#peakywomen

[peakyblinded]

POLLY GRAY PEAKY BLINDERS S03E05

[sneakyblinders]

the drunk lunch

A/N: this one follows directly behind chocolate cake and followed by the greatest honor. i take no credit for the gif, i just imagine this is how he’d look towards the door during the night scene. 

warnings: language, sexual themes (we run into a lil kink the mrs and Tommy have) , alluding to smut but no smut, alcohol, smoking, more grace.  not canon. a part of my tommy and his darling wife au <3

Grace knew she needed to get close to you to get close to Tommy—to get close to what the company was doing. To get close to the guns. But she was struggling with finding out how to do it.

Every time you were in the Garrison, you were on Tommy’s arm, the two of you inseparable. You worked in the office together, and when Tommy had other business to attend to with his brothers, you stayed behind in the office, managing other projects on the legal side of things that he had asked you to attend to. He made sure you only dealt with the legal side of things, never wanting to endanger you. It often made you angry how he would not tell you of the other side of things, but he insisted he kept you in the dark for your own safety. In the event that people came around asking for information, you would not be able to give them anything, simply because you had no idea.

So one afternoon when you walked into the Garrison alone, Grace saw it as her opportunity.

“Mrs. Shelby!” She called out to you as you walked towards the stairs, where Tommy’s office is. He had asked you to grab a few files and bring them back to the betting shop office.

“Good afternoon, Grace.” You said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“You—you may find this quite odd, but, since I’ve been in town, I haven’t made very many friends,” you threw her a compassionate smile. “And I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go to lunch one day. So we could get to know one another.”

Your jaw clenched, and her demeanor changed. She held a towel nervously in her hands. “I’m busy most days, Grace, but I could potentially find an opening.”

A smile crept on her face slowly. “Oh—okay. Just, let me know when you have time. I know of a new restaurant that just opened down by the docks on the other side of town.”

“I’ll get back to you.” You said, walking up the stairs to Tommy’s office.

That evening when you crawled in bed next to Tommy, you decided to tell him of the barmaids invitation. He was reading his book, nearly finished with it now, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Thomas,” you start, getting into bed beside him. He set his book down in his lap and looked at you softly. “The barmaid asked if I would go to lunch with her sometime.”

He dog-eared the page of his book before setting it down on the nightstand and reaching for a cigarette. “And that’s a bad thing?”

You pondered his question as he lit his cigarette. “No, not necessarily I don’t think.”

“Then what’s the problem, my love?” He asked, exhaling smoke.

You pulled the blankets farther up your body, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Nothing really, I suppose. I just find her odd.”

“You find most people odd, my dear.” He chuckled, taking another drag on his cigarette.

You knew he was right about that. “She said she didn’t have very many friends, and after I thought about it, I realized, I don’t really have very many friends here, either,” you said, leaning back against the headboard. “I have you and your family, and my family, who are miles away now, but I don’t think it’s the same as a friend who you can confide in, don’t you think?”

“What happened to Betty?” Tommy asked.

“She got married and hasn’t talked to me since. Not sure why.” You said, sad at the thought of losing a lifelong friend.

“Hm,” Tommy mused.

“Who is your closest friend?” You asked him, genuinely curious as to what his answer would be.

“Arthur.” He said quickly. “Arthur has always been my closest friend.” Your heart swelled. They did have a special relationship, the two of them. An interesting dynamic, certainly, but a good friendship. A solid brother bond. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing to have friends, Darling, I just want you to choose them for the right reasons, that’s all. We’re a powerful family and people want to get close to us for lots of various reasons, and I don’t want you getting hurt.” He said, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

“I’ll be okay, Sweetheart.” You assure him, curling into his side.

“Then go out with the barmaid. You can clear your schedule whenever you like. You have good connections with the boss at work,” he smirked, stubbing his cigarette in the ashtray on his nightstand.

“I certainly do,” you smirk. “Did I tell you he bent me over his desk yesterday afternoon?”

“What a lucky bastard,” Tommy smirked down at you, before rolling on top of you and kissing you. You shrieked, a giggle escaping your lips as he tickled your sides. “What a lucky bastard I am,” he said, breathless as he began to kiss your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks, your lips. “Gypsy fucking magic that brought you to me, you know that?” He breathed against your skin as you writhed beneath him.

The next day you walked to the Garrison around noon and unlocked the door with your set of keys. “Grace?” You called out. Grace came from the back of the pub, a surprised look on her face.

“Mrs. Shelby! I was not expecting you, is everything alright?” She asked.

You stand in the middle of the pub, feeling quite awkward. “I was hoping that I could take you up on your offer for lunch today.”

A smile spread on her face and she nodded. “Of course. I’ll need to be back by five, but I’ve got a lot of the work finished already.”

“Oh,” you wave her off. “Don’t worry about that, I already ensured Harry would be here by four to finish everything up in time to open for the evening.”

“Oh, thank you.” She said, “Let me just grab my coat.”

The two of you walked through town, each of you telling the other the basic facts about themself. Age, education, family.

You sat down at the table in the new restaurant and Grace ordered the both of you whiskey. You began to refuse it, but she put her hand up. “Nonsense, this is going to be a fun afternoon,” she said. You normally didn’t drink, you said Thomas drank enough for the both of you, and that was true. But that day, you drank. A lot.

You were three whiskeys in, and feeling good. You and Grace were at the table in the restaurant still, cackling about something ridiculous when she decided it was a good time as ever to start prying. You were loosened up from the alcohol, and she had thought she had peeled back enough of the getting-to-know-someone layers, making you more comfortable.

“How did you meet Tommy?” she asked as you took another bite of bread.

“Oh, I ran into him in London one day. Literally, ran smack into his chest and he dropped a bottle of whiskey he had just bought. It got all over his suit and my legs. I thought he was going to scream at me but then he just sort of–looked at me.” you say, a far away look in your eyes.

Grace giggled. “He sort of just looked at you?”

“Yes,” you said sighing dreamily, thinking of your husband. “And then he asked me to dinner.”

“Is he good to you?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” you nearly moaned, drinking the rest of your whiskey. “Terribly good to me. He’s ruined me for all other men.” you tell her and she clears her throat uncomfortably at your crudeness.

“What do you do for the company?” she asked.

“I keep the books, help with the numbers. Write letters for Thomas so he doesn’t sound like so much of an ass when doing formal business proposals.” you giggled.

“What exactly does your husband do?” she asked.

You stopped giggling, and miracle of all miracles, despite your rather drunk state, narrowed your eyes. “You’re asking far too many questions about my husband's work.”

Her expression fell. “I’m sorry, just curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Grace Burgess.” you warn, signaling the waiter for the bill.

“Allow me, Mrs. Shelby,” she tells you, but your hand is quicker in reaching for the bill.

“Nonsense,” you quip, and her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean it in that way, Grace,” you try to recover.

“No, it’s quite alright. I appreciate your generosity.” she says as you hand the waiter enough to cover the bill, and a generous tip. “Let me ensure you get back safely.” she says as you stumble standing up, legs feeling a bit wobbly.

“I think I should like to be returned to the betting shop, Thomas won’t be gone yet.” you tell her, and she nods, holding onto your elbow as she guides you through the streets of Small Heath.

You knock on the door of the betting shop, too drunk to remember which damn key opened the side door. “Oh, Thomas!” you say in a sing-song sort of manner.

Polly opens the door, a confused look on her face. “Dear God,” she sighs. “What did you do to her?” she asks Grace in an accusatory tone.

“What did I do? She didn’t have to drink three full glasses of whiskey!” Grace said.

“She offered them, Pol,” you tell her, your words beginning to slur together. “Pol, Pol, where’s Thomas, I need to see him,” you’re slurring your words together, eyes only half open.

“He’s in his office, love. I–I think he may be a little upset at you being so drunk it’s only four in the afternoon.” Polly said as you nearly fell into her arms, brow furrowed, eyes blazing with fury at Grace.

“He’s never upset with me for long, Polly,” you say, a grin spreading on your face. “A wife has ways, you know.”

