#ch: arthur shelby

[theshelbyslimited]

I haven't shares the previous chapter yet but I just had to share this one as soon as I'd finished reading it bc this chapter was AMAZINGGG. we finally know Heaven's story and lord her + Arthur truly have my heart 😭🤍 I promise I will share my proper thoughts and appreciation asap angel!

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Following the event of the kidnapping of his son, Thomas and the rest of the family learn you have killed a man. Confused and in a state of shock, the Shelbys debate whether or not they should accept you. But while they are debating, you are falling into a pit of anxiety. Now, it's Arthur's time to be there for you.

Words: 6K

TW: Light angst, canonical description of violence, mention of child abuse, smut, unprotected sex, mention of death and torture, trauma talk, fluff, hurt/comfort

Notes:

✞ Admittedly this part is longer than what I planned to do but it has plenty of essential moments and discussions. The next chapter wont be that long. As for the smut part, it is quite long too but it does have a purpose in the story. You can skip it if you want but you'll miss information.

✞ This chapter is complementary to the one-shot From Blood We'll Grow (but no need to read it)

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

Thomas Shelby was leaning against the kitchen counter, cigarette hanging in his lips and piercing blue eyes focused on the needle of the pocket watch he was holding in his hand. It would not be long before Arthur and John would come back, consequently he did his best to enjoy the precious quietness of the house before some family chaos. He put the watch back in the pocket of his vest and took a quick look at Polly, Ada, and Michael, who had no other choice but to wait with him. When Tommy demanded a family reunion, every one of them knew they better not missed it. The two women were sitting at the table, a smoking hot cup of tea in their hands. Polly’s dark irises were staring at an invisible spot on the wall in front of her as she lost herself in the meanders of her own thoughts. Contrary to her aunt, Ada could not stay still. She was nervously moving her leg, eyes shifting between her big brother, the clock on the wall, and her own hands.

“Where’s she?!” Arthur’s voice suddenly roared in the kitchen, alongside the loud bang the door made when he almost burst it open.

Here we go, Tommy thought even though his face remain placid. Knowing Charlie was safe at home had extinguished his anger.

“Is she okay?” John asked, sincerely worried for you. As time passed, he had grown fond of your presence more and more. He was out of breath for he had been running behind his oldest brother, trying to catch up with him. When he entered the kitchen, less than one minute after Arthur, he had leaned against one chair with his hands and tried his best not to spit his burning lungs out.

“Calm down, Arthur.” Tommy issued with a neutral voice, looking at Arthur’s face which was distorted with both worry and rage.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Tom! Where the FOOK is she?” At first, Tommy thought his brother was just agitated, but when he saw Arthur coming at him with teeth bared and darkened eyes he understood it was not a simple tantrum. It was fury — the same fury that had pushed him to almost killed the man who had tried to murder Thomas at the horse race, to the point they had to choke him until he almost blacked out just to calm him. Tommy did not falter though and remained motionless.

Witnessing how enraged the oldest sibling was, Polly got up from her chair and grabbed him by the arm.

“She’s fine! I’ve taken care of her myself. She is fine.” Polly repeated louder, hoping her words would overcome her nephew’s terrifying fit. She had barely finished her sentence when Arthur turned his head to her in one vivid movement and growled like an animal. However, his facial expression relaxed a little despite his brows still furrowed and his eyes shooting bullets at everyone he was looking at. Anger was boiling in his veins, fueling his heart that was pumping to the rhythm of his growing anxiety. Breath hitching, teeth still slightly bared, Polly knew his nephew could snap at any moment. She knew he was like a jerrican of gasoline, whose slightest spark could turn into a destructive wildfire, “Arthur, please. She needs you lucid,” She paused and gently tightened her hands around his arm, “She just needs you.”

Arthur closed his eyes for a few seconds and inhaled. The gulp of fresh air managed to set his ideas straight — or was it simply because your well-being was more significant than anything else in the world? When he reopened his lids, he gathered all his strength to remain in control of his wild spirit. Another growl escaped from his lips.

“Where is she ?” These were the only words he could utter. Polly took a quick glance at Tommy and sighed. The whole family knew that Arthur, as stubborn as a dog refusing to give its stick, would not let it go. He would remain deaf to any of their explanations as long as he was not informed where his angel was.

“I’ve brought her to your house. I’ve helped her clean the blood from her skin. She was curled up in your bed when I left. See? She’s at home, safe and sound.”

“Hm.” He mumbled with his jaw clenched, right before starting to pace back and forth in the room like a caged lion under Tommy’s undisrupted eyes. The latter cleared his voice to get everyone’s attention.

“I want to know what happened in every detail. Michael?” Tommy’s voice was collected. So controlled and cold his breath almost turned the whole room into a castle of ice and frost. Michael shook his head. The latest events were still stuck on replay in his troubled mind: the sensation of Hughes's skin against his hands made him nauseous each time he thought about it. Even though he took the life of the monster who had robbed him of his innocence, the threatening shadow of the priest still floated above him, waiting for Michael to fall asleep to fill his nightmare with unspeakable and excruciating memories. Hughes was gone, but the wounds were still there, vey much opened. He lowered his head, unable to bear the weight of the family’s eyes staring at him.

“I’ve killed Hughes,” He started his left hand nervously scratching the back of his right one until his skin turned red, “I wanted to grab Charles and bring him home but he was not in there. That’s when I heard a kid screaming and a big thud. When I entered the other room Heaven was—“ He stopped, for he felt the burn of the ravaging fire that was blazing in Arthur’s eyes. The unspoken threat was clear enough for him to understand: he better be careful with the next words that were about to come from his mouth if he did not want the beast to tear him apart.

“She was?” Tommy’s authoritative and slightly impatient tone captured his attention again.

“She was covered with blood, Charles in her arms. She had killed the man who wanted to hurt your son by stabbing him with a pair of scissors. If Heaven had not been there, Hughes’ colleague would have shot me and Charlie down. I saw a gun a few inches from the corpse.”

No one dared to speak now that the facts had been spit, leaving no doubt on your implication in the whole mission. Tommy brought his hands to his face and rubbed it in an attempt to process all the information he had just learned. A part of him could not believe it: how could you so easily kill a man who was almost twice your height and weight? After all, you were such a frail and small creature he had trouble imagining you going feral and butchering someone with the sole strength of your tiny hands. Yet, he knew about the dead you left on your trail when you left France. Five men, his informants told him. Five men were found dead in the forest surrounding the village. The authorities who had reported the crime called it “inhumane”. When Tommy read the case file, his jaw almost dropped at the description of the bodies — these men had not only been murdered, they had been hunted down like animals. While he first doubt the veracity of the reports, today’s events made him realize they were not exaggerated. You were dangerous. As dangerous as unpredictable. And Tommy hated what he could not predict nor control.

“Heaven… killed him?” Arthur asked, thus breaking the silence. He had frozen, turned to an ice statue by Michael’s words. He could not believe it either. How could you, his sweet and holy angel, do such a thing? He swallowed, left utterly speechless and confused.

“She did!” Michael insisted when he saw the doubt on Arthur’s face. Then, he turned to Tommy once again, “I’d be fucking dead if she hadn’t been there. And Charles too.”

Tommy let out a loud sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to kill his dawning headache.

“There was so much blood on her Tommy.”

So much blood, Arthur thought. His mind drifted away from the conversation as he tried to recreate the scene in his head. He imagined you, entering the office bathed in the pale moonlight, crimson ink bringing a frightening touch of color to your snow-white hair and skin. It felt surreal — and exciting.

“I’ve told you she was a fucking curse but no one listened to me. What am I supposed to do for people to fucking listen to me eh? Hear me Arthur?” Tommy’s chilling gaze looked upon his oldest brother.

“You know what? Fuck you, Tom. I’m done.” Arthur’s gruff voice was underlined with an unexpected and astounding calm. He had reached his breaking point, “What are ye gonna do now, eh? Wait, lemme guess. You’re gonna come at me and stand with your bossy demeanor, telling me I need to leave me angel because she’s some kind of psychotic freak to you. Then you’re gonna pat my back and tell me to forget her and that I’ll find a better woman. Maybe buy me a whore. Yes, that sounds like Tommy Shelby.” Arthur shook his head, a sarcastic chuckle coming from his lips, “You tried to make me suspect her, eh. Can't fucking believe it.” He chuckled again, far more nervously this time. “Wanna pull everyone down in your fall, that's what you want. If you can’t be happy no one around you shall be, right?“

“You don’t seem to realize what she did. And she told me to keep an eye on my son. Everyone would have suspected her.” Tommy retorted, blizzard coating his words.

“But she saved him.” Everyone turned to Polly, whose remark caused Thomas Shelby to grit his teeth. The unpleasant truth felt like nails scratching a board. Except the board was his own bones and the nails his Aunt’s words.

“She risked her own life to save your son even though you had insulted her.”

“Polly, I do like her. But I understand Tommy. She killed someone. You get it? This is not a trivial way to resolve a problem.” Ada intervened, her fingers tapping the varnished wood of the table.

“That’s what we always do, Ada. That’s what I did too.” Polly spoke with indisputable sorrow in her voice, “Whether you like it or not this company’s license is written in blood, and its foundations are made with dead bodies. We are all standing on an empire of silent hearts and maimed flesh.” A fresh nightly breeze went through the open window, caressing Polly’s face and making her short curly hair dance in the wind. The power of her soliloquy tamed Ada’s fierce spirit, “Arthur and John have been killing for this family for years. I murdered Campbell. Regarding Michael — Michael put Hughes down. And you, Tommy, when did you lose count of the men you put to sleep?”

“Fucking right.” Arthur mumbled.

Thomas looked at his aunt with a neutral face, the only detail that betrayed him was the spark of interest shining in his piercing blue eyes.

“Think ‘bout it Tommy. She foresaw Charles’ abduction. And when her powers reached her limits, she had not been afraid to dive her own hands in shit to help us. Don’t you think she has proven her loyalty to this family?”

“She isn’t loyal to us, she is to Arthur.” He corrected.

“It makes little to no difference,” Arthur responded, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, then.” Tommy cut them all off, clapping his hands to close the debate. He had heard enough, “Since we all have different opinions about Arthur’s angel — the sarcasm in his voice was undeniable — we’re going to vote. Arthur?”

“A vote? ‘Bout me bloody life decisions? Go to Hell, Tom!” He roared in response, driven crazy by the fact you were all alone at home, aching and terrified, and that he was not here for you, “She’s the woman I’ll marry. The other half of my soul. You can go all fook off if you don’t accept her in the family.”

“Predictable. Ada?”

“I don’t know. She had been quite extreme and Finn is scared of her. “

“Gonna take this for a negative answer along with Finn’s opinion. I already know Esme’s thoughts on the topic so there are three people opposed to her joining this family and one rooting for it. John?”

John remained silent for a while, his sky-blue eyes staring at Tommy with palpable irritation, “How can you all even discuss the topic? She has done more to take care of Arthur than anyone here in this room.” He walked to his oldest brother and put one hand on his shoulder as a sign of support, “I like her, and she deserves a place in this fucking family, even though she'll soon understand she ain't the curse but this family name is.”

“Michael?” Tommy went on, unmoved.

“I did not really care until now. Don’t really trust the girl but she saved me so… “

“I’ll take that as a yes. And Polly?”

“I know I haven’t been easy with her but it was because I could not sense her intentions. I was afraid she would bring evil forces upon us but she has the gift of healing. My grandmother used to have it, you know, and it runs only through the veins of exceptionally gifted witches. She could be useful, you know. We could benefits from her powers. And tonight…” She took a deep breath, “She saved my son.” The way to a mother’s heart often was her children, and Polly Gray was no exception.

“Three against four. Seems like this whole debate is over, Tom. Now I think I’ve been patient enough with your bullshit. Stop wasting my time while my place is beside her.” Arthur took one last look at his family, fury blazing in his eyes, and left the house, making the whole building shake when he slammed the door close.

“Heaven!”

When Arthur stormed into your bedroom, he was welcomed with the sight of your quivering silhouette standing in front of the window and hugging itself. It felt like a stab in his heart as he was reminded that you had to face the latest events all alone. Worst than this, one of the last things he had expressed to you was a slight doubt about your involvement in Charles’ kidnapping. He had not only been absent, he had also been awful, and God knew how ashamed it made him feel.

“Are you okay?” It did not take more than one second for Arthur to rush toward you and cup your face between his large hands, “Fookin’ hell, angel I’m so so sorry!”

You did not reply but instead stared at his guilty blue eyes with an unfathomable expression on your face. Your silence convinced him you were mad at him.

“They told me what happened and — “

Arthur could not finish his sentence, for your small and cold fists grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him in a ferocious kiss. Your lips crashed against his like a rogue wave breaking on the shore and destroying everything in his path.

You pulled away from the kiss, leaving his mouth hanging a few inches from yours.

Arthur, running out of breath, did not move except for his steel blue eyes that looked down at your body. You were wearing nothing but his white shirt adorned with stripes. The garment covered you down your thighs for it was far too large for your tiny being. “Christ,” He whispered to himself, struck by how the vision of you wearing his shirt as only clothes turned him on. His whiskey breath melted with yours, almost intoxicating you in the process as if you had drunk the whole bottle by yourself. But it was not alcohol that was making your head spin, but the instant relief the eldest Shelby gave you by his sole presence. Arthur’s tongue grazed your swollen lips with its tip, desperately hungry for more. He had been waiting to come back to you for countless hours, your face haunting his mind even when he had sent men to Hell in one big explosion. “Kiss me again, please.” He said in a soft but slightly impatient voice. He needed you to kiss him again. He needed to feel you did not hate him for doubting, nor for not having been there to protect you.

But you did not bless him with a second kiss despite the undeniable supplications in his fair eyes and the caress his feverish sighs left on your skin. You stood still, your irises firmly anchored in his for what seemed to be an eternity. Your lips remained sealed but one crystal tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hey. I’m here, love. I'm so sorry for everything you had to do…” Arthur said softly when he noticed you were crying.

No reply came from your tantalizing mouth. You kept staring at him, battling against the flood of emotions that was invading you now that your mind slowly but surely came to realize what happened last night. The blood — there had been so much blood.

“Heaven, talk to me.” He pressed one of his hands on your cheek, the cold silver of his rings alleviating your panic. And then it happened. You snapped out of your torpor all of a sudden and pushed him onto the bed. Arthur’s body fell on the soft mattress, leaving him both speechless and surprised by such unexpected reaction. Eyes wide opened, lips parted, he wondered what would you do such a thing. Did you — reject him?

“I need to forget this awful night.” Your voice was merely a whisper, but the power your words held shook him to his very soul. It was not anger nor resentment that coated your tone but lust. Without shifting your eyes from him, you brought your hands to the large shirt you were wearing and undid the first button, “I have to get it out of my goddamn head.” The way your French accent melted on your words like butter got him all fuzzy and weak.

“You sure, love?” He asked still surprised, taking a deep inhale through his nostrils.

“You have to erase it from my mind.” Your sentence broke up his core.

Arthur bit the flesh of his lower lip in anticipation as he understood what you wanted from him. Somehow, he got it: the blood, the adrenaline, the thrill of the kill… You had to find a way to release the tension. That was what he did with you in the shower last time he bashed someone’s head with his bare fists. Not only he got it, but he was ready to be your cure. His pale irises devoured your silhouette, desire burning within as you started to strip in front of him. You popped the second button with your frail fingers — and he flickered like a candle flame. Arthur’s fists closed on the bedsheet as frustration grew stronger at your languorous movements… And yet, that was the most exquisite form of torture he had ever experienced. He grunted, almost like an animal. If he had genuinely enjoyed the sight of you wearing his shirt, all he wanted now was to tear that bloody thing off you and exposed your naked body for him to see. When you finally popped the last button, a shiver of desire ran down his spine as if someone had just brushed him with the sharp tip of a knife.

The shirt was now open, showcasing more of your appetizing porcelain flesh. With one languid gesture, you let it fall on the floor and disclosed your whole being to Arthur’s starving eyes. The way the pale light of the sun coming through the window’s blinds drew patterns on your silky skin captivated him.

“Oh fuck — love,” His gruff voice said, carried away with a moan. The sensual sight made his whole body react, to the point he was now feeling far too tight in his trousers, and that was getting uncomfortable. Usually, he would not have waited so long for touching you, but today he could not help but admire your wildness. Petrified by a far too eery arousal, Arthur had the impression invisible ropes were wrapped around his body and pinned him to the mattress. He could not move and barely breathe. All he was able to do was to watch you with complete fascination. What stirred such a dizzying and strong effect was not only your angelic beauty, but also the dangerous energy that was radiating off you. This, combined with the few dried blood stains that were still adorning your skin from here and there left him feral. You stepped towards the bed, your hips swinging to the rhythm of your graceful walk. Arthur, hypnotized, swallowed the lump in his throat, his mouth dry and his heart racing in his chest. You hopped on the mattress and straddled him. How could such a tiny creature like you hold so much power? He thought. Hell, he could have broken your frail bones so easily with his own hands but here you were, riding him. You. The sweet angel he had met at church.

But you had a twisted something.

And it made him fall even harder.

A twisted something Linda never had nor understood.

Arthur inhaled sharply and growled, realizing you had literally taken his breath away.

“I want you. ” You said with teary eyes.

“So what are you waiting for, love?” His words managed to reach his mouth despite the awe you instilled in him. As he said so, your hands boldly began to explore his chest. The friction of your palms and his shirt’s fabric against his skin unleashed a wave of warmth within. Arthur shivered and watched you, still enraptured, while he let you take control of him. To hell with Tommy’s doubts and the family’s fear, you could pull his strings he would not mind as long as you belonged to him. After you had opened his shirt and exposed his chest, scattered with millions of freckles you often liked to kiss, your fingers made their way down his boiling skin and left frost in their wake. Another gruff moan — you were giving him fever.

Once you reached his waist, you took his suspenders off and threw them somewhere in the bedroom. Arthur replied to your boldness by grabbing your hips with his large and calloused hands — scarred from murder — and by giving them a bruising squeeze. That simple touch, combined with the feeling of his hard shaft pressing between your legs, sent surges of electricity through your entire being.

