#Peaky Blinders War

[theomenmedia]

First Look At Cillian Murphy's Thomas Shelby In The Upcoming Peaky Blinders Movie

NEW ERA FOR THE PEAKY BLINDERS! First look at Cillian Murphy as Tommy Shelby in the WWII-set movie! War, espionage, and more Shelby family drama await.

Link to the full story: https://www.theomenmedia.com/post/tommy-shelby-returns-first-look-at-cillian-murphy-in-peaky-blinders-wwii-film

[duchessripper]

“why do you still use tumblr?”

listen— i have to keep track of my hyper fixations somehow

[violaobanion]

PERIOD DRAMA + SLUTTY SHIRTS

Pride & Prejudice (2005) dir. Joe Wright Bridgerton (2020-) created by Chris Van Dusen War & Peace (2016) dir. Tom Harper Poldark (2015-2019) created by Debbie Horsfield Atonement (2007) dir. Joe Wright Jane Eyre (2011) dir .Cary Joji Fukunaga Peaky Blinders (2013-2022) created by Steven Knight Pride & Prejudice (1995) dir. Simon Langton

[yellerbee]

i know we talk a lot about obi-wan’s trauma, but what about cody + literally every other clone?

the trauma of being raised to fight and die in a war for a republic that doesn’t care about you, being told your entire life you’re little more than droids, being genetically altered like a lab experiment, seeing gruesome bloody deaths on a daily basis, seeing your face peering back up at you whenever you find a fallen brother…

i mention cody specifically in the context of codywan, where so often cody is portrayed as the perfect picture of mental health and emotional control compared to obi-wan, who - let’s face it - is portrayed as a hot mess who can barely care for himself

like, where does this idea even come from? cody is at most twenty years old when he gets shipped to the front lines. even with the advanced aging, his brain hasn’t finished developing. he’s spending some of the most crucial, formative years of his life fighting for the republic, responsible for making decisions that could save or doom his brothers, and having to live with that every day

one of cody’s most memorable lines is about how hard it is to be a survivor

our baby boy is traumatized, but he’s also so complicated and i crave - from the bottom of my soul - for more people to realize how complex and lovely he is despite how little screen time we have of him

he’s not just there to serve obi-wan’s narrative, not to me

[runnning-outof-time]

Actions Speak Louder | Pre-War!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - based off of this post by @thomashelbyswife

Pairing: pre-war!Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy’s never one to say sorry…that doesn’t mean that he isn’t though.

Warnings: one bad word

Word Count: 1404

A/N: M, your headcannon immediately sparked this idea. I just had to write it. And I may have gotten a bit carried away. This is the fastest I’ve written something in a long time. Thank you so much for the inspiration!! I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

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

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

Tommy knew he’d messed up the second he entered his bedroom to see (Y/N) standing at the bedside with her arms crossed and a sour look on her face. The problem was he didn’t know what he’d done.

“Hey,” he tried, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she made sure he’d caught her look before she went about taking off her jewelry and getting ready for bed. Tommy frowned at her lack of response before he shut the door and walked over to her. He said her name in a soft voice, hoping that it would get her to turn.

She continued with what she was doing, not yet acknowledging him. Tommy sighed in response. He tipped his head to the side in thought, thinking of how he could get her to look at him. It wasn’t hard to notice that she was not happy with him. Words weren’t working, so maybe actions would.

He reached out and took hold of her hips, holding them for a second to test the waters. (Y/N) didn’t resoond. So he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him so that he could tuck his chin into the crook of her neck. “What’s wrong, love?” he queried, attempting to press his lips to her neck, but she titled away from him. This only added to his confusion.

“I can’t believe you, Tommy,” she huffed under her breath, dropping her hands to his firearms and applying pressure to them, hoping he’d get her hint and let go.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out what her statement meant. Meanwhile she was still pushing down on his forearms. She held the pressure on them until he dropped them from her, allowing her to step away and finally turn to face him.

“What have I done?” he asked after a few moments had passed and his brain-wracking had turned up empty.

(Y/N) scoffed at his question, shaking her head at his answer. “Of course you wouldn’t have remembered.”

“Remembered what?” he was still lost. It only added to her irritation.

“You were supposed to come to dinner with my parents tonight. We were going to go over plans for the wedding. My father was going to give us some money towards it, but now he’s not so sure if he should be letting me marry you at all,” she filled him in on the commitment he’d forgotten while biting on the inside of her cheek in hopes that it’d stop her welled up tears from falling.

Tommy froze upon hearing what he’d missed. His jaw went slack as he wracked his brain in hopes that there’d be some sort of inkling of rememberance of the day’s plans, but there was nothing.

Anger was building up inside (Y/N) with each quiet second that passed. His silence was frustrating her, maybe even more so than his earlier absence was. “Do you have anything to say?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

“I got caught up at the stables,” he told her, his answer making her scoff and look away as she rolled her eyes. Obviously it wasn’t enough to clear him of his wrongdoings.

Silence fell between them then. A couple beats passed before (Y/N) looked at him again, expectantly this time. It was obvious that she wanted something else from him. But Tommy wasn’t catching onto it. “That’s all you have to say?” she finally questioned him when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to speak unless spoken to.

“Love, I…” the words died on this lips as he then stepped back from her, turning to the armoire as he began undoing the buttons of his waistcoat.

Shock filled (Y/N)’s features as she glared at her fiancé’s back. What are you doing?! she screamed at him in her mind. But nothing was said as she watched him take the waistcoat off and drop the braces from his shoulders. He then worked on taking his boots off, kicking them to sit next to the wardrobe before he finally turned back around. (Y/N) was still glaring at him.

