#no big deal just this scene lives in my head rent free now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marypsue · 1 year ago

Note

don’t let the sun go down on me continues to live in my head rent free so any DVD commentary of that you can spare would be much appreciated 🙏🏼

[from this meme]

Thank you very much!

don't let the sun go down on me

Before I start, I have to thank @trulyalpha / scoutshonour's we have the time, the inspiration, the blueprint, the OG Steve/Nancy/Jonathan vampire fic. Without it, this one wouldn't exist.

"Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me" is an Elton John song, but the place I first encountered it (and what I was thinking of when I used it for this fic) was Roger Daltrey's cover for The Lost Boys. So. There's that.

The first chapter was written and posted in a feverish haze in June of 2021. It was meant to be a one-shot; I never had any plans to continue it. And then in 2022 Season 4 came out and while I'm generally not impressed with it, I got absolutely obsessed with the idea of vampire trueforms modelled off the Vecna design and things...escalated quickly.

Chapter One

One of the best pieces of advice that I ever received about writing was that the story starts so much later than you often think it does. Especially when I'm writing oneshots, I try to cut right to the the part where the story I actually want to tell starts. In this case, there's a whole leadup of Steve hearing or seeing something in the woods and going to investigate and discovering a monster and some kids seemingly being menaced by the monster and going to the rescue and a whole fight scene that I decided I didn't want to write, because the story was about Nancy and Jonathan being vampires and Steve falling in love with both of them. And honestly, I don't feel like the story is lacking for not having that monster fight in it. A few sprinklings of exposition in the narration and dialogue takes care of it quite nicely.

I love giving vampires eyeshine.

Sometimes, it takes Steve an eternity to understand how things fit together. And then, sometimes, his brain makes lightning-fast connections between random things without his even asking it to.

Steve Harrington ADHD. I don't care what the show says. It just makes sense.

(On an unrelated note, OG Season 3 Robin Buckley also ADHD. I am getting off the soapbox now.)

“That’s my kid sister.”

There are two aspects of Jonathan Byers' character that felt indelibly important to me to preserve even in an AU: he is a big brother, and he is deeply protective of and materially supportive of Joyce. Turning her from his mom into his little sister kept both of those things intact even with the change in timelines. I felt particularly proud of this one.

...and wow, there is something about her saying his name with blood all over her face that Steve is going to just pack away in the back of his mind for later.

It was very important to me and to making this whole thing work that Steve is just wildly, unabashedly, maybe a little bit confusedly but totally wholeheartedly horny for the whole vampire deal. He's discovering so many new things about himself over the course of this fic, and a fetish for fangs is just part of the package deal.

He doesn’t want to be a vampire. There are probably a lot of very good reasons for that, and the fact that the only one coming to his stunned mind is that vampires probably don’t get basketball scholarships means nothing.

This just made me laugh when I thought of it.

“Oh shit, is it bad?” Steve turns to look at Jonathan. He sounds like he’s less likely to try to sugar-coat it. “It sounds like it’s bad. ..."

"Son of a bitch, Lucas, is it bad?!"

The whole idea of vampire thralls and Steve maybe becoming one was something that was on my mind throughout the rising action in we have the time, but never came up in that fic. I wanted to dig into the concept, and also, it seemed like a good excuse to force Nancy and Jonathan to have to pull Steve into their investigation of the events of Season 1.

Nancy and Jonathan basically forgetting Steve's there so they can rehash an old argument (and also drop some exposition because I'd never expected to continue this fic but I had backstory I wanted to sneak in) is so funny to me, one of the ways I wanted to show they were an established established (read: old married) couple, and also quite possibly the moment Steve fell helplessly head over heels for both of them.

His mom’s sleeping with Prince Valium tonight

Lifted this line from Beetlejuice because I think it's criminally underrated. Also because, as I mentioned in my other post, my go-to characterisation for Steve's mom is just Delia Deetz. Also, also, it unintentionally became good foreshadowing.

Just because he keeps deciding to do what he thinks will make the prettiest girl alive happy – Oh. Shit. She’s not alive, though. Is she.

When I first started writing this, I had Steve referring to Nancy as 'the prettiest girl in the world' before he knew her name. And then I realised I could do this if I made one little change.

Jesus. Steve hadn’t even asked if they kill people.

Yeah, I don't think he ever actually does end up asking that.

Chapter Two

As mentioned above, in about September 2022 the bug bit me hard and I resurrected this fic from the dead, with 'vampires, but make it Vecna-inspired and explicitly Upside-Down-related' on my mind and a half-formed thought about a murder mystery. I thought this fic had maybe three chapters in it, total, counting the original oneshot. I thought it would be quick and easy to wrap up. Hahahahahaha.

I did actually start writing this chapter back when I wrote the original oneshot - the scene where Steve finds the obits at the library, specifically up to the part where he's looking at Nancy and Jonathan's yearbook photos, was written in 2021. I decided to cut off the fic the night of Nancy and Jonathan's visit because I didn't have a direction to go in to continue it, and it felt like a complete thought. Also, I was only adding onto it because I wanted the mental image of Nancy and Jonathan in fifties styles.

And then, in 2022, I stumbled upon a direction to go in to continue it.

"...Why am I out in the woods at night with a bobby soxer who wears a virgin pin?”

Shoutout to @marzipanandminutiae who was talking about fashion history and popular fashion myths, and brought to my attention both the fad of circle pins for girls in the fifties and the myth that wearing them on one or the other side of your cardigan meant that you had or hadn't had sex / whether you would have sex. Fearmongering about silly teenage accessory trends having to do with secret sex signals didn't start in my youth, apparently. (Anybody remember jelly bracelets? I was a full adult before I found out those were supposed to be a kind of playground handkerchief code.)

I looooove writing ominous horror scenes where Something Bad Is Lurking and the characters are starting to realise it too but they will not know until it's too late. New favourite thing. Love tension. Love when everybody's thinking the same thing but nobody dares to come right out and say it.

You heard Chief Keller.

Yes, I have been watching Riverdale in fascinated horror. It's just...it's so audaciously bonkers. And so fully committed - at least for the episode or two each of them lasts - to its bits. I have to respect that. And it makes me feel sooooooo good about my plotting and pacing capabilities.

(Also, Chad Michael Murray giving an actually pretty thoughtful and nuanced performance as a charismatic high-control group leader, only to throw it all out the window when he got told 'oh btw your character dies next episode' and start gnawing through backdrops like the Hungry Hungry Caterpillar while doing three costume changes in two scenes and then trying to Evel Knievel his way off a building in a homemade rocket only to get unceremoniously and undramatically shot dead offscreen, not even by a main character, is something I never knew I needed in my life. This show makes so many choices and all of them make me want to take the tops off the writers' heads and dissect their brains.

But I digress.)

Usually when he’s on the receiving end of that stare, Hopper’s digging for something to tie him to anything from the giant GO TIGERS spraypainted across the courthouse to the beer cans and partygoers hastily hidden all over the house behind him to the rotten eggs splattered all over the side of a police cruiser, and the best course of action is to look wide-eyed and innocent and only say ‘No, chief, I have no idea about that’.

Just given who they are and what their respective roles in the community have been up until this point, there is a deep, rich vein of hilarity in Hopper and Steve both ending up in the Upside Down crew (I'm still pushing for 'fellowship' to refer to everyone who Knows, it's thematically and textually appropriate!) that has yet to be mined.

Happened the same year they opened up that lab south of town.

I'll be honest, I avoided saying much about how the events of canon went down in this 'verse on purpose. Partly because it's Season 1 and our POV character is Steve, who never gets told anything until it's much, much too late, but also partly because I didn't finish Season 4 and don't care enough to seek out spoilers to know what happened. And I think that what Season 4 tries to establish as Lore could have some serious bearing on what would make sense for the backstory to the canon events in this story. So. Please fill in the gaps as appropriate.

Steve drums both hands against the desk, and the librarian gives him a flat, unimpressed look that’s almost the twin of the one Hopper gave him in the reading room. Apparently he just has this effect on adults.

Steve Harrington ADHD.

Jonathan’s so busy sawing at the last of the vines still wrapped around Nancy’s ankle that he doesn’t notice the thick central stalk of the plant…thing pushing back up through the crumbling ground behind him.

I wrote a post about this and now tumblr won't let me find in search on my blog, because it won't show me basically any original posts I made between about June of last year and now in search on my blog, for some fucking reason. But. The way I conceptualised it is that this thing Nancy and Jonathan fought is the most stripped-down, basic trueform of a vampire in this 'verse. The two of them got infected while they were fighting it. Basically it planted seeds or spores or whatever it uses to reproduce into their bodies, and then grew throughout those bodies, intertwining its central stalk with their spines and its vines with their nervous systems so it could animate the bodies even after its intrusion killed them. Jonathan and Nancy both still have intact (or mostly-intact) brains, intact senses of self and memories. But they've also got new biological needs and new, compelling instincts that can overtake their higher brain functions in the right circumstances. And if you stripped away all the meat and muscle, you'd find something that looks an awful lot like this evil plant that tried to eat them growing on a trellis made out of their bones.

Vampires in this 'verse are a kind of parasitic fungus. (Which is also why ingesting their blood can affect the behaviours and brain functions of other people, and even make others like them.) I think this is the coolest shit and I will not stop talking about it. That is all.

(Also. Steve's still hot and bothered about it. That's important too.)

Nancy’s not sure how long they sit there, together, clutching each other and just trying to breathe.

Neither Nancy or Jonathan can see much of what's going on around them at this point, so I'm pretty sure this is where Brad found them. And how Brad found them.

Nicole’s not bad-looking, and she’s a fun time at parties even if she is kind of a nerd. And they’re both single right now. Steve’s not sure why he suddenly wants to pull away.

It's because you're already hopelessly in love with two other people. Hope that helps.

I can kind of understand how and why the fandom sort of collectively forgets Fred existed. I wouldn't say he was the biggest standout of Season 4's crop of cannon fodder for me, either. But you show me a weedy little nerd of a character who's using a prickly sarcastic sense of humour to deflect from a truly monstrous baggage of survivor's guilt and blame around unintentionally hurting someone he cared about in a way that can't ever be ameliorated or forgiven, and then be like 'yeah everybody in-canon and in the fandom kinda forgot about him lmao', and. Well. Now I gotta do something meaningful with him. I gotta.

Also, he made a good red herring suspect.

He thinks about Nancy’s apologetic smile as she said she thought she’d enthralled him, about how Jonathan had said or you’d lose your mind, and wonders, for the first time, how they know.

I also got to this plot point by writing Nancy and Jonathan's turning, stopping, realising they would not know any other vampires, and wondering, myself, how they heck they'd know all that stuff about blood and thralls. The answer that presented itself was: firsthand.

When she tries to raise her arms, to pull away the covers that have somehow gotten wrapped over her face, she bumps into something flat and cold and solid barely a few inches above her.

I learned after writing this that apparently the fridges in a morgue are like one big open space with all the rolling trays sliding back into it, not like a narrow slot for each tray with top, bottom, and sides. Oh well.

Nancy pulls the letterman jacket she’d been wearing from the plastic bag full of her clothes that they’d found in the trash. Her expression is mournful, almost stricken, as she takes in the ragged slashes torn through the leather of the sleeves, the frankly astonishing size of the rusty red-brown stain surrounding a single puncture in the back. It makes the tiger applique look like its snarling mouth has just taken a bite out of some fresh prey.

Have I mentioned lately that I love heavy-handed visual symbolism?

...the dingy little trailer he calls home.

Okay, so in the fifties, as I found out after I'd finished writing this, the mobile home park was still more in the 'new and exciting' category than what it would have been in the eighties. Think less Trailer Park Boys and more tiny home. However. I did not do extensive research before writing this, because I was most interested in the vampire part. And it seems to me that the kinds of people buying or renting holiday trailers to live in year-round would still have been people who thought it made more financial sense than buying a permanent building. It's also possible that Jonathan and Joyce's family were in a better position at the time they moved in than the one they're in as of this fic.

It’s been made clear to Steve on multiple occasions that one of the few rules he actually has to follow in this house is don’t bother your father when he’s in his office.

I talked a lot about what I think of Steve and his parents and their relationship and how a lot of it boils down to 'they're rich and self-centred and they're raising him the same way'. This is part of that - Steve's internalised that there are some rules that apply to him, and some that don't, and that that's just how things work, some rules apply to some people and not to others, some rules don't matter and some rules do, and it's all a matter of whether someone more powerful than you will punish you if you get caught breaking them. It seems consistent with his Season 1 characterisation, and also, it's some foreshadowing, in that it shows how the person who taught him this thinks.

Everybody knew old Gower drank like a fish.

Yeah, this name was lifted from It's A Wonderful Life. It's not actually relevant to the story, just a fun fact.

She can feel the tension in Jonathan’s arms, before she lets go. But he doesn’t raise them again. Trusting her completely.

...

Nancy doesn’t resist. She doesn’t protest. She just lets Jonathan pull her away from civilisation and deeper into the woods. Trusting him completely.

Parallel presented without comment.

“You didn’t tell me you dated my dad.”

...

“In Dracula. The vampire’s servant is named -”

...

"And from how you both apparently think humans are just here for you both to mess around with ..."

So, in case it's not clear (because Steve hasn't realised it yet, so it's deliberately oblique), this whole fight is actually about him feeling envious over Nancy and Jonathan's relationship, and between the two of them together and finding out about Fred and about Nancy dating his dad, feeling like he's not actually important to them in the way he'd kind of let himself think he was, but only one in a string of people they've used and abandoned. Steve's feeling like he cares way more about them than they do about him, and also maybe he's a little scared by how much he already cares about them. And also he doesn't have the emotional intelligence to identify correctly how he's feeling and why, so he takes it out on them both.

This is not a recommended course of action for dealing with monsters than can tear you open as soon as look at you, by the way.

“Steve,” Nancy says, like Steve’s a dog who’s just pissed on the rug.

He is really not feeling valued in this relationship, folks.

Also, like in canon, Jonathan will take anything mean anybody says about or to him. But the instant you drag his family into it, it's game over.

She only lives – her family’s house is ...

I made the same mistake Nancy does, went to correct it, and then went, 'ohhhHHHHHHHH'.

Chapter Three

I really, honestly did think this was going to be the final chapter of this fic when I started writing it.

I like Tommy and Carol because like. They're not evil, they're just high school evil. I like them best as people who genuinely like and care about each other (and Steve), who just have absolutely no idea how to express that in a positive way without the forces of high school social politics dictating how they interact with each other. Likewise, I think Tommy both looks up to Steve and resents the fact that he's second to Steve, and is always looking for little opportunities to both impress and one-up Steve. (Which is part of why he's second to Steve - because he's too obvious about how much he cares. High school, man.)

Except. He’d been so angry when he’d thought Jonathan was a murderer. Like Jonathan had personally betrayed him. Steve’s not sure what that means. If it means anything. He’s not sure he wants to think too much about it.

Some fics I write are about the slow development of feelings between characters. Not this one. Steve caught feelings before the story even started, and the rest is just him slowly realising that that's happened.

Trying to lay seeds of evidence for the solution to the murder plot while misdirecting readers away from where they're actually supposed to point is hard, but also so much fun. I tried to make each of my clues, independently, be something that could point in two or more directions. So, for example, Fred's notebook with his evidence that there was foul play in Nancy's death being missing after the crash points toward his accident being intentional, and the actual murderer trying to suppress the evidence, but it doesn't point to one specific suspect. Personally, I thought it suggested the lab most strongly. But when you put it all of the evidence together, you start to see that some of those alternate options cancel each other out, which leaves only the one, true murderer right in the crosshairs.

It's a technique I'm going to be carrying forward in my plotting in the future. After all, when you boil them down, most stories are, at heart, either a mystery or a romance. And romances are a kind of mystery, because you need to be leaving and developing clues about why these people like each other, and -

Anyway.

“Nance. It’s okay. It’s been thirty years. I’ve made my peace with it. I’m dead.”

I love Jonathan 'resigning myself to it so I don't have to hope for anything because hoping for something and (inevitably) not getting it would break me in half and somebody in this family(/relationship) has to be The Strong Reliable Okay One' Byers and love and consideration breaking down his shitty coping mechanisms so much. I also love undead characters being matter-of-fact about not being human when it clearly bothers them more than they want anyone to know. Two great tastes that taste great together.

And tried not to think too hard about the last time he’d had a girl who wasn’t Carol up here.

Steve: it's not weird that I'm thinking about sex while I'm inviting Jonathan and Nancy into my bedroom. Nancy's here and I'm in love with her. So it's not weird.

Steve straightened up and turned around with it in hand, only to catch both Nancy and Jonathan watching him intently. “What?”

They were both staring at his ass while he was bent over with his back to them, here.

(That's not a joke, that's actually what I was going for.)

