel bad of course, I guess", your smile faded, "But he deserved it, and it wasn't as if he had any family that cared about him".

Tommy took a short breath, straightening his back and smoothing his waistcoat down before looking at you with a concerned look.

"Wot?", you asked as you saw the look in his eye, "Look, if you're going to ask any questions about my well being- don't .. I'm clearly fine, aren't I?".

"What about the stuff that's not obvious", Tommy said lowly, "Why are you really here? Hmm?", he leant forward, adjusting your bloodied shirt cuffs, "I'm sure you could find many people to patch you up, and better then Pol too", he joked.

"Ay don't discredit Pol, she did a great job", you changed the subject. "And anyway", you carefully stood up, standing behind your hair as you pushed it under the table with your hip, "It's easy to hide in plain sight here".

Tommy watched you as you walked over to their sink, turning on the tap and bending to drink the water. The prospect of filling and holding a cup in your bandages wasn't looking fun right now. Tommy held back a giggle as he raised a brow at your behaviour, "How so?".

You turned around, leaning on the kitchen surface, "Well not only do I just have to put some coal on me and call it day, my best mate is the leader of arguably one of the most powerful organised gangs in the country, no one would dare give me up", you smirked.

"You reckon John's in charge?", Tommy stood up, leaving his chair untucked as he walked over to you, placing his hands either side of your waist, "Is is that what he's told you".

You gulped with a playful expression still on your face, "Well Arthur's too hot-headed and you're too collected, Johns a mix of both", you half lied, just to test Tommy's patience. He narrowed his eyes with a sly smirk upon his lip.

"You don't think that", he said simply.  

"Says who?".

"You".

"Well I literally just said the opposite so I don't exactly understan-".

Tommy cut you off as he leant closer, his hands subconsciously moving closer to your body as they glided across the surface edge, "Your body language", he said as if it was obvious, "Your heart".

You let out a loud dry laugh, trying to outwit him as you held your chin high, feigning confidence, "What do they say then? Because my brain is saying that you're embarrassed by my opinions".

"Well for starters you've ended up in my old house, pinned to a surface by me", Tommy took a shallow breath as he stood up straight, now his chest was practically touching yours, "Not John", he looked down into your eyes, holding your gaze, "Not Arthur, and not Jack from down the lane who used to flirt with you every fockin' chance he got".

You bit your lip, praying that no one would interrupt this, wanting to see how far it could go.

Of course you had thought about this before. You and Tommy. The way you both bounced off of eachother so well, the way you never felt awkward around eachother, the way you just understood eachother. Tommy and You. Of course you had thought about his lips on yours before, his hands on your waist- around your neck. The two of you cuddled up after a long day of running the betting shop. It had occupied the small space at the back of your mind since you were fourteen. You ignored it best you could though.

But over time that small space had become bigger, migrating to the front of your brain. And after all of your hard work getting it to shut up whilst you were back home, you had to come back to Birmingham and run into him. He had to ruin it and make you fall for his rubbish all over again.

Or maybe you came to Birmingham for that exact reason. Shit. He was right.

"No, you're in front of me", He said as you looked back into his eyes, "And I think we both know why".

"Do we?".

Tommy narrowed his eyes a playful smirk grew upon his lips, he chuckled to himself quietly, just above a whisper, "You know what your problem is?", he asked.

You shook your head a little, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid you would give in to him first.

"You're too stubborn, your ego is the size of a circus".

You furrow you're eyebrows with a gasp, "Am not!", you childishly defended yourself, "What makes me stubborn then, huh?".

"The fact you won't admit you've come here to see me".

"Well in actual fact, if I had come to see anyone, it would be John", you raised an eyebrow, "But as I said, I just ended up here and I'm glad I did because Polly is the only other person besides from my mum that I'd trust to patch me up".

Tommy returned back to his infamous imperturbable expression as he looked at you, "Why aren't you with John Boy now then? Ay?", he pressed, "Why aren't you terrorising Harry with him down at the Garrison?".

