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odiesdayoff · 1 month ago

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Kinktober: Tommy Shelby

Pair: Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: Your parents can no longer afford the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Tommy can't just let that slide.

Warnings: Boot worship?

this may be unfinished, but the whole point of my kinktober is to finish the wips I've had for so long. Enjoy and lmk if you want more.

Shelves of assorted pill bottles and prescriptions sat behind you. Across the counter, an older woman counted her coins for an extra canister of film and finally slid the sum over to you. Only a few other patrons wandered around the pharmacy. While it was your parent’s business, you found yourself running it more often than they did.

“Enjoy your day, ma’am.” You watched the old woman walk out of the store. A tall man held open the door for her to leave. He wore the all-too familiar cap of the Peaky Blinders, along with the winter coat style that many of them shared.

You tried to hide your indifference, and slight fear. You stayed out of the way of those men as much as you could, but anyone in Birmingham had at least one encounter a week with them. The man casually walked up to the counter and his eyes met yours. Arthur Shelby, not the worst person to see, but certainly not the best.

“Mornin’ Darling. Are your parents here?” He wanted to be somewhat charming and intimidating, which definitely worked in his favor. Maybe if you weren’t aware of who he was and his reputation, you wouldn’t feel a familiar chill down your spine.

You shook your head. “M’sorry, Sir. They went out to the next town over. Is everything okay?” A part of you knew that something was wrong. The Peaky Blinders only came around when it was time to collect their monthly protection fees from every local business. For all that you knew, your parents had never missed a payment.

He leaned over the counter to get closer to you. “We haven’t received your payment. You do realize if you don’t pay, we can’t promise what’ll happen to this quaint little pharmacy.”

“My dad handles the payments. I didn’t know we were behind.” Business had been extremely slow lately. You could only assume that your parents were out of town to try and get the money they owed to the gang. “Could you give us until the end of the week? At least until they get back? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding, you know we’re good on our word.”

Arthur thought for a moment, hopefully considering your words. “Two days. That’s all I can give you.”

You smiled. “Thank you. You’ll get the money and with interest.”

He nodded towards you and put his hat back on his head. “I know you will. You’re a good girl, yeah?” He walked out of the store, leaving an invisible cloud of something menacing in his wake.

You watched him leave. You’d never really had a direct encounter with one of them before. There was a sense of fear mixed with something you couldn’t really put your finger on.

You shouldn’t have made promises that you weren’t confident that you could keep. Your parents returned and you thoroughly explained the situation and deal you made with Arthur. They told you that they would take care of it. That you shouldn’t be speaking with any of those men. They made whores out of innocent girls like you.

By the next Wednesday, you assumed that this whole issue was dealt with and over. You were unboxing new shipments behind the counter and organizing the shelves when your theory was proven extremely wrong. Your parents were fixing the display at the front of the door. They noticed the group of Peaky Blinders before you did.

The front door opened, the bell signaling a new customer. If their angry stances didn’t give who they were away, their hats did. Two of them grabbed your parents and made them face the one with the undercut and a cigarette hanging from his lips. You knew that this was Tommy Shelby, leader of the gang.

“Y’know we can’t let one person off the hook for a missed payment. Then we won’t be taken seriously, will we?” It was a rhetorical question, everyone knew the answer to that. Your parents keep struggling under the grasp of the men who held them with no success or escape.

The customers in the shop quickly fled through the front doors, making sure that they were out of harm's way from the gang and whatever they had planned for your parents. You stayed low to the ground, clutching the box of behind-the-counter medications in front of you.

“Your rates went up. Business isn’t like it used to be. We can’t afford it anymore.” Your father pleaded.

“We’re decent men. We understand the financial burden. We can always take some collateral until business starts booming again.” A new voice, one you remembered to be Arthur's, spoke up. “What about that daughter of yours?”

You perked up at the mention of your existence. “No. She’s out of the question.”

None of the men replied. Suddenly, your father’s grunts of pain followed the sounds of someone hitting him. It kept going. You shut your eyes. Your mother screamed for them to stop.

Ignoring the protests from your own body and brain, you stood up. “Leave him alone!”

Their heads turned to you. It was then that you realized it might’ve been a mistake. “And who might you be, girl? Some kind of hero?” Tommy’s blue eyes pierced into you.

Arthur grinned at the sight of you. “That’s sweet, little Y/n. Their daughter.”

“Y/n, run!” Your father struggled against the men, screaming as loud as he possibly could.

Like a deer in headlights, you stood still. Your brain screamed for you to run, but your body locked into the position you were in. “Y/n, stay.” Tommy commanded you in a mocking way. He almost sauntered over to the counter and let himself through the small gate so that he was right next to you. “Look at that, she knows who she belongs to already.”

“Mr. Shelby, I have money saved up. I can cover the cost. Just please, don’t hurt my parents.” Your voice was slightly over the volume of a whisper. Begging and pleading in front of a man like him was something people near death only got to experience. You hoped it wasn’t at that point.