"... You, obviously, and Brad, and Chief Keller, and anybody they might’ve told about it, I guess…”

Another thing about laying clues - it's good if they can have more than one logical interpretation, because then you can have your characters put the pieces together and move forward based on entirely the wrong logical interpretation, and then your characters don't look stupid or oblivious. (Unless, of course, that's what you want.) But, it's also good to keep bringing up the actual right answer to the mystery in conjunction with those clues. Not so much that it's obvious. Just enough so that the actual solution is kept in the reader's mind, so when the big reveal comes they're not going 'wait, who? What? Why? Where did he come from?', but 'OOOOOOHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh.'

Did I get this in this fic? That is for you to tell me. But that's what I was going for.

He was interrupted by a choked noise from Jonathan, and a disbelieving, “Chief Hopper? Chief Jim Hopper?” from Nancy.

I just think that characters having different perspectives on each other is a rich vein to be mined for characterisation and also for hilarity. And also the idea of these two being older teenagers when Hopper was in middle school just demanded to be brought up.

And since when does Steve care so much about what Jonathan thinks of him, anyway?

He is so stupid (affectionate).

“- said they lost the bodies, Joyce! Lost them! ..."

This fic was specifically about Steve and Nancy and Jonathan, and in Steve's POV, so I didn't really get to get into the other two parallel storylines. But I did want to give a sense that they were going on, and also a glimpse at what was going on in them. It's one of my favourite things about Season 1.

“This isn’t funny, kid. What, is Bill Hagan’s boy in the bushes with a video camera? ..."

Every interaction Hopper and Steve have ever had before today makes it absolutely reasonable for Hopper to come to the conclusion that Steve is playing a cruel practical joke! He's wrong, we as readers know he's wrong, but he doesn't have the luxury of our perspective on Steve and it makes sense for him to think it! I just love it when characters have impressions and perspectives of each other that are shaped by their experiences with each other, and are necessarily incomplete, biased, influenced by their own prior experiences, and not the same as the impression or perspective the reader has! It makes characters feel whole and distinct from each other and human, to me!

"... I mean, you are vampires. I still don’t even know what you eat.”

Oh, he did ask! I'd forgotten. Would've been in character for him to just conveniently forget, though.

... Steve’s sure would have had the neighbours calling in yet another noise complaint if they weren’t in Bermuda...

I love a good foreshadowing, don't you?

“You can’t be Mike,” she’s insisting, in the face of all the evidence. “Last time I saw Mike, he was just two years old.” “So was Will, Nancy,” Jonathan says, so gently. It’s sweet how hard he’s trying not to laugh. “No. It has not been ten years since the last time we were here. That can’t possibly be right.”

This, unfortunately, is just what being an adult is like.

He doesn’t even really understand what’s going on. Something about making a sensory deprivation tank, or maybe a battery? The kids had all kind of been talking over each other when they tried to explain. But apparently, this pool full of body temperature water and road salt is supposed to help them find Will Byers. Somehow.

Is it really even the season's big group DIY project if Steve Harrington doesn't not fully understand what's going on?

“The way I lost it on Steve, the other night,” Jonathan says, flatly. “That’s not – he’s a complete stranger, he shouldn’t have been able to get to me like that. I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that. And you, nearly turning him -”

Jonathan Byers: The only possible explanation for how crazy we've both been acting over Steve is interdimensional interference. The only possible explanation.

If these three could communicate with each other for five minutes and all get on the same page, there would have been no story.

Steve is so hot for everything inhuman about Nancy and Jonathan that it's almost embarrassing and I love that for him.

Were Nancy and Jonathan not sure about how to get into the lab because I wasn't sure how to get them into the lab? I'll never tell, and I'm sure you'll never guess.

Nancy and Steve calling each other 'Nicole' and 'Brad' in their fake fight was unreasonably funny to me. Actually, the whole fake fight was so much fun to write. I considered cutting it, because I'm not sure it adds anything to the story as a whole, but...well, this is fan fiction. Also, I wanted to give Steve a chance for his strengths to shine and to save the day in front of the two people he most wants to impress. He was angling hard to get himself and Nancy taken inside so he could 'call his dad'. And it almost worked, too.

That warm, wet something trickling down Steve’s forehead chooses that moment to drip into his eyelashes, sticking them together for a moment.

We all got that Steve realised he was bleeding and that Jonathan was injured and likely to attack him over it, and then went over to try to help Jonathan anyway, yes?

Something moves under Steve’s fingers, those black veins shifting in Jonathan’s throat like living things, and Steve has to swallow down bile.

Parasitic fungus!

There’s no emotion Steve can discern in Jonathan’s voice at all as he says, “I’ll kill you.” Steve has maybe never thought so fast before in his life. “Like Nancy with the dog,” he says, and Jonathan lets out a shuddering exhale.

Jonathan's trying his hardest to scare Steve off for his own safety, make Steve think he's threatening him, but Steve stops and thinks about it first, unlike when he jumped to the conclusion that Jonathan was a murderer, and - correctly - identifies it as a statement of fact. That Jonathan won't be able to help himself, because he's injured badly and needs blood. I figured this whole interaction was the moment Jonathan finally mentally went aw, shit, I'm in love with this stupid stubborn asshole.

“You’re not really much of a killer, man.”

Specifically, this exact moment, when Steve completely backtracks on everything he'd said the previous night about Jonathan being a murderer and places his life entirely into Jonathan's hands.

It's not really all that much like what he’d imagined, the other night, with his hand down his boxers. But fuck if it isn’t still lighting up those crossed wires in Steve’s head like the Fourth of fucking July.

The older I get, the less I'm interested in vampire bites ~not really hurting at all~ and ~inducing euphoric bliss~ and the more I'm interested in the people on the receiving end of vampire bites just being huge fucking masochists.

And he knows he’s never seen her with that dead-eyed, monstrous face on before. Steve’s dick does its level best to give an interested twitch about it.

In The Lost Boys, the only vampire/half-vampire who we don't get to see with monstrous, freaky vampface on is the female love interest. I think this rather denotes a lack of courage.

Chapter Four

I wrote pretty much all of chapters four and five as one piece, and then waffled over whether to split them into two. I even polled he studio audience here on tumblr (though not actually with a poll because I was late to get polls). I'm pretty sure the result was 'one big-ass long chapter please'. And then I went ahead and split it into two anyway.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling, having somebody else, somebody he’s made a practical career out of lying to, invent him such a plausible alibi without any input from him.

The thing is, while the perception of Steve that Hopper has from seventeenish years of shenanigans is incomplete, it's also not wrong. It is a spooky feeling to know you've been perceived, and with more recognition and understanding than you'd realised, but the person doing the perceiving still doesn't like you.

They’re both making their arguments like they’re concerned for Steve. But Steve, slumped in the backseat, resting his aching head against the cool glass of the rattling window, knows them both well enough to know that what they’re really fighting about is his dad’s fucking around. He’s heard them make the exact same arguments, in almost the exact same words, about who’s going to stay home and take care of his dad’s tropical fish.

Tell me you had a kid when you should have gotten a dog (okay, well, maybe you also shouldn't have gotten a dog) without telling me...

"...The things we do for our ungrateful kids, huh?” Hopper’s eyes narrow, a little.

If you can't tell that Jim Hopper would cheerfully strangle this man in cold blood and broad daylight just to have a chance to get stuck staying home with his concussed kid, then I haven't done my job.

“You’re lucky to be alive, asshole,” Carol agrees. Steve can’t explain why his chest suddenly feels so hollow.

...

“And thanks for saving my life or whatever, I guess.”

...

It hurts more if Steve presses his fingers against the bandage just over where the bite mark’s trying to scab closed.

I spent a lot of time wallowing in the sense of missed opportunities and squandered chances that leads Steve to take some stupid, risky chances - like, for example, confronting somebody he thinks is a murderer to his face. He's clearly missing Nancy and Jonathan, and feeling like he's missed his one chance with the both of them even though he'd never put it into words like that at this point, but also - he's trapped in the house with people who genuinely don't care enough whether he lives or dies to worry about him for his own sake, and feeling like maybe he doesn't, either. He was ready and willing to die happy in the woods that night, and now he's been denied that, and he's staring down the barrel of up to eighty more years of just the same mundane tedium and catty, shallow relationships and bullshit.

I had to raise the temperature slowly to a boil, to get this boy ready to do something drastic, and it's one of my favourite parts of this fic.

The lady at the ticket window tells him that with the Greyhound drivers’ strike, she can’t guarantee he’ll get to wherever he’s going when he wants to be there.

I found out about the Greyhound strike in the 80s when I was doing a little googling to figure out how likely it'd be for them to have a route that'd take Steve out to Pennhurst, and absolutely had to toss it in. For historical flavour, and to hammer home the sense of isolation and futility. It just dovetailed so nicely.

She looks over Steve’s shoulder, at the woman who’d reached for him, and smiles warmly, though there’s still steel in her voice as she says, “And you’d do well to remember you’re a guest in his house. Evelyn, stop trying to mooch cigarettes off the visitors, you and I both know the doctor doesn’t want you to have them.”

'Spooky scary asylum inmates' is a shitty trope that sucks. Steve absolutely 100% would have no other schema for mental illness, though. I tried to thread that needle by having him react initially with horror to the weird, strange, freaky behaviour of the inmates, and then recontextualise that behaviour as like. yeah she just wants to bum a cigarette. what's your problem. Also to keep reminding Steve that hey, you were like three drops of blood away from being in that exact same position, and your future health and sanity is Not Guaranteed. Not sure how much any of that succeeded but. There was only so much lipstick I was gonna be able to put on that pig.

Why Steve can’t just leave it alone. His life is better, they chorus in the theatre of his imagination, if he just shuts up and keeps his head down and pretends not to notice or care like the coward he is.

There is a question that the show raises and that I think this fic is asking, which is, was Steve always the kind of guy who'd go running to the rescue with a bat when it came down to the wire and people's lives were on the line, no questions asked, or did he need Nancy's influence to let him become that? And the answer is yes. I do like how in canon it's Tommy's goading about how Steve always runs away that ends up getting him to go face his fuckups and his fears. How it's his old friends, being their shitty selves, who help move him toward becoming a better version of himself. I have several emotions and none of them are coherent.

“Hey, I’ve got to get going, I was really just passing by – but when Jonathan comes back, let him know I was looking for him? That I wanna talk to him? Or Nancy, if you see her.”

In my original draft, Steve came straight home from Pennhurst and went and confronted his dad. (Well, okay, he had dinner first.) And then I realised there was no reason for Nancy and Jonathan to break their 'we're going to stay away from Steve so maybe we don't accidentally murder him for real this time' streak, and they probably wouldn't be coming to the rescue. Which is why this scene's here. However. I like it a lot and I'm glad it's here. Steve very awkwardly trying to interact with anyone other than Nancy and Jonathan immediately post-Season 1 gives me life.

... or some kind of strategy to stop Logansport’s freakishly fast point guard from kicking all their asses.

I did Actual Research for this line (read: I looked on Google Maps and compared the positioning of Hawkins within Indiana on the Season 2-3 geological survey map to small-ish cities in the area who could believably be high school rivals to their sports teams, and also looked at the Wikipedia page for 'basketball'). I will have it appreciated.

Of life before it all turned upside down on him.

I will not stop making stupid jokes and that is a threat.

His mom jokes over dinner that maybe Steve should be concussed more often, it’s been so quiet and peaceful around the house.

A+ Parenting

I talked at length about the confrontation between Steve and his dad, so I won't rehash it.

“You should know,” she says, taking a single step toward them, as slow and deliberate as her nod. “After all, you were the one who killed me.”

Nancy Absolutely Did Not know this until approximately ten minutes ago. She is doing a fantastic job of bluffing.

“I didn’t,” Jonathan says, low enough that at first Steve isn’t sure if he really heard it at all. “You believe me, right? I didn’t.” “What? Barbara? I know that, he has no idea what he’s talking about, can we just go?”

Jonathan still can't quite believe that Steve doesn't actually think he's a heartless, remorseless killer without anything human left in him. Mostly because that's sort of how Jonathan's been thinking about himself for the last thirty years. (Remorseless killers usually do not have this much angst about their lack of remorse, Jonathan. Protip.)

Chapter Five

After what he’s heard, tonight, he doesn’t want to give his dad the chance to say that Steve went after him, that the knife was self-defense. That a combination of the concussion and some local history project just deluded Steve into thinking his dad was a killer.

I got a lot of comments on chapter four about how Steve's dad wasn't thinking and how was he planning to get away with murder after he killed his own son in his own office in cold blood. I let myself go down the rabbit hole a little thinking about how, exactly, he would try to get away with it. And I think Steve knows his dad well enough by now to have a pretty good idea.

It turns out that limping into a police station covered in your own blood is a great way to get a lot of attention very quickly.

I'm just very proud of this line.

“Jesus, Harrington, they’re gonna have to start giving you frequent flyer miles.”

I promise I didn't set out writing this fic planning to nearly kill Steve three separate times. It just...happened.

... Hopper shoots an awkward, try-hard grin in Steve’s direction and drops into the chair beside his hospital bed. “Heyyyy, kid. How you feeling.”

I just think Hopper's absolutely abysmal bedside manner in Season 2 is the funniest thing. And. Well. Just made myself sad thinking about the possible reasons why he's so bad at being normal beside a hospital bed with a kid in it. Okay!

It seems to me to be a very popular trope for Steve to end up getting kind of pseudo-adopted by Hopper and Joyce. I see why it appeals, but it's never clicked for me. And yet. The logical progression of this fic led me here. Never say 'I'll never write...'.

At least Will sounds slightly less accusing than Mike Wheeler had when he says, “What’re you doing here?”

We collectively as a fandom do not honour Will Byers' sassmaster energy enough.

“Yeah, no shit I’m upset. What was that? Just drop me and run like an unwanted baby at a firehouse?”

Steve is...kind of a fascinating contradiction in terms, in some ways, to me. I see a lot of fanon where he's very much a sick cat about things that bother him, that he'll shut down and try to hide what he's feeling for the sake of other people, and I don't think that's wrong necessarily but I do think it's...incomplete. Like, maybe he would downplay the seriousness of his own hurts and how much they're affecting him if being honest about them would hurt other people...but that absolutely doesn't mean he's not going to bitch about them. Loudly.

“Witless protection program,” Jonathan says.

We also as a fandom collectively need to appreciate how funny Jonathan is more often.

This whole confrontation was a bit of a balancing act. I didn't want it to turn into an angstfest. There was a certain degree of 'avoiding you for your own good'/'denying my feelings for your sake' mutual pining going on in this story, and I really needed there to be a good reason why these characters didn't just communicate with each other (or, at least, for the characters themselves to feel like they had a good reason). I also didn't want to wallow in that misunderstanding, because quite frankly it drives me batty when characters who are mutually into each other end up in a situation where it's almost unavoidable that their true feelings must come out and they must communicate, but they squander it on doing everything in their power to deliberately interpret everything the character they're into does or says as rejection, and deliberately hiding all of their actual thoughts and feelings to try to drive off the character they're into. Like, at a certain point you step past obliviousness and into 'yeah maybe you guys shouldn't be together, actually, if this is how you're gonna be'. These guys aren't communicating well, but god dammit, they're communicating.

It’s so – direct. No hesitation. None of Jonathan’s usual holding back. Just confidence, certainty.

Jonathan Byers has never been hotter than that moment in the hallway in Season 1 where he's throwing that lighter and that's just facts. It's the purpose, clarity, and confidence.

Jonathan devours his mouth like – like he’s starving to death and Steve’s an open wound.

I was proud of this line, too.

... and turns on the smile that’s made half the female population of Hawkins High turn cherry-red and suddenly become very amused by the floor.

This is totally the face he gave Nancy when he was trying to convince her to play 'strip flashcards' in s1e1.

...Jonathan’s got an arm around her waist and his face pressed into the crook of her neck, pressing kisses to the pale skin exposed by the slip of her robe. She raises an arm to cradle his head...

And this is absolutely the Dirty Dancing pose. Minus the side-skimming hand gesture that tickled Jennifer Grey badly enough to bust out laughing.

“I don’t have any blood flow,” he says, sounding defensive. “It’s got to be within a couple hours after I’ve eaten if you want me to, uh.”

I went back and forth on whether to include this, and finally decided I was leaving it in because it made my friends laugh. And because I love speculative fantasy xenobiology in action. 'But Mary, drinking blood won't introduce it to the circulatory -' I already told you these vampires are a parasitic fungus animating dead flesh, right? The fungus uses fine tentacle-vine-root-things woven through the flesh to puppeteer it? And the fungus feeds on blood, which means it uses blood for energy to, for example, move its limbs? I can bullshit this one if I want to. (Which I do.)

He remembers thinking the snake was beautiful, even as he was nearly pissing his pants in terror that it’d bite him. And now that he’s thinking about it, that comparison feels a little on the nose.

I got halfway through writing that first sentence and realised it needed a lampshade, badly.

