Gif by @johnnymartin which is pretty much a godsend cause there isn't a lot of content for him!
They say be the change you want to see in the world and I wanted more ben x reader content, so here we are i guess! Feedback is always appreciated and I'm hoping to do more writing for a lot more underappreciated character in the future.
Okay so lets start this off with the most obvious- Ben is the most gentlemanly boyfriend in the world
He would go proper courtship
Fancy meals, taking you coat and pulling out your chair, walking you home, the whole package
A lot of it might be making up for his really busy schedule
He tries not to bring his work home but his rank as Colonel is a really big part of him and his life
Lots of car dates!
(Abseloutely no explosions though. None at all. I refuse to acknowledge anything that happened in season 5.)
It would be practical because he's always on the move and it would mean he could very easily fit time with you in on a very busy schedule
Plus, it would also put you out of danger cause as a member of military, it would probably be best for his relationship to not be very public
He would park somewhere inconspicuous and you could just jump in and drive all over town
It wasn't the most romantic but you got to talk and hold hands and kiss without worrying too much who would see
He would also take you to the races
As the 'only cavalryman who could ride a horse', Ben has always loved horses but he hasn't actually ridden since the war
Too many bad memories
But he still likes to get dressed up and watch the horse racing- especially when you're by his side
He isn't a gambling man by any means but it becomes a tradition that the two of you would pick a horse each to put a few pennies on and make a competition out of it
It is one of his favourite things, watching you scream and jump in excitement when your horse overtook his
It is also one of the very few times where he can just relax
If you live together, you will probably have to be good at the gentle art of persuasion
He would be glued to the desk
Telling you he'll be in bed in a few minutes
And it always ending up being a few hours
So you'd learn to start coming up behind him and rubbing his shoulders, coaxing him away from the work on his desk with every trick in the book
Nonetheless, he seems like a very domestic kind of guy
Probably does the dishes and makes dinner and helps with chores around the house
He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who argues. Instead, you'd just have conversations and try to talk honestly about whatever's upsetting you
And at the end of the day, you'd probably sit down in bed reading together cause you're basically an old married couple
Anyways, I love him...so please take this as a sign to write more Ben Younger x reader fics honestly we need more of them!
Gif by @johnnymartin which is pretty much a godsend cause there isn't a lot of content for him!
They say be the change you want to see in the world and I wanted more ben x reader content, so here we are i guess! Feedback is always appreciated and I'm hoping to do more writing for a lot more underappreciated character in the future.
Okay so lets start this off with the most obvious- Ben is the most gentlemanly boyfriend in the world
He would go proper courtship
Fancy meals, taking you coat and pulling out your chair, walking you home, the whole package
A lot of it might be making up for his really busy schedule
He tries not to bring his work home but his rank as Colonel is a really big part of him and his life
Lots of car dates!
(Abseloutely no explosions though. None at all. I refuse to acknowledge anything that happened in season 5.)
It would be practical because he's always on the move and it would mean he could very easily fit time with you in on a very busy schedule
Plus, it would also put you out of danger cause as a member of military, it would probably be best for his relationship to not be very public
He would park somewhere inconspicuous and you could just jump in and drive all over town
It wasn't the most romantic but you got to talk and hold hands and kiss without worrying too much who would see
He would also take you to the races
As the 'only cavalryman who could ride a horse', Ben has always loved horses but he hasn't actually ridden since the war
Too many bad memories
But he still likes to get dressed up and watch the horse racing- especially when you're by his side
He isn't a gambling man by any means but it becomes a tradition that the two of you would pick a horse each to put a few pennies on and make a competition out of it
It is one of his favourite things, watching you scream and jump in excitement when your horse overtook his
It is also one of the very few times where he can just relax
If you live together, you will probably have to be good at the gentle art of persuasion
He would be glued to the desk
Telling you he'll be in bed in a few minutes
And it always ending up being a few hours
So you'd learn to start coming up behind him and rubbing his shoulders, coaxing him away from the work on his desk with every trick in the book
Nonetheless, he seems like a very domestic kind of guy
Probably does the dishes and makes dinner and helps with chores around the house
He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who argues. Instead, you'd just have conversations and try to talk honestly about whatever's upsetting you
And at the end of the day, you'd probably sit down in bed reading together cause you're basically an old married couple
Anyways, I love him...so please take this as a sign to write more Ben Younger x reader fics honestly we need more of them!