“Are you seri—” the exasperated question got caught in (Y/N)’s throat as Tommy cut the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her frame.

His hug was tight, and he swayed her from side to side as his arms stayed fastened around her waist despite her hands pressing against his shoulders.

“Tommy, you can’t just…whoa!” the direction of her statement changed as he spun them and dropped both of their bodies to the bed.

His arms unraveled from her waist as they were falling so that he wouldn’t crush her with his body weight. They moved up to trap her underneath him. He immediately tucked his face into her neck and began placing kisses to the skin he found there.

“Tommy,” she breathed as she tried to push him off of her, but to no avail. “Tom, you’re not being fair!” she shrieked as his lips connected with the sensitive spot on her neck; a spot that he knew all too well.

His kisses trailed up to her jaw and across her cheek before his lips found the corner of hers. The feeling was now driving (Y/N) wild, slowly making her forget what she’d been upset over as all of her senses became focused on his actions.

He pulled away just slightly so that he could look at her, his eyes traveling over her face; seeing that her look of frustration was slowly slipping away. “Fuck your father’s money. I’ll get what we need to pay for our wedding,” he told her before his lips matched hers, properly this time.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathed when they pulled away, biting on her lip to hide her smile as she took his cheeks into her hands, lifting his face further away from hers. Their eyes met and he cracked a smile, one that made her insides flutter. She tried to act angry, scrunching her nose and eyebrows in hopes that her true feelings didn’t show. Tommy found it adorable.

“What?” he asked her, reaching up to brush a piece of hair from her face.

“You’re trying to get yourself out of this,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Is it working?”

“No.”

Tommy pouted upon hearing her response, and he dropped his head against her chest, burying his face into her sternum and breathing in her intoxicating sent before he let out a whine.

That did (Y/N) in. She tried to hide it, but the shaking of her chest was a dead giveaway that she laughed at his actions. He clocked that immediately, his hands moving to her sides where her shirt had rode up so that he could brush his fingers against her sensitive skin. She shrieked at the feeling, squirming under him as she tried to get him to stop. Now her anger was the furthest thing from her mind.

His actions continued until she managed to grab his hands and remove them from her sides. She then lifted his face again, making him look at her once more as she tried with all of her might to keep a straight face. “You’re ridiculous, Thomas,” she told him, unable to stop the smirk from tugging one corner of her lips upwards.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked with raised eyebrows, waiting on bated breath for her answer. When it didn’t come right away, he jutted his bottom lip outwards, hoping that pouting might help.

(Y/N) sucked in a breath at the sight in front of her. She just couldn’t resist him when he was like this. Somehow, he’d managed to make her mood do a complete flip. His persistence was something that drew her to him, but it was times like these when she hated it. She wanted to stay angry at him, but she really couldn’t. Not when his lips were looking more kissable by the second.

“Hmm?” he asked her, getting antsy with each second she stayed quiet.

(Y/N) bit on her bottom lip, sending him one last glare before giving into him and mumbling a “yes”. Tommy couldn’t even celebrate. She didn’t give him time to. The second she spoke, she pulled his face to hers so that their lips could crash together. It wasn’t like he was going to dispute it though…her kiss told him everything he needed.

Read Part 2 -> HERE

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @dlmlufics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[hacked-wtsdz]

Forever obsessed with characters who can’t go back. Characters who want to return to their place in the carton cutouts of life but the shape just won’t fit anymore. Characters who dreamt so hard of getting back home to find out that wherever they are isn’t home anymore. Characters back from the dead or the border with death for whom life suddenly takes a new shape. What will you do with it now, now that it’s so different from what you knew it to be? How do you sit amongst people for whom it’s the old shape and size and smell and taste? Characters who believe that they should be dead but don’t want to die and yet thread a bit too close to the edge. Characters who are dead and walking this life. Forever obsessed.

[aphroditeslover11]

Today I discovered a mid-century photographer called Philippe Halsman who photographed the famous people of his era, from Richard Nixon to Marilyn Monroe. At the end of his sessions he would ask the person to jump into the air for a picture, believing that this would cause them to drop their pretenses and public persona, leaving him with a picture of the real person as they made their leap. He called this ‘jumpology’.

This is the photo he took of Robert Oppenheimer in 1958, possibly the most free and unreserved image of him that I’ve ever seen.

[saintsir4n]

HAPPY WITHOUT ME

where tommy shelby feels jealous.

WARNINGS: slight angst

——

1919

TOMMY Shelby was a jealous man.

He had been apart from his family for four years. Four gruelling years. He had been to war and back, literally. He had seen things that he could never forget and lost people he had thought he would forever know. And the only thing that kept him going was his family. His Aunt Pol, his sister Ada, his little brother Finn. Other extended members like Isaiah, even fucking Dorothy Martin and her annoying quips. But most of all, between the fighting and the battling beside Arthur and John, his fiancé's wife and child was what pulled him out of the mud.

So when they returned from the Great War, with half brains and half minds, Tommy knew he had to keep pushing. Retake the family business and pull them all up to the highest of places.

Seeing what’s changed in Eden was a shock at first. She was more sure of herself. She wasn’t a nurse anymore. But one of the accountants at the bookies. She could shoot a gun, unlike the last time he had been beside her. And much to his chagrin, she earned more attention than he would have liked.

His Eden was a looker. But he made sure that anyone who leered for too long knew they would be cut a smile each.

