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cupidbread · 3 months

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The older I get | Shelby family x sister!Reader Modern AU

Summary: after being away for years, you must return to Small Heath to face the loss of a beloved one. But, will you be able to forgive the past and leave it behind? A/N: English is not my first language, sorry in advance if something makes no sense. Warning: death of a family member, angst. Words: 3.1k

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

"Y/N? Honey, are you still there?" Lizzie's soft voice echoed through the phone.

"Yes, thanks for calling," you said, fighting back the urge to cry. "Hey, why hasn't he called me?"

Lizzie sighed tiredly. "He's busy with work. Besides, he wanted someone else to tell you in case you didn't take it well."

"How the hell am I supposed to take this?" You asked with anger filling your veins. It wasn't Lizzie's fault and it wasn't fair to take out your frustration on her but you couldn't help it.

"I know," she conceded, "but you know your brother, he's having a hard time. Everyone's having a hard time."

Despite the lump in your throat, you nodded. Of course you understood but that didn't make you feel any better. Your Aunt Polly had just died and you had to find out through your brother's ex-wife.

"Thank you for taking the time to call me, see you tomorrow, well in a few hours," you hung up the phone and threw it hard against the mattress, it bounced several times before falling to the floor. The noise that the device made when it hit the ground resonated like an explosion in the silence of the night.

The tears you had been holding back rolled freely down your cheeks. You fell down on the bed, burying your face in the pillow and letting out a choked sob.

It was too late to go to Birmingham, or too early, depending on how you looked at it. In a few hours you would take the first train so you could attend the funeral. You weren't sure what scared you more, facing the reality that Polly was gone or being in the same room with all your siblings again after seven years apart.

Since you couldn't fall asleep in the remaining hours until dawn, you packed some clothes and personal items, not many because you didn't plan to stay in Birmingham for too long, and tidied up your room. Cleaning would keep your mind busy.

The train ride was a fucking nightmare. Despite it being so early, your car was full of people, people with children who couldn't stop screaming and running between the seats. Wasn't anyone capable of teaching their children some manners? The boy right behind you had been kicking the back of your seat for more than twenty minutes, the damn thing.

Taking a deep breath, you rested your head on the window as you watched the landscape and tried not to think. The soft rattle of the train rocked you as if trying to comfort you. However, it was not that simple. Memories of your childhood in Small Heath flooded your mind, some of them good, some others the kind you would have liked to banish from your memory. The kind of ones that made you take the decision to put some distance between you and your family in the first place.

Finn and you, as twins, were the youngest with a considerable age difference compared to the rest of your siblings. Due to family problems, your parents had always been absent from your life, so your Aunt Poll practically raised you as her own. Polly was the closest thing you had ever had to a mother figure.

Your childhood and adolescence weren’t easy. Deep down you felt bad for thinking like that, you knew that your older brothers had had it worse while your father still lived with them, but still. As a teenager nothing seemed fair.

It was all screams and arguments, a house immersed in violence. Aunt Polly began to drink more and more, Arthur only thinking of his drugs or who knows what, which caused more fights. When the shouting started you used to run to your room and close the door, getting into bed, covering your head with a blanket and listening to music at full volume until your ears hurt.

And then you prayed just as Polly had taught you. You prayed that you would fall asleep and wake up with another family, a normal family where no one screamed or came back in the middle of the night beaten up and covered in blood.

You wiped away the tears falling down your cheeks with the back of your hand as you noticed a little girl staring at you.

"Why are you crying?" she asked in a squeaky childish voice.

Before you had time to make up any excuse a man who must have been her father spoke out loud, clearly making fun of you.

"She broke up with her boyfriend, right, pretty face?"

The look you gave him could rival Tommy's. No one would hesitate to say that you were a Shelby. Slowly, his smile faded from his face and he looked away embarrassed, grabbing the girl by the arm to make her return to her seat.

When you finally got off the train, your eyes were swollen and your nose was red from crying. You took a couple steps through the station and then stopped. Who were you looking for? You didn't even know if anyone was going to pick you up.

“Y/N!”

Turning around, you looked everywhere trying to find who was calling you. They could be calling someone else but the voice was too familiar to be a mistake. And then you saw him, a few metres from the entrance, greeting you with his arm and a huge smile.

"Hello, Isaiah," you said with a small voice. He wrapped his strong arms around you in a tight hug and you buried your face in his chest, a position similar to the one you two shared the last time you said goodbye.

"How are you?" He asked when you stepped away but he immediately rolled his eyes. "Sorry, that was a stupid question."

"It's okay, I'm fine. What about you?"

He shrugged. "Great, given the circumstances. I have the privilege of picking up and bringing home the princess of Small Heath," he joked, winking playfully.

You hit him on the arm, of course not hurting him. You followed him only to stop next to the car, he took your bag and put it in the trunk. Once inside, Isaiah pulled out and placed his cell phone on your thigh. "You can choose the music."

The ride was quiet, both of you listening to your favourite songs and humming or making up the lyrics from time to time, like when you were teenagers and ran away from home along with Finn.

"Why did you come to pick me up at the train station?"

Isaiah glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, not really taking his eyes off the road and remained silent for a few seconds. "Why, am I not enough for you?" he joked, in an attempt to light up the mood.

"I won’t hit you because you're driving" you murmured, he laughed softly. "My brothers, why have none of them come? I know Ada was busy with the kids, she texted but they haven’t even talked to me.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know. You should talk to them about that. You've been away for many years, they've changed."

You nodded silently. It had started to rain. "Sure. Thanks for coming to pick me up, Isaiah."

He squeezed your leg. "You know I'll always be there for you."

The rain was now pouring fiercely as a reflection of your current mood.

Everything in the house screamed Polly, every corner reminded you of your childhood. It would always keep fascinating you how a simple scent could bring you back in time so easily. Blinking rapidly, you tried to clear your cloudy sight. Ada stepped in front of you, hugging you and murmuring comforting words in your ear and you leaned into her. You had missed her so much in the past few years.

As a little girl you felt devotion towards your only sister. You wanted to spend time with her, sometimes you stole her make up and she ended up mad at you because of it. The rest of the time she just pushed you away, not wanting to babysit you. Back then you thought it was unfair but now you understand, Ada was a teenager and she wanted to go out with her friends and her boyfriend, not staying at home with two little kids.

However, as you got older, it was more and more common for your sister to call to include you in her life.

"Will you stay with me and the children? Hey, Y/N. Are you listening to me?"

You looked at her worried face and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Ada. I don’t want to spend more time here than necessary.”

Ada rubbed your arm as she gave you a sympathetic look. “I know, dear. Have you seen the others? Or Polly?”

Your heart jumped against your ribs with fury. “No, not yet.”