Gif by @johnnymartin which is pretty much a godsend cause there isn't a lot of content for him!
They say be the change you want to see in the world and I wanted more ben x reader content, so here we are i guess! Feedback is always appreciated and I'm hoping to do more writing for a lot more underappreciated character in the future.
Okay so lets start this off with the most obvious- Ben is the most gentlemanly boyfriend in the world
He would go proper courtship
Fancy meals, taking you coat and pulling out your chair, walking you home, the whole package
A lot of it might be making up for his really busy schedule
He tries not to bring his work home but his rank as Colonel is a really big part of him and his life
Lots of car dates!
(Abseloutely no explosions though. None at all. I refuse to acknowledge anything that happened in season 5.)
It would be practical because he's always on the move and it would mean he could very easily fit time with you in on a very busy schedule
Plus, it would also put you out of danger cause as a member of military, it would probably be best for his relationship to not be very public
He would park somewhere inconspicuous and you could just jump in and drive all over town
It wasn't the most romantic but you got to talk and hold hands and kiss without worrying too much who would see
He would also take you to the races
As the 'only cavalryman who could ride a horse', Ben has always loved horses but he hasn't actually ridden since the war
Too many bad memories
But he still likes to get dressed up and watch the horse racing- especially when you're by his side
He isn't a gambling man by any means but it becomes a tradition that the two of you would pick a horse each to put a few pennies on and make a competition out of it
It is one of his favourite things, watching you scream and jump in excitement when your horse overtook his
It is also one of the very few times where he can just relax
If you live together, you will probably have to be good at the gentle art of persuasion
He would be glued to the desk
Telling you he'll be in bed in a few minutes
And it always ending up being a few hours
So you'd learn to start coming up behind him and rubbing his shoulders, coaxing him away from the work on his desk with every trick in the book
Nonetheless, he seems like a very domestic kind of guy
Probably does the dishes and makes dinner and helps with chores around the house
He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who argues. Instead, you'd just have conversations and try to talk honestly about whatever's upsetting you
And at the end of the day, you'd probably sit down in bed reading together cause you're basically an old married couple
Anyways, I love him...so please take this as a sign to write more Ben Younger x reader fics honestly we need more of them!
So during Tommy’s wedding he says “Tell Esme’s sisters I counted all the paintings”, implying they might steal from him, it’s so unnecessary since the Esme’s kin are the ones who live like romanis the most compared to all the others kins in the show
Honestly, the Shelbys being romani was probably a cool addition to SK, he constantly spreads bad stereotypes of the romani (and jewish) people
Since it’s been a hot minute since I’ve watch the show, SK doesn’t do a great job about showing the the Shelby’s are Romani. Like it’s implied, yes, but he makes it seem like they care about their culture and heritage without really showing that they do. The only one that is really shown to from the beginning is Polly. And, honestly, if you’re not really paying attention you could easily think they are just Irish travelers.
not me defending SK but they are more Irish Travellers than Romani from what I’ve understood. they’re mixed, their mother was an Irish Traveller and their father was Romani. that’s why Polly (their father’s sister) is showing this culture the most but during their encounter with the Lees, the Lees mentioned that their mother was a “diddicoy whore” when Johnny Dogs tried to explain that the Shelbys’ grandpa was the Romani “king”. then Billy Kimber calls them diddicoy as well so I assumed they were mixed.
I've been looking through the scripts for season 1 and im pretty sure that SK thinks that 'didicoy' means a traveller that has settled, rather than it being a rude word for mixed heritage.
I honestly don't think he knows anything about Romani or Travellers beyond the usual stereotypes of "horse thieves and fortune tellers" and it really shows
Author's Note: Ada and Freddie are honestly my favourite ship in the whole show!! I just loved them so much and I wish Freddie hadn't died because they would have been such a powerful communist couple. Just imagine how fun it would have been if Tommy had two Thornes in his side!
