#the peakys receive a letter

[runnning-outof-time]

A Call For Help… | Tommy Shelby (written through letters)

Request: no - part of @raincoffeeandfandoms ‘s Peaky letter writing event

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC (written in form of letters)

Summary: Tommy tries to find a way to better an old flame’s current situation while also hoping to make her aware of the fact that things have changed since they last saw each other.

Warnings: mentions of abuse, starvation and isolation, mentions of an arranged marriage

Word Count: 1413

A/N: this is unlike anything I’ve ever written before…thank you Flor for creating this super unique event, and Aimee ( @dandelionprints ) for writing the first letter - it was so fun to respond to…I hope it’s ok that I took a bit of an angsty route, and I hope that it makes sense. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: the woman mentioned at the end of the second letter is not Grace (or at least I did not imagine it to be as I was writing). She doesn’t have a name though, so it could be her if you want.

— letter writtten by @dandelionprints —

Dear Tommy,

I'm sorry if it comes as a surprise that I'm writing you this letter, I'll completely understand if you decide to read no further than this part, throw it into a fire and scatter the ashes as if ridding yourself of me for good.

I fear you were not told the truth about why I went away. I'm sure my father told you that I'd had a change of heart, that I could never truly love someone who called themselves a 'Peaky Blinder'. Oh how wrong that could be.

The truth is that it was not my choice to be parted from you, in fact I kicked and screamed with all my might to stay but it did no good. I was still manhandled into a car and driven off to Scotland to wed a man that I cannot stand, a man who knows nothing of loyalty or love. A man who is nothing like you.

My father told me that it had been agreed between himself and my now husband's father that I were to be married into their family, all to settle a debt that my father created by drinking and gambling his way through his wages. If I married this man then his father would rid mine of his debts and make sure that my parents would live a comfortable life.

Why they wanted me of all people, I don't know. I have no money to give them, only services that I'm forced to do against my will, otherwise a beating is in order. Sometimes I take the beating, I'd rather that than to do the things they want me to. All I do know is that I wish it could be different, wish that I could have stayed back in Birmingham with you...

Anyway, I'm sorry. You probably don't need to know about that and also probably don't care. It's been two years since you last heard from me so I completely understand if you want nothing to do with me. You might even have a new love now, I wouldn't blame you if you do.

They stopped me from sending letters to anyone but my parents, I have to be chaperoned everywhere I go.

I've lied and said I don't feel well today and the man whose job it is to make sure I don't do anything I shouldn't has left me in my room to sleep though I fear he will be back soon. I knew I had to use the time wisely and write to the person I've wanted to speak to since the moment I was dragged from my house by the arms all that time ago. You.

I'm planning an escape soon, I can't take much more of this life. The beatings, the withholding of food to the point that my clothes hang off my frame, the feeling that there is not a soul around that I can turn to for comfort.

I don't know where I will go but I won't be able to leave this God forsaken place for at least another month. If you write a letter in response to this then please find a way to get it here without having to go past other people in this house first, I'll never get the chance to read it if it does.

As I said before, I'll understand if you have a new love or if you just want nothing to do with me, time has passed now and feelings change. I'll leave it up to you to decide what to do.

Yours, always,

Aimee

— letter written by myself —

Aimee,

I'm sorry.

I haven't a clue of how long your letter has sat on my desk. A lengthy trip to America took me away from Birmingham for some time and I've just finally gotten back to my office now.

It's been too long, Aimee. Since I've seen you; since I've heard from you. And the reason behind it makes sense now, but it was a struggle to figure it out in the interim.

I hate to know what has happened to you; what the reason behind the silence was. I would have fought against it had I known what type of situation you'd be taken into. I wish this letter would have found me sooner. Maybe if it had, things could have been resolved before they got to their current point.

I looked for you around Small Heath, and when it turned up empty; I widened the search to the whole of Birmingham. The decision to write this letter came when those efforts returned unsuccessful. I write it with the hope that you have not since left this address, and that you will receive it when I send it out.

Help will come, Aimee. I cannot give all of the details here for fear of interception, but know that I will do all that I can in order to improve your situation.

The man that your father struck a deal with is easily influenced, as I am sure you might have already figured out. I have spoken to him and have managed to get him to switch some of his operations around. He has hired some of my men onto his payroll, and they will allow us to trade correspondence in the future; if you feel inclined to, that is. When the time comes, you will be able to leave, and if things go according to how I have planned them, that time will arrive sooner than later.

As for the man you were made to marry...the things he does are worse than anything I have ever carried out. How your parents cannot see that perplexes me and makes me wonder if there was more than the debt that needed to be paid back. I could have helped, Aimee. I could have made your father's situation disappear; I could have changed your entire family's life for the better. How can he be wary of me but yet sell his daughter to a man who so clearly resembles the devil in all of his doings? I never understood how he conducted things; how he could be so scornful at times, but I withstood that to continue to be with you.

I was told that you moved away. That you had dreams bigger than Small Heath and you were finally going to work towards achieving them. I should have recognized the dullness in your mother's eyes when she told me these things, but I was not one to over-analyze what was put forth as the truth then. I understood what it was, and is, like to hold dreams that others think are too big to become reality. I've worked hard to make the Shelby Company Limited into what it is today, and I guess a part of myself was content with thinking that you were off wherever it was that you went, also working hard to make your dreams a reality. Had I known what your actual reality was…

So much has changed over the years we’ve been apart from each other, but I cannot deny the fact that reading your words allowed me to escape back to a time when things were easier. When there wasn’t much else other than you and I. I often think of those times; of you in the summer, sitting under a blue sky with not a care in the world. You always felt much better outside, and thinking of those times makes me feel better…like the weight of the world is lifted off of my shoulders, even if only for a moment.

But like I said, things have changed since then. I’ve found someone whom I love. She has become my wife and has given me a son. They ground me in a way that you used to.

I couldn’t wait for you, Aimee. I had to allow myself to continue on with my life while thinking that you were bettering yours. I thought I’d never hear from you again. I needed to move on.

I want to help you though, and things will get better. They just may not get better in the way that you’d hoped upon writing your letter.

I hope to hear from you again,

Tommy

Tagged: @zablife @call-sign-shark @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @cljordan-imperium @there-goes-thefighter

MASTERLIST

[shelbydelrey]

Mr. Shelby and Jay Gatsby

summary: Bri recommends a book for Tommy and he muses over it.

warnings: Tommy being angsty AF

A/N: Written for the The Peakys Receive a Letter Event hosted by @raincoffeeandfandoms. The first letter was written by @there-goes-thefighter and the reply was written by me. I'm sorry if Tommy came off as overtly dramatic 🤭 I don't know why but i think he would make a fuss about it 🤷🏾‍♀️ Enjoy!

Dear Tommy,

This is Bri writing to you. I’ve been wanting to tell you about a book I’ve read before. It’s called The Great Gatsby, and it was written by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It’s a beautiful tale of love, loneliness, and emotion. The main character, Jay Gatsby, is described through the eyes of his neighbor, Nick Carraway. Gatsby is known for throwing parties at his glorious mansion, in hopes that someday his love Daisy will come. He believes in a green light that shines across the lake from the end of Daisy’s dock. The green light represented his hopes and dreams for the future.

The chilling passage at the end of the book goes like this:

“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter – to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther….And one fine morning–

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

I apologize for spoiling the ending for you, but it’s one of my favorite parts of the book, as Nick is describing the hope that Gatsby still held on to. His hope never faded. He was also a believer in going back and repeating the past. It was his love for Daisy that shined through, there. See, he loved Daisy in a way he knew her husband never could. This story almost feels like you, seeking hope that is brushing against your fingertips. You’re similar to Gatsby, as you both have glorious mansions that are often filled, but never whole. In both stories, there’s a woman that magnetizes you, changes you, and envelopes you. I bet you’d get along well if you met him.

I love the story because Gatsby is such an intriguing man. His desperate attempts to fill a void in his life despite having every material thing one could want shows how hard and passionately he loved. The material things didn’t matter to him, Daisy did. His love for her superseded anything and everything on earth. Gatsby wanted no one else, as no one else would ever compare to Daisy. He loved her and only her.

I hope someday you pick up the book and let it speak to you. I hope you’re captivated by the story as much as I was. I hope you believe in the green light too.

All my love,

Bri

Dear Bri, 

I apologize for not replying to you sooner. I've read the letter as soon as it came to my possession but the words 'hope' and 'void' hit me in the stomach with the force of ten men and like a coward, i recoiled inside myself and threw your epistle aside, hoping that being out of my sight it would be out of my heart too. I failed miserably, as you may have guessed already. 

Your descriptions of Jay Gatsby haunted and pestered me in the most inappropriate times and every time that i was in London for business, i found myself heading to the library Ada used to work at, asking for the book. I could purchase it of course, as i did later on, but the lack of commitment that borrowing it brought was more appealing than to have it on my shelf, taunting me every time i remembered its existence.  

The librarians gave me negatives each time, explaining that since it was a rather new book, they needed permission to acquire it, and each time i left with an odd mixture of relief and guilt. Relief for stalling for a little while what felt inevitable and guilt for creating a fuss over something you took the care to tell me about. 

But i can't lie, Bri. The picture you painted of Mr. Gatsby felt like a mirror and i was afraid to face that hopeful fool. Afraid of what awaits us at the end of his story. 

I do trust your judgement though and I apologize again for taking too long to remember this fact. That’s why the book is resting by my side as I write to you, waiting to be opened for the first time. 

There’s a detail that you provided that gives me hope (here’s that word again): Gatsby isn’t the one who narrates it. I can’t help but to think that if he were the one telling his own story he wouldn’t be as intriguing or passionate. His dedication to Daisy seems like a desperate man’s attempt to cling onto life because everything else inside him got corroded. There’s nothing left except a pathetic core. But having an outsider, his neighbour Nick Carraway, as the storyteller, serves to redeem Gatsby out of his own foolishness. It’s comforting to imagine that a legacy of misery can be erased with rose coloured glasses. 

These are only my impressions, of course, and I'm sure they’ll be put to the test and prove me that I'm wrong.  

One thing that I don’t doubt is the fact that we would get along. Melancholic men have a tendency to gravitate towards one another. 

I’ll write back to you once I'm finished with book, Bri and let you know what I thought about it. 

Yours Truly, 

Tommy Shelby 

taglist: @runnning-outof-time @call-sign-shark @look-at-the-soul @cljordan-imperium @dandelionprints @zablife

[cljordan-imperium]

Arthur & Kate (Art & Kay)

Peakys Write A Letter

SUMMARY: While at war, Arthur receives a letter from his wife Kate. He had been home weeks before for a visit and she has not heard from him since, but she has some news to tell him, along with that she misses him dearly. Her letter gives him the fire he needs, and his letter indicates such in return. A/N = I received the amazing letter from @runnning-outof-time from her OC Katherine Shelby (Kate). My apologies for the great delay in responding but I was having trouble channeling Arthur...then one of my OC's took control and said that he identified with Arthur...so I hope that he is right and this is an adequate response. (I'm nervous y'all) I hope I did your wonderful letter justice!

TW = BLOOD/WAR/DEATH

(@runnning-outof-time)

Dearest Arthur,

I hope all is well with you. I hate that I have not heard from you in such a long while, but I understand that these sorts of things will happen when you're out on the front.

Being able to see you last month was like a dream come true. The girls are still reeling from it, and Lottie insists that you need to come home every other week now. I tried to tell her that it doesn't work like that, but she doesn't listen. She won't let me read another bedtime story because 'I don't do it like daddy does'.

Elsie wanted me to tell you that she lost a tooth, her very first tooth, and that she didn't even cry when it fell out. Of course, we couldn't find said tooth because it fell out when she was playing in the garden with Mr. Whiskers. By the way, we have a cat now...Mr. Whiskers kept showing up at our doorstep, so the girls convinced me to take him in. He's a very sweet addition to our household, one that I hope you will take to warmly when you return.

The girls are growing so much each day, so much so that I'm afraid you may not recognize them when you return. And they ask for you at the hardest times; at the times where I also am missing you. They wonder why you can't come back like you did, and why they can't talk to you. I tried to explain it, but I'm afraid that it goes over their heads. Children shouldn't have to understand war. They shouldn't have to worry if their family members will come back or not. It's been so hard to try to keep things positive around them, but with how bleak things have been looking, I'm afraid that my positivity may not last for much longer. Oh Arthur, you don’t know how hard it is for me to keep up the front that all is fine in front of them while I worry for your safety every second of every day.

Anyway, I won't fill the majority of this letter with my sad thoughts. Let me share some good news instead. Polly has managed to take total control of the shop, and she's running things in a way that has allowed us to continue making profits even though many men are out on the frontlines. She actually wanted me to ask you: how would you feel if she and I continued with our idea of hosting a special for women on certain race days? I know Tommy has his ideas of how the family business should be run, but you're the oldest and therefore have the power to make this decision. I feel as though this would continue to help Small Heath as a whole.

The nights are much quieter now with you and the boys being gone. Although at times quieter is better, I do miss the nights where we'd all stay up and share stories, and the nights we'd go out and camp under the stars. Oh, how much simpler those times were compared to the life we're living now.

I don't have much room left on the page, so I'll wrap this up with a few more, quick things. First, Elsie and Lottie have asked me to enclose some of their 'most favorite' drawings in this letter for you. It excites me to think that they're taking after you with their artistic talents. Second, I'm thinking of changing my hairstyle up...you may not even recognize me when you come home again. Lastly, along with Mr. Whiskers (who will not be leaving no matter what), how would you feel about us raising chickens?

I hope to hear from you soon, Art. Please be safe.

Sending all of my love until I can see you again,

Yours Always,

Kate Shelby

**************************************************

(me)

My Dearest and Darling Kay,

How the pictures from the children did make me long to feel the warmth of your arms and to hear the sound of their laughter as they played in the yard.  Such comforts are far from where they boys and I are though.  While we are presently safe, the nights are cold and the sounds are never as melodious as your voice or the rhymes the children make to entertain themselves.  

Do not fret, for this shall end and the life we once knew will return.  I can feel it in my bones as surely as I know that Tommy will always find trouble no matter where he shall be and Polly will be the strongest person any of us know.  As I said Tommy makes trouble and Polly is strong, but she is also smart.  If she is making a profit, I see no reason to change things when we return.  My darling, I am proud of you, so proud my heart swells that you two have done so well. I cannot wait to stand beside you and back you. I hope you can feel my love surround you as you work.  Tell Polly that I’ll deal with Tommy if he has something to say, and we all know the bastard will.

Of course Elsie could find her tooth.  The Tooth Fairie already captured it and brought it over to me here on the frontlines.  She wanted me to have something so special since I can’t be there to see it.  And she wanted me to send this coin for it, it was too heavy for her to carry all the way back over here from France.  You see, during war, sometimes the Tooth Fairie has to make special trips and have couriers.  But she can’t tell anyone, it’s a secret. The Tooth Faerie is a spy for the British to bring me home sooner.

I am sorry I have not written sooner, since my visit my heart has ached so.  I have seen the you and the girls when my eyes have closed, your voices seeming to call to me in my dreams, but I awake afresh in this hell around me.  The mud and blood causing my thoughts to be dark and I did not want to burden your bright and beautiful soul with the thoughts of this tortured man that loves you more than my own life.  I would start to put thoughts to paper and I could not put upon you the darkness I have felt, I could not dim you in that way, my bright and shining Northern Star that guides me through this dark time as we fight. I will come home to you, we can raise cats and chickens, goat and cows if you want.  I do not care how you do your hair, if you even do it at all.  As long as that smile that you had when I was last home, that one that graced your angelic face when I surprised you, that one of utter adoration; if that one is upon your lips, then I do not care if the rest of the Earth falls to ruin, Kay, as long as there is you.  

So you tell those girls that John, Tommy, and I will be home soon.  You get with Penny and you make sure you are all ready.  Because we will win this war, Kay, we will.  We have to.  We’ve lost too many to give up and come home like dogs with our tails between our legs.  I have to believe this to keep the darkness that haunts my heart at bay.  We will come home and when we do we will have a party like Small Heath has never seen, we can stay up till dawn and not give a fuck who cares.  I will come home to you Kay, if I have to kill the devil himself to do it.

So, you do up that hair how you want.  You buy a nice dress.  And you know I am coming.

Art

@runnning-outof-time @call-sign-shark @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @raincoffeeandfandoms @there-goes-thefighter @dandelionprints @zablife

[call-sign-shark]

Under the Willow Tree ||Alfie Solomons x OC (letters)

Summary: While he was roaming through paper works in his office, Alfie Solomons finds an unopened letter by chance. A letter written by his wife when he was fighting for his life at the hospital after his violent encounter with Thomas Shelby. Alfie still decides to write a reply... Unfortunately, he loses it before he can hand it to his Mrs. Solomons.

Notes: Letters exchange written for @raincoffeeandfandoms' event "The Peaky Receives Letters". The first letter was written by Flor (@raincoffeeandfandoms) herself, and Alfie's answer is mine. Hope I did a good job at portraying your sweet Alfie!