“Tom, calm the fuck down,” Eden rolled her eyes, “It’s just lunch. Ada will be there. Little ‘Nara is off with my mum. Finn and Isaiah are off doin’ god knows what.”

“I am calm,” Tommy said gruffly, leaning against their bedroom door, watching his wife fix her earrings whilst looking at her reflection. “Perfectly fuckin’ calm.”

“Tell that to your bloody jaw,” she scoffed.

Tommy dismissed her retort, just as she stood up from the stall she used. The navy blue dress she wore flowed down to her calves. It was bad enough that she wore the hell out of the dress but it was his favourite colour.

“You’re wearin’ that?” He gestured when she turned around.

“A dress? Yes, Tommy. I’m wearin’ a dress.” She flattened it out with her hands, huffing when he blinked at her. “I love you but fuckin’ hell your jealousy is somethin’ I haven’t missed.”

Tommy’s brow arched up, “You sure about that?”

The distance between them had closed with his long strides, making her suck in a deep breath.

“Maybe not.” Eden muttered, “It’s only lunch and then I’ll be back beside you. Steerin’ the ship that is our future.”

His arms had reached out and found her waist, tugging her closer, “Fuck steerin’. We’ll be dragging this lot with us.”

“Whether they like it or not? Why am I not surprised with you.” She snaked an arm around her shoulder, teasingly stroking his bare neck. “Calm down. I’ve been to lunch with Ada plenty of times when you were away.”

“But I’m back now,” he stated firmly, senselessly tightening his grip.

Her amusement faltered, “And what, my freedom goes away?”

“No. I didn’t mean that,” he sighed when she shrugged him off.

“I’ll be safe alright? You trust me?” She asked, frowning at his previous insinuation.

“You’re one of the few people I trust,” Tommy said, running a hand through his hair.

“Good.” She moved away to grab her bag, “Now I’ll see you later.” She could feel him watching as she walked passed, and so she threw a grin at him as she said, “I’ll make sure my other husband drops us off on the way to the betting shop.”

Tommy warned, “Watch it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

—-

Requested by @jbrownta

[lavender-romancer]

I'd Do Anything

Part One Tommy Shelby x Reader

You met when you were sixteen and from there, your lives ebbed and flowed closer and further away from one another but there was always something that brought you together.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

1906

When you were a child your parents' marriage always seemed too difficult, with such a lack of care or affection for each other. More like two adults who had married for social convention than for love and you decided then and there that you'd never accept anything less than love.

Your teenage years had a few flings but you knew you were never in love with them, there was one boy you had met whilst watching your younger siblings play on Watery Lane with some other local children.

This boy didn't approach you initially, instead looked at you across the street with an inquisitive expression as he sat in a doorway with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. You decided to walk over to him which seemed to take the boy by surprise.

"Can I have a smoke?" You asked, attempting to start a conversation. He quickly scrambled to his feet and was noticeably smaller than you but most boys were at your age anyways.

"What's… what's your name?" He asked and you smiled before rolling up a cigarette and holding it between your fingers.

"I'm Y/n, and you?" You looked at him expectantly and he quickly brought out a pack of matches.

"I'm Tommy," he smiled and gestured to where the children were playing. "That's my brother John and my sister Ada. Arthur's around here somewhere."

"How old are you, Tommy?" You lit your cigarette and Tommy looked at you hesitantly before answering.

"I'm sixteen, I know you would have no way of realising that. I still haven't had my growth spurt." Tommy huffed and you smirked before telling him you were also sixteen. "Do you live 'round here?"

"I'm at the end of the street," you smiled "I hadn't seen you before either, if that's what you meant." You struck a match and lit your cigarette before handing them back to Tommy.

"Will I see you again?" He asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"I suppose you will. But I'll be busier than before so you'll just have to have wonderful timing." You giggled and Tommy's cheeks went pink.

"I- I only meant that we could do more than watch our little brothers play." He stumbled over his words and you found it quite endearing.

"I'd like that. You'll have to meet me after around 5 at the school. I get extra tuition there on weekdays." You took a deep inhale of nicotine and your head seemed to clear.

"Why are you at school still?" He asked.

"Because, Tommy, I am trying to pass an entrance exam. They have a women's college in London so for the next two years I have to work harder than I have before." You felt the fogginess in your brain returning but you had to ignore it.

"I never considered leaving here and you're going to London, it's impressive." Tommy looked up at you and then averted his gaze, not wanting to make you feel he was too small.

"I have to get out of here, at least for a few years. Small Heath isn't the problem, it's my parents and their lack of concern for my education." You rolled your eyes and leant against the brick wall behind you. Tommy saw what you were doing and followed your actions, wanting to seem interesting.

"Jesus." Tommy let out a long breath and you nodded.

"There's no other way for me to break the cycle of my family never earning enough to get by and constantly being worried, I can fix it all." You tapped some ash off your cigarette.

"I can't say I could match you academically but I could definitely beat you at cards." He joked and you smiled.

"I wouldn't be so sure." You looked down at him.

"I could absolutely rinse you when you get all rich." Tommy raised an eyebrow and you looked at him with offense.

"Now that will definitely have to be tested." You smirked.

For the next two years Tommy would meet you after tuition every single day and when you didn't have tuition you would be spending the day with one another. Going on walks, visiting his family or going to his uncle's dockyard and messing about there. He was your escape from the fogginess in your brain that crept up when you thought about the future. He made you laugh and feel at ease with the world.

Tommy had figuratively and literally grown up in front of your eyes, now a bit taller than you and a lot more mature. The two of you acted like an old married couple with the way you bickered and then made up. But the two of you had never breached the subject of romance. Regardless of the Shelby brothers' teasing, the two of you had never brought it up.