You shrugged, "Maybe", you smirked, "Maybe because you've trapped me in this godforsaken little kitchen because you're to scared to admit that you fancy me", you flushed a little as you finished your sentence, your heart racing as you wondered if this was the end of you and Tommy. Whatever you and Tommy was.

Tommy clenched his jaw, his eyes darting from your eyes, to your chest, to your hands, to your lips. "Well go on then", he stepped back, leaving you just enough space to walk away, "Go off and play with John then".

You frowned, eyes narrowed as you wondered if he was being serious, it was hard to tell with him.

You pushed yourself off of the counter, closing the gap between you both again as you stood as tall as you could. Your nose practically touching his chin as you looked up to him. "Fine", you said coldly, "I'll see you later then, after I'm done catching up with John", you quickly turned and headed for the front door before you could fall victim to Tommy's eyes again.

"And my Gin", you shouted before the door slammed shut behind you.

Damn both of your conceit.

﹒♱﹒

✒︎author note: part two? + plus plz comment any spelling mistakes etc ✒︎requests: open 09/2019

~ published: 29.10.2019 ~

﹒☼﹒

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRFTP Book 1 Chapter 17

• I'm...not even sure what's happening anymore or whether this team is trolling us for expecting better from them. This chapter was shit. As has been this book.

• If you don't want to see these posts, here are the tags to block: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post.

• I spent three days doing literally anything else but replaying it coz the writing for this one was so poor from the get-go, focuses on anything but the important stuff when we're two chapters away from the finale and uses Maxwell to retcon two moments from last book that they'd already bungled up in the grossest way possible.

• Ngl they also made Maxwell sound like a self-centered jerk this chapter. The one time they actually made him the focus, they make him into a narcissistic individual who thinks that just because he's friends with all these influential people he gets creative liberty over personal stuff that happened to them, without even fucking consulting them on it. I'm sure the book reading was meant to be funny but there was so much cringe going on that I wound up thoroughly disliking him this chapter (sorry Maxwell stans). Like this was me the entire time:

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and the HIMEME YouTube channel

Maxwell: The rash rec YouTube channel

• Title: Hot Off the Press

Alternative Title: High on All Existing Levels of Cringe.

• The first few dialogues obviously change slightly if you're married to Maxwell. He's a little more contrite about not telling the MC earlier about the book tour:

• My MC is as surprised as I am that we didn't go to Castelserraillian instead, since that place is a hotbed of art and culture (I'm also noticing that the writers have been avoiding mentioning Kiara's estate by name since this book began. It's always called "Kiara's estate" now). But no apparently it's because the Lythikos people have no taste, as we're soon about to find out.

• The MC can't stay too long, since the Last Apple Ball, which is supposed to be the final appearance a mother of the royal heir makes before they deliver, is coming soon.

• Maxwell promised the bookstore...that his friends - who are actual people he has written about in this book and who haven't read it yet - will do a live-reading alongside him...again, without consulting them. O boy. This is going to be fun.

•

I have three points to make about this one:

1. If this book wouldn't exist without any of us then why the hell is YOUR face on the cover of MY goddamned story?

2. LMAO @ Maxwell acting like Liam's only strength is his title when:

a. He's the only one among you all who has a job (not applicable for Hana since she doesn't have a paying job but still works her butt off more than the other two do)

b. Liam threw an entire human being over his fucking shoulder. Like if that's not "actual strength" I don't know what is.

• It's more fun to make Olivia guess when you reach her estate. She either guesses that you're having your baby, that Liam is declaring Lythikos the capital of Cordonia, Drake fell into a vat of whiskey or Hana wants her to lead a self-defence seminar for the noblewomen. Maxwell for some reason isn't even mentioned.

• In any case, we arrive at Olivia's keep/lodge, where she's busy fussing over us.

• I liked the fact that you could do a callback to our first Lythikos Ball in Book 1, mentioning "cold lobsterless bisque". And Olivia doesn't pretend to forget it either, reiterating that she enjoyed besting the MC at her first visit there.

