When John Shelby catches a thief stealing from the Shelby betting shop, he doesn't expect it to be a woman. A woman who so happens to be the rebellious and beautiful, Emerald Hathaway.
•••
[john shelby x oc]
[mature]
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1919, birmingham.
"MY NAME IS Emerald, Emerald Hathaway, and you've probably heard about me for all the wrong reasons. I'll admit it now, I'm no angel. I was the kid that stole everything and stuck my tongue out at adults. But my uncle did once say, 'to be insane in a mad world is actually sanity'— or whatever the fuck that man said— he died drunk and hit his head on a bloody boat. But anyway, I may be trouble but I come from an even more troubled little place. Birmingham, Small Heath. Paradise to us and probably hell on earth to you. If you've heard of here, you've definitely heard of the peaky blinders. Everyone's scared of them. Yet, I'm not. I don't think I'm scared of anything—"
"Are you reading my fucking diary!?"
She stood by the door of the kitchen where her two sisters, Carmen and Stella, gathered around, snickering.
"I didn't know we had a modern day Shakespeare in our presence!" Carmen laughs, dangling the diary up in the air.
"Yeah, I'm surprised you even know how to read and write, you never paid attention in class." Stella smirks.
Emerald glares at them, enraged. Her whole body shook as she spoke, "You have no right to go through my things!" She screams.
"Well you practically left it lying around like bait!" Carmen couldn't stop laughing at her younger sister's growing embarrassment.
"I bet you've written about having a secret lover in here, I just have to find it." Stella chuckles, flicking through the pages with eagerness.
And that, that was enough to kick off a war.
With no notice, Emerald pounces towards them, screeching, kicking and fighting for her life to get her sacred diary back. It was quite the sight, they all tackled each other like wild dogs.
But this was a typical day at the Hathaway household, believe it or not.
They lived tucked away behind factories and little shops, near the canal. Four little gypsy women fighting each other whilst also fighting for a place in the world. It was a little ironic.
"Can you lot stop it?! Can we have some peace in this house for just one fucking second, please?" Priscilla storms into the room, putting her handbag down.
Ah, their voice of reason. The infamous Priscilla Cara Hathaway. Eldest sister of the clan, singer by day and occasional prostitute by night. People around here know her for having a reputation for being stubborn and in control.
