#peaky

[warnersister]

How the peaky boys react when dating a girl with a praise kink (nsfw) -> headcannon

Goes without saying, nsfw warning

Find the request here, sorry it took so long

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had you figured out before you’d figured yourself out.

🪖He knew what was going on in your head before your did.

🪖You were working late one Friday at the Garrison, of course many working men joyously engaging in Friday night drinking and drunkenness while their wives whittled wistfully back home.

🪖You weren’t expecting the Blinders tonight, but of course you’d always find room for the Peaky boys in this establishment, regardless if you were chocker with customers that the bar didn’t really have the capacity for. The door chimed and you spun, peering to see if you had the numbers to accommodate the x amount of customers you had walking through your door.

🪖”Evening boys, meeting or drinks?” You ask, readying yourself to go clean the business Roman that was wordlessly their property. “Just drinks tonight, love” Tommy answered with a small smile and you nod, placing your hands on your hips; balled into fists while you ponder around to find their empty table.

🪖You notice a table of rowdy youngsters occupying the usual Shelby spot and you narrow your eyes at them, internally questioning if you had the inner morals to boot paying customers out of their seats.

🪖”Be a good girl and get us a booth please, sweetheart” Tommy asks, well instructs, as he lights up another cigarette.

🪖He noticed the way your eyes darkened at his request and your lips parted slightly. You nodded. “Of course Tommy, give me a moment lads” you say, heading to the young gentleman to ask them to either head to the open seats at the bar or get gone.

🪖"hiya lads, sorry to bother.” You say as you approach the lot who look at you in question “but I’m afraid we need this booth, happy to serve you up at the bar or I’m sure another will open soon” you wince, apologetically. One scoffs. “Why should we? We’re paying customers?” He asks, beginning to instigate somewhat of an issue, when Tommy swoops in “I believe she asked you nicely” he grunts, and it was almost awe-strucking watching how fast the boys scampered out the door with mediocre apologies.

🪖Thomas wanted to test his small hypothesis again, placing a gentle hand on your lower back “such a good lass to your old Tom, aren’t you?” He hums and he watches as your jaw slackens and you swallow on your own saliva, beginning to stumble around a response. “My pleasure, Tom”

🪖And then a few months later, when he’d taken you out a couple of times you were more widely known as Tommy’s girl than you were your own name.

🪖It was again a Friday evening, usual crowd shuffling to their places and so were the boys.

🪖“evening boys” you smile, handing an older man his shandy as he makes his way back to his missus who was still sipping on her gin.

🪖“evening sweetheart” Tommy smiles, leaning across the bar to peck your lips as the rest of the boys head to their normal spot.

🪖business as usual

🪖you begin pouring their beers automatically, following Tommy to the table with umpteen pints and of course an apple juice for John, whom you’d cut off from alcohol.

🪖“good girl” Tommy applauds as you hand them their drinks, quiet enough that the rest of his rough crowd didn’t hear but loud enough for you to become unsteady on your feet.

🪖you didn’t know when you’d agreed to go home with Tommy. You don’t even remember locking the door to the Garrison. But now he had you buried deep beneath him as he rutted into you and there was nothing you really cared about more right now. If there was a problem you can deal with it when you were finished.

🪖he was trying to coax it out of you. Trying to coax out the fact that you revelled in it when he praised you. And it got him off to see that when other blokes such as Harry called you a ‘good lass’ for a decent shift, you didn’t bat an eyelid.

🪖“Come on love, got one more in you haven’t you?” You shook your head at his question, almost hoping that he’d let you rest after your third. “C’mon sweetheart, don’t you want to be a good girl for your Tommy?” He asks and you nod up at him through dazed eyes. “Hmm?” He asks, holding your jaw still with one hand while the other held him up above you. “Please. Please Tommy. Wanna be good for you” you mumble out, and he smirks - rutting into you at yet again, another relentless pace.

🪖”that’s it. Such a good girl f’me. So so good” he praises as your moans progressively get louder as you mewl beneath him.

🪖and eventually, when you’d both calmed down, he looked at you and smirked “good girl aren’t you?”

🪖”shut up Tom.”

Alfie🧸

🧸Eats that shit up, no crumbs, licks the plate clean.

🧸already kind of babies you, he doesn’t mean too. You’re a few years his younger and as your husband he sees it as his job to protect and provide for you while doting and taking care of you like any good man should.

🧸then one night he comes home a bit late from the bakery, readying to apologise when he’d noticed you’d just finished cooking dinner. “Well here I was all soppy and ready to apologise to you, yeah. And no, my good little girls just gone and made dinner!” He says, almost chuffed. You giggle and plate up the food, sitting across from him as he begins to eat.

🧸”what ‘y doing over there, then?” He scoffs “c’mere.” He instructs as you move to sit in his lap and he relishes in the meal you’d prepared “you’re so good to your old man, aren’t you?” He hums “so so good” he exclaims, only trying to show his appreciation but he noticed your pupils dilate at his words. He brushes it off, nothing major.

🧸later in the evening his sciatica was playing up so you wordlessly left the room to go draw him a bath with some new salts you’d bought from your elderly neighbour whom your husband refused to speak to on account of her being ‘a witch’ as he said.

🧸”oh you are a good’un aren’t you, poppet?” He hums, as he enters the room, allowing you to help him undress and get into the bath, afterwards preparing to make your leave and get him some medicine from the cupboard downstairs.

🧸”and where do you think you’re going?“ he questions, and you raise a brow “to get you some medicine” “I need no such thing. Now get in here w’me.” He grunts and you do as he says, never one to turn down a good relaxing soak in the bath with your husband.