“Y/N!” Arthur called out, striding towards your direction. He stopped a step away from you, undecided whether to give you a hug or not. He looked thinner than you remembered. Actually, he looked older. You were the one who stepped forward and hugged his slender body. He reciprocated right away, burying his face in your hair and sobbing.

“It’s okay, Arthur” you whispered against his chest.

Taking a step back, you stared at him once again, mentally thanking that he wasn’t the one picking you up from the train station. He was a total mess.

Somehow, seeing your older brother like that sent a pang of guilt directed to your guts. Arthur used to be energetic, fierce and chaotic, but this man in front of you was nothing like that. He seemed like he needed a warm blanket and a cup of tea, and maybe sleeping for a couple days without worries.

“Arthur, why don’t we go and talk to Lizzie?” suggested Ada, linking her arm with his and pulling him away. He smiled at you with his blue eyes filled with tears and reached to grab your hand but Ada didn’t let him do it. “Let's give Y/N some space, alright?”

You had been holding your breath without realising it. As soon as they left you alone you let out the air, feeling your lungs deflate. Throughout the house you could hear children screaming while playing, unaware of the sadness that filled the air. They were your nephews and nieces. Mostly John’s kids. You wondered if he was a good father now. When you were ten years old he used to make you watch horror movies such as The Exorcist or It, and then he laughed when you cried terrified at night.

The lump in your throat became more noticeable, you needed to get out of there.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Finn and Isaiah talking quietly to Michael and a blonde girl you didn't know. Avoiding crossing glances with them, you headed to the kitchen looking for the door that led to the backyard. If you did, you would have to stop and talk to them, exactly what you didn't want to do at that moment.

You weren’t expecting to see Polly’s coffin in one of the rooms so you turned your face away when you walked by its door, almost running until you reached the knob of the door that led to the backyard and turned it, opening the door and stepping outside. The chill wind helped to cool down your feverish cheeks.

After closing the door behind you, you leaned against the cold wall, eyes closed, trying to calm yourself down.

I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, you thought, placing a hand over your heart. I'm sorry for not saying goodbye to you, Aunt Polly, for not taking time to tell you how much I loved you. I was angry with all of you. I'm sorry, I promise to think of you and to not forget your name. Polly. Elizabeth Gray.

Letting out a choked sob, you opened your eyes. You didn't know if Polly was able to hear you, wherever she was now, but you sincerely hoped that your message would reach her somehow.

Someone clearing their throat made you jump. To your right, leaning against the wall just like you was Tommy, taking long drags on a cigarette, as if his intention was to suck the life out of it. "Damn Tommy, you scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here?" you yelled at him, brushing your hair out of your face and furiously wiping away your tears.

He shrugged and let out a puff of smoke. “Same as you.”

His voice was deep and hoarse, like if he had been crying. He used to be really close to Polly and now that you thought about it, it made sense. Just like Arthur, his appearance surprised you.

In your memories Tommy was a young man with his freckles and blue eyes, the dark hair slightly curled at the ends when he let it grow and an encouraging smile that he only reserved for you and your siblings. That was the brother who taught you how to ride a bike and how to swim in the canal, how to take care of horses during the summer breaks and the one who used to tell you stories with funny voices whenever you couldn’t sleep at night.

There was almost nothing of that brother in the man in front of you. Tommy was old. It had been around seven years since you moved away to go to university but time had hit him hard. He was in his forties now and his hair was turning grey in some parts, the wrinkles much more noticeable as well as the deep dark circles under his eyes.

He threw the remainder of the cigarette on the floor and looked at you thoroughly, as if he were analysing you from head to toe. A mix of emotions crossed his face but you weren’t sure to be interpreting them correctly, such as a slight panic, a bit of sadness and finally something similar to approval.

“You look good,” he stated, “how is school? Everything alright?”

Your eyes filled with tears once more but this time you didn't hold them back. All the rage that had been growing inside of you since Lizzie called you a few hours earlier came out freely. “I’m not in school anymore Tommy, I’m a PhD student and I’m writing my fucking thesis so don’t talk to me as if I were a stupid child.”

He seemed taken aback by your sudden anger. “It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like that” he apologised before clearing his throat, raising an eyebrow, “but if you haven’t noticed, you’ll always be a kid to me.”

Tommy didn’t let you say anything back, continuing with his speech. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he stared at some point far away in the distance.

“When you were born I was the first to hold you in my arms. You were so tiny, I could carry your little body with both my hands. Finn started gaining weight so damn fast but you didn’t and we thought you’d never make it” he pursed his lips as you listened in silence, although you had heard him telling you this story many times when you were younger. “Every hour we had to feed you a bottle of formula and it was no bigger than my finger” he pointed his index finger in front of you as a measurement. “It seemed like a toy. But it worked, just look at you now.”

He turned to you and wiped your tears with his callous hands.

"Tommy, why didn't you tell me Polly was so sick?" you asked quietly, grabbing his wrists.

"You knew she was sick."

"Yes, but not enough to..." To die, you wanted to say, but the words got caught at your throat.

Your brother sighed and when he looked at you again, he seemed more tired than ever.

"I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. You have your life far from here, you yourself wanted it that way. Your priority is your studies, let me finish," he said, pointing a finger at you authoritatively. "What happened to Poll was so sudden, none of us expected this to happen and it has been a hard blow for everyone."

“I didn’t say goodbye to her,” you muttered.

Tommy held you against his body, hugging you tightly. “Me neither.”

You looked up at him, scrutinising his face. The rim of his eyes was red and his bottom lip trembled a little despite his attempt to hide it. He seemed somehow fragile.

“Oh, Tommy,” you whispered, throwing your arms around his neck and letting him bury his face on your shoulder. You felt the wetness of his tears as you caressed the back of his head. “Next time something like this happens, let me know. Call me and I’ll come. I’m not a kid anymore, I’m part of this family too and I can help. You don’t have to go through stuff on your own. Alright?”

As he nodded slightly with his face still pressed against your shoulder you felt the sudden realisation that you had been mistaken most of your life. All you wanted to do was run away from your family in order to be happier, thinking that they wouldn’t need you after living through your whole childhood feeling like a burden, like someone whom they had to take care of.

For years you had hated them because it seemed that they enjoyed being miserable day and night, continuously fighting with each other… you never stopped to think about the reasons behind all those arguments or their actions. But you were older now and life had taught you that we are all humans and we all make mistakes.

Now everything was different. For once you were the strong one, able to stand by their side to support them. This bunch of sad and broken people were your family and they needed you just as much as you needed them.

Sometimes it was better to put some distance in order to see things from a different perspective, to heal, you realised as you held the shadow of the man who used to be like a hero to you during your childhood. At the end of the day you would always come back to the place where you belonged. The only thing you regretted was not figuring it out sooner.