Polly shook her head in disbelief at you, guiding you inside. Grace followed behind, closing the door gently. “Thomas!” you call again, growing impatient. Shortly thereafter, you hear heavy footsteps upstairs and the familiar creak of the office door opening. “There he is,” you sigh dreamily as he appears at the top of the steps. “My husband.”

A confused look crosses his features as he comes down the stairs. “What the fuck–” he mumbled to himself as you threw yourself in his arms.

“Thomas, I missed you,” you tell him. His eyebrows shoot up as he smells the whiskey on you.

“My love, what in hell have you gotten into?” he asks, taking you by the shoulders to look you in the eyes.

“I just went for lunch with Grace,” you tell him innocently, eyes wide. He eyes the barmaid, who is uncomfortably standing in the corner near the door, shifting her weight between her legs.

“I see, my love. Do you think you can go upstairs and lay on the chaise in the office? Wait for me a moment? Hm?” he asks you softly, rubbing your arms.

You give him a cheeky grin, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Will you fuck me when you come back upstairs?”

He let out a sigh of exasperation. “I’m afraid not my love, but I won’t be long. Go on, please.” he said. You pulled away with him, a pout on your lips.

“Thanks for lunch, Grace. I had a grand time,” you tell her before you wobble up the steps.

“I’ll go make sure she doesn’t break her neck.” Polly said, walking up the steps behind you.

Tommy eyes Grace angrily. “What the hell was she thinking?” he asks her.

“I’m not sure, Mr. Shelby. One minute she was fine, the next she was–several drinks deep.”

He narrowed his eyes. “She never drinks.”

She shifted uncomfortably again, heart beating quickly under his scrutinous gaze. “She did today, Mr. Shelby.”

“Curious that the first time my wife drinks since our wedding day is the first time she goes out with you, isn’t it?”

“I’m just simply trying to make a friend.” Grace told him, tone defensive.

“Well, next time you try and befriend my wife, do not, get her drunk.” he demands, wagging a finger at her. They both heard you wail Tommy’s name from upstairs and she blushed, embarrassed. “Don’t you have to be at the Garrison soon, Miss Burgess?” he asked, exasperated.

“Yes, I will be going now. I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby.” she stammered, walking out of the door. Tommy locked it behind her and watched as she walked down the street towards the Garrison.

He made his way back upstairs, to your shared office, where you were dramatically draped over the chaise, an arm over your eyes, crying. “What the hell, Pol?” he asked as Polly watched you in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous.” Polly said, annoyed. “Absolutely ridiculous, Tommy, how did you marry someone who cannot hold her liquor?”

Tommy shook his head. “She has nothing to drink about, Pol. Not a single thing. So why would she?”

“I’ll leave you to deal with her now.” Polly said. “I’m closing up and going home soon, see you tomorrow,” She turned to leave, but said over her shoulder, “Thomas, she did say Grace offered her all the alcohol. Don’t be too upset with her.” she said, closing the doors on her way out.

He made his way over to where you were laying on the chaise, body bouncing with the most dramatic sobs he’d ever heard in his life. “My love,” he said gently, kneeling down to be eye level with you. “Sweetheart,” he said gently again, tenderly touching your arm.

“What?” you asked, removing your arm from your eyes. “You’re mad at me.” you said matter-of-factly.

“No,” he shook his head. “No, my love I am not mad at you. Not at all, I just don’t understand why you would drink this much when you were out with a complete stranger.” he said. You shuffled to lay on your side, making room for him to sit down next to you.

“She insisted today was a day for fun, wasn’t she drunk, too?” you asked, squinting up at him.

He licked his lips, sighing as he reached for a cigarette. “No, ‘m afraid she wasn’t, darling.” he told you, holding the cigarette between his lips as he lit a match.

You wailed, the tears flowing down your face again. “I just wanted to be friends with her,” you say in between crying.

“My dear, there are plenty of women to be friends with, I assure you.” he told you, lighting his cigarette.

“Tommy,” you say, which catches his attention. You always, religiously, since the beginning of your relationship call him Thomas. He was never sure why, but you always called him Thomas unless you were cross with him, in which you called him Tom, because it was quicker to get out of your mouth when you were shouting. He looks at you, concerned. “Tommy, I think she wants to fuck you.” you tell him and he chuckles.

“She can want to all she wants, my love. I am all yours.” he says, pressing a kiss to your nose. “I have a few things to finish up and then we can go home, yeah?” he says.

“What’ll I do?” you ask, trying to sit up as he stands.

“Nothing, you just lay there and rest. Fall asleep if you can. Alright? Just lay there and look pretty, hm?” he says, and in your drunken state, much to his surprise, you listen.

A couple of hours later Tommy was finished with his work and was ready to go home. He picked you up from where you were asleep on the chaise and carried you down to the car. You faded in and out of sleep on the ride home. He carried you in the house and laid you in bed, taking your coat and shoes off carefully before sliding you into bed.

He went back downstairs, where Frances had prepared dinner for the both of you. “Evening, Frances,” he said, entering the kitchen where she was.

“Oh, good evening, Mr. Shelby. I’m just plating up dinner for you.” she said cheerily.

“Frances, is it alright if I eat in here tonight? Mrs. Shelby won’t be joining me, I’m afraid.” he said, motioning towards the small table in the kitchen.

Her expression fell. “Oh, of course, Mr. Shelby. Is she alright?” she asked, handing him the plate.

“She’s uh–a bit drunk.” he admitted, sitting down at the table.

“That uh–certainly is out of character for her, sir.” Frances said, selecting her words carefully.

“I agree, Frances,” he said, taking a bite of his food. “Please, will you join me?” he asked as he noticed she was starting to clean instead of eating her portion of the dinner.

“Are you certain, sir?” she asked.

“Of course. I am intruding in your space, after all.” he said.

She smiled softly, getting a plate of food for herself before sitting down across from him. “You’re not intruding, this is your home after all.” she laughs.

He shrugs his shoulders. “My wife went out with the new barmaid at the Garrison today.”

Frances looked at him strangely. “May I say something, Mr. Shelby?” she asked. Tommy nodded. “I have a very odd feeling about her,” he gave her a look as if to say, do go on. “The night where Mrs. Shelby organized the birthday party for you at the Garrison, she asked me to bring the cake a little earlier so it would be there when the two of you arrived for the evening. And so, of course, I did. But the barmaid kept asking a lot of questions. At first, I thought it may have been to just get to know people a little better, but then she started to pry about you and Mrs. Shelby. Asked if it was a marriage of convenience. I told her absolutely not, that the two of you are absolutely in love with one another, because, well, you are,” she laughed uncomfortably. Tommy’s cheeks flushed, thinking of the things this poor housekeeper had seen and heard in the short ten months he and his bride had been married. “And she seemed rather upset about that. About you two being in love. She said she didn’t believe that being in love lasted long. I told her that no, this love between you and Mrs. Shelby was different, and she got mad and asked me to leave. So I did.”

Tommy sighed. “Frances, why didn’t you tell me of this sooner?”

“I didn’t think it was that important, just silly female things I suppose; jealousy, you know.” she said, throwing him an apologetic look.

“Anything else like that happens, tell me, Frances.” he said, a dangerous tone in his voice.

“Yes, Mr. Shelby.” she says.

They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence. “Thank you for dinner, Frances. I will be in my office. Please, leave a plate out for Mrs. Shelby, I think she may be hungry when she wakes. Please don’t wait up for her though, Frances.”

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby. Goodnight.” she says kindly as Tommy disappears into his office for the evening.

At nearly ten o’clock, you still hadn’t awoken and Tommy was sitting in the family room in front of the fire, sipping his whiskey, smoking a cigarette and reading his book. His suspenders hung off his shoulders, the braces hanging down to his thighs, his cufflinks and sleeve garters long discarded, sleeves rolled up to the middle of his forearms and the first few buttons undone on his shirt. He had just removed his shoes when he heard a knock on the front door. He hoped that Scout, your faithful protective canine, hadn’t heard, and much to his dismay, she did. He heard the clack of her nails as she came down the steps, and the low growl deep in her chest as she approached the front door. Her ears were peaked, fur on the back of her neck sticking straight up.