🧸”there you are, good girl aren’t you? Always listening to your old man. What did I do to deserve you. So perfect” he rambled, and doesn’t notice the ever hazing glint in your eye and when he finally looks down at you he narrows his eyes and finally realised what that look was.

🧸his praises got you going.

🧸”tell y’what would make y’old man feel so much better,” he hums and you cock your head ready to help his pain ease “if you be a good girl f’me and give us a distraction” he suggests and you see the smirk unveiling under his beard, as he reaches for your thigh to pull you over his lap and to settle atop of him. “Seeing as you asked so nicely” you mumbled into his shoulder, as you began to rock against him.

🧸”there you go, there’s a good girl” he says as you come undone on top of him and collapse onto his chest, stroking your back gently with one hand and holding you close with the other. “Y’want to move, poppet he asks?” And you shake your head, eyes closed as you recover.

🧸 as soon as his sciatica pain eases up, he was going to abuse that little trick as often as he could.

Arthur🍺

🍺poor baby needs just as much praise as you do. Thinks he’s a shitty partner

🍺but god when he found out it was like finding the fucking Magna Carta.

🍺it was his ticket out of everything. Came home drunk? “I’m so sorry, you’re so good for putting up with me” In a fight? “you’re such a good wife for patching me up” literally anything you’re not agreeing on? “Oh my good girl”

🍺he’d found out when you were already buried beneath his, mewling as he took out his frustrations on you rather than the man he was originally destined to kill that day.

🍺”y’better feel good about y’self.” He grunts “man’s life was saved cause of you, you and this fucking insatiability.” He thrusts and you groan “please” you number “hmm? Feel good? Little saint you are, fuckin’ angel. Stopped me killin’ a man. Wanna get me into heaven do y’angel? Huh? That’s where you’re sending me?” He asks and you groan louder.

🍺”yeah, cause you’re such a good girl aren’t you?” And that’s when you let out the most gluteal pornographic moan that almost stopped his movements, instead it pushes the throttle and sends the both of you over the edge.

🍺”god Id’ve spared hundreds of men if it meant I got to hear that from you”

John🥃

🥃The Shelby family were enjoying an afternoon at the Garrison. Given, it was incredibly backed with gang members and people dissimilar; still the atmosphere was was light and full of laughter.

🥃you’d volunteered for the Saturday shift seeing as Harry needed extra help nowadays seeing as the customer numbers were ever growing.

🥃John was flirting with you, as ever. While you just rolled your eyes at his antics and offered him another drink.

🥃”blimey, I need to drop drinkin’ the hard stuff. I’m seeing an angel!” John feigned surprise, as he took his cap off his head to greet you, plopping it onto your own as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly. “And I’m seeing a man who’s had one too many. I’m cutting you off” you warn, wagging a finger at him. “Well I do like a lady who takes care of her man” he smirks, but was cut off by a voice that altered the atmosphere in the bar.

🥃”I am looking for Thomas Shelby” the voice announced, and you felt uneasy; John’s face darkened as he clearly recognised the man who was a stranger to yourself. You look to the rest of his family who have a similar stature to him on their faces.

🥃”get behind the bar flower” John mumbles to you calmly, “that’s a good girl. Stay down there, sweetheart” he coos as you duck your head out of sight and into the small crawl space under the kegs.

🥃As the conversation continued, John looks over the counter to you discreetly. And your large doe eyes look back, and he could see the trust in them. He leans his hip against the oak bar edge, holding his hand over and motions for you to give him your own. You thread your hand with his, and he strokes the back of your knuckled gently; giving it a squeeze as Harry instructs them to take this out of his pub.

🥃John gives you one last reassuring squeeze of the hand before grabbing an empty beer bottle and heading out the door with his brothers. A few minutes, a couple of shouts and a gun shot the three walked back in as if nothing had happened.

🥃John leans over the bar “y’alright now, good lass” he says as you peer back up and get back up from your seat on the bar. He rests his arms against the wood and grins at you. “Let y’old John reward you f’ being such a good girl, hm?” He raises a brow and honestly expects nothing from his advance.

🥃you look at the clock on the wall and decide Harry could fend for himself for a while. You look at John and wet your lips, leaning down and grabbing his collar to bring him closer to you. “Meet me in the back”

🥃He jumped over the bar.

Bonnie🥊

🥊revels in it without really meaning too.

🥊also uses it to his advantage. He doesn’t mean it, honest.

🥊you were knelt in front of him, sitting back to rest on your ankles as you wrapped his hands for his fight. “You’re so good t’me, thank you angel” he thanks, stroking your jaw with his thumb.

🥊he knew what he was doing to you. Trying to get in your head.

🥊since he’d fallen hard and fast he’d decided that you were it for him. You were his and he was yours and nothing else. Especially when you agreed to live out his gypsy fantasies with him and give up the traditional home you were so accustomed too.

🥊and he was convinced you’d make the best mum.

🥊so this little praise obsession of yours was the perfect way to sway you onto his wavelength.

🥊”you’re gonna be great tonight, Bon” you say, smiling at him comfortingly. “M nervous” he mumbles and you shake your head, holding his hands in yours “it’s gonna be fine, just go out there and do your best. I’ll always be proud of you.” You say and he seems to settle slightly. “Y’d be such a good mother, darling” he tells you, moving some loose hair out of your face and behind your ear.

