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• “La liberté guidant le peuple” by Eugène Delacroix

and

• “13th attempt to break the Gaza blockade by sea”. Photo by Mustafa Hassouna (Andalou Agency for Getty)

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CILLIAN MURPHY as Jozef Gabčík in Anthropoid (2016) | dir. Sean Ellis

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i think about this at least 2-3 times a day actually

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Forsaken | Thomas Shelby x Reader (NSFW) ⚮

Synopsis: Thomas eases his loneliness with a famous burlesque dancer. Warnings: False Imprisonment (technically), Assassination Attempt, Spanking, Pet Names, Exhibitionism, Desperation Author's Note: S6 Thomas Shelby? My man, my man, my man. Enjoy.

“Sorry, sir, but the show is over.” You said aimlessly, feeling the presence of a man. 

“Not for me, it isn’t.” He retorted, rubbing a cigarette across his lips & lighting it. 

Your head snapped back to the British gang leader turned MP, Thomas Michael Shelby. He looked quite different from the first time you saw him. He was starting to grey on the sides of his head and he sported wireframe glasses. 

“A Member of Parliament coming to see a burlesque show. How appropriate.” You chided, crossing your legs. 

“Just came to see what the buzz is about.” He said while looking you up and down. Your mink fur shawl sat low on your chest and Thomas hoped it incidentally fell to the floor. 

“Well, you’ve came and seen. Have a good night, Mr. Shelby.” You dismissed him. You watched him stand there for a moment and then walk towards you. He lifted your chin and caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I’ll have you, and that’s the end of it. See you tomorrow.” He said. 

——

Hearing a knock at the door, you opened it believing it was your car service. You met the somber gaze of one of Thomas’ goons. He took your suitcases from your hands and gently led you to the 1927 Bentley out front. He politely opened the door for you and guided you inside. You stared at Thomas with hatred. He smiled warmly and moved your hair from your face. 

“No way to greet your beloved, eh?” He said.

“You are no beloved of mine.” You scorned.

“I will be in time.” He retorted as the car drove away.

You spent the long drive ignoring Thomas as he took you in. He had seen you many times on stage, but you were captivating up close. He had no qualms about taking you as Lizzie was long gone. What better way to alleviate a man’s loneliness than to spend time in a beautiful woman’s bosom? 

Arriving at Shelby Manor, you were taken aback by the size of his home. An MP’s salary in addition to gang activity must pay well. You were greeted by friendly waitstaff and Thomas’ dog, Cyril. Thomas thanked everyone and told them to leave you two alone. 

“Want a drink?” You asked while walking to the unnecessarily fancy liquor cabinet, feigning cordiality.

“I don’t drink anymore, but I appreciate the offer.” He said, admiring you from behind. Pouring yourself a glass of whiskey, you sat on the plush sofa. You sighed and stared at him intently.

“I’ll stay for the night if you pay me. We can negotiate starting with £1,000.” You explained. 

“You’re staying for as long as I want.” He attested.

“Who do you think I am? Some harlot to keep you busy since your wife left you?” You questioned.

“I would’ve taken you over the vanity in your dressing room If that’s the case.” He said, adjusting his glasses. You couldn’t deny how attractive he was but you had to hold out to rile him up. You simply rolled your eyes and finished your glass in one go. 

“Let’s head upstairs then.” You said, standing up. Thomas scooped you and carried you upstairs into the master bedroom. Your heart sped up at the feeling of his hands holding you securely. Laying you on the bed, he stared down at you as he removed his suit jacket. His gorgeous eyes were illuminated by the faint candlelight. You noticed the gun in his holster, but you wanted to distract him from it. You beckoned him to you with your index finger. He crawled on top of you and kissed you delicately. Taking a handful of his hair, you snatched the gun and held it to the side of his head. You pulled the trigger. 

The revolver made clicking noises as you grew frantic. You wondered why his brains weren’t staining your silk blouse. Thomas laughed sweetly and took the gun from you. 

“It’s not loaded, love. See that?” He said softly, flicking out the empty cylinder. He was eerily calm.

“Thomas, I-“ You started, fearing what could happen. 

“Shh. You think you’re the first woman who wanted me dead?” He hushed you. You two stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. Suddenly, you kissed and rutted against him. He responded by shoving his hands underneath your blouse. A faint whimper emitted from you from his intensity. 

“Need some discipline, yeah?” Thomas whispered against your lips.

“Not at all.” You fired back. 

He snatched you up once more and put you over his knee. He slid your skirt up to reveal black lace panties with a tiny silk bow at the waistline. You felt him massage the supple flesh of your ass. You pushed back against his hand to antagonize him.

“Little bunny…” He purred. A series of harsh smacks landed on you as silent tears fell from your eyes. Arousal began to pool in between your legs. An inflamed imprint was left on your cheek. Thomas slipped his hand between your thighs and brushed his fingertips against your clothed cunt. Rubbing small circles, another faint whimper came from you. Then, he pulled aside your underwear and plunged two fingers inside of you. The silver band on his ring finger brushed against your clit as he pumped them slowly. 

“Christ…” You moaned. He curled his fingers slightly making an indecorous noise leave your mouth. You wondered how he knew your body so well. 

“Hush now.” He said, pumping his fingers faster. He grew hard at the squelching noises from your arousal. You were on the verge of climaxing before he removed his fingers and sat you up. 

“What the fuck, Thomas?” You said annoyed. 

“Stand in front of the window.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes and followed his directions. You watched him undress in the reflection in the glass. His body was amazing for a man in his mid 40s. You hurriedly shed the rest of your undergarments before he turned around. Walking to you, he pressed you uncomfortably against the glass. Despite being a burlesque dancer, you were deathly afraid of being seen by his colleagues or waitstaff. 

“Stay just like this, yeah?” He said, voice slightly beyond a whisper. He kissed your shoulder gently before pressing his tip against your folds. Both of you sighed in delight when he bottomed out. He stilled for a moment to compose himself. You rutted against him out of impatience. Thrusting deeply, he buried his face in your neck. Your mewls progressed to screams of delectation. Restrained groans occasionally left Thomas’ throat as he held you tightly and nipped your ear. Thomas snaked his hand between your legs once more and rubbed your clit vigorously. His loneliness became an afterthought as he finished you off. 

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‘Thomas, why don’t we fսck here, on these benches? Right now. We wouldn’t be the first.’

Peaky Blinders | 6.06 “Lock and Key”

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platforming palestinian joy is just as important as sharing the suffering they're enduring during this genocide. despite continued displacement and bombardment, you cannot steal their joy and spirit. happy birthday to this sweet baby 🖤🇵🇸 may they grow up to see a free palestine

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kinda solved #some of my personal issues so expect a thomas shelby fic in 1-3 days

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CILLIAN MURPHY as DAMIEN O'DONOVAN THE WIND THAT SHAKES THE BARLEY (2006) dir. Ken Loach

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crossing his legs acting bashful like a middle school teenager talking to their jock prom-king football-player crush oh cillian you silly goose

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saw a picture of cillian where someone edited it to make his skin lighter...imagine being that pale and someone wants to make you even lighter

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been feeling quite #overwhelmed so i’m gonna hold off on writing anything for a bit

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