“Scout,” he whispered, taking his gun from the holster on the table next to him and padding over to the front door, trying to walk slowly so as to not slip on the freshly waxed hardwood floors in his socks. Scout’s attention did not waver from the front door for a moment. Tommy peered out of one of the side windows that flanked the double doors on either side and saw the late night visitor. Grace.

“Down, Scout,” he commanded the dog, who sat obediently behind him, still on high alert. He apprehensively opened the door, gun in his hand. “Miss Burgess,” he greeted.

“Mr. Shelby,” she said, a little too cheerily for this time of night. “I just wanted to check on your wife. She was a little–worse for wear when I last saw her.” she laughed softly.

“Little late, Grace,” Tommy rasped, Scout growling behind him.

“May I come in?” she asked, rubbing her arms. “It’s a little cold.”

He opened the door a little wider, against his better judgment. “Shouldn’t have come, then.” he let her slide past him, Scout standing immediately and letting out a vicious bark.

“Down, girl.” Tommy commanded, tucking his gun in the waistband of his pants, against his lower back.

“She’s a beautiful dog, Tommy.” Grace said, reaching her hand out for Scout to sniff. Scout apprehensively approached her, sniffing her hand before growling at her again.

“She’s my wife’s dog.” Tommy said, stroking Scouts back, hoping it would tame the low grumbles she was emitting. “I trust a dog's instinct, y’know?” he said, eyeing Grace carefully.

“Yes, they are very trustworthy animals.” she said.

“My wife is upstairs, asleep, hopefully still even after that loud bark,” he said, eyeing Scout, who looked up at him quizzically. “You shouldn’t be here, Miss Burgess.” he said, squaring his shoulders. “How did you know this was our home?”

“Your wife told me where you lived today. She said it was grand, but I didn’t think it would be this grand.” she chuckled nervously, eyeing the crystal chandelier that hung above them in the foyer. They stood awkwardly in the foyer before Grace said, “Well, your wife said you were a gentleman, but I don’t think a gentleman would let a lady wait this long and not even offer her a drink.” she smiled.

Tommy’s expression remained cold. “I’m a gentleman to my wife, and a bastard to all else, Miss Burgess. That is something you should know.”

She approached him apprehensively, carefully calculating her actions. “Don’t you ever wish sometimes, you could be a bastard to your wife, Mr. Shelby?” Tommy froze, as she approached closer. “Don’t you miss that old life you used to live?” she asked. Scout stood up, ears attentive as she heard the bedroom door squeak open. Grace froze in place as Tommys eyes widened in disbelief at the barmaid's words. “Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Shelby.” she continued, reaching out to put a hand on his chest.

“Thomas?” you called out, voice heavy with sleep, rubbing your eyes. Your eyes adjusted to the dim light and you froze when you saw Grace standing in such close proximity to your husband, her hand falling to her side slowly upon seeing you.

“Glad to see you’re awake.” Tommy said gently.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask Grace, who quickly backs away from Tommy.

“I came to check on you.” she said quickly.

“How did you know where we live?” you asked, confused.

“You told me at lunch, silly.” Grace said, giggling nervously.

“I don’t remember that,” you say to yourself quietly.

“I’m sure you don’t remember much, you were quite drunk.” Grace quipped back, moving to approach you. Scout let out a harsh bark that made your ears ring, head already pounding. Scout moved between you and Grace, teeth bared.

“I think it’d be best if you go, Grace.” Tommy said with that tone in his voice that, if the situation weren’t so odd, would have you on your knees in front of him in a matter of minutes.

“I think so too.” Grace said, gaze never leaving you. “Goodnight,” she said as Tommy opened the door for her and slammed it behind her, locking the deadbolt.

“How odd.” you muse aloud as Scout went over to the window, growling the whole way that Grace walked down the driveway.

“Odd indeed, my love.” Tommy says, putting an arm around your shoulders and leading you to the kitchen, where he warmed your food up for you.

You were quiet, mind whirring with questions, assumptions. He brought the warm plate of food over to where you were sitting at the table in the kitchen. “Thank you,” you smile weakly up at him. He sits down across from you, forearms on the table. “You look tired.” you observe.

“I am,” he admits, reaching for a cigarette.

“Why was she standing so close to you?” you ask, eyeing him, every insecurity coming to the surface.

Tommy sighed, not meeting your gaze. “I don’t know. She was–saying something about "don't I wish I could go back to my old life’.” he said lowly, lighting his cigarette.

“And what’d you say to that?” you asked, tone dark.

“I didn’t have the chance to say anything, you came down the stairs.” he said, exhaling smoke.

“So what would you have said if I didn’t?” you asked, raising your voice.

“I would’ve said fuck no.”  he told you, expression serious, lips in a tight line, eyes not leaving yours.

You angrily stared at him for a while, breathing irregular, rage building. “Just as much as I am yours, Thomas Shelby, you are mine.” you tell him, jaw clenched.

“You’re absolutely fucking right,” he ground out. You stand up, taking your plate to the sink, mumbling that you weren’t hungry. He stalks over to you, turning you around, your back against the counter, a hand around your throat. “I am all yours,” he says slowly, his face close to yours. “And you are all mine,” he presses his forehead to yours. “For fucking ever.”

“Thomas,” you let out a breathy moan, a pool of heat forming between your legs. He had done this before–and it had both tested your trust in him and solidified the knowledge that he would never do anything to actually hurt you. Every ounce of strength and self-control he had in his body and mind was put to the test, and adrenaline coursed through your veins. You could see the lust in his eyes as he moved closer to you, crushing you further against the counter.

You had done this a few times since you had been married–this game of trust and brute force. You didn’t think you would enjoy it as much as you do. The first time it happened, it was by accident. The second time, you intentionally provoked Tommy, telling him you wanted to see the darker side of him, that you were tired of being treated like porcelain. He warned you it could end badly, but you were so lost in lust, you told him you didn’t care. Afterwards he held you, cleaned you up and whispered loving praises in your ear. You shook for a quarter hour after the second time the two of you played this game, your body wrung out from pleasure, all of your energy gone.

“I will never betray our love, do you understand?” he asks through gritted teeth, pulling you back in this moment. His grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, just the way you liked. You were thankful Scout was asleep at the front door, not wanting this moment ruined.

“Yes, Thomas,” you moan, and he releases his hold on your throat to hold your face in both of his hands, his lips crashing to yours in a searing kiss. The kiss is teeth and tongue and lips and he’s swallowing your moans as he begins to tear your clothes from your body. His hands move to grip your backside and you throw your legs around his waist and he carries you up to bed for the night.

The next morning, you wake up and Tommy isn’t in bed with you, which is odd. You roll over, groaning at the discomfort you feel in your limbs, assumedly from being tangled up in him all night. When you go to wash, you notice bruises across your skin and smile softly to yourself, thinking of the previous night's activities. You deeply enjoyed all parts of who your husband was, and allowing him to bare the darker parts of himself to you only made you love him all the more. The strength he summoned daily to overcome that darkness filled you with a sense of pride for what a good man he is. What a good man he is to you.

He knocked on the bathroom door and you opened it, wearing only your dressing gown. You were toweling off your face from where you had just washed it. His fingers ghosted over the bruises he left on you, a downcast expression on his face. “I’m sorry, my love.” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t be sorry,” you tell him, shooting him a naughty grin. “I quite enjoyed it.”

“Mm,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you. “That’s a good thing I suppose.”

You gasped when he pulled away from you, noticing a mark you had left on him, just underneath his collarbone. “Oh, Thomas, I’m sorry!” you giggled as he moved to inspect what you had discovered in the mirror.

A disgruntled sound left his lips. “Well, Mrs. Shelby, guess we’re both marked as one anothers for the foreseeable future, hm?”

~

“You went to their house?” Inspector Campbell ground out at his meeting with Grace the next day.

“I had no choice.” she replied softly.

“You have every choice!” he exclaimed, surprising himself with how loudly he said it. “If you can’t get close to the wife, and you can’t seduce Thomas, how exactly do you plan to get the information we need, Grace?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I can do this, Mr. Campbell.” she said.

“I trust you know what you are doing. These are dangerous people.”