🥊he notices a slight blush on your cheeks, and decides to pry. “BONNIE; TIME!” His dad shouts through the door and you tap his leg, standing up to give him his good luck kiss. Instead, he slowly walks you back until your back hits the wall, two wrapped hands caging you.

🥊 “hmm, would’y like tha’? A mammy?” He asks and you stare up at him with dazed yet wide eyes. “Oh you’d be such a good mammy. So caring, so sweet. Y’so good t’me imagine how good y’d be to a young’un.” He hums, resting one hand on your waist. “So, so good” he bumps his nose with yours. “Then I’d marry y’a.” He continues “be a good wife too. The best. Such a good girl” he coos and you audibly whine and he smiles.

🥊”y’d like that? Gonna let me make y’a mammy?” He hums, ghosting his lips over yours “BONNIE!” His dad reiterates and Bonnie huffs. “Y’can do whatever Y’want to do to me, bon” you reply hazily and he smiles as you lean up to kiss him deeply, pulling away to lean your forehead on his, hands cradling his face. “After your fight.” You nod and he raises his brows “promise?” You smile back “promise.”

🥊fastest knockout he’d ever done.

Isaiah♟️

♟️uses it against you. Purposefully

♟️defo teases you for it

♟️you’d be at the garrison, having gone accompanying your twin brother Finn and expecting to see your boyfriend there eventually when you weren’t in your usual spot at home.

♟️he’d turned up around half and hour after you had, only looking to get a drink defo not looking for you.

♟️he sees you at the bar, yet by your side was some bloke he didn’t recognise. Some six foot slime ball with his hair slicked back so far it looked like it created a permanent surprised upkeep on his eyebrows. His suit was brand new, Isaiah assumed the tag was still tucked into a pocket somewhere for him to return and scrounge in the morning.

♟️and why were you talking back?

♟️you were drinking something dark, presumably the alcohol Isaiah preferred for you not to have.

♟️had he bought it you?

♟️Isaiah stormed his way over, fully prepared to lay out the man talking to you and throw you over his shoulder and lead you straight out of the pub; but the conversation you were having with the boy stopped you.

♟️”what d’y say love, wanna get out of here?” He asked “and for the fifth time. No. My husband will be here any minute. He’s a blinder y’know?” You scoff “well he ain’t here now, is he?” He asked you when Isaiah sweeper in and pressed his gun to the man’s temple “isn’t he?” He asked, cocking it as the man before you swallowed and visibly began to sweat.

♟️”I suggest you take yourself out of this pub, out of Birmingham and fucking away from my woman.” He grunts, and the man immediately scampers. Then Isaiah looks to you, and the relief decorating your face is immediately apparent.

♟️”oh Isaiah I’m so sorry I tried to get rid of him-” you begin and then your boy begins to smile “your husband?” He asked, raising a brow cockily and you begin to rock back onto your heels “just wanted to get rid of him” you mumble, and he wraps hands around your waist and settles them on the small of your back.

♟️”you’re so good to me, aren’t you doll?” He asks, smirk growing “rejecting other men f’me?” He hums and you nod “y’know good girls get rewarded, don’t you?”

♟️or when you’re not behaving as he’d want you too.

♟️”where d’y think you’re going?“ he asks as you open the door.

♟️”Ada invited me for drinks” “y’not going, not safe. Not w’them Italians crawling round” he instructs, expecting you to shrug off your coat and come join him in the lounge. He turns but hears the door click shut. And when he’d looked, you were gone.

♟️he was fucking fuming, livid, murderous.

♟️and when you’d shown back home at 2 in the morning, hiccuping, he was already stood at the door with his arms crossed.

♟️you smiled “hi Isaiah” you giggled, but he didn’t say anything as he walked you backwards and your back hit the wall. “In what fucking world does a woman not listen to her man?” He asked and you were immediately silenced. “Hmm?” He asks “why did you think you could just go out without me, you know how dangerous it is” he says “well-” “good girls don’t disobey their men, d’they princess” and he noticed how you cowered and sunk into your shell.

♟️he threw you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs, rutting into you in the bedroom more times than you could count telling you how disappointed in you he was and every time you were close to release, he’d stop and tell you why you didn’t deserve it.

♟️he loved torturing you.

Michael🎱

🎱so belittling with it.

🎱loves to use it against you whenever he can because it always means that he wins

🎱the first time he’d sussed this little predicament of yours out was when you were entertaining him while his brother dealt business with your father deep within the Cotswolds.

🎱you’d served him tea and polite conversation, talking about your purity and how much he idolised you.

🎱”and you’ve no husband?” He asked and he placed his cup on his saucer you and you straightened your posture before responding “no, no husband” you confirm and he is forced to stifle his smirk “well you’d make the perfect wife” he tells you and he notices how you swallow harshly “well that comes appreciated, mister gray” you reply and he narrows his eyes.

🎱and then when you were married and doting on him, he’d always remind you of how he impacted you.

🎱he knew just how to get to you. “Dear, go be a good girl and fix me a drink” and you’d do so. “I’ve got to go to London for the week. Be a good lass and don’t leave the house” and you wouldn’t.

🎱and sometimes he’d take you to family meetings. Personally believing that the women shouldn’t really be at these meetings. But a quick slap to the head from his mother soon sorted him out.

🎱and then he walked in on John shamelessly flirting with you, and he knew full well you weren’t meaningfully engaging with his cousin, it’s what you were taught to do from a young age. But still, you were engaging.