Word count: 898, short and sweet
Freddie didn't want to take Tommy's offer on the house. If it wasn't for his revolutionary ideals, it was simply for the fact that he wouldn't take his brother-in-law's charity. But even Ada, who was by far more stubborn and proud than her husband could ever hope to be, wouldn't let her baby boy grow up in that dingy little attic. Although he wouldn't admit it, he had found the idea a good one when he saw Karl waddling through each room, wagging his chubby little fist to show his parents their new home. Tommy gave it to them as a gesture of good grace, to apologise for the Grace that had tore his old best friend from his newborn. On those grounds, Freddie could accept it, with only minimal grumbling. Besides, the extra room means he could rent it out to that young writer boy that had more interest in a roof over his head than a revolution.
"Hear that, Freddie?" Ada smirked as she awed in the corridor, turning around to admire the shining walls and the staircase- and all of it was theirs. He stopped for a minute, craning his head for the scratching of rats that Ada could chase out with her revolver, or the sound of domestic arguments echoing through thinner walls. "Silence. At last."
The little sigh and smile on her face was so much more relaxed than he'd seen her in a long time, the tiredness that made its home in her shoulders lifting with joy.
"I'm sorry I couldn't give you this myself," he said, taking the bag out of her hand and onto the floor so that he could replace it with his palms encasing hers. "You ended up with the poor old communist toad who can't give his princess a palace."
He brushed a bit of her hair back behind her ear, seeing her beam up at him with all the love he saw in her eyes on their wedding day. She'd charged through Small Heath, not caring who saw her in her pretty white dress and flowery veil. She was a braver woman than he often gave her credit for.
"Oh, sod off," she said, as lovingly as ever. "You know I'd live in a bloody prison cell as long as I had you and Karl with me."
"Maybe we'll have to see." He gave a cheeky arch of his eyebrow. "We still don't know how Tommy got this place."
His old argument on Tommy's ambiguously legitimate methods forced a groan from Ada as she rolled her eyes. She always took Freddie's side when they were together, lecturing her brothers about the class consciousness and their continued efforts to try and find a way to make capitalist systems suit them would only oppress another. They'd taken to rolling their eyes whilst Polly offered to make another cup of tea and Finn looked more confused than amused or annoyed. The only reason they were ever down in Small Heath now was to make sure the family were still living and breathing, and the family only invited them over to see little Karl. Since he was born, Ada had found her place as favourite Shelby had been replaced, not that she could find it in her to be jealous. Karl was just as angelic as Freddie swore she was. And with Esme and John just having their first child together, a beautiful baby boy called Lee who Karl loved nothing more than playing with, the divides between morals and family were becoming increasingly small.
Just as though he were summoned, Karl came tottering into the corridor as he began garbling about one thing or another. With as much enthusiasm, Freddie moved down to pick his son up and hold him in his arms, nodding and agreeing to whatever it was he was saying. Ada looked at her two boys tenderly, one hand stroking Karl's dark hair and one pressed under her coat, up against her belly.
"I think he likes the house."
"Yeah, maybe he does," Freddie murmured as he looked round. It was bare at the minute, but he could imagine it in a few months: Ada's books lining the walls, some Communist newspapers and leaflets lining the coffee table, more blankets and cushions than they needed (just as Ada liked it), photographs crowding each mantle place and empty space there was left, and the three of them curled up on the sofa. "Maybe he likes his new home, hey?"
Karl gave a big grin, face so close that he nearly knocked Freddie's teeth out as he shook his head. He moved away quickly, as Ada stifled a scoff and bit her lip at making a remark at her husband's sudden change of heart.
"Why don't you go upstairs and choose your room?" Ada suggested. "You can have any one you like."
"Any?" He looked up at his parents, wide-eyed and surprised.
"Of course, son," Freddie grinned. "It's all ours."
And Ada looked up at her husband and grinned- they may be principled, but it doesn't mean they have to let their boy grow up in poverty. Not like they did. That's what they were fighting for, after all, wasn't it?
Author’s Note: Ada and Freddie are honestly my favourite ship in the whole show!! I just loved them so much and I wish Freddie hadn’t died because they would have been such a powerful communist couple. Just imagine how fun it would have been if Tommy had two Thornes in his side!
I loved reading this! I also wish that Freddie hadn’t died, there was so much that the show could have done with him.
“ Ada’s books lining the walls, some Communist newspapers and leaflets lining the coffee table, more blankets and cushions than they needed (just as Ada liked it), photographs crowding each mantle place and empty space there was left, and the three of them curled up on the sofa. “ such cozy home vibes. I’d live there.