“I am aware!” she snapped at him. “I was aware when I was met at his door by a gun and a dog that was eager to tear me from limb to limb.” she said, jaw clenched. “I was close last night, he was vulnerable. And his brother, the one who is really the one in charge of the Garrison, he’s easier to get information out of. More trusting.”

“Then by all means, get as much information out of him as you can, Grace. But you must link all of this to Thomas Shelby.”

“I will!” she insisted, growing frustrated at the man's lack of confidence in her.

“Of course you will.” he said, demeanor softening. “I just don’t want you harmed is all.”

“I was trained for this. Now I’m running late.” she said, turning the corner and disappearing into the streets of Birmingham.

[thomashelbyswife]

Polly Gray - Peaky Blinders S3E1

[crowleying]

Tommy's Smile | m! reader

Date: 06.10.2022

Pairing:  Tommy Shelby x m!reader

Reader’s pronouns: he/him

Words: 2.120

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Characters: m!reader, Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Harry Fenton

Genre: Romance

Length: Oneshot

Warnings: Internalized homophobia, mention of war, mention of injury (nothing descriptive)

Requested: No

Prompts: No

Summary: Polly knows you and Tommy have been in love with each other for years, so she decides to take matters into her hands.

A/N: It's my first time writing for Peaky Blinders and with a male reader. I’m sorry for the requests still waiting in my inbox, my inspiration is all over the place.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct any mistake and I would love to know what you think about it. If you like my works, please like and reblog them. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I posted a List of prompts, so check it out! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in my works.

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, PLEASE REBLOG THEM

Masterlist

Ao3

[ID: a gif of Tommy Shelby smiling. End ID]

After the war, everything had changed. The men that had come back weren't the ones that had left. They were haunted by nightmares; they drank a lot more and smiled a lot less, especially Tommy. He used to smile all the times, so bright every room would light up. Now, however, he rarely ever did. At first, Polly had even thought he wasn't smiling at all, but then she started noticing. The first time it happened was just after she had scolded him in his office. As she was leaving, you walked in and greeted her. She had almost missed the childish, amused smiles you and his nephew had exchanged then, so similar to those you used to share back when you were fifteen and you had managed to do something mischievous. From then on, she kept a close eye on the two of you, but you were too lost in each other to notice.

You had grown together. You would always play together and were joined at the hip since you were little kids. You were like a son to Polly. She and your mother used to joke about the fact that if they called one of you, both of you would appear. Polly was convinced you were two bodies sharing one soul. She was sure of it when you started to fall for each other without even knowing. You were young back then, and she thought you would have time to get your shit together and admit your love to the other, so she didn't say anything.

When Tommy announced his intention to volunteer for the war, she had looked at you, expecting you to join him, and you were already standing, looking at Tommy.

"I'm coming too," you had said, when what you really wanted to say was "I'm coming with you, I'll follow you anywhere, Tommy." The two of you had been so lost in each other's eyes that Polly was sure you didn't even hear when John and Arthur said they would come too. She had prayed for all of you that night and every night and day until the day you came back.

The day you had left, while the women and little Finn hugged the Shelby brothers, Polly had taken you to the side at the train station to ask you to take care of Tommy, and taking care of him you did.

In France, you didn't let anyone come between you. A month in and every officer knew you two weren't to be separated. You would make sure Tommy was eating and would share cigarette after cigarette with him when he couldn't sleep. You still gave him reasons to smile. And you saved his life.

You were shoving him out of the way before even realizing what was happening. You didn't die that day in Tommy's arms, but it did change your life. As you were hit by the bullet aimed at Tommy, he was hit with the realization that life was too short to spend the entirety of it trying to ignore his feelings for you.

He didn't listen to any of the people who told him he couldn't stay by your side the whole time you spent in the hospital. He was finally left alone when John and Arthur convinced one of the officers that he would be of no use on the field if you weren't there by his side.

When you woke up in the middle of the night after the surgery, Tommy was there. And hidden by the dark, he kissed you for the first time.

Keeping your relationship hidden when living in such close quarters with so many people hadn't been easy. Coming home had meant you could finally kiss and hug and fuck. Nobody knew about your relationship, but you didn't mind and you understood why Tommy didn't want anyone to know. You respected that but dreaded the day people would start to get suspicious and he would have to marry some girl to avoid the rumours.

You had no idea someone suspected of your relationship, but Polly noticed it all: smiles, fleeting touches, glances, winks. She never thought she would see his nephew wink or you blush like that. You were Tommy's smile. You clearly made him happy. So she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that her nephew had yet to make a move on you. It seemed like her intervention was needed.

It was the end of the day. You were sitting on Tommy's desk, laughing at something he had said. He was lounging back in his chair, relaxed as he could only be around you. A cigarette was being passed between the two of you.

Polly barged into the office. You jumped up from your spot and Tommy straightened in his chair.

"Thomas, a word," she demanded, barely acknowledging your presence.

"I'll see you later at the Garrison," you said quickly to Tommy, before disappearing quickly out of the door without even waiting to see him nod.

You were always included in family meetings, and your opinions were held in high consideration, but you didn't want to intrude on Tommy's relationship with his aunt, not when Polly was like that.

Tommy's eyebrows arched as he watched Polly carefully, trying to understand what had gotten in her this time. He slowly killed his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Polly," he started cautiously, but before he could continue, his aunt spoke.

"When are you going to put an end to this foolishness, Thomas?"

Tommy's heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about, Pol?" he asked, trying to sound more nonchalant than he felt. He leaned forward a bit. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, bracing for the impact. He knew the moment would come, sooner or later, when he would have to choose between you and his family. But the time was here and he wasn't ready. He would never be.

"Don't play dumb, Thomas, you know what I'm talking about... This," she gestured to intend the relationship between the two of you.

"I don't follow," he said.

He took a cigarette from the case you had given him before the war. It had seen everything you two had gone through. He stroked the cigarette on his lips before setting it between them. The motion always made you weak. He lit it up to keep himself busy and try to calm down. There was no way she could know. she had to be talking about something else.

"You two are grown men. I didn't say anything when you were young. I thought you just needed time to figure things out, but it's been a while and nothing has changed."

He slowly exhaled the smoke, giving up all hope she could be talking about anything else. "How long have you known?"

"Years. You were sixteen and no matter how many girls tried to win you over, you only had time and eyes for him."

"He was my best friend!" he spitted through gritted teeth.

"One day, after you had spent the whole afternoon together in your room doing God knows what, you came to me and asked what was the difference between friendship and love, Thomas. Do you remember?"

He nodded slowly and cursed himself. If Polly knew, other people might find out. You were in danger. He needed to make sure you were safe, and then he would think about Polly.

Before he could spiral, Polly spoke again. "When will you grow a pair and just tell him you love him?"

He was surprised, to say the least. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand to stop him. "I know you are afraid people won't respect you anymore if they find out or that someone will try to hurt him to get to you. All I'm saying is you can be open with your own family, Tommy. He deserves this, and you do too."

He closed his mouth, then opened it again. "What if Arthur tells someone when he is drunk, eh? What if little Finn goes around telling someone thinking it's no big deal?"

Polly shook her head and smiled gently. "Do you really think you can hide that forever? With the way you look at each other? I don't think so, Tom."

She turned to leave, but before she could, Tommy's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Is this your way to say you approve?" he asked.

She looked at her nephew and for a moment she saw the sixteen years old he once was, with those big blue eyes, that were your damnation, wide, looking for approval. She smiled and left.

That was a lot and completely unexpected. Tommy fell back into his chair and ran a hand over his face.

When he walked into the Garrison, Polly was already there, sipping a whisky at the counter. He nodded at Harry to have his whisky in the private room. He didn't notice you sitting at a secluded table, uncomfortably close to a girl John had introduced to you upon your arrival. However, when he saw you weren't in the little room with his brothers, he panicked, already expecting the worst.

"Where is he?" he demanded. His brothers stopped laughing at something, to look at him confused and worried. "Who?" Arthur cautiously asked, irritating Tommy further.

"Your lover is sitting on the other side of the room with a girl your brothers so kindly introduced to him," Ada piped up from her spot, a fake smile on her face and her arms crossed. Her eyes bore into him. She knew too. Damn, the women of that family.

Arthur and John's faces were comically confused.