“Let your man take care of you, eh,” The gravel in his voice made your cheeks burn. He wiped your golden tears with his thumb— as beautiful as they were, he just hated to see them on your pretty face. Somehow, Arthur was well aware he was a high-maintenance man and he could not thank you enough for everything you were doing for him. How many times Linda had told him he wasn’t worth her help? He wasn’t worth saving? He had lost count after a while, but you never did. Unable to wait any longer for your bodies to unite, he then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, those noises bringing goosebumps all over your skin, “there, love.” He softly uttered before pulling his pants down just enough to free his erection. You moved your hips in response, guiding his cock between your wet folds without further ado. Welcomed by your wet warmth, he let out a long sigh of pure delight. Nothing could have prepared him to the all-consuming, almost suffocating desire you stirred in him. Sometimes he wondered if you had cast a spell on him, for no other woman had such an irresistible effect upon him. Each time you touched him, even for the simplest and most innocent interaction, desire and love hit him like a bullet.

“Arthur…” You sighed, as he started to roll his hips under you and push against your entrance with the glistening head of his cock. It was too much for him to wait anymore: all he wanted now was to dive into your flesh and conquer the wild territory of your soul. You gritted your teeth, almost hissing with excitation at the hurricane of sensations that was tearing you apart. You could not wait either, because he was the one who could fill the void. That excruciating and gaping void, as painful as a sucking wound, that had first opened a few years ago when you killed these five men. Oh, don’t get it wrong, they deserved it as much as the priest, but it had left you empty since then— so empty it hurt. But Arthur found you one night, and everything changed. You were his savior, but he was your cure.

“Look at me, Heaven. “ He said, his tone candy-coated with tenderness, for you had lowered your gaze ashamed of your tears. You obeyed and dared to look, your aquamarine eyes shining like precious stones. “The first night you saw me killed a man you told me I was pretty with blood all over my face. I could not fookin’ believe it,” He left his sentence hanging and pushed inside you, his thick cock stretching your walls. You moaned, throwing your head back and closing your eyes at the delightful mix of pain and pleasure.

“Arthur!” You whined, a louder lament escaping from your quivering lips, “I— I remember… ” You managed to answer between two sighs. Speaking became a real struggle as he worked you open, causing heat to pool in your abdomen and blood to rush to your pale cheeks. Arthur gave another thrust, and another, until your hips met and every last inch of his cock was buried deep inside you. Fire spread within his soul and yours when you finally made one — like you were meant to be. “Arthur!“ You repeated in a desperate cry, glistening love juice dripping from your pussy as he started with a quick pace from the get-go. You took a sudden deep breath and opened your eyes wide as if you had suddenly come back to life — because that was the kind of effect he had on you: he made you feel alive. With each push and pull of his cock, he fogged your mind and let you forget all the bad memories.

“F-Fuck!“ Sucking in a sharp breath, he shattered at the way you chanted his name. Head spinning, heart drumming, Arthur could not help but enjoy your beauty — How magnificent you were with your back arching and blissed out. “Well, I see you right now, and lemme tell you…” He panted, forced to make short pauses between his words to let out hoarse growls of pleasure, “You don’t look pretty,” He straightened back up to sit on the edge of the bed and wrapped your waist with his long arms while his hips kept fucking you in a rough pace. The corner of his lips curled in a fierce grin now that he could watch the emotions on your face from far closer, “You look divine with blood stains all over you and my dick deep inside that tight holy pussy of yours.” His words, carried by the gravel of his voice, chased away the sorrow and brought a smile to your swollen lips. As a reply, you kissed him with hunger. Dancing tongues left him breathless, “And now I’m gonna fuck away the pain and fill you with something else than sadness…” He whispered against your mouth before abandoning it only to lay a myriad of enamored kisses on your throat. The way his mustache tickled your skin only strengthened the coiling tension that had formed a knot in your stomach. “Tonight, I’m the one who saves you, angel.”

His thrusts grew faster and rougher as he spoke. To the point you were now bouncing on his lap, the sound of snapping flesh echoing in the whole bedroom alongside your erratic breath, his hoarse moans, and your enchanting cries of pleasure. You felt full and he did his best to keep you so. In fact, he barely pulled his hips back — rather wanting to remain as deep as he could in your oh-so tight pussy, “You’re a good girl, yes you are. The prettiest little murderous thing ever created eh. The fookin’ perfection …” He purred in your neck, and each of his praises made your very soul quiver. His pace soon became frenzied, for he could barely contain himself at the delightful feeling of your fragile walls pulsing all around his cock and the way you almost growled like an animal when he left small bites on your skin. Pleasure was escalating, rattling your bones so violently your nails dug into the freckled skin of his back. Little crimson drops of blood beaded from the kitten scratches your nails left in their wake. The pleasant pain caused him to give you one meaner thrust in response along with a snarl — Fuck, he liked it. His cock twitched inside you, feeling climax building. Clenching his jaws, Arthur reopened his eyes he had closed a few seconds, backed up a little bit from your neck, and stared at you. Yes, he wanted to watch you. His steel blue eyes burnt with a gleam of madness and blazing love, “You’re so fookin’ beautiful eh. Me little angel. Me future wife.” The spectacle of you bouncing on his lap, covered with a thin layer of sweat glistening on your porcelain skin, and your wild ivory mane all messed up was the most magnificent view he had ever seen. Arthur dived one last time inside of you, all the muscles of his body tensing, and he fell apart. He spilled himself in your pussy with a long raspy moan, his half-closed eyes staring at you during his whole orgasm.

“Please don’t stop, don’t stop!” You yelled.

“Such a hungry little angel, eh. Yell louder.” He teased, still high from his little death. His hips jerked, and he released another rope of thick cum, “Come for your Arthur.”

The sensation of his warm semen filling you was the end of you. Your pleasure finally reached its peak as well. Your thighs trembled on either side of Arthur as his hips slowly roll to accompany your climax. Almost blacking out because of the intensity of your orgasm, you let out one final scream and collapsed in his arms, your body limp. Arthur’s hands gently stroked your back. You hugged him tighter in reply, your breasts crushed against his chest, and stars still dancing behind your eyelids. Locked up in a tight embrace, you were both catching your breath and savoring this moment of pure tenderness. How long did you stay here, firmly gripping each other, sweaty and panting, as if your life depended on it? None of you could tell, for you had both lost the notion of time. After a while, Arthur’s back fell on the mattress again and he pulled you with him. You put your head on his chest, closed your eyes, and smiled.

“Feels better, love?” He inquired, concerned about your well-being. His long fingers grazed your back in a lovely caress. Despite you having both come, Arthur stayed deep inside you for he just loved the sensation of your two bodies making one in the most intimate way possible.

“Definitely… “ You sighed in relief, lulled by his presence under, around, and inside you.

“You know, “ He started, “Maybe you would feel even better if you talked to me about that troubled past of yours. We’ve been together for a while so you know I won’t judge, eh.”

You crossed your arms on his chest and raised your head a little to plunge your eyes into his, “Nosey little gangster.”

“Little? Fook me, yer the little one here.” He teased, one brow raised, “You tiny brat.”

You stuck your tongue out as a reply, which made him laugh. Yeah, you were definitely the brattiest angel God ever created.

“I’ll let you keep my shirt if ya tell me. Sounds like a deal, eh?”

“Deal. You’ve won.” You replied, "I like your shirt too much to say no," Truth be told, what motivated you was not really the shirt itself but the fact you were done bearing the weight of your past all alone. In addition, Arthur had always been completely sincere with you from the day you met. He had been true about his demons, his fear, his flaws. About everything. You definitely owed him the truth, “ Alright… I was living a happy little life in the French Alps when Hughes came.” Your smile vanished from your face at the simple mention of his name, as if you had bitten into a pill of cyanide, “He replaced the town’s priest for a few months. We thought it wouldn’t make much difference but we were wrong. No one saw it coming you know? His words were so smooth that almost everyone was hanging onto his sermons. He was the one who spread the rumors witches were hidden among us. And weeks after weeks, the whole town slipped into insanity. Superstition and fear drove them all to accuse friends, family, or neighbors of concerting with the Devil.” You paused and swallowed the lump in your throat.

Arthur gently slipped one of your ivory strands of hair behind your ear, listening to you carefully.

“Five men came into our home one night, and they assaulted my mom, my dad, and my little sister who was sleeping in their bed. It’s true my mom was a witch, but she used her power to heal the ill and the wounded. No one knew the extent of her abilities, they just believed she was a brilliant herbalist… I was in my own bedroom when it happened so the noise woke me up. I wanted to help them but what could a thirteen years old girl could do against all those strong men?” You bit your lip.

“Take your time, love.” Arthur’s fingers lose themselves in your hair in a tender sign of affection and support.

“I escaped by my bedroom’s windows and hid in a bush. They were looking for me, calling me awful names and… Laughing. Yeah, they laughed as if they were having a fucking hunting party, except I was the bloody prey.” You clenched your jaw and frowned, hatred burning in your sanctified eyes, “They took my family away. I followed them discreetly, in hopes of helping them to escape. But I couldn't.” Fighting against your tears, you buried your face in Arthur’s neck. His arms tightened around your frail body in response. He wanted you to know he was there, “They’ve hung my dad. And they sent many women including, my mom and my sister, to the pyre. She was eight. She was just a fucking kid, Arthur.”

“Bloody hell…” Words were at loss at such awful revelations. He hugged you tighter in a reflex, his instincts wanting to protect that poor frightened little girl who was still crying somewhere in your mind. The little girl who never had a chance to heal.

“I still hear her screams at night. So full of agony that it was hard to believe they came from a human being. Her screams haunt me, along with villagers' chants around the bonfires,"

"Their chants?"

"Burn witch, burn witch, burn." You whispered, shaking like a leaf.

“How did you manage to escape?” His gruff and comforting voice asked. You snuggled a bit more in his arms in response.

“I knew the woods by heart. I walked for days to the village that was at the foot of the mountains and knocked on the first door I saw. An old woman used to live there. She took care of me. But as I grew up, I could not heal from that terrifying night. My mind kept replaying the screams, the laughter, and the chants, to the point it almost drove me crazy. I had to do something to soothe the anger that was burning within. So I waited and waited until the time to avenge my family came. I tracked down the five men that broke into our house and took my family. I hunted them like animals for weeks, instilling fear in them, as they did when they were looking for me. And when they finally died, I left France and tried to build a new life here, in Birmingham. Regarding the rest of the story, I think you already know it. I fell for a gangster and here I am. In your arms.”

“Which is exactly where you belong” He corrected. One of Arthur's hand grabbed your chin and gently forced you to look at him, “I am so sorry, love. So fookin’ sorry. But don’t feel bad for the men you killed… They deserved it — just like Hughes and his colleague. An eye of an eye,” His lips kissed your head with indescribable sweetness, “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again eh. God forgive but I’ll make this city fucking bleed if someone dares to lay a finger upon you ever again,” His other hand stroke the curve of your hips, “I know no one will replace nor bring back your family. But… You have me,” He said awkwardly. As he did, he very lightly rolled his hips under you, causing you to sigh with pleasure for you had kept him warm and loved between your legs during the whole conversation. “You have me for-fucking-ever. And I’ll do my best to heal the pain and save you from your demons.”

You smiled at him, utterly touched by what he had just said. His promise was like a soothing balm on the gaping wound of your heart, “Am I not the one supposed to save you? ”

“We save each other, love.” He whispered, his lips collapsing with yours in a kiss filled with unspoken promises and undying love.

“I love you.” You mumbled between two eager kisses, barely finishing your sentence when Arthur’s lips captured yours again.

“Not as much as I do, love” He mumbled against the corner of your mouth, his mustache grazing your cheek when he did, because he refused to stop devouring your lips even for one second. The whisky taste of his tongue intoxicated you, making you so dizzy you did not understand how he flipped you on your back. Nor how you ended up gently pinned to the bed, the weight of his body on top of you. But it did not matter. All that mattered was the moment. The soft moans and sloppy kisses. The creaking bed and the endless sighs. You made love again— but this time it was more slow and sensual than earlier.

And late at night, when you finally fell asleep in his loving arms, you did not hear the screams anymore. Nor the evil laughter lurking in the shadows. Quite the contrary, you dozed off with a smile on your face and shooting stars filling your head, lulled by the soothing rhythm of Arthur’s heartbeat. His fire was the only one you would let consume you skin to bones.

He was the gasoline.

You were the match.

And if you both burnt,

The whole world would burn with you.

✞ gif by the talented @alicent-targaryen

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Normally, each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone but not this one. It's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.

Tag: @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybridrid @shelbyssins @kxnnxyasdfg @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 81: Mrs. Shelby

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

*Warning: hints at intimacy, protective Thomas

It takes me a while to mentally call myself officially married. Each morning when I wake up I rub the silver ring between my fingers. Sometimes Thomas is still lying next to me. Other times I arise to an empty bed. Fourteen years ago I would have asked where he goes every morning and when to expect his return. I know better now. Every evening is a mystery as to when my husband’s car lights will brighten up the front window, but he graces me with his warm presence each night nonetheless. 

My familie still keeps in touch with phone calls but otherwise allows me privacy for my new life. Conor keeps asking if Thomas treats me right even though my answer is always the same. For now it appears that things have calmed down. Uncle Colon went back to Belfast. He and Arthur have remained quiet since the wedding reception. My hope is that it’s because of a whispered truce.

A few others have begun to send words of congratulations to our recent ceremony. Some I anticipate, like Mr. Solomons. His letter came last week and expressed apologies for not attending, even though the wedding was kept secret. Of course he found out. If Thomas hasn’t told him yet then I’m sure Uncle Colon has given Mr. Solomons a stern warning to keep any gruff business away from me. Naturally, the Jewish gangster is happy for my husband and I. He even went as far as to send a bottle of his own rum as a gift. 

In addition to Mr. Solomon’s letter I also received a message from Zipporah. She is overjoyed to hear of my marriage and begs me to visit her if I ever return to the States. Of course I do wish to return to Brooklyn someday for a visit but my business is here in England. Each passing month brings more news of the Nazi party creeping into conversations. Unfortunately I cannot discuss my business with Zipporah through a vulnerable letter so I use what assuring words I can to promise her that we are organizing aid.

Some letters I do not expect are from some distant associates. The first is May Carleton. Goodness, I never thought she would want to reach out to a woman who holds relations with her ex. Instead I’m surprised by her letter telling me how proud she is. ‘Thomas finally found a woman who can tame him. If you ever need some girl time you know where to find me.’ An appreciated gesture, indeed. I can enjoy Ada’s company to an extent but soon it becomes overbearing for my social battery. When she dropped by for the first time since the wedding to get a look at our official house I thought she was going to talk me to death.

“I like what you’ve done with the place!” She gushed as her eyes lit up at the new trimmed curtains and the fresh tulips decorating the kitchen. “Do you think you might repaint the parlor? The wallpaper looks a tad dull.”

In that moment I sank into the couch and stared at the fireplace. “I have more important things to worry about rather than paint samples.”

The Shelby zuster had strutted over and stopped to give me a cheeky smile, eyeing my belly for any new developments. “Such as romancing my brother?”

I scowled and pretended to swat her prying gaze away. “Hush, Ada!”

The next letter that perplexed me was from Nathaniel Winston. Really? He remembers me? I opened the envelope to read that Uncle Colon recently reached out to him and offered Nathaniel a job. He didn’t disclose the details of the position but it must either pay well or offer adventure. Not much could pull Nathaniel from his sailing career. Maybe he will get to drive his own car after all. The conclusion of the letter is that Nathaniel offers me, his employer’s niece, congratulations, and that I might expect to hear from him or Uncle Colon if any danger arises. How… thoughtful.

The last letter to arrive is from Lizzie. Obviously I didn’t intend to hear any word from another one of Thomas’ past flames but I will say that she does keep to the point. Only one paragraph. One paragraph telling me to watch out for Charlie when he visits, to stay away from her, and to tell Thomas to burn in Hell. In normal circumstances I would reply to this letter with a furious and defensive response. This is no ordinary condition. This is Thomas we’re talking about. Deep in my heart I know that I cannot defend all of his past actions. That day I chose to bury the past by tossing Lizzie’s short letter into the fireplace.

I do my part of “staying safe” by keeping close to the house and always having a Blinder follow me around town when I get groceries. Dílis keeps to his job of guarding me as well. The hond is growing in age but still holds the loyal spirit to stand up for me if anyone’s gaze turns sour.

Just like today.

It’s like any other day, even down to the lingering eyes in the marketplace. Sometimes men try their luck but stop short when they see Isaiah trailing behind me. Other times my escort catches the eye of jealous women who want in on the action… Whatever action their minds cook up. My appearance is modest but I’m sure their imaginations assume otherwise. Do I care? No. I have my husband, something they do not know. Any rumors that pass can roll off me like oil on water. However, that does not stop Isaiah from setting them straight, along with some assistance from Dílis.

Right now I’m picking out fresh apples for an apple crumble. There’s a pair of girls trying to hide behind a rack of potatoes but their whispering is not as subtle.

“That’s her. She used to work for Shelby.”

“Think she’s his type? Looks too lifeless for his kind.”

Humph.

Uh-oh. The grunt behind me means that this isn’t going to be ignored. In the corner of my eye I see Dílis take a seat next to me just as Isaiah cooly strides over to peer at the girls, who have each sucked in a breath and are watching him blankly. Should I stop him? This doesn’t have to get violent-

“Excuse me?” Isaiah inquires casually but his voice grows deep. “Are you referring to this lovely woman here?” 

Both women’s wide eyes flash between him and I, gagging on humiliation as they try to answer. 

“Um- I mean-”

“We, uh-”

Isaiah puts his hands on one of each of their shoulders and leans closer. “This here’s Verena. Verena is a valued employee.” He jerks his head in my direction. “You talk smack about her, you go through us.”

The girls, still speechless, nod shakily. All I do is stand stone-faced and silent, subtly nodding to the eager German Shepherd next to me. They get the message. There’s no need to draw my gun.

“Oi!” 

A man’s voice shouts from a distance and we see a rugged-looking bloke in a secondhand suit rush over. He sees me watching the scene play out and takes a sloppy swing at me. I jump to dodge it and trip into an empty crate.

“Ah!” I hiss as the edge of the wooden crate pokes into my side. That’s gonna leave a mark.

“What you think you’re doing?” I hear the man bark. “Threatening my girls?”