You got a lot closer with Tommy's aunt, Polly when her daughter Anna was born. You loved babies and wanted to help in any way possible with childcare. Her and her brother Michael were angels to look after, most of the Shelby brood were. But they were always a bit more mischievous than the Gray children.

When Finn was born things got significantly difficult for Tommy. His mother was dead, his father had abandoned them and you didn't have the social faculties to try and soothe the hurt. You tried to help with Finn whenever Polly had to work or the Shelby offspring went to try to find work. But it wasn't the same between you and Tommy, he had taken the position of the leader of the family and the responsibility weighed on him greatly.

"Tom," you asked as you leant against the same wall you'd met in front of two years prior. "Can I have a cig?" You asked with a pleading smile, he looked unimpressed but rolled you one anyway.

"When's your entrance exam?" He asked.

"It's next week, I'm absolutely terrified. I didn't think trying to get matriculated would be so stressful after this much preparation but I'm losing it." You let out a long sigh and rubbed your eyes.

"You need time to chill out. Polly is with Finn, Ada and John all day tomorrow so we could go for a walk? Take the bus out to the countryside or something?" He suggested and you could have blushed. You didn't want to admit that you had feelings for Tommy but it was hard to not feel that way when he was just so wonderful.

"I would like that very much." You smiled broadly and Tommy bowed his head, trying to hide that he was blushing too.

The next few months after your entrance exams in London were a lot more relaxed than you thought they'd be. But it was all down to Tommy. He did everything possible to spend time with you and never even mentioned university so you could take your mind off it. All you could do was look at him adoringly as he made you tea and helped look after Anna and Finn. Polly often joked that the two of you looked like "a couple with a baby". The first time she said it you looked up from cradling Finn and Tommy looked up from spoon feeding Finn his milk. The two of you simply blushed to yourselves and never spoke of it again.

But the family was beginning to see you as a couple regardless of what the two of you thought about it. One night- more alcohol fueled than you wanted to admit- the two of you had been lounging all over one another as you drank more and more pints when someone started a daring game. Most of it was boilerplate dares until Arthur focussed his attention on the two of you.

"Tommy, I dare you to kiss Y/n!" He announced with a resounding cheer from everyone taking part. You looked at Tommy with a confusing expression and Tommy went to refuse but you put a hand on his cheek in some drunken confidence. He turned his head to look at you before leaning forward and kissing you deeply. In the back of his mind Tommy could hear his brother's laughing but none of it mattered. He was kissing you. Kissing the person who had made him anxious when they first met and now continually impressed him with their dedication and affection for others. The two of you pulled apart and both finished your pints before going up to the bar together to order another.

"Well that was…" you slurred and Tommy hiccuped which made you laugh.

"I liked it." Tommy said in a very serious voice before you both started laughing.

"I know you're definitely too drunk to remember this tomorrow but I've wanted that to happen for so long." To stop yourself drunkenly stumbling you were leaning against his shoulder with your eyes fluttering shut.

"You think I haven't?" Tommy asked as the pints came and you were convinced you misheard him.

"Huh?" You said as he went to move back to the table.

"You heard what I said!" He said happily before turning around and heading for the table. You stood for a moment and had to check your bearings, leaning against the bar. He'd wanted to kiss you? Your head was spinning and you didn't know how to process that information so you headed outside. The cold autumnal air hit you like a slap and woke you up a bit. You needed to calm down and try to figure out what had just happened.

Tommy turned around to see where you'd got to and saw your pint still on the bar. He knew it was unlikely you'd leave it so he stood up and looked around a bit before walking outside. The air also woke him up a bit and as he looked around he saw you leaning on the wall of the Garrison smoking a hurriedly rolled cigarette. He stood in front of you and took the cigarette out of your mouth before smoking some of it himself, you just looked down at his shoes and it made him shuffle uncomfortably.

"This is the longest we've been silent with one another the whole time I've known you." Tommy noted and you nodded without a reply. "What's wrong?" He finally asked and you stole back your cigarette.

"I'm just coming to terms with the fact that you wanted to kiss me." You wouldn't raise your gaze from his shoes and Tommy sighed.

"But you said you wanted to?" Tommy said, confused.

"I did, I do. But I didn't know that you did. For how long?" You asked.

"Since the day I met you, Y/n." Tommy admitted without any shame and you smiled.

"Even when you were that short I found you endearing so I suppose I did pretty early on as well." You finally met his gaze and could stare at nothing else but his eyes.

"So what are you so confused about?" He asked, taking a step closer to you.

"The eventuality that we might hate each other," You paused. "I don't know if I could live with it."

"Why would we hate each other?" Tommy seemed even more confused.

"If something happens and then the two of us grow apart and everything changes and I don't know." You trailed off and just lent against the wall and looked up at the sky.

"You're thinking too much again." Tommy smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"You're a bastard." You smiled a bit, not willing to admit he was right.

"You need to be in the moment." He said softly, moving slightly closer to you, your eyes met his before he leant down and kissed you.

You spent the night with him after that but waking up in his bed partially clothed with a banging headache, all you could feel… was regret. You prayed he wouldn't remember the night, the kiss and everything after. As you left that morning from the Shelby house you were so familiar with, you almost didn't look back.

