CONTRARY - FINN SHELBY X READER; PART 5
PUBLISHED: 16/05/2022
!!FIRST PART HERE!!
Part 1
MASTERLIST
THIRD PERSON'S POV
Finn could hear you chattering away to the girls most of the day. You bonded more with them than you did with him, and it was safe to say that they adored you, and you them, bar Linda. He was slightly grateful, because it would make your transition into the family easier on you if you were liked.
You had become a good use in the betting shop, whispering in the men's ears on which horse you thought would win. Who would be stupid enough to ignore a traveller girl with a nice smile?
Little did the men know, you were making sure Shelby Company Limited would earn all the men's money by telling them to bet their money on the losing horses. Polly admired your cunningness.
It was now the end of the day, the shop just closing. You were sat on Polly's desk, chewing gum, laughing at some story Polly was telling you about your Dad. Finn was stood in the doorway, watching the pair of you, feeling envious at how Polly had managed to worm her way into your good graces and he was stuck being called 'Shelby'.
Linda pushed past Finn to show Polly something or other.
"You can't read it, you're not part of the business," Linda said to you, dropping the file onto Polly's desk just behind you.
"You're acting all high and mighty for someone who joined the business five seconds before I came through the door," You replied breezily, "And besides, I can't read — or write — anyway. I can do my name, and Dad says that's enough."
That didn't come to a surprise to Finn, he only learned how to read when he turned seventeen last year, and he still wasn't the best at it, even though he practiced reading the Bible every night with Jeremiah Jesus.
Linda scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Doesn't your family care about you children enough to teach you how to read?"
You stopped chewing your gum, and pursed your lips, looking at Linda.
"What did you just say?" You asked calmly.
"I'm just saying, if you want a respectable job and not one as a whore or a hit man your father should have taught you how to read," Linda stated, opening up the file.
One moment you were sitting there as Linda started explaining what she was showing to Polly, and the next you and Linda were on the floor, you on top of her punching her relentlessly with no sign of stopping.
"Oh, fuck," Finn gasped, hurrying over to pull you off of Linda, who had blood pouring from her mouth and nose.
Polly made no move to grab you, just watching it unfold. In her opinion, you could say whatever you wanted about a person, but you left their family out of it.
You threw your right elbow back, hitting Finn square in the nose, sending him stumbling back. He was dazed for a few seconds, but quickly recovered, grabbing you by the collar and dragging you back off of the poor woman. He could feel his nose dripping blood.
You thrashed around in his grip, trying to get him to let you go.
"(Y/N), if you hurt Linda any more it'll make it harder for Tommy to consider your terms for the marriage — Bonnie and safety when passing through, remember?" Finn cautioned, making you stop your thrashing.
"Don't you ever talk about my family like that ever again, you Christian slut!" You shrieked at Linda, who was rolling on the floor, holding a hand on her face and groaning.
Finn helped you up roughly, his nose still pouring blood. He lead you to the bathroom, where he grabbed some toilet paper and dabbed under his nose. He looked in the mirror, thankfully it didn't get onto his shirt. You turned on the tap and started washing your hands.
Finn pinched his nose shut, making sure to lean slightly forward as he looked at you in the mirror.
"Linda's not in the bridal party then?" Finn asked, words barely decipherable.
"Absolutely not," You spat as you grabbed paper towels to dry your hands, "I want Polly to be there, and Lizzie — Your sister Ada can be there if she wants. That makes four bridesmaids with Ezzie, Saoirse can be the flower girl."
Finn nodded, then thought about groomsmen. Thomas, Arthur, Isiah, and someone else. Michael would still be in hospital. Maybe Bonnie? Karl could be the ring bearer, he was the right age for it.
"Erm, can Bonnie be one of my groomsmen? And can my nephew Karl be the ring bearer?" Finn asked, watching as you took deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth to calm yourself down.
"I'm not Bonnie's fucking mother, he can do what he wants!" You barked, "And yes, your nephew can be the ring bearer, now fuck up and leave me be!"
Finn gave you an awkward thumbs up, not wanting to nod. You would've laughed at the sight if you weren't still mad.
Polly entered the bathroom, looking at Finn then at you, "I'm about to take Linda home, everything alright in here, no trouble in paradise?"
You nodded, "I'm gonna stay in here for a bit until I cool down. He's just taking care of his nose. You, Lizzie, Ada, all have a spot in my bridal party do you wish, I will not have that cunt anywhere near me on Friday, if she's near me I might stab her with a spoon."
"Oh god, you've definitely got your Mother's anger issues," Polly muttered, making you frown, "Alright, tomorrow we'll leave nine o'clock to go to the seamstress here in town, sound good?"
"Sounds good," You confirmed, and Polly spun on her heel and walked out, her boots clacking against the floor.
Finn looked at you out of the corner of his eye. As he eyed you up, decided that you were more than capable of taking Linda out with a spoon.
You and Finn stood in silence for a few more minutes, you managing to get your anger under wraps. You spat out your gum into the bin, and Finn threw the bloody toilet paper in there as well.