• First Kiara, now Hana. Both ladies make sure Olivia doesn't go ahead with giving us gifts related to "self-defense" 😅

• She does, however, have a special gift in store, this time for our nursery. Paintings for the walls. The royal options mostly showcase golden crowns and a castle, while the rustic options display forest animals. You don't get a free option here, pretty much like you don't get one for the crib mobiles. I think there's one element left in the nursery - the soft toy (one of which is a lion).

• Maxwell then offers to have Olivia there for the reading as well, considering the book's popularity in Lythikos and the fact that she is their Duchess. Olivia tries to get out of it, telling us that she has "duchess things" to do.

• I love whatever little we get of Liam and Olivia's friendship in this series. When the writing actually bothers to acknowledge them as childhood pals it shines. Like the bit where Olivia tries to get out of the reading by citing "duchess things" and Liam grins and tells her that he "can always tell when [she's] lying". Or this little bit right here:

• The MC gets to ask about Liam's investigation on what happened to his mother, which he cites as 'ongoing'. Yknow, we would have had more time to investigate that if the writers didn't shoehorn so many chapters into the Texas section. I can understand a mystery spilling over to the next book, but the reason for that spillover being the writers spending too much time on irrelevant bullshit? Can't relate.

• Following this, Olivia agrees to come for the reading, tells the group which rooms are allowed to them and leaves, and the LI tells the MC about their plans to take her out on a final-date-before-childbirth to a resort in the mountains. This is supposed to be our last LI scene for this book.

• It's a short and fairly meh scene, mostly rehashing the LI parenting issues they currently have and filled with some of the same imbalances we spotted way back in Chapter 4 (the LI scene where the couple sneaked off from the ball where we were hosting Auvernal and Monterisso). It's on a smaller scale here, but the imbalances still exist.

• The scene has two sections, the helicopter scene and the resort scene. The helicopter sequence deals with (except in Drake's case) the LI and their worries over how good a spouse and parent they will be, and the resort sequence is mostly a sex scene with no lingerie of the MC's in sight because they felt too lazy to code a pregnant MC minus clothes. In Drake's case, the serious issues revolving around family get spoken about at the resort rather than the helicopter.

Liam: Is extremely protective, maybe even obsessively so. Discovering his mother was pregnant when she died plays a huge part in his worries about the MC and his child now, as does the fact that growing up without her was hard on him, and that's an experience he doesn't want their child to go through.

Hana: Comes with a sweet story about her mother. The helicopter sequence begins with their child having a "kick party" in the womb, and Hana singing a lullaby that her mother used to sing while they spent time on the piano. Hana speaks of this as being a bedtime routine that her mother made, and how nighttime was the only time of day when Lorelai would pay any attention to Hana. Hana wants to be more involved, more present for her child, essentially the mother Lorelai never truly was to her - while still maintaining that there were moments she was happy with Lorelai.

Maxwell: I honestly expected this scene to have Maxwell speak about Bartie Sr or his mother in some capacity...but they didn't even bother to go that route. Instead they show Maxwell initially overthinking and fretting in his care for the MC, before the MC calms him down by quizzing him over his childcare knowledge so he can see for himself just how prepared he is. Like the pregnancy announcement before it, this scene seems to have been the perfect place to come up with something poignant for Maxwell, except they didn't even bother.

Drake: The helicopter sequence is shorter, but features Drake suggesting to the MC that they could "camp in the mountains". However, his resort scene post sex is the more detailed one, and tackles two issues: his need to be constantly tough and protective, and his memories of his father. In the first the MC tells him it's okay if he's not tough all the time, and he reiterates that especially with the MC and their child he feels like he needs to be...and he speaks about how his father - amazing though he was - often had to toe a thin line between his job (guarding the royal family) and his family (he mentions Jackson guarding Constantine, Liam and Regina...which means that he was around when Constantine had his third marriage as well??).

It's not AS bad as the Chapter 4 "sneaking away" scene during the ball in Valtoria...but as you can see, the same problem still exists. They're trying not to be too obvious about it, but the problem still exists.