By the following week much has gone back to normal between you and Tommy with neither of you broaching the topic of the night in question because what was there to say? There was an air of difference between the two of you but you refused to address it. You were back to hanging out together platonically, looking after each other's siblings and dealing with all the teasing about you both 'looking like a couple'. Even if you had to suppress your feelings forever it would be worth it. Tommy was worth more than a night of a drunken mishap, it wasn't that you regretted the act, you did regret the way it happened. You didn't want the first kiss you shared to be influenced by alcohol or the first night you spent together. You wanted it to be normal.

That week you received your letter from Bedford College and practically ran to the Shelby household. You burst through the door unable to speak with how out of breath you were, all of the Shelby's looked at you as if you were insane but you shook the letter at them whilst puffing. Polly took the letter from your hand and quickly opened it as you keeled over.

"Oh my god." Polly said quietly looking at the letter.

"W-what?" You managed to get out, absolutely terrified.

"You got in." She turned her head to you with wide eyes and a smile. You genuinely felt like you might faint.

"We've got an academic in the family!" Arthur yelled with a smile and even Finn started laughing happily. Your eyes fixed on Tommy and he smiled at you but his eyes were sad.

"Well done sweetheart." Polly said before embracing you in a close hug. "You deserve it."

"I think I might need a drink." You said quietly and she laughed.

Polly cooked you all dinner and sitting together you couldn't believe you would have evenings like this for a while. You looked at the faces of all of the people you were able to call your family and just wanted them all to come with you. The security blanket you'd had these last two years would be so far away in only a month. Anything you knew would be so far away and it was incredibly daunting. As you were all cleaning up, you and Tommy had been saddled with washing and drying, it had been about five minutes and he hadn't said a word.

"Are you alright?" You asked him and he nodded. "You have absolutely nothing to say to me?" You prompted and he rested his hand against the countertop.

"I'm happy for you." He replied in the most deadpan voice you'd ever heard before walking out of the backdoor. You sighed deeply before placing the plate you were holding back in the sink and following him outside. He was sitting on a rusty metal chair smoking a cigarette and didn't walk away as you approached him so it seemed he did want to discuss whatever was going on.

"Please talk to me," you said softly as you pulled an upturned box closer to sit near Tommy.

"What is there to say?" He brought his eyes to yours and you could see the glint of a tear forming before he sniffed and looked down.

"I know everything is changing, you know I love this place, I love your family I love…" you trailed off. "Anyways, you know I love it here with all of you but just because I love something doesn't mean that I can't want better opportunities for myself even if they are somewhere else. You understand what it is to want to protect people and I can do that with proper qualifications and a good job. I can help all of you the way I want too."

"We're not asking for charity." Tommy said harshly and you were taken aback.

"Charity? It would be a gift for all you have done for me." You were referring to the whole family but it felt as if your words were so directed towards Tommy you just didn't know how to express yourself.

"Everything is going to change." Tommy said simply and you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously.

"But you knew it would, for years you've known my plan." You tried to explain and he scoffed.

"It's different now. We're different now and it's not the same as before." Tommy tried to subtlety wipe his eyes but you saw it and it sent a pang to your chest.

"What do you mean?" You tried to deflect from what he was referring too.

"Don't tell me you're still pulling a 'Im too drunk to remember' excuse. You know what I'm talking about and honestly, I think we both might be finished with this conversation." Tommy stood up and tried to walk away but you grabbed his hand and then his leg and held on like a scolded child. You didn't know how to express yourself but you knew you wanted him with you. In whatever capacity that was, you didn't care.

"Please." You whispered and you heard Tommy sigh before stroking your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Tommy sat down again. Your eyes were glassy and threatening to release tears at any point and Tommy knew that. You took hold of Tommy's hand and traced the lines of his palm so you didn't have to look him in the eye.

"I did what I did because I was scared. I meant what I said when I was talking about how worried I was that you'd hate me because things would change. Not that I didn't want them too but that they could end badly and then nothing would work the same as before. I'd much rather sacrifice my own happiness than our bond and the closeness I have with your family." You explained quietly and Tommy closed his fingers around your index finger tracing his hand. You looked up at him and could see the hint of a smile before he pulled you closer to him.

"The affection I feel for you would overpower any petty fight or disagreement we might have." He said softly and you smiled slightly, it tugged at the edges of your mouth like an annoying child.

"I'm sorry for leaving and-" you began but Tommy just shook his head.

"Everything is settled now." Tommy picked up your hand and kissed your palm. "I think-"

"We're going to the pub do you-" Arthur started saying as he opened the backdoor but then saw you holding hands and burst out laughing before going inside.

"Oh Jesus Christ." Tommy muttered that you could only laugh, which caused you to lean backwards and forget you weren't sitting on a chair. You tumbled backwards and hit the ground hard but you were laughing so intensely you ignored the pain.

"Fuck me, that hurt." You giggled as Tommy helped you to your feet. When you were stable Tommy kept hold of your hands and looked down into your eyes.

He was so beautiful. It took you back every time you looked at him, the way his lips parted slightly when he was near you or how his hair fell over his face so he'd constantly be pushing it back. Everything Tommy did was so endearing it was hard not to feel the way you did for him. When he leant forward to kiss you, it was the first time you had both been affectionate with one another with clear heads. It didn't feel real, like a daydream that would wander into your head whenever you were staring off into the distance- whenever someone tried to get your attention and it took a moment it was because you were usually thinking about Tommy.

"I'd do anything for that to happen again." Tommy whispered as the two of you lent your foreheads against one another.

Your stomach felt like it jumped out of your body, did an excited somersault and jumped back into your body. All you could do was smile.

next chapter

[istanblogs]

Deep and sad eyes of lovers..