My dearest love, Alfie.

It's been two whole days since Thomas shot you. You're lying here in bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses who don't know if you'll recover or not. I haven't slept in 48 hours and I don't know if I will be able to again, not while you are there. 

I write this letter in the hope that I will be able to tell you all this in person when you wake up. I have spoken to you as you lie there, but I can't tell if you can hear me or not. And the anguish inside me, it needs to come out. I've told myself that I have to be strong that I have to be fighting by your side, like we always did, but I don't always have the strength. And I'm so tired.

I decided, instead, to remember nice moments we spent together. There's a memory I have of us when we were 17, maybe you've already forgotten about it. You were already in charge of the bakery where you started working at 14 and you were starting to get interested in having your own "bakery". You always called the business you really wanted to get involved in that way, I guess it was easier to call it that, than calling it an illegal distillery. I always thought it was funny, even today.

We had gone on a picnic day in the middle of spring. We had brought apples and several of those little cakes you used to bake. We had planned everything and the day couldn't have been more perfect. I remember the sun was shining and I remember the tree we sat under. It was a willow tree whose branches touched the stream in front of which we were sitting. 

I think the day was beautiful, at least is how I remember it. There were even ducks that we also fed. We hadn't been able to have a date like that in a long time because we were both working and really needed some time alone. Do you remember? We could barely see each other in the evenings. And sometimes not even that.

At first, it was beautiful. The food and you was all I wanted. But the things started to go wrong when we got distracted and the ants decided they wanted your pies, too. You were so angry with them! But we couldn't do nothing because, of course, they outnumbered us. So we moved from there, because it was a war we couldn't win. There was another tree, so we went under that one. But it happened that we never saw the beehive. The bees were not happy with us. The way we run! We abandoned the basket and the remaining food there. Probably the ducks ate the rest. Our date next to the stream was terrible. I remember you were mad, because you couldn't give me the perfect date you wanted. But to me, it was perfect. I laughed a lot after that.

We have shared so many things like this, Al, and I know we have to keep making memories because we can't end up like this. I can't let the one person I loved my whole life, my first kiss, my first love, to die because of a bullet from Thomas Shelby. I know you'll survive.

I'll leave the letter in a drawer, hoping I'll never have to write another one like this one. 

I hear voices, what's happening? They're coming from the room where you are. It sounds like your voice. Is it possible? Or is the lack of sleep making me hallucinate? I'll go and see. My heart is beating so fast…

Yours, always.

Rosie.

Ahuvi sheli,

As I was looking for some tedious paperwork, I found your letter by chance, hidden under the mess on my desk. I know this terrible event is far behind us now and that you are peacefully sleeping on the couch, snuggling against Cyril by the fire. Still, I can’t resolve myself to let this heartbreaking letter without any answer. You’ve opened your heart by writing this, so let me ink mine on the back of this same paper.

When I was laying in a pit of darkness, trapped in the flesh prison of my own body, I felt Death’s presence creeping in the shadow, waiting for me to stop fighting so that It could take me away from you. Fear paralyzing me, fatigue eating up my remaining strength, I was convinced I would die here without being able to kiss your honey lips goodbye… My heart ached at this sole thought. But then, I heard your wonderful and enchanting voice talking to me in this dull hospital room, and suddenly the thick darkness was not there anymore. I felt the sweet caress of sun rays warming up my skin and I smelled the intoxicating fragrances of your floral perfume — the last one I gifted you for our anniversary. And there I was, near the mighty willow tree we would sit by when we were 17. Even though I was alone, I could still hear you talking to me from a faraway distance. Each word, each sigh, each sob… I held onto them, finding strength in your love until I could finally reopen my eyes.

You always compliment how tough I am — both physically and mentally. Whether I am carrying huge bags of flour or handling the Shelby and Sabini’s situations.  I usually answer that the strongest of us was you. After all, you were the one who kept fighting after the awful years these Evert bastards had made you undergo. I would gladly tell you that I would piss on Lawrence’s grave but since it is a letter I guess I should remain polite. Yet, despite how strong you are, I am deeply sorry for worrying you and involuntarily making you suffer after that cunt Tommy Shelby shot my fucking face. Living with the fact I caused your tears to run down your sweet face will be the bane of my existence, but I promise to make amend for all the sorrow I caused you.

Rosie, my beloved flower, what is the willow tree without your elegant frame? What are the birds’ whistles without the symphony of your adorable laugh? What is Alfie Solomons without Rose? Fucking nothing. And since I’ve risen back from the dead to pull you in my arms, let me write down our latest wonderful moment that happened yesterday: You were in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the tip of your pen trapped between your gorgeous lips. The more you flipped the pages, the more you were getting angry because you could not decipher my admittedly awful handwriting. I tried to make you laugh but you were not in the mood, and at some point, you thought I was so annoying that you threw a bit of flour at me without being aware of the consequences… We looked at each other silently for a few seconds, and then the same thought crossed our minds. We rushed to the nearest bag of flour and proceeded to turn our kitchen into a battlefield of white powder. You laughed! Oh, you laughed so much that diamond tears ran down your pinkish cheeks. 

You laughed, my little Rose, and I fell in love with you again for the hundredth time.

Don’t fear the voices you might hear, they are just the murmurs of my soul whispering to yours how much I love you. Also, Fuck Tommy and his little bitchass bullets — this prick can’t even aim— for nothing will take me away from you. 

Forever yours, mind, body, and soul,

Alfie. 

Tag list:

@runnning-outof-time

@shelbydelrey

@there-goes-thefighter

@cljordan-imperium

@dandelionprints

@zablife

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@look-at-the-soul

[motherofdogs1010]

Little Darling I (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, stripper!reader, eventual smut, swearing, drinking, mentions of prostitution/ sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Series Masterlist

A new club in Peaky Blinder territory was something that always raised Tommy's attention; usually, he would pay no mind when they first pop up, but it seemed like this club was different.

The Scarlet Letter was what it was called, Tommy had been sitting in his office at Shelby Company Ltd. when John and Arthur had come in to report about this club. Apparently, the club was showcasing a unique type of dance with its female employees, one that involved the use of a pole?

"A bloody pole?" Tommy had scoffed at the mention. "How the bloody hell are these women dancing with a pole?"

"Have to go check it out to see", Arthur had replied with a cheeky grin. "From what we've heard, this club had been making money. No ties to any gangs either."

It was a sight to see inside The Scarlet Letter, women adorned in expensive lingerie, their hair adorned in pinned curls and lips painted a deep red, but what was interesting was they work masks that concealed half their face. Literal poles were scattered throughout the place, a barmaid and bartender maned two bars on either side of the place, both busy; sofas and booth seats surrounded some of the poles, paritions in certain parts of the building.

He noticed a few heavy built men guarding certain areas, Tommy realizing they were hired help for the women.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby", a voice boomed. "What a surprise to be seeing the Peaky Blinders in my establishment!"

Y/N ran the red lipstick over her lips, smacking her lips together to get the the color saturated onto her lips. The eyelash extensions she had glued on for the evening tying the whole look together as she made sure to careful wipe away any excess around her mouth just as the boss came in.

"Ladies", she boomed, "We got some big customers outside. Make sure to put on your best performances!"

Cherry Johnson was their boss, she was a woman of a tall stature with a loud, booming voice that commanded respect. But she was a good boss, always fair to them and making sure they were safe, she only had them dance or perform lap dances, never forcing them to go any further.

Cherry came over to her as Y/N was about to fix the mask on, "Y/N, do you mind taking on a particular client here?"

"What client?" she asked as she adjusted the mask and tied the ribbon to secure it.

She saw Cherry grin in the mirror, "Thomas Shelby. Told him I'd send him only the best of my girls."

Everyone had heard of Thomas Shelby, of the Peaky Blinders so she looked at Cherry with a little frown, her lips curled a little.

"He's an obvious big tipper, darling", Cherry said, Y/N sighed.

"Fine", Y/N said as she adjusted her corset. "But he better know the rules."

Cherry grinned even bigger if that was even possible.

Y/N waited behind the curtain, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as she waited for her arrival to be announced. They switched dancers every hour or so, changing sets and outfits, working the floor and private dances. She noticed that her two other co-workers, Babydoll and Lovely, were up next with her on the big stage.

"Hey there, Little Darling", Lovely said with a grin. "Heard the boss gave you some big fish to entertain."

"I just hope he isn't stingy with the tips", Y/N said as she heard Cherry begin to announce them.

"Look alive, ladies", Babydoll teased, "it's showtime."

Tommy leaned back in the plush velvet chair that was in front of the large stage, Arthur and John on either side of him as he inspected the area. Cherry, the boss, had told him that she was sending one of her best girls to dance for them, the crowd favorite, but Cherry had told him the rules and the biggest one was 'no touching'.

"Next up we got Lovely, Babydoll and your favorite... Little Darling!" Cherry announced to the eager crowd.

Tommy put his cigarette between his lips as he noticed the anticipation in John and Arthur, the eagerness in their bodies; Tommy wondered where Esme thought John was as she came out, a intricate corset and stockings piece with a garter on one plush thigh adorned her body. Pinned curls framed her masked face with those blood red, plump lips and sultry, bedroom lidded eyes that were just calling to him.

He didn't even notice his brothers be captivated by her or the other two dancers as she approached the pole, a sensual dance performed in front of him as she moved in a way he had never witnessed before. He noticed other patrons throwing... pounds? at them, the women sensually grabbing the bills and stuffing them into the attire.

"C'mon Tommy", John said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a little. "Let loose a little already."

His brothers were throwing notes onto the stage, Little Darling making a show of grabbing them and stuffing them into the corset with a wink. She was like a seductress on the stage, moving with the music, performing acrobatic moves on the pole, it amazed him so as he light another cigarette and placed it in his mouth, he reached into his inner coat pocket, grabbing some bills into his hand.

Little Darling gave him a seductive smile, moving from the pole and getting to her knees, begin to crawl towards him till she reached the end of the stage where he was; she tilted her head a little before she leaned forward, making a show of grabbing his hand that held the bills and guiding it to stuffing the bills into the front of her corset where her tits were.

She winked at him before blowing him a kiss.

Y/N made a good amount of money from her dancing on the stage, counting the pounds that were thrown before passing it to Cherry to take her part.

"Good show out there, N/N", Cherry said, handing her back the money she earned. "You got a private dance with a Mr. Shelby."

Y/N nodded, rolling her shoulders back before making sure her makeup was still good before heading to one of the private rooms.

Walking into one of the private rooms, she saw him there; the dimly light room only seemed to work in the man's favor, adding to the feeling of danger that already existed in the room. He had his cap off, it resting on one of the side tables in the room as he blew out a smoke of nicotine from his lips.

"Cherry tells me you're called Little Darling", Tommy said as she closed the door behind her.

"I am", she answered as she slowly walked towards them.

"Quite the performance you put on."

She moved to straddle his lap, draping her arms his shoulders with a lazy grin on her face.

"I could see you enjoyed it, very much."

She stared into his piercing blue eyes, she could see the lust swirling in his eyes as she begun to move her hips.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Tell Me Lies

Tommy Shelby X Wife Reader

Request for @luvlesavyy

Request: What if Thomas found himself in a sticky situation? What if he had to be compelled to pretend that he had betrayed his beloved wife, whom he holds dearly in love with, in order to protect her and their child? What if Tommy received life threatening letters from his gems? He lies to his wife, tells her he cheated on her, all this to keep them away from the harm he can bring to their lives... How would this story end? Would she forgive him after he found the letters, threatening her and her firstborn's lives, in Tommy's office drawer?

(They spent a week apart, and she had constant back pain, Polly said she was pregnant. Now what? Pregnant, with the love of her life, who "cheated" on her. Wonder what she's going to do about it? Will you tell Tommy when you discover the letters?).

Hey love,

Sorry this took so long but I didn't forget about you. I've never been the kind for the silent anger type of thing. Changed a few of the details around but I hope you enjoy this <3 Thanks for being so wonderful!

Warnings: pregnancy, cheating, screaming, passing out, hitting, biting, extreme anger & the usual peaky themes

Tommy was used to the bitter taste of whiskey doing absolutely nothing to calm his nerves. He stares at the telephone wishing that he had just imagined the phone call he had received. He pulled a red package of documents out of the top drawer of his dresser. He had finally been advised to open it. Now that he knows what is being asked of him he wants nothing more than to throw it in the fireplace. 

For the first time, he really felt that he was flying too close to the sun. Everything he had started was for his siblings and aunt, now every day was for his wife and child. 

How could he turn his back on all of them, on you, even for a second? What could he say to you that would keep you away? If he told you the truth, then Polly and Esme would be dragged into it and all of a sudden it would be a family trip to Austria. His stomach gave a lurch and he put his head in his hands. 

He had to lie to you. 

He would have to tell you something horrible so you would let go of him for the week-long mission. Then he could come crawling back with the papers as evidence. Sure, he would spend the rest of his life on the couch in his study, but at least you would be safe, at least you would still be his. 

He could try to refuse. 

How many wives and children would die if he did? Would you want to be married to that man? Looking at the papers in the file it was his own family on the chopping block if he refused.

“Fuck” He swore slamming his hands against his desk. 

______________________________________________________________

“What’s wrong.” You said looking at him with sharp eyes. You could tell just by the way he held himself that he had gone and done something stupid. 

“I have to go away for a bit.” His eyes were focused on you in a way that made it hard to look away. 

“Why?” 

“I can’t tell you.” He said firmly and you could tell your husband wanted you to accept this answer. 

“I’m your wife. Spit it out, Tommy.” You said crossing your arms. You hadn't been in this position since you were dating. Once married in you were at every meeting, involved in every dollar, and every conflict. Okay, you weren't directly involved in every conflict but you helped out in areas that weren't covered with gunfire. 

“Look, something's come up and I need to see to it, I really don't want to -” 

“I don’t care what you want Thomas. Do what’s right and tell me.” The anxiety was starting to bubble up and turn into rage the way it always did. You hated when people lied to you. 

“I got a phone call last night. Someone I may have had an entanglement with has had a child. She’s saying it’s mine.” The words fell between you and you knew something was off. You assumed he was just hiding the juicy details of his affair. Now a child is out there. Whose child would he father? His wife’s or his mistress? 

You stood there feeling a familiar hysteria build up inside you. This time you didn't have to push it down. Charlie was with Esme and the cousins for the night. You could make him pay. 

The feeling started to radiate into your limbs and you were freed from your initial shock. You picked up the crystal vase on the side table beside the couch. You threw it at him. 

Head on where he was sitting at his desk.  He narrowly missed it. His eyes flared with shock. You picked up every single thing you could reach and threw it at him. He stood up and charged towards you and you welcomed it. 

You wanted him to hit you first. You wanted blood. It was your turn to cause trouble. He tried to grab your arms and you smacked his chest as hard as you could. He got his arms around you and you bit into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Hope his mistress likes that scar. 

You screamed at him. You told him every single bad thing you could think of. You told him he was the reason the family was cursed. That his mother killed herself to get away from him. You screamed your own curse on his life. 

You screamed and screamed until you cried. A deep sob that unraveled years of strength. Everything you had done for this family, just to be replaced as Lizzie once said you would be. 

This was beyond anger and betrayal. This was beyond human. You felt your mind become otherworldly and your vision narrowed in. The blackened edges of your vision collided and you weren't screaming anymore. You had dissolved into nothingness and it was blissful. 

______________________________________________

You woke up and he was gone. The family was in complete chaos over the news. Arthur was actually crying on and off, apologizing for his stupid little brother. He and John held the business together under Polly’s direction. 

Polly eventually sat you down and told you the news once everyone had come to say they were sorry and how they would be helping. It was like being a widow at a funeral. 

A pregnant widow. 

“You're joking.” You took in a sharp breath. “And that is not very funny at a time like this.” Your voice was high and she grabbed your face with two hands. 

“It’s not a joke. You’ll be fine.” Her eyes were so intense it put you at ease. 

Esme reassured you and decided to stay with you at Arrow House for a while. The kids were used to being lumped together and they had no problem looking after themselves for the most part. Charlie was 6 so he didn't have a hard time keeping up with his cousins. 

The two of you rot in bed and she did what she could to keep your blood pressure from rising. You could see it in her eyes though, she was pissed as hell and you were sure she would make Tommy feel it too when the time came. 

If he ever came back. Your heart gave a painful clench and while you were alone in the bath there was no one to judge you for crying. It was a soft moment you allowed yourself. It felt shameful, it felt like letting him win. It was stupid but you felt like you were just a girl getting your heart broken again. This time it felt final. Your heart would not survive this. 

But your family loved you. That was obvious from the cooked meals and even Arthur was around helping with the kids at bedtime. You could hear him and John reenacting all the monsters they fought when they had lived on the boat as kids. You even caught yourself laughing a few times at the wild stories.