🎱”flirting with my woman, John?” Michael grunted, entering the room to which the former rolled his eyes “just showing her what a real man could give her” he winked at you before swaggering out of the room. “Why did you entertain him?” “I didn’t-” “thought you’d promised to be a good girl for me tonight?” And that shut you right up. The desire to be praised overpowering all.

🎱 “how ‘bout you make it up to me tonight, sweetheart?”

Finn🎞️

🎞️for his whole life, Finn has always been overshadowed by his older brothers. So being able to have so much control over you was so addictively intoxicating that he just loved to abuse his power.

🎞️and he’s at that age in his early twenties when his hormones are heightened and all he wants to do is act like a rabbit in a hutch during mating season.

🎞️and sometimes you weren’t up for it.

🎞️not until he figured you out.

🎞️he’d had you going for three rounds. Overwhelmed from how his brothers had been belittling him all day during business meetings and finally finding a vector to take it out on.

🎞️you’d come undone beneath him, very exhausted from the relentlessness of his actions, when he blurted out “fuck you’re so good at this” as he released inside of you. You mewled and whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Again” you mumbled and he raised his brows “you sure?” He asked and you opened his eyes as he recognised how your irises had deepened two shades and smiled giddily “well alright then”

🎞️so whenever he needed something or someone to release his frustrations on all he had to do was stroke your cheek and call you “my good girl” and you were pretty much tearing his clothes off.

🎞️and even sometimes when he’s upset he uses it to tell you just how much he appreciates you. When times are particularly hard and when he just can’t cope with situations; he’d let you hold and cradle him and rock him back and forth while silent tears sunk down his face “you’re so good to me” he’d mumble over and over again in a sleepy voice until he’d fallen asleep in your arms and you’d manoeuvred him into a comfortable position as his arms tightened around you.

Aberama🌞

🌞oh god this man is insatiable.

🌞defo calls you his ‘good girl’ and doesn’t give a fuck who hears it.

🌞likes to shelter you from everything in this horrible world, thinks it’s his job to protect and shadow you from anything. You were just a dainty young thing with no clue, someone had to step up and he decided he was the man for the job.

🌞just loved to take good care of you so those for eyes stayed innocent and undamaged. Bare and pure unlike his that were darkened and locked with such an intricately pessimistic past

🌞one day Thomas Shelby decided to pay a visit to the camp and Aberama had beckoned you over and you did as you were told, he motioned for you to lean closer as you approached him. “Need you to stay out of the way for a while sweetheart, can you do that for me, is that alright? Just until he goes?” He asks with sweet eyes. You smile and nod at him “good girl, off you go” and you were off into the woods to pick some berries for a recipe you had an idea for.

🌞eventually he’d come looking for you, find you deep into a bush trying to reach a berry that you’d just had to have but couldn’t quite get too. He’d stayed back for a while, leant against a tree while he admired you. Until he’d felt the masculine desire to aid his lady. Coming behind you and placing his hands on your waist as he leant to grab the berry for you. You’d gasped but turned to see him, smiling brightly at him. “Thank you” “anything for you” he replied, pecking your lips gently.

🌞”always willing to help my special girl” he says “can always count on you can’t I?” And the grin turns into a gaping expression, wide and heavy eyes looking at him and he’d decided he had to have you right then and there.

🌞he’d hiked the skirt of your dress up to your waist and told you how much he appreciated you as you screwed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

🌞then he’d carried your worn out, sleeping figure bridal-style back to camp with your basket selection of berries resting in his arm as he looked down at you lovingly.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

[theshelbyclan]

Hello 😊

I’ve been gone for a bit, BUT I am curious to see what is still left of the Peaky fandom and who’s in it and where to find the action. I’m just really out of the loop. SO, reblog if you’re (still) in this fandom, let me know if I should follow you or anyone else, or message me with whatever news you’d like!

As always, all my love,

Thura ❤️

[cheekypeakyblinder]

𝕋𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕪'𝕤 𝕝𝕖𝕗𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕

Do you see?

If shits going down.

Arthur is on Tommy's left side and John's on his right side?

Every goddamn time

[jovialbirdballoon]

Holding onto them for dear life. He was once a loving husband and a father. As much as I disliked him in later seasons for treating Lizzie the way he did, a part of me forgives him because he has always fulfilled his responsibilities towards his family. The Shelby family and Lizzie never had a father figure who provided and protected them. Tommy did that for all of them. He went too far at times but that was due to his war trauma, he worked like a soldier and executed his plans without caution. But he was the father figure they all needed and he knew it. That is why he said Everyone needs me. Sadly Grace was the only one he needed, he could be himself and not the “patriarch Tommy” he was around everyone else.

[djnart]

hehe

i love her a lot, she means a lot ☹️

her name is peaky btw! she likes to play around of course, shes sneaky and got me peeking around for her haha, and i like that spelling instead of peeky 😭

i saw that video on tt where it went like, "and when the vet handed me back his ashes he was just as small as the day i got him." i cried and and GAHH

[xbalanque-br]

Miss the boss...

[sassman7]

Portrait Practice

Phenomenal character

„ Athuuuur , Athuuuurrr)

[lovebitesimagines]

Delicate- Chapter One

I’ve never imagined how I would fall in love. Strange, I know. Most girls my age have already experienced the thrill of finding their sweethearts, with some having sampled a few of Camdens’ most eligible Bachelors, before settling for The One. Me? No. I’m twenty-five years old and kept under lock and key in my ivory tower. The difference is, no Prince Charming will ever be brave enough to attempt a rescue. That is asking for trouble. I might as well be handing them a shovel to dig their own grave. My father has often threatened to put a bullet in the skull of any man who dared steal a glance in my direction. I wouldn’t doubt that he would act upon his threats. After all, he is the most notorious gangster in Camden town. Lucky me.