• Okay so now it's time for this book reading...and Bastien is our driver and our security detail today. O boy.

• Maxwell is nervous, but the group (specifically Hana) reassure him that the crowd can't be too large considering the venue is a bookstore. Turns out...they're wrong. There's hundreds.

• Everyone except Olivia got nicknames (Liam the Benevolent, Hana the Just, Maxwell the Glorious, Drake the Bold). We get to choose ours (Unstoppable, Magnificent, Sexy). In addition, Drake has become a meme, considering people are holding up "THINGS ARE GREAT" signs close to 8-9 months after he was quoted on that (the ultimate irony, that this quote gains popularity among the actual commoners who have to face tax problems, so very unlike Drake who lives griping and moaning in a fucking palace).

• (also didn't Drake read the book earlier. I recall he mentioned as much in Chapter 5. Why didn't he warn his other friends or mention how terribly written this story was?)

• The rest of it...is ridiculous. I mean sure this can be read as a joke, as funny, as entertaining, but even that is a bit of a stretch and sounds more like we're making excuses for Maxwell's writing of his own friends.

• So the reading itself is divided into sections where the group takes turns to read the bits they were a part of, and where Maxwell aggressively rewrote what they said and did without once bothering to consult them. This includes very personal stuff, and he had no way of knowing if they would like the revisions he made. Like this is something I would expect of a trashy, money-grabbing biographer, not someone who is supposed to be a close friend of these people.

• Olivia hasn't read this book yet and she has no qualms saying that to people, which is kinda cool. I'm guessing Lythikos people normally don't like reading.

• Maxwell begins with the masquerade ball:

Yeah dude you knew I was in over my head yet didn't bother to guide me properly all of the social season. Hana Lee had to save your ass a couple times. The other LIs were running around doing your goddamn job. That you will not mention in this fancy-schmancy book of yours!

• In this revised version of the Masque, Drake thirsts over the MC immediately (damn, Lady MC cleans up good) and Hana is made to sound like a pompous ass (at last, someone who can match my beauty) and Liam is, well, ridiculous. Revised Liam name-drops House Beaumont and Maxwell when complimenting the MC. None of the LIs are very happy with this book as they proceed reading, and the MC can choose to either agree and they plan to have some words with him later (which will never happen) or pretend it's okay.

I don't mind the revision in this particular scene really. Like the masque itself and Liam's turning down of Madeleine later are not that serious, so exploring it lightheartedly is okay. It's when he gives the same treatment to serious shit that happened to his friends that bothers me.

• The next section to be read is Liam dumping "Madeleine the Mean" (LMAO). Nothing much really.

• The best part is of course the LIs repeating their marriage proposals from memory:

This right here is probably the reason why that book sold at all. Or possibly because Cordonians don't have a lot of good taste in books. Who knows.

• The other best part is the MC refusing to give the assassins proper "assassin noises" during her reading.

• So...up until now you've gotten only tiny glimpses of how self-centered Maxwell's book is. It has his goddamn face on the cover. This guy gave the actual protagonist's origin story nothing more than a page while dedicating an entire chapter to a "playlist" for saving the kingdom. But this...this is on another level. He has Liam name-drop House Beaumont and himself during the Masque. In Drake's playthrough he has Drake worry only about him. During Drake's duel he has both Drake and Liam say this shit:

...did Barthelemy Beaumont ghostwrite this book. Coz he sounds more like Bartie Sr here than he does the old Maxwell. The old Maxwell was often clueless but not really THIS obnoxiously self-centered!

• Like first of all, Drake was doing that duel for himself? He did it because Neville was constantly insulting him? This had very little to do with the MC (unless she was marrying Drake) and definitely nothing to do with Maxwell yet somehow his book is written as if he is the be-all and end-all of this group?