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cupidbread · 3 months

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MASTERLIST

Unchained Melody (Part One)

Summary: It had been almost two years since you had become overwhelmed by motherhood, fleeing from both your husband and son in attempts to escape the suffocating blanket of worries and self-doubt that had enveloped you. With a life now filled with poverty, you scrimp and save every shilling, every penny to make the costly weekly journey to catch a glimpse of your son from afar at the market. But your usual Sunday trip back to Birmingham suddenly turns your life upside down for a second time when you are unexpectedly faced with the presence of your husband and his refusal to let you do anything but return to Arrow house, back to him and your son.

Warnings: Language, angst, smut, mutual longing, postpartum depression

Word count: 4993

Authors Note: This series is inspired by another oldie but goldie, "Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers. Tommy's feelings will be heavily influenced by the lyrics of this melodic and timeless song throughout the story. The song Y/N sings to William is an old British classic called "I do like to be beside the seaside" .

"Calling at Birmingham New Street ladies and gentlemen, Birmingham New Street " the ticket conductor shouted walking briskly along the carriageway, going from coach to coach announcing the last and final call. One year, seven months and fifteen days. You thought to yourself picking at the frayed upholstered chair you was sitting on as a single solemn tear slipped over the curve of your cheek down into your lap, escaping the pools of your eyes too quickly for you to brush away. Not now Y/N. Don't start. You scolded yourself, not wanting to bring your fellow passengers' attention to your escaping emotions as you let yourself sink into the guilt you had been keeping tightly against your chest for almost two years, keeping it hidden from the vicious judgment and critical eyes it was undoubtedly worthy of as you did every Sunday you made the journey back to Birmingham, every Sunday you desperately tried to get a glimpse of your son from afar. Brushing the steady flow of tears from your face, you turned your head to the window, wiping the condensation that had built up on the tempered glass to see your reflection staring back at you, cruelly forcing you to see what you had become. Ragged clothing, unkempt hair and chapped hands, reddened from the countless hours you had worked night and day laundering linen for people that resembled your former self. You were unrecognisable, a far cry from the woman you once were, the wife and mother you once were. Broken and beaten, you were barely getting by with the hand life had dealt you. How had it come to this?

Nineteen and half months ago...

"He's crying darling. Y/N?" Tommy said, walking into the nursery after a relentless day in the city to find you in the rocking chair, aimlessly looking out the window as your son wailed loudly in your arms. You were starting to worry him. He'd been so occupied trying to make things legitimate for his new family that the long days he had spent with his head buried in paperwork were slowly turning into long sleepless nights stuck within the four walls of his office. The birth of his son had ignited an unstoppable force within him to keep the two people he loved the most safe and away from the wickedness of the world he himself played a role in, all at the behest and advice of those around him. He just had one more thing to do, one more thing to finalise, then he would stop. He'd promised himself.

"Tommy..." You muttered, blankly looking up at him as he took William from within your hold, the sudden quietness from his father's comforting warm arms snapping you out of your trance-like state. "He's hungry" you said as you picked up the small brown bear among all the various necessities needed to care for a child of only four months. "He just...he won't feed properly. Won't settle" you huffed, internally blaming yourself as you wiped the front of your blouse, reaching for your son, then suddenly recalling, afraid if you took him he'd start crying again. Was it you that unsettled him?

"He dropped his bear love, that's all. Maybe getting some teeth as well, ey little man?" Tommy said, looking at William as he tried to diffuse the criticism you were undoubtedly burdening yourself with. "Hey, c'mere" Tommy sighed, pulling you into his arms, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as tears welled in your eyes. You were slowly drifting away from him, he could feel it. But with Tommy being a man true to his time, he felt powerless as to what to do, what to say. Stiff upper lip, keep calm and carry on. The British way...maybe the wrong way. You'd pull through, wouldn't you? "We'll fetch him some warm cow's milk or a wet nurse, so you can get some sleep"

"No. No Tommy!" You angered quickly at the mere suggestion of anyone but you feeding your son, determined to battle through whatever it was that had a grasp on you without aid. "You think I'm a bad mum, don't you? You think I can't look after him?" you sobbed, your temper and fatigue spilling over into an angry display of pointing fingers and high emotions. You knew you were being unfair, you just...you couldn't help it. You needed an outlet for your mounting frustration, and unfortunately for Tommy he had the unlucky pleasure of being at the receiving end of it.

"Darling, I never said..." Tommy huffed, before you took your son back into your arms and your position in the rocking chair, your eyes fixing on a small light in the distance beyond the grounds of Arrow House as Williams bottom lip wobbled and his whimpers resumed. What would he do without you? Tommy reflected, a sudden feeling of guilt washing over him for all the nights he had spent away as he watched you in admiration, humming a soothing tune to his son, your fingers stroking gently over the curve of his ear and massaging the soft cushioned lobe until his cries quietened and he fell asleep. You were just tired, the small surprise weekend away in Blackpool he had planned in a few days time for the three of you would see an end to your worries. Sea air and sandy beaches, just what any doctor would order. Then he'd stop, he'd try harder. He'd promised himself.

" Fuck baby...you feel so good" Tommy moaned against your ear, his labored breath hot against your skin. "Let me make you feel good eh?" He said breathlessly, sliding his finger down between you both as he pressed on the small bundle of nerves swollen from his thrusts. Just relax. You told yourself. And for the love of god, stop fucking thinking too much. You berated yourself once again as you closed your eyes, a feeling of guilt pooling in your stomach from the little attention and affection you had given your husband since the birth of your son. One month since you were last intimate, one full month since you had let him get close to you. Had he been with someone else? Your brain quickly panicked at the thought of him with another woman when a hard thrust from Tommy had you moaning into his shoulder, your hands threading through his soft hair as he kissed down your neck sending a ripple of goosebumps over your body.

"Wait...Tommy not there" you pulled his head up as his tongue swiped over your nipple. "Shit" you huffed as a trickle of milk flowed down your cleavage whilst you frantically scrambled for the freshly laundered sheets to wipe away your embarrassment.

"Y/N, darling, it's ok" Tommy chuckled, kissing tenderly around your swollen breast as he rocked his hips into you, his thrusts suddenly intensifying when his eyes darted down to between you both. "Stop. Let me see you" he said, pushing your self-conscious hands away from shielding your stomach from the small scars you bared from nine months of carrying his child. " Fuck sweetheart...look at you" He moaned watching himself drive in and out of you, his wet length glistening, the sight sending a surge of pleasure through his throbbing cock. He's so into it. Why? Was he just saying these things, was he thinking of another woman? Your mind plagued you as you reluctantly kept your hands by your side. You felt like shit, looked worse than shit. That and your mind was elsewhere, to a never ending timetable of feeds and nappy changes you seemed incapable of getting right. As the room filled with the moans of your husband and the sound of his body basking in the awaited comfort of you he'd been patiently longing for, your eyes drifted over his lean shoulders to your suitcase covered by the netted curtains of your grand bedroom window. With the sudden fear that you had already made your decision, you turned your head to your husband, crashing your lips onto his as you held tightly onto his broad frame. Would this be the last time? The last time you felt the weight of his body on top of yours?