Author's Note: Ada and Freddie are honestly my favourite ship in the whole show!! I just loved them so much and I wish Freddie hadn't died because they would have been such a powerful communist couple. Just imagine how fun it would have been if Tommy had two Thornes in his side!
Word count: 898, short and sweet
Freddie didn't want to take Tommy's offer on the house. If it wasn't for his revolutionary ideals, it was simply for the fact that he wouldn't take his brother-in-law's charity. But even Ada, who was by far more stubborn and proud than her husband could ever hope to be, wouldn't let her baby boy grow up in that dingy little attic. Although he wouldn't admit it, he had found the idea a good one when he saw Karl waddling through each room, wagging his chubby little fist to show his parents their new home. Tommy gave it to them as a gesture of good grace, to apologise for the Grace that had tore his old best friend from his newborn. On those grounds, Freddie could accept it, with only minimal grumbling. Besides, the extra room means he could rent it out to that young writer boy that had more interest in a roof over his head than a revolution.
"Hear that, Freddie?" Ada smirked as she awed in the corridor, turning around to admire the shining walls and the staircase- and all of it was theirs. He stopped for a minute, craning his head for the scratching of rats that Ada could chase out with her revolver, or the sound of domestic arguments echoing through thinner walls. "Silence. At last."
The little sigh and smile on her face was so much more relaxed than he'd seen her in a long time, the tiredness that made its home in her shoulders lifting with joy.
"I'm sorry I couldn't give you this myself," he said, taking the bag out of her hand and onto the floor so that he could replace it with his palms encasing hers. "You ended up with the poor old communist toad who can't give his princess a palace."
He brushed a bit of her hair back behind her ear, seeing her beam up at him with all the love he saw in her eyes on their wedding day. She'd charged through Small Heath, not caring who saw her in her pretty white dress and flowery veil. She was a braver woman than he often gave her credit for.
"Oh, sod off," she said, as lovingly as ever. "You know I'd live in a bloody prison cell as long as I had you and Karl with me."
"Maybe we'll have to see." He gave a cheeky arch of his eyebrow. "We still don't know how Tommy got this place."
His old argument on Tommy's ambiguously legitimate methods forced a groan from Ada as she rolled her eyes. She always took Freddie's side when they were together, lecturing her brothers about the class consciousness and their continued efforts to try and find a way to make capitalist systems suit them would only oppress another. They'd taken to rolling their eyes whilst Polly offered to make another cup of tea and Finn looked more confused than amused or annoyed. The only reason they were ever down in Small Heath now was to make sure the family were still living and breathing, and the family only invited them over to see little Karl. Since he was born, Ada had found her place as favourite Shelby had been replaced, not that she could find it in her to be jealous. Karl was just as angelic as Freddie swore she was. And with Esme and John just having their first child together, a beautiful baby boy called Lee who Karl loved nothing more than playing with, the divides between morals and family were becoming increasingly small.
Just as though he were summoned, Karl came tottering into the corridor as he began garbling about one thing or another. With as much enthusiasm, Freddie moved down to pick his son up and hold him in his arms, nodding and agreeing to whatever it was he was saying. Ada looked at her two boys tenderly, one hand stroking Karl's dark hair and one pressed under her coat, up against her belly.
"I think he likes the house."
"Yeah, maybe he does," Freddie murmured as he looked round. It was bare at the minute, but he could imagine it in a few months: Ada's books lining the walls, some Communist newspapers and leaflets lining the coffee table, more blankets and cushions than they needed (just as Ada liked it), photographs crowding each mantle place and empty space there was left, and the three of them curled up on the sofa. "Maybe he likes his new home, hey?"
Karl gave a big grin, face so close that he nearly knocked Freddie's teeth out as he shook his head. He moved away quickly, as Ada stifled a scoff and bit her lip at making a remark at her husband's sudden change of heart.
"Why don't you go upstairs and choose your room?" Ada suggested. "You can have any one you like."
"Any?" He looked up at his parents, wide-eyed and surprised.
"Of course, son," Freddie grinned. "It's all ours."
And Ada looked up at her husband and grinned- they may be principled, but it doesn't mean they have to let their boy grow up in poverty. Not like they did. That's what they were fighting for, after all, wasn't it?