• Also, bringing the MC to Cordonia as a suitor because Liam had feelings for her was perhaps the only thing that indicates Maxwell even considers Liam a good friend? (and even then his House needing to sponsor someone was a big factor too) Liam barely features as a "BFF" otherwise, Maxwell keeps placing Drake in that role more?? I heard Liam speak more about Maxwell (and in terms that acknowledge his unique gifts too, like the hotel room scene in Shanghai and the scene where he talks about his friends before the proposal - both are in Book 2).

Like Maxwell doesn't even once worry or ask after Liam once the MC turns him down for Maxwell in his playthrough (not even when he overhears Madeleine baiting Liam in his playthrough. Even then there's no reaction) and just in this chapter he apparently found no other strength in Liam besides the man's title...and somehow I'm supposed to suddenly believe that Maxwell had trouble choosing between the two of them as BFFs, which got resolved over fake dialogues??

• Then of course comes the worst part of this whole trainwreck:

I'm pretty certain a lot of people will excuse this as Maxwell rewriting these events out of kindness...but the truth is, both of these things are extremely personal, in some ways painful experiences for both Liam and Hana, and Maxwell shouldn't have been assuming what they would be comfortable with without even speaking to them first. He's lucky the two took it as positively as they did, but they shouldn't have been required to.

• What really stings about the use of these two sequences is that these were exactly both things the writers themselves never bothered to explore properly. The Lorelai confrontational was the weakest possible end to her arc...and having Maxwell shoehorn Drake and Liam into this moment in his book doesn't exactly make that any better, PB. And then...to have Maxwell put words in Constantine's mouth when he probably knows jackshit about the man? For something the writers never allowed Liam himself to talk much about? Fuck off.

• Also, I notice that Drake's duel is a default passage for the reading, but you're made to choose between Liam's and Hana's important crisis points. And Maxwell doesn't even have one obviously because TRR Book 3 spent too much time on BertVannah. Plus he doesn't deserve his own passage if he's so busy inserting himself in everyone else's story.

• Olivia's passage about defeating Anton is also a default passage, and perhaps the only thing written accurately in that entire trashfire.

• I will happily never want to hear about this book again, and I would rather Maxwell never wrote another book again either.

• There is a diamond option that features a Q&A, which Maxwell didn't prepare for (obviously). If we convince him, these are the questions the public will ask:

- Is the MC comfortable being Olivia's sidekick. The MC has options ranging from gushing about her, to dubbing them both equals, to calling Olivia her sidekick - and in all three cases she cuts off your mic 😂

- For Olivia, little Valerie asks what she should do to become like our resident Scarlet Duchess. Suffice to say Olivia's answers are...concerning to the girl's mother 😅

- For the MC, Cordonian Woman asks how she got to courage to escape Anton. The MC can either mention she had Olivia with her, mention the LI or take all the credit.

- The next question is to Maxwell, about a possible sequel for the book. This is when the writers of TRH have to admit how full of shit their book is: uh, let's see. There was a honeymoon. We went to a ranch for a long time. Er...baby shower?

- For the MC, if there is anything she would change about her wedding. (they didn't include "I deserved better lingerie earlier" as an option and that's a travesty).

- Peter Graves is now a Cordonian dude who is curious about how Olivia fell for Anton's trap, and she mentions his guard baiting her by mentioning that Liam was in trouble, so the book still wants Olivia to have her lingering feelings towards Liam. I can't imagine why the writers would keep drilling this point in if they're not going to do a damn thing about it.

- All in all, not exactly worth the money.

• Once we finish signing a few books, we're on our way back when we're nearly-trampled by the paparazzi.

• Samir of Them Magazine esp outs himself as an asshole and so does the dude in sunglasses.

• Ana de Luca is nowhere to be found here, and Donnie seems to be the only respectable journalist, asking the rest to give the MC some space. I'm guessing they're mostly making the distinction between "respectable, trustworthy press" (CBC and Trend), and tabloid press like Them and the other paps.

• Dude in sunglasses mentions that his source is paying triple rates for any photos of the MC...which is another in a huuuge pile of really suspicious paparazzi stuff that's been happening this chapter that EVERYONE has been too stupid to explore further so far.