Carol even styles Steve’s hair how he likes it, when she’s done. And there’s no way she could’ve known how looking in the mirror and seeing the hair that earned him his nickname perched on top of the haunted, battered face of a boy Steve barely recognises would make him suddenly and unexpectedly feel like throwing up.

The metaphor here may be a little unsubtle. Carol and Tommy are actually trying to be good friends to Steve, in their own, selfish, high-school-politics-influenced way. And it's got to hurt when he rejects that. But they're trying to make him feel better by getting him back to his old self. And that's only making it worse.

... some four-eyed fairy who took Nicole out to the movies last weekend in this classic car he’d restored. For this cardinal sin, one of Tommy’s buddies tracked down the auto wrecker’s where the kid’s been keeping the car while he works on it, so tonight –

I stand by my theory that Chrissy Cunningham's name is a reference to Stephen King's Christine. And so is this.

... Steve’s dating two people at once. (He tried that, once before, with Laurie and Becky. It did not end well. With the benefit of hindsight, knowing what he knows now, maybe he should’ve just asked them both if they’d be cool with it. Although he thinks the answer probably still would’ve been no.)

It is very important to me that, even when he is Having Self-Affirming Realisations and Growing As A Person, Steve is still a teenage boy.

Nancy, it turns out, likes gritty courtroom dramas.

It took me a while to figure out what kind of movies I think Nancy would like. John Grisham adaptations and Twelve Angry Men seem up her alley, though.

Jonathan’s shoulders are starting to hunch forward, turtling in on himself. He still hasn’t even moved to touch the glass Steve put in front of him.

As far as I know it's never explicitly stated in canon that Lonnie Byers is an alcoholic, and he's not even Jonathan's dad in this fic anyway, but it just makes sense to me that Jonathan does not enjoy drinking or being drunk or being around drunk people and I'm going to carry that through in everything I write.

The guy who helps Steve find what he’s looking for really knows his stuff, even if he can’t seem to resist a cheesy pun.

I love Bob Newby and I'm going to shoehorn him in everywhere I possibly can. That is all.

The scene with the kids and the D&D game was pure self-indulgence. If I were a better writer or this were a more professional piece, I might have cut it. However, this is fanfiction, and driver picks the music.

I moved Steve out to California one part so that I could do this whole thematic bit about Nancy and Jonathan choosing him, choosing to stay with him, one part because I realised I really had burned his life in Hawkins down to the ground and the most hopeful thing would be for him to be able to start over, and one part because I just thought it would be fun.

“We’ve got nothing but time.”

This was a little bit a nod to we have the time.

There was no way this fic was ever going to be complete without Steve getting to at least meet Robin. They have a beautiful friendship ahead of them.

(I've got to be honest, I've never vibed with Argyle. He annoys me on a fundamental level. But there was something about including him in this scene and in the nascent relationship between these versions of Robin and Steve that just...worked. As with Murray and Owens, whether or not a character is unbearably irritating can be a matter of which other characters they get to bounce off of and what they bring out of each other as much as that character in a vacuum.)

And that's all she wrote! I still have a vague, half-formed idea in my mind about a sequel (Barbara Holland wasn't as dead - or perhaps quite the kind of dead - that everybody thought, and El opening the Gate got her brought back as a specimen for experimentation, and something something something the US government is trying to weaponise vampirism and something something) but it never congealed into an actual plot so it's unlikely to ever materialise.

(I will tell you, because I'm not planning to write it anymore, that I had an idea for a scene where Steve, in thrall to the military's vampiric supersoldier, is forced to lure Nancy and Jonathan into a trap, and then successfully rules-lawyers his instructions into letting him cut himself so that his blood can distract the less-experienced vamp and Nancy and Jonathan can tear the bitch apart. Which would have left Steve mentally fine but physically more durable and slower to age. Felt it was a rather clever way to thread that needle. No I didn't steal this wholesale from Stephenie Meyer's Eclipse shut up.)

#chatter #this is mary's fic tag #stranger things

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ezrisdax-archive · 1 year ago

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i wanna know YOUR top 5 d20 seasons now 👀 but also top 5 trek femslash pairongs so i can pay attention to them when i eventually have crawled through the original series

dimension 20:

Fantasy High - cause I'm basic and @counterspelling got me into it that way. "you've gotta watch it beej, it's so funny" and now because of that the two of us watch the shows as they premiere together. but yeah I love these bad kids and cycle through my own faves of them but c'mon the set up is just so fun and such a cool idea and then you hit that second episode and jfc, this is a little fucked up actually and you're hooked! you're just hooked!

Mice & Murder - I need this to have a sequel cause it was just so funny and I'm a sucker for a murder mystery type deal and grant and rekha are pure fucking chaos together and I miss raph, bring this cast back pls

A Court of Fey and Flowers - I honestly wasn't sold on this one at first cause regency stuff isn't my thing but holy shit, this one goes hard and I fucking loved it.

The Seven - for exactly the same reasons as you, I mean how can you not love this one, I will take twenty seasons of their quests now thank you

Unsleeping City - this one also took a bit for me to warm up to it but I find it a comfort one to watch now, I love Lou and Ally's characters and how they bounce off of each other and the way their relationship grew in the second season too. also Zac playing a one brain cell firefighter is just so fucking funny

trek femslash, okay so you know most of these aren't gonna be from TOS right? like TOS doesn't even have enough you can really make a top five really. also this one is not in a specific order at all unlike the other lists because it changes as I change. anyway here it is also in a specific order because I'm a liar.

B'Elanna/Seven - at least once a week I text @trillscienceofficer a thing about B7 because the two of us are so fucked up on it. it's about how they mirror each other....it's about how similar they are and can't and can see that and hate that in each other but admire each other. it's about how Seven is out here awkwardly flirting with B'Elanna like c'mon. I wrote a whole fucking essay about it! an essay!!!! (basically if you wanna know more please read that essay least I turn this into another essay about them)

Tasha/Deanna - I always think of this pairing in the sense of what could have been and what we did have still. Like in season one they were always reaching out to each other when the other was hurt or under the influence and then Tasha dies! she just dies! on a mission that was meant to save Deanna! I'm just supposed to go on with my life after that???? Like god, I can only imagine the episode when Deanna loses her powers and Tasha being there for her in that one or when Tasha's sister comes on the ship and Deanna being there for her in confronting the past and what she had to do to survive. I love them for what we got in s1 but I'm forever haunted but what else could have been there.

Uhura/T'Pring - they had one scene. one. where Uhura is out here like "hey Spock your fiance is beautiful" and damn if she a) wasn't right and b) on her way to steal Spock's fiance. that's all it took for me okay, I'm easy! sure this ship requires a lot of extrapolation and we don't know anything about T'Pring really (SNW don't interact) but I know in my heart I can fix that.

Jadzia/Lenara - the big canon femslash ship of 90s cause they got to kiss on screen and do you have any idea how that rewired my brain, like sure I took way too long to figure out I liked girls too but that episode lived in my head rent free. and it was about how they couldn't be together! there were too many external factors! and they missed their chance! they missed their chance!!!!!!!!!! the scene where they pull away from each other realizing this isn't going to happen.....god.....just end me and bury me with that scene thanks.

Beckett/T'Lyn - this one is new and currently at the top because of the newness to me and the season just ended so it's my head. like I went in the season expecting to really like T'Lyn/Tendi and I did! but I came out liking these two more, there's just something about that episode where they really bonded and understood each other. I really need more of them in the future.

#replies in thirty minutes or they're free #quicklings #beej talks star trek

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rabbitindisguise · 1 year ago

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Oh, and to update my recently watched anime

favorite gay anime:

link click seasons 1 and 2 (ongoing, up to episode 9)

ayaka (ongoing, up to episode 10)

bungo stray dogs season 5 (ongoing, up to episode 8)

mononogatari seasons 1 and 2 (ongoing)

non-gay anime (shorter summaries):

my happy marriage - kind of has poly fodder but not of the best quality. I like the animation. Not a lot to say honestly

dark gathering - super scary, but very hopeful and slice of life simultaneously?? it's hard to describe. The little girl takes the role of boy prodigy and the main protagonist (the guy) needs to be rescued by her constantly because he attracts ghosts. A very interesting inversion of a standard anime trope.

comments for the rest under the cut!

link click

oh my god I don't know why I didn't watch this sooner. It's really good, the animation is gorgeous, and the time travel mechanics are possibly the most interesting ones I've ever seen in fiction ever. There are thought out limitations to the supernatural abilities like in bsd but in a subtle way- there's no government body explaining it, they're just making it up as they go along. The relationship between the two protagonists is also really interesting, it's definitely going to be on my rewatch list because of it.

ayaka

Surprisingly this has been one of my favorites- it hit a lot of tropes I'm not familiar with and definitely want to explore more in the future because they're giving me a lot of emotions. The tl;dr on the plot is a guy (J-something, green hair) who's willing to give his life away to protect his home islands, and him making re-establishing his friendship with the person he's going to be dying for (the water dragon) while the other guy has no idea that's what's happening. It's at the point in the season where I genuinely have no idea if green hair is going to live or die- the reveal was super gradual, going from the pov of the protagonist and transferring over to him and showing he's been dealing with all of this without telling anyone.

It also killed another character off the same way (dad, saved the island the first time) so I'm not sure if the power of friendship is going to save him, which is terrible. He even fits one of my favorite tropes of "guy who seems like he's slacking off is actually better than everyone else at his job" type of thing (aka kakashi). If he doesn't live I'm going to be sad about it on tumblr probably, and if he doesn't I'll be overjoyed and reblog spamming gifs so you'll all find out what happens lmao

bsd seasons 5

I mean I'm not sure I can say anything new about bsd because it's a gay staple of anime, except that maybe I liked this season a lot better than the last one because it incorporated a lot more characters I liked. The cliffhanger was kinda meh last season also. But this season has been really solid on the follow through, and it hasn't been full of really tedious flashbacks that detract from the usual interesting multilayer ongoing plotlines.

It also has dazai, and honestly he's the main reason I love the series- I don't really like some of the developments where his relationships with other characters go down darker paths though, or get simplified down or the subtext removed to make space for plot. The reveal that the several seasons of homoerotic subtext was because a character (angsty black tendrils guy) didn't have long to live is an example of that, the lack of a good explanation was why it was so compelling, so a so-so explanation is really disappointing. But! I guess it's fine because he keeps just building more relationships like that :') I really liked their trio though (dazai, tiger guy, and angsty guy), this scene lives in my head rent free

I feel like in the first couple seasons they had more to fight about, and now that some miscommunication has been resolved it feels like the emotional development between the characters hasn't carried over to the actions of the plot. Which is a huge bummer. A big draw of the series for me is the nuance of relationships between characters, and lately it's been greatly reduced in the ones I got attached to and lots of that energy has been dumped into characters I'm kind of lukewarm on. (Though even those relationships have been skimped on- there were like 0 longing or intense looks at all. Everyone instantly gets gayer around dazai but he's kind of ridiculously stiff ever since THIS scene

And yeah sure I'll never seriously ship him with anyone else, there's no coming back from that, but seriously if he's going to be like that I wish there were more flashbacks to this relationship so I could at least get more ship material to angst about before bed.)

mononogatari

This was rough getting into, but once I got past episode two there was a lot of great poly ship potential so it was totally worth it. It's a sweet slice of life style supernatural series, which is a nice change of pace. There's action but it's very emotional and in a more multilevel way than a lot of common anime where there is one main hero being supported by friends/community. There really isn't a main hero so the direction of support hits a lot of different directions, so the scenes where people talk about the support of others hit different, which I feel like is a big part of the poly appeal to me. Sword guy + botan + main protag is my main ship, but there are lots of other combos that work well.

#personal

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newobsessioneveryweek · 2 years ago

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I've laboured to answer all these questions because they've made me realise how weird writing is

Here goes

Calibri light. It just looks nice

I could do it but not without some complaining and denial. (Also I'm left-handed and my pens smudge😭)

Try to write-> fail-> read to get inspiration-> become overwhelmed with the desire to write-> fail again-> repeat.

'Infinitesimally'. I can recall the day I learned it with fondness. Also, 'fishes'.

I don't think so...

I guess the generic fear of being a terrible writer with good ideas weighs quite heavily

Positive feedback turns me into a blushing mess

Action. Dialogue is too meaty to cut imo. And actions can be hinted at for the most part, I think

Yes but not in the fearful sense. I believe in spirits in limbo that are waiting to be baptised. *I'm Christian if you couldn't tell.

Of course! The lovely person from whom I am reblogging this wrote some exquisite content that lives in my head rent-free. In fact, just last night I reread some of my favorite scenes from their work. And, yes, my old writing haunts me in all the worst ways. Living in my head rent-free but being a terrible tenant.

I believe wholeheartedly that sometimes killing your darlings is a mercy and not a crime. Not all of my darlings are fit for this cruel world but I tend to keep them around for that odd time when they can be repurposed.

1. A fuck ton of money. 90% of my problems would be solved if I had enough money. Writing would be one of those problems. Let me explain: more money = no dependence on career-building = more time to write and more money to afford the resources to assist that endeavor. No other wishes needed.

Romance. Can't do it. I don't know why, I just suck at it.

I lent a book to a friend from high school (the first Maze Runner book in the series) and I never saw it again🥲 I only lend books to people I explicitly plan on seeing again, but not to strangers. NEVER to strangers. My books are too precious to me.

Fuck no! What an awful thing to do!! Jk. It's not a big deal if you do it (though I will cringe if I see you fold the corners of your book's pages in front of me) but I will never do anything more than bend the spine a little (which is a big improvement for me).

Loose change

I have pages and pages of lore written and typed out. It's too much to get into here and now, but know there's a beefy magic system

[At a pause in the meal, Barton studied me closely. He seemed to recognise my look of consideration because he put down his utensils and turned to me fully. He gave me a scrutinising look. I tried to avoid the conversation that was sure to follow by focusing hard on the bowl of broth in front of me as if it contained the answers I sought. I was unsuccessful.

Barton put his big hand on my shoulder and leaned low to capture my gaze. “Is the soup not good?” He asked. His analysis was so blatantly wrong that I snorted despite myself. As usual, he took that as his cue to continue. “Alright, now that we’ve got the awkwardness out of the way, what’s the matter?”

I wavered on whether or not I should tell the truth. I had never been a good liar but Barton wasn’t the sort of person to readily support controversy. He was a warrior, through and through; a master in the art of war. He was everything a man in this society hoped to become. There was very little he would do if it sullied his reputation. In the end, though, I decided it wouldn’t matter what he thought. There was no chance of my father fulfilling my wish anyway. “Martha wants me to go to Malaroe,” I admitted somewhat reluctantly. His eyebrows furrowed with obvious confusion so I elaborated. “It’s a magic school in Suront.” I watched his expression change as recognition suddenly struck him. He mouthed a silent Oh.

Barton pursed his lips thoughtfully, his faraway gaze fixed unwaveringly on something behind me. “And Martha-” he spared a glance at her sitting at the far end of our table- “is insisting on this why exactly?” He sounded suspicious even though his expression was sincere. I got the feeling he was trying to get me to admit my part in a conspiracy. I shrugged curtly, returning my attention to my now-cold soup. I hoped the conversation would end there but Barton didn’t buy my ignorance. He continued burning holes into the side of my head but I didn’t waver. “You need to stop this, Finn. It will do you no good to get mixed up in this trade. It is a woman’s business.” I tried my best to tune him out but he seemed determined to speak his piece. “You need to grow up and focus on something worth your time.”

I scoffed. “Like what? Swinging a sword around while people watch and clap, preparing for a war that will never come.”

Barton didn’t get angry like I thought he would. Instead, he replaced his hand on my shoulder and waited until I reluctantly looked at him. His face was gentler than I expected but his words still made my heart ache. “I’m only trying to protect you. You do know that, don’t you? People have been whispering and it’s only thanks to father’s denial that they do not take their resistance further.”

“I didn’t ask for his help.”

“But you need it,” he said more firmly this time. “I won’t be able to protect you if you continue down this path.” If I hadn’t seen it for myself I wouldn’t have believed it but for the first time in years, I saw real fear in my brother’s eyes. But my disappointment made me cynical and that fear became disgust in my mind.

“It’s just what I thought,” I spat out. “All you care about is your public image. You’re scared that people will stop worshipping the ground you walk on if your oh-so-pathetic brother champions magic over fighting.”

“That’s not what I-”

I didn’t give him a chance to continue. I tore his hand from my shoulder and stood up.]

I wish I could post the whole chapter because I'm very proud of it, but you only asked for a passage (and I gave you quite a bit more anyway).

So! In the book I'm working on, the main character and his brother are the princes of a kingdom that's society believes that magic is a feminine art. Finn, the protagonist, is a magical arts prodigy. The only reason he was allowed to train his abilities at all was because untrained magic has weird outlets. For example, when he was a child he threw such a wild tantrum that all the windows in the palace shattered.