Author's Note: Ada and Freddie are honestly my favourite ship in the whole show!! I just loved them so much and I wish Freddie hadn't died because they would have been such a powerful communist couple. Just imagine how fun it would have been if Tommy had two Thornes in his side!
Word count: 898, short and sweet
Freddie didn't want to take Tommy's offer on the house. If it wasn't for his revolutionary ideals, it was simply for the fact that he wouldn't take his brother-in-law's charity. But even Ada, who was by far more stubborn and proud than her husband could ever hope to be, wouldn't let her baby boy grow up in that dingy little attic. Although he wouldn't admit it, he had found the idea a good one when he saw Karl waddling through each room, wagging his chubby little fist to show his parents their new home. Tommy gave it to them as a gesture of good grace, to apologise for the Grace that had tore his old best friend from his newborn. On those grounds, Freddie could accept it, with only minimal grumbling. Besides, the extra room means he could rent it out to that young writer boy that had more interest in a roof over his head than a revolution.
"Hear that, Freddie?" Ada smirked as she awed in the corridor, turning around to admire the shining walls and the staircase- and all of it was theirs. He stopped for a minute, craning his head for the scratching of rats that Ada could chase out with her revolver, or the sound of domestic arguments echoing through thinner walls. "Silence. At last."
The little sigh and smile on her face was so much more relaxed than he'd seen her in a long time, the tiredness that made its home in her shoulders lifting with joy.
"I'm sorry I couldn't give you this myself," he said, taking the bag out of her hand and onto the floor so that he could replace it with his palms encasing hers. "You ended up with the poor old communist toad who can't give his princess a palace."
He brushed a bit of her hair back behind her ear, seeing her beam up at him with all the love he saw in her eyes on their wedding day. She'd charged through Small Heath, not caring who saw her in her pretty white dress and flowery veil. She was a braver woman than he often gave her credit for.
"Oh, sod off," she said, as lovingly as ever. "You know I'd live in a bloody prison cell as long as I had you and Karl with me."
"Maybe we'll have to see." He gave a cheeky arch of his eyebrow. "We still don't know how Tommy got this place."
His old argument on Tommy's ambiguously legitimate methods forced a groan from Ada as she rolled her eyes. She always took Freddie's side when they were together, lecturing her brothers about the class consciousness and their continued efforts to try and find a way to make capitalist systems suit them would only oppress another. They'd taken to rolling their eyes whilst Polly offered to make another cup of tea and Finn looked more confused than amused or annoyed. The only reason they were ever down in Small Heath now was to make sure the family were still living and breathing, and the family only invited them over to see little Karl. Since he was born, Ada had found her place as favourite Shelby had been replaced, not that she could find it in her to be jealous. Karl was just as angelic as Freddie swore she was. And with Esme and John just having their first child together, a beautiful baby boy called Lee who Karl loved nothing more than playing with, the divides between morals and family were becoming increasingly small.
Just as though he were summoned, Karl came tottering into the corridor as he began garbling about one thing or another. With as much enthusiasm, Freddie moved down to pick his son up and hold him in his arms, nodding and agreeing to whatever it was he was saying. Ada looked at her two boys tenderly, one hand stroking Karl's dark hair and one pressed under her coat, up against her belly.
"I think he likes the house."
"Yeah, maybe he does," Freddie murmured as he looked round. It was bare at the minute, but he could imagine it in a few months: Ada's books lining the walls, some Communist newspapers and leaflets lining the coffee table, more blankets and cushions than they needed (just as Ada liked it), photographs crowding each mantle place and empty space there was left, and the three of them curled up on the sofa. "Maybe he likes his new home, hey?"
Karl gave a big grin, face so close that he nearly knocked Freddie's teeth out as he shook his head. He moved away quickly, as Ada stifled a scoff and bit her lip at making a remark at her husband's sudden change of heart.
"Why don't you go upstairs and choose your room?" Ada suggested. "You can have any one you like."
"Any?" He looked up at his parents, wide-eyed and surprised.
"Of course, son," Freddie grinned. "It's all ours."
And Ada looked up at her husband and grinned- they may be principled, but it doesn't mean they have to let their boy grow up in poverty. Not like they did. That's what they were fighting for, after all, wasn't it?