He talks the talk but that’s all this man is. Thomas could take him out in one punch. Isaiah notices this too and releases the women. He grips the man’s jacket and shoves him against one of the wagons, leaning him over as the man becomes a blubbering mess.

“Oh, I’m threatening your girls ‘cause everyone’s gonna know not to look down on this woman right here. By order of the Peaky fook’n Blinders!”

Dílis’ ears perk up at the familiar name and he lets out a low snarl. The mystery man hears it and his eyes go wild at the sight of the growling hond. He keeps trying to wrestle out of Isaiah’s grasp but it’s no use.

“Just for what you did I should cut up that gutless face of yours. But I will let you off this time so long as you tell any busybody to keep their eyes to themselves.” The young Blinder bares his teeth. “Got that, eh?”

“Yes! Yes!” The klootzak pleads sloppily.

“Good. Now piss off.”

Isaiah gives him one last kick in the behind and the man takes off, followed by his pair of squeeing harlots. No one else suspects a thing. The public still believes I’m a distant bachelorette. After the noise dies down and the few onlookers carry on, Isaiah strides back to me.

“Sorry about that, Mrs. Shelby,” he whispers lowly enough so only I can hear. “Are you alright?”

I wave it off and begin walking back to the car. “Sticks and stones. No need to tell Thomas.”

Isaiah knows not to argue but I can tell he still wants to. He knows me the best out of all the Blinders aside from Arthur and he knows the respect I should get. That respect is something I am willing to sacrifice for my safety. Not only my safety, but my future children’s safety too. Despite Ada’s constant nagging I have no news to give… yet. Thomas and I certainly have been going at it these first few months but nothing has happened yet. Honestly I’m glad that we have gotten the chance to enjoy each other this long. Thomas is more than patient with me and struggles to keep from going too hard once he’s lost his mind, but I love those moments. It's when he's most open. Most vulnerable. Another moment might wait for me tonight.

When Isaiah drops me off it’s close to sunset. I do quick work to prepare the apple crumble and set the table for dinner. Now it’s already dark out. Thomas should be home soon. 

I slip into the dim bedroom and begin undressing. What outfit should Thomas come home to this time-? Oh no. Damn!

My thoughts crash to a halt when I catch a glimpse of my half-bare figure in the mirror. There’s a bruise. A small bruise. Fine, a larger bruise. From the crate. Damn! It’s too dark to hide with makeup. Forget about trying to look pretty. Thomas is going to take one look and demand to know what happened.

Dílis, who's lying next to the bed, lets out a whine when he sees me getting wound up. I take a slow breath and reach for a robe. Maybe I’ll tell him I’m too tired tonight? That’s never happened before but there’s always a first- Oh, who am I kidding? I’ll never get too tired of him. Maybe if I keep the lights dimmed? Nothing too noticeable-

“What the fuck is that?”

Crumbs. 

In response to Thomas’ sudden arrival I grip the vanity and go stiff as a board. In the mirror I see he’s still wearing his suit from the office. I keep myself facing away from him. Did he really see it? Maybe I can distract him.

I push away from the vanity and turn towards my husband with a clueless smile. His face is anything but calm. Thomas keeps trying to peek at my covered torso while also scanning my face for signs of distress. I begin to inch towards the door and plan on escaping to the kitchen.

“What’s what?” I ask in a sultry voice.

“Don’t mess with me, Verena Shelby,” Thomas grunts and reaches for me. 

When he catches my arm the robe slips, allowing the dark bruise to be on full display. Thomas’ jaw tightens and he pulls me in to protectively wrap his arms around me. Thomas runs his fingers over the wound and it’s useless to keep it from him now. His gentle touch almost makes me forget how upset he is.

“What happened?” He growls, turning his head to look down at me.

I keep a blank face. “Just a clumsy trip into the kitchen counter.”

His frigid blue eyes narrow. He doesn’t believe it.

“Try again.”

“I got caught in a fight. But it’s okay-!” I try to explain quickly.

Thomas lets me go and reaches for the pistol under his jacket. “What did they do?”

He’s going to keep ignoring me until I tell him. “Some guy… His girlfriends were gossiping about me so Isaiah stepped in to end it. There was a fight, I stumbled into a crate.”

The gangster keeps silent and cold as he checks his gun before heading for the door. “I’m going to have a word with him.”

“Thomas, no.” I plead and grab his jacket to pull him back. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I can handle my own battles, Thomas.”

He stops pulling away from me. Thomas’ frown is replaced with the ghost of a smile and he reaches up to cup my face.

“There’s the American woman I married,” Thomas chuckles but then gets serious again. “You shouldn’t have to fight."

He’s calmer now. His hands are trailing up and down my back rather than staying clenched. He knows that he can’t openly threaten someone for disturbing his wife because, well, I’m not supposed to be his wife. I have the same predicament when I cannot publicly defend my husband.

I reach up to grip his sturdy arms. “I’m American. It’s in my blood. Stop worrying so much.”

Thomas quirks a brow. “We both know that’s not going to happen.”

“He and the women were already dealt their punishment,” I reason.

He still looks concerned and eyes the bruise again. “Are you sure it doesn’t hurt too much?”

“Yes, it’s fine! We both know I've been dealt with worse before.” I move his face away from the wound to make him look at me directly. “Let’s just sit down for a nice dinner, hm? How’s that sound?”

Thomas purses his lips and mulls it over. When he makes his decision he twirls me around so that my back is pressed against his toned chest… amongst something else.

“Alright,” his hot voice murmurs into my ear. “We’ll have dinner… and you’re sitting on my lap the entire time.” 

There’s a familiar urge growing. Nothing crazy or mindless like other stories of lovers I’ve heard of. It’s a desire, a deep want to be as close to Thomas as I can be. He might see this as another form of arousal but I connect it to something more spiritual. Like an invisible rope pulling me towards him. I’m still coming to terms with being looked at like this. I’m unfamiliar with it and shy away from being the center of sexual watchfulness. Nevertheless, Thomas’ suggestive tone sends my pulse racing.

Thomas knows it too. Despite my attempt to keep a straight face I cannot suppress the mellowing look in my eyes. When he recognizes it he snakes an arm around my torso to pull me flush against him so that I cannot flee from his attention.

“That should not be turning me on but you’ve somehow managed it,” I mutter, my breath noticeably hitching.

“Trust me, love. You’re getting the full treatment tonight.”

Thomas kneels down to lift me up and I’m once again pressed against the dominant, physical sign of his own stimulation. How he can keep himself so collected in this state is beyond me, however he does tense up when I lean into his touch.

“From the looks of things I say you might not be able to wait until after dinner.”

My husband merely gives me a plotting smirk. “Good things come to those who wait.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay now you’re using my words against me.”

“Oh, who’s eager now, eh?” Thomas teases and carries me over to the closet. “I promise the wait will be worth it. Now go pick out something nice to wear.”

Ruff! Dílis encourages from his spot on the floor.

My giddy thoughts of picking an outfit return and I venture into the row of dresses. Even though we cannot eat out as a couple in public I can still have a presentable wardrobe to please my husband. Tonight I’m thinking… black, decorated with a gold trim to represent the upcoming autumn leaves. I remove the article from the rack and pull it over my head-

“Where’s your ring?” Thomas’ muffled voice comes through the silky fabric.

My…? Oh! 

“Oh my God!” I gasp and dash out of the closet as if I’ve been lit on fire. 

The ring is still where I left it. Placed carefully next to the Bible on my nightstand. I slip it on and look back at Thomas in a panicked state. He approaches slowly and keeps watching me.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot- I went into town and when I go out I take it off so no one- Mhm!”

He breaks off my rambling with a gentle kiss. “Sweetheart, I know you didn’t remove it to offend me. It’s symbolic. We can only be husband and wife in private.”

“Yes. But I still feel awful,” I groan. “That’s a symbol of your love and it feels wrong to hide it.”

“You still wear the necklace I gave you,” Thomas points out.

I open my mouth to respond but no words come out. My eyes travel down to my neck where the silver cross remains clasped on at all times. I’d forgotten about it, actually. It’s become a part of me now.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

“Then that can substitute for the ring,” Thomas conquers simply, running the silver chain through his calloused fingers. “No one will know but us. If you need to remind yourself, I will always be draped around your pale, beautiful neck.”

He’s not upset. My breathing calms down and I allow myself to finish dressing before any more surprises lead to hasty outbursts. The dark dress hides the signs of today’s incident. The whole time Thomas stays quiet and watches from the shadows. One might assume the room is empty. It’s not until I go to stand in front of the vanity to touch up my hair and wipe the sweat from my forehead that he stalks closer. In a split second I look up to find him standing posterior to me, admiring the reflection as one does an intricate painting.

“Delectable,” he breathes, running a hand over my shoulder. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

“Thank you, dear husband,” I beam and take his hand to lead him towards the door. “Now let’s get going. I’m starving.”

There’s a low, seductive chuckle from behind. “So am I, Mrs. Shelby.”

@sherbitdibdab @meadows5

[prettybillycore]

shot through the heart || ch.1 || billy hargrove x shelby!reader

Pairing(s): Shelby!Reader x Billy Hargrove, Minor Thomas Shelby x Grace Burgess

Universe: Peaky Blinders + Stranger Things

Summary: You, one of the younger members of the Shelby clan, are just trying to find your place in the world when suddenly you are shot. Instead of dying, you are flashed-forward in time to 1984 where you meet people who will change your life forever. Will you ever be able to return home? What caused you to time-travel in the first place?

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: canon typical violence, swearing

A/N: I know this one is in second place on the poll I’m doing, but I was just so excited about it I started with it. The one in first place is probably going to be a one or two shot where as this is definitely going to be a series so the first place winner should be out soon!

Read here below the cut or on AO3~!

Being a Shelby came with a lot of expectations. There was no way around that. Especially as a woman you felt the pressure of your last name pressing on your shoulders. Being one of the youngest in the Shelby clan didn’t help your situation. You were freshly sixteen and your brothers never let you forget it. It was only recently that you were allowed to start sitting in on family meetings; Tommy made sure of it once he felt like you were ready. Aunt Pol was against it. The tension between the two of them over it could be cut with a knife. Of course, that didn’t really matter at the current moment. “I called this meeting because I got

some news. From Ireland,” Arthur said as he drank from a flask, “Scud-Boat and Lovelock got back from Belfast last night. They were buying a stallion to cover their mares.” Arthur gestured at the two of them and they confirm this, he continues. “They were in a pub in the Shankhill

Road yesterday and there was a copper handing out these.”

You were handed a flyer, but before you could even begin reading it, John ripped it out of your hands, “If you’re over five feet and can fight, come to Birmingham.”

“They’re recruiting Protestant Irishmen to come over here as Specials,” Arthur said.

“To do what?” Your older sister asked. Though it seemed quite obvious to you. 

“To clean up the city, Ada,” Tommy replied. Exactly as you thought. “He’s a Chief Inspector. The last four years he’s been clearing the IRA out of Belfast…”

“How do you know so bloody much?” Arthur asked. This also seemed quite obvious to you. 

“‘Cause I asked the coppers on our payroll,” Tommy explained. Again, exactly as you thought. You might have been one of the youngest people in the room, but you weren’t dull. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Arthur questioned.

Tommy paused for a moment and pursed his lips. “I’m telling you.”

“So why are they sending him to Birmingham?” Aunt Pol asked. A silence fell over the room. Arthur takes a large swig of his drink. He clearly has no idea how to answer her question. Tommy steps up as the head of the meeting.

“There have been a lot of strikes at the Austen works and the BSA factory lately. Papers are talking about sedition. Revolution. I reckon it’s Communists he’s after,” Tommy and Aunt Pol look at each other intensely. You knew they were the real powerhouses of the family, despite Arthur being the oldest of you Shelby siblings. 

“So this copper will leave us alone, right?” Aunt Pol asked. 

“There are Irishmen in Green Lanes who left Belfast to get away from him. They say Catholic men who crossed him used to disappear in the night,” Tommy answered.

 You eyed John carefully. He was clearly very bothered by the idea of this copper coming to town. You weren’t exactly at ease with the idea either. “Yeah but we ain’t IRA. We bloody fought for the King. Anyway, we’re Peaky Blinders. We’re not scared of coppers. If they come for us, we’ll cut them a smile each.” 

“You’re right,” Arthur agreed. 

You notice the snickers of some of the younger men in the room, but what catches your eye the most is Tommy’s hand carefully balling up the flyer until it’s tightly spiraled in his palm. “So, Arthur, is that it?”

Arthur’s gaze moved around the room, “What do you think, Aunt Pol?”

She sighed, the cigarette in her hand was still smoldering. “This family does everything open. You have nothing more to say to this meeting, Thomas?”

“No…” His eyes flickered between you, Ada, and Aunt Pol, “Nothing that’s women’s business.”

You rolled your eyes at that comment. “This whole bloody enterprise was ‘women’s business’ while you boys were away at war. What’s changed?” Aunt Pol snapped.

“We came back,” Tommy answered honestly. With that, the meeting started to disperse and you let out a large breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You looked toward the door and saw Finn peaking in from the other room, much like you used to do when you were younger. He backed away as soon as you made eye contact, but you still found it cute. That is, until you were drawn  back to reality. 

“I still don’t like you sitting in on these meetings, Y/n. It really would be best if you were to stay with Finn,” Aunt Pol scolded. You sunk down in your seat and rolled your eyes again. 

“Why must you insist on treating me like a child?” You asked. 

“Because you are one,” she answered.

“Leave her alone Polly. She helped out with the business while we were all gone in the war, it’s only right she gets a seat at the table now,” Tommy said, inserting himself into the conversation. 

“Thank you, Tommy,” you replied before turning your attention back to Aunt Pol. “I know I am young, but I am not a little kid like Finn. I am almost 18 now. You have to recognize that I am growing up, Aunt Polly. I deserve my seat at this table just as much as anyone else in this family.”

John and Arthur were snickering at you in the background. Aunt Pol hushed them with one dirty look. Her face did not soften when she looked back at you. “I know you want to help, but you have so many years ahead of you. You don’t have to be involved in the family business right now so why should you be? Why not wait as long as possible? You only picked up a gun for the first time last year and thank god you haven’t had to shoot anyone with it. You’re already in danger by being a Shelby, it only gets worse the more entangled you become with the business side of things.”

“I see your point Aunt Pol, but I’m not giving up my spot at this damn table after I just got it. You don’t give Ada a hard time and she’s sitting here.”

Ada shook her head. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“I will bring you into this if I damn well please,” you fired back. John was back to laughing, but you really weren’t sure what he was finding so funny about all of this. He was quieted down by a glare from Tommy. 

“You are a lot younger than Ada. I don’t think that’s a fair comparison,” Aunt Pol continued. “I have your best interest at heart, Y/n. I am only doing my best to look out for you in the long run.”

“I think leave it for now, Aunt Pol. This bickering is getting us nowhere,” Tommy interjected. Your voices hushed. Aunt Pol’s face had a look of annoyance written all over it. You were more frustrated than anything else. Everyone began to leave the room, the air a little heavier than before. 

| < ♥️ > |

You were laying on your stomach across Ada’s bed, your legs kicking the air without a care in the world. Your journal was open in front of you and a pen rested in one of your hands. Ada sat at a small vanity on the other side of the room. She was carefully applying a bit of makeup. It was much later now and the sun was getting ready to set. You were forbidden from going out at night except to change houses, while Ada could do whatever she pleased. You guessed she was going to do something Tommy wouldn’t approve of, you could feel it in your bones. “Who are you getting all dolled up to see?” You asked. You knew you might have to push a little bit to actually get her to tell you anything, but you still thought it was worth a try to ask.

Ada finished applying lipstick before she even thought about answering you. “It’s none of your business who I’m going to see.” She popped her lips together to spread around the product. “Just go back to writing in your journal. I’m sure you’ve got your eyes set on some boy you’ve met out and about.”

You made a ‘tsk’ sound with your teeth. “Yeah right, like that’s at all what I’m writing about in my journal. The only one in this room with her eyes on boys, is you, Ada!” You giggled and slammed your journal shut. You walked over to her and placed your hands on her shoulders. You looked at her in the mirror, “Come on, who are you going to see?”

Ada rolled her eyes at you. “You can’t tell anyone, yeah?”

“I swear on my life, this stays between you and me!” You stuck out your pinkie and she looked up at you. 

“Really? A pinkie promise?” Ada asked. 

“Yes. I pinkie promise I won’t tell a single soul who you’re going to see.” Ada’s face contorted into a soft smile as she grabbed your pinkie with hers. 

“Fine, fine. I’m going to see Freddie Thorne. We’ve been seeing each other for a little while now, but we’ve been keeping it a secret because you know how Tommy is. Not another soul can know. You hear me?”

“You can’t break a pinkie promise, Ada. It’s an unbreakable vow,” you replied before taking your hand back. “I never expected him to be your type, but good on you! I am glad you’ve found someone that makes you happy. I hope I find someone who makes me happy one day.”

You nearly mumbled the last part. You flopped back onto Ada’s bed, your back touching the mattress. “You will. You’re young yet, Y/n.”

“Why is there always talk of me being so young? Why can’t there be talk of how grown up I’ve gotten since the war?” You huffed, puffing every last bit of air out of your chest. 

Ada stood up from her chair and laughed lightly. “You’ve grown a lot, but you’ve still got a lot of growing to do. Come on, I’ll walk you home on my way to meet Freddie.”

“You don’t think Tommy will find it suspicious that you’re all dressed up to drop me at home?” You asked curiously as you sat up and began to gather your things. 

“Please, it’s too early for Tommy to be home. You’ll be lucky if he’s in before you fall asleep tonight,” She replied ruffling your hair. You knew she was right, Tommy was probably out at the pub. You were now old enough to set foot in bars, but your brothers all agreed that you should stay far away from all the bars in town except for the Garrison. Even with the exception, you were still only allowed to go there during the day time. This left you alone at night at home quite frequently since you lived with just Tommy. You’ve been living with him ever since he returned from war. You wouldn’t have it any other way, even if night time was sometimes scary and lonely. “Let’s go, I haven’t got all night,” Ada rushed you. 

You quickly gathered the rest of your things and threw them into your bag. “Ready!”