Tommy stormed out of the room and spotted you. Your head snapped up when you heard the door bang open. Your eyes widened as he made his way over to you with long steps. He looked unstoppable and scary. That was probably what anyone else saw when they laid their eyes on Tommy Shelby. Everyone was looking at him, trying to understand what was going on. Harry winced behind the bar, already picturing the place after the fight that would very likely take place there in a matter of minutes.

Ada, John and Arthur had followed their brother out of the room and had stopped at the door to see what would happen.

He came to a stop in front of you.

"Tommy," you uttered, trying to find the words to explain the situation. You had tried to convince John that you didn't need help finding a girl, but Shelbys would never take no for an answer.

"Mister Shelby," a sickly sweet and flirty voice interrupted the staring contest. The girl next to you leaned forward to introduce herself to your boyfriend, whose complete attention was on you. He pushed her back into her chair. She let out an outraged cry, but he ignored her in favour of grabbing the front of the suit you were wearing, one you had bought together, and pulled you into a kiss. You didn't hear the gasps and murmurs coming from around you. You relaxed and your hands fell to his hips. You kissed him back until you both needed to breathe. You gave him the brightest smile, winning one back.

He wrapped an arm around your hips and turned towards the onlookers.

"This man is mine, and if any of you fuckers tries to take him away from me or says something nasty about him, I'll cut you personally."

The room was so silent you were sure you could have heard a pin drop.

"By order of the Peaky fookin' Blinders!" Arthur roared from the other end of the room.

Polly and Ada smiled.

"Fucking finally, Tom!" John chimed in, grinning. And just like that, the tension in the room dispersed.

"Harry, open that bottle of champagne!" Arthur boomed, making Tommy laugh. You loved seeing him so happy and carefree. You promised yourself you would do everything you could to make sure he would always be like that.

You two made your way over to the private room to join the other Shelbys on the celebration. John patted your back. "Welcome to the family."

"Are you implying I wasn't part of it before?" you asked, pretending to be offended.

"No, of course not, you know..."

"Relax, Johnny boy, I'm just messing with you." You pulled his cap down his face, making Ada laugh.

She pulled you into a hug.

Tommy and Polly observed the exchange amused. "You were wrong about one thing," Tommy told her. His eyes didn't leave you.

"What's that?"

"We've been together for some years now."

She looked at him surprised. "Thomas Michael Shelby, you..." She slapped his arm, making him laugh.

"Let's make a toast," Arthur said, after filling the glasses and handing them around. Tommy wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

"To Tommy finally getting his shit together." Ada raised her glass and you laughed.

Tommy kissed your temple.

[thesoldiersminute]

Anya Taylor-Joy for Vogue Australia (2022)

[lavender-romancer]

Deceiver

Part One Tommy Shelby x Reader cw: slow burn, violence, swearing

You've been involved with the Peaky Blinders business for a few years now, undiscovered as a woman posing as a man. Now the Shelby boys have grown suspicious of you and want you found out.

an: set in season one

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

Hiding under a disguise had become second nature for you these days, you didn't slip up, you didn't find it hard to lie and you never under any circumstances made any exceptions to the rule of being secretive about your identity. You weren't y/n y/sn, you were Eddie Thompson, your hair was short and black shaved on the sides, and ruffled forward on top. You wore shirts, waistcoats, and trousers with socks in your boxers to give you a false cock. You flirted with women, never took any home and you drank like your dead father used to every night. You wore razors in your cap and a pocket watch attached to your waistcoat with a short gold chain. You learned how to bind your chest and flatten it completely but allow your chest to still look muscular. There never was a better cover, but you didn't do it to spy or cheat or deceive at least for the wrong reasons. The reason you did it was because you wanted agency, taking your dead cousin's name was easier than it should've been but there was no one around in your family to protest.

"We need some boys down in the Garrison, rowdy ones to get everyone riled up about fucking Campbell," Tommy announced at the front of the betting shop where all the Peaky boys had gathered "We need some fucking unity in this place or that man's going to separate us all."

"Oh we've got no problem being fucking rowdy, 'ave we boys!" Arthur yelled with a cheer rousing from the crowd before Tommy.

"Alright, Eddie, John, Scudboat, Lovelock, Danny, Arthur and whoever else is willing to put out some good fucking press for us and against Campbell." Tommy straightened his blazer and looked toward you, you lifted your whisky to your mouth looking over your glass at him.

There was a respect between you and Tommy that had been there since he employed you, you weren't old enough to have fought in France but you worked in explosives as a teenager and were very helpful. Tommy could see your value from the moment you stepped into the shop looking for work, your verbal CV was glowing with value. Questions never seemed to arise due to the impressive cover story you had built for yourself from an extremely young age so you could survive in a world of men. You had absolutely nothing in your possession that would point to you being a woman, no mementos of your time before your deception started and you never changed that fact. You were quieter than some of the other boys until you got a drink in you but it allowed you to assess situations and know your next move that wouldn't raise suspicion.

"I've got a job for you," Tommy told you as the other boys began to leave, he sat down on one side of the table and you sat on the other. You spread out your legs and leant over your knees, taking off your cap and ruffling your hair.

"What have you got for me, Mr Shelby?" You asked.

"I need you to follow Billy Kimber, take off your hat and clean yourself up a bit. You're gonna need to look the part for this role," Tommy took out a cigarette and you tossed over your matches "You have proved very valuable since my return and I want you to keep doing that."

"And what am I doing following Kimber?" You raised an eyebrow and lit your cigarette.

"I need to know where he's going, who he's meeting even if it's just the types of people he's with. I want to know his every move today, especially when he hears about how we've been fixing his races, he's going to be pretty pissed off." Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and put his feet up on the table.

"Sounds like an interesting one," you held the lit cigarette between your lips "and what is the aim of this intelligence? Anything you want me to look out for?"

"I want to know how he reacts, how he… how we're getting under his skin. He's gonna be in this restaurant, at table 4 at around 4pm. Before that I want you to follow him on the train before listening and noting what he says, then come straight back." Tommy looked you in the eyes and you nodded, picking up the pieces of paper he'd given you about the locations.

After changing your look into a more slick back and clean look you headed off to the train station, onto the 2:30 towards Worcester. You saw Kimber's men head into the fourth carriage, you headed into the third and walked through to the fourth to sit with your back facing Kimber on the other side of their booth. Lighting up a cig you looked out the window and listened intently to Kimbers conversation.

Tommy always knew there was something off with you, he hadn't been able to put his finger on it till today. Your eyes, they had a certain femininity that he hadn't noticed before until you looked at him over your glass. It was different, your eyes had looked so stern before that the change was easily noticeable that he'd sent you on a minor errand at the chance Kimber would let something slip.

"Arthur, John, in here." Tommy called as he entered the Garrison and the boys sat in the private room as he closed the door.

"What's going on, Tom?" Arthur asked.

"I believe we have a rat in our ranks and I want to stamp them out." Tommy poured himself a whisky.

"Who the fuck dares rat us?" John seethed.

"I think it's Eddie," Tommy paused. "I've sent him off to report on Kimber, so we can discuss what we're planning."

"We're gonna cut off his fucking cock is what were gonna do!" Arthur yelled louder than he should have.

"Yeah, we can fuck him up one by one," John laughed and Tommy looked at him with a straight face.

"You two are too bloody excited for what the situation is, someone we thought was fucking helpful. Fuck, loyalty is hard to find these days." Tommy rubbed his forehead.

"We're still gonna fuck him up, Tom." Arthur grinned at John and Tommy couldn't help but mentally agree, he was too fucking angry.

You left the restaurant at around 6'oclock and headed back to Small Heath, you hadn't really got much from Kimber as he just talked about women and blow. It was a fucking boring day and you wished you were down the pub instead. As soon as you got back to Small Heath you headed to the Garrison and sighed in relief at the noise that was coming out of the doors. Walking in you ordered two whiskeys and downed one, holding the other in your hand as you turned around and greeted some of your Peaky boys.

"The fuck is going on with your hair, you twat," Scudboat asked with a laugh.

"Ah just a bit of fucking dress up, you know I'm posing as a twat so I thought I should look the part too." You raised an eyebrow and held out your cigarette in your mouth for Scudboat to light.