"Tommy..." you whimpered, a tear falling down the side of your cheek, desperate to tell him how much you were struggling as he gasped at your sudden eagerness, unaware of your inner turmoil in the throes of his own pleasure as a surge of electricity fueled by adoration pumped through his body, his imminent high quickly approaching. With every part of you clutching onto him, tightly clenching you both to a daze of heightened arousal, you let go, loudly crying your husband's name.

" Fuck...i'm gonna, Y/N I'm..." Tommy moaned incoherently into the curve of your neck as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh and his hips came to a sudden stop, releasing the built up tension he had been desperate to be rid of inside the tight warmth of your body with a shaky groan leaving his lips. "We've still got it eh?" Tommy chuckled breathlessly moments later as he settled down beside you, pulling you into his strong hold.

"Still" you replied quietly as you turned your head to look at him." I love you" you said longingly, your voice catching in your throat as you buried your face into his chest, hiding the shame in your eyes of the choice you knew you had made.

" I love you too. Y/N what's..." He said, tilting your chin up to look at him, cutting his words off and what he really wanted to ask, as the glazed over look in your eyes sent an uncomfortable heavy feeling of worry to the pit of his stomach. The far-away look in your eyes frightening him more than any enemy he had ever come up against. You were just tired, he'd call Polly tomorrow morning to come and help you with the baby. Tommy reassured himself as he held you tightly in his arms, his hand cupping the side of your head as he pressed a yearning kiss to your temple. This weekend would fix everything.

" Y/N...baby's crying..." Tommy mumbled half asleep as he rolled over, so used to you being the first to bolt up and hurry to your sons' whimpers. A dairy cow in human form, a living comforter to aid your son to sleep. You couldn't help but feel as you rubbed the fatigue from your dry eyes, another surge of guilt hurtling your way for thinking such things.

"Shhh darling, mummy's here" you said flatly as you approached his bassinet, picking him up and cradling him in your arms. "Please William, please stop crying. I'm so tired, I'm..." you sobbed, caressing his soft skin as you placed the tip of your finger to his mouth for him to suckle on. "What do I do? Help me William" you cried quietly in desperation, rocking him back and forth in your arms as you looked up at the ceiling, tears streaming down your face, your mind absent from the fact you were doing it, you were doing everything any mother would do in an attempt to soothe their child. Why couldn't you see it? "I don't know what's wrong with me" you sobbed to yourself, sniffing away the tears as you looked down at your son, his finger holding tightly onto yours as Frances the housekeeper listened outside the nursery door, her hand firmly enclosed around the handle, every part of her wanting to enter and magic your distress away. The thousand yard stare, they called it. She had seen it with her sister after the birth of her niece and then she saw it with you, the moment Tommy returned to work, popping your little bubble of the three of you lying in bed blissfully happy within the comfort of one another. She'd talk to Tommy in the morning. She promised herself as she backed away from the door, and back to her duties. She promised.

"Oh I do like to be beside...the seaside. Oh I do like to be beside the sea" you sang quietly, your bottom lip wobbling with each passing word. "I love you, I love you so much" you cried as you placed your son back into his cot, pulling out your handkerchief with your name embroidered delicately in the center for him to hold, hoping the scent of you engraved into the light fabric would comfort him in your absence." I'm sorry William, I...I can't be the mother you need " you sobbed as his little fingers clutched around the small piece of cotton. "Daddy will look after you, better than I can" you said as you bent down, placing a tender kiss to his head. "I just need a little break, a small one. I'll be back, I promise" Your voice broke, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gently glided your finger over his ear, caressing his soft skin and gently lulling him into sweet dreams and slumber. "Goodbye my love, my sweet, sweet boy" you cried, turning to the door and shutting it as a searing pain shot through your chest, through your shattered heart and the unbreakable bond a mother shares with her child, tearing and fraying from what you was about to do. Would you ever be able to come back from this?

"Come back to bed darling..." Tommy mumbled as you stood beside him, running your hands through the top of his hair, a quiet moan escaping his lips in response to your gentle touch as he lazily reached for your hand before his weighted eyes and tired body drifted him back into a heavy sleep.

"Soon Tommy..." You replied, muffling your sobs as you picked up your suitcase and turned to the door, glancing back one last time to your husband, to the love of your life. Meters away, it may as well have been miles. You thought to yourself as you came to the end of the long driveway of your home when the light of your son's bedroom suddenly turned on in the far distance and the loud call of your name from the depths of your husband's lungs resonated throughout the grounds. There was no going back now, it was done. They were better off without you.

Present day...

"Fuck sake" you mumbled quietly, hiding your face in your shoulder as you frantically wiped your tears away from the memory of the night when you abandoned your family and your former self. As you cursed yourself for being being so weak, so feeble, the small girl seated opposite you scrunched her brow in confusion, her little thoughts plagued with worry as to what had you so upset, as her mother, who looked as tired and weighed down with her own misgivings, sent you a sympathetic knowing smile.

"Hardly the time and place to let one's emotions get the better of them, this is public transport not a woman's bloody wash house" a man seated next to you clothed in the finest of suits grumbled rolling his eyes, begrudging the fact the train was not divided by class when the engine suddenly came to a stop and the mother ushered her daughter out of the carriage giving the gentleman a stern look, all while her daughter conveniently stepped onto, rather than other the pompous man's foot dirtying his perfectly polished loathers. "The little..." He spat as he folded his newspaper in half, turning to face you as if you had a role in the small girls worthy retribution. "Thiefs, whores and murderers. What would one except from this dump they call the second-biggest city in England" he seethed looking at you from head to toe as you stood to leave when he crassly stuck his foot out, causing you to fall face first onto the grimy train floor as a satisfied scoff left his lips. You were nothing to him, a beggar, the scum of the slums of the city he reluctantly found himself in. With no will or want to confront him about what you believe you undoubtedly deserved, you stood up, wiping the front of your dress down and adjusting your hat with only one thing on your mind...your son.