He clicked his tongue. “I don’t want your money anymore, darling. I need your parents to remember what happens when they cross the Peaky Blinders.” He leaned close to you, enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. It gave you goosebumps. “If you’re good, you might enjoy this a little too much for a punishment.”

His hand trailed to your lower back as he guided you into the storage room. Once he closed the door behind the both of you, the courage to talk returned. “What are you going to do with me?”

He laughed and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke in your direction. “Nothing at all.”

You raised a brow. “Nothing?”

“Don’t sound disappointed, love. I may be a criminal, but I’m no monster.” Another puff of smoke. The stinging scent of tobacco invades your senses. He quirks a brow. “Unless that’s what you want.”

You shook your head, a little hesitant. “Of course not. But…why?”

He stifles a laugh at your apparent eagerness. "Fucking me is a privilege, not a punishment." He blows the smoke away yet again.

Taking a step closer to him, you cock your head to the side in curiosity. "And...I haven't earned that privilege?" You couldn't sound more desperate to jump his bones if you tried. If only your parents heard you. How ashamed they must be.

Maybe it was true about the Shelby men. They didn't even try and had women fawning at their feet for a chance to touch them. Or vice versa. You were no exception to this phenomenon. "No, not yet. If you want me so badly, you must prove yourself."

He dropped the cigarette, put it out with his boot, and it singed the floor. It was as if the idea popped in his head right then. "Grind on my boot. Make yourself come."

You looked down to see his boot, the reflection from a somewhat recent shining making you see your pathetic expression looking back at you.

This was necessary if there was any chance of him touching you at all. You fell to your knees and crawled to sit on his boot. "Eyes up here." He called, making you keep eye contact as you started to slowly grind against his shoe, the friction barely stimulating your clit at this point. You weren't sure if coming was even possible this way.

"That's it, wet by boot. Filthy slut." He carefully lifted the tip of his boot against you, pulling a quiet moan from your lips.

You must've looked silly, grinding your core over his boot while your parents were probably getting beaten just in another room. How could he have such an influence on you?

Still, you ground against him, chasing your high on his boot.

#thomas shelby x reader #odiesdayoff #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #kinktober #peaky blinders

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enby-jellyfish · 5 months ago

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I Am Venus God.

Arthur Shelby X GN!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/yours

Summary: You meet Arthur at your lowest, now the time has come to see him at his.

Warnings: TW PSYCHOTIC EPISODE, TW PSYCHOSIS, religious themes, marital neglect, mentions of substance abuse (alcohol and unspecified drugs), cursing, period typical ignorance to mental health issues, possible OOC Tommy, angst

Word Count: 2108

A/N: Inspired by that one scene from Queen Charlotte :)

Aside from your new husband sneaking off to various pubs and working in an actual gang, your marriage has been going smoothly, even if how it came to be was anything but.

The marriage in question was arranged by his brother, the fearsome gang leader Tommy Shelby. Your father's bakery had been struggling a lot, so he did what any desperate working man in Small Heath does and went to the infamous Peaky Blinders for help. Surprisingly Tommy accepted your father's plea with the condition that you had to marry the eldest Shelby.

You were furious when you heard the news, understandably so. How dare they basically sell you to a man you've never seen, but whose reputation precedes him. You, like anyone who has not been living under a rock these past few years, have heard horrible stories about the Peaky Blinders. They are cheats, liars, and most importantly, murderers. And Arthur Shelby is said to be the cruellest of them all.

Your fiancé.

On the day of your wedding, you had tried to escape. Emphasis on 'tried', you had been caught before you could. By none other than your future husband himself. You had tried to convince him to help you escape, not knowing who he was, lamenting about the monster you thought your fiancé to be.

"I'm afraid i can't help you, love." He had stated.

"And why not?" You had questioned, exasperated by his quick refusal to help you, someone in clear need.

"Because I'm the monster you're supposed to be marrying right now." He had given you that awkward smile you will come to adore.

After that he had given you a choice, something his brother and your own father had refused you. You could choose your future now, and surprising no one more than yourself you said the words 'I do." a few moments later.

During your honeymoon you had gotten to know him better. You had eaten, drunk, slept, and danced together. But most importantly you had talked. He was not a man of many words and would stumble over his words anytime the conversation would go deeper than 'How did you sleep?'.

Despite this he tried. He confided in you about his youth, the war, his family, and his relationship with God. He spoke about how he used to not believe, and how that changed when he met a woman, Linda. She had shown him 'The way of The Lord', and helped him find comfort when he had none. Anytime you would try and ask what happened to her, he would get a weird look in his eyes and change the subject. Your current working theory is that she either left him or is dead. You don't want to think about the further implications of either of those options, considering the whole crime family situation and all, so you stopped asking.

Ignorance is bliss after all.

Said bliss came to an abrupt stop after the honeymoon though. Tommy had called his brother back to work and so you were left alone in the house. It is a nice house, by the countryside, beautifully decorated with all sorts of knick-knacks, and a big garden. Normally you wouldn't have minded being on your own, and you didn't at first. You had your books, your garden, and when he came back from work, you had your husband.