“Okay, let’s get you home.”

| < ♥️ > |

You woke up the next day expecting a quiet, normal morning. What you weren’t expecting was Arthur coming to your door, covered in blood. You frantically gathered the family. You met in your usual meeting room as Tommy went to go get a bottle of rum. Ada and Aunt Pol were about to start tending to Arthur’s wounds, but you couldn’t bare to watch. You were picking at the skin around your fingernails and biting the softest part of your lip hard enough that it started to bleed. Aunt Pol was wrapping Arthur’s finger while you leaned against a wall. “John, wipe the blood out of his eye.”

“Since when did you give orders?” John asked.

“I’m a trained nurse,” Ada replied.

“Don’t make me laugh, it hurts my face,” Arthur interjected. He was, in fact, laughing.

“I bloody am,” Ada continued.

“You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling,” John teased. 

“Not before learning how to stop somebody from choking,” Ada answered.

“I’m not bloody choking, am I?” Arthur shot back. 

“You will be when I wrap this cloth round your neck,” Ada said. The mood takes a downward shift as Tommy entered the room with a whole bottle of rum. 

“Let me see him,” he said walking up to Arthur. “Hmm. Well, have this.” He gave Arthur the bottle he was holding. Arthur takes a long drink before Tommy says, “Give me that,” and sets the bottle on the table in front of him. He take a hot, wet cloth and begins to clean Arthur’s skin. You dig your nails into your palms at the sound of Arthur’s painful moans. “You’re alright.”

“He said Mr Churchill sent him to Birmingham,” Arthur started. “National interest, he said. He said there’d been a robbery. He said he wants us to help him.”

“We don’t help coppers,” John stated flatly.

“He knew all about our war records. He said we’re patriots like him. He said he wants us to be his eyes and ears. I told him we’d have a family meeting and a vote. Why not? We have no truck with communists. Or Fenians.” Arthur stared at Tommy. Tommy said nothing, but is clearly off put by the idea of helping the new copper that has come to town. You could tell something else about this situation was bothering him too, you just couldn’t put your finger on exactly what it was. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Polly, what is wrong with him lately?”

“If I knew, I’d buy the cure from Compton’s Chemists,” Aunt Pol joked. Tommy grabbed his coat and left the meeting before anyone could take a vote. 

| < ♥️ > |

After everything in the morning with Arthur, you decided that you needed a drink. You were not one for drinking usually, that one was usually all your brothers, but something about this whole situation just screamed I need a glass of whsikey. So you found yourself in the Garrison in the late afternoon. The sun hadn’t gone down yet, so you were in the clear with Tommy’s rule about you only being there during the day. You walked in and all the eyes that turned toward the door quickly turned away, all except the eyes of a new barmaid that you did not recognize. You heard Harry, the owner of the bar, tell the new barmaid that whatever you wanted was on the house. You smiled politely at her as you pulled up a seat at the bar. You ordered a whiskey sour from her and as she handed you your drink you asked for her name. “Grace. My name is Grace.”

You smiled back at her and took a sip of your drink. “Y/n, Y/n Shelby. Lovely to meet you.”

| < ♥️ > |

Somewhere between the several whiskey sours you had and your new relationship with Grace you found yourself standing on one of the bar tables with her, singing. It was something that you use to do in school, before the war, but hadn’t done in such a long time. You were grinning such a wide grin that your cheeks were beginning to hurt. 

“I am just a young girl.

I have just come over,

Over from the country where they do things big,

And amongst the boys I have got myself a lover,

And since I have a lover,

I don’t care a fig.

The boy I love is up in the gallery 

The boy I love is looking–”

You stopped singing when you noticed Tommy come in the door with your brothers. You suddenly felt very exposed standing high up on a table. 

“At me

Can’t you see him standing there?

Waving his handkerchief

As merry as a robin that sings on the tree.” Grace finished the song by herself. You felt bad, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anymore words. The grin was gone from your rosey cheeks. It was replaced by a sorry frown aimed toward your shoes. 

Harry walked over to Tommy, “We haven’t had singing in here since the war.”

“Why do you think that is, Harry?” Tommy spoke plainly. “Y/n, it’s dark outside. Time to go home for the night.” You nodded. Tommy walked over and gave you a hand off the table. Your feet being on the ground again felt like you were standing a boat. The alcohol in your system was way more than you were use to. “Jesus how much did you drink?” Tommy mumbled. You tossed some “sorrys” in his direction, but he wasn’t listening. He just headed out the door to take you home. 

| < ♥️ > |

Monday came before you even realized it had. You spent the rest of your weekend recovering from the time you had at the bar. You were feeling bright and well Monday afternoon and were hanging around where your family normally does business when Arthur came yelling for Tommy. “It bloody won!” Tommy is unphased by Arthur’s sudden appearance in front of him. You were sitting across from Tommy, just present to take in the whole interaction. “Monaghan Boy bloody won!”

“And word will spread. So next time we do the powder trick it won’t just be the Garrison that’ll bet on the horse, it’ll be the whole of Small Heath. And you know what? The horse will win again. And the third time we do it we’ll have the whole of Birmingham betting on it. A thousand quid bet on the magic horse. And that time, when we are ready, the horse will lose.” Tommy snapped the book in front of him shut. “Think about it.” You and Arthur looked at each other as Tommy left the room. “Bloody hell.”

-TO BE CONTINUED-

_____________________________________

TAGS: @tatumrileyslover @rubybinxx @haleypearce

[peakyswritings]

My Father’s Daughter || Masterlist

My father is a good man. Sort of.

He is good when I compare him to

His own father, and that's enough. I hope.

My father and I are more alike than

I'd care to admit, and whenever I feel

Pure rage, I know I am my father's daughter.

Summary: Originally born Blackburn, Rosalind didn’t know she was a Shelby until she was brought to the Shelby Clan’s door at the age of twelve, after the tragic death of her mother, in 1919. Despite the family’s initial wariness, Arthur had no doubt: the girl in front of him was his daughter.

And the past he had tried so hard to bury was coming back to haunt him.

MEET ROSALIND SHELBY

A/N: the quote under the moodboard doesn’t belong to me, I found it on Pinterest, so credits to the owner.

Putting this also here cause I think I haven’t been as clear as I wanted to when I posted the first chapter, since it created a bit of confusion🙈 This series starts from the ending. The first chapter is set in season 6, then, from the second on, I’m going back to 1919 to explore how things turned out the way they turned out.

Also, each chapter can be read as a standalone.

CH.1: Time to say goodbye

[theshelbyslimited]

MY HEART FOR THIS 🥺 THIS IS WHAT ARTHUR TRULY DESERVED 😭 you never fail Angel K!!!

omg K congrats on the 3.5k!! that's amazing babes and im so happy for you!! I hope i didn't miss this but if I did please ignore this ask 💕 could you do "are you happy right now?" 8 in 5 (in case i messed up the sentence) with arthur?? maybe a cute fluffy one? or a slight angst? it could go either way so do whatever you want is right for the prompt! I didn't see him with this prompt on the list but if it was lemme know and i can change my prompt. congrats again!! ✨️🎉

Thanks so much for sending this in, Jay @anotherblinder ! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write! I’m happy that I’m able to end this celebration off with some Arthur after not writing him for a bit. I decided to go with fluffy for this one. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Can’t Think of a Happier Moment

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: pregnancy

Word Count: 728

Summary: Arthur finally manages to clearly communicate his emotions in the moment where it’s needed most.

Arthur was able to see it in her eyes the second she came to a stop in front of him. She’d asked him to be home when she got back and he made sure of it, not caring if it meant leaving the Garrison before Tommy even got there. His brother would understand. His wife came first.

“Alright, what is it?” he asked, wanting to get right into what she wanted to tell him.

“What is what?” she responded with her own question.

“Why’d ya call me home? Got something to tell me?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Bold of you to assume such a thing, Arthur Shelby,” she couldn’t help but giggle, “maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed in an instant. That surely couldn’t have been the only reason she pulled him away from the Garrison, from business, right? “I love ya, darlin’, and I love spending time with you, but couldn’t that have waited until after I finished what I was doin’ at the Garrison?” he came out and asked, not yet sure if doing so would equate to stepping on a bear trap.

And (Y/N) could have made it into one. But she didn’t. She was too excited at the moment and actually did have some news to share with him. “I was over at Pol’s when I called…” she began. Arthur nodded, showing her that he was listening and that she could continue. “She’d just told me something, and I could have shared it on the phone, but I decided that telling you in person would be better.”

“And what is that?” he asked after a few moments had passed and she hadn’t shared anything else.

“You know that Polly’s got a gift, right?” she started off with another question.

“She’s got many,” he agreed.

“Well she told me something…” At this point, (Y/N) herself wasn’t sure why she was continuing to beat around the bush on this. He was clearly invested in the conversation. Hell, he’d skipped out on his brother because she told him that she had something to tell him. Hanging onto the secret just built up the excitement inside of her even more. She hoped he’d feel the same.

“What’d she tell you, love?”

“She told me that…that you and I…” she paused, taking a deep breath as her smile grew, “we’re gonna have a baby, Arthur.”

At first Arthur just blinked. It took a few moments for the information to settle in; for it to actually click in his mind. And when it did, a tidal wave of words came tumbling out of his mouth. “She said that…she, she thought that, no, she knew that you were…that we’re going to…holy shit, you’re, you’re pregnant, (Y/N).”

“I am,” she nodded, speaking in a soft voice.

“Holy fucking shit,” he breathed, talking to himself more than anything. There was a whole flurry of different emotions coursing through him at the moment. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, taking a pause to collect himself before looking up again. His eyes immediately found hers, and he couldn’t help but let a smile form on his face. He tipped his head slightly, his heart hammering in his chest. “Pregnant,” he breathed again.

“Yes,” (Y/N) response came in a similar tone, tears welling up in her eyes. “Are you happy right now?” she just had to ask him, wanting to know if he was feeling the same excitement that she was.

“I can’t think of a happier moment in my life, love,” he wasted no time in telling her, his smile growing. (Y/N) noticed that his eyes were practically twinkling. He held her gaze for a moment before his eyes dropped to her stomach. No bump was present, but he knew that his child was there. “Can I?” he asked her then, his hands inching closer to her frame.

“Yes, Arthur,” she couldn’t help but softly laugh at his hesitance. Her heart swelled with love as he let out a soft chuckle and placed his hands against her stomach, gently caressing it.

“Our baby…” he trailed off, looking back up at her again.

“Our baby,” she affirmed, lifting one of her hands to rest against his neck before she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

*tags in reblogs so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

[divinekangaroo]

falling - pettiot - Peaky Blinders (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

PART ONE - DAY ONE

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9

PART TWO - MONTH ONE (Or Maybe Month Two, Or Three)

Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17 | Ch 18

PART THREE - YEAR ONE (Or So)

Ch 19 | Ch 20 | Ch 21 | Ch 22 | Ch 23 | Ch 24 | Ch 25 | Ch 26 | Ch 27

CODA - ENDLESS

Ch 28 | Ch 29 | Ch 30 | Ch 31 | Ch 32 | Ch 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 |

A Modern AU take on Tommy's immediate return from military service, and the period between his demobilisation and the start of S1.

(Tags shall be progressively updated)

.

Tommy Shelby/Lizzie Stark, Tommy Shelby/Freddie Thorne, Arthur Shelby, Polly Grey, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Johnny Dogs, Various Lees, John Shelby's Children, Mr Zhang, Mai Zhang (S1E1 Red Dust Girl), Sergeant Moss, Esme Lee, Jeremiah Jesus, Danny Whizz-Bang Owen, Vicente Changretta, Matteo (S4 Mafia Lieutenant), Zilpha Lee, Alfie Solomons, Mrs Shelby, Darby Sabini, Charles Strong, Curly, Finn Shelby, Oswald Mosley | Alternative Universe, Modern AU (ish), more tags at the link

[sogno-ao3]

thoughts on cny/wedding arc, still waters ch. 48-56

I would characterize this arc as primarily about (1) the slow intersection of their worlds, especially Tommy's incursion into Mollie's sphere, and (2) Mollie allowing herself more and more to think of Tommy as not just an employer, not just a friend, but perhaps someone she might even love.

Slow intersection of worlds

Up until this arc, Mollie has mostly existed in Tommy's world, in his house; she's met various members of his family in a personal setting (e.g., the christening), she's been a part of Peaky Blinder machinations whether she intended to or not, but Tommy has not had an equivalent experience yet. This arc provides him with that: visiting the tailor shop to learn more about Mollie's life, the Chinese New Year (CNY) dinner, and finally, culminating into the wedding featuring the full cast of her world.

In Ch. 48, when her mother and Song give her a lecture about not getting close to Tommy, Mollie has a little spasm of rebellion and she tells a fib that she had already invited Tommy to the CNY dinner... on the balance, Mollie is a good person, but one can also argue that she often lies (by omission) and this fib highlights this habit, providing a fascinating parallel to Tommy's selective dishonesty. She knows there is a different Tommy than the one they perceive--and she can't help but want her family to meet and observe him in a more quotidian setting.

I initially dreaded writing Ch. 50, as I had trouble imagining what would transpire between Mollie's parents and Tommy. In the end, I ended up dividing it into a kids' table (Song, Mollie, and Tommy) and a grown-ups' table (Mollie's parents, Jie, and Wan), and building on the notion that Mollie's parents would feel rather uncertain taking the lead with interacting with Tommy.

At first, Mollie's parents are uncomfortable and not sure how to approach.

My mother raised her eyebrows, glancing towards the misshapen plate of apples on the table. "Mr. Shelby is a guest, he can relax," she said.

Thomas shook his head. "It's all right, as your daughter says, my knife handling skills are lacking and I must improve," he said, intent on the apple in his hands.

My mother just gave me a puzzled look and I shrugged, smiling at her. She thought it was best not to engage further.

Even though Mollie's parents have been withdrawn, they have been observing him carefully and looking out for his needs as a guest. Usually, "Tommy Shelby with a knife" inspires panic; however, the scene Mollie's mother witnesses is disturbingly domestic and calm, and perhaps, even a little comical.

Thomas carried the fruit plate out to the dining table, and seemed bemused to have some awkward thanks from my parents. From their quick glances, I knew they also noted his suit jacket had now been taken off and a small pomegranate stain was on his rolled-up white cuff. They cautiously began a trite, stilted conversation about suiting, which turned into another conversation on how to wrangle suppliers.

The first sentence calls back to Ch. 39: "I sat on the armchair opposite him, thinking of what Thomas had been as a child and the circumstances that had been thrust upon him to become an involuntary protector and guardian to his siblings, even to Arthur. An affectionate older brother, to whom no affection had been returned in his later years." Tommy, unused to straightforward expressions of appreciation, is innocently pleased. Next, Mollie's parents finally feel comfortable enough to strike up a conversation, showing how much progress they've made vis-a-vis their perspective on Tommy.

In addition to introducing Tommy to Mollie's family, the CNY dinner also serves as a way for Mollie to introduce Chinese culture to him, another important intersection of their worlds. He proves to be patient and willing to listen, which would not have been the case earlier in the work; hints of this arise in their first interactions where he asks her to do laundry, and when they have the family meeting in Ch. 30. In those chapters, Mollie is still a roughly drawn sketch in his mind, informed more by what he thinks he knows about her, rather than how she directly presents herself.

Ch. 51 is an interlude into Tommy's world again, this time by visiting his mother's grave. Tommy has finally let her into the deepest depths of his pain, and cries in front of her. Mollie calls it his "voluntary surrender"--who or what he surrenders to is up for interpretation; Mollie does not take a stance. I do not have a definitive answer, either.

Ch. 54-56 are the wedding chapters. Mollie and Tommy have been increasingly cocooned away in their private world of softness and warmth, but as Mollie senses, it is an untenable state, and she responds by inviting Tommy into her life, little by little. Tommy is less attuned to this truth due to a variety of reasons. The nice reason: he's a hopeless romantic. The awful reason: he's selfish. He assumes that he could monopolize her time like he does when they're alone together, and that she is, undoubtedly, falling in love with him... but then at the wedding, he's plagued with doubts: she's surrounded by loving friends and family, and of course, there's a new rival who is her perfect match in every single way.

Ossi slots so easily into Mollie's life, getting along with her friends and family instantly. It goes on: he's in the same age group as her, shares the same heritage, is genuinely empathetic and caring, is intelligent, comes from a wealthy family, and is the most handsome man in the entire work (I said what I said). Mollie feels quite comfortable with him as well, immediately bantering with him, and letting him hug her twice when it took Tommy... 51 chapters.

Tommy is tortured by this, and there are small moments where one can observe the vicissitudes of his emotions:

Though his eyes searched my face, his body was motionless, the planes on his face severe. He finally spoke.

"How jealously they keep you."

This is the first time they speak at the wedding, and he is brittle, like glass just about to shatter.

He bent his head, gingerly kissing the tips of my fingers. That soft look through his lashes, irresistible in its surrender, was something that I had only ever seen when we were alone together.

Yet, after Mollie asks him to dance, he softens again.

Those eyes that I thought had been icy were now liquid, ringed by deep, tired lines. There was no tension left in his face, from the corners of his eyes to his jaw, to the soft wave of his hair across his forehead. He was not Thomas Shelby of the Peaky Blinders, he was just Tommy. Tommy, in love, in reverence, in devotion.

When they do finally dance together, the same thing occurs: Tommy is initially miserable but inevitably, he melts. He loves her above all else, and will endure pain to be close to her, even for a few moments. (One of my favorite foreshadowing lines is in Ch. 33: "We repeated this dance over the next few days, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.")

Tommy as someone to love

Since Ada revealed Tommy's love for her in Ch. 46, Mollie has been pondering what her feelings towards Tommy are. However, due to her romantic inexperience and her closed-off personality, she finds it hard to verbalize her feelings, even when we are following along in the first-person. Because of this, it is also important to look at the clues in her actions as well as any direct thoughts.

"So, I hear that Cara also requested that you make her a dress for May's wedding?" I said, not wanting to distract Thomas from trying to raise a piece of chicken to his mouth [...]

"I'll be there," he said, putting his chopsticks on the table. I fetched him another piece of chicken, placing it neatly into his bowl [...]

Picking up food and putting it into someone's bowl is a sign of great affection and care in many East Asian cultures. Personally, situations where I would do this would include seeing some relatives after a long time, someone's birthday, someone who has been sick... it's not a gesture that one would do every day in a normal situation.

