Thomas Shelby - Blog Posts
"You can change what you do, but you can’t change what you want."
– Thomas Shelby
someone said Tommy as Madonna and it haunted me for a month
Peaky Blinders, S6
Peaky Blinders, S4
: The Language Of Flowers :
"People trust what is beautiful, what is soft. But flowers can poison, too." – Lily Calloway
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"When I was little, my mother told me that good girls are loved, and bad girls are left behind. But I watched the world, and I learned—good girls get nothing. Smart girls take everything."
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Tucked away in the heart of Birmingham, Calloway’s Garden is a charming little shop where the air is thick with the scent of lilies, violets, and roses. People walk in for fresh-cut flowers, never questioning why some bouquets come wrapped in whispers and secrets. A flower shop is a good place for business—the real kind. The kind no one talks about.
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"She’s a liar, but a useful one." – Thomas Shelby
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Lily Calloway is not the woman people think she is. A social butterfly, warm and disarming, she knows exactly what to say to make people lean in, listen, trust. But beneath the charm is a mind that sees, calculates, and survives. She’s not cruel—cruelty is too messy, too blunt. She prefers subtlety, making people think they’re in control when she’s already three steps ahead.
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Theo Carter : He was her brother’s best friend. Now he’s hers. He came back from the war when Charles didn’t, and she doesn’t know if she keeps him close out of loyalty or something heavier.
Janifer Smith : Her partner-in-crime, her best friend, and sometimes the devil on her shoulder. They are two sides of the same coin—one soft-spoken, the other bold, but both dangerous in their own way.
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Tommy Shelby?— She respects him, and he sees potential in her. But she knows what men like him do to people who get too close. And Lily Calloway? She wasn’t made to be anyone’s pawn.
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Writer’s Note:
So, this is my first-ever OC, and honestly? I have no idea what I’m doing, but we’re rolling with it. Lily Calloway has been living in my head rent-free for weeks, so it’s about time I let her loose into the world. She’s manipulative but not cruel, charming but not harmless, and definitely not the kind of woman you want to underestimate.
I’ll probably be dropping the first chapter in 2-3 days (if I don’t get distracted by life ). I have the whole story outlined—25 chapters, slow-burn, morally grey choices, and a whole lot of drama. So, if you’re into that, stick around.
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Also, I’d love to hear your thoughts on Lily! Is she giving femme fatale or just a girl trying to survive in a man’s world? Maybe both. We’ll see.
✨ Bye and take care, Hope you all have a good day ✨
Magic in her Blood: story concept
(This is an idea I played around with. I might make a small series out of it if some people are interested)
Please do not replicate my work anywhere without my permission :)
*
Smoke filled the streets of Small Heath, workmen feeding coal to metal beasts, breathing in the toxic air. The noise of their exploits echoed over the slated roofs, carrying for miles, and allowing for a cloaked figure to pass by silently.
Her eyes flashed with each burst of flame, catching the depth and piercing brightness of their blue. A pointed, angled hat cast shadow over her features, the glint of steel on the brim a warning to all those who are prey, and obscuring everything but the subtly smirking lips; painted blood red.
She passed through Small Heath with no opposition, no second glances, for all those who saw her, knew. This woman was one of them.
Granddaughter of a Romani king, princess of the Peaky Blinders, and all round predator. Sarah Shelby walked the streets of Birmingham like royalty, because that's exactly what she was.
The doors to the Garrison swung open, and heads came up, only to dip down again in respect. And fear. A few newcomers stared, until one of their friends shoved their heads to the table.
She swept along the bar, plucking whiskey and a glass on her way. Her heels clicked off the wooden floor, a quiet power spilling out from the smooth, rolling silk that hugged her figure. Equally dark curls bounced upon her shoulders as she turned her head, one last look falling over the pub before she vanished into the private booth.
The Shelby boys all looked up, grins appearing on their faces and papers being set down. To those outside, nothing would have shocked them more than to know she returned the smiles.
"Good to see you again, boys," she said, sitting adjacent from the eldest sibling, Arthur.
"And you, sister," Thomas said, "we'd begun to think ourselves too common for your tastes."
"Oh, not at all," Sarah replied, matching the smirk he wore as she poured herself a drink, "I merely had some business of my own to attend," she said, and crossed her legs.
The air, filled with smoke from their cigarettes, tasted bitter on her tongue. Something hung there, unspoken, interrupted. It seeped into the old wood, spinning around the circular booth like a wailing spirit, begging for freedom.
Eyes narrowed, Sarah regarded her brothers with a tilted head. "What's happened?"
John chuckled, glancing over at Thomas and bouncing his leg. Little humour was to be found in his face, only a rather satisfied "I-told-you-so" gleam in his eye.
The two elders exchanged a brief look, and Arthur gestured towards her, raising another cigarette to his lips and leaving Thomas to answer the question.
"There is a copper from Belfast sticking his nose in our business," he explained, hands clasped on the table he leant on, "and he's causing problems."
"Now the barmaid makes sense," Sarah murmured, sipping her whiskey and gazing at it as the liquid swirled.
The brothers straightened in their seats. Thomas wet his lips. "What do you mean?"
She raised her eyes to them, one eyebrow arched. "A copper from Belfast comes along, poking his snout where it isn't wanted, and a beautiful Irish girl suddenly drops into Harry's lap; surely you don't think it's a coincidence?"
John and Arthur laughed, but quickly stopped, noticing the missing voice. Thomas stared at his sister, heart hammering in his chest, and fell back against the bench.
"Grace is not working for Inspector Campbell," he said, in a tone that seemed directed more at himself than anyone else.
Sarah drew her wand from its sheath at her side, rolling the cool instrument in her grasp. The familiar touch sent gentle sparks flying as she waved it through the air.
They each gulped, glancing at one another and backing up, further away from the weapon. But Thomas met her eyes, and smirked.
"Let's find out, shall we?"