I feel like most people get pretty upset about the way that Peaky Blinders took a very real and very significant historical figure, and made her into a love interest. Jessie Eden was a pretty incredible woman and I highly recommend reading this biography from Graham Stevenson (who was a British Marxist and friend of Jessie's) as he has been one of the biggest critics of Jessie's portrayal in the show. Plus, it's got a few bits about how the show is historically incorrect if that is something you fancy. It's also an explanation for why we didn't see her in season 6 because in 1933/1934 she had 'disappeared' to Russia and was helping rally women to build the Moscow Metro! The show really missed out on showing how impressive she actually was.
The Strong Family as The Art of Drowning by Billy Collins
There isn't a lot that we know about the Shelby's mother, or her family. Everything about the Strongs is ambiguous and a little bit unsettling. Personally, I think it's one of the coolest elements about them. Especially with Charlie's Yard as this really industrial area, full of smoke and fire, which is also right next to the Cut where Mrs Shelby drowned herself. It's just really interesting and gothic and very poetic. It's also fascinating that the Shelby's mother doesn't really have a presence in the show, yet she (and her blood) is ultimately the biggest influence on Tommy and how he is 'drowning' in his own guilt.
These photos dont belong to me, they are all from Pinterest, except for the centre one which is the cover of the book, 'The Art of Drowning'.
Here's one for Finn because I miss him! This is such a beautiful poem so even if my dodgy moodboard puts you off, I really recommend you give this a read. Not sure if you wanted an explanation, but here it is.
Peaky Blinders is dominated with this macho narrative which is why I found it so interesting to see how they manouvered around masculinity with Finn. He's the one who got the 'be a man' speech from Tommy and he's the one who had this sudden characterisation change in season 5. With it, there probably comes a lot of pressure to be a man (namely, a man like John) and be a proper blinder boy. That's why I love to try and write Finn as more vulnerable and trying to see past the mask of masculinity.
Anyways, just to let you know that the pictures aren't mine, I got them from Pinterest but I've tried to edit them a bit.
Michael and Tommy: The Poison Tree by William Blake
I cannot tell you how much I LOVED that this poem was mentioned in episode 1. I'm hoping to do english literature in uni and I absoloutely adore poetry so I'm thinking of making a moodboard series were I cast different characters and relationships as poems? Please reblog and tell me what you think!
Summary: Esme knew the Shelby curse too well- it took her husband, the father of her children. But she knew a few curses of her own...
Word count: 1465
Warnings: Death, mourning, ghosts?
Author's Note: Hi, I'm so glad to be back and this is the start of my new ghost stories series! I'd love to hear your feedback!
It was dark, and everything was still. The caravan was full of life, the massive bed exuding warmth from all of the kids that huddled together underneath all of the handmade blankets. All but Esme slept peacefully. She watched over them all, feeling like a guardian as they dreamed sweet things. They had each other to hold onto, it made her wish she still had hers to hold. The eldest, Louise, was sleeping quite cramped in the corner as she let her younger brother Lee cuddle into her, and it made her wonder if they all missed the house and the separate beds. Maybe they did, but they never complained. Tommy tried to get her to leave the eldest with Martha's mother and sisters, saying they weren't her blood. But Esme heard John whispering in her ear then, telling Tommy to fuck off- she was the mother of all of those kids, enough said. When she went back to them, saying she was going to take them away from all this, somewhere safe and calm on the road, she had asked if they wanted to stay with the Shelbys. Not one of them said yes. She was their mum. She was all they had. Blood or no blood, there was so much love- it made the grief easier.
As quietly as she could, Esme slipped off of the bed, feeling her long dress fall to the floor. Her bare feet on wood, she manoeuvred over, cautious not to make a sound. Not that it mattered, she thought, they were all like John: he could sleep through another war. Could have. She had to keep on reminding herself of the past tense. Some days it was like he wasn't gone at all, but she'd seen too many tricks with smoke and mirrors to even consider the occult, or superstitious. Without making a noise, Esme made her way outside. The night sky brought a wave of cold over her skin, the breeze waving her skirts like the shadows were trying to grab at her skirt. All she could think of was being barefoot and pregnant, how she always ended up waddling outside in the dark with her belly swollen and John sneaking behind, feeling the baby kick as he pressed a warm palm up to her bump. She looked up to see the light of the full moon and heard whispered memories of the stories her brothers and cousins would tell over the campfire to try and scare her. Looking down at her hands, Esme twisted the rings on her fingers. She'd taken them from John, in the morgue. His and Martha's wedding ring had gone to Louise, as the eldest, and she swore to keep it safe till the day she died. His other rings went to the rest of the older ones, as the babes were too young to be careful. But she'd kept one for herself- their wedding ring, put on the finger right next to her own. Following the pale line from the scar on her hand, she linked together all their vows. Two bloods become one. An arranged marriage to reconciliate a feud, that ended when his blood spilt to signal the start of a new war.