 Being the only daughter of Alfie Solomons sure does come with its challenges. Don’t get me wrong, there are the odd perks. I can’t deny that I enjoy the luxury of having a vast selection of dresses at my fingertips, but what is the point if I can’t even wear them anywhere? It’s almost as if I have a wardrobe filled to the brim to appease the shadows on my wall. Not many know of my existence, only a select, well trusted few. I spend my days confined within the grounds of the Solomon manor, and even then, that still comes with its restrictions. Do not enter this room, do not enter that room, don’t even think about stepping into the front grounds. God forbid one of the mere mortals spot me, and ignite a spark of gossip so fierce, that it sets the whole of Camden alight. So, this is where I have spent the majority of my life, locked inside the cages of the prison my father has created. A prison risen from the ashes of his own insecurity and fear over loosing me, like he did my mother.

 “Any tea today dear?” Louisa, my housemaid and in some ways my only friend, asked. She is, I presume, in her early fifties, with hair tilting on the edge of grey with peaks of her previous red strands still woven through. I’ve known Louisa since the moment I was born and have gained comfort from her soft Scottish accent on more than one occasion. She had chosen not to have any family of her own, stating that me and my father where the only family she’d ever need. She bustled into my room, expertly balancing a tray laden with a teapot, cups and a selection of cakes. I felt my mouth water slightly at the sight, hopping down from my seat at the windowsill.

 “I wouldn’t say no to a cup” I responded, a small smile playing upon my lips, as I made my way over to her. “And is that a lemon drizzle cake I see before me?”

 “Indeed, it is. I thought you would enjoy a sample” she laughed, placing the tray down upon my dresser. The China clinked gently upon the impact, Louisa reaching forward for the tea pot.

 “One may presume that this is some sort of deliciously cruel distraction technique” I supressed a laugh. Louisa paused briefly, only for a short moment, before beginning to pour the tea, the amber liquid splashing into the cup. I felt my heart stutter, as I struggled to subdue the excitement that gradually sprang in the pits of my stomach. “Louisa. Is it a busy day in Casa del Solomons?”. I attempted to make my voice appear humorous, injecting some form of jokefulness into my words, but even I could hear that my tone fell flat.

 “You know I have no insight into your fathers’ doings Adina” Louisa sighed as she spoke, placing two sugar cubes into the tea- just as I liked it. She picked up a spoon, absent mindedly stirring it as she continued. “However, I have heard there may be some important visitors arriving today. I’ve been given strict instructions to ensure you stay on the upper floor”.

 “I know, I know. Stay upstairs Adina, or people will see you. God forbid people see me Louisa” I muttered, as she gently pushed the tea into my hands. I took a small sip, enjoying the warmth as it slipped down my throat. A sad smile formed upon Louisas’ lips, as she awkwardly brushed down her apron.

 “I know child. I know” she placed a hand upon my arm as she spoke, her brown eyes looking into mine. I could see the sadness sketched upon the corners of her eyes, settling into the grooves. “Please listen to me today. Try not to give an old woman a heart attack before her time”. She let her hand fall to her side, her eyes giving a quick scan across my room, not that there was anything for her to sort. I had the usual pile of books placed precariously upon my bedside table, a dreamers’ perfect escape. And I was the best kind of dreamer. “I’ll be back up later to collect your tea things and take you down for supper”. Louisa turned her back to me, quickly making her escape. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to be stuck up here too, if I could help it.

 I exhaled, picking up a slice of the lemon drizzle cake she had left. On any normal day- if you could call my mundane existence normal- it would have brought me joy. However, knowing that the World still moved on around me and I continued to be detained, no amount of my favourite sweet treat could subdue the despondency I felt. Holding both my cup and slice of cake, I made my way back over to my seat on the windowsill. Apart from reading, this was my favourite way to pass the time. One of my fathers’ many Golden Rules, was to not set foot in the front grounds. Yet he never said I couldn’t look.

 With my back pressed against the side of the window frame, I took another sip of my tea, my eyes scanning the outside. I had to admit, that it was impressive. Trees lined the driveway up to my house, casting shadows across the grounds. My father took pride in the flowers the gardeners grew, a scatter of rainbows across the cobbled stones. It was beautiful, but there was only so much beauty his money could buy. It was a rare day of sunshine in Camden, after a few days of rain, and my room was slowly becoming uncomfortably hot.  I placed my cup of tea on the ledge beside me, before prising open my window a touch, allowing a welcoming cool breeze to enter my room.

 I heard the commotion, before I saw it. The dull roar of an engine, the crunch of the cobbled stones as wheels drove over them. A black car moved into my line of sight, before coming to a standstill near the front entrance of my home. My fathers’ workers hustled and bustled below my window, ensuring that the illusion of perfection was maintained. These visitors must be important.

 I pressed my face closer against the windowpane, feeling the warmth of the glass against my forehead. I was desperate to get at least a glimpse of these visitors, these who had been deemed significant enough to receive an invite here. My fathers’ right hand man, Ollie, rushed to open the door to the vehicle. He was mere moments too late, before the door swung open, making him stumble slightly to the side.