However the time he spent away got longer and longer with time, and when he was home he was... distant. Whatever Tommy made him do caused Arthur to slip away from you. He started spending more time with a bottle and other substances, you don't even want to know what they are, than with you. Sometimes you didn't see him for days, or even weeks at a time. It was heartbreaking, to see the man you had learned to like and even love so stressed. You had only just gained him, his trust, his love, and now you were losing him.

Tonight, you are awoken by strange noises from the other side of your bedroom. At first you assume it is Arthur, coming back home under the influence of God knows what, and you are indeed correct about it being Arthur, but when you sit up you immediately notice something is off about him.

Confused you watch as he scratches something into the wall using a palette knife, muttering incoherently to himself. You try calling his name. No response.

You try again, a bit louder this time. "Arthur, is that you?" He still doesn't respond so you get out of bed, wrapping your blanket around you and lighting the candle on your nightstand. You walk over to him, trying to understand his ramblings in the process, but you can't make sense of any of it.

"Arthur."

Suddenly he stops his repetitive muttering and scratching. He drops the palette knife and stumbles around to face you. It's like he's looking right through you. He starts walking towards the door, not sparing you another glance. Concerned you follow him.

He walks quickly and stiffly, continuing his muttering, you can vaguely make out the words 'Show yourself.'. It's like he is so sure of where he is going, yet unaware of anything around him. He moves out of your bedroom, down the stairs, through the living room and exits the house. You have to jog to keep up with him. The two of you are now in the garden.

"Arthur! It's cold. You're not wearing shoes." He is running now.

You hear him before you can catch up to him. "I see you! God, your angels. I see you!"

See who? What? And oh, oh. He is undressing now. The few clothes he was wearing are now flying through the air while he keeps shouting at the sky. "I see you! I see you! My Lord, my angel, I'm here. I'm here!"

You have never seen him like this. He has had outbursts before, sure, but they were out of anger, never this.

"I feel you, talk to me!" He exclaims, falling to the ground, pale knees turning black from the dirt.

"I knew you would come. I knew it." He stood again, reaching his hands up to the sky.

"Yes! They will see. I know. Yes!" It stunned you, seeing him like this. You think back to the times you've seen him drunk or high, but this behaviour doesn't match anything you've seen him on before.

"It is God. Do you see it?" Is he speaking to you? "Say hello! Hello, God!"

"Arthur." You finally will yourself to speak.

He gasps, looking back to the sky, but doesn't respond.

"Arthur."

Finally he turns to face you. "It is God. Say hello."

"No. I am God. Right here. I am God." The words slip from your lips before you can stop them.

"You are God?" Now he is the stunned one. "Yes." Perhaps indulging whatever this is may be the best course of action for now.

He lets out a gasp, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth. "You are God?"

"Yes. And God is going inside. You need to come with me."

"All right. I thought..." Another gasp. "I thought you were in the sky." He looks back up, confused.'

"I was in the sky, but now I am going inside. Into our house."

"Here. Here." You wrap your blanket around him, feeling the goosebumps on his arms as you do so. "Come on." You gently lead him towards your house.

“God… is indoors.” He says it more like a question.

“God is indoors. With you. I am with you.” You affirm.

Once inside you sit your husband on the couch and tell him to stay there while you go and fill up the tub. He just nods, staring blankly ahead.

You adjust the blanket on his shoulders and move to put on the kettle. While waiting for the water to boil you pick up the phone and dial Tommy's number, that fucker has some explaining to do.

He picks up after the first ring, odd, considering it's the middle of the night, but you are not going to question it. “Get over here, it’s Arthur.” You hang up before he can get a word in.

You fill up the tub with the hot water, adding colder water so it won’t burn. You fetch Arthur and he allows you to move him into the tub. Gently you start scrubbing away all the dirt, sweat, and tears from his body. Gently running the sponge over his seemingly perpetually bruised knuckles. He is shaking, mouth moving without making a sound, staring into nothing.

When you finally manage to get Arthur clean and dressed his brother barges into your bedroom. Tommy quickly addresses you before starting to march over to his brother, who is now sitting on the bed.

"Tommy." You block his way. "What is this? What is happening?" He sighs out your name while rubbing his hand over his face. Like it is exhausting to even be in the same room as you. How fucking dare he.

"Thomas!"

You have never raised your voice at him before, you haven't dared. He looks at you, finally he looks at you. You don't think he has ever looked you in the eye before.

“What has happened to my husband?”

He sighs. “It’s just The Flanders Blues, he’ll get over it.” He says it in a way that, if you hadn’t seen what you had that night you would have believed him.

You laugh at him. “Don’t bullshit me Thomas, I’ve seen shellshock this,” you point at your husband, he hasn’t moved an inch. “, is not that.”

“He was talking to the sky, Tommy. I-” Your voice breaks and you have to give yourself a moment to take a breath. You will not cry now.

“Yeah, and what difference does it make, you wouldn’t have married him if you knew.”