Till death do we part, that's how it went, wasn't it? But death has come and he still hasn't parted from her. He was still there in the faces of their children, still there in the scar on her hand. John lived in each breath they took and each ache in her heart. Esme didn't want him to pass on, didn't want that finality of it all. It was selfish, she knew- he ought to be in his mother's arms, with Martha. If she, or he, even believed in all of that heaven crap. But she just wanted him here with her, with their children. In this caravan, far away from the smoke and gunfire that destroyed him. She wanted him to stay.
"Haunt me."
She didn't know she was asking it until the words fell out of her lips. Calling upon spirits was a practice she had learnt to respect from a young girl. Even if all she had even known was tricks, there was a solemn history that was not to be taken lightly. This wasn't smoke and mirrors. There were no gadjes to trick, just a wife in need of her husband.
"Haunt me." Her voice was stronger now.
John always said she was a bossy one. Whether that be when she yelled bitterly at her brother-in-law's face at some stupid risk he was taking, or the way she'd try and get him out of the dark shadow of the business, and even when their bodies found their place together, she still grabbed his hair and told him exactly what to do. He always smiled as he said it, though. Her demands never came from anything but love. She was a reverent lover. There was no thing on Earth that could stop her from putting her family first. On Earth or elsewhere. To demand a spirit to obey could end badly, but this was John. John who always held her face in his hands and give that boyish smirk she loved.
"Haunt me!" She was begging.
She had never begged in her life. Not out loud, in any case. Esme Lee never begged when she was asked- no, told- that she was going to marry a Shelby. Esme Shelby never begged when she was pushed aside by her brother-in-laws and husband. She never begged those coppers to leave, just shoved herself between them and Ada's bonny new-born and told them to leave. She never begged John to free her from this life. She never begged John to leave the smoke behind. The only time she begged was when she heard the sound of bullets piercing the green fields she had only ever heard birds been shot in. She begged whatever it was that made this world more than matter and stuff to keep her John alive. To keep her husband alive. To keep the father of their children alive.
The being that decides Life never listened. Perhaps Death will.
"Haunt me!"
There was a tear on her cheek, fists clenched like she was ready to fight the things she couldn't see and didn't pretend to understand. In the bitter air, the words festered into nothing. As she felt the lump in her throat rise, she remembered the knife that was there once. This must have been how Polly felt; searching for something that couldn't be found. Not in this life, not yet. She turned round, the snoozing caravan still full of sleeping kids.
"I heard you the first time, you know?"
She would like to say she froze in shock, that she never could've expected to hear that voice again. Instead, she turned around so quickly, her hair whipped through the wind like a loose headscarf as ebony as the dark sky. There he was, practically glowing amongst the inkblot of a scene. White. His face as pale as when he lied in the morgue, his shirt just as crumpled and buttons undone like it was once before. Red. Dripping down from his chest. Happiness and disgust rose in her heart in equal parts. Esme could do nothing but walk towards the face she knew too well, a face imprinted in the aching heart she carried. He brought his hand out. She didn't dare take it, not wanting this figure to be as intangible as the memory of him. There was a pale line in his palm, cutting through the life line and love line like an almost straight path. She raised her palm up too, the mirror scars sat together uniting them once again.
"Haunt me." She said it again, looking up into those dark blue eyes she longed to wake up to every day. "Don't leave, John. Just haunt me."
"Course, love." He moved his hand, the scarred palm reaching up to the cheek that still had a tear clinging to it. It was strange, to feel the warmth of skin but none of its sustenance. This was not Life- it was the other entity that gave it its meaning. Untouchable but so very there. "You didn't think you were gonna get rid of me so easily, huh?"
She threw her head back in the first real laugh she had had in the longest time, the sound ripping through her without any subconscious thought or effort. Easily. None of this was done easily.