"You're fucking mental," he told you, as he lit your cigarette you took a drag. You sat next to him, placing your drink on the table and breathed out slowly.

"You know today I-" you were interrupted

"Eddie, fucking here. Now," Arthur yelled and you turned your head expecting a smiling Arthur but instead he looked like hell. You picked up your drink and walked towards the side room.

"What's going on?" You asked, taking a drag.

"We need to take a little walk," Tommy told you with stern eyes.

The boys walked you towards the shop and you couldn't help but feel like something fucking awful was about to happen to you. John and Arthur were behind you as Tommy walked Infront, you were surrounded by the brothers and even though you wanted to run you knew you couldn't.

"In there," Arthur told you, pointing to his office and you walked in, "sit down." Arthur nodded towards the chair in the middle of the room. The air was thick and tense as ever, you were going to die, you just knew it.

"What's going on here then boys?" You asked, trying to keep the tone light but it wasn't working. You ruffled your hair, the gel making your scalp hurt. Arthur suddenly grabbed you by your chin and forced your head back harshly.

"So who the fuck do you think you are?" Arthur asked, his face was close to yours and he glared into your eyes that went wide.

"It's a good question, brother." John added, he lit a cigarette close to your face and the heat made you wince.

"Who the fuck are you?" Arthur yelled and you didn't know what to say. He let go of your face and you looked up, seeing Tommy in the shadow near the door. Arthur punched you in the nose and your head flew back, blood running back into your nose and back out again.

"I don't know what you want to fucking hear! You know who I am!" You yelled back at him and Arthur shook his head.

"I'll ask you again, who the fuck are you!" Arthur screamed and when you just stared at him through angry eyes he punched you again.

"Stand him up," Tommy instructed and John forced you to your feet

"So this is it then Tommy? Now time for me to fucking die eh?" You asked, your arms held by your side by John as you struggled against him. Arthur pulled your head back by your hair and it left your neck completely exposed.

"Well if you tell me the truth it doesn't have to be the last time we see each other, does it?" He walked close to you and took off his cap. Tommy unbuttoned your trousers and let them open, revealing your boxers and you panicked, kicking your leg out to collide with Tommys leg.

"I don't fucking think so," Arthur forced you to sit back down on the chair with your legs opened "Too scared to loose your cock eh? You fucking traitor." Arthur flicked up his knife and ran the blunt side against your neck.

"Fuck off, Arthur. If you're going to kill me just fucking cut my throat, I'm no traitor and I never have been!" You yelled in his face and Arthur went to punch your cock but instead found a soft impact.

"What the fuck," Arthur put his hand on your crotch, knife in hand and you shifted uncomfortably, trying to get out of their grasps "He's got no fucking balls, Tom."

"What?" Tommy sounded like he would laugh and you tried to stand up but the Shelby brothers held you down, your neck still exposed.

"Don't fucking kill me, I- FUCK. I'll tell you alright, fuck." You pushed off their grip that had lessened and buttoned up your trousers.

"What the fuck is going on?" Tommy asked.

"I'm, fuck. Okay. It's not my real name alright, but I'm not a fucking spy. I'm deceptive but I'm not a fucking spy, I love this job and this family like my fucking own. I'm a woman," You looked into Tommys eyes and he had to admit it wasn't what he suspected.

"This is fucking insane!" John bursted out laughing and Arthur joined in.

"You're a fucking woman?" Arthur yelled as he laughed and John was inconsolable with laughter.

"He's a fucking woman, oh my life what is this shit?" John had to lean on Arthur for support because he was falling over with merriment.

"Still got a bigger cock than both of you out together though," you muttered and Arthur held your face up.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Arthur seethed with a vision of humor in his eyes.

"Come on brother, can't beat up a woman who you know will beat ya!" John was laughing again and Arthur joined in, letting go of your face and smacking John on the shoulder.

"Now just piss off. I'm still angry you tried to fucking kill me," you gave John a playful push and he just laughed.

"Alright, leave us now brothers." Tommy told his brothers and they roared with laughter as they walked out the door.

Tommy poured two drinks and handed you one, you turned the chair around to face his desk. Tommy downed his drink and poured another.

"So, who are you really then, Eddie?" He asked, the fake name rolling off his tongue so sarcastically.

"Y/n y/sn, most of everything else was true. Every family I know is dead, it was my cousins name and I couldn't live as a single fucking woman in this city. I mean fuck, when my parents died I inherited everything and it wasn't even enough to get by a year. I was 13 and I had to completely fucking change." You took a swig of whisky and sniffed before wiping the blood from your nose on your cuff.

"How long since you've gone by that name?" Tommy asked, lighting a cig.

"8 years since someone's called me my god given name," You looked into Tommy's eyes and sighed "I'll pack up soon though don't worry, I can't stay here anymore now."

"Since when do you make the rules around here, y/n?" Tommy asked and your eyes narrowed at the use of your real name.

"Don't, Tommy. It's not fair." You looked at him with sad eyes and he smiled.

"You're not getting away from us that easily. I'll tell you that for free. My brothers are always saying I should take a woman, maybe you're just the type of deception I want in my life." Tommy rested the cigarette in the ash tray and stood up, walking towards you. You looked up at him as he approached you.

"You're going soft," you paused "and who says I'm even interested?"

"That look you gave me this morning, I knew there was something different behind those eyes." Tommy lifted up your chin gently so you were looking into his eyes again.

"You act like this wild stallion who can't be tamed with all this damage. I think you just need a good trainer," you were mocking him and he didn't seem to mind. Tommy held your chin a bit tighter and got close to your face.

"And you think that's you, eh?" He whispered

"I think I'm the most enticing person you've ever met," you whispered back.

"I always thought you were a pretty lad, might make an even prettier woman. Not as if I'm scared of some short fucking hair is it." As he spoke you could see the slightest of smiles on his lips and you wondered how long he'd been looking at 'Eddie' like that.

"You'll never be able to figure me out and I think that's healthy for you to experience every now and then considering how fucking vague you are." You raised an eyebrow and pulled his hand off your face.

"Hmm, hadn't met a better man who'd dealt with explosives before you and I haven't met a woman either. I can't say you don't interest me." Tommy sat back down and you scoffed.

"Tommy Shelby handing out a free compliment? What is the world coming to then?" You slid you glass across the desk for Tommy to refill it "I might not be a man but I know how they tick, I know how they think and you are the most interesting mind I've ever encountered."

"Fucking flaterry from someone who was my best footsoldier a moment ago," Tommy smiled and you raised an eyebrow. "Where do we go from here then eh?" Tommy asked in a low voice.

"I don't know if that's my decision, Tom." You leant over your knees, undid your top button and tried to relax.

"Men are free to do as they will in the world, I would hardly be fair to take that away from you because you are a woman. This business was run by women before us," Tommy took another drink.

"I don't want to be a fucking bookmaker or a chalky or any other shit that you get people to do. I've proven myself time and time through and I don't expect to be treated any differently." You held your hands together and looked at Tom.

"I will treat you a bit different as Y/n but I don't have another demolition option who I can trust won't blow my cock off altogether. Well, I suppose you've figuratively blown your own cock off now haven't you?" Tommy ran his tongue along the top line of his teeth as he looked you up and down.

"You seem almost too happy to find out that I don't have a cock?" You sounded questionable and Tommy looked curiously at you.

"Well don't most men act so close to their friends it almost seems they want to fuck them? I might actually get the chance," Tommy gazed at you through sky-blue eyes that were often in your dreams, or maybe he haunted you in your nightmares. Either way, you didn't know where to go from here with him.

next part

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Taglist:

@hopefulinlove @kathrinemelissa @wolfieellsworld @archivallyfound09 @globetrotter28 @buttercup32sstuff @teamfreeavacados @just-a-blackhole @sabbbyn @sillyfreakfanparty @lovelyreader22 @leaked-adrenaline @ghxst-heart @just-a-blackhole

Peaky Taglist:

@smile-sugar @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315

[izabesworld]

Peaky Blinders Fan-Fiction Help!

As someone part of the Roma community, I’m trying my hardest to spread awareness of the struggles the Roma community face, and how to help people make respectful choices when writing pieces about us.