" Excuse me...please, excuse me" you said, pushing your way through the bustling market. You were already late, and with only the briefest of opportunities to get a glimpse of your child until another full seven days passed, and he made his Sunday outing with Frances again, you were desperate to see him. Standing by a stall filled with seasonal fresh fruits and juices you adjusted your woven hat, pushing the knotted strands of hair behind your ears in attempt to make yourself look proper, more presentable. Who were you kidding, you were but a ghost in a crowd full of people. Your disheveled appearance your only shield and cover from any potential sightings of yourself that could be relayed back to your husband. If he cared to know. You thought to yourself as you raised your head, your breath suddenly catching in your throat. There he was, your William. Watching from a distance, you followed his small wobbly steps, his hand holding tightly onto France's as the sun beamed down on them, heading with determination to the market stall he made a beeline for every Sunday. Perching yourself on a large wooden barrel next to a shelf of neatly stacked bottles of cider, you smiled as your shaky fingers came up to cover the joy on your lips as your former housekeeper picked up your son and showed him all the various jars of sweets and lollipops his wondrous eyes were beaming at. "Barley Sugars" you whispered, a small laugh leaving your lips as he pointed to his favorite and only choice of sweets whilst Frances tried to coax him into trying something different, when a smartly dressed man stood beside them turned around. Tommy.

"Barley Sugars again, eh?" Tommy chuckled, nodding to the stallholder as he reached into his pocket for a penny, smiling lovingly at the boy that resembled you more with each passing day. Wha...what was he doing here? You panicked at the unexpected sight of your husband, the last time being the night you had left him sleeping soundly in your shared bed. With shaky legs and your panicked eyes darting frantically around the market for any of his men, you slid off the barrel stumbling backwards into the shelf of cider, causing a small commotion of crashing glass and spilled beverages.

"You'll 'av to pay for that, miss" The seller frowned, waving his finger at you as he came marching around his stall to your trembling body frantically picking up the shattered glass, apologising profusely for the days' takings and mess you had made. With unsteady feet you stood up, your eyes cast down at the muddied ground, unable to meet the piercing stare you could already feel boring into you with every stifled breath that left your lips.

"Y/N..." Tommy whispered as he steadied himself against the wooden frame of the market stand, his knees buckling, his eyes widening in disbelief as time and everything around him suddenly slowed to an abrupt stillness, his ears deafening him with a piercing high-pitched whistle. "Y/N" he voiced louder, as the sound of the teeming market entered his muffled eardrums and your sheepish eyes finally met his." Y/N" Tommy called your name again as he pushed through the crowds of people, his eyes fixed on you as you started walking backwards, tears welling in your eyes from the panic firmly setting in."Y/N Shelby!" His voiced boomed into the crisp spring air, gaining everyone's attention, his brisk pace turning into a quickened run as he stumbled past people in a frantic attempt to get to you. "No! Don't you dare!" He bellowed, fear tightening in his chest as he watched you turn and run out of the market when he misplaced his foot and fell forward, tripping over the curb of the path as the end of your dress glided behind the corner of the bricked wall and out of sight.

" Shit...shit!" You sobbed running through the cobbled streets as you scanned the neighborhood in a frenzy of labored breaths and hysterical cries for somewhere to hide. What was he doing here?

" Hey, hey!" Tommy said, turning the corner onto the street you had been on mere seconds ago as he grabbed the arm of a young boy running past him with a hoop and stick in his hand. "Have you...have you seen a girl, in a...a dark red dress" Tommy asked breathlessly, whilst his mind frantically tried to make sense if what he saw was real, if you were real.

"That way, Mister" the rosy-cheeked child replied, pointing to a back alley leading to a row of terraced houses before running off to his friends that were patiently waiting for him at the bottom of the street. With shaky steps Tommy ran across the road, raising his hand in apology to a car and it's horn blaring at him from the near collision his dazed state caused. With his hands trembling, and his breath held within the tight confines of his burning lungs, Tommy turned the corner. And, there you were.

"Tommy..." You sobbed, backing up against the roughness of the slabbed wall as he stood in front of you, his own eyes welling with the unspent tears he'd been holding in for the past two years in an attempt to push away the reality of your absence.

"You're dead...I..." he said, his voice catching in his throat as he stepped closer, his brow furrowing in confusion at the acceptance he had surrendered to, now thrown into a disarray. " I.. I thought you were dead" he muttered in front of you as you shook your head, the back of his hand coming up to gingerly stroke across your cheek as the soothing coolness of his wedding band he couldn't bare to part with brushed along your delicate skin. But as the initial shock slowly started to fade, Tommy's jaw suddenly tightened and his gentle touch dug into your skin, his fingers twisting in anger as the creases of his brow deepened and the fury of feeling fooled took over. "I thought you were fucking dead!" He snapped through gritted teeth grabbing your chin, his grip painfully pushing into your flesh as he pressed his forehead to yours and his own tears spilled over between the curves of your cheeks. "Fuck!" He bellowed pushing your face away in disgust as he stumbled back to the wall opposite you, pulling his peaked cap from his head to cover his face as his body forced the contents of his stomach up onto the bricked floor. For months he had believed you had killed yourself, thrown yourself in the cut. And for months he blamed himself, burdening his body and mind with the responsibility of your death. The realisation and shock of you being alive was too much for his body to comprehend, even for someone as hardened to life as himself. " I thought you were dead..." Tommy wept quietly as he turned his head away from you, his reserved demeanour crumbling apart, leaving a man broken and tired from two years of heartbreak in its wake.

" Tommy I'm sorry, I..." You sobbed, approaching him as he put his hand out to stop you.

" No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to fucking say sorry" he sniffed back his tears cutting off your meek attempt to apologise as he stood up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his disheveled hair hanging over the perspiration sticking to his forehead." Why?" His voice wobbled barely above a whispered as he searched your eyes for an answer, his back pressed firmly against the brick wall to stop his legs from finally giving in as the adrenaline that had been pumping furiously through his veins slowly dispersed and fatigue took over.

" I couldn't do it anymore Tommy, I..."

" Mummy!" a little voice caught your attention as you turned your head and your eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of your son in Frances' arms mere feet from you, his little hands reaching desperately for you as Tommy watched your panicked reaction, a scoff catching in his throat when your eyes sheepishly darted away from your son and back to him.

"Mrs Shelby..." France's voice broke as her hand flew to her mouth and tears pooled in her eyes at the sight of you standing before her. For she believed as everyone else did, that the poor Mrs Shelby had succumbed to her troubles and parted from this world, now free of her tormented mind.

" Take William to the car, Frances" Tommy ordered turning away, adjusting his coat and demeanour as he breathed heavily through his mouth, every part of him desperately trying to regain some form of composure.

" Mummy! Mummy!" Your son wailed as your eyes brimmed with tears, and you apprehensively stepped towards him with your hands out when Tommy hurried between you both, and you came face to face with the remnants of his anger firmly etched on his face once again. He didn't trust you. Your initial reaction to seeing William not good enough of one for your husband who was now evaluating your every move, your every word.

" Mummy's coming, isn't she?" Tommy said, grabbing you by your arm as he waited for a response, his jaw tightening at every passing second as his patience grew thin, unwilling to let you go, unwilling to give you an option. "Isn't she?"

" Yes" you whispered, nodding your head as Frances hurried to the car with William wailing loudly in her arms.