“I didn’t want to marry him in the first place, the whole idea of this marriage was against my will.” You take a breath, trying to calm yourself. “But if I have to be married, if I have to leave my home, my family, my life, it can’t be for a man I don’t know!”

“You should be grateful; your family is well provided for, and you could be doing so much worse, so what if he is mad!” He moves his arms exasperatedly.

“I don’t care about his sanity, I care about his happiness, I care for his soul. Let him be mad, if mad is what he needs. We are done, get out of my house.”

He looks at you with an unreadable look on his face. “Take care of him.” With that he leaves. You watch him leave, a mix of confusion and relief washing over you.

You hear Tommy’s car leave and only then you release the breath you’ve been holding. Hearing movement behind you you turn around, seeing Arthur move from the bed to the ground, sliding himself under the bed.

“Arthur?” His odd behaviour makes you worried for another outburst.

“It’s quiet here.” You close your eyes and nod your head, accepting that this is what he needs right now.

You move towards the bed, kneeling to the ground. “Is there room for one more under there? I could use some quiet too.”

He doesn’t respond but hear shuffling sounds and take that as permission and get under the bed with him. He is right, it is quiet down here.

“This has been an… exciting night, hasn’t it?” You look over at him, he looks calmer now, like he is actually here. “…Are you feeling better now?”

He nods. “Thank you, I’m sorry you had to see that.” His voice sounds hoarse. You think back to his screaming before, he sounded so desperate. Desperate to be saved, to be seen.

You swallow the lump in your throat. It broke your heart, seeing him like that, him apologising is just the cherry on top. You slowly reach over and grasp his hand into yours

“Thank you.” You aren’t exactly sure what you are thanking him for. Not letting you escape your wedding perhaps? Because despite everything that happened tonight, you are grateful to have him with you, right here, right now, under your bed, hiding from a deity in the sky.

“I love you.” You bring your intertwined hands to your lips and kiss the back of his hand.

“I don’t deserve you.” A tear rolls down his face. You use your free hand to wipe it away, cupping his cheek.

“Have me anyway.”

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

#arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #my writing #tw psychosis #tw psychotic episode

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soleilceirinen · 6 months ago

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The Portrait | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Thomas Shelby is your History professor at the university. One day he wants to meet you at his office and it scares you a bit. Definitely, you are not expecting to see what's waiting for you there. Modern AU.

Warnings: nothing.

A/N: this is short and maybe makes no sense but I just wanted to write something after not writing anything in months. Also, it's inspired by a real teacher I had, who kept a huge self portrait in his university office. It was horrible and funny at the same time.

Sorry for the English, it isn't my first language. There are probably a lot of mistakes but I don't feel like proofreading it more. Thanks for reading it!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

In the three years that you had been studying at the university, you had never been in professor Shelby’s office. Not even once. But there were rumours, each of them crazier than the next one. They said that one of the walls was covered by a bookshelf which actually was a secret door to access professor Solomon’s office, who some people believed were his secret lover. But that was nothing compared to other things you had heard, such as not going alone to his office if you were a young woman, just in case.

Of course, you didn’t believe any of this. Unfortunately, you had learned the hard way that sometimes people were mean and they would talk shit about others just out of jealousy, or self discontent. Some people had very sad and empty lifes.

It didn’t make sense to you because Thomas Shelby never messed with anyone. The man taught his classes and left, unlike other teachers who tried really hard to be friends with their students, he knew where to set the limits. He was serious and a good professor, one of the best you had ever had.

His lectures were focused on the first half of 20th Century History. Sometimes, Thomas would talk about World War I in a way that made you feel like he had been there, as if he were telling you all his memories.

On Monday you got an email from him. Your heart skipped a beat, he wanted to meet you at his office. The message was brief and concise, it just said that he wanted to talk to you, along with the appointment’s date. Now you were a nervous wreck. What did he want to talk about with you? You couldn’t know, maybe your last essay was so horrible that he wanted to say it to your face and see your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to push away all those thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal and you were creating a mountain out of a grain of sand. Besides, it made no sense to dwell on the suffering if you didn’t even know the reason why he wanted to meet.

It had been five minutes since you arrived at Mr. Shelby’s office. The only problem was that you couldn’t find the strength to knock on the closed door. You just wanted to put off the moment as long as possible.

"You can do it. Tommy doesn't bite, you know?"

The sudden presence of someone behind you made you turn around in surprise. You thought you were alone in the empty hallway but clearly you were wrong because Mr. Solomons was standing next to you, seemingly amused. After all, his office was the one next to Thomas's.

He was your professor too, although his lectures didn’t captivate you as much as those of Mr. Shelby. It wasn’t because they weren’t interesting, he specialised on Jewish History and cultural heritage, but the way he rambled was certainly disconcerting. Some days after leaving his class you weren’t even able to determine what he had been talking about since he liked to spill ideas that in theory had some kind of connection with each other.

“I know, thanks for the encouragement,” you replied quietly. He placed one of his large hands on your shoulder and gave you a friendly squeeze before walking past you, as he headed towards his own office.