I want to try my best to give you accurate names, to tell you what we did in the time period and how we did it. I’m focusing primarily on Peaky Blinders as I know that is what brought Roma so much attention, and it would be so easy to misinterpret us.

I’m going to split it into topics that you can find, with links for east access. I’ll give you popular jobs, popular names (which are often more “normal” than you’d think) and how we lived our lives.

I want to do anything I can to make sure our culture is represented, and make sure it is represented well! <3

A post that may interest you: Peaky Blinders and the Roma community.

GENERAL RROMA CONTENT

ROMA NAMES (FIRST, LAST AND MIDDLE)

ROMANI NAMES PT2

SPIRITUAL BELIEFS

COMMON ROMA JOBS

ROMA ATTITUDES (HOW TO PRESENT US IN YOUR WRITING)

ENGLISH ROMANI LANGUAGE

HOW TO REFER TO ROMA

CURTESY WARNINGS

ROMA AND CABBAGE

WORLD WAR ONE - ROMA JOBS

THE ROMA FLAG

MY TAKE ON THE WORD GYPSY

APPLEBY HORSE FAIR

APPLEBY HORSE FAIR (2)

ROMANI FOODS

PALMISTRY AND TEA

CONCERNS PEOPLE HAD WITH MY POSTS

Misrepresentation.

Dismissal of the bad.

țigan/cigan

ROMA NEWS

16 year old Romany boy shot by Greek police.

Rroma Heritage Month (June 2023)

PEAKY BLINDERS ROM

What dialect would the peaky blinders speak?

Shelbys and religion.

Peaky Blinder S6 culture

[edmundo-diaz]

[dreamsandscenes]

My Thoughts on

ESME SHELBY

*spoilers ahead for S1 - S6 of Peaky Blinders*

Ah Esme, how I wish I’d seen more of you. When compared with the other Shelby wives (Linda, Grace, Lizzie), I don’t think Esme was really used as much within the story. She was left more in the background for some reason.

When we first see Esme, she’s being married off to John, apparently because she was a “bit wild”. I love the scene at the wedding when John and Esme first see each other. You can see the pleasant surprise on both of their faces, and this is the beginning of their mutual attraction, because as we see throughout their time together, they really fancied each other.

Was the marriage the right thing for Esme? No. I don’t really think so. Through the marriage, John gains a wife and a new mother for his four children who have been running wild since their birth mother died, an alliance with the Lee family (which Tommy wanted), and if I remember correctly, a car from Esme’s father.

What did Esme gain from the marriage? Well, I suppose we could say that she gains the security of a husband (which was an important thing in that time), albeit John is also quite wild, cheats on her, and is a criminal. She loses her freedom, which was clearly what her family wanted because they didn’t agree with her actions. In that time, going “a bit wild” is probably very tame compared to what people do nowadays. She also gained four young children, that she was now in charge of raising, along with the rest of the Shelby family as her new relatives. I’d never say that she didn’t love her stepchildren - she clearly did, and she took them with her when she left in S4 - but it’s a lot to suddenly become a stepmother to four young children.

The interactions we see between Esme and the Shelby clan (from what I remember) are never overly positive. Sure, she could get along with them decently enough when needed, but she didn’t seem close to anyone.

Her interactions with Polly range from Polly holding a knife to her neck in season 2, to them seemingly getting along well enough to work together - and strike together - in season 3. We don’t see what their relationship was like in the years between S3 and S4, but they clearly never got any closer, as Polly didn’t seem devastated when Esme left after John’s death.

Another Shelby that she shared a few scenes with was Tommy, and I think it would be generous to say that she disliked him. In S2, she seemed to respect him, and spoke at the family meeting about not wanting them to start expanding the business into London. Her reasons were understandable; she was afraid for her husband’s safety and she knew how dangerous London would be. And yet, everybody just brushed her off like she was an idiot.

All she wanted was for her family to go on the road or live in the country and be safe. She tried to convince Tommy that it was the best course of action, and in return, he grabs her face and tells her that if she talks about it again, he’ll cut her from the family. It’s overly harsh and personally, I wanted Esme to slap him when he did that, but of course she didn’t, so oh well. 🤷‍♀️

It seems like she properly hated him after the end of S3, when he almost got John killed. As we see, Esme is always loyal to John and anyone who crosses him, crosses her. She’s protective of the ones she loves, so it isn’t a shocker that she hates Tommy for mistreating him. She even charges at Tommy in the morgue after John’s death, grief riddled and furious.

I can’t remember much about Esme’s appearances in S6, probably because I did not like that season, so I’m not going to speak much on that time or her scenes with Tommy. She doesn’t really have a relationship with Arthur or Ada, so I can’t really say much about them either.

Her relationship with John did seem to become genuine, despite it starting off as an arranged marriage. I’ve seen some people say that John and Esme never loved each other because they didn’t choose each other and they were basically forced to marry each other, but I would say that from what I saw, I do think Esme loved him. (I’ll talk about John’s side of things if I make a post about him). She tried to keep him safe, despite his lifestyle, and when he died, I feel like no one can say that she wasn’t devastated by the loss. That scene right after John is shot dead outside their house where she runs out and lays her head on his shows how heartbroken she was.

Ironically, after wanting to escape to the country for a while because she believed it would be safer and better for her family, their country house is where John dies in S4. I don’t think that she would’ve ever found peace or safety as long as she was married to John and connected to the Shelby’s. She only managed to get the life she wanted for herself and her family after John’s death.

Esme was a strong woman for making that decision to leave the Shelby family. Perhaps it would’ve been easier for her to stay within their circle as John’s widow, but staying would’ve meant being around the family and Esme clearly didn’t want any of them around her children. So, she packed up all six of her kids - not that we ever get an official number or even the names of their kids, but I’m pretty sure that they had six altogether - and went away.

While the loss of her husband was awful, in the end, I’m happy that Esme finally got to make her own decisions about her life, and get her freedom back. When we last saw her in S6, she was on the road with some of her kin, living freely, and I would say that out of all the characters, she probably got one of the best endings.

[twvstedsouls]

S1.01 - PEAKY BLINDERS

[bleekbacchanal]

One of the most gorgeous (and underrated) dresses in cinema.

[peakyblinded]

PEAKY BLINDERS FASHION [9/??] Polly in her ‘ready to fuck your wife’ suit and fedora

requested by @hotvillaindaddies

[sneakyblinders]

the royal wedding of small heath

A/N: I was going to post this in one big fic but it’s so long... and I’m not finished quite yet lol enjoy pt 1. PT 2 HERE warnings: soft tommy. for my tommy and his darling wife!au. language, mild sexual themes.  1.9k words

The Garrison was bustling with people. People milled about, this way and that, people Tommy recognized, and people he didn’t. The musicians that Arthur had hired for the event were fantastic, just the exact music Tommy had wanted. None of the new stuff, and all of the stuff Tommy and his brothers held dear to their hearts.

Family members from near and far gathered here today after the rehearsal to celebrate with Tommy and his bride.

He made his way over to the bar, where Harry was rapidly pouring shots for a group of men lined up at the bar Tommy could only assume to be some of your cousins. Not men he knew. “Gentlemen,” he greeted them.

“Mr. Shelby, we appreciate your generosity tonight.” The oldest of them said, leaning over the other two to shake Tommy’s hand.

“It’s my pleasure.” Tommy told him before asking Harry for another bottle of whiskey for the table.

“She looks mighty pretty tonight, Mr. Shelby,” Harry told him, handing him the bottle.

“That she does, Harry. That she does.” Tommy glanced back over his shoulder, hearing your laugh as your sister told some ridiculous story from when you were children to John and Finn.

He turned back towards your table, bottle in his hand. He made his way through the crowd, beginning to itch in his suit. He was far too worn out from all the people that were abso-fucking-lutely everywhere this week. People from your side of the family had started pouring in on Monday from all over England, the United States and fucking France to witness the Shelby wedding. The Royal Wedding of Small Heath is what the Birmingham papers had called it when your engagement announcement ran in the papers. Your mother had bought every paper she could get her hands on and sent the clipping to every family member she could think of.