Additionally, even though she teases his apple peeling skills, she eats it without complaint. This is a play on the East Asian stereotype where East Asians may not vocally admit their love for you, but show it through acts of service such as preparing fruit.

When visiting the grave of Tommy's mother in Ch. 51, Mollie slowly continues to think through her feelings. In the end, she realizes that they have grown so much closer, and her feelings are different than anything she has felt before. What exactly those feelings are, are still to be determined.

Ch. 52 contains probably one of the softest moments in the series so far, in which Mollie falls asleep in an armchair and Tommy kneels in front of the chair, waiting for her to wake up. Like most humans, Mollie finds it hard to look at him when he's being taciturn and severe, but this Tommy, all gentle smiles and let-me-go-get-you-a-coffee, is equally discomfiting, if not more.

The wedding chapters put Mollie through a tumult of emotions; comically, before the ceremony begins, she is paranoid for a few moments that perhaps Tommy was staring (he was not). When they finally talk together, we get the clearest signs of how Mollie's feelings towards Tommy have changed:

That soft look through his lashes, irresistible in its surrender, was something that I had only ever seen when we were alone together. The sounds of the wedding died away, and I felt myself transported to that place of quiet. The warmth spread through my hand, through my arm, through my body.

She references the surrender, but finally places it in context of their relationship.

In Ch. 55, Mollie ponders what it would be like to fall in love with Ossi:

I wondered what it would be like to be loved by, to fall in love with, someone like him... someone so free from the weight of his own existence, someone that wouldn't invite whispers behind my back, someone who accepted me from the beginning without question.

She doesn't fully internalize that her default point of comparison is falling in love with Tommy. It is unclear (to her, to us readers) at what stage Mollie is in with respect to Tommy: is she falling in love with him? Does she love him?

The final chapter of the arc naturally has many notable moments; I will highlight this one:

"Thomas…" I said, unsure of what I should say in return.

"This distance, even in a name," he said. My stomach churned to hear the deep note of sadness in his voice. I had slipped.

To me, this exchange is the most gut-wrenching of the entire work so far, an exchange that has been planned since the beginning. Very early on, Tommy insists that she call him "Tommy"--she does--but in her mind, she calls him Thomas in order to preserve mental distance between them. Tommy has always instinctively felt this distance; he has tried to bridge the gap--but the wedding eventually forces him to expose all of his frustrations ("What more can I do?").

The kiss scene

This scene has been on my mind since the very beginning. I started writing this story in February 2020, so very long ago, and a rough draft of their kiss scene has existed at least since end of 2021, nearly two years ago. Since then, it's undergone five major revisions and countless edits.

In the earliest version, Mollie was actually Tommy's date to the wedding, and the wedding would sort of be a public debut (but they wouldn't officially be a couple). The kiss scene would happen later at Tommy's house, when they were both winding down for bed. But, as I drew closer to the wedding arc, I thought this didn't make sense.

I also waffled back and forth about who would initiate the kiss: Tommy, Mollie, or would they mutually do so? In the first few drafts, I had Tommy initiate, but again, as I continued to write the rest of the story, I became conflicted. Mollie has been slowly taking agency over her life, and Tommy... well, I don't want to say too much right now for fear of spoiling, but here are a few important phrases that might give some clues:

He was not wearing the tuxedo bowtie any longer; the loose, unbuttoned shirt collar exposing pale skin underneath.

I knew that he was waiting for me, now.

"Could you ever love someone like me?" he asked quietly. I looked up to find his blue ones looking intensely into mine, lidded with desire, with hope, and maybe a little fear.

I also thought a lot about whether they would share a short kiss or whether there would be a more passionate exchange (various states of undress, makeout session, etc; strictly PG13, no sex), but again, it seemed too fantastical for the both of them to do such things at that point. Even so, it was important to show their physical chemistry, which is why I added the followup where Mollie bites his lower lip. It's a small gesture, but... in the words of Tommy, "everything about [Mollie] is torture."

For fun, here are all the almost kisses:

Ch. 23

"Step into the light, Mollie," he said. I did as he asked, stepping closer to him. He reached his hand towards my chin, angling it upwards. I could feel his breath on my face, his eyes searching mine intently.

Ch. 31

"You don't understand the nature of my business and my standing, and what I must say even if I…" he trailed off. He moved closer, our noses touching for a brief moment, his eyes half-hooded. I could feel the heat from his body rising towards me. I almost inhaled.

Ch. 48

He slowly inhaled, his lidded eyes softly focused on mine. I could feel the fabric flexing underneath my fingers, the wool of the outer jacket, the fine twill of his shirt, punctuated by smooth buttons.

"I've always loved…" The pressure on my hand increased even more, and I instinctively grasped at the fabric, feeling a sharp intake of breath rush through his chest. "... the feel of Shropshire wool."

Ch. 51

"It's nothing," I mumbled, afraid that he would coax the answer out, afraid that he would recognize how pliant I was in his warm hands. He leaned towards me, as if confirming my fears. There was that question again, and I was not ready to answer it. I leaned into his chest, a collapse of my own.

Ch. 55

"Thank you," he murmured. Thomas brought his hands just beneath my jaw, and slowly leaned in to kiss me lightly on the forehead. He inhaled deeply, his eyelashes trembling at the effort, his fingertips still keeping my face tilted towards him. Would he…?

The dress

Song revised the dress by adding the golden chains to silently protest against Tommy and how she perceives he holds Mollie back. The chains are a physical manifestation of shackles or a cage, but one could also argue they protect her as well and serve as a present reminder of the support of her friends and family...

His arms wrapped around me, his fingertips pressing against the gold chains and digging into my back. I had to break this porcelain fantasy, this brittle gilded cage.

[kingsroad]

i made a sad vent video of all of my favorite jerks.

[theshelbyslimited]

my first time starting this series and my immediate thought was: YES YES YES bc this series will definitely emphasise on how Tommy used Arthur's trauma and emotionally instability to his own advantage and his business's advantage. he cared so much about money and business that he didn't give a damn if it meant driving his OWN BROTHER to the brink of death as a result of alcohol poisoning or drug overdose. as long as TOMMY and his 'army of one' got what they wanted in the end, that's what ultimately mattered. that's kinda the vibe I got from him a lot of the time tbh bc although we obviously saw sweet brotherly moments between him and Arthur, he never seemed to understand nor empathise w how different Arthur was when it came to dealing w his emotions and trauma. imma stop rambling now and get onto the second part but I had to get this out bc that's the first thought I had when I read the premise of this series and it had me hyped to see where this story goes 👀

Not My Woman (Part 1)

Arthur x OC (Rose)

Summary: Arthur’s problems are under control when he’s with Rose. What happens when Tommy seeks to separate them? Angsty beginning with fluff at the end.

Author’s Note: Inspired by S6, Arthur gets clean. Diverges from canon since Linda does not exist and Rose is the one who inspires a change in Arthur. I’ve made Tommy and Polly the bad guys here even though I adore them. Part 1 of 4.

Warnings: Season 6 spoilers, language, mention of abortion

Arthur slumped down into the booth, knocking over a whiskey bottle that sloshed out over the floor. His head bobbed slowly, hair messily falling into his face. Any other day John would have sat him up and ordered another round, but today was different. John had orders to keep Arthur away from Watery Lane so he would let Arthur pass out in the snug. It was better if he didn’t realize what was happening at the betting shop.

John jerked his head toward the table and Finn pocketed the empty bottles of snow. “Thanks, Finn. Now head back to the shop,” John instructed. As Finn was leaving, he turned back to John with remorse in his eyes, “Was this the only way, John?” John puffed at his cigar and watched the smoke roll away. “How the fuck should I know. We’re just toy soldiers, ain’t we?”

Arthur had protested a little on his way out, not wanting to break his promise to Rose. She had looked after him as he recovered from his addiction to snow and he was rarely drinking these days. When he felt like using, he thought back to the night he met her, the woman in room 6, at the brothel in Digbeth. She had treated him so gently, he forgot she wasn’t his girl. He found himself talking to her in jumbled thought which she somehow made sense of. When he was too tired to continue, he fell asleep clinging to her body. Tracing the outline of a rope burn on his neck, Rose prayed for Arthur to find peace. After a few weeks, Arthur had moved her out of the brothel to a small flat and gotten her a job as a laundress to show her the same care.

Even though she knew it was dangerous to get involved with a peaky blinder, Rose wanted to help Arthur. He was unlike anyone she had met since arriving. Despite the blades in his cap and the blood in his eye, there was a vulnerability she couldn’t overlook. She began caring for Arthur with a motherly instinct at first, mending his clothes, holding his hands when they shook from the tremors and sitting up with him at night when he got the Flanders blues. Although she never gave him ultimatums, Rose was strict in her care. She told Finn not to bring him anymore snow and she poured out his “medicine” from the doctor.

When Arthur was around Rose he was calm and gentle, enough so that she felt comfortable bringing her five-year old son Jack to live with her again. Arthur wanted to be a good role model for the boy and took his sobriety seriously until the family began to notice the change in him.

“I need me brother back, Pol. We can’t be seen as soft and weak right now,” Tommy worried aloud pacing his office floor.

“It’s that whore he’s keeping these days. She’s inside his head,” Polly warned.

“Right, well, that ends now. Put her on a train, get her set up in London and bring him back to Watery Lane,” Tommy instructed.

“I’ve been to see her and I don’t think he’ll give her up that easily. She’s pregnant,” Polly informed him.

“Fuck…” Tommy exhaled, falling back in his chair.

“And she won’t take a bribe, she’s too proud for that. Besides, she says she’s in love with him,” Polly watched Tommy waiting for his reply.

“Then we have to make her think it’s in her best interest to leave. Make the prospect of staying seem hopeless,” Tommy said forming a plan.

“And how do you propose we do that?” Polly asked with raised brows.

“Lies travel faster than the truth, Pol, especially for a woman like her. Arthur will believe what we tell him.”

The next morning Arthur arrived at the betting shop in a good mood, only to find Tommy and John waiting in his office. Tommy wore a sour expression. “Arthur, I’ll get straight to the point. Your woman, Rose, has been seen in the Italian neighborhood recently doing business with our enemies.” Tommy scolded.

“What, you mean her laundry deliveries? Fuck off, Tom,” Arthur said shrugging off his brother’s accusation.

“No, not that business,” Tommy said shaking his head. He lit a cigarette giving Arthur time to come to the realization on his own. Arthur only stood in silence so Tommy carried on with his lie.

“It seems she’s gone back to whoring. John has followed her, you can ask him if you don’t believe me,” Tommy eyed John cautiously, a silent reminder to stick to their story.

“Is that true, John?” Arthur asked trying to remain calm. The seed of doubt that Tommy had planted was growing.

“Yeah, it is,” John said simply before looking down at the floor.

“What are you going to do about it, brother?” Tommy asked as though Arthur had a choice in the matter.

“I’ll take care of it, Tom. Don’t worry,” Arthur said not yet knowing what to do.

Arthur was torn between his brothers and Rose. He couldn’t believe Tommy and John would lie to him. However, he couldn’t turn Rose away. She was the most stable thing he’d ever had in his life. Arthur made the difficult decision to disobey Tommy’s orders. He knew now was the time to free himself from the family. He could live the life he wanted with Rose, somewhere in the country where they could be at peace. With thoughts of his own garage and a farm with chickens, Arthur penned a farewell letter to Tommy. He could never explain it to him properly in person, especially when Tommy employed his talent for twisting words.

The letter read, “I’m leaving Birmingham to start a new life. I’ve done things for you I regret. I’ve tried to be a good man, but my hands belong to the devil. I know you’ll turn your back on me after this, maybe you’ll wish me dead, but I’m alright with it. Sometimes killing is a kindness.” He signed it and placed it in an envelope for Tommy.

Clumsy in his haste, Arthur had aroused suspicion in Tommy while leaving the note. Tommy took up the letter immediately and read it, rage coursing through him knowing his brother was leaving for good. He poured a glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. His brain stopped racing long enough to think and he soon realized the letter could be used to his advantage. If only he could get to his brother in time. Tommy sent John and Finn to find Arthur and Isaiah to set up his plan for Rose.

A few details, easily changed, and the letter appeared to be genuine. Rose would never question it, Tommy thought. Just as he was finishing, Isaiah arrived with a confused Rose.

“Mr. Shelby, this man said you wanted to see me because of Arthur? Is he alright?,” Rose asked with fear in her voice.

“No, he’s not, Rose. Me brother is a troubled man. I think you know that,” Tommy started to paint a picture.

“He’s gotten so much better these past months…” Rose tried to explain but Tommy put his hand up for her to stop.

“You don’t know Arthur as well as you think, love. Otherwise he wouldn’t have left. He asked me to give you this,” Tommy said handing over the note.

Rose took the paper from his outstretched hand and skimmed it quickly. Studying it to confirm it was Arthur’s handwriting, she became emotional.

“Arthur wrote this?” She asked lip trembling.

“He did, love, I’m sorry,” Tommy replied stone faced.

“Now I know you don’t have a lot of money and you’ve a son to care for. I hear that you’re also carrying my brother’s child, but I can help you. Imagine the life you could give your son in America, eh?”

Rose wiped a tear from her eye and took a shaky breath. The last line of Arthur’s letter haunted her, “sometimes killing is a kindness.” She would have to work very hard to kill his memory, but Arthur wasn’t the only person who needed her now. Tommy wordlessly offered her a cigarette and she accepted it between her fingers. She waited for Tommy to light it like the gentleman he was pretending to be. After a long drag, she exhaled and looked Tommy in the eye purposefully, her mind made up.

“Yes, my answer is yes to the offer of a new life for me and my son,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Good,” Tommy nodded thoughtfully before continuing. “Now I know a woman who can help you rid yourself of the child. You go to this address and it’ll be as though my brother never existed in your life,” Tommy said holding out a piece of paper and an envelope of money.

Rose hesitated to take the money if Tommy was suggesting she use it to get rid of Arthur’s baby. It turned her stomach to see Tommy conduct this as a business transaction. He was so different from his brother. She still loved Arthur despite the cold, cruel tone of his letter. She wondered where he could be and why he felt he couldn’t talk to her.

Arthur was oblivious, sitting in the booth at the Garrison next to John and Finn, waiting for a drink. Although he wanted to tell his brothers about his plans to leave Shelby Company Limited, he couldn’t bring himself to spoil their good mood. John kept distracting him, telling dirty stories and laughing boisterously at his own jokes. When Finn pulled out the tiny blue bottles of snow, Arthur couldn’t stop himself from taking the edge off a very stressful day.

The next thing he remembered, he was waking up in the alley. How he had gotten so off track, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he had to find Rose. Today was the day he would tell her their dreams of a quiet life were coming true. It would be hard to explain his absence from the night before without admitting he had relapsed, but he knew Rose would be patient with him. Despite his aching head and heavy limbs, he picked up his pace on the walk to Rose’s flat filled with excitement. He didn’t know that his life was already upside down.

Jack ran toward Arthur with a big grin. “Mum got me new shoes, uncle Arthur. Look!”

The shoes were indeed new and much too expensive looking for a washer woman. Arthur curled his fists at his side wondering what Rose was hiding. He thought about Tommy’s words of warning about her. Trying to control his temper in front of the boy, Arthur leaned down to ask, “Where is your mum now?”

“Dunno. Mum was really busy this morning making deliveries. She says once she gets back we’re going on a train and a big ship, but I don’t want to go. I told her I like it here,” he said

“Think for me, Jack. Where did she say you was going?” His voice was tight, anger coiled within him ready to spring free.

“A place called America,” he smiled broadly.

“Is that right?” Arthur asked tensely.

Pulling his gold watch from his pocket, he looked at the time. Rose would be finished with her deliveries soon. He couldn’t wait though. He stalked the streets looking for her until a blinder headed toward him with urgency. “Tommy says he needs you, Arthur. Better come quick.”

Giving up his search for the moment, Arthur huffed, “Fine…I’m comin’” and turned back toward the betting shop, questions about Rose multiplying in his mind.

Now that the deal was done and his problem was going away, Tommy decided to tell Arthur the awful truth about his meeting with Rose. Tommy knew Arthur would hate her so thoroughly after this that nothing could repair their relationship.

“You can’t trust women like her, Arthur. She could have gotten our whole family killed.” Tommy spoke to Arthur as though he were a child. “She gave you up and your baby because I paid her.” Tommy confessed flatly. “Did you even know she was carrying your child, brother?” He continued to twist the knife.

Arthur stumbled backward into a chair. “She…she never told me…” Arthur looked angrier than Tommy had seen him in a long time, but that was what Tommy wanted, to have his mad dog back at his side.

"What the fuck are you telling me this for, Tom?” Arthur asked hanging his head in his hands to calm the blinding pain in his head.

“Only to remind you that you have a place here with kin. So fuck Rose. Fuck whatever lies she told you. This is where you belong,” Tommy said knowing he had won.

Over the next few months, Arthur slipped back into his old habits. The day at the Garrison with John and Finn had kick started his cocaine habit once more, making him violent and erratic. No matter what he did, his memories of Rose weren’t fading though. Her face resurfaced in his dreams and he would wake looking for her, Jack and their baby.

———————————————————————————————

A year later…

“Arthur, wake up. They’ve found your woman, Rose,” Finn explained shaking Arthur by the shoulders.

“She’s not my woman…” Arthur said with a distant stare. Finn didn’t understand why Arthur would deny his love for Rose. Arthur still called out for her when he was loosing consciousness from the opium. Finn was racked with guilt about the role he had played in driving them apart, but he hadn’t known what to do at the time. No one ever went against Tommy, least of all Finn.

With his concern for his older brother’s well-being growing daily, Finn found the courage to take matters into his own hands. He took down the address he was given for Rose by the blinders who had spotted her on the street in Digbeth. If Arthur wouldn’t go to Rose, Finn was determined to bring Rose to Arthur.

Continue reading...Part 2

[imagines-for-the-unpopular]

Doubt

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: drunkness

Request: nope

Prompt: 46. People like me don’t get happy endings. 

Word count: 677

A/N: Arthur deserves some love! Gif is mine.

It was hard to convince Arthur that you really loved him. It was even harder to explain to him how could you love him. He never believed in your sweet words, even from day one. Arthur was sure you are with because of pity, not that you knew of that, you had the purest soul in his opinion.