Mr. Shelby's deep voice invited you in from the other side of the door. You entered slowly, fixing your gaze on the floor. He waited, sitting on the other side of the desk as he watched you with interest.

“How are you, Y/N?”

The answer died in your throat the moment you gathered enough courage to look up in order to meet his blue eyes. Mr. Shelby stared at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised. You covered your mouth with your hand, the last thing you wanted to do now was bursting into laughter but you couldn’t take your eyes away from the painting.

Right behind him, almost covering the whole surfice of the wall, hung a huge portrait. It wasn’t a photograph, it looked like an oil painting on canvas. In it appeared Mr. Shelby, who was wearing the kind of clothes that men would probably wear back in the 1920’s, standing next to a majestic white horse. Slowly, your eyes moved from the painting to the man in front of you.

Who in his right mind has a painting like that in their university office? It was the tackiest thing you had seen in a long time. Definitely, not what you were expecting to find there.

“Y/N?”

Mr. Shelby's soft voice brought you back to reality. To the here and now. "Yes, good. And you?"

"Not bad. You'll wonder why I summoned you today," he said, as he rummaged through the piles of papers and books that littered his desk. You made a small noise of confirmation, so he continued speaking. "I really liked your last essay about the role of women in society during World War I. Have you ever been to France?"

You tilted your head to the side, for a moment nothing made sense. What did one thing have to do with the other? You kept looking at the portrait, as if the answer was painted somewhere there. "France?"

At your bewildered face, Mr. Shelby laughed softly. It sounded as if he were letting out a gust of air. His eyes shined gently, he seemed to be in a good mood. “Yes, the country. The university’s History department has been offered a student exchange with a French university. It’s only a week but in five days you can do many things. I was talking to Mr. Solomons and we agreed that you are one of our most promising students, it might be interesting for you to go.”

"Really? I don't know what to say..." you mumbled, your cheeks turning red and warm. You wanted to cry, or laugh, or both. "I've never been to France, I don't even speak French."

Mr. Shelby found what he was looking for. He placed a form in front of you and pointed his finger at it. "Think about it. If you decide to go, fill this out and bring it to me in a couple of days. It's a great opportunity," he added.

Nodding, you took the form and put it carefully between your notes so it wouldn’t get all wrinkled. “Thank you so much for considering me,” you finally said, truly grateful.

You looked one last time at the painted version of Thomas. His cold eyes returned an icy stare from above, with an almost cruel expression. He seemed so distant, like someone who no longer has anything to lose. It made you wonder, in the first place, the history behind the painting. Did he commission it? Why? Anyway, he could have hung it at his house, not there.

Before stepping out of the office, you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. What you weren’t expecting was Thomas returning the smile back at you, but he did and for a brief moment, his face lit up. That face couldn’t be further away from the hard features of his painted version.

As you walked down the hallway you shook your head. So many nerves for nothing. It also infuriated you a little bit to think about all the shit people said about him behind his back, all rumours, since nobody ever mentioned the painting.

However, you had something clear. Despite the bad reputation that preceded him, you kind of liked Thomas Shelby. He had the most incredible pair of blue eyes and the worst taste when it came to decoration, but nobody is perfect.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #modern!tommy shelby #peaky blinders au #professor!tommy shelby #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #reader insert

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pinguwrites · 1 year ago

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Black Heart | Chapter One: Evening Cigarettes

Pairing -> Thomas Shelby x fem!poc!reader

Summary -> The year is 1920, and you have no idea how you got here. One moment, you were in your bed, and the next, you were lying in a field of grass, thousands of miles away from home. All you know is that you're in a small town called Birmingham, and you need money. Fortunately, the local gangster is in the market for an accountant, and you're in the market for a job.

Warnings -> swearing, mentions of racism, suicide joke, reader kinda has a dark sense of humor, tommy being a bit of an ass, sorry for the short chapter

REWRITTEN 9/29/23 - CURRENTLY ON HOLD

Word count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Series Masterlist

There wasn’t much to be said about Birmingham. It was a small city, located somewhere in England, filled with dirty streets and coal-stained men and nothing of any interest at all. For the past few days, you had been walking around the place in an almost dream-like haze, searching for food scraps and pieces of suitable clothing, wondering why the fuck you were here and how.

It’s all those movies you’ve been watching, your mom’s voice rings in your head. Too much fantasy and not enough reality.

A part of you wondered if you should have listened to her words, if this world you were now a part of was the result of an overactive imagination and a desperate desire to escape reality. Maybe this was some cruel trick the universe decided to play on you, maybe you had passed out and all of this was a sort of long-term coma. Perhaps it was a mass prank and everyone here was just actors — but you thought that to be highly unlikely, given, you know, common sense.

The only other possibility you could come up with was time travel. Even if it was probable, there were so many questions: Why you? Why this time?

No, you’d just stick to the most simple and likely answer: you were fucking insane. Right now, in the real world, you were being locked up in some mental facility, strapped to a bed, and being monitored by doctors and nurses. Your mom was in tears, wondering where she had gone wrong with raising her daughter, and you were oblivious, wandering around in the year 1920, with no way to get back.