" Look at you" Tommy said, glaring at you from head to toe, his words laced in disdain as he took off your hat, throwing it to the muddied ground with despise. Disheveled clothes, matted hair and muddied fingers. He had given you the world, given you a warm home, anything you could have wished for and yet you chose this, a life of labor and poverty over him and your son. With a mind clouded with fury, Tommy was doing what he promised he'd never do to all the gods he had prayed to, all his ancestors he had pleaded to if they would just grant him one thing, and bring you back into his arms. He was judging you.

" Wh...why is he calling me mummy?" you said, sobbing as you hurried alongside Tommy's quickened pace, his hand still painfully grasped onto your arm, dragging you with him to the car. William was only four months old when you left, he didn't know who you were, did he? " Tommy?"

"Just fucking move Y/N" Tommy said, opening the car door and pushing you in, slamming it behind him with enough force to frighten William into tears again. " Frances, please" Tommy sighed pinching his brow, his elbows resting on the steering wheel as William cried loudly in the back of the car. As Frances tended to your child, searching for his brown bear she feared he may have dropped in all the commotion, you kept your eyes fixed firmly ahead of you, your hands clasped in your lap not daring to look at anyone as shame engulfed you and reality hit home that you would now have to face not only what you did but everyone in your life you had left. Tommy had now plunged you head first back into a world you had abandoned without an ounce of sympathy or understanding, the anxiety of what awaited you was becoming unbearable.

Pulling up to Arrow house, the confines of the car were silent, and had been for the majority of the journey with William now soundly asleep in France's arms, the only audible noise being that of the muddied driveway of your forgotten home and the sound of Tommy's flesh gripping tightly onto the stirring wheel. He was furious, the moment he could have only dreamed of as he sought solitude in the pits of grief now engulfed with hatred. As Tommy and Frances exited the car, you stood seated, panic suddenly enveloping you, your body unable to move as you watched the familiar faces of the grounds men coming to a halt as they squinted into the car and at your face they thought they'd never see again. You wanted to run, not from the heavy weight bearing down on your heart but run from their critical eyes and the things you were sure you could hear them saying.

" Get out" Tommy said opening your door, pulling you out and marching you to the front of your once, shared home.

" Tommy" a lady beamed upon seeing him as she waited in the foyer, her dark brown locks cut into a bob bouncing on her shoulders with every step she took as your husband stormed through the grand entrance with your arm grasped tightly between his fingers. "And who's this?" she frowned looking at you from head to toe, her assumptions of you firmly setting in stone from your appearance alone. A thief no doubt, or a whore. She thought turning her nose up at you as her crimson nails curled into her palms as she crossed her arms, ready to have you thrown off the grounds or better, dumped in a ditch. You had no place in this grand house, in the house she was now not only the governess of, but a woman that the maids and workers believed had wormed her way into ruling the manor Tommy had abandoned his interest and care for to the grief of losing you. " Well, who are you?"

" She's my wife"

Part Two coming soon!

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cupidbread · 3 months

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I'm a peasant to angst so if you have the time and don't worry if you don't wanna do it but like I would like to request a story where Thomas Shelby has to try and coax the reader/yn to eat and sleep properly after a tragedy? (could be ruby dying etc.) thank you if you do write this!

Ok, I am a sucker for angst. But I couldn't write Ruby dying. I was torn whether to write this, but it is a real life issue. So I choose the reader having a miscarriage, at 20 weeks. I understand this is a hard hitting subject. I have listed warnings below. I personally know people who have gone through this. For anyone reading this fiction, who has suffered such a tragedy. I send you lots of love and strength.

Always Hold Your Hand

Pairing- Thomas Shelby and Reader

Warnings- Please read -

Triggers - Mentions of miscarriage, stillbirth, losing a child.

Just about to ascend the vast staircase, Tommy paused. Closing his eyes for a moment, just taking a moment. Just to compose himself. Inhaling through his nose, he let a long breath out. Counting to five as he did so. He felt like getting on his horse, and riding away. Just going off, over the fields of Arrow House.

But, he couldn't do that. You needed him. He had to put his own feelings aside.

"Mr Shelby?" he heard, turning to see Frances holding a tray of tea. A look of compassion on her face. "I .. erm.. I made Mrs Shelby some tea, she hasn't had anything all day,"

Nodding in response, Tommy took another deep breath.

Holding his arms out for the tray, he couldn't even manage a small smile. He knew Frances was hurting too, everyone was. They were all part of this family. Everyone had been so excited, for the arrival of your firstborn.

Frances had been the one to hold your hand, when you started bleeding. Frances had been the one to call Tommy's office, deliver the news. Beg him to come back home. How he didn't kill himself on the drive back, he would never know.

That was a week ago now. Yesterday, you had a small funeral for your son. You had collapsed to the ground, so grief stricken. Tommy had picked you up, carried you to bed. Held your hand all night.

Just been there with you.

"Thank you Frances, I will take it up," he eventually answered. "Am I doing ok? Just ... tell me... what should I do?"

A lone tear rolled along her cheek. "You are Mr Shelby, you wont break, you will be strong for both of you," Bowing her head, she hurried away.

Reaching the door, Tommy balanced the tray of tea as he twisted the handle. Striding across the floor, he dared to pull the curtain to the side. Just a little, just to let a small slither of light drift in.

"Y/n.. I am going to pour you some tea. Can you try and drink it, ey?"

Stirring the pot, he glanced down at you. Laying face down on the bed, long hair tumbling over your shoulder.

"Love?" Tommy tried again, bending down to look at you. Moving your hair.

"It's so strange, Tommy," you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

Taking another breath, Tommy focused on the china cup. Feeling if he held your stare, he would have to give in. To the inevitable sobs, threatening to rack through him.

"What is, love?" he asked you.

"Laying like this, being on my stomach. It's .... just.... so strange," your voice trailed off. With your growing bump, you had struggled to sleep. Only able to get comfortable on your side. Now the bump was gone..... nothing there at all.

No baby...

"I know ... my love.. I know," Tommy answered, his voice reassuring. "Try and sit up, for me, hmm? Have a little sip," Not gaining a response, Tommy rolled you over. Hooking his arms underneath your shoulders.

Slowly helping you up.

"Have you been back to the forest?" you asked your husband, finally looking at him. Letting him place the hot tea, into your hand.

Three times, you had asked him the same question last night. No.. he hadn't, he couldn't see the burnt out Vardo. He just couldn't let himself see it. The image would be burnt into his brain.

"No," Tommy answered, clearing his throat as he sat beside you. Placing his hands over yours, he held the cup against your lips. Making you take a sip.

Swallowing the hot liquid, your eyes burnt into your husband. "Can we go?" you asked, searching his face for an answer.