So his brother, Barton (the sweetheart), tries his best to protect his brother from falling prey to radicals who suspect his affinity for magic and who will try to 'correct' the mistake. However, Finn misinterprets his brother's efforts as him trying to shame him and confine him to the norms of society. Their relationship is strained to say the least.

19. My journey started in high school. I had an English teacher that inspired me to write and ever since I started seriously getting into it I couldn't help but picture a career of writing books. My mom fully supports me😊

20. I'd choose eternal happiness 👀 I can do the latter without the witch's help

21. I would and could never quit writing. It's a part of me that I'll never grow out of. Plus I've got way too much support to just quit.

22. I use Reedsy. It's very reliable. Oh! And Campfire Write helps me flesh out the worldbuilding aspects.

23. I write in the lounge of my house sometimes. I've recently discovered that sitting at a table is best for me. Usually I sit at the dining table with my laptop. There's a fireplace next to me and I usually have a cup of tea while I write.

24. Both depending on the day... Sometimes planning is more fun than writing because it feels like I'm actually contributing to the story instead of just sitting at my laptop for 3 hours, not having written a word.

25. Finn is left-handed. Call it a moment of self-insert.

26. I struggle with that. I need to work on it🥲 rn I'm doing a lot of guessing

27. Martha😭 she's Finn's cousin from a very liberal plane of the realm so she's very open-minded and kind and gentle and all that good stuff. But she's also highly paranoid and never reveals the whole truth even though she knows it would fix a lot. But I just can't ... I don't know... Keep her consistent, I guess.

28. Also Martha :) She's a cinnamon roll that can kill you (with kindness)

29. Bro, I don't know😭 I wait for the rainy season

30. I never remember details from my dreams. And they're all worthless anyway.

31. Guys, there is nothing I can say to put into perspective how much I adore you 🥲 you keep me motivated, which is all I could ever ask for

32. I don't remember, I'm sorry😟

33. I'm a digital artist, and yes, I used to draw the characters from my book quite often to get a feel for them.

34. Use it, love it, would recommend

35. Write every day. Fuck that, I have a life.

Also, to avoid adverbs. Why?? (I know why, but adverbs are cool sometimes. Lemme use em)

36. I know what it feels like to have actual clinically diagnosed OCD and hate when people say that they are similarly afflicted just because they, I don't know, do their washing at the same time every week.

I also know how it feels to constantly question your sexuality. It's happening as we speak.

Also, I am fully equipped with a real life sibling relationship. No 'hey bro, hey sis' for me, thanks.

37. That I'm delightfully insane

38. I don't think I have a set writing process :/

39. My mom

40. "You fit into me like a hook in an eye

A fish hook, an open eye"

That one's a bit unhappy, sorry 💔

I've answered all your questions!! That was challenging to do on mobile🥲

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

#Q and A

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halforcdad · 2 years ago

Note

I watched POI when it already finished airing so whenever I see someone said they watched it when it was still airing I went

Oh honey

Oh dear

Oh sweetie

You watched it live?? You watched 5x10 live?? Not knowing whats going to happen??? *Give you a hug*

I already know what was coming and still that episode left me heart broken just shattered emotionally (which is to say, also, that good writing can still make an impact even when the audience knows what's going to happen so take notes Marvel)

On another note, the 4x11 self-sacrifice lives in my head rent-free. "If you die die for something that you love" and "i'm a sociopath i dont have feelings" then she goes and kisses Root and saves them all I am on the floor bawling

the funny part is i saw bts photos from the finale that showed root and reese together and i naively thought, 'ok cool they still might die, but at least they survive until the end' and the writers really said Lol. but considering the type of show it was (and what happened to carter) and how dire things were going in s4-s5 i kinda prepared for character deaths leading up to the season. it left me numb and sad for a while, but i dont remember being extremely devastated about it. all the stuff we got with shaw dealing with it afterwards, however, that shit hurt bad. and unfortunately i love angst a lot (the writers were very good at writing sad stuff!)

my main complaint is that the death was so sudden and kinda anticlimatic (but i guess there has to be one of those to further stress how much their backs were against the wall). everyone else in the show gets a poetic death/sacrifice scene and in carter's case, at least she was killed by a significant villain in her arc and we're allowed to really feel the pain and consequences of her death, root gets taken out by a guy who started the job like two weeks ago and no time to mourn bc we're in a war Lol (and they had to rub salt in the wounds by showing us her for-sure dead body and telling us samaritan dug it up to get her implant, which while realistic, was brutal).

i feel like a lot of people talk about it as one of the worst writing decisions, but i can see why they chose to keep root's fate the same. yes, it sucked to losing a wlw character (especially when that was so close to clexa, if im not getting my times wrong), but i don't believe lgbt media should only be happy, soft stuff and that lgbt characters should be plot armor protected always. i still found a lot of meaning and emotion in the ending we got with shaw carrying on the work her team left behind with the machine and having some small piece of root to hold on to (and shaw being the only one next to fusco who never really had a lot of direct contact with the machine, getting the chance now to work closely with it and understand root more maybe that way). the show was always dealing with death/loss and grief and emphasizing how people still leave significant legacies behind and stay with us even if it's just the influence and impact they left on their surviving loved ones. i would still prefer if it had ended differently, but at least I could understand the message they were going for.

ill never stop loving 4x11 it's genuinely one of my favorite tv episodes ever. poi was very good at normalising shaw's apd and everything they did with shaw and especially what they did in the aftermath of that episode ripped me to shreds (her telling simulation root that she was her safe place and then telling real root she'd rather die than get them all killed, that made me totally normal). shaw getting the big emotional, meaningful moments in 4x11 (in the machine's simulation when she shows root one last act of kindness with 'maybe someday', the subway scene with the bomber, and of course the ending scene) was so important and well done. and root's slow-moed reactions at the end were gut-wrenching i must have rewatched that scene maybe 1000 times.

#asks #this got so long omg #not the sneak marvel diss LMAO #thank u for acknowledging poi has good writing i feel like i only hear negative comments about the writing after s5 #and thank u for the hug im pretty sure i was like shaw just staring off into the distance in denial for a bit LMAO #i havent watched poi in years but i did love the show a lot #and i love root and shaw separately and together so goddamn much #in the song cool about it by boygenius theres a line thats like 'i took your medication to know what it's like #now i have to pretend i cant read your mind' or something and that came to mind when i thought about shaw and the machine #in my angst bag LOL #anyway it meant a lot to see shaw as the last survivor still in the game at the end like yes technically shaw is the hero she gets to live #this also reminds me of how everyone was fooled by all those happy kacy bts photos from 1x17 and 1x20 #but were then crushed by what happened in those scenes meanwhile i was like poi prepared me for this you won't catch me slipping #and i enjoyed the angst thoroughly #also im not a marvel fan i got so bored during endgame i was mad that it was like 3 hrs long

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helion-ism · 3 years ago

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let’s talk about elucien

there are so many reasons why I love elain x lucien and why I think these two would not only be amazing together, but also why they belong together. one of those reasons is lucien’s sassy personality, which we already got a glimpse of in acotar (and that I miss terribly btw), and which is, in my opinion, exactly what elain needs in her life. we’re talking about lucien “your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold” vanserra. we know he’s got quite a big mouth, that’s how we got to know him, but we also know that mouth is exactly what’s gotten him into trouble before. case in point: the eye incident. lucien doesn’t mince his words and yes, that is one of the reasons why elain really needs to spend some more time with him.

she has been coddled by not only her father, nesta, feyre, but also the entire inner circle, which has allowed her to live her life passively. yes, she killed the king of hybern, and good for her, but she did it because nobody else could have done it at that point in time. ever since the war ended, elain has not actively contributed to any plot matters, whether by choice or because someone else took the choice from her. azriel said in acosf, “there is an innate darkness to the dread trove that elain should not be exposed to.” even amren pointed out that elain is capable of defending herself, but for some reason, nobody let her even though elain said she would try to find it: “then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” and yet, by the end of the book, elain’s been barely in it and has not contributed at all. (I know some people claim there’s certain things already happening in the background, but honestly, I’m not satisfied with that development happening off page, so I can’t wait to finally go on her journey and actually see her do stuff)

this moment is crucial:

does it look like she is happy with the way the others treat her? not really. when nesta snapped at her, elain started laughing. that signals relief to me because nesta, the one who has always tried to protect elain the most (nesta baby Ilysm), is the one who suddenly lost her patience. elain needs somebody like lucien, somebody with a big mouth and sassy attitude, who can coax her out of that paralysis she’s been stuck in, a bit like nesta in this scene. additionally, the banter would be top tier. I want another “if I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?” moment, please. god please. (elain blinks. “and where would you like that kiss?” — and lucien just loses his mind.)

another thing that lives in my head rent free is the fact that lucien has travelled almost everywhere and could introduce elain, who wishes to see more of the world (see: “elain had always wanted to visit the continent to study the tulips and other famed flowers”), to the different courts and the continent. I refuse to accept that we will not get to learn more about the other courts, for my sake, but also for elain’s sake. I want her to see the spring court at least once. I want her to go and see those tulips she’s dreamt of. I want her and lucien to discover the day court as a new home, which brings me to the next point.

elain has been craving sunshine for some time now. there’s several quotes that emphasise her connection to sunshine/light, here are a few of my favourites:

I marveled at it, actually — that those years of poverty hadn‘t stripped away that light from elain.

the suite was filled with sunlight. every curtain shoved back as far as it could go, to let in as much sun as possible. as if any bit of darkness was abhorrent.

she had been always so full of light. perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. to fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. and now nothing remained.

what can I get you, elain? — sunshine.

elain doesn’t belong into the night court. feyre has found her family there, with rhys and the inner circle. nesta has found (or should I say accepted) cassian and found gwyn and emerie, her chosen sisters. but elain?

elain is somewhere in the background hiding with the twins and tending to gardens of the citizens of velaris. you can’t tell me that is satisfactory to you. she is currently ignoring her seer abilities, and the members of the inner circle are basically encouraging her to do so. the only time she’s been confronted lately was during that conversation with nesta and her reaction was not exactly what any of us readers would have expected, was it? that tells me there’s much more about her we don’t know yet, and I’m convinced we won’t know until she finally leaves and finds her own people, finds herself again and start dealing with everything that happened to her. elain must leave the night court, i.e. the darkness, behind in order to grow.

the same goes to lucien: he’s not at a place where he can just jump into a relationship or mating bond. he’s got so much stuff going on. lucien was forced to abandon his home and his abusive family, his “father” killed the fae he loved in front of his eyes, his best friend is an abusive pos who never appreciated him anyway, and neither has anyone in the night court. lucien is used because of his connections and because of the mating bond that ties him to elain, whether he wanted it or not. feyre knows he would never turn away from elain unless she explicitly wishes him to, and so she and rhys and the others use that to their advantage. it is smart, of course, but at the same time, they also keep important information about his own life from him that could change many, many things. so he’s spending his time with mortals in the human lands — a place where he as a fae really does not belong.

lucien being the heir to the day court, well, to me, it feels like sjm is practically screaming it into our face: how could he find a home in the night court, the literal opposite to the day? darkness vs. light. and what about elain “he’d never once in the two years he’d known her found elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … it sucked the life from her” archeron? just looking at the symbolism, not only do the quotes from above indicate that the night court cannot possibly be her home, but also very recent quotes from the latest book. elain is a side character in the night court. and so is lucien. they both need to leave in order to become main characters — and it doesn’t even matter that both are already crucial to the further plot of the series because how can they possibly contribute to it in a place where they are both kept down?

mor said in acofas: “stay out of it. she’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” and “let him figure out where he wants to be. who he wants to be. the same goes with her.” mor’s power is “truth”, whatever that means. but there you have it. they’re not ready to be with each other yet, and that’s okay.

[elain and lucien are also connected not only because of the mating bond, but also because of the plot. lucien must know quite a lot about her and her sisters simply because of all the time he spent with their father. the father who made a bargain with koschei. koschei who put a spell on vassa. lucien is therefore tied to both papa archeron as well as koschei and vassa. elain, we know, is a seer, despite her not using her abilities (or is she, and we simply don’t know?). elain is (obviously) connected to her father, but also to koschei and vassa (remember those visions she had).]

now let’s get to the mating bond stuff, and I need to say this loud and clear: elain has always had and will always have one (1) true mate. there’s no such thing as “false mate” or even multiple mates. there has been no indication whatsoever. lucien is the mate the cauldron had given her when she was born. and elain is the mate the cauldron had given him when he was born. even when she was still human, they already belonged together — tied together by strings of fate. absolutely nothing will change this fact. should elain reject the bond, lucien will remain a part of her life/her soul forever. should lucien reject the bond, elain will remain a part of his life/his soul forever.

when she was still human, lucien had already felt a pull between them and tried to save and protect her from hybern. when elain was already fae, when it came to protecting her, azriel clapped cassian’s shoulder and left (is this the true mate they’re all talking about?). it’s unfair to lucien, elain, AND azriel and this comparison alone is enough to disprove this theory.

the thing is, lucien has been nothing but respectful, kind and caring towards elain. when he arrived in velaris in acowar, he could immediately sense what she needed and said, “she needs fresh air” (vs. the response “we’ll judge what she needs”) and “take her to the sea. take her to some garden. but get her out of this house for an hour or two.” (I’m gonna make another post about this because I have a few thoughts on this)

of course, she doesn’t owe him anything, but elain herself doesn’t wish to be treated like a child, she maybe she should start acting like an adult because although she doesn’t owe lucien an apology or explanation, she has to have a conversation with him, like two responsible adults. there is no way feyre or anyone in the inner circle hasn’t told her that she can reject the bond and move on with her life. but just like her powers, this is another thing she chooses to ignore. I’m not blaming her because I know she has to work through her trauma first and heal, but by the end of the series, she has to acknowledge that at least.

in acosf, elain says “I am not a child to be fought over” when they discuss the dread trove. I wonder what she would say about the fact azriel threatens to challenge lucien to the blood duel because of her? based on literally everything we know about lucien, I can say with certainty that he would not physically fight over elain. if she only had a conversation with him and told him to move on and leave her alone, lucien would do just that. he would leave her alone and try to move on as best as he could (which we know is difficult for males). but he would never act as entitled to her as to demand a blood duel and fight to death. it goes against his principles.

to finish this off, sjm summing up everything I just said:

#elucien #mating bond #mp

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nineteenninety-six · 4 years ago

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It’s What We Make It

Just a warning, this is technically based in S2 but at the same time it’s not. It contains scenes from seasons I like but it doesn’t follow the show’s timeline. Also, a lot of time skips because I’m lazy.

This took me two weeks to write and though I wish it could be better, I’m done with it. It was meant to be a request fulfil but it’s so far gone from that lol. Also this better appear in the bloody tags otherwise I’ll fight someone

Word Count: 14,827

The night (Y/N) escaped from her family's home would be a night she would never forget.

She disappeared in the middle of the night and triggered the plan she had spent almost a year planning. Due to what her family did for a living, she worked alone in case she got caught.

Her family had enough money to the point where they wouldn't notice a small amount going missing, which is exactly what she did. She took enough to ensure she left the country quickly and safely. She also stashed a few jewels and other expensive items to sell once she reached her destination.

She planned to go to England. She didn’t know where in England she would go but England was far away enough from her home country that she should be able to live comfortably and without fear.

(Y/N) didn’t know what her family would think about her disappearance, maybe they’d think that a rival gang had kidnapped her, but she knew that they wouldn’t let it simply go and they would send people to look for her.

.•° ✿ °•.

Once (Y/N) arrived in England, she took a random train to Birmingham and then another to Small Heath. She had no clue where she was going or what these places were like but she did not let that stop her and if it was not the place for her, then she would move on.

When she arrived it was late in the day but the streets were not quiet and (Y/N) could see a pub at the end of the street that was filled with people to the point that people spilled out onto the street outside and the faint sound of people talking and singing spilled out alongside them.

(Y/N) gave the pub one last glance before she made her way into the small hotel and paid for a room. She would spend a few days at the hotel and discovering the place before she decided if Small Heath was a place where she was to stay long term.

(Y/N) garnered a few stares of curiosity as she walked around Small Heath which wasn’t surprising since she was clearly an outsider. The town was clearly one that wasn’t used to new people but they seemed merely curious at best.

She wandered around the main road where all the shops rested, making mental notes of them and she passed by the pub that was alive with people the night before stopped by a small cafe for lunch. The sweet owner easily answered any questions she had, seemingly not having an issue with the fact that she wasn’t from around there and even though she had only been in Small Heath for less than two days, (Y/N) was pretty sure this was the place she wanted to stay.

She asked the cafe owner about any job openings in town and was informed of the Garrison, the pub she saw earlier, was looking for a barmaid.

(Y/N) had never worked a day in her life but she wouldn’t be able to survive for long on the money she got from selling the stuff she had brought with her. She didn’t have the skills or the experience to become a barmaid or for any job for that matter, as she never had a reason to. Her family had drilled into her at a young age that once she was old enough, she would be married to another gang family. Either as a gift to thank a family that had been long loyal or to a rival to calm rising tensions and to gain allies.