It was almost a week since that night and you were starting to feel just as betrayed but you had your head back on your shoulders. In the middle of the night, you decided to see if this woman had written him any letters. You weren't sure why but you were obsessed with finding out who this woman was. Why could she steal him away from you so easily when you had done nothing but give him everything?

You went into his study and shut and locked the door. While you turned the latch you wondered where they had sex? Was it here? The office? The backseat of his car? The rage started to bubble up again and a hand went to your stomach. You took some deep breaths thinking about what a divorce would mean. 

His - scratch that, your family would still love you. You would get to pick a new house and decorate it however you wanted. Fill it full of books and do nothing other than look after Charlie and read. You took another big breath and moved over to his desk. 

You pulled open the drawers in his desk and started to pick through everything. You knocked on the bottom of the first drawer when you saw that the woodwork didn't quite line up. You remembered from all your spy novels that it could have a false bottom. You grabbed a letter opener and started to pry it open. 

It came loose with a pop and you pulled out lots of extra copies of passports and documentation for your family. A cold shudder ran through you. You picked up your fake passport to see that he had named you, Arbella Shelby, maiden name Sutherland. You let out a snort as that was a character in a Highlander romance novel you adored. Why would he remember something so stupid when he was plowing another woman the whole time.

You reached into the hidden compartment a little further and pulled out a red envelope. It was made with very expensive card stock. You opened it and read through the document carefully. 

He had been sent away to aid in the assassination of an English spy hiding in Austria.

Your brain hurt and you took another few breaths and kept reading. 

It only got worse. Any outside interference would result in death. Failure to complete the mission would result in his death. Failure to accept the assignment and the government will move forward with prosecuting the remaining members of the Shelby family for acts against the crown. You read down the list of names and ran a finger over your name, following it was the rest of the family. You also noticed that Esme and John’s older kids were on the list. 

He needed to leave without us going to find him. 

He lied to protect you. 

It got hard to breathe and you had to try and remain calm. You let out a weird sort of choking sound then threw up into a plant pot. Polly found you moments later. 

“Breathe.” You let her grip your shoulders and tried to follow her breathing but your vision went dark again and you were out. 

_______________________________________________

When you woke up Polly was pacing the room and shouting at someone in a hushed voice. 

“You should have told us.” She hissed. “What if something had happened to you.” 

“Churchill would have sent the news. Then she would know what had happened.” Tommy answered in a low and steady voice. He sounded exhausted. 

“What if you had failed! They would have shipped us off to jail again.” She snapped. “She almost lost the baby over this mess Thomas.” 

“Only if I had refused the job,” Tommy answered and he sounded so tired. You opened your eyes and watched them stare each other down. 

“Promise me it won't happen again.” You mumbled. 

“I wish I could.” He closed his eyes and looked positively exhausted. 

“Let me talk to Churchill.” Your whisper still conveying your anger. Tommy gave you a big smile. You finally registered how battered his face was. 

“I have papers saying you lot won't be used as collateral again.” He held his whiskey glass up to his cheek. 

“Tommy, if i thought that the family and our children would get killed I would manage to stay away.” You said knowing that tears were starting to spill down your cheeks. Polly took in a breath and you knew she was going to lay into him properly now that you were awake. 

“I’m sorry.” He said simply. His eyes opened and locked on yours. You knew he meant it. Shock crossed Polly’s face.

“I didn't think you knew those words.” She said waving her hand in the air. 

“Okay.” You said not wanting to be apart for a moment longer. There was ringing in your ears and you knew he was sorry. You knew he wouldn't do it again. Tommy was a lot of things, but he never hurt you the same way twice. He always learned from his mistakes. 

You started taking some deep breaths trying to get your head to stop throbbing. Esme came through with a mug of tea and Tommy put his drink down to help you into an upright position. 

“Tea will help with the headache.” She said her eyes darting to Tommy. 

“Esme?” He said calmly.

“What.” She answered looking skeptical. 

“Thanks for looking after her.” He held her gaze and she nodded at him. The rest of the family piled in and discussed the events of the past week. The tea brought the ringing in your ears and the throbbing in your head down to a normal level. 

Charlie came through and climbed up on his father's lap. Tommy’s arm fit around him and he continued talking about what needed to happen moving forward when dealing with Mosley. 

You had hope for his cause. You rested in his arms and found your way back to him out of the darkness that had been threatening to swallow you.

[reiwanwan]

Rei’s Valentine’s day Special

Hi everyone! So for valentine’s day…I’ve been thinking of starting my own game that everyone can join in. There’s 3 games you can play and the deadline is on the 10th of February

Here are the games you get to pick from and you can only play 1 game

💌 Peaky Love Letters

Rules: Request a love letter from a character, Ladies included. Pick either a love letter, a confession letter, or even a breakup note. You may also send a Gif or a picture of the character along with your request. Only one character is allowed and also please include a name to refer to you as!.

💕 Matchmaker, matchmaker

Rules: Tell me a few personality traits, and I’ll match you with a Peaky Blinders character who would fall for you (or maybe just tolerate you). You may include your name along with your introduction.

💬 Peaky Pickup lines

Rules: Choose to send a pickup line to a mystery character and see how they react or! choose to receive a pickup line—but you won’t know which character is flirting with you until you get your response!

You may send an ask or message me to play, preferably not an anon! Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you all will enjoy playing!

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 61: I Bet It Stings

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

I don’t like this. Do not. Like. This. Being escorted by my broers, sure. Being escorted by the Peaky Blinders, ok��. But having to travel with a stranger?

“How long is the drive to London?” Mr. Dixon asks in his Southern drawl as we exit the barge. 

And I thought I stuck out here. A Georgian distillery man in a cream suit catches even more attention. Vader certainly has a fair share of business associates.

“Please be patient, Mr. Dixon. A car is on its way to meet us.” I walk up to the ticket office and signal to the man inside. “Hello. I am Verena Steenstra, foreign representative for Thomas Shelby and Shelby Company Limited. Is there any transport scheduled for us?”

His eyes light up at the mention of the company. “Of course! Right this way.”

We’re led down the dock and into a parking lot, where a shiny Fiat 501 is waiting.

“Woo-wee! This Mr. Shelby sure does know how to spend his money,” Dixon comments as he inspects the car. “What a beauty.”

“Mrs. Thorne sent the car, Ms. Steentra,” the driver informs me as he places our bags in the trunk. “She said to tell you that Mr. Shelby is currently doing business in London.”

A perfect warning. It’s also a perfect way to escape my escort. Thanks, Ada.

The panic of the market crash is already spreading. I see it on everyone’s faces as we’re driven through London’s crowded streets. The Houses of Parliament stand proudly ahead. The Fiat parks near the front and I head straight to the nearest phone booth.

“Ada? I just arrived in London. Any news?”

I hear her grunt. “Business as fucking usual. God, I hate him so much right now! I hope you didn’t come back just for him.”

“You know that’s not true,” I mutter sourly. “Sometimes I hate him, sometimes I love him. There are even times when I want to shoot him. Are you alright?”

Ada sighs. “Do not say a word. I’m pregnant.” She’s-?! “Don’t say a word! It’s bad enough hearing Linda and Lizzie complain about their husbands. I don’t need someone breathing down my own neck.”

So Thomas did marry her. Is that what it takes? Get knocked up and Thomas Shelby marries you. I swear sometimes I want to slap him straight across his hoogdravend face-

The face I spot across the courtyard. Thomas. Wearing a sharp navy suit and his signature hat. Quite the hoity-toity job for a man who breeds horses.

“We’ll talk more when I get to Birmingham," I mutter before hanging up.

I lead Dixon towards the gangster, trying to keep my breathing steady. You are not here for him. You are here to earn money. You are here to help your family.

“Well, well, well. Thomas Shelby, MP,” I mock brashly.

Thomas, who still has his back turned, freezes. He whips around and his look of shocked recognition is priceless.

“Verena,” he breathes out. “You’re here…”

Yes, I still exist. Yes, I did pick out a dazzling blue dress to show off my best features. No, I do not regret showing up unannounced to him.

“And I brought business with me,” I finish for him and gesture to my escort. “Thomas, this is Mr. Dixon, from Georgia. He owns a distillery operation in Tennessee.”

Thomas looks between us. Then down at my hand. One might say he’s examining for my own wedding band.

“Great. Why is he here?” Thomas asks bluntly.

I wave a finger at him. “Be nice. He’s here because he lost stocks, the same as you, and wants to do a sale. And…”

“And to escort this lovely lady,” Dixon states and boldly places a hand on my waist. “Her daddy asked me to. A true beaute if I ever did see one. How fetching, indeed. Too bad you’re a Yankee.”

Thomas stares the man down with an icy glare. “Hilarious. May we please proceed, Mr. Dixon?”

“Before you both start, please tell me why you have summoned Liam?” I demand lightly. “Before I left he mentioned receiving a letter from you. Obviously you two stayed in touch.”

Thomas stays quiet for a second, measuring his words. “Your brother is a hard worker. He secretly offered his services for the time you are here so he can keep you safe.”

Keep me safe? That practically means keeping an eye on me! Why on Earth would Liam desire to work with the Peaky Blinders? The job is cut-throat, brutal, adrenaline-inducing- Who am I kidding? He’s a prime candidate for it. I know it’s his decision but I do not want my broer being caught up with Thomas more than he has to!

“Very well. I will leave you men to talk.” I back away crossly and start walking back to the car.

Mr. Dixon gets a confused look. “Ms. Steenstra, I’m supposed-”

“You were supposed to escort me from New York to England on orders of my vader. You have fulfilled that obligation, therefore your services to me are no longer required.”

I am going to Birmingham where the real action is. Not all these suits meeting in dark rooms. I am going to bring my information to Arthur, the head chairman, and continue on my merry way-

“That is all?”

The hidden upset in Thomas’ voice leaves me feeling both cocky and… shameful. It pains me to treat him like this but I am not lowering my defenses again.

“I did not come here for you, Mr. Shelby,” I reply, still facing away. “I am here because this new depression has twisted my hand and I am here to earn money.” He has no response to that. “Now you know what it feels like to face the other end of disappointment.”

I bet it stings.

“Is this about Lizzie?” Thomas asks when I start walking again.

“You brought it up, not me. Good evening.”

“Oi! Verena-!” He’s trying to follow me.

I pivot and hold up a hand to stop him. “Stay away, Thomas. I’d rather not repeat the same routine. You need help, I support your ridiculous idea, you botch it up and push me aside, and I walk away.” I slide into the car and give him one last look of warning. “Let’s skip to the last part, shall we? I’m going to see Ada and get some real business done.”

Thud!

I shut the door in his confused face and watch as he gets smaller and smaller behind me. Remember, Thomas, you made me into this.

The instant the Fiat drops me off at Ada’s house she comes running from the front door to give me a hug.

“You’re back!” The Shelby zuster cheers. “Did you see Tommy yet?”

Her subtle curiosity makes me give her an annoyed smirk. “Left a Southern gentleman to talk with him. Now that people in America hear my family’s partnered with you lot they all want in on the action.”

She tilts her head. “Maybe the Southern man fancies you.”

“He’s here for business, same as I.” That closes the topic. “What about you? I guess you missed sex after all.”

Ada smiles and pats her stomach as we make our way inside. “Polly predicts it’s a girl. Says I should name her Elizabeth.”

“And who’s the lucky father?” I grunt as I heave my trunk into the parlor.

“His name is Ben Younger. A black man.”

“Another blessing from God,” I declare warmly and ignore her last comment. “You should be very happy. He sounds like a very charming man if he has won over Ada Thorne’s heart. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Ada smiles gratefully, then turns to a different subject. “I don’t know what plans you have yet. I’m meeting Tommy in a few days to discuss some things with a comrade.”

He’s still dancing with socialism? Wonderful. Something else we can disagree on.

“Speaking of, Tommy wanted to know why you’re giving him the silent treatment.”

Is that what he thinks I’m doing? If anything, the treatment I’m giving him is his own. And I will be anything but silent about it.

“I am not.”

Ada rolls her eyes and pours some fresh tea. “Come off it, Verena. You haven’t been too chatty with him since you last left.”

“Thomas used to appreciate me for listening. Now he won’t even say thank-you. So he’s going to get his own words spat into his face.”

“Yes, well, Tommy’s a stubborn twat.” She gives me a pointed glance. “Yet you still wear his necklace.”

Drat. She noticed. I finger the silver pendant around my neck, unable to think of a reasonable rebuttal. I can’t help it. I tried to dispose of the thoughtful gift that reminds me of him. Either it’s nostalgia or pathetic pity on myself, but I cannot bring myself to throw Thomas’ cross away.

“Can you please just say something so he’ll stop nagging me about when you’ll start talking again?”

Something about how she says that sounds practiced. Anticipated. Not like something Ada would normally go along with.

I pick up the teacup and inhale the sweet scent. “He told you to ask me, didn’t he?”

“Yes! He called me before you got here! And I’m tired of being a bloody messenger!” Ada outbursts. “So tomorrow you are going to Arrow House and talking to him properly!”

My jaw drops. “I don’t-!”

“Shut it.” Ada picks up a briefcase and sets it on the table. “Here. These are documents from some contacts in Boston. Go have him sign them and talk to him before he nags my ear off. No more squabbling. This is an order on behalf of the company. End of discussion.”

Sneaky Ada. How does she expect Thomas and I to chat and make up? And for me to risk opening up again? He’s like a drug. The longer I know I can’t have him, the more I want him. The devil of Birmingham.

I could leave straight to Germany now. Leave before I get in too deep again. Thomas might not like it. But my precious time should be used for making money and avoiding more heartbreak. Then again, Polly wouldn’t approve if I go without seeing her. I could give in and let them hate me… No. No matter how hard I try to convince myself, I cannot let him go. 

The only thing I can do is my job.

@meadows5

[lady-of-the-english]

Tommy and Grace and Marriage Part 4

As his key antagonist of season 2, Campbell demonstrates how he thinks Grace is Tommy's weaknesses - a pain that he can keep poking at to distract him and make him off-kilter in their exchanges. It's a tactic Tommy uses himself, so he understands perfectly how effective it is.

It is only this danger that forces Tommy to consider truly forgetting Grace and leaving her behind burning her letter just as the Garrison, where they fell in love, burns due to Campbell's bombing.

Most seasons of Peaky Blinders begin with visually showing the audience Tommy's status. The opening of season 2 lets us clearly understand how financially better off the Shelbys are. To do this, we have both transformed locations and new locations.

With their financial success, the need to diversify their portfolio, and hide money, Tommy buys his family homes, especially the women that he loves, Polly, Ada, and their sons - a clear parallel to how the season ends with Grace pregnant with their son and the next opens with their wedding.

Tommy tells Polly he bought her a house to bring her family home to. Polly is haunted by the loss of Anna and Michael, and Tommy's depth of empathy comes from shared experience as he dedicates himself to finding what happened to them and if he can return them home. Like Polly, Tommy also longs for the family he dreamed of having with Grace but feeling that Grace is out of reach (married and living an ocean away), he'll give Polly and Ada what he fanatasied about providing Grace - all the warmth, comfort, security, and love a home typically symbolizes.

While season 1 showed his flashbacks of the war, season 2's are mostly centered around Grace. He tells Arthur, who is spinning out of control due to his own PTSD, to "shut the door" on the war, like he did. However, Tommy sees his own hypocrisy; neither the war nor Grace are gone from his thoughts. He just hides it better, and even that is cracking, especially in relation to Grace as both Polly and Campbell have pointed out their knowledge of how much he still loves her.

At the reopening of the Garrison, Tommy leaves his family to celebrate and retreats to the renovated snug to brood over Grace's letter that he's been carrying around in his pocket since he received it as a perfect representation of his internal struggle of wanting to hold onto her but feeling like he must let her go.

With the Garrison physically changed, he possibly thinks that moving on from her is possible for the first time. The reminders of her physical presence have been literally burned away, and with that, maybe he won't be so haunted by the memories and how they almost had everything they wanted together. With the changes, maybe he won't look for her at the bar or in the doorway anymore.

He tries to follow his own advice to Arthur to "shut the door" on his feelings and he burns her letter without reading it. The burning is juxtaposed with their love scene as he holds it in front of himself a moment to gather his courage before lighting the match and then holds the match for another moment before taking it to the letter.

The first visualization of Grace this season - outside of the season 1 recap at the start of 2x01 - is of Tommy remembering their love scene and especially the most intimate moments of it. Tommy remembers their gentle kisses, how they reached for each other, him burying his face in her neck, wanting to be as close to her as possible.

He tries to burn these memories away and once again turns to sex as an escape but in a new way. He knows the controlled, dispassionate sex with Lizzie doesn't help. So this time, he parties (just as Arthur does for the rest of the season with similar failed results). The next scene is Tommy awake from his threesome which is the antithesis of the scene he remembers with Grace. He is awake, sitting up and disconnected from his partners. He is unhappy and lacking any of the peace and intimacy of his memories. Recognizing that it didn't help at all, he gets out of bed and starts working - the only escape that works at least temporarily.