 I watched as three men began to exit the car, one after the other. They were dressed in a similar fashion, as if they had agreed upon a uniform prior to arriving. I could see a peak of three-piece suits hidden underneath heavy overcoats. Their dark laced boots moved almost noiselessly against the cobbled stones, almost like they even brewed fear in the small slabs underneath their feat. Their uniform was topped off with newsboy caps, which cast small shadows against their faces, cruelly obscuring me from fully being able to identify these three strangers. Yet I could sense the darkness that shrouded the trio, who at this moment where being led in by Ollie, seemingly having recovered from his brief social faux-pax. They all appeared to be deep in conversation, although I could not quite decipher the words they spoke, their Birmingham accents floating up to my window with low murmurs.

 The third man began to trail behind, before pausing for a brief moment, halting just on the edge of my eyeline. I watched as he scanned his surroundings, almost as if a hunter would scan for his pray, his expression partially shadowed by the peak of his cap. I placed my fingertips upon the windowpane, as if I subconsciously desired to touch him. Who was he? I watched in anticipation as his eyes slowly moved up the building, before settling upon mine. A breath hitched in my throat, as our eyes met, a smirk springing upon his lips.

 Stillness enveloped me.

 His eyes where the shade of blue that drew you in under false pretences, the kind that lulled you into a flawed sense of calmness. Yet even from the distance that settled uneasily between us, I could sense the storm that brewed beneath his guarded expression, and I just wanted to dance in his rain. I wanted to breathe in all of his secrets and know every inch of the parts he kept cleverly hidden from the world. He lifted his right hand in a gesture of greeting, the smirk growing in prominence, before he made his way inside.

 Electricity coursed through my veins, as I stood up, ignoring the clatter of the crockery that fell to the floor as I stumbled slightly in shock. Who was he? I knew in that moment, that I just needed to find out. To hell with the rules and restrictions.

 I made my way towards my bedroom door, pausing in front of my dresser mirror, taking in my reflection. My eyes where glinting with childlike excitement, a rare flush colouring my cheeks and painting my chest with pink blotches. A man like him would never be interested in the girlish caricature I was currently portraying. I frantically brushed down my dress, giving the fabric a quick glance over- thankfully, it appeared that no tea had tainted the light green skirts. My hair was in its normal midday style, the blonde waves beginning to frizz slightly. It would have to do, I thought, attempting to convince myself that I had no interest in speaking to the stranger. I just wanted to get a closer look.

 I carefully lent up against my bedroom door, pressing my ear against the wood. I could hear nothing outside, but I couldn’t make the foolish assumption that it was safe. My hand gripped the cool metal of the door handle, turning it slowly as I pushed against it. I paused briefly, knowing that if anyone was in the corridor, I would soon be frantically hurried back inside my room. Stillness.

 I crept outside.

 I knew that the three strangers would most likely be in my fathers’ office, which was down a small flight of stairs, tucked away in the shadows of the foyer. I was aware of the risks that faced me if I was to continue with this, but I knew that the reward would far outweigh it. I needed to know who he was.

 I moved down the corridor, ensuring that I stayed close within the shadows. I muttered a silent thank you to my father, and his penchant for enjoying the darkest of finest things, which unbeknownst to him, provided me with many a hiding space. Maroon drapes were suspended against the walls, softly smothering the light which came through the few open windows. Dust particles danced in the rare streams of light which had escaped through the fabric, disturbed at me moving through their space.

 I made my way to the top of the staircase, the wooden floorboards protesting feebly under my weight. I could feel my heartbeat stutter against my ribcage, with each step downwards I made, before I made it onto the bottom floor. I halted at the final step, testing the safety of my surroundings, before creeping towards the direction of my fathers’ office. I was thankful again for my father in that moment, and the incomprehensible fear he instilled in his workers, for there was not a soul in sight.

 I paused at his office door, almost unable to believe that I had made it this far. I was riding on the coattails of luck, not daring to believe that it would soon surely run out. I could hear my fathers’ voice drift out from the small gap between the door and floor, as I brought myself down into a crouch, again pressing my ear against a door. I smiled slightly to myself. I had become quite a dab hand at spying. I listened to the mingling of three voices, as they melted together, each one fighting to gain the upper hand in the conversation.

 Three voices.

 Not four. Unless he was a silent observer, which judging by the glimpse I had procured of him, I very highly doubted it.

 Suddenly, it didn’t feel right to be where I was. I knew in that moment, my luck was slowly running out, slipping out of my fingers like the finest grains of sand. And in the moment, I felt a hand grip my shoulder from behind, I knew my luck had been non-existent in the first place.

 “Are you spying on me and my brothers?”

[kaitlinamberxo]

“I'm guessing you people all decided that the only person who could ever kill Tommy Shelby is Tommy Shelby himself.”

kaitlin's 100 favorite fictional muses — 68/100: Thomas Shelby

[cillianmurphysdimples]

[theshelbyclan]

Merry Christmas, Thura 😊 I know it’s probably not happening and you don’t have the time, but could you maybe just for me, as a small Christmas present, write a few lines about Teddy and the Shelbys during Christmas? 😍😍

Thank you sweet Anon, and I wish you all the best too and a blessed Christmas! Just for you, here’s a small bit (just don’t expect too much of it). This takes place shortly after the war, so Teddy’s like 8 in this.

*****

In the bleak midwinter

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan…

It was the day of Christmas Eve and Tommy stood outside their house at Watery Lane, quietly smoking a cigarette. He looked up at the sky, where thick grey clouds were gathering: snow was coming in. That was all he needed.

The Shelby’s didn’t celebrate Christmas this year and, if he had anything to do with it, they never would again. They’d celebrated before the war, but after the war, there was no Christmas anymore. The fields of Flanders hadn’t allowed it, Small Heath didn’t allow it and most of all, Tommy no longer allowed it.