She had been coddled for her entire life. Her parents gave her the best tutors in the country but she had barely left their manor at all through her childhood, which gave no social skills or friends but that was all about to change.

When she entered the pub, there was only one man in there and he was sweeping the floor but he looked up when she walked in.

“I heard that you were looking for a barmaid?” (Y/N) spoke first, when the man did not.

The man looked her up and down with a disbelieving stare, “You? A barmaid? Don’t make me laugh”

“Please,” (Y/N) took a step forward, “I’m desperate”

“Look, the people around here aren’t nice. Especially when they are drunk. You just look a bit too delicate to work here”

“I can hold my own”

She could. It wasn’t uncommon for her father to hold parties or dinners where he and his allies would drink until the sun rose and he’d always make her stay the entire night, most likely to show off how dutiful she was. After all, the men in that type of business weren’t looking for a headstrong and independent woman, they’re looking for a meek woman that would obey their instructions and carry their children to continue the family name and (Y/N) wasn’t that type of woman.

The man still didn’t look like he believed her but he must have seen the desperation in her eyes as he let out a resigned sigh, “Trial run tonight. If you do well, you get the job.”

(Y/N) bobs her head with a pleased smile, “Thank you.”

“Harry” The man held out his hand.

(Y/N) shook it, giving him her name.

“Seven pm on the dot tonight.”

“Thank you, Harry, I’ll be there”

.•° ✿ °•.

At seven pm, the pub only had a few customers but she dealt with those easily. Harry had taught her how to pour a pint and create a few other drinks and luckily for her, the people of Small Heath were simple when it came to their drinks.

By nine pm, the Garrison was filled to the brim with people. A portion of the pub was loudly singing along to the song that the woman at the piano was playing and the rest of the patrons were talking with their friends, almost shouting to be heard above the singing.

The atmosphere was unlike anything (Y/N) had ever experienced before but she found herself enjoying it. She didn’t think she stopped moving for a moment as she spun around the bar, fulfilling orders until a small window at the corner of the bar, something she hadn’t noticed until that moment had opened up, causing her to pause in her steps. It was more out of surprise than anything else at first but the man at the other side of the window with his bright blue eyes had also caught her attention.

With Harry busy, (Y/N) made her way to the small window, “...May I help you?”

The man’s eyes flickered up to her and he seemed speechless for a moment before he orders, “Two bottles of dark rum and four glasses”

(Y/N) nods and turns around only to smack straight into Harry’s chest.

“I’ll get that for you, Tommy. (Y/N) there are some people down at the end who want some ale”

(Y/N) looks up at Harry, confused on why he suddenly butt in and took over the order but just as she was going to silently nod and do as she was told but ‘Tommy’, spoke up before she could.

“Let her do it, Harry. She looks perfectly capable”

Harry looked like he would argue, but he quickly nodded and allowed (Y/N) to get the drinks but he quickly followed behind her.

“Anything that he or the other members of the Shelby family is free of charge.”

(Y/N) frowned and turned to ask him why but he had already disappeared to fulfil the orders of the other patrons.

She picked up the two bottles of rum and placed them by the window before she went off to collect the glasses.

“Harry says everything is on the house,” She says as he places the glasses down next to the bottles of rum, hoping that he could explain why.

“Hmm,” The man simply hummed as he picked up the drinks and placed them on the table in the snug behind him.

He turned around but stopped midway before he turned back to face her, looking at her up and down. “You’re not from around here”

“What gave it away?” (Y/N) responded sarcastically, knowing that her accent stood out.

“What’s your name?” Tommy’s interest had been piqued and he leant forward on the bartop

“What’s yours?” (YN) threw back.

Tommy squinted his eyes and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. She had been raised amongst egotistical and big-headed men and she knew how to deal with them.

“Tommy Shelby”

“(Y/N)”

“I’ll see you again, (Y/N)”

“I’ll make sure of it, Mr Shelby”

Tommy gave her one last nod before he disappeared into the snug and closed the window doors behind him.

(Y/N) was swept up with the rest of the customers the rest of the night and only got a break when they had closed up for the night and she was cleaning up.

“Listen, (Y/N), it’s best if you try to keep away from the Shelby’s.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just promise me that you’ll stay away from them?”

“Only if I have the job”

Harry was silent for a moment before he sighed and nodded “Alright, you have the job. You did good tonight anyway.”

“Thank you, Harry”

(Y/N) had spent the rest of the night looking at places to rent in the newspaper, marking down which one suited her needs, making notes to call the landlords in the morning. With a secure job, she could now start to settle down in Small Heath.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) found a small flat that was perfect for her, she had paid a deposit and the first month of rent before moving herself and her singular suitcase into her new place. It was the opposite of what she grew up with but she found that it didn’t affect her as much as she thought it would. Her old bedroom was at least four times as big as her dingy little flat but she found the little room appropriate enough and she was determined to perservere and not give up.

Once she had finished settling in, she took another walk around Small Heath before she had to go in to work that evening.

She had found herself by the cut and she stood right by the edge with the tips of her shoes just over the edge as she thought about her life. She knew it wouldn’t be long before her family somehow narrow where she had run off too, no doubt they had already sent men to America, Australia and England already but she hoped that Small Heath was a small enough place that she’d have at least a few years before she had to move on.

“Hullo”

(Y/N) swung around, not hearing whoever it was come up behind her but her momentum had caused her to trip over her feet and fall backwards, falling into the canal with a loud splash. Her thick coat and her shoes had weighed her down as she struggled to resurface.

Tommy raced over to the edge and kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his coat and cap before he dived in after her. He swam down until he could see her and reached out and grabbed her arm before he started to swim to the surface, pulling her along.

When they both reached the surface, they gasped for air and (Y/N) coughed and sputtered out the water that she had accidentally swallowed. Tommy swam to edge, still tugging her along before he pulled himself out of the water before helping her out.

(Y/N) coughed a few more times before falling back so that she was flat on her back as she stared up at the sky.

Tommy walked over to her and looked down at her, “You alright?”

(Y/N) glared at him as she took his offered hand and stood up, “Do you creep up behind every woman you know?”

“Only the ones that fascinate me”

His words caused (Y/N)’s glare to falter, “I suppose I should feel flattered then ?”

Tommy ignored her question as he turned on his heel and began to walk away before he called out to her over his shoulder, “C’mon, follow me”

(Y/N) grimaced as she moved to follow after him, her stocking covered feet squelched in her heels as she walked behind him. The rest of her clothes clung to her uncomfortably and her hair stuck to her face and neck.

She didn’t know where Tommy was going and she didn’t exactly know why she was following him either but she supposed he fascinated her as she did him.

He took her to Watery Lane and into one of the houses, and she still squeaked uncomfortably behind him as she followed him into the kitchen.

“Sit”

Tommy pointed to a random seat before he shuffled around the kitchen putting a full kettle on the stovetop and letting it boil while (Y/N) sat down as he instructed.

(Y/N) looked at the kitchen around her in curiosity. The walls had been knocked down to let it be more open and just to the side of her there was a large green double door which she guessed led to the property next door but she had no clue why. She could hear the faint sounds of people talking through it but it was too muffled to hear anything clearly.

Just as she snapped out of her mind, Tommy had placed a cup down in front of her.

(Y/N) looked down at the cup in curiosity, “What’s this?”

Tommy sat down on the other side of the table, across from her with his own cup.

“Tea. To warm you up”

“What type of ‘tea’?” (Y/N) asked, “Anyway, I think getting out of my wet clothes will help more than a cup of hot..tea”

“Tea, tea. Have you never seen tea before?”

“I have never heard the word tea before. In my native language, we call this something else.” (Y/N) carelessly reveals, “Are you meant to drink it straight”

Tommy files away her first sentence away in his mind, making a mental note to find out where she was from before he leant across the table and pulled the teacup closer to him.

“You can if you want. Most add milk and sugar”

“How much-” (Y/N) asked, “How do you do yours?”

“Splash of milk, two teaspoons of sugar”

(Y/N) nods, “Okay, I’ll try it the way you like.”

Tommy nodded and did the tea for her. Never at all did he think that he would be making a cup of tea for a woman the second time he had ever met her but he supposed he did feel a little guilty for her falling into the cut and almost drowning.

(Y/N) took a sip and let a pleased hum, “This is...nice.”

“You like it?”

“Yes, I enjoy your...tea”

Tommy’s lip quirked at her words but the smile that nearly graces his lips quickly vanishes when Polly walks through the green doors,

“Thomas, have you-oh” Polly freezes in her steps at the sight of the stranger sitting at the table.

“Polly,” Tommy cleared his throat as he stood up, “This is (Y/N), the new barmaid at the Garrison”

(Y/N) stood up and shook the hand of Polly and tried not the feel exposed as the woman raked her eyes across her.

“Why are the two of you wet?”

“I fell into the cut and Tommy helped me” (Y/N) quickly spoke before Tommy could speak.

Polly looked at Tommy as if she couldn’t believe what (Y/N) was saying was true. (Y/N) finished off her cup of tea before he cleared her throat, catching their attention, “Thank you for the tea, Tommy but it’s probably best I get home. Staying in wet clothes will only make me sick”

Tommy nodded and seemed perfectly fine with just walking her to the door but Polly spoke up for him, “Tommy walk her home”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue but the look Tommy sent her told her that it was better to not argue.

They walked back to her flat in silence and it made (Y/N) realise how weird her day was. In what was meant to be a normal day exploring, ended up with her almost dying and then being treated with a cup of tea by a man whose mere presence prompted question marks.

.•° ✿ °•.

That evening (Y/N) was back at the Garrison, pulling pints and serving customers. It was never not busy and (Y/N) wondered how she didn’t end up with a headache every night but she enjoyed the work.

When the pub quietened suddenly, it caused (Y/N) to look up from her work and she saw Tommy, Polly along with three other men who she had never seen before entering. Polly and the men entered the little snug whilst Tommy made his way up to the bar and with Harry overwhelmed, (Y/N) made her way over to him after she finished with her current customer.

“How may I help you, Mr Shelby?” She asked as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Bucket of mild and four mugs and one whiskey”

(Y/N) nodded and went to go fulfil his order when Harry called out to her,

“We’re out of the mild! I’m gonna go get a new barrel.”

(Y/N) turned around and gave Tommy a sorry smile, “I’ll bring it to you when Harry’s done”

Tommy gave her a nod before he disappeared in the snug. (Y/N) watched him for a moment before she turned to the next patron with a kind smile.

.•° ✿ °•.

Tommy joined his family in the snug and sat in his usual seat, paying half attention to the conversation around until it suddenly turned to him.

“Oi, Tom, who’s the new barmaid?” John asked, “And where are our fucking drinks?”

“A new hire by Harry” Tommy said as he lit up a cigarette, “Needed a new barrel, it’ll be here soon.”

Just then (Y/N) walked into the snug, bucket and mugs in hand.

“Sorry for the wait,” She said as she placed them on the table and quickly disappeared back out of the snug.

Once she left, John and Arthur let out low whistles.

“She’s a looker ain’t she” John commented

Polly rolled her eyes at her nephew’s behaviour while Michael noticed something else about the woman.

“Where is she from? Her accent is not from England”

Tommy shrugged, “Haven’t a clue”

Polly raised an eyebrow, “You don’t know? Usually, you’d know everything about her, especially since she works at the pub”

Tommy ignored her for a moment as he began to scoop up a mug of ale, his brothers following suit before he answered her.

“There’s something she’s hiding and I don’t think any call I make will clue me into it”

.•° ✿ °•.

That night as (Y/N) and Harry closed up, (Y/N) finally asked Harry about something that had been itching her about Tommy Shelby.

“Harry, when you warned me about Mr Shelby, what did you mean? What do the Shelby’s do?”

Harry sighed as he dropped his rag down on the bar, “They’re bad men. They’re a gang, they fix races, kill people, blackmail, threaten, you know all of it. If they want it, they get it.”

(Y/N) settled in silence at his words, her mind racing. Did she just escape from the gang at home just to run into a new gang? Was her luck that shitty?

She remained silent for the rest of the night but vowed that she’d try her best to avoid Tommy Shelby.

.•° ✿ °•.

Avoiding Tommy was easier said than done, he was somehow everywhere yet at the same time it was like he was a ghost. Whenever she saw him on the streets of Small Heath, she ducked into the many side streets and alleyways of the town. Whenever he entered the Garrison, she took his order swiftly and avoided eye contact.

Tommy had noticed her behaviour.

A few weeks later he found her once again by the cut but this time she was sitting on the edge with her feet hanging over the edge. Tommy walked over to her but didn’t sit down next to her.

“You’ve been hiding from me”

(Y/N) didn’t even look up at him when she replied, “Have I? It seems that you’ve found me”

“Why?”

“Why do you care?”

Tommy hummed, “I suppose I don’t. Not really.”

“But you do though, don’t you? You care”

“I do”

“Why?”

“You fascinate me.”

“...I’ve heard about the things you do Tommy.” (Y/N) decided to tell him why she had been avoiding him.

“Yeah?” Tommy asked as he took a seat next to her, knowing that this wasn’t going to be a short conversation.

“I do...I do not understand why”

“Growing up around here you have to know how to fight otherwise you won't survive. You have to adapt and grow. Fixing races or scamming the rich to get some money was the only way that we were able to feed our family at times.” Tommy offered her a cigarette which she accepted. “After the war, whilst we were at war, fighting for our lives and country, the men at the top simply sat at home and continued getting richer.”

(Y/N) had a frown on her face as she took a couple of drags of her cigarette, “But you murder people?”

“I’ve killed a few people”

“And that doesn’t affect you?”

“In the war, I killed about a hundred men who were just following orders like me. I used to beat myself up about taking a life but now, killing the people who profited off the war in some fashion barely gets me to blink”

“...So you only target the rich?”

Tommy nods, “You ask anyone and they’d probably say that we’re a pain in the arse but we’re their pain in the arse. We pump the money back through the town, making sure everyone has jobs and that they can support their families”

(Y/N)’s heart eased at his clarification.

“My fa-” (Y/N) cut herself off realising that she was about to spill too much information about herself, “Back home, the gangs there targeted everybody. The poorer people suffered the most since they couldn’t pay ransoms or blackmail...every week a body would be discovered. Politicians and the most powerful men in the country were being controlled by these gangs, being played like marionettes. Not to mention the constant wars between rival gangs…”

(Y/N) hadn’t spoken about how life was back home and it felt good to finally speak to someone about it. She knew she had it good considering she rarely left the family manor and had anything and everything she could have asked for and nothing that her family did had negatively affected her in any way.

“Is that why you left your country?”

(Y/N) nodded, “I was scared that I left one gang and fell into the grasp of another”

Tommy took one last drag of his cigarette before he chucked it in the cut and (Y/N) followed suit.

Tommy took her chin in his hands and pulled her face so that she was facing him, “You won’t be hurt here. You’re safe”

(Y/N)’s placed her hand over his that was still on her face but she didn’t try to remove it, “I’m am not safe, they will find me”

“Who will?”

(Y/N) gave him a soft smile as she finally pulled his hand away, “Never you mind. I’ve already said too much”

(Y/N) stood up and brushed off the dust and dirt from her before she offered him her hand, “Walk me to work?”

Tommy grabbed her hand and pulled himself up, “Of course”

The walk back was silent but (Y/N) felt at ease now that she knew the truth behind Tommy and the gang’s motives.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) no longer hid whenever she saw Tommy in the streets but instead gave him smiles. He wouldn’t always return them but (Y/N) felt a warmth bloom in her chest whenever he gave her a nod or a tiny smile in answer.

One day, in the early afternoon, Tommy and his brother, Arthur had entered the Garrison, so she went over to take their order.

“What can I get you two?”

“Go get Harry for us”

(Y/N) got Harry and moved further down the bar but still close enough to listen to their conversation.

“What can I get you, boys?”

“Harry,” Tommy gave him a smile that wasn’t sincere in the slightest, “We want to buy your pub”

(Y/N)’s mouth dropped and so did Harry’s.

“Uhhh, it’s not for sale I’m afraid”

“It wasn’t a request, Harry.”

Harry instantly deflated as he knew he couldn’t exactly say no to the Peaky Blinders unless he wanted his eyes cut.

“Alri-”

“You can’t just do that!” (Y/N) stepped in, throwing Tommy a glare, “Harry said it wasn’t for sale, that’s your answer and you should accept it”

“Harry was just about to agree-”

“Through coercion” Once again, (Y/N) cut in.

Harry’s eyes were wide as he tugged on (Y/N)’s arm, telling her to stop but she didn’t listen.

“I didn’t make any threats. Did you hear me make a threat, Arthur?”

“Nah, I didn’t hear you make any threats brother” Arthur backed his brother up

“The implication was there. ‘Do as I ask or get your eyes cut’.”