Many a night you were waiting up for him, not knowing if he is coming home at all. Most of these nights he stumbled home drunk. He wasn’t an angry drunk with you, he loved you too much for that, but all of his dark thoughts came to the surface.

You were sitting on the couch, in front of the fireplace, waiting for Arthur to arrive home. You prayed that he was okay and would be home soon. You didn’t care if he was drunk, you just wanted him to be beside you, safe.

You were lost in your thoughts, slowly slipping a glass of whiskey, when you heard fumbling from the door. The door creaked on its hinges as it opened, Arthur stumbling through it, cursing under his nose. You got up and quickly made your way to him, to prevent him from breaking anything on the way.

“Love, her’ you’re” he slurred, as you led him to the couch. He collapsed on the sofa, and pulled you down with himself.

“Oh, Arthur” you sighed, as you let him to lay his head into your lap. Your fingers got lost in his hair as you started to massage his scalp. You felt peaceful with Arthur right beside you. You thought he has already fallen asleep, when you heard sobs coming from his direction. “Oh, Arthur” you repeated yourself, this time your heart bleeding from his cries “Love, please, what happened” you begged him softly. Letting go of his hair so you could wipe away his tears from his cheek.

“Why are you still here? Why do you love me?” he asked his usual questions, his voice sounding much more sober than a few minutes ago.

“Because I do, you are the most amazing man I have ever meet, how could I not love you?” you answered with your usual argument “I love you so much, I can’t leave you, I have no idea what would I do without you in my life.” Your statements silenced Arthur and you could see the gears turning in his head.

“Why do you think I would leave?” you questioned him this time, no longer able to hold back your worries “I thought we are doing okay, I thought we are happy. Why won’t you believe it yourself?”

A long silence followed your asking, you started to give hope that he will answer, but after a few minutes you heard him quietly whisper.

“People like me don’t get happy endings” and with just that one sentence, he broke your heart into pieces. You finally understood what was behind all of his doubts and insecurities.

“Oh, Arthur! I don’t care about that you are a Peaky Blinder, I don’t mind you get angry out of nowhere from time to time. I love you for you! I think you are a good man and I will be here for you. Always. Nobody is perfect, but for me you are just that, perfect” you tried to reassure him with your little speech, but you could already feel your tears escaping from your eyes.

Arthur slightly turned his head so he could up at you for the first time since he laid in your lap. This time he was the one to reach up with a hand to wipe away your tears.

“Thank you, love” he said, his eyes shining with gratitude for you, his drunken stupor long gone. You smiled down at him, your hand playing with his hair again.

“Come on” you beckoned him “Let’s go to bed.” Both of you stood up, Arthur pulled you back for a kiss before following you upstairs.

After that night Arthur no longer doubted your love for him.

Tag list:  @ta-ka-shi-ma​

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 79: Fulfilled

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

General POV

Once the plans are set, Thomas arranges for Verena’s whole family to be brought to Birmingham. Even Dílis makes the voyage. Thomas takes the extra time before the wedding to travel ahead to Ada’s house to inform her of the good news.

“Ada, I’m making a withdrawal,” Thomas calls as he strides through the office.

His sister looks up from her desk. “What for?”

“It’s from my private account, not the company’s-”

“What. For?” She repeats firmly.

Thomas licks his lips and turns to look at her. “A ring.”

“You’re not serious.” Ada holds her head in her hands. “Again, Tommy? After all that’s happened I thought you’d finally learned-!”

“It’s Verena.”

“Oh thank Christ,” she sighs and collapses back in her seat. “Took you long enough. Was starting to think I’d have to spell it out for you. If Polly were here she’d whack you over the head. Did you already ask her?”

Thomas continues to approach the safe. “Yeah.”

“And she said yes?” Ada asks anxiously.

“I wouldn’t be buying a ring if she’d said no,” Thomas replies matter-of-factly.

“That was what that whole ‘business trip’ to Ireland was, then? You asked her father?”

“‘Course I did.”

Ada bites her tongue. “Do you know about the, ah, conditions?”

There's a pause. Thomas’ head whips around to face his sister. “You knew?”

“Yes,” she answers slowly. “Verena called me a few days ago to ask for my blessing of her being the head of your finances. She didn’t mention you’d gotten engaged but I assumed so. I told her I was fine with it.”

Thomas’ brow furrows and he looks back at the safe. There’s no doubt in his mind that Verena’s clever enough to handle money. Besides, times are changing. If Polly were here she’d remind him of how she had to handle money during the war. It's just not what he expected...

Ada waits for him to speak and continues when he doesn’t. “She didn’t say anything about the company’s money. I think she just wants security, especially for her family.”

Thomas grunts. “Yeah, but threatening my bloody money after all she’s talked about not wanting wealth-?”

“God, Tommy! It’s not about her becoming rich!” Ada sucks in a breath and looks up at him. “To you, money is power. If you make a mistake, your money is being taken away. I don’t know exactly what’s going through Verena’s mind but I have to say from a woman’s point of view it’s amazingly brilliant. If you resort to your old ways then she’s going to make it so you feel exactly how she’s felt over the years. Powerless.”

“But I won’t,” Thomas denies and skims through the money. “I thought she trusted me.”

“That’s something you need to work on during your marriage,” Ada verifies and Thomas hears her walk closer. “For the record, if you do ever resort to your old ways I am going to personally shoot you in the crotch. Never let that woman down again, Tommy.”

“Between you and her family I’m backed against a wall and a hard place,” Thomas chuckles darkly. “Does Arthur know?”

“Not entirely,” Ada responds and goes back to sit at the desk. “I briefly mentioned it to him last night.”

“Well then I’ll explain the rest before the ceremony. The wedding’s in three days.”

Ada gasps. “Three days?!”

Thomas finishes retrieving the money and steps back out. “We both have been wanting this for a long time, Ada. No big ceremony is required.”

She holds her head high. “It’s a Shelby wedding. There will be nothing less.”

“We assumed you’d think that,” a cheeky voice says.

Ada whips around to see the American woman herself standing in the doorway next to an older woman with darker hair. The gleam in Verena’s eyes is the one previously seen in Thomas’. Meanwhile Thomas sucks in a breath to keep from overreacting to Verena’s arrival. It’s the first time he’s seen her since he discovered her plans and yet she acts as if nothing is different.

"Verena!" Ada cheers and runs to hug her. "You're engaged!"

Verena gratefully returns the hug and gestures to the woman beside her. “Ada, meet my moeder, Elowyn.”

The Shelby sister smiles and offers a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“And you as well,” Verena’s mother replies gratefully. “I’m told you’re the one to thank for bringing your broer back into my dochter’s life. Verena says it’s you who keeps her informed. I’ve come to appreciate that.”

Ada looks back at her daughter and smiles. “Verena is a marvel. She’s been a great deal of help around here. She even fixed Tommy.”

“Hey!” Thomas gawks in a mockingly hurt tone.

“Oh, shut it.” Ada looks back to Verena’s mother. “Do you know about the wedding?”

She nods. “In three days. Their idea, not mine, I assure you.”

Ada huffs and narrows her eyes at Thomas. “Where will we have it? It’s still bloody freezing outside!”

Him and Verena exchange glances. “The church.”

Verena’s mother isn’t convinced. “Will they do a service this short notice?”

“Our minister is an associate of the Peaky Blinders,” Thomas assures. “He’ll do it.”

Verena’s POV

It’s happening. It’s finally happening! It’s the night before my wedding- the real one! It almost feels phony, like I’m about to wake up and this is all a dream. What does turn into a good dream is my next vision of Polly.

The Romani woman sits across from me in the same parlor. This time her lace veil is held back.

“See, Verena? That fortune of yours I read all those years ago told me you would join this family.”

In the dream I feel myself lean against the sofa. “You couldn’t have just told me that?”

She shrugs. “You didn’t want to hear it. Besides, you'd have thought it was a lark.”

Damn. She’s right. Even back then I would have renounced the fortune. 

“So… What happens now?” I ask hesitantly.

“I can’t answer that,” Polly deflects. “Right now you need to take a leap of faith and construct your marriage.”

“I really want this…” I sigh. “But what if I’m not qualified enough? You know what other women had to go through with Thomas. What if I snap too?”

“You already know what you’re signing up for. You’ve already secured your legacy.” Polly watches me carefully. “Even heroes make mistakes. No one is perfect and no one is safe from mistakes.”

Including me. That fact has always stood clear. There is no doubt I might make mistakes in this marriage, the same way Thomas might as well. But if my faith is strong and communication is upheld then we can navigate them. Yes, I may have secured the legacy of money for my familie. But I also wish to create my own line of heritage with Thomas.

“Congratulations, Verena.”

Polly’s words fade out and my eyes snap open to my bedroom on Watery Lane. Today’s the day. Sunlight is pouring in through the window and shining on my new wedding gown that’s hanging in the corner. This dress has more lace, is short-sleeved, and is much more elegant; all paid for by Thomas, of course. That is one thing he stressed on was that money is no issue. Since it’s bad luck for him to see me beforehand he told me to pick any dress and have the bill sent to him. The only other arrangements are decorating the church and having our reception at The Garrison, which Ada has already planned. 

“Knock knock!” Oma calls as she enters with Dílis, already dressed for the ceremony. “Time to get up! How are you feeling, kleinkind?”

I take another look at the gown. “Excited. And scared. But I know that’s normal.”

“Correct. Now, up up up!” Oma pulls me out of bed and pushes me forward. “Your moeder’s already running around crazy at the church and it’s my job to keep you moving. Get dressed and today will be over before you know it.”

Ruff! Dílis encourages and tugs at my nightgown.

Oma leaves in a flash and I’m left jumbling to clean up. I fill the tub and hastily scrub myself raw before slipping on my chemise and undergarments. As I do so I keep thinking of how fast this attire will be pulled off later tonight. Lord, it’s so conflicting. It’s confusing how society labels sexual desire as inappropriate, yet God encourages us to love our spouse with such love. One thing’s for sure: I do feel pretty in this dress.

I keep expecting a feeling or sign of disapproval from Grace but there are none. My nerves are stilled as we approach the church. Everyone’s already inside. All that’s left is for vader to walk me in. The weather today is partly cloudy with a small breeze, sending goosebumps down my arms. From an outside glance the church appears deserted but I can already hear the muffled chatter of the many guests inside. Is my makeup alright? Do my braids look okay-?

“It’s time,” Vader says as he gestures for me to come forward. “Don’t worry, Verena. You look beautiful.”

I hope so. I take his arm and we begin strolling through the open doors and down the aisle. On the one side is the whole Shelby clan. Ada, Charlie, Arthur, Johnny Doggs, Isaiah, Uncle Charlie, Duke, and a few other of Thomas’ friends. On the other side is moeder, oma, Conor, Dililah, Evelyn, Nicolaas, Ruth, Eoin, Gertrude, Abel, Anna, Franz, Aunt and Uncle Steenstra, Uncle Colon, and all my nieces and nephews. There’s no need for bridesmaids or groomsmen. It's just a simple ceremony for two people who want to be with each other. It's not a grand, public ceremony by any means, which is something I feel Uncle Colon made sure of. No more assassins, no more unwanted press. The church itself is decorated beautifully with fresh lilies and roses, which is impressive considering how quickly this was arranged. One perk was that my own familie was already traveling this way for the original wedding, and were then transported to this official one. 

Through the white veil I vaguely make out Jeremiah standing at the end of the aisle. Thomas is there too. God, he looks handsome. Standing there in a crisp suit and blue tie to match his eyes. I keep scanning his face for hesitation but there is none. He's not wearing his flat cap. He's not a gangster right now. Right now he looks like any other man I've seen on his wedding day, only this time his smile is caused when I step up beside him. When vader leaves me to take his seat, Jerimiah beckons Thomas and I to face each other.

“Ladies and gentlemen…”

"I do."

The weight of my ring is new to me. It’s a beautiful ring. A simple silver band woven with a Celtic knot pattern, based on the claddagh ring. Uncle Colon even brought a braided cord for us to use for handfasting. By the time the ceremony is almost done it feels more natural to think of Thomas as my husband. And I’m his wife. We’ve tied the knot. If he gives me that smile every day then I will be happy for the rest of my life!

“You may now kiss the bride!” Jeremiah announces.

Thomas doesn’t miss a beat. He cups my cheek and we lean in for a soft, modest kiss, earning cheers from both families. This kiss may be modest, but a deeper kiss waits for me later. As the cheering continues Thomas takes my hand and leads me back out into the fresh air. The wind twirls my veil everywhere so he carefully removes it to keep kissing my forehead.

“Hello, Mrs. Shelby,” he declares lovingly and runs his thumb over my cheek.

“I didn’t just dream that?” I gush and bashfully look down.

“If this is only a dream then I’ll fix it to be real when I wake up.”

Thomas leans in for another kiss just as Arthur bursts out, followed by all my broers.

“Alright, alright, save it for the honeymoon!” Arthur waves us off.

“Time to party!” Eoin cheers as everyone begins piling into cars.

Suddenly I’m pushed into the backseat of Thomas’ Bentley and my legs get tangled in my skirt. In my scramble to sit up I almost don’t notice Thomas sitting down next to me. Once I’ve composed myself he reaches over to pull me flush against him.

“I never thought today would exist,” he whispers as Nicolaas up front begins driving.

“Hey, Shelby!” My broer pipes up. “Take a hint from Arthur and abstain from making out with my zuster until tonight. You’ll have your whole lives to smooch.”

A hot blush spreads on my face and I slink away to the other side of the backseat. Thomas, on the other hand, keeps sending me teasing glances and tempting me by slowly running his fingers over my hand. This man is going to be the death of me! Eventually he does stop to distract himself with lighting a cigarette, cracking the window slightly to allow the smoke to escape. Good. He remembers I don't like smoking.

“I sent some luggage ahead in advance. Hope you don’t mind, I’ve planned our honeymoon to be in the countryside.”

Thomas says it so casually but from the look he’s giving me I can tell he’s planned this well. Knowing him it’s far off in a beautiful, scenic spot… and where no one can hear us. I want to mock him back but I hold my tongue in front of Nicolaas.

“Here, there, anywhere," I reply and squeeze his hand. "As long as you’re there.”

When we get to The Garrison the party is already kicking off. Vader and Uncle Colon stand at the ready behind the counter, preparing spirits with Arthur. Ada herds the women to the booths. All of my young nieces and nephews stay over in the corner, playing with Dílis as he smells all of the new people. The tables have been cleared away to make space for dancing, which is starting to begin. Thomas, being the social person he is, immediately begins conversing with everyone. The minute people see we’ve arrived I’m pulled into talks of merriment as well.

“Congratulations!”

“You look gorgeous!”

“We never thought this would happen!”

Even Charlie stays around for the reception. He’s dressed in a simple suit and tie, representing Thomas’ imprint on him. From the quick glances I get of him through the crowd he seems to be conversing well with my nephews. Soon he wanders over and offers me a smile.

“I’m glad you came back,” Charlie says shyly.

There’s an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Does he think it’s strange for me to be married to his vader? I don’t mean to overstep-

“I know you love him,” Charlie speaks up again. “But I’m going to need some time to think about whether I can rely on him. I’m staying with Lizzie now, if you ever want to visit.”

Yes, so Lizzie can skin me. I do my best to look positive. “I appreciate that, Charlie. But that might be, um…”

“You’re right,” Charlie smirks. “Too awkward. I’ll come to see you instead, eh?”

"Oh, Charlie," I fuss and pull him in for a hug. "You're growing up so fast!"

We both hug goodbye and Charlie walks back into the horde of guests. On que, Arthur decides to stroll over next, shedding his dress coat to cool off. From the look in his eye I’m guessing Ada’s told him about my conniving with the documents. 

“Ah, there she is! The new Mrs. Shelby!” Arthur grins and pulls me in for a hug. “Gotta say, it took Tommy long enough! Now, um, about your little scheme for his money-”

“I swear it is only Thomas’ money,” I assure, slightly panicking. “Please understand, Arthur, I-”

“Oh I understand plenty, love,” the older Shelby grunts and gives his brother a side glance across the room. “I talked it over with your uncle. I first thought the idea was too much but Ada’s right. My brother needs to keep his head straight and you’re the right one to keep him focused.” Arthur looks at me again, this time with a darkened gaze. “However, he is still my brother. If you even think of using him against us then you’re gonna have to deal with the Peaky Blinders. Deal?”

He holds out a hand and at first I stare at it. Another deal. A warning. What’s different about this one compared to others I’ve witnessed is that Arthur is giving me the benefit of the doubt. Of course I think it would be cruel to get on the Shelbys' bad side. I’m not looking to use anyone, I’m simply using the presented resources to my advantage without ruffling any feathers.

“I promise,” I answer and shake Arthur’s hand. “I will take good care of your brother.”

Arthur smiles and pats me on the back before walking off. “Good luck, Shelby!”

Now it’s back to chatting. Over and over, more and more smiling and thank-yous. After a while Uncle Colon walks over and blocks me from the talkative partygoers. Eoin and Abel take the opportunity to distract them with more dancing.

“So here we are at last, your wedding day.” The Irishman smiles and toasts me with his whiskey. “Is it what you expected?”

More cheering makes me look over at Thomas, who’s taking a shot with Conor. The whole scene of partying and delight in spite of the world problems surrounding us makes me smile.

“I feel very happy,” I admit. “I just hope the feeling lasts.”

“Trust your instincts and you’ll keep it intact. I’ve taught you well for this.” Uncle Colon sips his drink. “There’s change coming to the routines of mobs, whether it be the White Hand or the Peaky Blinders. Rest assured, I’ll always have your back. Now it’s time for you to forget about that and grow as a wife.”

Thomas’ wife. The title that I never thought would suit me. When those blue eyes looked at me all those years ago I remember wondering why such a stern, commanding man should be so blind to the simple blessings in life. Now we can have time to enjoy them.

“By the way, what ever happened to the guy I was supposed to marry?”

Uncle Colon waves it off. “Don’t fret about that. I explained the situation and made sure he understood.”

In my confusion I try to babble out more questions but he walks away before I can ask any further. That's it? I mean, I appreciate the understanding but I would have at least liked to have met the man in person to explain. But those worries are thrown away as the conversations resume once again. A few short speeches and toasts are given. Every time I try to snatch a hors d'oeuvre or a quick drink it’s back to talking or being pulled in for a dance. When I finally get to catch my breath is when Thomas pulls me in for a slow waltz in front of everyone, which doesn’t help my anxiety much.