This realization and the true stakes of his assassination assignment from Campbell help Tommy accept and embrace the fact that his feelings for Grace will never go away.

Tommy, in quick succession in 2x4, is told he'll receive no help from the police or intelligence agency, realizes that there are spies in Campbell's plans, and how tight the security is on his target.

And with this, Tommy starts to "prepare" and "get his affairs in order" for failure and his death and, in doing so, accepts his feelings for Grace openly, which is intertwined with commentary on marriage and family. While he buys Polly and Ada each a home to raise their sons in, Tommy recognizes his own lack of immediate family. Johnny Dogs tells Tommy, "I hate to see you not even married yet," and he has Ada sign a trust to leave everything behind to John and Ada's kids as he acknowledges that "I don't have any children."

As Tommy gives away what he has and prepares to do that fully, he buys one thing for himself - Grace's Secret. While this race horse is interwoven in his business plans (gaining him access to the owners' enclosure), it is also a deeply personal choice. Tommy's love of horses was well established in the first season and is tied to the beginning of Tommy and Grace's relationship. It is after the death of his other horse that he asks Grace to sing for him.

Charlie connects the horse to the idea of Tommy returning to and embracing his true self. While Tommy repeatedly tells the family that cars are the future of the Shelby Company (both legitimate and illegitimate), Charlie asks him to think about when was the last time he rode a horse - when did he last choose something he truly loved and wanted? Tommy walks away without answering but the literal next shot is of a picture of Grace.

And thus, he goes off to buy this horse, creating a concrete connection to Grace. He tells Polly it's a good "investment" and equates it to the family homes he just bought them. While he plans to buy the horse for $1,000, as May drives up the auction, he doubles it as he tells Charlie, "I'm having that horse" who he later affectionately calls "my girl." A horse he then tells May, as he hires her to train the horse for Epsom Derby, "will be called Grace's Secret."

In the first episode of the season, both Tommy and Polly avoided speaking Grace's name when talking explicitly about her. With this choice, Tommy will confront her name continuously. There would be a decent amount of paperwork for Tommy to read and sign to officially register, train, and sign up the horse for Epsom. With each piece of paper, meeting, and visit to May, he anchors Grace into his thoughts and the thoughts of his family.

I would have loved for a scene for his brothers, Ada, or Polly to reckon with his naming and what it reveals - and doesn't. They'd probably think the "secret" is Grace's undercover work and betraying Tommy. But as we are again shown in this episode that they are still in contact two years later, it is clear that Grace's secret is Tommy himself and the love they still share.

Through this, Tommy accepts the reality of their feelings for each other and that they'll never go away even if he'd never see her again. Even in starting an affair with May, it is centered around shared grief rather than affection for each other.

May recognizes that she is a "small diversion" to Tommy, just as he is for her. As they consider him staying the night, she cries over her own lost husband, admitting, "I put all his photos in a draw and locked it. As if that was going to make a difference," just as Tommy burning Grace's letter made no difference for him. He enters this exchange, knowing neither is the person they really want to be with.

And once he has the opportunity, he chooses Grace. By the end of the episode, he returns to the office to find a telegram from Grace, letting him know she's returned to England for the first time since she left.

While he previously burned her letter, he now reads it and willingly picks up the phone to be the one to call and reach out to her. It is presented with the same purposefulness as any choice Tommy makes. Just as he waited a moment to burn the letter, he thinks for a moment if he is willing to open himself open to Grace fully, to be truly vulnerable and have an honest emotional connection with someone else. With possibly limited time left, he aims to spend it with the person he truly loves. He is no longer hiding and repressing his feelings but embracing openly what and who he truly wants.

He reaches out to Grace and while they don't get to speak on this phone call (as Grace's husband answers the phone), we are set up perfectly for their reunion in 2x05 - a parallel to how much 1x05 was a turning point in their relationship.

And more on that in Part 5!

[prettybillycore]

FOR TOMMY | Letter #7 Tread lightly, Newt

Pairing(s): Thomas Shelby x Original Character

Universe: Peaky Blinders / Fantastic Beasts

Summary: Veela and Seer- a powerful combination of traits for one person to have. Edith Lillian Scamander falls in love with a young Thomas Shelby while working in a nurse’s ward during WWI. Will her feelings be requited, or will she be doomed to pine over the man of her dreams for eternity hopelessly?

Rating: Teen

Warnings: none

Read on AO3 or Scroll down to read it right here on Tumblr below the cut!

You know that I would not write you if the situation was not dire. I know that you and Edith have your differences, but I also know you care about her safety and well-being. I have just received a concerning letter in the mail from her. She has officially ended her engagement with Lucretius. We both saw this coming, but I thought she would have come to one of us for help. Instead, she states in her letter that she will not be telling us where she is going. She stated that she will contact me when she feels safe to do so. Something doesn’t feel right about this. I am very worried for her, Theseus. Where could she possibly go that she would be safe from the wrath of a Malfoy? Other than with one of us of course. I doubt she would have gone to you instead of me, but I hope she’s safe in your living room drinking that tea she always likes. If she is not with you, I fear the worst. Would you be able to do something at the ministry to help locate her? I cannot bear to lose her, Theseus. I am going to start looking for her myself; I will check with everyone she was friendly with in school if I have to. If you hear anything of her whereabouts, tell me immediately. Do not approach her by yourself; she’s always been quite reactive toward you and she’s probably scared beyond belief right now.

Tread lightly,

Newt

[shelbydelrey]

Etheline Hill of Casterly Rock

"A DOG RAISED AMONG LIONS"

MASTERLIST

cw: canon typical violence (both GOT and Peaky), misogyny, incest, infidelity, animal abuse, death, murder, sexual content, HEAVY ANGST.

A/N: I adapted Tommy's name into Tommen Selby in order to fit the Westeros medieval aesthetic. And no, Selby isn't a typo: it is the root name, in Norse culture, of the modern Shelby name.

BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION

Born: 213 AC (one of the Free Cities)

Died: 239 AC (Casterly Rock)

POLITICAL INFORMATION

House(s): -

Affiliation(s): House Lannister; House Selby

TITLE(s)

Lady of Casterly Rock (posthumous)

PERSONAL INFORMATION

Also known as: Ethel

Culture: Westermen

Religion: Faith of The Seven

Father: Robert Lannister II

Mother: Unknown

Sibling(s): Heinrich Lannister; Daisy Lannister

Spouse: Heinrich Lannister

Lover(s): May Dondarrion (unconfirmed); Tommen Selby

Issue: -

HISTORY

Etheline’s place of birth is cited to be one of the Free Cities and her mother’s name remains unknown. Under the bastard surname “Hill” of the Westerlands, she was raised in Casterly Rock and received a formal education. Maester Dallar, who served the Lannisters from Lord Benam Lannister’s rule until the House’s extinction, noted that “while she is a child of no particular beauty and no particular intelligence, she compensates with dedication”. Heinrike, Robert Lannister’s wife, wrote to her sister about the girl’s tutoring: “I do not know why i’m being punished. I gave him two children - one of them a son above all - and yet Robert treats the creature to a higher prestige than Daisy”.

Witnesses recall that during childhood, Daisy and Etheline never displayed affection towards one another. Heinrich, however, often played pranks on his half-sister¹. There is no confirmation on whether or not their incestuous relationship started in these early days.

Robert Lannister II died at 220 AC thirty-seventh year, rendering Heinrich the sole male heir of House Lannister. In a letter to Lady May of House Dondarrion, Etheline briefly spoke about her father: “There is a daydream i allow myself to indulge: around the age of six, my father kneels before me and calls me Rhaenys. His eyes are kind while he speaks to me and full of a joy that can only be conjured through imagination. I dip inside this fantasy to pretend that i was once loved enough to be named after the First Queen of Westeros.”

The Hill girl’s stay at Casterly Rock was questioned after her father’s passing but once asked about it Lord Robert replied: “She was smeared into this world already. By trying to remove the stain, it will only further ruin the fabric.”

At her sixteenth year, she started to frequent tournaments and, although unnatural, she aided her grandfather in fiscal duties.

At 233 AC, Lady May Dondarrion requested the company of Daisy Lannister at Blackhaven. The invitation was accepted but Etheline was sent in her sister’s place². No offence was recorded on Lady Dondarrion’s part. Servants reported that the two women spent an awful lot of time behind closed doors; either in the Mistress chambers or the castle’s library and these rumours coupled with a specific passage in one of their correspondence (in which Hill pleads: “Please, give myself back to me. You’ve uncovered a truth about myself that i would rather remain concealed.”) paved the route of speculation of the possibility of an affair between the two.

At 235 AC, Lord Tommen Selby arrived in Casterly Rock. In correspondence to Lady Dondarrion, she laid out what is believed to be her first impressions of the Warden of The North: “He seeks gold after sacking the North” and “He is as tall as the shortest Lannister woman”³. She accompanied him to Lannisport on multiple occasions and even followed his delegation to the vassal House Payne. Story goes that at a Casterly Rock’s market, the Lord of Winterfell helped the illegitimate daughter of House Lannister rescue a dog from a number of kids that found pleasure in stoning the animal. Tommen would later report: “Despite being a sizable beast, the dog was skin and bones by the time we found him, with rashes all over his body and at least one broken paw. The sight of her red dress drove the little miscreants away, although two of them ran off with screams of ‘here comes the Lady of Casterly Rock’, but even so he wouldn’t let us close, showing his teeth and barking at every step we took. To him we were no different than his assailants. My suggestion of feeding him a piece of bread with a few drops of sedative didn’t please her at first but with the lack of alternatives she was forced to agree; i could tell she couldn’t bear to see the dog licking his own wounds. We had to wait until my squire came back from the Rock with a vial and i had my own reservations as to whether or not the animal would accept the offer of food but alas a dog is a dog and soon he succumbed to the medicine. I carried him to spare her the misery; at the mercy of a heavy sleep, the creature resembled a corpse. On our way back to the fortress, she shed silent tears and to this day the wails trapped in her chest haunt my sleep.”

It is uncertain if the liaison between Lord Tommen and Etheline started prior to his engagement to her half-sister⁴ but historians speculate, based on the following letter, that she seduced the man out of jealousy of her sister:

“It’s been two weeks since your departure and i’m already tracing the marks of your teeth whenever your absence makes itself physical. You can gloat; it is the sweetest defeat i’ve ever surrendered myself to. You can even have another of my sordid secrets: i’ve came on my fingers, repeatedly, thinking only of your warm mouth on my thigh.  

Are you sure no Stark blood runs in your veins? Because your canines do resemble a wolf’s and its punctures are the ones taking the longest to heal. I dread the moment the purple coloration will fade into yellow, i dread that the imprints of your mouth will fade with it and that any sign you’ve ever been here will disappear. I can only hope that the memory is as equally scarred on my soul as it is on my body. Which of us is madder? Me, for requesting your bite or you, for obliging to such a grotesque request?

Have you bedded my sister? By the time this letter reaches [the caravan], the two of you will still be a good few miles away from Winterfell and not yet married but i do wonder if curiosity or duty overtook the both of you. Despite her despise for your low birth, i can picture Daisy warming your bed in defiance - to you and Robert -, as if to say “i won’t treat myself as a victim”. Will you learn to love this fire that resides inside her? Or will it melt the ice of your newly conquered castle until all the Selbys drown?

Don’t fret, however. She will never hate you like i do. She will never make love to you like i do.”

They carried on their affair through correspondence⁵ until 238 AC, the year of Lord Robert’s death.

Heinrich, heir of House Lannister and half-brother of Etheline, was at the Stormlands under the ward of Lord Alfred Baratheon in the events of his passing, rendering his mother Heinrike the only official member of House Lannister presiding over Casterly Rock. This vulnerability was appropriated by House Greyjoy that set up an attack at Lannisport. Heinrike summoned House Arryn, her place of birth, and Etheline requested the aid of Lord Eustace Tyrell⁶, who attended her call. The uprising was quickly vanquished with remarks such as these by General Jorrel of the Westerland army: “Lady Heinrike displayed courage and provided the strength necessary to march on against the Greyjoys. But it was Etheline who carried the calm of unwavering certainty that there would be no defeat; a Lannister trait that was still fresh and was mourned at the mouths of the soldiers.” Heinrich returned with his great-aunt Lenora Baratheon, the twin sister of Lord Robert Lannister I. His first act as Lord of House Lannister was to behead Lord Kollion Greyjoy under orders of King Aegon Targaryen V. Etheline was by his side during the punishment.

From early childhood, Elizabeth Baratheon had been promised to Heinrich. Nevertheless, in late 238 AC, the man sought Septon Carn in Payne territory to secretly unite him in marriage with his half-sister, Etheline Hill. Blind, half-deaf and an octogenarian, the scholar conducted the ceremony unaware of the incestuous nature of the relationship. However, a month later the engagement with House Baratheon wasn’t broken and the union of Elizabeth and Heinrich took place in Casterly Rock as scheduled. In early 239 AC, the unlawful marriage's witness, who remains anonymous, denounced the deed. House Baratheon declared war on the Lannisters and demanded Heinrich's head as Elizabeth's immediate return.

In what is believed to be Etheline's final letter, the woman [discorre] about her condition in those hectic days:

“Dear Tommen,

I hope this letter found its way into your hands. Heinrike locked me inside my room and there’s little access to food and water, let alone a piece of parchment. I only got my hands on this one after appealing to the motherly side of Daisy’s old maid. The hag always pitied me and now she finally had the chance to crumble before this motherless child. I am being mean, i know. If your eyes are roaming this words, it’s all thanks to her. But i can’t control my anger. At this moment, it is aimless and innocent people get hurt as a result.

By now, you must be aware of my sins. I won’t apologise. A lifetime of sorries led me to where i am today. So why am i writing to you? I suppose it’s due to our own fairshare of misdeeds. Or perhaps it’s simply me being audacious in an attempt to tell my side of the story to the only pair of ears willing to listen.

I’ve loved Heinrich ever since my fourteenth nameday. I danced on my own that day, to the sound of drums that existed only in my head. It took me some time to notice him watching me but when i did, i paused as a deer caught in a trap. I waited to be berated, the punishment, however, never came. Instead, his lips claimed mine under the peach tree. 

In the following years he promised me the world: to make me Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock. The lie fed me when i was hungry, warmed me when i was cold and it lulled me to sleep for countless night but i always took it for what it was, a fantasy. And yet, i cried as if the heavens were torturing me after his departure to Storm’s End. It was particularly agonising for he denounced me a month prior, declaring that our love was an abomination. I didn’t have the spirit to tell him that as an anathema, there was no other way i could devote myself to him. 

Does the knowledge of having touched such rotten flesh makes you feel sick*? 

Time came and he returned. I was prepared to never speak of our private matters and offer him only my wits to continue my work of aiding the Lannisters but he surprised me by kneeling and declaring that he hadn’t spent a day without thinking about me. He looked feeble. Despite the broad shoulders and the stern face, he was still the sixteen year old that sneaked into my room, as i was still that foolish girl, because, Lord Tommen, i took him in.

The wedding wasn’t meant to have any validity. It was meant to serve as a token for our crimes and he purposely chose Septon Carn not only for his elderliness but also his forgetfulness. It was never meant to end up like this.

There you have it, Lord Tommen, my pathetic life and my pathetic excuses. Now, i’m at the mercy of god.

I have one last request: please find Rusty. I managed to take him out of the keep before Heinrike could come for him but he’s now wandering the streets of Casterly Rock alone, and you know they don’t treat him kindly. He’s the only son i’ll ever have and i’ve abandoned him just like my mother did to me.

Yours,

Etheline”

Although the Faith publicly accused Heinrich and Etheline of incest, they lacked the judicial power to trial the siblings. Nonetheless, Heinrike sanctioned a walk of atonement to be performed by the young bastard. As tradition, her mane, eyebrows and genitalia were stripped of hair. A crowd of approximately five thousand people awaited the woman at Casterly Rock’s castle. They followed her march with screams of “Whore!” and “Harlot”. Some say she cried through the trajectorie’s entirety while others assert that she endured everything with a directionless gaze. It is believed that the event was a diversion so Heinrich could embark on a ship to the free city of Braavos. The following morning, however, his body was found hanging by a rope tied to a hook in the roof. 

Etheline died of stoning at the gates of Lannisport.

Lord Tommen Selby arrived with his calvary at the end of the day. Upon seeing Etheline’s body displayed at the square, he slit the throat of the City’s Guard Chief, who at that moment was still trying to contain the havoc and the trampling. Records disclose that he removed his cape, enveloped the woman’s corpse and cried at the nook of her neck. He later trailed all the way back to Casterly Rock while carrying Etheline in his arms.

Etheline Hill was posthumously titled Lady of Casterly Rock by Lord Tommen⁷.