Harry pulled on her arm again but (Y/N) shrugged him off.

Tommy sighed, he patience wearing thin, “Listen, we’re just offering a considerable amount to buy the pub, nothing more”

“Since you have so much money, build a bloody pub yourselves, or better yet shove it up your-”

Harry finally pulled her hard enough that she had to move unless she wanted to fall flat on her face,

“(Y/N) go in the back. I’ll deal with it.” Harry pushed her away, “Go”

(Y/N) threw one last glare over her shoulder before she disappeared in the back. She paced around in Harry’s office waiting for him, she knew that he’d more than likely accept the Shelby’s offer but a part of her hoped that he didn’t.

When he returned there was a roll of money in his hand which caused (Y/N) to release a frustrated sigh.

“I don’t want to end up in the cut” Harry tried to explain

“I know, I know. I’m not blaming you, I’m just annoyed at those Shelby men.”

“Listen, I know your stubborn but don’t go creating fights with those men”

“I can’t promise you anything” (Y/N) walked towards the exit, “I’ll go back to the bar”

(Y/N) was in such a bad mood for the rest of the day that the patrons simply made an order and then quickly scurry off once they got their drink, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her if they’d pushed her.

She was still in a mood once she had finished for the day and stormed home but once she collapsed on her bed, she felt a bit of tension drain out of her shoulders.

Despite how much she wanted to stay in bed, she knew couldn’t do it with the day's clothing still on her. She kicked her shoes off in the corner of her flat and chucked her coat on the small couch before pouring herself a glass of whiskey.

She sipped on the whiskey as she wiped down her face with a damp cloth and changed into her nightdress before taking a seat near the window with the rest of her drink, the bottle next to her on the side table. Usually, she read a bit before she slept but it was raining that night and the sound of it hitting the window always calmed her, so she simply looked out of the window, watching the last few stragglers of Small Heath wander through the streets.

She had been at peace before loud knocking disrupted her and she huffed as she made her way over to her door, only opening it enough to fit her head through.

“What do you want?” Tommy was on the other side.

“I’m here to talk”

“It’s late. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I want to talk now” Tommy pushed the door open and forced himself into her flat.

“Thomas! You can’t just force yourself into my flat” (Y/N) hissed at him as she closed the door behind him knowing she wouldn’t be able to physically remove him at this point.

Tommy looked around the flat checking it out as she took off his coat and hat, throwing next to where (Y/N) left hers.

“Nice little place you got here”

“Why are you really here Tommy?”

Tommy turned around and raised an eyebrow when he saw what she was wearing causing (Y/N) to wrap her arms around her chest as she hurried to her dressing gown and putting it on.

“What do you want?” (Y/N) repeated herself, “If this is about earlier, then I refuse to speak about it”

“It is about today and you will speak about it”

“Well if you truly want to speak then let it be known that, I will not sit around and let you bully people into doing what you want”

“That’s how it works around here”

“That’s how you force it to work around here. People would rather say yes than end up blind or floating in the cut” (Y/N) corrected him.

She took a deep breath before she topped off her drink and offered him one, “Whiskey?”

“Please”

She gave him a glass before shifting the coats that rested on the couch onto the coat rack and then taking a seat on the now free couch and Tommy soon joined her.

“You say you’re not like the people back home but your actions today say different” (Y/N) took a sip of her drink, “You keep going down this lane and you’ll be like my….”

Tommy turned to her, “Like your who?”

“Never mind.” (Y/N) shook her head, “You’ve never been told ‘no’ in your life have you?”

“I have. Polly tells me about five times every day”

“I don’t mean by your family. You’ve never been told by a woman or by anyone in Small Heath like Harry, have you?”

Tommy shrugged his shoulders, “No, I don’t think so”

“Luckily for you, I’m here to humble you”

“Luckily?”

“Luckily.”

Tommy placed his hand on her thigh which caused her to raise an eyebrow at him but she didn’t say nor do anything.

“I know nothing about you,” Tommy told her

“I could say the same thing about you”

“You know things about me. You know my family and my past.”

(Y/N) snorted, “That’s a bit of a stretch. I know that you fought in the war, that’s it”

“That’s more than I know about you.”

“Okay” (Y/N) holds up two fingers, “You get to know one thing about my past and one about my family”

Tommy sipped his drink as he thought about which questions he would ask her.

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Four older brothers”

“You’re alike our Ada”

(Y/N) had never met the Shelby lady but judging by the little bits she heard from the brothers, it seemed like she, other than their aunt, was one of the only people who could tell Tommy to ‘shut up’ or ‘fuck off’ without consequence.

“In more ways than you may realise”

“Where are you from?”

“Ah!” (Y/N) held up her hand, “I won’t answer that”

“Why not?” Tommy fiddled with the edge of her dressing gown, his hand shifting higher up her thigh

“Because I said so, now, new question”

“How was your life back home?”

“Easy. I never had to worry about if there would be food on the table at the end of the day but I was restricted.”

“How?”

“I was not allowed to leave my house nor have friends, my life was lonely.”

“Was you sick as a child?”

“No. I was a vulnerability” (Y/N) downed the rest of her drink before turning to Tommy, “I’ve said too much. That was more than one thing you pulled from me”

“I’ll make it up”

“I hope so”

(Y/N) bit her lip as she thought something through as the flat dissolved into silence.

“Are you going to sleep with me or are you going to continue to play with my dressing gown?”

“Are you going to say no?”

“I won’t be tonight”

“Good”

With that, Tommy swooped down and pulled her into a kiss, one that she eagerly returned. They kissed until they pulled apart needing air and Tommy pulled her onto his lap,

“You sure?”

“Yes”

(Y/N) pulled him into another kiss as Tommy lifted her into his arms as he pushed himself onto his feet and made his way over to her bed where he promptly dropped her though he quickly followed suit.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) mindlessly trailed her fingers across Tommy’s ribs as they laid together underneath her blanket. Tommy was sat up against the headboard as he smoked a cigarette while (Y/N) was curled into his side.

“Next week, I’ll take you down to London,” Tommy announced, breaking the silence.

(Y/N) snorted, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“I don’t do dates.”

“Hmm, I suppose you don’t have to wine and dine them. Somehow your charm does the work”

“‘Somehow’?”

“You’re a miserable bastard Tommy” (Y/N) looked up at him and gave him a smirk

“Next week then?” Tommy ignored her jab

“Yeah, I’ll talk to Harry and get a day off”

“You don’t have to ask Harry. We own the bloody pub, take as many days off you want”

“You may own it but I do not work for you, I work for Harry” (Y/N) looked up and glared at Tommy, before rolling to the other side of the bed and wrapping the blankets around her shoulder, “Anyway, I’m going to sleep now. Stay or leave, I don’t mind.”

Not realising how tired she was, (Y/N) almost immediately fell asleep and Tommy stared at her sleep form.

He was enamoured with her, her mysterious life aside, he looked forward to every time they would meet and he enjoyed her fiery attitude towards him but he was confused as to what he wanted their relationship to be like. He didn’t date but he wanted something more than a purely sexual dynamic but he didn’t know what she wanted either. He could speak to her but that was outside of his comfort zone.

Tommy did not leave but he did not sleep, he continued to sit and smoke through the rest of his pack as he watched the sky turn light and the sun rose before he finally left.

.•° ✿ °•.

The next week, Tommy had picked (Y/N) up and together they drove down to London. She had dressed up a bit but nothing in something that would be overdoing it but she had noticed Tommy run his eyes over her appreciatively, something that she enjoyed.

“You know, I’ve never been to London” (Y/N) said as she watched the scenery go.

“Never?”

“No. When I arrived in the country, I came straight to Birmingham on a train and that was that”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it”

(Y/N) smiled at him, “Me too”

(Y/N) filled the rest of the journey with questions, not just about London but about Birmingham and Small Heath as well.

When they arrived in London, (Y/N) got swept up in all of it. She enjoyed the bright lights and people filled the street. It was unlike anything she’s ever experienced and she loved it.

Tommy took her to go see a play, and as she watched the actors perform, (Y/N) thought she should make a list of things that Tommy was introducing her to because she was quickly running out of fingers to count on.

After dinner, Tommy took her to a bridge that crossed the River Thames and they talked as they looked over the barrier, like they did by the cut in Small Heath.

“Tonight was great, thank you, Tommy”

Tommy took a step closer to her and took her hand in his, “Look, I don’t know what the future entails or what I exactly want between us but I do want you next to me”

“I’ve never heard of that position before” (Y/N) curled her fingers around his, “I’m not your partner, your fiance, your wife but…”

“You are my person”

“...Your person”

As Tommy leant forward to kiss her, (Y/N) suddenly snapped back, her head swivelling around.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

(Y/N) threw one last look over her shoulder before turning to him with a smile that he was starting to recognise as one she used as a distraction and a cover-up. It worked on him before and he has seen it being used against various members of Small Heath, who, once seeing that smile, had followed her conversation change though (Y/N) also had no problem using her sharp tongue if anyone crossed any lines.

.•° ✿ °•.

Just as Tommy leant down towards her, (Y/N) heard people speaking the language of her home country causing her to pull away from him. She strained to hear what was being said but the voices were quickly drowned by the chatter of over people on the bridge along with the cars that sped around them.

She looked around trying to see if she recognised anyone but yet again, the bridge was so busy, it was impossible for her. (Y/N) mentally cursed at herself, she was foolish to let her barriers remain down whilst they were in London, as it was more likely her father had men there and if she had been spotted, she wouldn’t know until it was too late.

When Tommy called for her attention she turned to him with a smile after one last look over her shoulder. While she couldn’t see anyone, she would be on edge for a while.

“So, did you book a hotel room or are we driving back tonight?”

Tommy stood back and offered her his arm, “To the hotel it is”

.•° ✿ °•.

A month after the trip to London, (Y/N) and Tommy were going steady, if that was an appropriate word for their dynamic. They saw each other on a regular business but he hadn’t taken her on a date anywhere as extravagant as the one to London but (Y/N) enjoyed the nights in her flat where they would just drink and talk.

She was less on edge now she was back in Small Heath and nothing had happened to her but she remained vigilant but her new life relatively undisturbed changed that evening.

She had been working at the pub as usual when she felt eyes on her, it was unusual that when a patron got drunk that they would stare at her but they would usually look away once a prostitute or a friend got their attention but this man was different.

She took quick glances at him as she worked and not once did this man's gaze falter, he had been nursing the same drink he had first ordered and his eyes were clear of any drunkness. (Y/N) knew something was up with him.

Not wanting to be defenceless, (Y/N) went out to the back of the pub and picked up one of the loose bricks that were laying around and put it in her handbag before she returned to the bar, hoping that the man assumed she only took a toilet break.

Once her shift ended, (Y/N) left Harry to close up and started her way home. The man had left with the other patrons when the pub was closed but (Y/N) knew the man was waiting in the shadows for her.

As she walked back to her flat, she heard his footsteps behind her and her heart raced. If her plan went wrong then she would either be brought back home or dead and out of two, she preferred death.

She sped up and turned into the upcoming alleyway as she took her handbag off of her shoulders and grasped it tightly in her hands and when the man turned into the alleyway, she swung her bag at his head and watched as it successfully connected, causing the man to collapse at her feet.

She paused waiting to see if he stirred but the man was knocked out. (Y/N) dropped to her knees before she searched the body, looking for a gun or any sort of weapon but when she heard hurried footsteps heading her way she froze before she pulled the brick out of her purse and held it aloft, ready to throw it whoever to turned the corner, fearing that the man had an accomplice that she didn’t see.

.•° ✿ °•.

On his way home from his office, Tommy had spotted (Y/N) on her way home from work but just as he was about to call her name and get her attention, he noticed the man following her.

He snapped his mouth shut but silently followed after the man but when he and (Y/N) disappeared in an alleyway, he ran after them, pulling his gun out of his holster as he did so.

He rounded into the alleyway, gun drawn and ready to shoot but froze at the scene he ran into. The man who had been following (Y/N) was unconscious on the floor and (Y/N) was crouched over him, brick in hand ready to throw.

Tommy let his arm drop to his side, “What the fuck is going on?”

(Y/N) who sighed in relief at the sight of him, threw the brick to the side and continued to search through his pockets like she was doing before Tommy interrupted.

“You have a place where we can drag him, yes?” (Y/N) asked as he pulled out a gun from one of his pockets

“(Y/N)! What the fuck is happening?”

“Yes or no, Thomas!” (Y/N) snapped, “I will tell you but only if you fucking help me”

Tommy tucked his gun back in his holster before he made his way over to the man and hooked his arms underneath his armpits and began dragging him towards one of the many empty buildings in Small Heath.

“Follow me”

(Y/N) quickly snatched up her purse and followed after him but she was constantly checking over her shoulder to see if anyone was following them but once they arrived at the building, most of the tension dropped out of her shoulders.

Once Tommy dropped the man in the middle of the room he turned on his heel and pointed a finger at her, “Right, tell me what the fuck is happening.”

(Y/N) tugged off her scarf and went over to the man and began tying his ankles together,

“You know I haven’t told you anything about my past” (Y/N) grunted as she pulled the knots tight, “Give me your tie”

“You’ve told me a little,” Tommy said as he tugged off his tie before he gave it to her.

As (Y/N) began tying his wrists together, she began to tell Tommy about her life.

“What I told about how gangs run the country wasn’t a lie. Life there is hell for the common people, death is better than living there. But…”

“You left out something…”

(Y/N) sighed as she turned to Tommy, “My family is the biggest criminal organisation in the country. They have politicians and royalty in their pockets. Honestly? It makes your little gang here seem like a joke in comparison”

“...So you ran away from home?”

(Y/N) glared at him, “It was not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me then”

(Y/N) made her way over to him and took a seat on the floor, “I couldn’t get anyone to help me because if we got caught they’d be killed and I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Also, they’re a liability. I had to steal some money and other items from my family so that I could sell them and I had only planned as far as getting out of my country. Everything after that was a spur of the moment decision.”

“Your life was good, why run?”

“It wasn’t ‘good’, it was easy. Besides I was the only daughter and my father would sell me to the highest bidder or to whoever he had been beefing with as a gift”

“Your brothers have no issue with that?”

“They’re men, so they’re more valuable” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and put quotation marks around the word valuable, “They’re all just like my father.”

“Your mother”

“A weak woman. Sold to my dad like how my dad would sell me off. Are you going to ask me about my uncles next?”

This time Tommy rolled his eyes but he took a seat next to her, “So, who is this man?”

“No clue” (Y/N) shrugged, “I’m guessing one of my father’s men or you know, one of the men of my father’s men”

“What do you plan on doing with him?” Tommy asked as he pulled out a couple of cigarettes and lit them, giving on to (Y/N), which she gratefully accepted.

“It depends on what information he knows and what he has shared, but I’ll probably have to kill him”

“Have you ever killed someone before?”

“Nope” (Y/N) sent Tommy a grin, “But you have”

.•° ✿ °•.

The man awoke with a sputtered cough before squirmed on the floor, trying to get up until he realised he had been tied up. He rolled on to his back and craned his head so that he was looking at Tommy and (Y/N)

“Release me!”

(Y/N) stood up and crushed her cigarette underneath her shoe before walking over to the man and stood over him.

“I have questions first”

“Fuck you!” The man cursed the language of (Y/N)’s home country.

“Ah!” (Y/N) grinned, “You speak the language, so I’m guessing my father sent you”

“I’m not the only one he sent” The man spat, “There’s about a hundred in England looking for you. Hundred in America and Australia too. No matter where you go, we’ll find you”

“Of course. I know that but I’m not particularly concerned about that, I’m more curious about you.”

“Me?”

(Y/N) nods, “You.”

Tommy watched the interaction with interest. He had no clue what they were saying but he assumed that (Y/N) was pressing the man for information and truthfully speaking, he found it kind of hot.

“It was my father who sent you, correct?”

The man nodded, “Whoever finds you and brings you back gets a seat on his council and your hand in marriage”

(Y/N) scoffed and rolled her eyes and then turned to Tommy, “My father is offering a seat on his council and my hand in marriage to whoever finds me and brings me to him. Interested?”

Tommy snorted, “Does the marriage come with a nice house in your country?”

“Hmm, I’d have to ask”

“Does the marriage come with a nice house?”

This time the man actually spat at her causing her to flinch back and wiped her face with her sleeve with a grimace.

“Okay, enough joking around. How did you find me?”

“London! A bunch of us were stationed there but I’m the only one who spotted you” The man had switched to English.

“Did you tell anyone that you were coming here to get me?”

“No. If I did, I would already be dead.” The man shook his head, “You don’t get a joint prize if you join up with someone.”

“So no one knows you’re here?”

“No”

“...Good”

(Y/N) turned away from the man and walked back to Tommy, “I need a favour”

Tommy raised a knowing brow, “What do I get in return?”

“My undying gratitude?”

