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haven't drawn tommy in a while i have missed his face

and who knows if ada has father issues, but wouldn't she compare her brother to his name's sake, this man who she calls dad, but who spared her little more than a pat on the head when she and tommy were hauling buckets of beer for him to the garrison, always the ignored girl, not even brought along when he would teach her brothers how to hunt a stag, an afterthought at most, and then there's her arthur, who's as confounded by her as she's by him, but loves her all the same. and years down the line she's cradling his cheek, gaunt as death himself, and he's looking older than the distant father in her mind ever does, but he cracks open a blurry eye, recognizes her and smiles and mutters her name that almost sounds like his own

I'm really wondering if the Birmingham Blitz it gonna be in the Peaky Blinders film in some way.

It has the potential for a lot of highly cinematic moments (I could see them dramatizing it by having scenes of people running from explosions) not to mention super emotional for Tommy being retraumatized by having another war come directly to his home. And with a film-level budget, they could really go all out with it.

It's possible that the betting shop and/or the Garrison could be destroyed during it. Plus, I could see it being used to kill off a couple of the Shelbys 😭

In The Shadows Of Small Heath — Arthur Shelby x OC

Summary: Rosalind finds Arthur all beat up in an alley, and she takes it upon herself to care for him until his brothers arrive.

Word Count: 618

Warnings: Mention of blood and injury

Rosalind Alcott strode through the dimly lit streets of Small Heath, her eyes scanning every shadow and alleyway as she went. She'd been meant to meet Arthur Shelby hours ago, and she had a gnawing feeling that something had gone terribly wrong, resulting in his being late. Now with a surge of fear running through her, she quickened her pace, her heels clicking against the cobblestones, the chill of the night air biting at her skin.

Finally, she spotted him in a narrow alley, hunched over and hacking violently. She rushed to his side, her breath catching as she took in his battered appearance. His face was bruised and swollen, blood was trickling from a cut above his eyebrow, and his clothes were torn and stained.

"Arthur," she exhaled softly, kneeling beside him. He looked up, his eyes glassy with pain, and attempted a weak smile.

"Roz, I'm fine," he rasped, trying to wave her off. "Just a little scrap, nothing I can't handle."

"First off, you were late. And you’re not fine," she countered. "You're coughing up a lung."

He tried to stand, but his legs buckled beneath him. Rosalind caught him, supporting his weight as best she could. "Come on, let's get you somewhere safe," she urged, guiding him towards the street.

With Arthur giving her instructions to navigate this part of the city, they made their way to a small, rundown safe house a couple blocks away, a place the Shelbys had often used for situations just like this. Though by the state of it, not lately. Rosalind helped Arthur inside and eased him onto a worn out sofa. She rustled around and grabbed a cloth from the cupboard, and filled a bowl with water. She began gently cleaning his wounds. He winced but didn't protest, his eyes locked on her face as she worked.

"Why do you keep doing this, Arthur?" she asked, her fingers brushing lightly against his bruised skin. "Putting yourself in harm's way?"

"It's what I do, Roz," he replied, his voice rough but sincere. "It's who I am."

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "It doesn't have to be."

Arthur reached up, his hand trembling, and cupped her cheek. "You're too good for this place, you know. Too good for the likes of me."

She leaned into his touch, her heart aching. If he wasn’t already so beat up, she might lash out and strike some sense into him herself. Instead she merely huffed. "Maybe I am. But that doesn't mean I don't care about you."

It was at this admission that Arthur finally looked away from her. A knock on the door broke the tension, and Rosalind quickly straightened, moving away from Arthur's touch and going to the door, opening it to reveal Tommy and John Shelby. Confusion at Rosalind's presence turned to relief at seeing Arthur, then stoic concern took hold as they took in Arthur's condition.

"He'll be alright," Rosalind assured them, mostly on Arthur's behalf. "Just needs some rest, and a proper doctor wouldn’t hurt either," she advised, knowing such a thing was unlikely with these boys. At least the worst of his coughing had subsided.

Tommy nodded. "Thank you, Miss Alcott. We'll take it from here."

She stepped aside, letting the brothers inside to take Arthur home. Arthur gave her a pained, but grateful smile as they helped him up.

When the door closed behind the three of them, Rosalind stood alone in the small room, the weight of the night pressing down on her. She knew she couldn't stay away, couldn't stop caring for Arthur Shelby. And maybe, just maybe, under that gruff exterior of his, he felt the same way.

For @sicktember

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot

Rosalind Alcott: @legilimenace

“uhm the ship is cannon 🤓☝️”

uhm actually, the only cannon ship is me x whatever character i’m into. stop being delusional.