She features in “The Lineages and History of The Great Houses of The Seven Kingdoms”. Her passage reads: “ETHELINE HILL, born to the late Robert Lannister, second of his name, and [obscure], in the year 203d after Aegon’s Landing at the Last Hearth. Blonde of hair, brown of eyes, wed in her twenty-sitch year to her brother HEINRICH LANNISTER. Died in her twenty-sixth year from stoning at Casterly Rock.”

¹ The scar on Etheline’s left temple is believed to come from one of this incidents.

² Daisy Lannister spent the summer of 233 AC at King’s Landing, where it is believed she was being courted by prince Daeron Targaryen.

³ It is likely that Etheline was referring to herself, as the Lannister women contemporary to her were reportedly taller than Lord Selby.

⁴ It is uncertain why Lord Robert declined prince Daeron’s offer of engagement in favour of a landed knight such as Lord Tommen Selby.

⁵ A series of correspondence, spanning from the end of 235 AC until the end of 238 AC, exchanged between Lord Tommen Selby and Lady Etheline Hill, were found in a chest kept by the side of his bed after the Lord of Winterfell and Casterly Rock and Hand of The King was assassinated by prince Aerys II at Red Keep, King’s Landing.

⁶ Lord Eustace Tyrell was the second cousin of Heinrich Lannister, Daisy Lannister and Etheline Hill. He employed his forces to House Lannister during the Greyjoy Uprising.

⁷ After defeating Houses Tyrell and Baratheon in the Siege of Casterly Rock, event in which without a male Lannister heir, Lord Eustace Tyrell laid claim to the Westerlands due to him being a Lannister descendant on the female side, Lord Tommen Selby, now Lord of Casterly Rock had Etheline posthumously titled Lady as his first decree.

* the line "makes you feel sick" is directly inspired by the song Strangers by Ethel Cain.

tags: @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark @evita-shelby @mischievouslittlecreature @peakyswritings @cillmequick @darklydeliciousdesires

[pacifymebby]

the peaky boys being jealous cuz the person they’re going after (not dating yet js courting) gets a lot of attention, gets letters written to her, people confessing to her, asking her to go to pubs yk yk

Tommy

🌿 Tommy would try to ignore the fact that the woman he wanted was receiving the attention of other men, for as long as he could.

🌿Actually he'd try very hard to pretend that he wasn't interested in you or what happens to you at all.

🌿 He'll be distant but you'll feel his eyes on you whenever you're in his vicinity. You'll feel that angry, resentful glare burning you whenever any of the other peaky boys are talking to you.

🌿 You'll be completely convinced he actually hates you. The way he ignores you completely whenever you speak in a group, the way he often straight up leaves when you walk in.

🌿 He gets really snappy amd abrupt with you, cutting you off midsentence when you are talking to John or Isaiah. He hates seeing you laughing at their jokes or enjoying the company of someone that isn't him

🌿Everyone else will know! His brothers will tease him about it, Polly will roll her eyes and call him a stupid boy, his sister will roll her eyes when you ask her why her brother hates you.

🌿He'll still try to hold it in though, he will never say anything cruel about you to your face but if one of his brothers mentions that you look pretty today, trying to rile Tommy into confessing something, Tommy will just shrug and say he hadn't noticed, that actually he thinks youre quite plain.

🌿 You overhearing that and stewing on it for days, refusing to speak to him, glaring at him from across the room, wounded because you knew he didn't like you but you hadn't expected him to be so horrid and dismissive.

🌿 So you make a point of accepting a date from a fella you know Tommy will really hate. You don't see much in this man but you know that when Tommy gets wind of your evenings plans he'll be fuming.

🌿And of course he rises to it, storms into the Garrison to find you giggling in the corner with this young lad.

🌿 He wants to grab this stupid prick by the collar, shove him up against the wall and slit his throat, or at least beat him half to death so that he never goes near you again. He also knows that if he does then you'd hate him for certain.

🌿Instead he'll stand over you, cough politely and then ask to borrow you. He would perhaps apologise to the young lad if he was feeling particularly charitable, but "borrow" isn't exactly the right word because he's got no intention if giving you back.

🌿 "Tommy what the hell are you playing at you can't just..." "Sorry love need you on somw important uh.. Business, yeah very important it is..."

🌿 Would take you completely by surprise pushing you up against the wall the second he gets you outside, kissing you, testing the water at first watching your expression carefully to see how you react, and when you stutter but don't pull away he knows you feel the same.

🌿"but you... You hate me!" "What you? I could never..."

Alfie

🐻 Is having the most murderous thoughts. He has to be very careful thinking about you this way, as if you're already his that is, because he might actually hurt someone over this.

🐻 You aren't his, he knows you aren't his, but he's always been so fond of you, always treated you as if you were his... Well almost... Hes never actually told you how he feels but... He's always seeking out your company, always got his hand on your waist when youre close to him... And he's always making sure you're close to him

🐻 And you can be sure he's threatened every man in his bakery not to go near you, not even to look at you... To treat you with the upmost respect.

🐻 Everyone else knows you're as good as his, except apparently you

🐻 Alfie is super possesive over you, if he catches a man admiring you he'll go and stand with you, shoot them a warning look.

🐻 If they persist he'll have a quiet word...

🐻 And then when one of them isn't deterred, when they actually ask you out... When you say yes...

🐻 He starts thinking the worst things... Murderous things. He really does think hes going insane, getting this emotional over a woman

🐻 He feels physically sick seeing his girl with another man, his temper is volatile and he gets so grumpy... His bad mood doesn't go unnoticed by you and when he snaps at you and hurts your feelings he feels awful!

🐻 He grumbles at you about your man, has the cheek to ask what you even see in him

🐻 But when you try to tease him "careful alfie you sound jealous" he just sneers at you and laughs you off,denies his jealousy until he's blue in the face.

🐻 He thinks he can be patient, wait it out, this little fling youre having won't last long and then you'll go back to being his girl, but after several months, when he can see things really getting serious between you and this lad he realises he can't wait.

🐻 Hes in agony, completely torn up, doesn't know what to do and, in a panic blurts it out one day. He doesnt mean to and he isn't remotely articulate...

🐻 "I don't understand it right, what are you doing with him? What you gonna marry him yeah? You're gonna settle yeah? With him of all fucking people..." "I dont see why it matters to you alfie!" "Well of course it fucking matters to me y/n, how dya think i feel yeah, watchin my girl fall in love with someone else right, when she was always supposed to be my girl..." "What?" you frown looking back at him in confusion.

🐻 "Yeah thats right, you were always supposed to be my girl..."

Arthur

🍂 Anger Issues TM

🍂 Arthur has always been terrible at managing his feelings. He gets awkward and shy whenever you're around, fumbles his words when he's talking to you... Can't say anything right. It makes him feel stupid and frustrated.

🍂 And then when he sees other men talking to you with such ease, such charm... When he sees how taken in by them you are, how you flirt back, how you smile and play with your hair...

🍂 He can't control the rush of jealousy and rage he feels, he feels bretrayed, he feels like an idiot, he is full of selfloathing and he just wants to break things.

🍂 He takes it out in the boxing ring, fighting, losing himself in the fights, going crazy. When he's beating the shit out of his opponents all he's thinking about is the sight of you laughing, twirling your hair as you smiled up at some younger, more charismatic young man.

🍂 He's so unbelievably grumpy, literally snarls at people who ask him how he is... And of someone asks him whats gotten into him lately he won't hold back

🍂 "Its that tosser y/n's been spending all her bloody time with lately. Hes a fuckin scumbag.." his brothers will laugh at him and tease him but not too much... They can tell this is sensitive, that if they push him too far he'll end up taking all his anger out on them.

🍂 But when they do question him "What exactly is it you don't like about him again?" he can't really answer, he gets speechless and stutters and then tells them "He just is, he's just a tosser, i hate him..." and won't elaborate... Because he can't, not without admitting how he feels about you

🍂 Definitely drinks away his sorrows, gets way too drunk, stumbling around the Garrison snapping at everyone, everyone knowing to stay out of his way, except you

🍂 Instead of being grumpy and mean to you though he just gets shy, slurs something about how you should go back to your lad, "you don't wanna be wasting your time on a drunk fool like me sweetheart..."

🍂 Might (definitely will) get into a fight with your man...

🍂 Might end up blurting it all out to you one day when he's drunk.

John

🌼 King of laughing through the pain.

🌼 Will try desperately hard to convince himself and everyone else that he isn't at all bothered by the fact that his childhood sweetheart seems to be the most adored young woman in small heath.

🌼 Obviously he isn't convincing anyone and to be honest, even you can probably tell he's jealous the way he goes on making jokes and laughing it off every time someone brings up all the attention you get

🌼 He definitely tries to tease and embarrass you about it, and thats partially how you can tell he's bothered by it.

🌼 When someone sends you flowers one day he makes a joke about how they aren't even the kind of flowers you like... You raise your brow at him, "and why do you care whether they sent my favourite flowers or not?" "I don't I'm just saying..." "Flowers are flowers John, they're still nice, maybe if you're so bothered you should send me some sometime..."

🌼 He'd go bright red, unable to hide his blush, he'd choke on his drink and stand up abruptly abandoning you with the gift from your secret admirer.

🌼But he'd dwell on what you had said, he'd torture himself wondering whether maybe he should do it. Whether you'd like them, whether you'd just laugh at him for even trying...

🌼 And even then, when he did decide to do it, he'd spend ages at the florists second guessing whether he was right about which were your favourite flowers.

🌼 Every week he buys you the same bouquet after much deliberation, he vows that this time hes going to actually give them to you but then he chickens out and the kitchen in watery lane slowly fills up with the flowers he's too scared to send.

🌼 His brothers start to lose their mind with him and Aunt Pol finally snaps at him "look john if youre not going to be a man and give the girl the bloody flowers dont fuckin buy them for her... The next bouquet you bring home youd better bloody well send or thats it..."

🌼 And at the end of the day his aunt pol is far scarier than the thought of getting rejected by the girl of his dreams... Somehow.

Bonnie

🍀Is absolutely miserable, completely besides himself. He just doesn't know what to do. Honestly, he's distraught, he feels like his hearts been torn from his chest and shredded to pieces...

🍀 What happened exactly? Oh, he saw you smiling at one of the older lads last night around the fire.

🍀 But thats enough for poor Bonnie, just that one sight is enough to convince him that you're in love with somebody else, that you don't notice him at all, that he's missed his chance with you...

🍀 So he'll withdraw from you completely and there's no way you won't notice the change in his behaviour towards you... Instead of being his usual cheeky self, he won't be able to smile at you anymore without his eyes getting all bruised and wounded looking...

🍀 And you'll miss him so much! If you didn't know how much you loved him before you'll really feel it now he's backing away from you. You will think its something you've done wrong, you won't understand why he's changed

🍀 You'll get so worried about it you'll end up asking one of his sisters and honestly, they'll be clueless too, they'll be really shocked because they know how fond of you bonnie is, they won't understand what he's playing at

🍀 But he'll carry on like it, watching you from afar with wounded eyes, beating himself up for not doing something sooner. Even his dad will be trying to perk him up and offer him some encouragement.

🍀 Eventually you'll get sick of missing your best friend and you'll catch him by surprise one day when he's coming back from his training. "Bonnie please talk to me... Tell me what i did wrong... I... I just, i really miss you..."

🍀 He'll be so confused and conflicted and he'll probably accidentally come out with something spiteful and harsh... "surely you haven't got time for missing me these days, not now you've got..."

🍀You'll frown, you'll be confused, you'll try to ask him what he means and when he blushes and becomes stuttery and shy, when he gets frustrated with himself for not being able to get the words out... Thats when you'll understand

🍀 "oh," you say softly, barely even a whisper, looking at him with a small shy smile which grows with every second that passes.

🍀 "What do you mean oh... Y/n..." he starts getting nervous, thinking he's made things even worse... But then you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek and link your arm with his and say "I don't know why you think I'd rather spend my time with him than you Bonnie Gold..."

Isaiah

🐀He pretends he doesn't care and to be honest, he lowkey does not care... So what if other lads think you're pretty

🐀In fact of course other lads think you're pretty... Hes been in love with you since forever and he knows he has good taste... So its only natural that other men would be interested in you too

🐀Isaiah isn't worried though, he knows he can get to you without even trying... He has all the confidence in the world whether he should or not.

🐀When other men send you flowers or ask you out he just watches it all with a smirk. He isn't bothered one bit...

🐀But then perhaps his playing it too cool is the reason he sees you kiss another man, outside the Garrison one rainy tuesday night, it looks all too romantic and real for Isaiah's liking and he skulks past you straight to the bar where he intends to stew and sulk over a whiskey

🐀Of course he isn't sulking for very long... So what you kissed another man, its only because you don't know who else is on offer...

🐀So he strolls straight back outside to where you and this lad are having a cigarette and he comes straight out with it...

🐀"Whatre you doing love?" "M'havin a cigarette Isaiah..." you say trying to play dumb, "No love, i mean what are you doing outside kissing this stupid prick - no offence mate - when you could be inside with me..." it shouldn't work... It should piss you off

🐀But this is Isaiah and somehow he has the uncanny ability to charm his way out of any situation.

🐀So you leave with him, you don't know why but you do... And he gets his way, and he gets to flaunt you to all those men he knows are feeling jealous as they watch you sitting on his knee.

🐀And if that other lads got a problem with how things have turned out Isaiah won't think twice about fighting over you.

Michael

☘️ Fucking livid mate.

☘️ He's very possesive and definitely the jealous type so if he sees you getting attention from other men he will be angry and he'll definitely take it personally. Way too personally.

☘️ Everyone will be on the receiving end of his little sulk but you will definitely receive the bulk of his frustration. He'll be so snappy and short with you...

☘️ His foul mood will probably push you even further into the arms of his competition which will make him even more angry

☘️ You just know his mother will be giving him hell for being so childish and defeatist about it... "For fuck sake michael grow up, if you want the girl hurry up and make her yours... Show her what she's missing..."

☘️ So thats what he does... First he has to swallow his pride, say hes sorry for being such a beast to you recently... And you're a sweet girl so of course you'll accept his apology...

☘️ Then Michael will take it upon himself to outdo every other man who tries to attract your attention. If they send you flowers he sends you twice as many and turns up on your door with them. If they offer to walk you home Michael will drive you home, if they try to spoil you with little gifts michael will bring you a diamond necklace... He'll completely overwhelm you with gifts and affection trying to win you over this way

☘️ Until one day you burst and stop him midsentence, "Michael stop for christ sake stop whats gotten into you lately?"

☘️ "can't a man spoil his favourite girl these days love?" "But this... This is more than that its... Its... Well its insane michael! Look at all this stuff! I don't understand..." "Whats there to understand love just accept the gifts eh?" he'd get frustrated with you all over again, his temper flaring when you argue back...

☘️ "I just don't understand why you're giving them to me Michael!" "Just... Just because alright! I just bloody am... Cause..."

☘️ When it comes to actually telling you he gets tongue tied and so annoyed with himself and maybe he manages to spit it out in the end... And maybe he gets frustrated when you giggle and say "oh... Well why didn't you just tell me how you felt... Didn't have to buy me all these things..."

☘️ "Well am not taking them back..."

[creativepawsworld]

Silence - Chapter 28

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary = Polly receives a telegram she is furious with and brings Ana to tame her temper. Tommy, exchanges some harsh words, leaving Ana feeling angry, upset and frustrated. 

Warnings = Language, Gang Activity, Sexual Relations, Murder, Violence, Religion, Grammar, mentions of Death

Word Count = 2647

Note = TWO updates...What? No honestly I am overwhelmed with the support this  story has been getting, honestly I can not thank you all enough. Also finally getting around to using this amazing banner by Selene @forgottenpeakywriter​ please show some love and support as it is awesome! 

The boys had returned from London a few days ago with smiles on their faces, I took that as a sign that good things happened. They achieved whatever it was they had wanted. 

Upon arriving home, Tommy had sanctioned the rebuild of The Garrison. The locals crying out for their local to be re-established. The Garrison was the heart of Small Heath for the residents of Watery Lane, Artillery Street, and Montague Street, not to mention the other surrounding areas.

I just found the idea of it hard.

“Ana come with me” Polly voice interrupted my work, looking up from the suit jacket on my desk, the woman was standing in front of me. Face like thunder, my coat in her hand.  

Glancing over at the clock on the wall, it was approaching five thirty in the evening. I had been so lost in thought I had missed out on the majority of the afternoon.

“What’s going on Polly?” I asked with a sigh, standing to my feet taking the coat from her hands putting it around my shoulders. “Father, that’s me for tonight.” I call to the man who was busy making the suits for the Italians, all I got was a nod in response.

He insisted on making the suits himself, keeping all the expensive materials by his desk. If I had so much as looked in the direction, he would send me back to my desk doing the menial tasks for the locals, replacing zips, fixings holes, re-hemming trousers or fixing waistlines. 

Finishing all the tedious jobs, I opted to complete the requests of the other Peaky Blinder boys, one requesting a suit jacket, another a waistcoat. I had asked my father on numerous occasions, about who he had borrowed the money from and if he had repaid the debt yet, but each time I was met with the  same answer, I’m dealing with Ana.