"Not yet my love, you aren't strong enough. But... we will...soon. I promise," Tommy tried, hoping you would drop the subject. Knowing he couldn't do it. Holding the cup to your lips again, he made you sip some more.

"But, but, erm.... you said.... that he will be ok there?" you asked, vision blurry from tears. "Will he be ok there? Our little Harry.... that... that he ... he will .... be warm? Warm... enough?"

Tommy had to look away, gazing over to the small stream of light floating into the room. A little ray of sunshine, that would have been his son. A ray of sunshine in your lives. Rolling his shoulders back, he composed himself.

"Yeah, yep," he answered, "He will, because you wrapped him up so well. Didn't you, ey? And you know that blanket that Pol made for him, he would have loved...."

Overcome with emotion, Tommy walked to the window. This was so hard, the hardest loss he had ever gone through.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you padded across the plush carpet. Your husband was in so much pain too, he was also grieving. You knew he was trying to be strong for you. Standing in front of him, you wrapped your arms around Tommy.

"Nice and warm, and safe," you whispered, "Tommy, hold my hand?"

Managing a smile at last, Tommy entwined his fingers with yours. "We will get through this together love, I will always hold your hand,"

Note-

This was so tough and emotional to write.

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cupidbread · 3 months

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Another little request, please don't mind the spam if you don't feel inspired c: <3 "I didn't get your name" + Arthur please!

Thanks so much for sending some extra Arthur in, Shark @call-sign-shark ! I greatly appreciate it! I know I said it before, but it was fun to end this celebration off by showing some love to him…and I wouldn’t be writing for Arthur Shelby if I didn’t add some of his violent self into one of these stories. That’s where I went with this one…trust me, it makes sense…….I think. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

Oh and this is the last blurb of this celebration! Thank you to all who read these!! I can’t believe I’ve finally finished writing them!

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

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

What A Way to Meet Your Boss

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, series typical violence, use of derogatory name

Word Count: around 1k (I’m too lazy to find the count)

Summary: (Y/N) meets one of her bosses in a rather…unconventional way. Or maybe it’s very conventional considering the company she works for.

(Y/N) had just finished her tasks for the evening. She made sure that all of her materials were put in places where she could quickly find them tomorrow before grabbing her coat and purse. She exited the Shelby Company Limited building then, ready to get home and relax.

But of course, Birmingham had different plans for her.

“Women as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the alleyway she’d just passed. (Y/N) willed her feet to keep walking, knowing that things would turn bad if she stopped and entertained this man. Maybe he’d give up.

But it didn’t pan out that way.

Shoes then scuffed on the concrete as his quick steps were heard behind her. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch,” he sneered. (Y/N) quickened her pace. “Fuckin’ get back here!” His angered words were accompanied by a rough hand, and (Y/N) was left defenceless as the man effortlessly pulled her back and into his grips. Her eyes widened as the man’s forearm came into contact with her throat. “Gonna make you pay for ignoring me,” he seethed, his mouth right against her ear. “How about you make it easy for yourself?”

The man couldn’t follow through on what he was going to do because the next thing he knew, he was getting the wind knocked out of him; his arms falling slack from (Y/N)’s frame. She didn’t even stop to look and see what had happened, instead moving as fast as she could to get away from the altercation just as it sounded like someone started to deliver a barrage of punches onto her assailant.

It didn’t take (Y/N) long to notice that there wasn’t even much of a fight when she did finally turn around. The man who had his arm wrapped around her neck seconds ago was now curled into a ball on the ground as he tried to stop the madman that had come to her rescue. Even she flinched as the second man landed one more vicious punch before standing tall over the beaten man.

“Please, please…please be done,” the man pleaded, his voice and body shaking.

“You should know better than to fuck with the Peaky Blinders,” the man standing above him bellowed, his voice one that (Y/N) was familiar with, but couldn’t quite put the name to.

“I…I didn’t know that she was a Peaky woman, Mr. Shelby,” the man made an excuse, still pleading for his life. He couldn’t tell if the animal of a man standing above him was finished or not. Hell, he should have known better than to choose to hang around this part of town. Who would have known there would have been a Shelby in the area though, let alone the worst out there all?

“Peaky woman or not, you lay another fucking finger on any woman and I’ll fucking cut them off. You understand me?” the Shelby man threatened.

“Yes, yes,” the man on the ground was nodding his head profusely within seconds of hearing the other’s threats…which should really be considered promises.

“Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to do it now.” That was all the man needed to hear to scramble to his feet and hurry away from the area. It was evident in his limp that he’d been beaten pretty badly, but that didn’t stop him from running as fast as he could. The man left behind couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him leave. When he’d finally turned a corner and was out of sight, the man turned to (Y/N). “You alright?” he asked, making his way over to her then.

“Yeah,” she answered with an exhaled breath. “You came before he could do anything. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he brushed her gratitude off, shaking his head slightly. His peaked cap had been returned to his head and was now pulled down, shielding his eyes from her, but she couldn’t miss his prominent mustache. “I could walk you home if you want,” he offered.

“I live a block away,” she answered, a polite smile present on her face.

“Safe travels,” he nodded to her, starting to turn back towards the company building the she’d just left.

“I didn’t get your name,” she quickly called after him, the words leaving her mouth before she could think better of them. She knew he was a Shelby man, but she didn’t know which Shelby man he was.

Her voice made the man stop and turn back to face her. “Arthur Shelby,” he answered simply, lifting his head enough for her to catch a glimpse his full features as they were illuminated by the streetlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” she thanked him again, sending a grateful smile his way.

“Happy to have ya workin’ for us, love,” he said, sending a closed mouth smile her way before turning again so that he could walk back to the building she’d left a short while ago.

(Y/N) watched him enter the building before she turned and hurried the rest of her way home. She let out a sigh of relief once she was behind her locked door. What a way to meet your boss, she thought to herself, shaking her head as she headed to her bedroom. What a way indeed.

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

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cupidbread · 3 months

Text

The Other Shelby Girl

Platonic!Shelby Siblings x reader

Headcanon/Imagine for a second Shelby Sister. Explores dynamics with each sibling based on of the reader were their older or younger sibling.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of war, violence, period-typical sexism, over-protective sibling drama.

Arthur

Older Sister:

You are the third most respected woman in Arthur’s life, which is greater than it sounds. First was Mum, then Polly. To be succeeded only by Polly in Arthur Shelby’s eyes is precious. He’s always looked up to you, but didn’t always show it. After the war, Arthur would come to rely on you heavily for emotional support. There were nights he would come to your home and no be able to speak. Where he would seem to turn back into a little boy, crying into your shoulder as he begs you not to speak of this to the others. When Arthur met Linda, you were one of the few to be supportive. You are Arthur’s greatest advocate, but his pride and Tommy’s influence make it hard to help him. When you have a family of your own, it’ll only make things harder. You often feel like you have to take sides. Still, you do what you think is best.