You kicked a pebble, watching it roll across the dirt ground. While that was the going theory, you still didn’t know what to do. Your instinct to survive was just as strong as any other day, and you were still plagued with hunger, pain, and fear.

So far, you had no proper shelter, no stable source of food and water (though the nearby well and some restaurant scraps were doing just fine for now), and you had nothing acceptable to wear except a dirty gray dress you found in some dumpster-like area. You had actually cleaned the damn thing yesterday, but it still had this nasty stench like foul body odor, and a couple of ripped holes. It was at least better than the clothes you were wearing beforehand — a white, loose, crop top and some fuzzy shorts, which had garnered nothing but stares of disgust and pity when you walked around in them. I’m naked to them, you realized, and that was when you made the endeavor to search for new clothing; as well as the fact that your modern outfit was doing nothing to protect you from the bitter chill.

Not that this dress was doing any better. You predicted that you would die soon from the weather. Probably in your sleep. While you hadn’t found any shelter, you did find a little corner by the side of an apartment building. That’s where your body would be found, all frozen to death like meat in a fridge. But what else were you supposed to do? It was the best place you had.

You continued walking down the road, kicking that same pebble again. Your toes and fingers were numb and you were sure that you were going to get a cold, though that was the least of your worries.

The sky was a dark gray and it seemed like it was going to rain soon. You looked up from the ground and glanced over the area, a habit you picked up ever since you saw someone getting mugged here. The entire city of Birmingham felt like a small town, with its little businesses and shops along the side of the unpaved road. Occasionally a few people would walk past you. They would either ignore you and mind their own business, or stare at you like you were some exotic specimen. Fucking racist pricks.

You reached into your bag — thank god you had a bag on you when you were transported here — and pulled out your phone. It was dead, but you kept checking it out of habit. Not like you could call anyone even if it was charged, but it would have been nice to spend your last moments watching a good movie or scrolling through old pictures to reminisce about the past.

Everything else in the bag was just hand sanitizer, a mask from COVID days (oh, God, what if I’m carrying COVID and spread it?), lip balm, and a small pocket knife. All things you were glad to have, but not particularly useful. It would have been nice to have a book on survival in the wilderness, or a lighter.

You sighed, your breath coming out in a white smoke in the bitter air. You wanted to crawl into a ball and collapse. You wanted your mom to hold you, or your friends to lighten the mood with silly jokes. Why did this have to happen? Why me?

When you arrived at the apartment you were ready to curl up and sleep, but you noticed a flickering sound, and turned around to see a man, leaning against the wall of the opposite building.

He was handsome, with a gray cap and a dusty black coat on. He seemed to be stopping only for a moment, lighting the cigarette between his fingers before moving on, but he noticed your stare and gave you a cold look.

“You need something?” he asked, in that same, strong British accent you heard everyone around here speak in.

“No.” You shook your head, feeling a little bad for blatantly staring. “My bad.”

The man took a puff of his cigarette. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so, I’ve never seen you before.”

His facial expression didn’t change. It was in that same cold stare. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, I’ve never seen you before,” you repeated yourself, getting a little irritated. Your day was already going bad — scratch that, your whole week had been a fucking roller coaster, and now you had to deal with an arrogant prick who thought he was shit. “Are you some kind of celebrity?”

“You’re American,” he stated, ignoring your question. “Tell me, Miss . . .?”

“[Y/N],” you said.

“Miss [Y/N]. Tell me what a girl like you is doing in Birmingham?”

“I’m not quite sure,” you responded honestly. “What are you doing here?” you asked, not enjoying his attitude. “What’s your name?”

“You’re a cheeky lass, sweetheart.” He grinned a little, amused, like this was all funny to him. “My name is Thomas Shelby. And this is my town.” He paused, his grin dropping. A horrible feeling sunk in your gut. “I ought to know who lives in my town, eh?”

He took a puff of his cigarette. “Come here, sweetheart.”

You hesitated but walked forward a little, ready to run at a moment’s notice. He had that dumb hairstyle every man here was rocking, but it fit him. It made him look nice.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. But then the man called Thomas Shelby offered you a cigarette and asked, “Are you a whore?”

You stood there, stunned, not accepting his offer. “No.”

He looked you up and down again. “How old are you? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Eighteen.”

He didn’t say anything to that or indicate that he was surprised.

��You have family ‘round here?”

You shook your head, thoughts running wild.

He must be a gangster. Like Al Capone, only British, you thought, feeling nervous. What was he going to do to you? He wouldn’t harm you, would he?

Of course he’s going to harm you. That’s what men like him do.

“Ran away, eh? Nice story.”

“I never said I ran away,” you said, thinking you ought to stop this conversation right now and bolt in the opposite direction out of this town.

“Then what happened?” He walked closer to you. His face was neutral, but you could tell he was suspicious, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking all these questions. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Good. Now, will you leave me alone?” Your voice dropped to a more quiet tone. “Please?”