Christmas was dead. No more hope and no more light. All there was left now, was: in the bleak midwinter.

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone…

Arthur came approaching and Tommy looked up. He knew it before he’d opened his mouth: there was trouble.

“There’s been some trouble at the Garrison, Tom,” Arthur explained, “Couple of boys tried raiding the place, knocked Harry about, broke half the bloody bottles in there too.”

Tommy nodded slowly, “So what is it you want from me, Arthur, eh?”

“What do we do, Tom?”

“You know what to do,” he flicked his cigarette away, “Cut them.”

The oldest Shelby nodded, but the hesitation was written all over his face.

“What is it?” Tommy demanded.

“They’re just kids.”

“Kids who fucked with us.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just…”

“For fuck’s sake, Arthur! Just get on with alright? Just grow a fucking backbone for once and get it done.”

“Alright, Tom, we’ll get it done.”

“I don’t have time for fucking soft sentiment, alright?” Tommy growled.

Snow was falling, snow on snow, snow on snow…

Meanwhile, John was working over the books. He tried to get as much done as he possibly could during the day, before he got really drunk.

He looked out the window and saw some children playing in the snow. He looked for Finn and Teddy amongst them, but couldn’t find them.

One boy threw a snow ball at a factory worker, who then slipped and fell over. He cursed loudly and all the children ran away and laughed. John couldn’t help himself and stifled a laugh too.

But then he remembered the bodies piled up in the snow. And somehow, he could see the blood mixed in with the whiteness in Birmingham too. In seconds, the moment had lost all its purity. Now it was just death and decay, hidden in ice.

He took another swig and continued his numbers.

In the bleak midwinter, long, long ago.

“Church starts at nine.”

Tommy coughed a laugh and looked up at his aunt, but her eyes seemed set.

“Arthur and John are coming too.”

Probably not by choice, Tommy thought. And he added, “I have no business with church, Pol, and nothing to discuss with God.” He practically spit the last word.

Polly shrugged, “I’m sure he has one or two things to say to you. You’re going, end of discussion. Teddy is singing.”

Tommy looked up in surprise, “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“I bribed her. Be there at nine.”

What can I give him, poor as I am?

And so the Shelby’s turned up at the church at nine. Not because they wanted to, but because the holy saint Polly Gray, enforcer of all things fearful, had ordered them to. At least Arthur had brought the bottle with him.

People piled into the church slowly, but they left the front most pews empty for the Shelby’s.

Tommy sighed deeply. He had better things to do. They had business to do and money to make. There was no way he was going back to poverty. There was no way he was going to let them walk all over them again.

Because, when they were in the mud, where was God then?

If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb…

John elbowed Tommy and pointed, big grin on his face. When he followed his gaze, he saw one very pissed off little girl in a white dress, standing off to the side near the altar.

Teddy was not happy, and it showed in every way she held herself. Tommy couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Polly must’ve offered her some money…”

“Better still,” Arthur whispered lowly, “She promised her a horse.”

“She always knew how to bargain,” he said not without pride, “Innocent as she may be, she knows how to get whatever the fuck she wants.”

“Innocent?” John laughed, “She’s about as innocent as a wolf in sheep’s clothes. She changed though, Tommy, after we left.”

“Yes, she did. France fucked her up too, even though she’s never even been away from Small Heath.” Bitterness crept into Thomas’ voice.

He never wanted any of that for her. He wanted her to stay small and sweet forever. But he knew that was gone already.

If I were a wise man, I would do my part…

“Move over,” Ada hissed, as she unceremoniously joined them in the pew. “Now will you look at this, the whole family together at church. What the fuck.” Sometimes it was like Ada was physically incapable of speaking without sarcasm.

“Then why are you here?”

“Teddy’s singing. She hates it, so I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” And when her brothers stared at her reproachfully, she added, “Just doing what any good sister would do.”

They were quiet for a little while, but then Arthur leaned over John and told Tommy, “Tomorrow at 11, we’re meeting with that importer I told you about. Charlie’s yard.”

Tommy nodded.

Arthur opened his mouth to talk, but one slap from Polly made him close it again. “No business at church.”

“Why not, aunt Pol?” Ada challenged, “Looking at the size of those golden statues, they’ve done some pretty good business themselves.”

“Ada…” Polly warned.

“Oh I’m sorry,” she continued in her bored tone of voice, “Isn’t that what Christmas is all about? The rich not giving to the poor, but instead celebrating no longer having to?”

Tommy lowered his head to hide his grin. He never liked to admit it, but he had a soft spot for his sisters. They were smarter then all the men he knew combined and they always, always, had something to say.

Life would be incredibly boring, without his sisters doing their part in making his life hell.

But what can I give him? Give him my heart.

The service finally started and the whole procession of pomp and circumstance started. One by one, the Shelby’s sighed deeply and resigned themselves to the next hour.

But after all of that, Teddy stepped forward. She shuffled around a little, uncomfortable, and pulled on her robe that apparently got stuck behind the altar.

She looked back at Finn, who got roped into being an altar boy, and he nudged her forwards again.

Tommy made eye contact with her and nodded. Teddy sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll bet you a pound she’s going to bolt,” John giggled.

“Shut up,” Tommy replied, “I want to hear her.”

And he actually did. It was strange how all his grumpiness and pessimism seemed to have fallen away. And he looked over to John and Arthur, both sending Teddy reassuring smiles. They looked nothing like the bored bastards they’d been only seconds ago. And even Ada, sarcastic detached Ada, fixed her slouch and leaned forward in anticipation. Maybe this is what Christmas was after all: in the middle of the whole fucking chaos of the world falling down around your ears, dropping everything, because your little sister has to sing. And actually feeling warm about it too.