There are other onlookers too. Outside in the growing darkness I glimpse a handful of faces peering through the windows. No doubt they’re curious about the loud party. Given the economy it's sad to see that no one parties anymore.

“People are staring,” I whisper to Thomas.

He sees where I’m looking and pulls me closer as we spin around the room. “They won't hurt you.”

I chuckle lightly and offer a joke. “Some could say the Brooklyn angel is with the devil of Birmingham.”

“They’d be right,” Thomas promptly agrees and places another kiss on my cheek.

I wave it off. “I am anything but an angel.”

“You are to me, darling. So good,” he praises and rests his head on my shoulder. “Rumor is that angels fly because they take themselves lightly.”

I shoot him an annoyed grin and gently swat his shoulder. “Very funny.”

Thomas grins and leans me down for a dip. “Get used to it, love. I’m going to praise you and remind you how marvelous you are every single day.”

@sherbitdibdab @meadows5

[prettybillycore]

shot through the heart || ch.2 || billy hargrove x shelby!reader

Pairing(s): Shelby!Reader x Billy Hargrove, Minor Thomas Shelby x Grace Burgess

Universe: Peaky Blinders + Stranger Things

Summary: You, one of the younger members of the Shelby clan, are just trying to find your place in the world when suddenly you are shot. Instead of dying, you are flashed-forward in time to 1984 where you meet people who will change your life forever. Will you ever be able to return home? What caused you to time-travel in the first place?

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, swearing

A/N: I can’t wait to see what you all think of the end of this chapter!!!

Read Below the Cut or on AO3

You were in the church lighting candles with Aunt Polly the first time you met Inspector Campbell. “A gentleman would take off his hat… and put out his pipe,” she said. She didn’t look up from her task of lighting her candles. 

You, however, did. You blew out the candle you were holding and looked over your shoulder at Inspector Campbell. “I see you only dare to come here when you know my brothers are away at the fair.”

“Ah yes, your brothers. With their guns and their razors? Is it them you're lighting candles for?” He asked. 

“We’re lighting candles for the boys from The Garrison who lost their lives in France,” Aunt Pol said, “There's a list there. Look.”

“I hear you didn’t make it to France, Inspector Campbell,” you taunted. Aunt Polly grinned. 

The inspector looked at you with a displeased expression. “You’ve heard of me,” he said, taking a step closer, “I think it’s unfair that I’ve not heard of you. I’ve only heard of Polly Gray and her nephews.”

You looked at Aunt Pol and then back at Inspector Campbell in shock, “I’m deeply offended. I’m only the most important member of the Shelby clan.”

Aunt Pol blew out the flame in her hand and smiled at the back of your head. She then wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “It’s definitely this one you should be on the lookout for. She’s smart as a whip and twice as devilish as my nephews some days.” You knew she was only kidding, but it still felt nice to be recognized as an essential member of the family. You sometimes felt overlooked, and Inspector Campbell having absolutely no idea who you were didn’t help that image you had of yourself. 

You looked at Inspector Campbell with a plastic grin. “My name’s Y/n. Y/n Shelby. I’m one of the siblings– between Finn and John.”

The inspector nodded and looked away from you and your aunt. He focused his attention ahead on the front of the church. He pushed open the gates and walked through them without another word to either of you. “Is it the Holy Grail you’re looking for?” Aunt Pol asked. 

“As a matter of fact, it is the Holy Grail I’m looking for,” the Inspector replied. His eyes were fixated on Aunt Polly. He began to walk toward the two of you. Pol put herself between you and the Inspector. “Something precious. Something stolen.” The Inspector took one of his hands and shoved Polly up against the wall. “Perhaps you know what I’m talking about.” His gaze was stern and low. 

Aunt Pol was always quick on her feet and thought of a plan to get herself out of that situation almost instantly. Aunt Pol leaned in and kissed the Inspector unexpectedly, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He pulled away from her and shot her a disgusted look. “Sorry, I misunderstood your intention when you pushed me against the wall.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter. Inspector Campbell used a piece of cloth to wipe his mouth before moving to let a team of coppers into the building. You weren’t raised in the Christian faith, but you still felt like them invading this holy space was vile and wrong. “Turn the place upside down,” Campbell spat. He then turned his attention back to you and your aunt. “Arthur Shelby said you people would help us.”

“How are we supposed to help if you won’t actually tell us anything about why you’re really here?” you asked.

Polly smiled at you again. “The girl has a point. If we don’t know what you’ve lost, how can we help you find it?” 

The Inspector ignored you both. “But I have found out subsequently that I was speaking to the wrong man. Next time, I want to talk to the boss.” The Inspector turned to leave. “Lickey Tea Rooms. Friday, ten o’clock. And when I say “the boss,” I mean Thomas.”

You watched Aunt Pol’s face closely. Her expression dimmed slightly as the Inspector left. “What could they possibly be searching for that’s so important? They are turning our poor city upside down, looking for it.”

Polly shook her head, “I don’t know, Y/n,” you were smart. You didn’t believe her when she said that. You were like her and Tommy in that way– you could always tell when someone was lying to you. However, for the time being, you decided to let it rest. “We’ll have to have a family meeting when the boys get back to town. Tommy won’t be pleased with the state of the city.”

You nodded. “That’s for sure. He won’t be happy when he sees the state of the local pubs and such. This copper is even more bad news than I thought he would be.”

| < ♥️ > |

“The coppers told everyone Arthur had agreed to it when he was arrested. They said the Peaky Blinders had cleared out to the fair to let them do it,” Aunt Pol said. Her tone was somewhere between scolding and informative.   

“I never said nothing to that copper about smashing up bloody houses,” Arthur fired back.

“All right. Which pubs did they do?” Tommy asked.

“The Guns, the Chains, the Marquis. All the ones that pay you to protect them. Only one they didn’t touch was the garrison. Make sure people think we were in on it. He’s smart, this copper,” Aunt Pol explained downly. “So go on. Drink your beer, get out. You’d better show people you are still the cocks of the walk.” Everyone began to stand up from the meeting. Tommy started saying something, but you weren’t paying him much attention. You were caught up in your own thoughts about what the copper could possibly want from your town, from your family that he would go to such great lengths to make your reputation go downhill. You were following Arthur and John out when you noticed Aunt Polly close the doors behind you. Usually you wouldn’t think much of this, but something in your gut told you Aunt Pol and Tommy in a room alone together right now was not good. You knew they would kill you if they caught you, but you couldn’t help yourself. After Arthur and John had long forgotten about you, you put your ear up to the door. Some of the men working gave you a funny look, but they dared not question you. You might be young, but you were still a Shelby. “So we both know what they were looking for,” Aunt Pol started. “You don’t read the papers.”

“Racing papers.”

“So let me tell you the odds. I reckon it’s three to one; there’ll be a revolution.” 

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

“That copper’s betting on it,” you could make out the disapproval in Aunt Pol’s voice even through the door. “He’s not going to let it rest till he gets those guns back.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Guns? What guns are they talking about?

“Did he talk to you, Pol?”

“Me and Y/n. In the church.”

“What did he know of our darling, Y/n?”

You smiled at the name. “Nothing.”

“Did he try to find our Ada?”

“She was sleeping,” Pol explained. 

“Where was she sleeping, Pol?” Tommy asked. You could feel your forehead and hands becoming sweaty. How does he already know something’s up with Ada’s love life? You decided then and there that it was best to back away from the door slowly. The wood of the floor creaked ever so slightly, and you held your breath, but the conversation in the room beyond the doors continued. 

| < ♥️ > |

Life was pretty quiet for a few days. You were quite saddened by the death of Tommy’s new horse, but your brothers did their best to cheer you up. They knew that you got attached to animals rather quickly, and this horse had been no exception. Tommy promised he would figure out a way to make it up to you since he knew you were so looking forward to riding his horse. One way he knew how to cheer you up was by letting Grace have her way with music at the garrison. Saturday night came around, and Tommy invited you to join him and your brothers. The patrons of the Garrison were singing loudly while you sat with your brothers. You smiled brightly as Grace came in to serve you all. “Did you want whiskey as well?” she asked.

“No. Just beer,” Tommy replied. You eyed him carefully. That was very out of character for him at this point in his life. Tommy pretty much always wanted Whiskey.   

“Why no whiskey, Tommy? Are you expecting trouble?” Arthur asked.

Tommy didn’t answer his brother. His attention turned to John, who spoke with a snicker in his voice. “Jesus Christ, Tommy, what the hell made you let them sing? They sound like they’re strangling cats out there.”

You stopped paying attention for a minute, getting lost in the sounds of the bar around you. That is until Arthur mentioned your dad. “Fast women and slow horses… will ruin your life.” For a moment, Tommy almost smiled. It was a pleasant thing to see your brothers happy again, but that was quickly ruined by someone pulling up outside. “Coppers?” Arthur asked.

“No,” Tommy answered.

“Is there any man here named Shelby?” A male voice you didn’t recognize called out. His words were followed by silence and then a gunshot. 

You covered your ears and gasped. Tommy shushed you quietly, briefly pulling you into his side. “Sal’right, Y/n.”

“I said, is there any man here named Shelby?” The voice repeated itself in a slightly more irritated tone.

“Stay here, Y/n,” Tommy whispered. He, Arthur, and John got up from the table you all had been sitting at and made their way out of the room. They shut the door behind them, but that didn’t stop you from trying to listen in to everything going on. “Harry, get these men a drink. Everyone else, go home!”  

You heard the noises of the pub clearing out and Grace pouring drinks. Then, you heard Grace set something down on a table, followed by Tommy’s voice: “You go home.”

“But Mr. Fenton said–”

“I said, go home.” You could hear Grace walking away. 

The man’s voice from early cut through the air like a knife, “I’ve never approved of women in pubs, but when they look like that…”

It made you sick to your stomach. He was gross; you could just feel it in your bones. “You said you wanted men called Shelby. You’ve got three of them,” Tommy said.

“I’d never heard of you. Then I did hear of you. Some little Diddicoy razor gang. I thought to myself, ‘So, what?’ But then you fuck me over. So now you have my undivided attention,” he paused, “By the way, which one am I talking to? Who’s the boss?”

“Well, I’m the oldest,” Arthur stated.

The man scoffed. “Clearly.”

“Are you laughing at my brother?” John asked. You knew that tone of voice. It was the tone he used when he was about ready to fight someone. You gulped and prayed that Tommy stepping in would help the situation and not hurt it. 

“Right, he’s the oldest; you’re the thickest. I’m told the boss is called Tommy, and I’m guessing that’s you, ‘cause you’re looking me up and down like I’m a fucking tart,” He spat. 

“I want to know what you want,” Tommy said.

“There were suspicious betting patterns at Kempton Park. A horse called Monaghan Boy. He won by a length twice and then finished last with 3,000 pounds bet on him,” another voice replied. You didn’t recognize this voice either. It sounded softer and kinder than the other new voice in the room. 

“Which one am I talking to? Which one of you is the boss?” Tommy cooly questioned. He was playing with them. Your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t feel like that was a smart move, but it was very much something Tommy liked to do. 

You couldn’t help yourself at this point in the conversation; you had to see what was going on out there. You carefully crept over to the door, turned the handle as quietly as you could, and cracked it. “I am Mr. Kimber’s adviser and accountant,” The softer voice, the man seated closer to you, said. 

“And I’m the fucking boss. Okay, right, end of parley. You fixed a race without my permission,” the man you had come to know as Billy Kimber shouted. He was standing now. “You fucking Gypsy scum–”

Without thinking, you swung the door open. “Fixed race or not, how dare you speak to my brothers that way.”

“Y/n–” Tommy tried to silence you. It didn’t work. Kimber’s goons had their guns pointed in your direction, but you tried not to let it bother you. You were a Shelby, after all. This was not the first time a gun had been pulled on you.

 “Now who the fuck is this?” Kimber asked. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes trailed up and down your body, making your skin grow cold. “What did I just say about women in pubs?”

“She’s no one, Mr. Kimber,” Tommy said smoothly. “If we could get back to what we were discussing–” He was trying to remain calm, but you could tell just by the sound of his voice that he was deeply angry with you for stepping out of hiding. 

“Clearly, she’s someone if she’s been spying on our business talk.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you. He moved brashly, reaching out toward you without a second thought. His hand made contact with your bicep. His fingertips were clammy and slick with sweat. He yanked you from your position in the doorway. “Who do you think you are, whore? Speaking to me like that? I am Billy Kimber; I run the races!”

“I don’t care that you run the races. You said you wanted a man named Shelby; well, you’ve got three of them and one woman. You could be King bloody George for all I care. No one disrespects my brothers and gets away with it,” you fired back. There was rage behind your eyes. Unlike the first time you uttered the phrase ‘my brothers,’ Kimber seemed to understand now that you were in some way a Shelby. 

“You know, I thought you were quite pretty like that barmaid from earlier before you opened your big fucking mouth,” Kimber replied through gritted teeth. “It makes sense, though, of course, you’re a Shelby too. Anyone with that much courage and stupidity must be related to Tommy.” This is where things took a turn that you weren’t expecting. Kimber released his grip on your arm and, with all his might, shoved you to the floor. “I refuse to be spoken down to by a woman, especially a Shelby one at that. You filthy bitch.” You tried to catch yourself, but the skin on your hand ended up snagging on a rough piece of the wooden floor. It began to bleed as you lay on your side. Kimber kicked you in the stomach as he said those last three words. He turned his attention back to Tommy. That was when Tommy had enough. “Your whore sister is on my last nerve, and you fixed one of my races, so I’m going to have you shot against a post.”

Kimber turned to leave, but Tommy called after him. You saw Tommy toss something to him, but you couldn’t quite make out what it was. “Look at it,” your brother said. “That is my name in it. It’s from the Lee family. You are also at war with the Lees, Mr. Kimber, am I right?” Tommy knew he had Kimber hooked as he walked back toward the conversation. “The Lees are attacking your bookies and taking your money. Your men can’t control them. You need help.”

“Perhaps we should listen to what Mr. Shelby has to say before we make our decisions,” Kimber’s accountant said.  

“Right. The Lees are doing a lot of talking at the fairs. They have a lot of kin. They’re saying the race tracks are easy meat because the police are busy with strikes. Now, we have connections. We know how they operate. You have muscle. Together, we can beat them. Divided, maybe not,” Tommy explained. 

“Mr. Kimber, perhaps we should take some time for reflection, possibly make arrangements for a second meeting,” The accountant continued. 

“Before you knocked my little sister to the ground, I was prepared to say I admired you, Mr. Kimber. You started with nothing and built a legitimate business. It would almost be an honor to work with you, Mr. Kimber,” Tommy finished. You nearly laughed. If your hand didn’t hurt so bad, you might have. 

“Nobody works with me. People work for me,”  Kimber tossed. He pulled a coin out of his pocket and threw it on the floor. It landed a few inches from your face. “Pick it up, pikey.”

You saw John’s feet move, but Tommy hushed him. “Sit… Sit down.”

You made eye contact with Tommy as he picked up the coin. The look on his face was a mixture of worry and anger. You weren’t sure if the anger was directed at you or at Billy Kimber. “It’s for your ceiling.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kimber,” Tommy said politely as Kimber actually left this time.

“We will be at Cheltenham,” was the last thing the accountant said before he made his leave. 

“As will I,” Tommy replied. As soon as the coast was clear, Tommy sprung into action. He made his way around the table and wordlessly helped you up off the floor. 

“Jesus, Y/n. Are you alright?” John asked. 

You nodded. “Aside from a cut on my hand, I think I’m fine.”

Tommy quickly grabbed your hand and began looking over the injury. “John, go to the back of the bar and grab Harry’s first aid kit. I’ll patch up Y/n’s hand,” Tommy’s voice was even and low, but you could still feel the anger radiating off of him.

“I was just keeping our promise, Tommy,” you replied in a hushed tone. You did so almost so you wouldn’t spook a wild animal. 

It was years ago now, but you still remember it like it was yesterday—the day the boys were all drafted for the war. You were young then, barely 11 or 12, when the drafting officer came. You didn’t understand why they were taking all your brothers away from you, but it was breaking your heart. Your brothers were packing their things, and the officer was waiting in the doorway for them. “You can’t take all three,” you cried, “I won’t let you.”

The officer had a little bit of a heart and could see how much yours was breaking. “It’s not my choice, love. Your brothers have to fight for the king. Those are the rules. If I could, I would leave your family alone, trust me.” You didn’t know if he was saying that because he felt sorry for you or if it was because you were the Shelby clan. It didn’t really matter to you. John, Tommy, and Arthur were all being taken away from you for an unknown amount of time. You heard your brothers coming toward the doorway, and you used your body to block the way. 

You could see the sadness in Tommy’s eyes as he looked at you, “Y/n, we have to go.”

“But you can’t! What am I going to do without you here?”

“Aunt Pol is going to take great care of you; you always loved visiting her house,” Arthur chimed in. Tears began streaming down your face. You couldn’t hold them back any longer. 

“Now you’ve done it, Arthur, she’s cryin’,” John harped. 

“How was I supposed to know that’d make her cry?” He fired back.

“Hush it, the both of you,” Tommy said. He looked at his brothers briefly before focusing his attention on you. “We have to go, Y/n. We have to go fight for our country, but I promise you. We will come back. We will be a family again, but I need you to be strong for me, alright?” You nodded. “Thank you for standing up for us, but now it’s time for us to go.”

“I promise that I’ll keep standing up for you anytime you need it,” you said. You still had tears rolling down your face, but you stuck your pinkie out in front of you. 

Tommy knew what it meant without you saying anything, and he tossed you a soft smile as he gave you his pinkie. “And I will always look out for you.” Your fingers crossed, and you felt slightly better about the situation ahead. You still didn’t want your brothers to go, but at least they were promising to come back. 

Aunt Pol emerged from the depths of the house, followed by Ada. They both looked at you with sad expressions. “C’mon, Y/n, let the boys go,” Aunt Pol said. You looked up; you still weren’t ready for them to leave. 

“I don’t want them to go,” you said. 

Aunt Pol let out a long sigh and scooped you up from the doorway. You tried to worm your way out of her arms, but it was no use. She wasn’t going to let you go until the boys were long gone. 