“I need you there so I don’t do something I both regret” She growled, holding the door open, her pace a lot faster than her usual walk as she marched towards the Shelby Company Limited building. “Is he here?” She barked at Lizzie, who was sitting behind the secretary desk in the front room.

Lizzie had started working as Tommy’s secretary after he returned from London. I wasn’t entirely thrilled with the idea, but Tommy insisted that it was nothing more than a job. Lizzie helped him overcome a lot of things since he returned from the war, and this was his way of thanking her.

“No, but I am expecting him back shortly” Lizzie nodded, looking up from her typewriter, her eyes scanning over the both of us, a inquisitive look on her face as she stared at Polly. 

With another growl under her voice, Polly stomped upstairs towards his office, stripping the coat from her shoulders and pulling a letter from her purse before sitting in Tommy’s chair waiting on his return.

“Why are you so angry with Tommy?” I asked taking a seat on one of the green leather chairs in front of the desk once my coat was hung up. 

Without uttering a single word, Polly reached over giving me the paper in her hands the words Let us break bread together in the middle. Shrugging my shoulders I looked up at the older woman, confused. Did she expect me to know what that meant? 

“He has chosen to side with the Jews Ana. He has personally declared war on the Italians.”

“No, no he wouldn’t be so stupid not after everything with Billy Kimber. He promised.” I breathed out uneasy, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

“You’re right Ana, he isn’t stupid” Her words held so much venom as she spoke. “He purposely set off to London to do this. Going to Sabini’s club, beating up his men. Arthur lost a bloody fucking tooth and for what? To prove who has the biggest dick of all?”

Polly finished, her hands shaking with absolute anger as I let the words sink in. Sabini, the name of an Italian gangster in London. A big racetrack owner in his own right.

I couldn’t help but fit pieces together in my own little jigsaw. These must be the men my father had gotten himself into so much debt with. The men requesting the ridiculously expensive suits and not paying a penny towards them.

Tommy knew who my father was in debt to when I told him the other night. After mentioning they were Italian his complete body language changed and now I find out he went to London to add fuel to the fire, was he insane?

“Newmarket was profitable” Tommy spoke walking into the office, paperwork under his arm. Polly rose to her feet as soon as he entered.

A nervous feeling overcame my chest as my stomach churned with sickness. I was trying to figure out how all of this was going to turn out. I didn’t know much about the Sabini gang, I didn’t want to, but I knew nothing good could come from it.

Nothing good ever came from being involved with gangsters. That was blantely obvious over the years.

“Arthur told me how you left your message” Polly’s voice firm as Tommy placed the paperwork on his desk, a hand on my shoulder giving it a light squeeze before walking over to the table, pouring himself a glass of the brown liquid he had become depended on.

Polly followed after him asking about Arthur’s medicine her words barely registering in my head as I held the telegram in my hand. Tommy, either completely unphased or not listening to his aunt, continuously cleared his throat, marching back to his desk to reopening the paperwork he had arrived with, Polly now next to me.

“STOP fucking fighting me” Tommy spoke, voice slightly raised along with his hand as he interrupted the words falling from her mouth.  

“Somebody has to.” Polly returned, before turning to me, hand out. Placing the paper into her hand she threw it on the desk in front of Tommy. “That arrived an hour ago, there’s no name on it but it comes from Camden Town”

Tommy lifted the paper from the desk, taking it in both hands he stared down at the words. I waited for a reaction, anything but there was nothing. 

“I was gonna burn it, should have” Polly raged, walking over to the coat rack and grabbing her coat. “Well done Tommy, you’ve picked a side now your at war with Sabini” She finished leaving the room.

Tommy not making eye contact, let the telegram fall from his hands. I could see the millions of thoughts running through his mind, his hand reaching off to the side lifting the glass of whiskey and taking a sip.

“You here to shout at me as well?” He asked, eyes staring off into the distance.

“No” I whispered, closing my eyes I leaned my elbow on the sides of the chair, resting a hand over my mouth as I fought back the sickness.

“Did you father take the money?” He asked, huffing out a breathe throwing himself back into his seat, his hands searching through his coat pockets for his packet of cigarettes.

“Did you know before you went to London that it was Sabini my father was in debt to?” I asked ignoring his question.

Tommy, leaned forward striking the match, bringing it to his lips, his eyes finally falling on mine, the tears threatening to fall as my stomach continued to twist and turn, the nausea becoming unbearable. 

“Did your father say it was Sabini he was in debt to?” He asked, eyebrows raised as he inhaled deeply on the cigarette, the smoke clouding his face as he exhaled it from his nose and mouth. 

“No, he just tells me he is dealing with it” I reply, a stray tear falling from my eye. Wiping it away quickly, I waited in silence for Tommy to answer my unanswered question.

“Probably doesn’t want to worry you” Tommy sighed, reaching forward, tipping the smoked ash into an awaiting ashtray.

Biting the side of my lip, anger began to grow in my chest, constricting around my heart as Tommy looked down at his paperwork, continuing to work as if I wasn’t in the room.

“Tommy” I spoke through gritted teeth, the tone of my voice bringing his attention to me. Looking up at me through his eyelashes, he raised a questioning eyebrow, wanting me to continue. “What happened in London? Why did you start a war?”

“To expand into London, I need to make room. Everything that happened was done out of necessity, Stace. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t understand” I repeated my tongue running along my bottom lip as I nodded. There he was dismissing me again.

“No, you wouldn’t. This is real business Stace not stitching together a few bits of fabric and making a suit.” Tommy spoke, his words cold, but his tone cut through me like he had just sliced me with a knife. It was filled with disgust, disrespect, dare I saw hatred?

“Fuck you Tommy.” I spat, standing forcefully to my feet, purse clutched in my hand as I made my way to the coat rack, throwing the garment around my shoulders. “At least I make an honest living unlike you, going around cutting people who look at you the wrong way like some kind of animal.”

“Eh?” Tommy yelled back, standing to his feet so fast, his chair hit off the wall behind him with an almighty bang. “An animal? You think an a fucking animal? You have no fucking idea the things I am truly capable of Anastasia, no fucking clue.”

“No because you don’t fucking let me in Tommy. You let everybody else in, Polly, Esme, Grace, fucking Lizzie but me, the woman your supposed to love is just there to keep your cock wet just like Arthur said.”

“You think your fucking here to keep my cock wet eh?” He asked, his tone dark as he rounded his desk. Three long strides and he was by me next to the door. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as he glared down at me, his eyes unrecognisable. 

“I could have any woman keeping my cock wet Stace, Lizzie was fucking begging for it the other day. Grace still writes to me asking for it so be fucking grateful…”

His words were cut short by my hand slapping across the side of his face harshly. His head turning to the side, a red hand print showing up on his cheek as he pursed his lips together. 

“Fuck you Thomas Shelby, fuck you” I spat, tears falling from my eyes but I refused to let him see them. 

Walking around him, I marched from his office, almost running down the stairs. Lizzie was standing in the door frame of her office listening to every word, her head falling her chest, avoiding all eye contact as I passed.

Storming out into the street, the rain bounced off the ground, filling the puddles even more. The anger in my chest was just building and building as I trudged through them down the street.

The thought of him keeping his business from me hurt, but I grew used to it over the years, but keeping letters that Grace had been sending, a secret. That broke me.

Not able to contain the scream, I ducked into a nearby alleyway, assuring I was towards the end of it before letting go.

Clutching onto my chest, I screamed for as long and for as loud as I could. The sound reverberated off the walls, echoing back towards me, the sound deafening.

“Ana? Ana Adler?” A voice called from the top of the alleyway, a lanky man stood at the end. With the darkness, I couldn’t quite make him out until the match he used to light his cigarette lit up his face.

“Colin?” I called back, brushing the tears from my face as if it would make a difference. He had already witnessed me screaming into the darkness. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Everything alright?” He asked, walking closer towards me, his clothes black and dusty, after finishing his shift at the factory.

“I’ve had better days” I replied, shifting between my feet, before walking back towards the exit and into the light. I wanted to feel more comfortable being around the man I barely knew.

“Yeah I figured” He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “You scream in dark alleyways often?”

“No” I returned the laugh, shaking my head as we stood underneath a street lamp, the rain easing off slightly. “How are you? Haven’t seen you since…” I trailed off a part of me still not able to accept the words, graveyard, or funeral just yet.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t think Thomas Shelby would like another bloke sniffing around his girl, even if it were for a chat.” He inhaled, puffing on the cigarette, the smoke disappearing instantly into the night air and his lungs.

“So what’s changed?”

“You were screaming in a dark alleyway, alone. That’s, that’s what changed” He laughed, tossing the cigarette away, his hands finding his pockets for some warmth. 

“I guess that would attract anyone’s attention” I smiled back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, looking down at my feet. My cheeks were red from the embarrassment of being caught. 

“Yeah it certainly would. How are things? Are you doing okay?” Colin asked, leaning forward slightly on his feet. I was just about to take a step back when a voice I wasn’t ready to hear spoke. 

“She is doing just fine, aren’t you love.” Tommy said from behind me, his tone low, threatening as he looked at the taller gentleman.

Biting my tongue, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I looked at him, his eyes glaring at Colin, who had now taken a step back, hands raised in a defence position.

“I wasn’t trying to… I worked with her brother, she…I mean”

“Fuck off.” Tommy dismissed, his eyes not leaving Colin’s until he was walking back down the street, tail between his legs and out of sight. 

“What was that?” I asked, turning towards the man, a glare of my own thrown his way, but as usual, he wasn’t affected.

Whatever was going on inside his mind had preoccupied him. It was stressing him out, and he redirected that stress, that anger towards me.

“We will talk when we get home Anastasia” His voice carrying a bored tone.

Sparing me a glance, he nodded his head, silently telling me to follow. Part of me wanted to tell him to go fuck himself but the other part wanted out of the rain.  

Turning his back to me, he started walking towards the old factory warehouse, the only place he trusted his car to be parked after the incident with the Lee’s.

Sighing, I walked after him, the part of me wanting out of the rain winning. I was already soaked through and miserable, I didn't see the need to prolong it.

We walked in silence, the rain bouncing off the ground was the only sound until we rounded the corner, the factory fires billowing out, bringing a nice amber glow to the street.

Tommy walked ahead towards the car while I admired the light, a warmth coming over me, much like it had the night of the bonfire in Watery Lane all those years ago.

Taking a moment to reminisce in the fond memories, I entered in after him. My heart instantly stopped.

Tommy was now standing with his hands raised as a man exited his car, gun in hand, pointed straight at him. 

What had we just walked into?

Taglist

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary @slutforcoffein @sydneyyyya @happysparklingshadows @margew76      

[oddaodd]

· Wailing Teapots ·

Summary: When Tommy begins suspecting of Y/n's true allegiances he goes and questions her in her apartment only to discover a dark secret. (Angst/Fluff)

Warnings: Implications of abuse. (Nothing too graphic but just in case).

Author's note: I'm back! It feels so good to write again! My life has been a bit hectic lately, but I hope I can continue to make time for my writing because it honestly feels like coming back home after the most exhausting of voyages. Anyhow I hope y'all enjoy this and have the loveliest of days. ❤️

·

Three strong knocks on the door stole Y/n’s attention from the live fire burning in her fireplace. With quiet feet she tiptoed to the door and placed her hand on the doorknob and stood still hoping to hear something that could tell her who it was behind the door, but she could only hear her own heartbeat beating violently in her ribcage as she held her breath.

She slightly hated herself for being afraid, but she couldn’t not be afraid, not with all the letters that had been delivered to her home.

“I know you’re in there Y/n”

As soon as she recognized the voice as Tommy’s, she finally breathed again before partly opening the door a weak smile gracing her features when she took in the sight of him. Before she could ask him what he was doing there he pushed the door open and allowed himself inside.

The smile vanished from her face in an instant and she quickly closed the door. There was something different about him, something that made the hairs on her arms stand up in trepidation. His eyes didn’t look like they had done a few nights prior when he took Y/n to the outskirts of town for a walk. The kind of walk in which one shares the kind of conversations that makes people grow closer together, the kind of walk which ends with a gentle kisses and fleeting touches.

“This is a nice place” he commented taking off his peaky cap, not even sparing Y/n a glance as he began walking slowly through the apartment which though small and plain held a considerable amount of expensive yet tasteful looking knick knacks that brightened up the whole place despite the old furniture that had beed there when Y/n first moved in.

“You couldn’t have waited for a formal invitation, could you?” She asked in a light tone still standing by the door, in the hope that it could change Tommy’s odd aura, but he ignored her question all together

“Almost too nice, wouldn’t you agree?” He asked picking up a vase and examining it before finally turning to look at Y/n.

“Tommy?” She asked, not really knowing why was he acting so strange.

“I know I pay you fair wages” he began, putting the vase down fixing his eyes on the fireplace where small traces of burnt paper rested “but I highly doubt you were able to make yourself of such an array of treasures with what I pay you.”

“All of this came with me from America.” She said feeling like she ought to explain herself and though her answer was an honest one, Tommy didn’t seem convinced, nevertheless, he hummed in mocking understanding before clearing his throat .

“Aren’t you gonna offer me tea?”

“Sure…where are my manners?” she said with a nervous laugh before walking to where her stove was and putting a kettle on.

Tommy followed her closely and drew a chair from her flimsy kitchen table before sitting down and taking notice of her shaky hands as she tied around a bit in the kitchen with her back to him as he sat on her favorite chair.

“Wish you had told me you were coming, I would have..”she began as she opened her pantry to put away some bread.

“You’ve been burning letters” he interrupted, not being able to shake off the image of the paper remains.

Y/n stilled for a moment before closing her pantry, thing which he noticed.

“Yeah, I don’t have the room to keep every single letter I get ” Y/n said, a defensiveness lingering softly in her words.

“I agree” Tommy said in a cold tone “specially when you are getting so many of them. Paul tells me he delivers at least 10 a week here” he continued, referring to the mailman who after being questioned by Tommy forgot all about post confidentiality.

“They are my mother’s” Y/n stuttered out.

The teapot then wailed, making her jump slightly before going to remove it from the stove and finally turning around to go and pour Tommy a cup.

“Right” Tommy said, his eyes not leaving Y/n’s figure as she poured the tea.

“Yeah, she’s ever so passionate about plants, been telling me all a-a-about her new greenhouse.” She continued pressured by Tommy’s heavy stare and silence.

Tommy offered a small cynical smile that Y/n didn’t see, she didn’t want to look at him. She felt like crying for she realized just then how suspicious she looked.

The sound of the chair being drawn again teased at Y/N’s ears, forcing her to look up at Tommy who was calmly walking towards her. She had never been afraid of him, but she couldn’t help but back away as he inched closer to her, her eyes widening.

“Who is Clyde Attenborough?” He asked producing another letter from his pocked like the many ones Y/n had been receiving for a while now. Same stamps and everything.

Color drained from her face at the sight of the letter and she found herself unable to produce an answer as her back came in soft contact with her pantry.

“What does he know? He asked.

“Where I live” Y/n whispered sorrowfully as a tear finally slipped down her cheek. Her eyes being for mercy.

“What have you been telling him?”

“Nothing” she answered truly.

“I bet he pays generously to know how the company works”

“I swear im not working for anyone else” Y/n stuttered, finally understanding why Tommy was so suspicious. Being his secretary, she knew plenty about the skeletons the family kept.

“Then why are you crying?” He pressed.

“Because you’re scaring me.”

Her words seemed to have an effect on Tommy for he immediately backed away, throwing the letter on the table, his back to her.

”I’m not gonna hurt you” he stated, beating himself up for corralling Y/n like that. His voice much less menacing than mere seconds ago. “Who is Clyde Attenborough?”

“I haven’t been honest with you” she finally confessed sniffing. To hell with everything.

At this Tommy turned around to look at her an unpleasant mix of emotions swimming in his eyes.

“Im married” she sobbed “Clyde’s my husband”

For the first time in a long time, Tommy was caught off guard.

“I came to Small Heath because I ran away from him, I figured he’d never find me but..” She said taking the letter in her shaky hands as if the thing were to blow off in any given second “I guess I was wrong. I-I don’t know how he found me”

She shifted her teary gaze from the letter to a shocked Tommy “I swear im not passing information” she chuckled sadly, the knot in her throat choking her a little.

Tommy stood glued in the same spot, not knowing what to do. His world had come crashing down when he began suspecting of Y/n’s alliances after Polly suggested he look into it. A pretty American girl, moving to a grey English town, taking up a job that was exhausting at best. It reminded him a little too much of Grace.

Now that he knew the truth , he didn’t feel any better.

“Is he dangerous?” He found himself asking after a few seconds of silence.

Y/n sniffed as she walked to her fireplace “I wouldn’t have left if he wasn’t” she said as she threw the letter into the crackling flames.

“Is he in Birmingham?”

“He keeps writing that he’ll come get me if I don’t go back, but im not sure” she answered.