• I can see why the ensuing car chase reminds people so much of Diana. The paparazzi don't give up chasing the MC, there's an overall sense of panic about this sequence and the crash does hark back a little to that devastating news. Except in this case, it's going to be a temporary scare, seeing as we are still in our pregnant sprite for the finale Apple Ball gown which I think means we won't be going into labour until that is over.

• @thefirstcourtesan also mentioned to me that the crash reminded her of an episode from Gossip Girl.

• What I think might happen is that the baby, MC and LIs may make it out of this fairly okay, but there will be widespread condemnation of the tabloid press and possibly laws implemented to limit this scale and level of access. Orrr everyone will simply glower and do nothing since the writers don't allow any of these people to possess any common sense anymore 🙄

• So possibly, there may be some focus on the safety of the mother and child, and on the fallout the press has to face as a result of this incident. We still have one last item (the toy) to feature in our nursery so I think that might happen this chapter too.

• 2 chapters until the finale, and Hana still hasn't gotten her own scenes. Neither flashback nor individual. Somehow they deemed it appropriate to give Olivia those by midpoint!

• Also, interesting how the one time Maxwell gets much attention in this book, they decide to do him badly. First they don't put any effort into his diamond scene, then they write him so. damn. badly. Does Maxwell have his flaws? Sure he does. But they did him so dirty this chapter and made him so ridiculously self-centered that it stopped becoming funny after a point, at least for me.

• This book has been such a load of nothing I can't even tell you. Like at least in the previous books threads would either begin to be tied up or they would give you a clear idea of what would be up next. TRH 1 is getting over in two weeks and the most important thing was dealt with only once and spoken of in an offhand manner only twice. At this rate there are all these threads that haven't even begun to be tied up. And sure, this stuff could get more in the forefront in Book 2...but it's been poorly written and poorly paced so far. That's what you get for forcing us all to play some version or other of the Drake route, unfortunately.

• I'll be off to Kerala until November, guys, so the last two chapters may not get a QT anytime soon (range is pretty awful there), and the same goes for TRM, unfortunately. If I'm able to, I'll try doing chapter reviews for TRM, but I'm not sure how that will pan out, or if I'll be able to catch up enough. I'll try.

• As for TRH...I honestly don't know. Writing for this one hasn't been a very pleasant experience, and I don't have high hopes at all for the next book in the series.

Perhaps by the time the second book or the holiday feature is out I might change my mind but for now...I don't know.

• Until November (or hopefully before that, if a miracle happens and I get good range in my parents' place) then, guys!

[roquesox]

endgame grief relief 😭

ok, so it's been over a month since i saw endgame and i am *not* ok. did i like the movie? yes! 3000! however i am not doing to well now that it's sunk in.

before i get into this: yes, i know this is a work of fiction. . .but my feels are very real and i need to get them out.

i'm literally grieving over tony. now i knew this was gonna end with him dying - i didn't want it, but i knew it was inevitable. i was prepared to see it, but not deal with it. i'm one of those people who gets really into movies, series and books and having a hyper-active imagination means i really get to live in fictional worlds - which is actually awesome for the most part, but when shit goes down, i go down with it!

tony is one of my favorite fictional charcters and to say i got a little attached to the character is a serious understatement! i freaking love the guy! not in the 'i wanna read dirty fanfic bout him' way, but in the 'this character is amazing!' way. plus, through personal experiences, there's totally a reason i would want someone like him in my life (but that's a different story!). so yeah, if i could have, i would have been crying during his funeral scene coz that hit hard! of course, me being me, i went into my distraction-denial defence and decided to solely focus on the fact that the movie ended with cap and peggy finally getting their dance (that came with some personal baggage for me too, but i can deal with that!).

so i watched the movie on the 28th and 3 days later i got sick and i have been sick ever since because i'm having a physical reaction to the suppressed feels - WHICH IS RIDICULOUS! like, even i think this is dumb, but hey, it's a real thing i'm dealing with and, therefore, totally valid!

so yeah. . .the point of this long post (that i assume no one will read til i become famous and it comes up on a talk show that i'm a guest on) is that i'm a sad fangirl and could probably benefit from cap's support group. but it's ok. i'll work through it. step one is making this post. it feels good to get things out and i'm way better at typing than talking.

i almost miss the days when i was just sad about peter turning to dust. . .

