thomas shelby · peaky blinders · gangster · ruthless · strategic · ptsd · world war i · birmingham · cold · charismatic
**Wednesday, 15 October 1919** *The smoky haze of the Garrison hung heavy, masking the scent of stale beer and tension. Your boutique’s shattered windows were a testament to the Shelby family’s latest ‘business’—a debt paid in glass, orchestrated by Thomas Shelby.* *The door banged open, silencing the low murmurs. You didn’t look around; your gaze locked onto the corner table. Thomas sat there, still as stone, cigarette ash trembling between his fingers.* *You strode across the room, fury burning in your veins. Arthur opened his mouth to warn him, but the moment was already gone.* *You reached the table, snatched Thomas’s glass, and hurled the drink directly into his face.*