So Teddy breathed in deeply and started to sing, in perfect pitch and angelic voice:

In the bleak midwinter…

[cheekypeakyblinder]

The Peaky brothers and children are making my ovaries explode

[suzuran777]

Review: Haiiro no Arcadia (Peaky)

It has been a while since I’ve played a new BLVN! And that’s mostly because we usually only get a few of them each year, so I’m happy that we’re getting multiple releases this year. Haiiro no Arcadia is a BLVN made by Peaky, a new visual novel company. When I first saw advertisements for this game I immediately got interested because I really love Mashima Shima’s art. The review will be spoiler free, so if you want to read a little bit about the game before playing it, go ahead!

The story is about protagonist Tamaki, who’s transferred to an all-boys boarding school. This school isn’t just any school and most of the students are children of elites, such as business leaders and managers of big companies. Located on top of a mountain surrounded by nature, it was built with the idea of creating an “ideal” studying environment for the students. Or so they say... After being there for a while, Tamaki notices there’s something strange about the school.

The school doesn’t allow students to have a cellphone or any form of entertainment, and going home, even during summer vacation, is prohibited. This means that the students have to stay there until they graduate (...or until they get kicked out). Tamaki was recommended to go to this school by his uncle, Sekai, who works at the school as a physician. Trusting his advice, Tamaki is excited to start his new life there.

This game has 3 main routes and one secret route I won’t say too much about, each character has a good and a bad end. As usual you can also get a bad end in the common route when you hang out with too many different characters. I’m not sure if there’s a guide yet but it was not super difficult to figure out how to get each ending. The recommended route order is Rio > Seri > Kouichi according to the official account, and I agree that it’s probably the best order to play in.

The first character our protagonist meets is Rio, who’s a second-year student and also in the same class as him. He’s also the student council president. After giving him a short tour of the dorm, they meet again at school the next day. This is where the game introduces the second love interest, a boy with a beautiful face called Seri. Tamaki thinks he’s a bit strange, but because they both like basketball, they get along. One day later while trying to find a classroom to hand in his homework, Tamaki stumbles upon a fight in the school’s garden and attempts to stop them. This is where he meets the third character who has his own route, Kouichi. He’s a third-year student with quite a bad reputation, as it seems like he’s often involved in fights. Other people warn Tamaki to not get too close to him, but Tamaki thinks Kouichi isn’t a bad person and wants to learn more about him.

Seri and Rio don’t really like each other because they have such different personalities, but still... hang out with each other for some reason lol? Even when Tamaki isn't there. Rio’s pretty serious and wants everyone to take their studies seriously, while Seri is carefree and sometimes doesn’t prioritize studying. Luckily for him though, Seri’s pretty smart so even with that attitude he seems to be doing fine. Both of them don't really interact with Kouichi because they're in a different class and don't really have a reason for talking to him, so they're surprised that Tamaki does talk to him.

Like mentioned in the short introduction, after a while Tamaki starts noticing some things about the school that seem weird and unnatural to him. One of the main themes that frequently returns in the story is that students suddenly become violent. According to the teachers, this is because of "stress" and the lack of distraction within the school, but even so, Tamaki wonders why such a thing is so normalized. He tries talking to Sekai about maybe improving the club activities and class schedules, but he isn't sure if he's taken seriously. It seems like nobody else is really concerned about these issues. At first Tamaki tries to ignore it and assumes the teachers are doing their bests, but later he realizes that something is seriously wrong with the school.

But I had a lot of fun playing this game! There wasn't a love interest I disliked. I must say that all of their personalities were... the complete opposite of what I expected, and I can't really mention details without spoiling lol, but it was interesting. It's always fun to play VNs in which you slowly unravel all kinds of secrets. I just wish there was more...!! Maybe they could continue it with a fandisc or drama CDs or something because I think there's definitely potential. Tamaki is such a cute protagonist I love him.

Impressions

Before the game's release, I was curious what kind of genre this game was. Of course it's a school setting game, but after watching the opening it looks like there's some darker themes as well. Without spoiling... I can definitely confirm that's true, though I wouldn't call it a horror game or anything! The bad endings do get really dark, especially Seri's ending kind of shocked me (in a good way because I like bad endings), so I definitely recommend that if you're looking for dark content! Some of the story in the main game gets quite dark as well (noncon scenes, some of the backstories etc.) so if you're sensitive to that, play with caution.

And by the way, according to Peaky's staff during one of the pre-release livestreams, they are currently working on a trial version, so if you're unsure if you want to buy the game or not, I recommend waiting a little bit longer until that's available! Picture below is from Mashima Shima's Twitter account, there's a lot of nice extra art there, so definitely check it out!

Hamashima Shima's account: X

Peaky Official Account: X

[jovialbirdballoon]

This came full circle in a tragic way. So much had changed between them yet so much was still the same. In the end, Tommy could only be the “Provider” not the husband Lizzie wanted.

[djnart]

oh btw i have a cat of my own now! GUYS SHES SO CUTE, i still havent named her :p but anyway heres some pics! yayy! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

she is very majestic (uᴗu) i got her in a different state while on a road trip lol, cat distribution system works! oh n colors reminds me of pearl 😄 past few days been obsessed with this scrunkly baby 😊 she wants my attention 24/7 lol, currently shes sleeping on my neck 😭 she is tiny 😿