“Okay,” Tommy nods, “What’s your plan?”

“Luckily, he hasn’t told anyone about Small Heath but if we let him go, he could tell anyone.”

“So we kill him.”

“...We do”

The man started to scream in protest at their words, moving about erratically, trying his hardest to escape from his restraints.

“Shut up!” (Y/N) shouted at the man

“I’ll get Uncle Charlie to sail down to London and dump his body there, we don't need any unnecessary attention.”

“Your Uncle Charlie would be okay with that?” (Y/N) found that hard to believe.

“No, but he’ll do it anyway.”

“So,” (Y/N) sighed, “How do we get him you wherever your Uncle Charlie is?”

“Knock him out I suppose”

“...I left my brick in the alleyway”

That caused Tommy to snigger. Their current situation wasn’t a laughable one but somehow (Y/N) had managed to make him laugh. He pushed himself up to his feet and pulled his gun out from his holster and made his way over to the frantic man.

He climbed on to the man, legs on either side of his body and then gripped the gun by its barrel before he raised his hand up and struck down with strength, hitting the man with the butt of his gun and rendering him unconscious.

The man became limp and Tommy climbed off and tucked his gun away, “That should do it”

“Alright”

Tommy hooked his arms underneath the man’s like before and started to drag him out of the building with (Y/N) leading the way to Charlie’s yard. Once they arrived, Tommy dragged the man to the edge of the dock.

“Charlie!” Tommy shouted into the night, “Uncle Charlie!”

Moments later an older man hobbled out into the yard, “Jesus Christ, Tom. The sun hasn’t even fully risen yet”

Realising how much time had passed, (Y/N) looked up at the sky and saw the sun just starting to rise and suddenly, all at once, a wave of tiredness waved over her and she was exhausted.

“I need a favour”

“What now?” Charlie grumbled

“I need him dumped in London.” Tommy kicked at the man at his feet

Charlie looked down at the body with what could almost be described as negative interest, “He’s dead then is he?”

“Just knocked out.”

“I’m not going to kill him” Charlie protested, “It’ll take four days to get London anyhow and I won’t have a dead rotting body as I go down”

Tommy was silent as he thought about what to do,

“I’ll go down but I’ll take Curly.”

Charlie nodded, “Alright, I’ll go get him.”

When he left, (Y/N) tugged Tommy to the side and placed her hands on his chest, looking up at him, “You don’t have to do this you know? This is too much for me to ask”

“Hey” Tommy took her chin in his fingers, “Don’t worry, I want to do this.”

“...Thank you” (Y/N) gripped his coat, “Come back to me”

Tommy pressed a soft kiss to her lips, “I will”

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) was on edge for the rest of the week, constantly looking over her shoulder for any suspicious men along with walking around Tommy’s office and Watery Lane for any sight of the man but she didn’t see the man until just over a week since the last time she saw him.

It was late at night when she heard a knock on the door and she scrambled to open it, knowing that it could only possibly be Tommy.

When she opened the door, she threw herself into his arms, arms tight around his neck, “You’re okay”

“Did you think I died?”

“Something like that, now come in”

As Tommy settled himself on her couch, (Y/N) makes them with a drink before she joined him,

“How did everything go?”

“Quick, easy, no need for concern”

“H-How did you do it?”

“Stuffed him full of alcohol and then pushed him overboard” Tommy filled her in

“Smart, if they find him then they’ll just assume he drunk too much and accidentally fell off a bridge or something”

“...Are you safe now?”

(Y/N) gave him a small smile, “For now. They’ll realise he’s been missing or dead soon enough and there still will be a group of people after me but for now, I am safe.”

Tommy’s hand slipped into hers, “I’ll protect you”

“You don’t need to”

“I want to”

.•° ✿ °•.

Months passed without any sort of drama from her end though the same could not be said for Tommy. He had been getting involved in all sorts of business and trouble, something that his Aunt Polly deeply disapproved with but Tommy did what Tommy did, which was whatever he wanted.

That morning, Tommy had gone to the funeral of his brother-in-law along with the rest of his family, leaving (Y/N) alone in Small Heath for the day. Tasked with setting up the pub that morning, (Y/N) made her way to the pub but the sight of two women in black pushing baby prams had stopped her in her steps and she watched as they left them by the doors before running away.

Concerned, she made her way towards the prams but before she could get too close, she was thrown back by the blast of the explosion. Her body hit the cobblestone street with a harsh whack, leaving her dazed.

Once the ringing in her ears had faded and she could open her eyes without immediately wanting to throw up, (Y/N) pushed herself up so that she was sitting up straight and watched as the Garrison burned and tears of heartbreak mixed with her tears of pain.

Soon the streets were filled with policemen and firefighters as they worked together to put out the fire and clear up the area and she watched them as she held a handkerchief that Moss gave her, to the cut on her cheek. Her heart hurt as she looked at what remained of the Garrison, the pub had meant a lot to her and seeing it being reduced to nothing stung, (Y/N) returned back to her flat, unable to take anymore.

Not long after, two cars pulled up the Garrison and the Shelby’s spilt out, Tommy and Polly leading them.

“It happened at, uh, exactly 7 a.m. Only one person saw anything. Our patrols were not in the area.” Moss informed them.

“Who saw it?” Polly asked as she looked at the building.

Moss looked at his notepad, “One of the barmaids, (Y/N). She was also caught up in the blast”

Tommy spun on his heel at the mention of (Y/N)’s name and stalked over to Moss, “What happened to her?”

Moss looked over his shoulder, “She was over there but I guess she must have gone home”

Tommy strode away from the Garrison, ignoring the shouts from Polly as he made his way towards (Y/N)’s flat. He knocked on her door before he walked in, knowing that she rarely locks it during the day.

He found her wrapped in her blankets on her bed, staring mindlessly through her window. Tommy sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her leg,

“You alright?”

(Y/N) let out a wet laugh, “Not really”

“Moss said you got hurt”

“Hmm, the blast flung me back but I’ll be fine. My body will ache and I’ll have a killer headache for a few days but I’ll be fine”

“Look at me”

(Y/N) turned to face him, slightly crawling out of her blanket cocoon and Tommy took her face in his hands, his thumb tracing just underneath her cut.

“What happened?”

“There were two women, in black and they were pushing prams and just left them by the door. I went over but they exploded before I could get too close”

“Did your upbringing not teach you to not go looking at things that are suspicious?” Tommy chided

“I thought there were actual kids in the prams and they had been abandoned”

Tommy didn’t say anything but a look of understanding overcame his face, “I guess that makes sense”

“Not one thing made sense about this place since I arrived. Not one”

“I’ll give you that” Tommy agreed with her

“What’s your plan with the Garrison then?”

“Fix it up.” Tommy sighed as he stood up, knowing that he couldn’t stay with her for any longer “I’ll give you some money until you’re able to get back to work”

(Y/N) smiled at him, “Thank you. You going?”

Tommy nodded at her, “Got business.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek before he left and it wasn’t until he was halfway to his location, did he realise that he’s never done something like that before.

.•° ✿ °•.

The reopening night of the Garrison was a big one and when stepped through the doors, she noted the stark differences with a frown tugging at her lips. The walls were gold and the curtains were red, the chandeliers were grand but it wasn’t the Garrison.

She gave pleasant smiles to those she came across as she made her way towards the back of the bar, the place where she felt the most comfortable. Arthur was also there and she could tell he was on something due to his erratic behaviour but she didn’t mention it to him, only giving him a wave as she wrapped the apron around her waist.

She was quickly swept up with taking orders and making drinks that she didn’t realise that Tommy had reached her until he placed his hand on her hip,

“What do you think aye?” He tried to speak over the loud music

(Y/N) stepped to the side to somewhere slightly quieter and pulled Tommy with her, “It’s certainly something”

Tommy frowned at her, “You don’t like it?”

(Y/N) sighed before she dragged Tommy to a room at the back so they could have complete privacy, “I don’t hate it and obviously I’m very happy to be back at work but the Garrison looks like it belongs in London rather than Small Heath”

“We’re moving up”

“You are but not everyone else in Small Heath is. Obviously, it’s too late to do anything about it now but in the future, remember you’re in Small Heath and not in London.”

Tommy moved so that there were only mere centimetres between them, “Sometimes, I forget who’s the one who grew up here and who’s the one who arrived a year ago between us”

(Y/N) grinned at him, “What can I say, the town of Small Heath is special to me”

“Want to get out of here?” Tommy asked with a raised brow

“I’m sure Arthur can handle the bar by himself” (Y/N) said as she reached for his hand, allowing him to pull her out of the pub.

.•° ✿ °•.

It wasn’t until a month after the reopening of the pub did (Y/N) realise what her fooling around with Tommy had resulted in. After she had connected the dots herself, she had made her way to Watery Lane to find the person who could confirm it for her along with giving her some solid advice.

She made her way into the house of Watery Lane first rather than entering the betting den, hoping that Polly was there instead of her office.

Tommy had told her about the betting den and his illegal business not long after the incident with the man who had followed her and she did not judge, as it would be hypocritical if she did but she understood the reasoning behind what he did for a living but she still hadn’t visited the actual den itself.

Luckily for her, Polly was in the kitchen of the house and (Y/N) slipped into the seat opposite her,

“I need your...expertise”

Polly put down her cup of tea and looked her up and down before she reached out and placed her hand on (Y/N)’s stomach before moving up to her breast, “You’re pregnant, I’d say two, maybe three months”

(Y/N) sunk back in her chair and released a huff, she didn’t know what to do.

“I’m guessing it’s Tommy's,” Polly said as she made them both a cup of tea.

“Who else's would it be?” (Y/N) scoffed.

“Do you want to keep it?” Polly asks as she sets down the two teacups on the table.

“Hmm, I think I do but I’ll have to talk to Tommy. If he doesn’t want anything to do with it, I’ll guess I’ll have to leave Small Heath,”

“Listen, I don’t know the in’s and out’s of whatever you have going on between you two but I do know my nephew. He cares about you deeply and he’s not the type of man to abandon his child.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Last I heard, Charlie’s Yard”

(Y/N) stands up with a nod, “Alright, thank you”

As she made her way to Charlie’s Yard, (Y/N) thought of how she could tell Tommy the news. There was no point dragging it out and Tommy was someone who liked to get straight to the information but she was nervous either way.

She pushed open the gates and made her way to where Charlie and Curly were, “Hello Charlie, Curly.”

Curly stuttered out a greeting and Charlie nodded at her.

“Is Tommy around? I’d heard he was here”

“You just missed him, he went to the Garrison” Charlie informed her.

(Y/N) nodded in thanks and quickly scurried away before she could hear the second sentence.

“But he’s with a woman…” Charlie finished as he watched (Y/N) run away.

(Y/N) hurried to the Garrison, annoyed that she had to run around Small Heath just to find one man and it didn’t help that the news she was carrying was heavy. Finally arriving, she called out his name as she pushed open the door,

“Tommy?! You better be here otherwise-oh” (Y/N) paused at the sight of Tommy with a woman at the bar.

“I thought you weren’t working today?”

“I’m not, I wanted to speak to you and was told I’d find you here but you’re obviously busy, so I’ll leave you alone”

Tommy nodded in understanding and just as (Y/N) was turning to leave the other woman stood forward and offered her hand,

“I’m May. May Carleton.”

(Y/N) glanced over to Tommy, taken off guard but he continued drinking his drink so (Y/N) shook May’s hand, “(Y/N). Nice to meet you”

“Just (Y/N)? No last name?”

“I don’t have one.” (Y/N) gave May one last polite smile before she left.

May stared after her for a few more moments before she turned to Tommy, “She’s not serious right? What is her last name?”

Tommy gave may a shrug, “If she has one, she hasn’t told me”

.•° ✿ °•.

“Right, what’s wrong?” Tommy asked as he stepped into her flat later that evening.

“Uhm okay, I’m just going to get it right out”

Tommy watched as she paced in front of him, whatever she had to tell him was clearly weighing heavily on her mind and he didn’t push her over getting it over and done with.

“Tommy,...I’m pregnant”

Tommy stared at her in shock. Out of all the things he guessed she would tell him, that wasn’t one of them.

“I know this isn’t what we planned or anything and I’ll completely understand if you don’t want anything to do with it but I want to keep it” (Y/N) rushed out in one breath.

“(Y/N), I don’t want you to get rid of it and I want to be involved” Tommy pulled (Y/N) into his embrace, “We’ll raise this child together. You and me.”

(Y/N) looked up at him with tears in her eyes, “Really?”

“Really. We’ll do it.”

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around Tommy tighters and cried into his shoulder and he let her, rubbing his hand up and down her back in hopes it comforted her.

“I was so scared”

“I know. It’s okay.”

They were wrapped up in each other’s embrace for a while before Tommy moved them over to the couch,

“Have you been to the doctor?” Tommy asked

“I went to Polly. Practically the same thing”

Tommy agreed, there were moments where he trusted Polly’s opinion and help over a doctors.

“What did she say?”

“Two months, maybe three”

“I know you went to Polly but I want you to go to the doctor, just to make sure”

(Y/N) nods in agreement, “I will.”

.•° ✿ °•.

One day, almost two months after (Y/N) found out she was pregnant, Tommy picked her up from her flat and took her for a drive. He wouldn’t tell her where they were going but he reassured her that she would like it.

Recently, they were at odds with each other with Tommy wanting (Y/N) to stop working entirely and (Y/N) being totally against it, so she assumed that perhaps he was trying to butter her up.

“You’re not trying to do something so that I’ll forgive you?” (Y/N) asked him.

“No, you can still be as mad as you want, I’m not going to stop you.”

“So the surprise had nothing to do with it?”

“Nope,” Tommy said as he pulled a tie out of his pocket and gave it to her, “Wrap it around your eyes”

(Y/N) did so without arguing and a minute later they pulled up to a stop and Tommy went over to the passenger side of the car to help her out. He kept his grip on her arm as he leads her forward before they stopped.

“You ready?”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yes”

“You can take off the tie”

(Y/N) gasped at what she stood in front of. It was a house, though that was being generous, it was massive and as (Y/N) looked around her in shock, she also realised that they were surrounded by copious amounts of land.

“What’s this?”

“This” Tommy walked towards her, “Is our house”

“Ours? All of it?”

Tommy grinned at her, “All it and all of this land as well. There’s also a stable round back”

“You had to make it worth your while as well, huh?” (Y/N) teased him

“Want to look inside?”

“Can we?”

Tommy offered his arm and (Y/N) took it and allowed him to lead her inside.

The interior was just as grand as the exterior and (Y/N) had fallen love with the place, it was perfect for them, yet also brought back some memories.

“You know, this reminds me of my house back home. It was bigger since it had to satisfy my father’s ego but it never felt like home, not like the way my flat does.”

“This will be different, this will be a home where our child will grow up and they won’t grow up as we did”

(Y/N) nodded reassured.

“I know you want to work for as long as you can and I know I can’t stop you but when you’re ready you can move in here”

(Y/N) was grateful that Tommy gave her space and he understood her because she knew she would go crazy just staying at the house and doing nothing whilst she was still pregnant. When the baby arrived, it would be a different story.

.•° ✿ °•.

When (Y/N) could no longer bend down to collect glasses due to her bump, she knew she had to throw in the towel and stop working. Harry had her working on the books for the most part while she occasionally did bar work but she had reached her limit with her feet swollen and her back constantly aching.

Truthfully the reason why she was having such a difficult time leaving her job was that she did not know when she would be able to return. She enjoyed working at the Garrison and interacting with the locals but once she had the child she would have to put that on pause as she raised her child. She could have a nanny but that was how she was raised and she did not like that.

She made her into Tommy’s office, pausing by Lizzie’s desk to see if he was free before entering. He didn’t look up from his papers when she entered but he did give her a greeting which she returned as she took a seat.

“I’ve decided to hang up my apron” She announces to him.

This makes Tommy look up, “Yeah?”

“I can’t reach the glasses, my ankles are swollen and I have a constant need to go toilet” (Y/N) complained, “If I knew how terrorising pregnancy would be, I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant”

“Want me to call you a driver?”

“Please, I need a nap” Their bed was calling to (Y/N)

Tommy reached for the phone on his desk and called for a driver for her and as (Y/N) watched him, she realised how domesticated it was. Though in many ways, they were too, they lived together, shared a bed and (Y/N) was pregnant with their child but they weren’t in any sort of official relationship of any kind. She would have thought that Tommy would have suggested that they got married for the sake of the child but he hadn’t even brought it up.

She had thought about talking to him about it but her fears quickly overtook her whenever she built up the courage and though it frustrated her, she had more important things to worry about.

.•° ✿ °•.

Childbirth was an experience unlike any other and (Y/N) had to wonder how her mother did it five times but at the end when she held her daughter in her arms, she had never felt happier. It was, in fact, the best day of her life.

