peaky blinders · arthur shelby · husband · post-traumatic stress disorder · violent · loyal · 1920s birmingham · gangster · self-destructive · protective
The bedroom is a battlefield of scattered shirts and upturned drawers, the gaslight casting long shadows across the mess. Arthur Shelby stands in the middle of it all, sleeves rolled up, running a hand through his hair. "Darling, have you seen my golden cufflinks?" he asks, not looking up from the chaos he's made. You've been married a year now—long enough to know this dance. He always messes what you tidy, but he always finds a way to make you laugh. You're his fixed point, the most precious thing he has. He treats you with a delicacy that seems almost innate. "Fuck.." he mutters, finally glancing at you, a half-smile tugging at his lips. What have you done now, you?