"Come on, let's go home, I've got stuff to do," Finn commanded lightly, leading you out of the bathroom.
The pair of you passed the dining room, where Tommy was waiting.
"Finn! (Y/N)!" He called out, making you both turn, "Come here."
You followed Finn hesitantly, a big contrast to his confident walk. You were sure that Tommy was about to yell at you for hitting Linda.
"How was your day?" Tommy asked, his eyes flitting between you.
"Yeah, it was okay," Finn answered, conveniently leaving out the part where you thrashed Linda.
"I had fun bonding with the girls," You admitted, following Finn's lead and ignoring the elephant in the room.
"And Finn!" You added hurriedly as an afterthought.
"Good people. Well done. No trouble?" Tommy questioned, dropping his to his side, flicking the ash off the end of the cigarette.
"No. No trouble." Finn responded, shaking his head.
"What's this I hear about your fiancée flogging Linda, then?" Tommy asked, looking directly at you.
"She suggested my Dad was negligent. I wasn't having it," You answered simply, looking right back at him.
You were feeling nervous, even if your actions didn't show it, with the way your heart was palpitating you had no doubt.
"I know, and I think she knows that now too. Try to keep punches between you and any member of the Shelby family to a minimum from now on, yeah?" Tommy said, and you knew even though it sounded like a question, it was a command.
"Yeah." You agreed quietly, stepping back.
Finn let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as Tommy nodded.
"Erm, after we get married, (Y/N) wants some stuff to happen, Tom." Finn cut in, making Tommy cock a brow, but gesture for him to continue.
"She wants you to hire Aberama whenever you can, because he'll be family and we take care of our own. She wants you to promote Bonnie as best as you can, and for the Lees to leave the Golds alone whenever they pass through here," Finn concluded, looking Tommy in the eyes.
Tommy took a draw from his cigarette, then nodded, "I'll see what I can do, I should be able to fulfil your wishes. You can go now, I'll lock up."
You and Finn nodded, and turned to go.
"Oh, and (Y/N), good job on getting everyone to bet today, Poll told me. It'd be good if you can do the same tomorrow." Tommy added, making you throw a 'yeah' over your shoulder as Finn opened the door for you.
"What business do you have to do?" You asked Finn curiously as you set off down Watery Lane.
"Reading lessons, I have them every night if I have the time." Finn replied, "I learn from a preacher. He's my best mate's dad."
You nodded thoughtfully as you popped another piece of gum in your mouth.
"Would — would I be able to join?" You asked, looking at him, trying not to sound too hopeful.
"Of course you can," Finn reassured, making the corners of your lips quirk up.
You walked in a comfortable silence to Jeremiah Jesus's home, where Finn knocked on the door in a particular manner.
Isiah Jesus opened the door, and grinned at his best mate, then saw you behind Finn. He quickly stepped aside and let the pair of you enter his home.
"Finn, nice to see you again," Jeremiah greeted as if he hadn't seen the boy in ages, when in reality Finn was at his house two days prior. "Here for another reading lesson?"
"Yeah, and it's always a pleasure to be here. Isiah, Jeremiah, this is my fiancée (Y/N)." Finn introduced you to the men, "She doesn't do handshakes, or any touching."
You nodded in greeting, Isiah and Jeremiah nodded back and saying their heys.
"Would it be alright if she joined in our reading lesson?" Finn asked Jeremiah, who grabbed his Bible, along with some pencils and pieces of paper.
"Of course — Come sit down, Isiah go out the kettle on." Jeremiah commanded his son as you Finn sat either side of the man at the small, rectangular dining table.
Jeremiah told Finn to start reading a particular Bible verse out loud, then turned to you.
"Do you know how to say your alphabet?" Jeremiah asked you, sliding you a pencil and piece of paper.
You nodded, placing your hands on the table unsurely.
"Know how to write it?" Jeremiah continued, making you shake your head.
"I'll write the letters and you copy them underneath," Jeremiah said, quickly writing the twenty-six letters on the page, then drawing small arrows next to the letters to show you which way to direct your pencil on the page to form the letters.
He then pointed to the first one, "This is 'a'. Now, write it on your page."
You grabbed your pencil hesitantly, feeling embarrassed.
"Hold it like this," Jeremiah advised, picking up his own pencil.
You adjusted your grip, and placed your pencil on the page, writing a shaky 'a' then looking at Jeremiah, who smiled at you.
"Well done, (Y/N)." He praised, making you smile from ear to ear.
Finn looked up at you from across the table, stopping reading momentarily. This was the first time he'd seen you properly smile, the happiest you had ever been since he met you. In the moment before he started reading again, he decided happiness looked nice on you.
§§§
I'm coming out of isolation tomorrow so Contrary probably won't be updated as frequently!!
Love y'all ❤️
- Sunflower x
NEXT PART
Part 6
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Guatemalan and Mexican jarras, used to make and/or serve chocolate, atole and café de olla, hold molinillos and other wooden kitchen implements. The Guatemalan jarra, on the left, bears the inscription: “No me olvides” (“Don’t forget about me”).