Pride and Prejudice - Mr Darcy

Atonement - Robbie Turner

War and Peace - Andrei Bolkonsky

Peaky Blinders - Thomas Shelby

Anna Karenina - Alexei Vronsky

Anna Karenina - Konstantin Levin

Victoria - Prince Albert

[maximura]

[normalbrothers]

s03ep01 | s06ep04

[issdisgrace]

Happy pride month you gay fuckers. Also happy pride month to all my trans brothers. I love you all and I’m glad your here. I know being apart of the LGBTQIA+ and being out is hard specially when you live in a country or place that doesn’t really like you for you. And if you guys ever need a supporter or someone to talk to I’m always here.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Welcome

Hey everyone! My name is Alexis! I’m 20 years old and I write Fanfic (x reader) Below is my masterlist:

Masterlist (Will not be updated)

Hannibal Masterlist

The Boys Masterlist

Challengers Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

OBX Masterlist

Star Trek Masterlist

(Other fics I have can be found in the first Masterlist until further notice)

Requests

I take requests on different types of Shows/Movies. If you would like to see the list please check my bio. If you don’t see a fandom on there just ask!

I currently have written for:

Hannibal Lecter

Will Graham

Baz Blackwell

Dean Winchester

Castiel

Homelander

Billy Butcher

Soldier Boy

A-Train

Obi Wan Kenobi

Art Donaldson

Patrick Zweig

Wolverine

Deadpool

Rafe Cameron

Data Soong

Spock

FAVORITES

These a few of my personal favorites that I have written:

I Fucked Your Wife (Hannibal Version)

Hannibal’s Innocent Friend (Will Graham)

Bully (Homelander)

Forget (Homelander)

Used (Billy Butcher)

Want (Patrick Zweig)

Trapped (Art Donaldson/Patrick Zweig)

[yzuposts]

I feel like on tumblr my pipeline went like this:

bald freak supreme who has a cannibal harem (Feyd Rautha)

blue-eyed twink who starts a holy war, rides giant worm monsters in his free time (Paul Atreides)

1920s haunted gangster who has killed and WILL kill again (Tommy Shelby)

silver-haired gruff Legolas who’s been through a lot. always needs a good bath bc monster guts are messy (Geralt of Rivia)

tortured Chosen One with daddy and mommy issues (Anakin Skywalker)

sad emo rich boy who beats people up at night to vent his anger and grief from his parents’ death, he loves eyeblack (Bruce Wayne)

really hot Sith with really hot hands and really hot arms did I mention he was really hot? (Qimir)

like. guys. I have a type

[weaponizedvirtue]

The Face I Hide Behind, Pt. 1 {Peaky Blinders}

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: You met Thomas Shelby as Eli Carter, your hair shorn short, your chest bound, the Royal Engineers crest proudly adorning your uniform. You find him again as discarded Marie Tillerson, a woman shamed but remembered.

Notes: I discovered recently that many woman enlisted in the world wars disguised as men. It made me wonder what being in a high-stress environment like the tunnels would be like as a woman, especially if you were trying to hide that secret from someone like Tommy. Soft Tommy, implied romance, reader can be viewed as gender fluid or female with gender norms defied.

Part two can be found here.

*

"Carter?"

You know that voice. Like the back of your own hand, you know that voice. You turn sharply and sure enough, pale blue eyes and squared shoulders stoop to meet your own.

"Shelby. Jesus, haven't seen you in awhile."

He lifts his eyebrows at that, his gaze still piercing through you like a spotlight. You’d almost forgotten how unyielding the man’s focus could be. His silence says more than he does, shouting and cursing at you even when he won’t. You rock back onto your heels, gesturing behind you with a shake of her thumb. You know what comes next, know what it looks like just before the dog bites, and your knees ache with anticipation.

“I can go. Sir. If you’d prefer.”

Thomas blinks and it cracks the smooth glass facade of his face, something of a tell that you’d always tried to drag out of him before. He considers you carefully, tapping his cigarette back against the palm of his hand before shaking his head.

“You still drink?”

It’s unexpected, though certainly not unwelcome. You nod and wonder if he even knows the half of it, then open your mouth to ask him the same question. But Thomas moves again before you can, his cigarette disappearing between his teeth with practiced precision. He turns, confident as always that you’ll follow without question, then strides back towards the outskirts of town.

“Come on then.”

*

The Garrison. He's as strategic as ever, it seems.

Your eyes rove slowly across the sign in the window as if there's some other message inside of it. You can feel Thomas's eyes watching you, but he always did know the importance of pacing. When you glance back at him, he opens the door a little wider and beckons you inside with a jerk of his head.

As you enter, you mark each and every detail down in an invisible ledger- three haggard customers, one a good deal younger than the others, four dimmed lamps, eleven tables, give or take, and a waitress sweeping in and out of view as two drunkards sling cards across their table.

It's comfortable, somehow. Lived in, loud enough to be familiar, soft enough to be ignored.

"What'll it be, Tom?"

The bartender leans forward with a smile, running a hand towel across the bar counter as you and Thomas settle behind it.

"Whiskey. And a scotch for Marie."

Your heart jolts to a stop and you turn to stare at Thomas. Normally, you'd have been annoyed at a man ordering you a drink without consulting you on your preference first. But a former sergeant major is a step above the regular smitten drunk at the bar and besides the point-

"You remembered."

"You have odd taste."

You don’t dictate that with a response, your eyes frozen on his face as you try to jumpstart your own heart.