[kristie-rp]

[2016] A Series of Coincidences is Called, “The Universe is Having You On”

Prompt: Found their phone number in a library book au

1.

“Todays’ the day,” Xavier declares to his breakfast – scrambled eggs and toast, because his dad takes being a chef very seriously don’t laugh, Xav – and then gives a determined nod. “I can absolutely do this.”

And maybe he could, but when he gets to school and hangs out all day, even having the stupid note – something he did purely because he overheard her complain that she’s sick of being the messenger for her more popular twins notes, I want some for me, damn it – all prepared and written out ahead of time, ready to slip into her locker or, if he’s feeling particularly brave, into her notebook. The one with the little sketches all over it.

It’s not until after school, when he���s waiting for Isaac’s chauffeur to give them a lift to karate, that he finds out what happened. “Didja hear?” Isaac asks, more attractive with his actually decent looking facial hair (especially for a 14 year old, which, what) and his flawless olive skin and expertly quaffed hair, as he flops down on the stairs where Xavier has sprawled out, face-down on the concrete. “The hot twins got expelled. You know – the one that thinks she’s a dude and the one you have a boner for.”

Xavier does know. He sits up just to tear the little note to shreds. So much for that, he thinks, and in a dramatic teenaged fit later that night, he gives up on the idea of Pandora Rodriquez, gorgeous artist extraordinaire, and then on romance altogether.

2.

It’s ridiculous but Isaac dares him to do it and the new guy encourages the whole thing, so Xavier writes his mobile number on a post it and sticks it in the book he was hoping had information for the stupid class project that he doesn’t want to do. This is what he gets for hoping art history is actually interesting, and as he packs up to leave he swears the terrifying librarian with her magenta hair and dark skin knows exactly what he just did (judging by the snickering from the shelves, the womans boyfriend definitely knows), because she just keeps staring at him. He smiles uneasily and gets the hell out of there, forgetting about it once Vincent and Isaac finish teasing his damn unfortunate self (“You actually did it? Dude, you could’ve just pretended.” “Shut up and do something about your gigantic bisexual boner for the new guy,” Xavier snaps and hits Isaac with a pillow, because he’s still paranoid the librarian will show up and scold him for abusing books despite the fact that he lives on the opposite side of town to the library).

It’s a week later when he gets a text from a number he doesn’t recognise.

(3:43PM) so does this thing help at all with th project on “obscure fuckin artists” or

(3:44 PM) ? what are you talking about

(3:44 PM) who is this by the way

(3:50 PM) hellloooo? 

(4:22 PM) soz not soz. ur number’s in this book. at the library. that was u, rght? 

(4:24 PM) oh. yeah. 

(4:27 PM) but that book was rubbish. i ended up just googling

(4:27 PM) asdhfkldsahfkdlfkjsa 

(4:28 PM) u srs? 

(4:32 PM) IM AT THS HOLE FOR NO REASON FML 

(4:34 PM) breathe, random angry text person

He doesn’t get another text back that day, but he and the unknown number are in contact for a long time yet.

3.

College is fantastic. And by that of course Xavier means he hates it. He tells his cereal as much one morning, never mind that he isn’t even a college student, waiting for Isaac to quit hogging the fucking breakfast. “I hate college.” Just for good measure, he texts the random angry text person (now called ‘poxy paint’ because why not) from sophomore year the same thing.

(7:43 AM) u wke me up for ths shit 

(7:45 AM) you want problems? my roommate sings in the shower

 He snorts, because he can hear Isaac singing fucking Keep Moving On in the next room, and it’s mornings like this that he regrets renting an open plan living space. There’s a bathroom and one closed off room, which sucks because Isaac, as the one who actually has the sex life, is the one who gets dibs. Xavier’s still pining after a crush he had in middle and high school (he regrets nothing, damn it, except for a stupid ripped up note that melted in the rain six years ago).