This is the time of year when the timelines of speculative fiction writers and reviewers fill with awards eligibility posts listing stories and novels readers might consider nominating for upcoming Nebula and Hugo awards.
It can be a humbling time for those of us who are slow to write and slow to submit. Many of my colleagues in the field have four or five eligible short stories, and at least one eligible longer piece (novelette, novella or novel); I have only one. And while it is true that I’m not a fantastically prolific fiction writer even in the best years, I know my creative output took a real hit in 2017.
From chatting with and hearing the comments of other Latinx writers, I’m not the only one. The profound and recurring political threats to our local and national communities, as well as the catastrophic natural events that have impacted us, our friends and loved ones, have taken a toll. Understand — none of us are laying down or laying off, none of us are willingly muting our voices at a time when it becomes more and more urgent to speak out — but writing can feel like slogging through particularly thick and bitter molasses these days.
Still, you know what they say.
One. Story. At. A. Time.
My award nomination eligible short story this year — “Sin Embargo,” published in the anthology Latin@ Rising in January — is among my favorites. It plays across languages. It looks at tough issues of displacement and migration and politically motivated brutality, and still finds a way to speak of love, of hope, and of the radically transformative magic of interpersonal solidarity. It is a bear to read aloud because of all the bilingual homographs, and yet I insist on doing just that at public readings because … well, there is delight to be had in noting difference and similarity and the possibility of wholeheartedly embracing both.
In “Sin Embargo,” by Sabrina Vourvoulias, the psychology of immigration and asylum collides with inhuman transformation. — Kirkus Reviews
“Sin Embargo” is not, unfortunately, available to read online for those who might want to read it for nomination consideration. But the whole anthology is top-notch and well worth purchasing in print or eBook, and it deserves a a much wider SFF readership than it has had so far.
Latin@ Rising includes wonderful reprint stories from writers celebrated by the SFF community (Junot Díaz, Carlos Hernández, Daniel José Older and Carmen María Machado), along with remarkable original stories by Latinx literary luminaries that are perhaps less known to SFF-only audiences, like the superb Kathleen Alcalá and Ana Castillo. It also includes the first English-language translation of a short story, “Accursed Lineage,” by Daína Chaviano, who is considered one of the three most important SFF authors writing in Spanish (Argentina’s Angélica Gorodischer and Spain’s Elia Barceló are the other two).
I honestly believe that if Latin@ Rising had been reviewed by SFF-focused review sites, or if it had gotten the attention other, more mainstream SFF anthologies have received this year, many of its stories would already be on people’s Nebula and Hugo nominating lists. I’m particularly fond of “Caridad” by Alex Hernández, “The Drain” by Alejandra Sánchez,”Room for Rent” by Richie Narvaez, and “Flying Under the Texas Radar With Paco and Los Freetails” by Ernest Hogan. (I wish there were an award somewhere for ingenious story titles because Hogan would be a repeat winner. “Pancho Villa’s Flying Circus” in the anthology We See a Different Frontier is another good one of his.)
Beyond Latin@ Rising
I read a lot of other great short stories this year and no way can I remember them all, but among those that live most vividly in my memory are:
“The Famine King” by Darcie Little Badger (Mythic Delirium)
“Monster Girls Don’t Cry” by A. Merc Rustad (Uncanny Magazine)
“Clearly Lettered in a Mostly Steady Hand” by Fran Wilde (Uncanny Magazine)
“Naranjas Inmortales” by Ezzy Guerrero Languzzi (from the anthology Strange California)
“The Obsidian Codex“ by David Bowles (from his 2017 collection of short stories Chupacabra Vengeance). I think this story is longer than a short story, possibly novelette length? A further word about this collection (which contains my favorite Bowles story, “Wildcat,” originally published by Apex Magazine in 2015): Many of the stories in the collection are very dark and contain horrors beyond the commonplace … a number of them really should be under consideration for a Shirley Jackson award.
“The Corporal” by Ali Bader. All right, this short story isn’t actually eligible for nomination since it appeared (translated) in the 2016 anthology Iran +100, but I only read it this year so, for me, it is identified with this year’s great pieces. I urge you to seek it out simply for the pleasure of reading a beautifully written fantasy with sci fi elements.
As far as 2017 novels are concerned, I haven’t yet read most of the ones that have been mentioned in the overlapping “Best of” lists are being published now. Still, I am hoping that the exceptional “American Street” by Ibi Zoboi is on lots of folks’ award-nominating lists in either the novel or YA categories. And, yes, it is good enough to deserve to be on both at once.
If I can dredge up more recommended reads from my memory banks during this nominating period, I’ll update this post. Stay tuned.
And don’t forget to nominate!
2017 awards eligibility and what I’ve loved reading this year This is the time of year when the timelines of speculative fiction writers and reviewers fill with awards eligibility posts listing stories and novels readers might consider nominating for upcoming Nebula and Hugo awards.
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