Mr. Shelby looked like he was thinking. “This isn’t a safe place for young girls like you,” he finally said. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he gestured to the streets, “alone, with no one to protect you.”

“I’m doing just fine” you retorted, but made an effort to sound as polite as you could.

“Fine?” He took a look at your clothing. “Yes, very suitable. I’m sure you enjoy being homeless.”

“I’m not homeless,” you defended, even though you were, indeed, homeless.

Being reminded of your hopeless situation made tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt silly for wanting to cry, especially in front of him, but it was all just so hard. You didn’t feel right getting upset, other people had and were facing worse, but all you could think about was how much you wanted to eat a hot home-cooked meal and a nice bed to sleep in.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked.

“Do you like it when people cry?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then you should leave me alone, because I probably will.”

You averted your eyes, feeling ashamed for admitting that to a random stranger, a stranger who was probably judging you right now, a stranger who was probably a fucking criminal.

Mr. Shelby walked even closer, to the point where you were now just a feet apart. You could see the freckles scattered across his face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some paper money, handing it over to you. “You see that building?” He pointed to the one beside you, the one you’d been sleeping behind. “This should be enough to get you a few day’s stay.”

You were stunned, hesitantly taking the pounds and blinking the tears away. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Just doing a decent man’s work, sweetheart.” He looked into your eyes. “Last I remember, the landlady of this building is hiring a maid. Ask her about it, tell her that Thomas Shelby referred you here.”

You agreed, not wanting to say anything that would make him change his mind, but you were still wondering why he changed his mind. Did he like it when girls cried? Did it make him feel like a hero? Was he planning to use you later for something? You didn’t know, and no matter how many times you tried to guess, it was useless, because you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Thank you, sir,” you breathed out, feeling a little bad for your snippiness.

He nodded his head at you, lingering for a moment before walking in the opposite direction. You watched him until he was out of sight, a warm feeling in your tummy.

You walked into the apartment, finally inside a building for the first time in a while. You told the landlady, an old Asian woman, that Mr. Shelby had referred you to this place and the job. She took the money and eagerly offered you a room to stay, though you noticed a fearful hint in her eyes.

She got you a warm bath, saying that you must tell Mr. Shelby that she was very happy to take you in — subtlety, of course, and lead you to your new room.

You laid down on the bed, taking in the comfort of the sheets. Very quickly, you fell asleep, drifting off into a slumber after a long day.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #black heart #pinguwrites

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elleejayy · 8 months ago

Text

A SIMS 3 LEGACY

TV SHOW LEGACY

The rules are simple: Complete all requirements for a generation to advance onto the next. Cheats to be used at your own discretion, though it’s more fun without.

GENERATION 1: ELENA GILBERT - THE VAMPIRE DIARIES

TRAITS: Over-Emotional, Dramatic, Brave, Family-Orientated, Hopeless Romantic. Any LTW, Any Career - Do NOT have to complete either.

Start in a fresh, untouched save.

Have 2 Best Friends.

Fall in love with a sim

Then fall in love with their sibling.

Have 2 children (2 boys) with second sim.

Die as an Adult. Accidental or on purpose.

Following your death, your partner has a One Night Stand that results in a baby.

GENERATION 2: DEAN WINCHESTER - SUPERNATURAL

TRAITS: Good Sense of Humour, Family-Orientated, Supernatural Sceptic, Flirty, Brave LTW: Surrounded by Family Any Career

Start as a teen, in a new town.

Never develop any close relationships with anyone except your younger brother.

Have a negative relationship with Father.

Meet your Half-Sibling as a Young Adult.

Move out with your younger brother.

Meet the love of your life at a bar.

Have 5 Children with her.

Have a One night stand with a Werewolf, results in an affair baby. (This will be your heir!)

GENERATION 3: NIKLAUS MIKAELSON - THE ORIGINALS

TRAITS: Mean Spirited, Brooding, Supernatural Fan, Kleptomaniac, Unstable LTW: Leader of the Pack No Career Allowed

Start as a teenager.

Have a negative relationship with father, step-mother and half-siblings.

Earn all money through collecting/hunting as a werewolf.

Have an affair with a siblings partner, affair baby comes from this. (This will be your heir!)

Adopt a teenager, turn them into a werewolf.

Only have a close relationship with your children.

GENERATION 4: JACE HERONDALE - SHADOWHUNTERS

TRAITS: Brave, Charismatic, Good Sense of Humour, Athletic, Daredevil LTW: World Renowned Surgeon CAREER: Medicine

If a werewolf, get cured. You don’t want to harm anyone.

As a young adult, disown your werewolf parent.

Meet the love of your life at work.

Have 2 children.

Have 2 children who are siblings, your adoptive family.

GENERATION 5: CLEO SERTORI - H20 JUST ADD WATER

TRAITS: Shy, Hydrophobic, Family-Orientated, Hopeless Romantic, Clumsy LTW: Resort Empire No Career Allowed

Start as a teen, ideally in Isla Paradiso.

Make 2 best friends.

Find the abandoned resort, buy it.