“So you picked a fight with the Lees on purpose,” Arthur scolded, pulling you from your thoughts. “Tommy, we can’t mess with Billy fucking Kimber. Look what he did to our bloody sister.”

“Get yourself a decent haircut, man. We’re going to the races,” Tommy replied, taking a swig of the drink that Grace had originally poured for him. “And Y/n?”

“Yeah Tommy?”

“Next time we see Billy Kimber, you let me do all the talking, yeah?”

You smiled softly. “Not a chance in the world.”

-TO BE CONTINUED-

_____________________________________

TAGS: @tatumrileyslover @rubybinxx @haleypearce

[cillspropertea]

Flipped

Chapter 12: Doors and windows

The reader is Aberama Gold’s eldest daughter, Esmeralda Gold in this fic.

 Warnings: Talk about traumas, tense situations, intimacy 🔞🚨

 This fic might have dark themes which may irritate or offend some readers. But if you’ve seen Peaky Blinders and are familiar with Thomas Shelby, you’ll be okay.   The story, plot, character histories and back stories might not be relevant to the original “Peaky Blinders” . Warnings will change per chapter. This is my first fic. Hope you all like it. English is not my first language.

 Do not hesitate to comment, reblog and engage. It works as fuel for my writing. 😉💙💙

 Synopsis: Your father’s one mistake shall alter your life’s direction forever.

  Word count: 3225

Thomas Shelby

    It was late in the night and Thomas was itching with curiosity when he walked out of his office. He’d talked to Oliver, the driver who had taken Esmeralda on her ‘errand’ in the morning, he had no clue of what the girl was up to. He’d told him how she had directed him to simply wait near the woods as she’d went inside of them alone. Humming a response, he’d let the poor lad go, who was literally shivering with fear of losing his recently acquired job. Frowning he’d called Maggie at the exchange too, who had reported a phone call to Esme Shelby Lee and as directed by Thomas, had listened to the call too. She had been on the Shelby’s payroll to listen and report to every phone call made from the house other than Thomas himself. But she too could not report anything to Thomas as both the caller and the receiver had talked ‘In a foreign language, sir’ of course she would talk in Romani. He thought about it for a long time, trying to figure out this puzzle on his own but had given up coming to the understanding that there was no other way to get to the bottom of it than a direct confrontation. Still in his dress pants and shirt sans bowtie, he made his way towards Esmeralda’s room.

-----

   It was a dark night. Only the light from the torches they held lighted the way. They pushed her, poking her with pitchforks to move into the direction they wanted her to move in. Her mouth was gagged with a cloth while her hands were tied behind her back. She was crying, screaming her truth but no sound was coming out of her mouth. People were chanting, “Burn the witch, burn the witch who has killed our children, Burn the witch who wants to kill us all…” Soon she found herself in front of a tree. She knew this tree from somewhere. Just the sight of it made her howl in fear. She shook her head violently and tried to run away when she came in contact with a boot to her swollen belly. She fell on the ground trying to fold herself, to protect her unborn child.

    Someone grabbed her by her hair and started dragging her towards a stake right next to the tree. “It’s not you, it’s the Lee blood in you…” her grandmother’s voice rang in her ear. Malaiah tied her up on the stake and took off the cloth from her mouth. “Scream witch! Scream! No one will come for your help. No one shall come to your aid!” She watched as the people cheered her on. Her belly hurt so much. She wanted to cradle it, make the child inside feel she will protect it no matter what, but her hands were already tied.

    Looking around for anyone who would help her. A familiar face ready to take a stand but no one, no one was there. Then came Polly, smiling and holding a burning torch in her hands. Esmeralda tried to scream her name, call her to help her but no sound came out. Just air. Polly handed the torch to Malaiah and walked away to join the crowd. Malaiah lit her dress. The fire spread fast on her legs. Soon she could feel the burning licks of the flames on her body.

    “Esmeralda! Wake up. You are dreaming. Open your eyes!” She felt someone shake her shoulders firmly as her eyes fluttered open. She was drenched in sweat. Her throat felt like it was on fire. Her breathing was out of control. Her heart was beating so fast she felt it would jump out of her chest. She abruptly sat up, still fearful of the men with stakes and torches. “They are coming for me. They’ll be here any moment! Lock the doors! Lock the windows!” she was hysterical, trying to get up from the bed to perform the tasks herself.

    Thomas held her down. She pushed him, tried to scratch him but he did not let her get up. “No one’s coming. No one is coming Esmeralda!”  He gritted his teeth as he grabbed her face in his hands and forced her to look into his eyes. He shouted her name which finally made her look into his blue eyes. “No one is coming. No one will come.” His nose almost touching hers as her wide eyes watched him intensely, “And if someone does, then I am here. I won’t let them do anything to you! Do you hear me?” her eyes watered up. This sentence, this collection of words, this was all that took to break her. No one had said them to her, neither in her dreams nor her reality when she needed to hear them the most. “You don’t understand. I’ve tried everything. Everything! It just doesn’t end. It just doesn’t end Thomas” His hold softened as he closed his eyes. Hearing his name from her mouth sent a weird satisfaction through his mind. He couldn’t bear it, looking at her in this state. It was like looking in a mirror.

    She must have still been drowsy as she then pressed her face into the nook of his neck, sobbing uncontrollably. She needed this, needed this touch, this warmth. Thomas on the other hand had stilled at first. But had then simply cradled her exhausted body and broken soul into his arms, letting his chin rest near her temple. She continued, “I see people coming for me, with torches and pitchforks. Sometimes it’s me, sometimes it’s me in my mother’s body. But I always end up there. Near that God forsaken tree!” Thomas hummed in response, having no idea about what she was talking about but mentally making notes and trying to understand.

    “When will this go away? I want to know, I can’t take it anymore!” She sniffled. “It won’t go away.” He gulped gently, “But with time you’ll get used to it. And… get better at hiding it.”

    She listened with her eyes closed and face resting against his chest. His shirt was drenched in her tears.  Then it dawned on her, he understood. He understood because he was telling her from his own experience.

    Thomas contemplated if he should say the next part or not but then he just did, “I can still hear the shovels against the wall sometimes. As if the enemy could break in at any point to kill me. And sometimes it’s… it’s my wife’s last breaths I can hear” Gradually, she moved back and when she looked in his eyes, she found nothing but understanding and compassion. “So I know.” He murmured. She stared into his baby blues, hazy and under the same spell as hers. Wordlessly, they both closed their eyes, as they let their noses touch. Their lips hovered above each other’s, breathing in one another’s breaths.

   (Gif by: @alionaw)

‘Is he regretting it? And am I not?’ Esmeralda thought to herself. Her thoughts still scattered half because of the nightmare and the rest because of this kiss. Her first kiss. The awkwardness of the situation seeped in as she further moved away “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… this is…Ow!” her hair got tugged painfully, stuck in one of Thomas’s shirt buttons. Hissing she tried to free them pulling her head away hard, but to no avail. “Wait.” Thomas was trying hard not to smile as he worked with his fingers to free her hair.

Esmeralda was the one who gave in. She tenderly pressed her lips to his. They felt so soft and gentle to Thomas. They tasted of tears. It gave him all the permission he needed. His lips responded with so much passion that she found it a bit hard to keep up. Her kisses were soft and gentle while his were intense and demanding. He held her face in both of his hands as his passion took over. Hers were on his back, pressing him further towards her. Thomas could feel every curve, every dip and every rise of her body, pressed against him. His tongue skimmed over her lower lip making her moan in his mouth. But both of them felt like this was something they had craved for a very long time. This felt… right. The need to take it further was growing in both of them but Thomas broke away. He knew he didn’t deserve it. After all he’d lost, he did not think he had anything to give back to this girl who deserved all the happiness in the world. She deserved someone who would bring the world to her feet, someone who would show her the good side of life, especially after all she’d been through. Not a bad guy like him who always ended up destroying the things he loved. “I’m sorry…” he said as he let her move away a bit, fighting hard against his want and need he’d felt after a long time inside of him. They were both out of breath and trying to come back from the high they’d both conjured up inside of themselves.

    Finally free, she snatched the dressing gown which was discarded carelessly on the floor and wore it, covering her almost naked body. But Thomas had already seen her prominent slender form with perked nipples, felt them too when they’d embraced and kissed. He’d had enough ‘experiences’ with women to know when they were turned on. Esmeralda folded her arms over them blushing profusely, not knowing Thomas wasn’t that unaffected either. He knew he had a hard on as he tried to adjust himself without letting Esmeralda notice.

    She wanted to thank him, not exactly sure for what. For his kind words? For his touch? Or for simply waking her up. Her lips on his chest, his embrace, all of those things fogging up her already confused mind. She still did not have any answers to those questions but she whispered a thanks any way. Thomas too was a bit baffled because of the whole situation, which was turning awkward by the minute, but managed to say a ‘Don’t mention it’ in return, still thinking of her scent. He simply nodded once and went out of her room.  

-----

    Thomas simply did not know what to do. He had knocked a couple of times on the door but when no one had answered, he’d heard Esmeralda’s deep heaving breaths from the inside. At first he’d thought she was… doing ‘something else’ and it was better that he did not disturb her, but then the screaming had started. He’d kicked the door open and found her asleep, screaming her lungs out from a nightmare.

    Everything that had transpired was disturbing Thomas enough to pace with his hands on his hips. He’d had several drinks after coming into his room, making him sway a bit. He’d seen it. The girl had feelings for him and it could be possible that they were so new that even she, herself, was unaware of them.

    Women did fall for him, all the time. He liked to think it was the money and the power that made them attracted towards him but this was different. Different in the sense that he was feeling something himself too. Not love, he hoped, he had named his emotions towards Grace ‘Love’ but this was something more potent. A different flavor altogether. There was no comparison between what he had with his wife towards what he was feeling at that moment. It was scaring him. He’d let himself fall, let himself go in that direction with Grace. And then the joke was on him when he’d lost her the way he did. “So is she thawing that heart of yours again Thomas? Will you let her take you away from me? eh?” he heard her say from near the dresser. Her scent infiltrated his senses once more as grace got up from the stool and turned towards him. She was crying.

Esmeralda Gold

   Esmeralda had slept better than ever before. A surreal sort of contentment and delight had filled her body, except a new kind of need that had settled in her lower belly for something ‘more’ then the experience she had had last night. The kiss had been divine! ‘So this is what all the fuss is about?’ and his touch, God! And the noises that had escaped her mouth. She smiled, embarrassed, her cheeks reddened as her fingers slid over her lower lip ‘where his tongue had slid so shamelessly and… stop!’ she paused her minds ramblings. ‘Am I…? Surely I’m not. Certainly, it can’t be. Not Thomas fucking Shelby!’ Standing up, she looked up at her flushed reflection in the mirror, her smile faltered. She remembered how he’d acted after the kiss though. If he was happy or sad, she couldn’t tell. But there was definitely something ‘Right?’ And what about the plan? She slumped down on the stool. She knew there was a lot to talk about, a lot to plan, clear and contemplate between her and Thomas. But if he felt what she was feeling, whatever the hell this was, she would do it. This feeling, of satisfaction and gratification, she’d never felt it before, ever in her life. Someone wanting her, someone vowing to protect her “No one’s coming. No one is coming Esmeralda!... And if someone does, then I am here. I won’t let them do anything to you! Do you hear me?” his words from last night rang in her ears.

    If he reciprocated these feelings, Esmeralda thought to herself, then she would tell him. She would tell him everything.

----

    As soon as Esmeralda had finished getting ready, with a little too much detailing today, she’d heard the cars outside. Her face lit up even more, if it were possible. Charlie had come! She saw the cars entering the long drive-way. She hurriedly padded down the stairs and waited in the foyer. Right then the door to Thomas’s room opened too. He was dressed as immaculately as he always did, but then why did Esmeralda’s heart fluttered at the sight of him today? He came down the stairs in his navy blue dress pants and waistcoat and stood a few paces away from her, looking outside. Esmeralda frowned. She wasn’t a fool under the assumption that he would hold her in his arms and spin her about but a simple good morning was definitely in her expectations. She simply shook her head a bit and looked forward as well as the cars now lined one by one in the parking, around the fountain. ‘Maybe he’s worried about his son’s health?’ she thought. But then she heard footsteps from behind her, from the staircase. A woman in a sheer nighty had stepped out of Thomas’s room, putting her arms through a long brown coat as she made her way down towards them. Esmeralda’s eyes flashed towards his face but he did not even flinch. He simply took out a cigarette and lit it after putting it between his lips. With every tap of the woman’s heel on the stairs, Esmeralda’s heart was breaking into a million pieces.

   Her eyes filled with tears but she didn’t dare blink and let them flow out. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. The woman walked towards Thomas and without a word took out his cigarette and kissed him on the mouth. Esmeralda looked away and focused hard on the commotion outside. “Last night was absolutely magnificent Thomas. I am looking forward to our relationship so much more now.” The girl said in a foreign accent. Thomas scoffed and, as politely as he could, snatched the cigarette back from her fingers and took a long puff from it. “Hey you!” she shouted, making Esmeralda jump. “You arr da maid yeah? Go get my suitcase!” She barked. Before Esmeralda could even turn towards them, Thomas called for Frances in a bored monotone voice and asked her to get the lady’s stuff from the guest room and place it in one of his cars where Robert was already waiting for her.

    Esmeralda gradually started taking a few steps back. She wanted to go into her room and cry all the disappointment out before facing Thomas Shelby again but right before she could she heard Aunt Polly call out her name. “Esmeralda! Oh love I missed you so much!” she hugged her. It was taking every ounce of Esmeralda’s strength to not break down. She smiled the best she could, she did genuinely feel happy seeing Polly, but she had to admit, the fucker had shocked her, the jolts of which she could still feel in her bones. ‘Just a few minutes more. Hang in there Esmeralda! Don’t let them know your weakness!’ she made herself belief again and again. Polly held her face in her hands, “How are you dear? Feeling okay?” Esmeralda nodded, “Yes Polly, why wouldn’t I be? I’m so happy you are back!” she beamed. Polly kissed her forehead and moved on to greet her nephew, with a lot less enthusiasm but a kind of affection she could feel in waves even when they were a few paces away from her.

     Then came in Arthur holding Charlie in his arms. Just when Thomas was about to walk towards him to hold Charlie Aunt Polly stopped him. “Uh uh! Wait Tommy let me show you something.” She clasped her palms together and hurried towards Arthur. Holding Charlie, she gently made him stand on the floor and asked Thomas to call onto him, still holding him from his arms. “Eih Charlie c’mere darling! C’mere to daddy!” Tommy called and cooed Charlie towards him as Esmeralda watched from behind, in a dull aching daze. Charlie’s eyes twinkled as his chubby face lit up with a drooly, dimpled smile. He put an uncertain foot in front, one after the other, trying to balance his body utterly unused to walking. Tommy’s eyes welled up. His little boy was walking! Charlie, utterly focused on his father’s voice, kept on moving forward as Polly crawled behind him while circling her arms around protectively, just in case the little angel fell. Thomas waited with opened arms. He’d missed his son so much. He simply wanted to hold him. He thought about how he could take today off and both of them could spend it together. 

     But right when Charlie was about to reach him, he changed his direction. “Oh!” Polly exclaimed, still behind him. With shortest steps, Charlie walked right past Thomas and started making his way towards Esmeralda. She was shocked, to such an extent that for a second she could not move. Charlie made it to her and raised his hand towards her, pleading her to pick him up. Just when the little baby was about to fall down, exhausted from the tiny steps he’d taken, Esmeralda hurriedly knelt down and picked him up. The tears she had been holding inside of her eyes flowed out with a whole different meaning. She smiled as Aunt Polly pinched Charles’s cheeks, “Looks like our Charles has a new favorite eh Tommy?” she turned towards her nephew just in time to watch his back before he closed the office door behind him.          

[divinekangaroo]

falling - pettiot - Peaky Blinders (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

PART ONE - DAY ONE

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9

PART TWO - MONTH ONE (Or Maybe Month Two, Or Three)

Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17 | Ch 18

PART THREE - YEAR ONE (Or So)

Ch 19 | Ch 20 | Ch 21 | Ch 22 | Ch 23 | Ch 24 | Ch 25 | Ch 26 | Ch 27

CODA - ENDLESS

Ch 28 | Ch 29 | Ch 30 | Ch 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 |

A Modern AU take on Tommy's immediate return from military service, and the period between his demobilisation and the start of S1.

(Tags shall be progressively updated)

.

Tommy Shelby/Lizzie Stark, Tommy Shelby/Freddie Thorne, Arthur Shelby, Polly Grey, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Johnny Dogs, Various Lees, John Shelby's Children, Mr Zhang, Mai Zhang (S1E1 Red Dust Girl), Sergeant Moss, Esme Lee, Jeremiah Jesus, Danny Whizz-Bang Owen, Vicente Changretta, Matteo (S4 Mafia Lieutenant), Zilpha Lee, Alfie Solomons, Mrs Shelby, Darby Sabini, Charles Strong, Curly, Finn Shelby | Alternative Universe, Modern AU (ish), more tags at the link

[kingsroad]

ARTHUR SHELBY IN PEAKY BLINDERS, S03E03.

[toms-cherry-trees]

OOh this is gonna be fun! And long!

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Aemond & Maylen

Love Is More Than A Kiss (Arthur Shelby)

Aemond x Wife

DHMH CH.4

Ash and Shadows (Tommy Shelby)

Snippet OC X Daemon

Goodbye My Lover (Aegon)

Flight Of Freedom (Aemond)

Lessons Pt. 2

Robb x Female Kingsguard (?)

Cregan x Wife this is filthy

What About Us (John Shelby)

I don't have enough moots to tag so this is up for everyone who wants to do it!

Thank you for the tag my love!! @arcielee 🤍

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Some of these are old, but idk maybe I'll try to finish them someday.

wanting was enough - Modern!Aegon (mini series)

invisible string ch 6 - Modern!Aegon (series)

anne boleyn based fic - King!Aegon (series)

lmfyhitpr - modern!cregan (the title is a lana del rey lyrics)

now you're safe - dilf!Cregan

serendipity - modern!cregan

daylight - hockey player!cregan (series)

worthy of you - cregan stark

I have a few more but I lost interest in those stories or stopped writing about the character it was about, so...

NO PRESSURE TAGS — @bucknastysbabe @aemondsbabe @aemondtarqaryens @marthawrites @asa-do-your-thing