Tommy fought the urge to go up to her and take her in his arms and instead put his peaky cap back on before heading for the door.

“I’m sorry” he whispered before stepping out of her place, The guilt of intimidating her in her own house gnawing at his insides and the newfound anger her husband created present on his drive home.

The next day Y/n noticed as she peeped out the window two men, both in peaky caps standing at the entrance of her apartment complex.

Three more days passed and Y/n was again surprised tby the sound of three knocks on her door as she read one evening.

“Its me, Y/N” Tommy’s voice flowed through the door shortly after the knocks.

Y/n quickly got off her couch and made her way to open the door. Her eyes falling on Tommy’s apologetic features.

“It’s dealt with” he said in all seriousness. The thick accent she loved so much vibrating through her ears.

As soon as she registered what Tommy had just said she let out a strained breath, her lips turned into a tired smile and a lone tear slipped out her misty eyes.

“Wanna come in?” She asked after a few seconds, feeling happier than she had felt for days.

“Is this a formal invitation?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips, relieved that his antics from a few days prior hadn’t maimed Y/n´s trust.

At his question she just smiled, looking at him lovingly before taking hold of his hand and pulling him into her apartment before pressing her lips to his in a soft yer passionate manner. Without breaking the kiss, Tommy then closed the door.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @lilymurphy03 @slytherinicequeen

[rose-edith]

(3) Your Grandmother the Dowager Countess meets your fiancé Tommy would include:

(Crawley!Reader x Tommy Shelby. Peaky Blinders x Downton Abbey: Crossover.)

•dinner was perhaps something that Tommy and you were most nervous about. Yours and Tommy’s dinners in Birmingham were little more than two courses- a main and a pudding. But at Downton the set up was much more complicated.

•and then there were the wines for each course, and the cutlery and plates and how Carson and Alfred and James would weave around the table delivering platters and the such. You’d done the best to train Tommy in how things worked, but so far all he’d really managed to learn was that with the cutlery you start from the outside and work your way in.

• after you’d rushed through getting dressed for dinner you’d dismissed Bates and helped Tommy to get dressed yourself. He felt uncomfortable in such formal attire, but for you he’d wear a clown suit…so white tie and tails is the least he could do. You’d done your best to make him look like a gentleman, and he carried it off well! But you longed simply for Tommy. Your Tommy, the Birmingham lad that had so easily won your heart and swept you off your feet.

•you were both lucky that your Mother had set the seats on the plan so that Tommy was sat between you and Sybil, with Sybil’s husband Tom on the other side of her. So hopefully Tommy would simply be able to copy your actions and you’d both survive dinner!

•and of course there was the other big hurdle to overcome…your Grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Grantham. You’d warned Tommy that she had a razor sharp tongue, and naturally, upon discovering the engagement of her youngest granddaughter to a working class unknown man from Birmingham her fiery side came straight out.

•she stared coldly at Tommy as he held out his hand to shake hers, so you took hold of his hand in your own and gave it a squeeze. Your Grandmother was at least a little warmer with you, and greeted you with half a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She disapproved of your choice of beau, but she still loved you.

•and then Carson called you all into dinner. To say it was awkward as you all sat down was an understatement! And as per the ‘rules’ of polite society you were left talking to your Mother for the first course, you’d only be able to turn and talk to Tommy when the second course arrived. Fortunately Sybil was easily talking to Tommy, and she managed to make her actions obvious so that both Tom and Tommy could copy her and not put a foot wrong. You couldn’t help but smile at the display…at least until you saw the almost angry look in your Mother’s eyes.

•the first course was painful for you, but from what you could hear conversation was flowing easily between Tommy and Sybil- but as you’d been totally honest with Sybil in your regular letters and phone calls to one another, she knew pretty much everything to know anyway! You were glad at least to have one Ally in the family.

•Carson however was far less impressed with having to wait not only on Tommy but on Sybil’s husband Tom too. But neither man seated at the table commented on the cool service they received, when you could turn to Tommy in the second course you told him to ignore Carson, they’d get used to this new world eventually!

•the conversation at the table did seem a bit stifled and awkward in general, but you did your best to ignore it.

•and ignoring it was going really well until Mary slammed her spoon down and ran from the room crying about an argument she and Matthew had had!

•unfortunately your Grandmother had caught the little nudge you’d given Tommy to get him to stand up as Mary left the room- he didn’t quite grasp the rules surrounding about when to stand and when to sit when people left and entered rooms.

•so while Tom went to Matthew and Cora (your Mother) went to Mary, your Grandmother turned to you and Tommy. She had a twinkling look in her eye as she ‘open fired’ about the alarming lack of basic manners and decency in the youth these days.

•your face went hot and you felt your blood start to boil. You were quite prepared to unleash a tirade against your Grandmother, but Tommy slipped his hand onto your thigh under the table, halting your verbal volley.

•instead he smiled at the elderly woman and nodded sincerely. “You’re quite right Lady Grantham, I’ll be sure to mention those poor manners to some young people if I ever see any., better yet I’ll get my friend Winston Churchill to get basic manners added to school curriculums!” He smirked at her and turned on his charm, if you didn’t know better you’d say that Tommy was flirting with those twinkling eyes. And it had the most extraordinary effect!

•at the mention of Churchill everyone’s ears perked up, and you gave Tommy a warning glance- name dropping was ok, but Churchill wasn’t exactly a friend…

•but then something unexpected happened…your Grandmother laughed! She actually grinned at something Tommy said! So naturally, you couldn’t help but smile too. Granny was absolutely smitten!

• “Mr Shelby, I do believe you’re going to be an interesting addition to the family. But as we already boast a revolutionary chauffeur- sorry,” she held up her hands as Sybil started interjecting about Tom’s new job, “journalist, and we’re soon to include a lawyer in our mix, your social class is hardly the reason why my son disapproves of you. No, it’s whatever hold you have over my granddaughter.” The Dowager spoke and cut off Tommy as he started to say he held no hold over you, the elderly woman just smiled. “Love is the most precious, expensive, costly hold. You’ve won yourself a Crawley girl. Best you look after her heart, and best you don’t steal mine either!” She joked, cooing laughter that had all the ladies at the table smothering smiles. Who knew THE Violet Crawley would fall so readily for the charms of a Shelby?

•you couldn’t help but grin at Tommy, and Granny stared at the picture of love she saw. Tommy still had a lot to prove, but she could see well enough for herself that you were both in love.

•across the table Robert glared at Tommy. He still didn’t believe that this was love, he thought you were too silly and too caught up in the sex appeal the young man had. Little did he know the truth, so he closed his mind to the possibility, and he made a note to get his lawyer Murray to do some background checks on the Shelby’s.

[galacticwildfire]

Rosalie | Tommy Shelby

One

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Gray!oc

Summary: Polly Gray's step daughter always admired Tommy Shelby, helping Polly run the business in his example while he was away at war. Until her own frustration and advances from her Ballerina company's director inspired her to volunteer as a war nurse to escape, and she saves Tommy's life at Verdun where the two fall into a heated affair in war-torn France.

Tags/Warnings : mentions of inappropriate touching from company director, graphic descriptions of bayonette wound and choking, graphic description of blood transfusion, flirting and word play, oral and penetrative sex female receiving. Use of the word gypsy referring to main character who is of romani descent as common in Peaky Blinders.

Word count: 4.1k

~

~

~

September, 1916

The air's cold as my eyes skim over the words of the letter, judgement heavy on my shoulders.

My dearest Rosalie, 

I think of you often in those war torn hospitals while I wait for you at home, waiting for you to grace my stage. Again, I have luckily dodged the draft and am taking care of the business accounts from here in France. The company is missing your considerable talent, as am I. I miss the warmth of your forbidden flesh. I ache to make you my own. To touch your sweet-

I tear the letter, unable to read anymore, my skin crawling at his words, almost making me sick. I'll write a reply later, something pretty that will get him to send something that Polly can sell for cash. Pretty women exploiting men is easy business, and for the most part it is, but not this one.

"Coward," I find myself muttering as I shove the torn fragments inside the pocket of my apron, having not missed my sickening French company director for a moment, all while being here in France, treating the soldiers he should be fighting alongside instead of directing the bloody ballet. 

My boys are out god knows where on the front lines, the only word I get of them is from Pol when she writes to where I'm stationed saying she's heard from them. Arthur, Tommy and John. My boys. I doubt they even know I'm out here in France, I was seventeen waving them goodbye from the train station with Ada when this mess began. Arthur twenty seven, Tommy twenty four, John nineteen. I remember thinking that John was too young for all this. Now here I am at nineteen in the midst of it, yet still utterly useless in the grand scheme of it all. Nothing I do will help them come home sooner. I thought by leaving my role as a secretary for the Peaky Blinders to come out to war I'd be doing something.

Yet all I seem to be doing is watching men die.

"Rosalie!" one of the nurses yells running in. "We have another unit coming through!"

"Shit." I curse, jumping to my feet, the letter forgotten as I leave the dorms to hear the ambulances screeching to a halt outside, direct from the front lines.

"Bring them in!" I yell to the more able bodied men, carrying their brothers in on stretchers if they're lucky or slung over their shoulders. My boots drag through the mud as I run to the open ambulance doors, directing them to the appropriate wing of the building, the now familiar stench of blood and rotting flesh filling the air. 

More ambulances and trucks keep rolling in with men piled up like parcels to be delivered,my eyes search the bodies of the men for my boys, and am relieved to not find them.

That is until a vaguely familiar voice calls out "Rosalie!"

At the sound of my name from a man's mouth I turn, staring in horror at Freddie Thorne.

"Freddie?" I gasp out, checking him over and finding him covered in blood, but unhurt, then see the man he half carries-half drags and see my life flash in my eyes. "Tommy?" My horrified eyes meet Freddie's, a look I've seen all too often in the eyes of the soldiers dragging their fallen brothers into these walls. "Tommy!"

I run forward and Freddie stammers "He- he's losing a lot of blood."

At the pure fear in his eyes I jump into action, wrapping Tommy's other arm around my shoulder and dragging him half conscious inside the building. 

"Come on, get him on the bed," I yell, us dragging Tommy into one of the few vacant beds and ask Freddie "Is it a gunshot?" He's pale as he shakes his head and I look to where the blood is coming from. "It's a bayonette wound," I realise in horror. "He's lost too much blood."

While I reach for anything to try to soak up the blood I feel a hand on my arm "He's gone, move onto the other patients."

I look up at the Matron, arguing "There's still a chance-"

She grabs my wrist, and orders "Move on."

I rip my wrist free only to find two nurses pulling me back from Tommy until Freddie breaks it up and I yell "Get your fucking hands off me and let me do my fucking job!"

One of the nurses stares at me with wide eyes and tries to get me to reason "Triage Rosalie, there are other men here we have a chance of saving, he isn't going to make it."

"Then I'll dig his grave myself," I spit out. "I am not leaving his side."

"Christ," the Matron curses and orders someone "Get her out of here!"

"Fuck off!" I snap at the Matron in my thick Birmingham accent and she stares at me open mouthed while I simply ignore her to return to Tommy and she storms off, choosing not to pick this battle.

"What are you doing?" Freddie asks as I drown my hand in alcohol.

"Doing the last thing I can do," I answer and he flinches as I stick my finger inside the stab wound, applying enough pressure to close off the subclavian artery, if Tommy can feel it I don't know, but at least he's still alive. All I can do now is try to stop him from losing anymore blood. 

"Can you save him?" Freddie asks desperately and I know my answer.

"I will," I decide, failure not an option, and look at Tommy having seen soldiers this close to death, and with no one else willing to treat him... "If anyone tries to intervene stop them."

I start grabbing what little gear we have that could be used from this procedure, my eyes looking over Freddie, while not distinctly injured I cannot be sure his blood is free of the diseases that plague the soldiers brought into here. Quickly hooking up the empty drip and using my teeth to tighten the strap around my arm, only then does Freddie realise what I'm doing.

"It could kill him-"

"He's a dead man Freddie," I grit out. "It's the last shot we have." I insert the needle into my arm, the blood quickly flowing into the bag. Freddie goes to put pressure on the wound and I slap his dirt covered hand away. "Do that and he'll definitely die from infection, there's nothing else you can do, now go help the other men."

He's hesitant to leave Tommy "I can't-"

"That was an order," I tell him and he continues to resist. "By order of the Peaky Blinders get the fuck out of here and go help your men. Tommy is safe with me."

He stumbles away to help the men being dragged inside and I look at Tommy, my hand trembling as I take a wet cloth to his forehead, wiping away the mud and the dirt until I recognise the man I grew up with. By the time I've cleaned up as much of him as I can the bag's been filled, and I take a fresh needle to his arm as I was taught by one of the American nurses and let out a short breath of relief as he's still breathing when the blood begins to enter his veins and immediately begin filling a second one.

"I've got you Tommy," I find myself saying to him, he trusted me to help Polly take care of business, so I'll be damned if I let him down now. Some of the colour's slowly coming back to his grey face but it's not enough for me as I finish securing the compression bandage to his wound and I look over to Freddie, dragging more men in before I start trying to get Tommy to come to but yelling at him's not making much of a difference so I start trying to slap him awake. "Damnit Tommy, come on!"

Suddenly he's choking as if he's suffocating, his clothes covered in dirt, moreso than the other soldiers, and realise in horror just what might be in his lungs and immediately roll him over into the recovery position so he can cough it all out without bloody killing himself. 

"That's it, get it all out," I say, making sure no blood comes up with it. "You aren't dying on my watch Tommy Shelby."

And I hear him splutter my name "Rosalie?"

"Damn right," I tell him, lying him back down now he's breathing easy and he looks at me bewildered.

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Saving your life," I answer, removing the drip from my arm and patching myself up before bringing a wet cloth to his forehead. "Now Freddie's fine, he's helping your men."

"You should be in bloody Birmingham," he chokes out.

"So should you but here we are," I reply, pulling the rest of his shirt off him. "This will need to be washed, or better yet burned with the amount of blood you lost." I pull up a basin of water to clean him up properly and he doesn't argue as I wash his face, even half conscious and on death's door still the same old Tommy.

"Rose-"

I hear someone yelling my voice. "Rosalie, we need you in the wing!"

"Freddie will keep an eye on you," I say and call him over, knowing he won't die on me and force myself to attend to the other men.

~ 

It's twelve hours later when I can finally return to Tommy, blood on my apron and exhausted, but I'm sure as hell not going to sleep without checking on him.

He's quiet as he sees me walk over, the drip out of his arm and colour back in his face.

"Freddie told me what you did," he says from the hospital bed as I sit beside him, and with strength in his voice he is once again the leader I was accustomed with. 

"It was the only choice-" I quickly begin but the look on his face cuts me short. "Tommy?"

"I'm not angry with you for giving me a blood transfusion," he says, almost amused that I'd be worried about that. "I'm impressed, where the hell did you learn to do that?"

"I-I didn't," I admit and he realises why I was worried. "I remember hearing the doctors discussing it and took note in case I ever needed it."

"Well, then you're a bloody genius aren't you Rose," he says and I step forward as he goes to sit up. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Try that again when I don't have to change your bandages," I retort as I often do with stubborn soldiers and he just smiles at me.

"So, the ballerina becomes a nurse."

I raise an eyebrow. "The gangster becomes a soldier."

He shrugs it off. "Just serving my country."

"Same as I."

"Aye," he says, his eyes on me as I remove the soiled bandage, pleased to find it isn't overly inflamed. "What's the verdict then, am I gonna die?"

I smile a little bit. "Well, Pol might kill you herself when she finds out you ended up here but until then your life is safe."

He laughs quietly. "You aren't wrong there Rose. So tell me, how's business at home?"

"It's women's business now," I tell him, distracting him as I clean the wound. "There's no place for ballerina's in war. In 1914 I was making thirty pounds a year performing over in the east, then nothing. Before you left you made me secretary to help Pol with the bookmaking. But, again, not many men betting on horses when they're over here dying so, we had to find some ways to keep things afloat, but we did."

Tommy knows damn well what I mean, he was the one who saw it coming, he was the one that made the gang and the business one and the same. He's the one that turned the company into what it is now.

"And you haven't run into trouble?" he asks and I shake my head. "Don't lie to me Rose, I can tell when you're lying."

"We haven't but the Peaky Blinders have," I admit to him. "They're a gang of youths with the big boys away Tom, but don't worry, Pol's keeping them in line."

"So why aren't you there?" he asks me. "Last I saw you you were seventeen waving us off at the train station, what the bloody hell are you doing here."

I keep it short. "I decided to volunteer."

"And why did you?" he asks me, and I struggle to give him an answer, the same as I struggled to give Polly one. "Get into trouble with a bloke?"

"I won't let any get within five feet of me let alone close enough to cause trouble," I tell him, brushing off the truth of it. "I just wanted was to do something. I got so sick and tired of waiting for letters for you boys to tell us you're still alive. Business had never been slower, I wasn't making money, and knew I'd be better use out here."