Tommy was sitting next to her on the bed, a similar smile on his face. He had never thought that he would become a parent but now that he was one, he found that all of his love was directly for one tiny human and their mother and he had something to live for. He wasn’t afraid of death but now he wouldn’t go throwing himself into situations where he could die and leave his family behind.

“What should we name her?” He asked

“I like the name Isla.”

“Isla Mary Shelby”

(Y/N) looked up at him, “Is Mary your mother’s name?”

Tommy nodded and (Y/N) smiled at him,

“I like that, it suits her. Isla Mary Shelby”

.•° ✿ °•.

Life with a newborn was hard and even though they had nannies on hand to help out, (Y/N) still had reservations on relying on them but slowly she was working towards something that worked for her.

The rest of the Shelby family were just as enamoured with Isla as her parents were and so Polly and Ada were regular visitors. (Y/N) in particular was very grateful for Polly’s presence, the woman always had the best advice and the woman would practically be the closest thing to a grandparent Isla would have.

As (Y/N) unlearned the behaviours of her own parents, so did Tommy. They did not want to become their parents and it took a lot of reassurance and from each other to make sure that they were doing the right thing, they weren't perfect but there was no such thing.

One day, when Isla was a few months old, Tommy brought up the elephant in the room; their marriage or much rather, their lack of one. They were outside, enjoying the warm weath of the summer, watching the horses in the field when he spoke up.

“One day, we’ll get married” He spoke out of the blue, linking their fingers together, “I’m not just saying that so that Isla is safe incase anything happens to me but I do love you and I do want to get married to you”

(Y/N) squeezed his hand, “Is this you proposing to me?”

“Yeah, it is”

Tommy pulled a ring box from out of his pocket and opened it and in there rested a gorgeous ring. He plucked the ring out of the box and held it out to her,

“(Y/N), will you marry me?”

(Y/N)’s lips pulled into a bright smile as she nodded, “Of course, I will.”

Tommy slipped the ring on her finger and pulled her into a kiss. (Y/N) gushed over the ring as she pulled Tommy into hug,

“I know our relationship is unconventional but I know we’re meant for each other”

“We’re good to each other,” Tommy agreed.

“I want to do it when she’s older though, so she can be the flower girl” (Y/N) says as she runs her fingers over Isla’s head, smiling at the little girl’s coos.

“A year or two then”

(Y/N) nods before she brings him into another kiss.

“What is your last name?” Tommy asks

“Does it matter? I am to be a Shelby” (Y/N) replied as she admired her ring.

“I suppose it doesn’t”

.•° ✿ °•.

Just as promised, two years later, Tommy and (Y/N) were getting married. The wedding ceremony would be taking place in a nearby church whilst the reception would be held at their house.

(Y/N) slipped her wedding dress on with the help of Polly whilst, Ada touched up her makeup.

“Nervous?” Polly asked as she did the buttons of the back of her dress

“No” (Y/N) said as she watched her daughter through the mirror, “It’s been a long time coming.”

Polly patted her shoulders, “You’re good to go.”

(Y/N) gave her one last smile before she made her way over to her daughter.

“Hi princess, you ready?” (Y/N) asked

Isla was already dressed as she sat on the floor, playing her dolls, with a cute hair clip that matched her dress.

“We see daddy?”

“Uh-huh” (Y/N) nodded, smiling when Isla jumped up and took her hand.

As she had no family to walk her down the aisle, John had stepped up and offered his arm, which she gratefully took. Isla toddled down first, throwing handfuls of petals out of her little basket down to the floor before she hurried over to wrap her arms around her father’s legs giving him a quick hug before Polly scooped her up.

Then, (Y/N) and John walked down and (Y/N) could not keep her eyes off of Tommy. He had a straight face but that did not fool her in any way, she knew he wanted the wedding as much as she did.

The ceremony sped by and before she knew it, (Y/N) was walking back down the aisle but this time her arm was in Tommy’s and their friends and family were cheering and throwing petals at them as they left the church.

They stopped at the steps as they waited for the rest of their family to join them and they took the moment to have half a second of alone time.

“I told you we should have gotten married just by ourselves with an officiant.” Tommy muttered underneath his breath.

“I don’t plan on having another wedding, do you? I want this to be a day I remember for the rest of my life” (Y/N) responded, “Now, please don’t frown, you’re worse than Isla.”

Tommy rolled his eyes at the reminder that his daughter took after him in many ways but relaxed his face as the rest of their family joined them and took their places for the picture.

.•° ✿ °•.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know they would do this”

(Y/N) jumped when Tommy suddenly stormed into the room she was in, a newspaper clenched in his hands.

“Huh? What are you on about?”

Tommy gave her the newspaper before he began to angrily pace in front of her. (Y/N) looked down at the newspaper and her stomach dropped at the headline and the picture from their wedding day below it;

‘Thomas Shelby OBE MP marries wife in small wedding in Warwickshire’

“What the fuck…”

“They must have snuck in with the other photographer” Tommy theorised, “It’s a national paper”

“Oh Tommy,” (Y/N) sighed, “Is this today’s paper?”

Tommy shook his head, “Yesterday’s”

“Then it is too late” (Y/N) whimpered, “They know where I am and they’ll be here to get me”

“It’s been what, three, four years since you ran away, would they still care?”

“It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, they won’t stop until I’m back or dead. I defied them and they’ll never forgive me”

Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her, “They won’t I promise you that.”

“If this is yesterday's paper then they could be here already. It’s too late.”

“I have men here, we can take him”

(Y/N) shook her head in denial, “Not if they get my father or brothers”

“They’ll take a couple of weeks for them to get there, we can plan in that time.”

“No, Tommy” (Y/N) sounded defeated, “No offence, but your Peaky Boys have nothing on my fathers men and we’re isolated out here”

“Have you given up?” Tommy was in disbelief, “Have you given up on living? Given up on your daughter who sleeps upstairs?! That’s not who you are!”

“You don’t know them! They will kill all of us except me if we try to fight back and they will torture me with that fact. If I go to them without a fight, then you can live!”

“No. I refuse.”

“You refuse?” (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh

“We go on the run. Escape to America until it’s all blown over”

“They’ll find us there and it’ll repeat until they get me”

Tommy released a frustrated sigh as he paced to the other side of the room and pour himself a large class of whiskey,

“I refuse to simply allow you to give yourself up to them. Isla needs her mother and I need my wife. You said you didn’t want to be the type of parents yours were but what you have planned, is simply no better.”

“Then what do you suggest?” (Y/N)’s voice was quiet but there was an edge to it.

“We go back to Small Heath, we gather our men and we plan.”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and nodded, “We do not give up”

Tommy pulled her into a hug, “We do not”

.•° ✿ °•.

They had temporarily moved back to Small Heath and Tommy and gathered all of the family but as (Y/N) refused to let anyone get too involved or close, the brunt of the plan laid on her shoulders.

It had almost been a month and nothing had happened which meant that her family was coming or she had managed to get away with it but they were still on edge and weren’t willing to put their guards down. Tommy had Moss keep an eye out along with Alfie Solomons sending information about what was happening in London. According to him, (Y/N)’s father’s men had paid for spies across the city and that they knew they were in Birmingham.

Their intuition was right when one day they had received a call from Moss about two cars heading into Small Heath and (Y/N) knew her family had finally arrived. Not wanting to bring the confrontation to the streets of Small Heath, Tommy and (Y/N) drove to the edge and met them there but they weren’t completely alone, Tommy had gun men placed around the area which gave them a little advantage but there was no knowing what her family had planned.

If things went south and neither (Y/N) or Tommy survived then Ada was instructed to escape to America with Karl and Isla and (Y/N) could only hope that wouldn’t happen.

They stood in silence as they waited for the family to arrive but when (Y/N) spotted them, she pulled Tommy into a kiss and hug,

“I love you, never forget that.” She whispers to him.

“I won’t”

They pulled apart when the cars pulled to a stop and turned to face the men who stepped out.

An older man stepped out first, before four younger men climbed out after him. (Y/N) could not help herself as she ran her eyes over her family, looking at what had changed since she last saw them.

“Father. Brothers” She greeted as they stood to a stop opposite her and Tommy.

The youngest brother, the one closest in age to her tipped his head in greeting whilst everyone else glared at her.

“Daughter. I see you decided to make the correct decision and give yourself up.”

(Y/N) snorted and shook her head, “I have not. I will not”

“Do not be foolish sister,” Her eldest brother takes a step forward, “Don’t you realise how worried we’ve been? We’ve been searching for you for year, only to find out you’ve been here in this...shithole”

Her brother looked around in disgust as he finished his sentence.

“Drop the act. I’m not here to play games.” (Y/N) was tired already, “I’m not leaving with you, so what’s your plan?”

“You don’t have a choice. I set up a marriage between you and my closest man, you know he has spent all these years travelling across the globe looking for you? He deserves a reward”

(Y/N) pulled a face at her fathers words, “First of all, I am not a reward, I am a human being. Second, he must have not been looking very hard considering I ended up being ousted by a newspaper and thirdly, I’m already married and I don’t plan on getting married again”

Her second eldest brother snarled at her, “You’ve grown a backbone sister. We’ll have to beat it out of you”

This caused Tommy to finally step forward and cleared his throat, “I can’t let you to do that”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m her husband” Tommy gestured towards (Y/N) and she could see that he enjoyed it.

“Enough!” (Y/N)’s father stepped forward, “No more arguing, I’ll give you one last chance or we’ll take you by force”

(Y/N)’s shoulders slumped, “Why don’t you leave me alone? Go back and just forget about me”

“No one will take us seriously, if we don’t make an example out of you, then we’ll be seen as a joke.”

“I won't go and you cannot force me to and I’d much rather die than go anywhere with you”

Her father pulled out his gun and her brothers quickly followed which caused Tommy to do the same and the air was thick with tension.

“No, no, no if she wants to die then I’ll be the one to kill her.” Her father waved at her brothers and they put their guns away.

(Y/N) looked at Tommy and gave him a nod, and Tommy nodded back knowing the meaning behind the look and he put his gun away too. (Y/N) made her way to her father and when she was close enough, he reached out and pulled her towards him and jabbed his gun underneath her jaw.

“This is the end, daughter, you brought this upon yourself” Her father growled

“This is the end, but not for me”

(Y/N) pulled the gun she had been hiding in her waistband of her trousers and pressed it against her father’s chest. She didn’t even give him a moment to realise what was happening before she pulled the trigger, shooting her father in the chest.

He staggered back in shock before (Y/N) pushed him and causing him to fall backwards, landing on the floor with a thump,

“Fuck you!” (Y/N) spat in her native language.

One of her brothers came running at her and she pointed the gun at him, stopping him in her tracks, “I’ll kill you too, don’t fucking try me”

“Go back to your home and never return.” Tommy stepped forward.

(Y/N)’s brothers looked between each other before (Y/N) spoke again, “Leave. Take his body and go back. Never come back here or try to find me.”

Her eldest brother motioned for the youngest two to take the body of their father while he cursed at her,

“We’ll never forgive you and you’ll pay for your crimes in the afterworld”

“I’ll meet you there and we can pay for our crimes together”

Her brother growled her one last time before he got into the car and sped off. Once (Y/N) could no longer see them, she turned and collapsed into Tommy’s arms, a massive weight finally lifted off of her.

“You did it!” Tommy pulled away and smiled at her, “You did it, you wonderful woman”

(Y/N) let out a soft, “I did, didn’t I?”

Tommy took her gun and whistled, signalling for the men stationed around they could come down before he began to lead her towards the car,

“Want a drink?”

“Several but before that I want to see my daughter, go back to Arrow House and take a hot bath”

“Whatever you want”

.•° ✿ °•.

The shouts of children filled the gardens of Arrow House along with the chattering of adults and (Y/N) felt the last of the weight of her shoulders disappear. She had always been worried that her family would find her but now that they were truly gone, she could live without worry.

It was Isla’s third birthday and her and Tommy had decided to throw a party to celebrate it. Her and a group of local children were running around whilst the parents and other adults were sitting around enjoying the warm summer air and cool drinks.

Tommy crept up behind (Y/N) and wrapped one of his arms around her waist and gave her a kiss on her cheek, “You okay?”

(Y/N) gave him a smile and a nod, “I’m great”

“Mama!” Isla came running up to her, arms raised, “Up pwease!”

(Y/N) did as she was asked and lifted her daughter up, “What’s up princess?”

“Cake?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. What do you think, dad?” (Y/N) turned to Tommy with a smile

Isla turned to her father and put on her biggest puppy dog eyes, “Pwease dada!”

Tommy put on a show as if he was seriously debating on what to do, “Only if I get a hug from the birthday girl”

(Y/N) almost dropped Isla from how sudden she tried to get out of her arms and into her fathers but she helped her climb over and watched as she gave Tommy a tight hug with an added kiss on the cheek.

“Cake now?”

“Alright, go get your friends and we’ll go get the cake?” Tommy put her down and watched as she ran off to her friends.

“She’s growing up too fast” (Y/N) pouted as they walked inside, “In no time she’ll be spending most of her time at school”

“If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll be fine” Tommy assured her.

(Y/N) sighed, “I know, but I’m still going to be sad. Now let’s get going otherwise our princess will come storming in here demanding to know what’s taking so long”

Tommy pulled (Y/N) to a stop just before they entered the kitchen and cupped her face, “I love you”

(Y/N) smiled at him, “I love you too”

#call an ambulance but not for me vibes in 'that' scene lmao #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder imagines #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby #imagines #x reader #thomas shelby

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displacedentities · 4 years ago

Text

Night Out

My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.

-Myst -----

Finally. Another shift in the books.

With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.

Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...

He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.

"Hey Luka?"

Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.

"Luka..."

And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.

"HEY!"

This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.

The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.

"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.

"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."

"I was asking if you ever go out."

"Ah- what?"

That was unexpected. Go out?

"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"

Ah.

Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.

"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."

Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.

Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.

"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.

Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.

"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."

"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."

Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.

"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."

Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.

"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"

Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.

"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"

Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"

"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."

Shit.

He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.

Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.

"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.

"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."

Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.

Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.

"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"

"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"

...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.

"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."

Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.

"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Wait!"

Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.

"What day were you planning to do it?"

What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!

Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.

"Saturday! Would that work for you?"

"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."

Bad idea, what are you doing?!

"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"

Say no, say NO!

"Sure, sounds fun."

AGH!

"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."

"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."

"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.

"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.

Oh thank god she's gone.

Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.

Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.

The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.

------

MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.

"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"

"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"

"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."

Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-

Was he really going forward with this?

...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.

Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.

It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.

Stay calm. You can do this.

The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.

"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.

"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."

"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."

"You mean like the chairs in high school?"

Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.

"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."

When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.

It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.

Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.

This would be a great evening, he could feel it.

"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."

"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."

"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."

"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."

"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."

"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."

"Coffee twink," Clover counters.

"No, that's MJ."

"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.

"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."

"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.

Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.

"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.

"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.

"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."

"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."

Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.

"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.

"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."

"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."

The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.

"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.

"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."

"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"

"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"

"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."

Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.

"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"

"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."

Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.

Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.

That was- heavier than expected!

"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."

"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."

"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.

Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.

A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.

"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.

"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"

Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.

The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.

"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"

"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."

"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.

When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.

Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.

"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"

Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.

The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.

Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.

“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”

“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”

Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.

The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...

Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-

The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.

"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.

"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"

"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.

Clover shakes her head, not having it.

"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"

"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.

"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"

Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.

This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?

"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."

"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.

"No betting. I know you can."

Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.

---

The evening is going fantastic.

The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.

The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.

"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.

"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."

"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.

"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."

"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."

Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.

"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.

"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"

"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."

"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.

"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."

Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.

The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.

Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.

No-

No no no-

His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-

9:17?

They'd been here nearly four hours?!

He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.

His time limit was up.

This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!

"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."

Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.

The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.

"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"

"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.

MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"

"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.

"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"

Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.

No- not now! Why now?

Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.

"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"

He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.

Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.

"No..."

This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.

He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.

"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."

-bang bang bang-

The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.

"Luka? You ok in there?"

It was MJ.

Peck!

Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?

"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"

"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"

He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!

"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"

"NO!"

No, the reverb was stronger!

"Luka, I'm coming in."

"MJ it's fine!"

Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.

Shit, shit!

Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!

Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-

The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.

NO TIME!

Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.

The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.

Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.

Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.

"Luka?"

His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.

Footsteps, in the bathroom.

"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"

"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"

"His shoes are here..."

"His shoes??"

Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!

God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?

-brrring brrring-

The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.

MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.

The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.

Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.

Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.

He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.

Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.

Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.

As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.

The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.

Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.

His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.

Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.

"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.

"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."

"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"

"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."

"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"

"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."

"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"

"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."

"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”

"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"

"Wait-!!"

-click-

MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.

Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.

Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!

A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.

Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.

Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.

Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.

The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.

Thank god the man didn't have a camera.

#Coffee Shop Au #AHIT #A Hat In Time #doodledrawsthings #Snatcher #Hat Kid #Moonjumper #Clover #noticed a couple mistakes and it's too late to fix em wHOOPS #OH WELL

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