Fall in love with a visitor to the resort.

Have as many children as you desire.

Optional: Become a mermaid.

GENERATION 6: LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR - LUCIFER

TRAITS: Party Animal, Perceptive, Inappropriate, Flirty, Great Kisser LTW: Pervasive Private Eye CAREER: Private Investigator

Move town.

Master Mixology skill.

Become a Casanova/Natasha OR Slimeball.

Throw a party as least once a week.

Have as many children as you desire.

GENERATION 7: FALLON CARRINGTON - DYNASTY

TRAITS: Charismatic, Born Salesperson, Diva, Proper, Perfectionist LTW: CEO of a Mega-Corporation CAREER: Business

Master charisma skill.

Max Business career.

Throw a dinner party once a season.

Own 3 different venues in town.

Have 5 children, 4 boys & 1 girl.

GENERATION 8: THOMAS SHELBY - PEAKY BLINDERS

TRAITS: Athletic, Born Salesperson, Disciplined, Unlucky, Over-Emotional LTW: Master Romancer CAREER: Criminal

Master Athletic Skill.

Take up gambling, a few times a week. [Sims 3 Store]

Endless failed relationships, until you meet the one when you’re days away from being an adult.

Have a set of twins.

When the twins are teens, one must die (or disappear).

GENERATION 9: CHERYL BLOSSOM - RIVERDALE

TRAITS: Unstable, Great Kisser, Irresistible, Neurotic, Rebellious LTW: Super Popular Any Career.

Be best friend with your twin before they die/disappear.

Own a motorbike.

Max Rebel social group.

Final love as a young adult with another rebel.

Have as many children as you desire.

GENERATION 10: SHELDON COOPER - THE BIG BANG THEORY

TRAITS: Genius, Hydrophobic, Loser, Computer Whiz, Socially Awkward LTW: Perfect Student CAREER: Science

You’re smart, attending university is a must.

Honor roll as a child and teen, A+. Always complete homework.

Perfect GPA.

Master Science skill.

Master Logic skill.

Master Gardening skill.

Master Handiness Skill.

Master Fishing Skill.

Master Arcade Machine skill. [Hidden]

Have a Plant Sim baby.

Scientifically engineer a baby.

Have an Alien Baby. [This is your heir!]

Die a virgin.

GENERATION 11: MASTER CHIEF - HALO

TRAITS: Athletic, Brave, Genius, Ambitious, Hot-Headed LTW: Become an Astronaut CAREER: Military

Live in Lunar Lakes, or a Custom Alien World

Master Athletic skill.

Master Handiness Skill.

Find love with a Supernatural Sim.

Have as many hybrid children as you desire.

Have a Holo disc pet.

GENERATION 12: HOPE MIKAELSON - THE ORIGINALS/LEGACIES

TRAITS: Brave, Genius, Family-Orientated, Loner, Light Sleeper LTW: Alchemy Artisan CAREER: Alchemist

As a child, you’re sent to boarding school.

As a teenager, you focus on learning more about your supernatural abilities.

Master Alchemy skill.

Earn money from selling elixirs at the Consignment store.

Have as many children as you desire.

Accidentally leave a Bottled Curse of the Lycan out for your heir to drink.

GENERATION 13: DEREK HALE - TEEN WOLF

TRAITS: Grumpy, Brooding, Night Owl, Perceptive, Good LTW: Leader of the Pack Any Career.

Become a werewolf as a teenager.

Turn a few people on Full Moons.

Master Lycanthropy Skill.

Buy Alpha Wolf Lifetime Reward.

Have a single child later in life, as an older adult.

GENERATION 14: ALISON DILAURENTIS - PRETTY LITTLE LIARS

TRAITS: Ambitious, Charismatic, Dramatic, Snob, Family-Orientated Any LTW CAREER: Education

Optional: Cure Lycanthropy

Move to a new town after your parent has died of old age. (You can speed this up with Trigger Age Transition)

Have 4 Best Friends

Date and marry one of your best friends

Adopt one child, due to fertility issues.

GENERATION 15: RACHEL BERRY - GLEE

TRAITS: Star Quality, Snob, Natural Born Performer, Excitable, Diva LTW: Vocal Legend CAREER: Singer

Live in a New York-style world.

Master Singing skill. [Hidden]

Have 3 friends.

Be a 5-Star celebrity.

Marry someone with the Athletic trait.

Have as many children as you desire.

GENERATION 16: RICK GRIMES - THE WALKING DEAD

TRAITS: Brave, Charismatic, Brooding, Heavy Sleeper, Fmaily-Orientated LTW: International Super Spy CAREER: Law Enforcement

Move to a small town world.

Master logic skill.

Master Athletic skill.

Have 1 best friend.

Get married to a townie.

Have 1 child with the townie.

Your partner has an affair with your best friend, resulting in a baby.

Raise the baby as your own.

#ts3 #ts3 legacy #ts3 legacy challenge #sims 3 legacy #sims 3 #sims 3 legacy challenge #s3 #s3 legacy #s3 legacy challenge

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