He nods in understanding. "Well, I suppose it's not just men who have a duty to serve our country."

"Duty," I scoff to his surprise. "We all know this has nothing to do with duty. Neither of us owes any loyalty to king or country. You were a gangster, I was a ballerina. You boys didn't have a choice. You would have been drafted eventually."

"But you did," he says and ponders "Before I left for war for you were seventeen with everything ahead of you. You were still a kid when Arthur bribed the manager of the company to take you on. A black Irish Romani dancing with the French." 

They bribed bloody Francis. I blink at him, wanting to be angry that I was signed to the company because they bribed the head of it, but I know how things work. "I never knew."

"Of course you didn't, Pol and us boys just wanted to see you happy," he says off-handedly and I'm stunned into silence, listening to him. "Like when she got me to convince the Russian teacher to tutor you. Pol swore you would be the first English Ballerina to really make it, to perform in France and Russia, and all the rest.  And when I watched you that night dancing for the opera, I believed it. Yet here you are like the rest of us."

"Well, I'll apologise that your investment didn't quite turn out how you planned," I say putting a fresh dressing on his wound, now knowing the business mind behind it, that it was just that. Business. For the Shelby's to produce a star, to get a pretty income from a pretty girl. "I didn't plan for it to turn out like this either."

He lifts a hand up to my face. "Rosie." My eyes meet his and he says "You might not be blood but you're family, and if you think that you were an investment, I'm telling you now that you're the best investment I've ever made with what you're doing here."

I just shake my head, amused at the irony of it all.

"I am tired of standing in this hospital watching men die," I tell him, knowing this isn't what I signed up for. "I should be out there holding a gun, not in here-" my voice catches and I shake my head. "You wouldn't understand."

"Why, cos you're a woman?" he asks me sarcastically, yet not mockingly. "I know same as every man in this hospital wanting to kill those bastards."

"And so do I," I say fiercely. "I know how to use a gun, you and your brothers made sure of that."

Oh that they did. It was Arthur who first put a gun in my hand at eleven, but it was Tommy who taught me to use it, not long after his father walked out on the lot of them and Pol took them in. My own father had died around the same time, my half siblings being taken away as well. I was just old enough to escape being taken away with them. Ada and I were always close but it was then we became like sisters, and the brothers took me in as one. 

The brothers who are now all off at war, and somehow fate brought Tommy here to me.

"You'd be just another body lying on that field Rosie," he says, using the nickname he and his brothers had for me when I was a child, a long time ago. "You could pick up a gun and kill a couple men just to be another dead body. At least in here you're saving lives."

I laugh sadly. "I'm watching men die, that's what I'm doing."

"You saved my life," he says, holding my hand and I still. "That's not nothing."

And perhaps he's right. When it's his life that's not nothing.

We're interrupted by Freddie who walks in grinning. "There you are, the bastards haven't gotten you yet."

"They definitely tried," Tommy remarks and I leave the boys to it, feeling the ghost of Tommy's hand on my cheek, holding my own.

He always seemed so much older than me, me being the same age as Ada, seven years is no small number. But we've grown up since the war began. Here I am at nineteen, feeling as if those days were a lifetime ago.

I'm on my way to clean my apron when I'm stopped by the Matron.

"Rosalie Gray you are lucky I did not send you back to England this instant."

I turn to her, somehow braver knowing Tommy is nearby. "I performed a successful blood transfusion on a patient at death's door, he is awake and well now. I don't think the higher ups would be pleased to hear you've dismissed me for saving a life."

"I'd be dismissing you for being a damn smart mouthed gypsy from Ireland who talks like a sailor."

"Actually I talk like a woman from Birmingham," I correct, having learned it from Pol who's been my stepmother ever since I was a child. "You can chastise me if you wish but we both know you will not be sending me back to England."

She definitely does not like that answer. "I might not be able to send you back to England but you can assure yourself you will be transferred from this hospital."

"I look forward to it," I reply as I leave to change my apron.

~

Sure enough a mere few hours later while I'm attending to the other men, watching Tommy and Freddie out of the corner of my eye, my name is read out to accompany the most injured men back to the main base.

I move to Tommy who's bidding Freddie farewell.

"You won't be coming?" I ask Freddie.

"I'm not the one in a hospital bed," he replies and tells me "Keep this one out of trouble."

"She can try," Tommy says and I smile a little as I move to make him ready for the train. "So, where to now Rosie?"

He seems to be taking this all in stride at the very least.

"Main base," I reply. "It's where they send men like you to recover until you're ready to be shipped to the front line again."

"And you're coming with me?"

I smile as I tell him "Matron wasn't happy with me telling her to fuck off so I'm being transferred with you lot."

He laughs "That's my girl."

My cheeks flush a little as I help him sit up, thankfully since the wounds in his shoulder he's still mobile enough. "Come on, best get in there before everyone piles in."

He doesn't object to me holding his arm as we head to the train with no belongings aside from what we wear and the letters in the pocket of my apron from the bastard company director, the true reason I left England.

"How's Ada and Finn?" he asks me as I help him on board the train.

"Well," I answer. "And you'll be glad to know Ada's keeping herself firmly out of the family business."

"And you?" he asks me. "Secretary, but from what Pol's told me you've been getting your hands dirty."

"Like I said, with you boys gone it's woman's business."

"It's hard to imagine you giving it all up," he comments, and I realise he's onto me. "Working for the company, your ballet...."

"Come on, we'll talk business later," I say, sitting him down knowing I'll have to be in the nurse's carriage. "I'll see you at the base."

~

I'm standing outside the base in a clean uniform and cigarette between my fingers, reflecting upon it all. I wish Ada were here, she didn't understand why I left so suddenly. Pol no doubt suspecting something had happened, truth being told I don't even know exactly what happened. Or at least that's what I want to believe, that it was all a bad dream.

A nightmare from which I'm interrupted by the sound of his voice.

"You never smoked back in Birmingham."

I try to keep my voice light. "I didn't drink either, things change."

"Ah, you're becoming a true Shelby then," he remarks, leaning against the wall beside me with a cigarette of his own.

"I'm not a Shelby Thomas."

"You might as well be," he replies. "You're Polly's daughter, step daughter, but still her daughter in all but blood."

It's the truth. "She had a fit when I left."

"So why did you really leave?" he asks, and I know not to lie to Tommy. "You don't have parents who can look after you, and Pol's not here, but I am."

He must see the way my hand shakes as I bring the cigarette up to my lips. 

"Francis, the company director, got a bit too close for my liking."

He looks at me in that protective way he always did, the look that said one word and he'd handle it. "What do you mean too close?"

"Too handsy," I answer and tell him "He always is with his favourites, sex for roles, he's always fucking the star, and well, he wanted to make me his star."

"Did you fuck him?"

"No, but-"

His voice has a dangerous edge to it. "But what Rose."

"He had a driver pick me up to take him to his estate, saying it was for a meeting but I was the only one there. Made an excuse about the car needing fixing so I couldn't leave. Sure enough that night he came into my room and-" my voice catches and the cold creeps into my bones. "I don't think he- I don't know."

He's confused. "How don't you know?"

"I pretended to be asleep," I tell Tom. "I froze, he was touching me and touching himself and-" he cuts me off my taking my shaking hand. "I'm sorry."

"You left to get away from him?" I nod stiffly and he warns "One word Rose."

"I know Tommy," I tell him. "I know. But look, the fact I even have the career I do is a miracle, I'm a Romani bastard-"

"You're a Shelby and a Peaky Blinder," he corrects me. "Now I don't want to hear anymore about him, I want to hear about what you're going to be wearing tonight."

"Tonight?" I ask in surprise, confused. "What's tonight?"

"A dance for the soldiers and the nurses," he tells me, his hand still holding my own as he points to the base. "In that hall over there, seven sharp, now what will you be wearing."

"Well, I'll be wearing my uniform," I reply, still a little confused. "Same as you."

"Then how will you wear your hair?" he asks with a smile that's infectious and I begin to catch on.

"How would you like me to," I ask him, his hand warm as it brushes my cheek to remove my bonnet, letting my dark hair spill over my shouldesr.

"Just like that," he says, pleased at how my cheeks turn redder. "How old are you now Rosie?"

"Nineteen."

"Nineteen," he repeats and says "You're even prettier than I remember."

There's that charming Tommy I know, but I'm not used to his charms being used on me.

"And you're even more handsome," I reply, holding his eye, surprising myself as I dare to bring my hand up to his cheek, stroking the rough stubble with my knuckle. "Here, let me help you shave."

I bring my hand away, bold as he follows me inside the empty wing I stand outside of, and he sits down on the edge of the bed like a good patient as I find a razor, knowing his own hand is still too unsteady to do it properly, not that he'd ever admit it.

He's quiet as I bring the razor to his cheek, his jawline as sharp as ever, moresore even, and his eyes just as blue as ever. His hand is gentle on my waist as he holds me between his legs, and when I finish he asks me "Will you save a dance for me tonight?"

"Depends," I tease. "Can you keep up Thomas?"

He smiles up at me. "I can try."

"Then I'll see you tonight," I say, running my knuckle along his jawline before stepping out of his reach, watching his eyes following me. "Behave yourself until then."

He's amused "I should be the one telling you that."

"Perhaps you should be," I smile mischievously before I turn my back on him to return to the nurses wing, knowing this is a bad idea but how bad can it be if it's Tommy's?

~

In the wing I cinch the waist of my dress to show off the curves that are not ideal for a ballerina but do well in attracting the male eye, with breasts and wide hips on a slender enough frame. As I've grown older I've learned to dress my body, to accentuate my best features. To keep my black hair curled and my dark eyes wide. To make my voice resembles the queens english rather than the Birmingham Irish drawl I was raised with. To make myself a respectable young woman of good standing, instead of the truth. A bastard girl whose black Irish traveller mother abandoned her and whose Romani father died drunk in a river, taken in to be raised by her father's wife and her family of gypsy gangsters. 

I've learned to make myself appear gentle, doe eyed and pretty, learned to wear lace gloves to hide the bloody knuckles I'll sometimes get after a night out in Birmingham, to hide the roughness of my voice. To make myself the perfect girl a respectable man would marry.

But perhaps that doesn't matter anymore.

Not when I'd be working with Tommy in Birmingham.

I'm a woman of ambition, I know that much. It's why I always admired Tommy. Arthur was like my big brother, ten years my elder, rough but caring. John, he's only ever been two years older than me, he fancied me when we were young, but soon enough he got a girl knocked up and married her. Now he's got three little ones from Martha and another on the way from his last visit home. While the boys played Tommy was always that bit more serious, always thinking about the future instead of running amuck with Arthur and John. He was the brains behind it all, the Peaky Blinders and the company, god knows they're struggling without him.

And if anything happened to Tommy at war... god knows what would happen to the Peaky Blinders.

But for now, I'm betting all my stakes on him since he knows how to fix the odds.

Which is why when I walk into the room and see him there in uniform my heart stops in a way I can't rationalise, in a way it's never done for anyone else.

It's Tommy, growing up he was always Ada's older brother, the most handsome of the three, the most charming. Now I'm grown up, and he knows it. And somehow in the middle of France here we are.

My father was a gypsy, and I know better than to think run in's like this are mere coincidence, no matter how strange and fantastical they may seem.

What I've always admired about Tommy is that he's a realist with limitless ambition, something I've carried into my own life. So now he's standing right in front of me I'm not looking away.

"Miss Gray," he says formally.

"Mr Shelby."

He extends his hand to me "May I have this dance?"

"You may," I reply, holding his eye as I take his hand and he puts a hand on my waist. I'm unable to help the small gasp that comes from my mouth as he takes control, pulling me against him and I tease "You think you can keep up?"

"Let's see," he challenges as the music starts, smiling as he follows my footwork and takes the league, spinning me around with his good shoulder and proving that he is a good dancer after all, and a gentleman as he takes a thornless rose out of a vase to slip it behind my ear.

"I didn't know you were a romantic Tommy," I say, my hand on his chest.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," he replies, knuckle under my chin. 

"Like what?"

He bring's his lips to my ear. "That I'm not a good man."

I know damn well what his business is, that before he went to war he had just started to run Birmingham. Tommy is not an apologetic man, he is clear about what he wants.

Something I took on board running the business with Pol.

"And I'm not a good woman," I breathe, knowing the things I do, the men I manipulate to get what I want, what I need. "I've always admired you Tommy. A man with limitless ambition and the guts to make it happen. A man with a brilliant mind." I pull back enough to look him in the eye. "Who do you think I learned from?"

He's impressed as he tilts my chin up, eyes dark. "Come with me, now."

I certainly don't argue as he guides me out of the dance hall with a hand on my waist, looking over his shoulder as he leads me down a hallway we definitely shouldn't be walking down and pulls me into a lush office, locking the door behind us.

"Whose is this?" I ask him, flustered as he backs me towards the desk.

"Some old bastard who'll be too drunk to even find his way here," he answers, eyes on my lips as he pulls off his coat while mine trail down his body and notice the red bleeding through his shirt.

"Damn it Tommy, I told you-" I take the jacket from his hand and look up at him smiling to himself as I unbutton his shirt, pulling it open to check the stitches, finding them a little torn but not drastically. "Didn't I tell you not to tear this?"

"Yes ma'am," he answers. "But I had greater priorities."

I raise an eyebrow. "Which are?"

"To dance with a beautiful woman," he says, stunning me as he takes my hand and pulls me closer until I'm between his legs. "Now, a gentleman should always ask before kissing a lady." I'm already drunk off his touch as he takes my face in his hands. "May I kiss you Rose?"

It's soft at first, soft and chaste and gentlemanly. He carefully parts to look at me, asking a question with his eyes that I answer with my lips. From there on it's a beautiful madness. 

My hands pull at his shirt until it's discarded on the floor and he grabs me by the waist, lifting me up onto the wooden desk, pushing my legs apart to make room for me to pull him against me, lips and tongue battling with mine as he unfastens the front of my blue uniform dress, leaving marks along my neck as he hikes my skirt up.

"Tommy," I breathe, head light and blood pounding at his touch, and he looks at me, fingers in my black curls and eyes dark at the sight of me.

"Are you a virgin Rose?"

There's no accusatory tone in his voice, nothing to dissuade me from answering honestly. "Yes."

"Then let me take care of you."

He gently lifts me off the desk, taking my hand as he leads me to the couch in the centre of the room. He sits down and gently brings me between his legs, pulling my dress down over my hips and leaving me in my undergarments. A simply white stay, corseted, and stockings held in place by garters. 

His eyes shamelessly linger on my body as many have done, but for the first time vulnerable like this I do not feel uncomfortable. I trust him. 

"You're beautiful Rose," he tells me, hands on my waist. "But you already know that don't you?"

"Maybe a little," I smile and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to my chest above where the cotton stay rests. "I trust you Tom."

He looks up at me with those bright eyes, hair messed as I run my fingers through it, in a way that's perhaps fonder than it should be. It's then I wonder if this would mean anything to him, or to me even. But we're too fond of one another for this to mean nothing. For him to romance and sleep with his sister's closest friend, a girl he's spent years living with under the same roof, a girl he taught to drive and treated as a sister. How could it mean nothing?

How have we ended up like this?

I know he's asking himself the same question because he tells me "I don't mask risks if I don't believe it's for nothing." His hand comes to caress my cheek. "But there's something in you, a glint in your eye. Something worth betting on."

He sees me as clearly as I wish I could. "Good. Because I've already placed my bets on you, Thomas Shelby."

He pulls me into his lap, kissing me as he loosens the laces of my corset before opening it at the front and tossing it aside, fingertips digging into my thighs as the cotton fabric gather's up around my hips. The fireplace beside us is warm as I pull the stay off and let it fall to the ground, my naked chest pressed against Tommy's as he grinds up into me, both of us aching through the fabric. He lifts my hips up, eyes wide as he pulls my briefs down and tugs them down my thighs, lifting his own hips up as my fingers work at his trousers, pulling them and his briefs off so I can feel him between my folds. The sensation is sudden and jarring, as if this is suddenly real, but he takes his time with me,

His lips and tongue are warm on my neck as he grinds my hips down onto him, the friction a  blissful rhythm. It's not until I'm almost crying out his name he finally enters me. The sudden pain I feel is almost a relief, that I am indeed intact for him, yet it just as quickly eases as he lowers me down onto him, taking control of my hips as he moves us until finally I'm able to keep rhythm. His heavy breathes and quiet curses are poetry in my ear as he takes me, and just like that everything has changed.

Taglist

peachlle mysticalbouquetwolf-posts 50svibes literishdegree99 smailaway shelundeadxxxx skinny-bitch-juice thisloverx canimarrypizzaornah kittycatcait219 notyour-valentine scarlettorch plumes-de-nuit groovynancy theonewhereifangirl maximoffsimp hopefultacobouquet goodnightnsel waterismylifeuniverse peakyarchive seleneshelby whitejuliana1204 theshelbyslimited redactedfanficarchive sshadow-singer