(7:50 AM) coffeeeeeee

(7:52 AM) nyway. u still wanna meet me? coz im free today

 (7:53 AM) i can come to that shop thing if u want? sis nd her friends want to do smth “cultural” or w/e

 He stares at his phone for a full two minutes before grinning at his cereal, dropping the spoon. “I could actually meet them? Do I want to? Will I ruin everything?

“Quit talking to your fucking food!” Isaac calls. Xavier calls back that he should fuck himself while he’s in there, then texts back.

(7:56 AM) sorry that took so long 

(7:57 AM) the show starts at 10 if your serious. convention center and all 

(8:03 AM) ill b th chick wiv the twin, a lost boi and a crown 

(8:05 AM) i’ll be waiting for you your highness

4.

Vince helps out with the stall, because Isaac has advanced quantum physics or whatever the fuck he’s studying now. Xavier doesn’t care enough to know for sure, and wouldn’t even have an idea it was physics if he hadn’t tripped over a book that morning (“Why is a physics textbook next to the shower?” “I need that for class!” “Noooo? And here I thought you had it for light reading.” “Alright, no need to be sarcastic.”), but it means that he and Vince are manning the stall. Well, Vince is manning the stall. Xavier is mostly just being anxious and doodling little animals running around in circles. When the guy his roommate still has a bisexual boner for (even after they actually did something about it that one Thanksgiving break) became the most responsible person in his life, he doesn’t know, but it’s nice listening to someone other than him argue that his art is worth the price he affixes with little removable tags.

“Vince?” a confused voice chimes. Xavier rolls his eyes – it isn’t the first time someone has recognised the guy who will always be “the new guy” in his social circle – and looks up to scan the room for the crown, the twin and the ‘lost boy’ once again. Seeing nothing, he sighs and looks back at his doodles. “You’re the awkward artist dude?”

Vince looks positively delighted, Xavier discovers when his hand cramps and he looks up yet again as he shakes it out. “Oh my god, you’re the mysterious textee? Seriously?” Maybe he wasn’t there for the event itself, but he knows the story about Xavier’s gigantic crush, courtesy of Isaac himself. He turns to Xavier, says unnecessarily loudly, “Hey Xavier, I didn’t realise it was my Pandora.”

The look Xavier shoots him could wither a sunflower, but Vince just jumps to his feet, gesturing for Pan to come around. “You know what, you two should absolutely take care of things here, I want a break anyway.” He grabs the other guy – who’s mostly just standing there looking bewildered – by the hand and drags him away, borderline skipping. The other girl raises an eyebrow at the one with the – with the crown?

“Is this the guy,” she asks, except it doesn’t quite sound like a question.

“Uh,” the girl says, eloquently, then turns to him. “Phone.”

Xavier points at the counter, baffled, and lets her go through the thing, unlocked to play music as he works. After a moment she emits a triumphant little noise and nods at the other girl – who shakes her head and leaves – and drops the phone on his page. “Hey, so, this is a little bit weird, but – I think I’m the person you’ve been texting for, like, six years or something.” She taps her head; a glance has Xavier realising he didn’t look close enough to spot the fucking crown. It’s paper and bright pink, covered in so much glitter and beads that he’s not sure it’s not just stuck to her hair with glue.

And, worse, he knows her. “Holy shit.” Because maybe Vince thinks this is his Pandora, but before she was his she was his, Xavier’s, in his dreams at least. “This is going to sound absolutely insane, but – you went to Saint Jude’s and got expelled, didn’t you? You’re, uh, you supposedly set something on fire?”

“It was for art,” she retorts, indignant, “why?”

“Because I was, uh,” and he mumbles the last part as quickly as he can, wanting it over with as his cheek turn bright fucking red, “planning on asking you out literally the day you got expelled.”

She starts laughing a minute later, and then, out of sheer desperation, so does he. At this points it’s that or cry.