“It’s pretty rare that someone like us marries someone like Thomas Shelby.” your mother had told you, eyes peering at you over her glasses.

Someone like us.

You’d been raised in London, your parents both modest people. Your father has worked as a banker ever since you could remember. He made a decent living, but with you, your older sister and brother and mother to take care of, there was never really much extra money to go around. You lived well, and had everything you needed, but the wants were never really attended to.

So when you accidentally met Tommy one evening on your way back home in London, your mother insisted it was fate. And a few months later, you deemed that she was right.

Tommy returned to your table, setting the bottle of whiskey down. John snatched it up and poured his and Arthur’s glasses full once more. “Are you doing alright, Sweetheart?” he asked, adjusting in his seat, his arm around you.

“Yes,” you beam up at him. “Are you?” you ask, a hand on his thigh.

“Never better.” he told you, love pouring from his chest.

“If I see a more lovesick man I’ll drag him here so you can have a competition,” John laughed. Esme elbowed him in the ribs. “What? I’ve never seen ‘im like this.” John told his wife.

“Pay him no mind, love.” Esme told you. You giggled, squeezing Tommy’s thigh under the table.

“I generally don’t.” you told her.

“And that, Tommy, is why we love her!” Arthur cackled, raising his glass to his lips and throwing back the whole glass of whiskey.

Your mother apprehensively approached the table. She’d been here for a bloody week and a half and Tommy had barely been able to get his hands on you for fear of her popping up and claiming your whole relationship to be an absolute travesty. “Dearie, your father and I are getting quite tired, would it be alright if we retired for the evening?”

Tommy sighed when you stood up to hug your mother. “Of course, of course. Tommy,” you turned to look at your fiance. “Would one of your brothers escort them to their lodgings?” you asked.

“I’ll do it, love. Happy to.” Arthur told you, standing up. “Anything for you, love.” he threw you a tipsy smile.

“Thank you, Arthur. Mother, remember, we must be at the estate by nine.” you reminded her.

“Yes, of course. We will be there.”

Your mother hugged you goodbye, your father waiting patiently by the door. Arthur lumbered after them, making sure they got there safely. It was only a block away, but stranger things have happened in Small Heath.

After your parents left, other guests started to trickle out of the Garrison, whether to settle in for the night or go get rowdy somewhere else, no one knew. Tommy quietly observed the rest of the people, smoking his cigarette, arm around your shoulders as you talked to your sister.

“Are you ready, sister?” Emile asked.

“For what?” you asked with a confused look on your face.

“To be a wife, of course. And all it entails.” she told you, a suggestive tone in her voice.

“Emile!” you scolded her, eyeing Tommy, who acted as if he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to your conversation. “Not here!”

“Thomas, wait ‘till you see the things our cousins from France bought her.”

“Emile!” you scolded again, cheeks flushing hot. Thankfully John and Finn had gotten up to fetch more beer.

“It’s alright, love, everybody knows you won’t be out in public for at least a week after tomorrow.” Tommy told you, a devious look on his face.

“Thomas!” you scolded, a look of disbelief on your face. “Ganged up on by my sister and fiance. Unbelievable.”

“We’ve been in cahoots this whole time, sister. How do you think he picked the ring the right size?” Emile asked, peering at you over her wine glass.

You look at Tommy, who was smirking. “She’s right, love. Phoned her and asked the second I knew I was going to propose.”

“Which was when?” you asked.

He leaned in closer to you, lips to your ear. “That night after I took you to that restaurant in London–what was it called–”

“Wiltons.” you reminded him.

“Ah, yes, Wiltons. I took you back to my hotel and–”

“Okay, I know what day you’re talking about now.” you tell him, pulling away from his lips. He’s smirking at you. “Cheeky man.” you tell him as he lights a cigarette.

“Only bad thing about him, he smokes like a freight train.” Emile joked.

Tommy smiled, cigarette in his mouth. “You get used to it.” you tell her, thankful Tommy was tolerant of your sister's childish remarks.

You sat in silence, Tommy’s thumbs drawing sweet circles on the back of your hand as your sister went to find your brother. “Do you think everyone will behave tomorrow?” you ask Tommy.

“They will, my love. I will make sure of it.” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Where is Ada?” you ask, suddenly noticing her absence.

“She said they will not be making an appearance until tomorrow.” Tommy said, rolling his eyes.

“Because of Freddie?” you ask.

“Yes, because of Freddie.” he confirms, putting the butt of his cigarette in the ash dish.

“It’s not fair to Karl, keeping him from his family.” you tell Tommy, snuggling closer into his side.

Tommy sighs. “I know, my love.”

Polly comes over towards the table, a smile on her face. “Are you two ready for tomorrow? Dress all picked up?”

“Yes. It’s hanging in the room at the estate.” you tell her.

“Thomas, did you pick up–”

“Our tuxedo’s from Mr. Zhang, yes, Pol. I did.” he says flatly.

“The baker came to me this morning and said he would deliver the cake around noon.” she rattled off all the delivery times of the various things. Flowers by nine, musicians would arrive by four, and the estate would be bathed with white roses and greenery by one in the afternoon. Polly had been an integral part of the wedding planning, going with you to every dress appointment, every catering and cake testing. Tommy waved it all off, telling you, “Whatever you want, Darling, all I care about is the bride at the end of the aisle.”

A little before midnight, the party came to a close. Everyone left, leaving you, Polly and Tommy to discuss various particulars of the impending wedding day. The musicians packed up their things, and Tommy handed them a rather thick wad of money.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby.” the bassist said.

“Thank you, you all did a wonderful job tonight.” Tommy told them sincerely, showing them to the door and locking it behind them.

“Alright, you two might as well start saying your goodbyes. Can’t see each other until she walks down the aisle, Thomas. It’s bad luck.” Polly told him. “I’ll wait outside, love.” she told you, walking to the car that John was waiting in. You were going to spend your last night as a single woman at Polly’s place, sleeping in Thomas’ old bedroom, that he had only just vacated, telling you his wedding present to you was rather grand.

He stood up and walked over to the old gramophone and began to play one of John’s new records. Some of the slow jazz that was popular then. “Will you dance with me?” he asked, turning to you, eyes straining to make out all your features in the dark.

A few lonely candles were still lit, giving the pub a warm glow. “Yes, Mr. Shelby, I will.” you stand up to meet him in the middle of the pub.

He pulls you into his chest and you rest your head against his heart. “I swear to you,” he whispers lowly. “I will spend all my life loving you, and you alone. You are the single best thing to happen to me, my angel.”

You smile against his chest, feeling his heart beating in his chest. “I love you, Thomas Shelby.” you tell him, melting into him.

“I love you.” he whispers.

Your ring sparkles in the faint rays of light, casting small rainbows on the ceiling. It was far bigger a diamond than you thought practical, but Tommy would not hear of a smaller diamond. You were quite nervous to see the wedding band he had picked but he assured you that you would love it.

“I can’t wait to see you in your tuxedo tomorrow.” you tell him, looking up at him.

He smiled softly at you. “Enjoy every minute of tomorrow, Sweetheart. Anything you want, you can have, okay?”

“Will life always be like this?” you ask.

“Like what?” he asked in return.

“Anything you want, in the blink of an eye. The snap of my fingers.” you say, still in disbelief.

“That is my goal, love.” he tells you, reaching down to kiss your lips.

The kiss is cut short by John bursting through the doors. “Will you let her come on? Polly won’t quit complainin’ about the cold. You have your whole lives to kiss.”

Tommy kissed you again, John throwing his arms in the air and huffing before turning around to walk out the doors again. You hear him faintly yell to Polly, “He won’t let go of her, Pol!”

“I better go.” you chuckle, looking into Tommy’s eyes.

“Sleep well, my blushing bride.” Tommy teases you, pressing one last kiss to your lips.

“Goodnight, Thomas.” you tell him.

He walks you to the car, where John is thoroughly annoyed now. “See you tomorrow!” Tommy says, a mischievous grin on his face.

[thomashelbyswife]

Polly Gray - Peaky Blinders S2E1

[loveisalwaystheanswer]

Grace "don't mess with me" Burgess

[thesoldiersminute]

Anya Taylor-Joy for Dior Beauty (2022)