"There's my girl." John said, his voice low and smile crooked.
Esme knew he wasn't going anywhere. She should have been scared, but all she felt was the broken pieces of her heart stitching themselves back together.
@misstressshelby sorry it's taken me a while to respond but thank you so much for your comment, it is so lovely to hear!! And honestly the only thing I ever wanted from the show was more of esme and john's family life. Fingers crossed for season 6!
Just finished Haunt me and I’m in tears! Ugh I love John and Esme so much and they deserved better. Your writing was incredible and I was wondering if your planning on doing a John and Esme fanfic again this time with a happy ending?
Thanks so much anon, this is so lovely to hear! Haunt Me is actually a part of a ghost stories series that I'm planning on writing, with characters like Polly etc. So, there will be a lot more like that.
As for a sequel, I really love John x Esme so i'd really love to carry on their story but it might take a while, as i have got exams, mental health issues and im still struggling with my physical health. But fingers crossed and i might be able to get a part 2 out soon.
I have finally got my diagnoses and I am over the freaking moon!! In honour of all of the wonderfully diverse peaky fandom and peaky fics, I have put together a list of all my favourite peaky blinders fics about illness! Thanks to all of the authors here cause you've really helped me get through this really difficult time with some lovely fanfic!
Peaky Blinders- How They Care for Their Disabled S/O by @a-libra-writes
This pretty much hits the nail on the head! Whilst I don't identify as disabled, these are all very truthful depictions of the way disabled and ill people feel/act and I love that all the characters react so differently!
Partner Having Bipolar by @jammesbarnnes
Again, I don't have bipolar disorder but there are so many similarities between how I feel and this is just a really sweet preference for a very misunderstood disorder. I could go on forever about how much I love Enna's writing but I'll try not to embarrass myself too much.
How they help you when your anxiety is bad by @imaginesbymk
As someone with anxiety, this was so wonderful for me to read!
Morning Sugar by @interstellarrambles
This writer and this fic are two of my favourites in the whole peaky blinders fandom! I love how she has written isaiah as having a disability and i just think it's the cutest story ever!
Fearful and Regret by @randomoutsiders
A friend of mine also has epilepsy and these fics really helped me understand how it feels for her, and everyone else who has it! I loved the different reactions from the family and, even though the 20s wasn't a great time for people with any kind of illnesses, the family are so supportive and lovely.
Hospital Visit by @bonniesgoldengirl
Every person whose ill (whether chronically or otherwise) knows just how much time is spent in hospital. And I know for a fact my hospital visits would be a lot nicer if this happened to me.
S/O with glasses and Part 2 by @peakyposts
Technically, glasses count as a disability/impairment. My favourite thing about these headcanons is thinking about how everyone seems to like the glasses/find them cute but 1920s glasses looked ridiculous (maybe thats just me though).
Quiet Courage by @fallatyourfeet
I honestly think the Shelby family would be so protective if their little sister had any kind of illness and this fic really shows the gentler side of the family.
Breathe in the Air by @theshelbyclan
A reader with asthma who is the biggest baddest business Shelby? It's everything I didn't know I needed!
Happy Little Pill by @cas-kingdom
I'm actually going to be on medicine (at some point) and this is such a powerful story about family and how everyone reacts when they found out you're struggling. Fair warning, I may have sobbed a little.
Shelby Sis with sensory issues by @milkacchan
I absolutely love the dynamics of shelby family looking after their sibling with any kind of illness or issues, and this is another really nice one that shows how the family adapts around their sibling!
Shelby Boys x s/o with autism by @murswrites
One thing I don't see a lot of is romantic imagines between readers with neurodivergency/any kind of illness and the peaky characters, but this one is a really thoughtful and sweet preference for the shelby brothers.
Alfie dating someone with anxiety by @wouldpollyapprove
Since finding out I have anxiety and OCD, I have clung to Alfie as my comfort character because much like him I have a skin condition and chronic pain, and I just bloody love him. So, you can imagine how unbelievably happy I was when I found this lovely headcanon!! I keep on rereading it because it's just so perfect.
So, that's that! If anyone else has any fics they'd like to add on, and if I see any more, then I'll definitely update this. Plus, if you keep an eye out, I will be doing a lot more fics around these kinds of things if you're interested. All my love to the writers and many thanks for your work!