"My name, Mr. Shelby. I didn't think you'd remember my n-"

"You were a special case. And it's Tom." His eyes flick over to you for the briefest of seconds as you open your mouth to protest, a command unto itself.

"You're in Birmingham now, not some hole in the mud. It's Tom."

"Tom. Okay."

The use of first names seems too personal somehow and for a moment, you miss the familial barking of last names and orders and swears that you had become used to on the field. There is a sealed promise of companionship in such actions and a wall of formality to hide behind in the absence of confidence. Here, you’re exposed.

The bartender returns quickly with your drinks, blessedly oblivious to your conversation, before disappearing again. You and Thomas sit in silence, sipping slowly at your glasses, and a loathsome wave of longing rolls through your gut. You’ve missed this. The comfortable camaraderie of someone you know simply inhabiting the same space.

“Thought you had family in Shere. What’re you doing in Small Heath, mm?”

You swallow, a long-stowed explanation waiting to spill from your throat. You want to admit just how poorly the past few months have gone, want to lift a mirror to Thomas’s face and ask if he thinks he’s done any better. You want to search Thomas Shelby’s pockets and pluck out a medal or two, just for penance, just for something to keep for yourself.

But it’s a flood of anger you know he doesn’t deserve and it tears out of you in cascading waves and a crashing tide to consume everything in its path. Instead, you take another slow sip of your drink and focus solely on the taste as it passes over your tongue. The torrent in your stomach slowly settles and you shrug instead, your eyes circling over the lip of your glass.

“Shere is small. People talked.”

They’d done much more than talk. They’d whispered and shouted and scowled and you’d grown tired of it quickly enough. You had stood at the base of your parent’s house and they’d spoken to you like you were a stranger, guarded and grieving as if their child hadn't really come back from the war. And there had been a moment, somewhere between your mother drawing the curtains and your father’s quiet request for you to leave, that your chest caved in on itself. Some part of you had clawed at the thought, screamed and cried and pleaded with him inside the walls of your mind. But you’d given too much of yourself to the tunnels and to a team who no longer considered you one of their one. Some part of you had wondered if it was just a consequence you should have expected.

So you’d nodded, swallowed your pain, and the next train out of town had carried you with it.

“England is plenty big enough. I can go somewhere they don’t.”

You can feel Thomas’s gaze, as pointed as it ever had been, but you can’t bring yourself to check if it’s sympathy on the man’s face or the smug understanding of a disappointed parent.

You both fall into silence again, but the quiet itches against your skin this time, a drenched blanket too heavy to remove from your shoulders.

There are things you’ve meant to say, words that demanded to be spoken, and if the universe was kind enough to lend you his company even one more time, it would have to be enough.

You frown, flinching in nervous anticipation, then down the half glass of scotch you have left. Liquid courage, they called it. Your hands clench around your elbows and you drag in one last breath before turning your body to face your former officer completely.

His chin lifts, somewhere between confidence and curiosity, and he takes a sip from his own, slow but no less invested than your own.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to you.”

Your hands flutter forward, aimed for Thomas’s own for a fraction of a moment before the muscle memory of the past two years kicks back hard. You hesitate, swallow back the need for physical comfort, and stow your fingers flat beneath your thighs.

“I’d wanted to say goodbye, Tom.”

But you hadn’t. Hadn’t been allowed to say goodbye to anyone really.

Your last day is still hazy in your memory, another battlefield mess where time didn’t work the way it should, where every element of reality bled into the next. You remember a hissing. A warning, half forming in your mouth, and then a flash at the edge of your vision. The earth collapsing around you and someone’s hand, grabbing at your collar and yanking you forward. Dust and grit filling your lungs where the oxygen should be. There was no goddamn air. No goddamn air and the heat and the damp and the darkness crowded around you like smog.

The path leading out of the tunnels had locked shut with a boom and something large and heavy had collided with the back of your head. The surrounding torches had gone out in one quick burst, swallowing up the world in black.

A snap sounds loud and sharp inside of your ears and you startle; the Garrison slides back into place around you. Air rushes back into your lungs, spinning through your bloodstream so fast it makes your head spin. Beside you, Thomas lowers his hand from your face, his fingers slowly relaxing from where they’d clicked together.

“Hmm.” It comes out as more of a burst of air than an actual word. You blink back at him for a moment, breathing in through your nose, picturing your heart beating slower and slower until it returns to an almost normal pace. “General was there when I woke up. Said I didn’t have time for goodbyes. Said ladies shouldn't be on the field and that I was being sent home. Honorable discharge.”

It’s strange, that you can’t remember an explosion or the pulsing moments of fear in all the life or death situations you’ve faced. Yet each and every expression on your fellow soldiers’ faces as you crept from the medic’s tent would forever remain stamped on the back of your eyelids. It had been a moment you’d prayed to avoid- that the war would end with you still standing and the fury and shock and silence that came with an exposed lie would pass with no consequence.

Thomas Shelby could have remained the man across the fire. He could have stayed the companion who shared the little food he had while you were on watch, the friend who had muttered playful barbs and quiet encouragement to you after your first week in the tunnels, the confidant you trusted with all but one secret.

And you could have avoided the look of solemn judgment chiseled into his face as you pulled the car door shut behind you.

“I was angry with you.” There's pain in Thomas's voice as he speaks. His eyes glance down at his glass and he takes a long, slow draw of his whiskey.

The words burn, though you’d guessed at the fact months before. You nod, swallowing back something like a sob, and tuck your chin down sharply.

“Had the right to be. I wanted to tell you. If I’d told anyone, it would have been you. Was just… scared you’d turn me in.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

He could shatter bones with his words, you think.