Younger Sister:

Depending on just how young you are, Arthur might try to put on like he’s your Dad. Arthur doesn’t always know how to talk to you. You’re just a young woman, he doesn’t feel like he can talk to you the way he does with John or Tommy. He wants to tease you and pick on you as he would with Finn, but he can’t. The moment you hit out your bottom lip and look like your feelings got hurt, Arthur is a flustered mess of a guilty brother. You might resist his attempts at being fatherly, or welcome them. Regardless, you can see that Arthur just wants you to know he’s a safe space for you. Maybe if you ask him nice enough, he’ll teach you how to draw horses like he used to. No matter how old you get, Arthur is the brother that still sees you as a little girl.

Thomas

Older Sister:

Before the war, Tommy only saw you as someone who nagged at him. The meddling older sister warning him away from throwing curses at people and fighting with the cops. After the war, you became something far more delicate than that. You became something like his conscience. That pleading voice that begged for peace and forgiveness that grows fainter every year. As adults, you swear sometimes he hates you. The way he disregards you and keeps you at arm’s length. In actuality, he’s only trying to avoid the shame your hopeful gaze gives him. It was you who tried to get the brothers to hide from the draft. It was you who told him getting involved in London affairs would be dangerous. You who told him not to accept anything from the Russians. You were always right. Always good. He also feels he must protect you because you know him when he was soft and weak. Aside from Polly, you’re the last person who ever heard him laugh.

Younger Sister:

He lumps you in with Ada without really meaning to. You and Ada are both younger, and are both girls. As such, you both have similar problems that have his head aching and his trigger finger itching. Two pretty girls tend to attract a lot of scummy men. You’re both so stubborn about not needing anything from him, which is bloody absurd. Of course you need his help. Whatever money you’re making doing legitimate work isn’t going to be enough to keep you safe. You have never gone on a single date without someone Peaky Blinder watching you. Arthur tries to give advice like he’s your dad, and Tommy drops rules on you like he’s your dad. He has absolutely said the phrase, “And where are you going dressed like that?” Tommy will kill your ex-boyfriends if asked, he already knows why you want them dead and he agrees. The only thing he likes more than you accepting his help is hearing you admit he was right.

John

Older Sister:

He is the little brother who reads your diary and eats your food after being told not to. As a kid, John was Hell on legs. As an adult, John is still Hell on legs but with children. Growing up, you spent a lot of time picking John up from police stations and headmaster offices. John stresses you out like he’s being bloody paid for it. But, he loves you dearly and you forgive him more often than you should. John has called you “Mum,” as a joke many times but it’s not quite a lie. As an adult, he is far more respectful towards you. He is one to bow his head when you lecture him about fatherhood and how his drinking is going to harm his children. John respects you enough to take his cap off when he enters your home. However, he’ll still gobble down any treats you’ve left out in the kitchen and have the audacity to say, “What?!” When you shout at him for it.

Younger Sister:

John will not only read your diary and eat your snacks, but he will loudly announce your crush the moment he finds out. Any reluctance Arthur has about picking on you is nonexistent in John. He is a fully grown man who is unafraid to tease you with schoolyard chants in public spaces. Has walked into your room while you were reading just to slap something off of your desk and run. John has spent so long as the younger brother, he has to get his kicks where he can. That said, nobody better say anything rude to you. Ever. One time, a mate of his simply repeated a mean name he had called you and John slugged him for it. Nobody is allowed to annoy you but him. John is obnoxious in an almost biblical sense, but he is the one to see you cry and ask: “Who did that to you.”

Ada

Older Sister:

Yet another sibling to boss her around. Excellent! Ada is one who would resist you trying to take care of her. She doesn’t want to hear your advice! She doesn’t need it! Until her first heartbreak and then she’s sobbing on your bed waiting for you to come home. Ada hates to feel dependent on others, but she does trust you. There’s something special about having a sister. You understand each other in a way your brothers never will. The fear that builds as a man walks a few yards behind you out in the streets at night. How every romance has that bitter taste as you think about all that you’ll lose if you were to get married. Ada gets her best advice from you, but you’re also her security. You were probably the one to start taking her to the movie theater. It’s likely that Ada imitates you subconsciously. When you got your hair bobbed, so did Ada. When you started wearing heels, so did Ada. She denies it, but it’s obvious that she follows your lead.

Younger Sister:

Might be a sad thing to say, but Ada didn’t think much of you until she had Karl. You were just this clinging little sister that everyone thought she was supposed to take care of. All you did was follow her about town and put your nose where it didn’t belong. Tommy probably found out about her and Freddie through you. You don’t mean to be annoying, you’re just lonely. Ada couldn’t see that until she had a child and a home away from Small Heath. The dynamic flips hard when Ada comes back to Small Heath. Ada is all about leading you in “the right direction,” and is very serious about your education. She essentially begs Tommy to set aside money for you to go to university when you express interest. You want to be in with the Peaky Blinders, though. Oh, God. You’re in your rebellious phase and Ada wants to shake you till you forget all about jazz and pretty boys with guns. You both adore each other, but you butt heads over where your life is going and who should have a say in what direction it goes.

Finn

Older Sister:

Between you, Polly and Ada, he’s almost got a mother. As a young boy, Finn has actually called for you as his mother by accident. It makes sense. You were often left in charge of him. To Finn, you are all that he knows. It’s often left to you to make sure he goes to school and stays out of trouble. You’ve spent many afternoons arguing with his teachers to give him a second chance. Finn needs that, someone to stick up for him. That doesn’t mean he always likes it though. Finn wants to be a gangster, like his older brothers. You want him to do literally anything but that. When Tommy, Arthur, and John, pick on him too much you are the one to back Finn up. He used to like it… until he was roughly twelve. What used to be you coming to his rescue has become you inadvertently humiliating him. You try to back off, but Finn makes poor choices for himself which require you to come save him. Therefore, the cycle continues.

Younger Sister:

You are the only one beneath him in the Shelby Family Pecking Order, and he lives for it. When Finn has a bad day, he takes it out on you. Why not? It isn’t like he had anyone else he can push around and be the boss of. So, he’ll cut your dolls’ hair, call you names, and make fun of the things you like. But only if there’s other boys who can see him do it. When he goes too far and you cry, he has to answer to all of your siblings and Polly. Finn picks on you to soothe his own ego. When it’s just you and Finn, he’s very quiet. You two can spend hours not talking but be perfectly happy. Finn likes to turn on the radio and just sit, listening to music or the results of a boxing match. Sometimes, he vents to you about how Tommy wouldn’t let him do this or do that. You always listen to him. Finn usually takes these quiet times to apologize for past pranks or insults. You always forgive him. It’s odd to you how your accepting of his apology seldom puts him in a better mood. Truth is, he’s very jealous of you.

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