A quiver of sound sits in the back of your throat and for a moment, you allow yourself to imagine what it would have been like. It still would have been difficult, to hide your true identity for the sake of being able to fight for what you believed in. But you wouldn't have been alone. Would have been protected in the way only sharing one's secrets could ensure.

And there would have been Tom, walking beside you, where before you'd taken the road alone.

You stare back at Thomas, searching for the tiniest hint of a lie, the flicker of a fuse igniting him into cinders. You wait for the rage, for the silent dismissal, but it never comes. A breath of shocked disbelief breaks from behind your teeth and you lean forward into your hands.

"Jesus, Shelby, you always did know how to render us speechless."

"It's Tom."

It's Tom. Even after her fall from grace and the bruising lack of trust she'd placed in him, it's still Tom.

Your eyes flutter back to the man and something like hope blossoms inside of your chest, warring with the shame that churns in your stomach. 

"Tom. I'm sorry."

"I know."

He does, you think. His voice is just as quiet as your own, just as soft and calculated as it used to be around the torchlight of your camp. His lips curl neatly around each word, purposeful and focused, and when he looks at you like he does, accusing and forgiving all at the same time, it feels like your cracks seal up just enough to consider yourself solid.

It’s easier after that. The two of you fall into conversation, the kind that you remember from before, where you talk of nothing and everything and the hours pass like seconds. The glasses pile up quickly enough and the walls begins to tilt just a little to the left. The glow of the lamps around you softens the ache in your bones and the room seems to shrink to the bar alone, to the two seats you occupy, and the cocksure figure of the man sitting across from you.

By the time you look around again, the bar sits almost empty, only a straggler or two hugging onto their tables or so deep into their cups that they won't recover till morning.

"It's late."

There's hesitance in your voice, an unwillingness to leave what you've missed for so long. It had been easy enough to convince yourself since your discharge that you were fine alone, happy with solitude, but the idea of losing Thomas’s company so soon is startling. 

“You got a place to stay?”

You shake your head, shrugging. You’ve been traveling long enough now that you’ve learned the alternatives to a roof over your head. There are places to go, groups you can fit yourself into if it just means a place to sleep for the night. Summer is on its way anyhow and you always did enjoy being out underneath the stars.

“Right.” Thomas slaps his hand against the counter, his expression resolute. It’s one you’ve grown used to, a look that says something is an order and not a suggestion. You don’t disobey orders. “My place then.”

The offer still isn’t one you expect and you hurry to get to your feet as Thomas adjusts his coat and heads for the door. 

“It’s not necessary, Tom.”

He slips out of the bar quickly, his gait focused, and you hurry out after him. Your feet shift unsteadily beneath you as the street tilts slightly, but you manage to slide forward to stand in front of the man. Without thinking, you drag both hands up onto Thomas’s shoulders, as much to keep you standing as it is to give him pause. You blink for a moment, admiring the scratch of wool against your palms, and a chuckle sounds in your ears. Fingers slowly pluck your own from Thomas’s jacket and his hand squeezes around your wrist.

“Come on.”

Thomas’s tone leaves no room for debate, but his stance does, and appreciation rolls slowly back to you. For all his insistence, he’ll still wait long enough for the decision to be yours.

Still, you’re afraid you’ve misunderstood. Afraid he wants more than you can give or means less than you could hope.

“By stay, you just meant-” You roll your balance onto your heels, well aware that the action could have tremendous consequences with the amount of liquor you’ve consumed over the past few hours. “-to… stay, yeah? Not…” The words escape you and heat rises into your cheeks. 

“You never were very good with words.”

Your right arm jerks upward almost by habit and you clap your left hand down across your bicep before you can stop yourself. A bark of laughter escapes from Thomas’s throat and a traitorous grin climbs onto your lips. The man’s moods are alarmingly infectious.

“I like numbers better.”

Light from the nearest streetlamp glances off of Thomas’s face as his expression softens; he takes a slow inhale from his cigarette and the tip sends a flare of orange over his cheeks that sets your skin alight.

“Respite from the storm. That’s all I’m offering, Tillerson.”

“Mmm.” You consider him carefully, wishing you had the courage to tell him that he had been just that a hundred times already. Instead, you nod, and follow him home.

*

It’s a modest flat, smaller than you can imagine Thomas Shelby normally fitting into. But that’s Thomas to a tee, carefully remaking himself to match his surroundings. And it’s quiet and warm and if that’s not reminiscent of home, you’re not sure what is.

“It’s not much. Not yet.”

“But it’s something.” You turn and smile softly back at him, grateful to even somewhere that’s warm and dry.

“Bed’s all yours. I’ll take the floor.” 

He sheds his jacket off with a shrug and his knees bend as if to drop out from beneath him. Stubborn insistence rises inside of your chest and you pat the spot on the bed beside you, shaking your head.

“Tom. How many nights have we slept beside each other?”

“This is diff-”

“It’s not.” A yawn forces its way out of your throat and you blink sleepily back at the man. “Come on, mate. It's still me.”

Thomas remains standing for a moment, his lips twisting as he watches you stretch towards the ceiling. Your hand pats the bed again and without waiting for his response, you turn over on your stomach, pressing your face into the sheets. The day’s events catch up to you suddenly, dragging you under in a wave of fatigue; it’s been too long since you’ve found yourself in a safe place and sleep beckons.

Slowly, so slowly you're not sure it isn’t a dream, a weight settles on the bed beside you. A body comes to rest at your back and with a pleased murmur, you fall asleep.