#reminds me a bit of when i go to book club and we're discussing a random book by up and coming young usamerican author

[garbagequeer]

barbie discourse annoys me because like the normal person who doesn't hate women part of it just boils down to this movie about a specific doll that is a product of the brand that got the movie made and did huge publicity stunts for it is an advertisement but said as if it's a breakthrough to see that. like. and 1+1 is 2. can we get smarter in here

[twst-drabbles]

Hi!! Hope we can still send these in :)

Dude, the sience bros would be my clutch lmao. First of all, I think that joining the sience club as someone from our world would just be a slay move in general. I go to an arts school, so I'm not the most involved person out there, but I think even our basic understanding of sience could make for insightful experiences. Just comparing our sience basics to their science basics could be really cool! And hey, if we happen to make an ingenius discovery along the way? Or Just happen to mention Newton's Law and get a Twisted equivelent to the Nobel Prize? I mean... It's the benefits. Maybe we can even decipher a way home lol

But I digress.

I completely agree with anon. Trey Clover because food. If I'm isakied to another world without any money, people who food will be my life-line and absolute favorites. But also, with all the insane shenanigains that go on in NRC? I'm gonna need someone to share an exasperated side eye with. Clover's experience as a junior would just be helpful in general, especially when succeeding from the side lines. I don't enjoy parading my victories around, so being able to take after his example by mostly avoiding conflict while still doing good for ourselves would be nice :) And if we ever wanna prank some people... i think it'd be kinda funny to be the perpetrators AND the least suspected people in the room😂😂

Also, Rook! I mentioned before that I go to art school, so exposure to different media and insightful disscusion/ critique is something I hold dear! In the incredebly survival-of-the-fittest-dog-eat-dog-testostorone-filled-dick-measuring-contest that is our darling NRC, I would heavily consider shrivling away. Still! A lot of the boys can be incredbly passionate about their artistic forms of expression :) From Malleus and his music, and of course Vil and his acting career, I'd respect them so much! But- many of those same boys don't feel the most approachable about more vulnrable discussions. And not even talking about art in a fancy-smanchy way. I wanna talk poetry! Point out how one of my classmate's eyes remind me of nickles, or how the tiles of the school reminded me of hop-skotch! I want to brain-rot about a book and rant about how the thematic elements reflect reality! I concur with Rook's appreciation of beauty in everywhere he looks, and I'd have a lot of fun with him just pointing out the mundane things we admire :) 

Would be weirded out by the stalking though... ha... haha

People I'd dislike? Azul. Probably Azul. Gosh, knowing his backstory as a viewer I want to sweep him into his arms and tell him he's beautiful and has the most darling blue eyes. I mean??? Babe?? An OCTO-mer???? That's so cool!!! Realistically though, I would be a bit disgusted by what he does. I'd still conversate with him, and appreciate his buissnessman-smile face, but deep down I'd try to avoid him. We're already stuck in a world with no money, connections, or information. I don't need the weight of a deal on my back.

Also I want to punt Crowley like a football. At this point I want to high-tail it to RSA and ask them what they know about reality-travelling shenanigains lmao. Hope you're having a good day!!

No worries, you can send them in any time. I was just cooking myself something.

Considering that magic is a profession you can study for in this world, that implies that magic itself is a predictable enough phenomenon that it can be studied, tested and recorded. Though, obviously the main magical classes don't quite account for signature spells since I imagine it would require quite the number of layers in magic spells to be able to replicate them. I know officially signature spells are so unique that they can't be replicated, but in my own head, it's less that it's impossible to replicate and more that it's difficult and tedious to do so with general magic means. The life of an individual, their own stories determine what kind of signature spell manifests in a person, hence why I have the headcanon that ancient magic of old had spell incantations that were fairy tales. Basically, each spell was treated as it's own form of unique magic waaaay back in the day, before more modern, common means of magic were developed.

So yeah, magic science. Any little science nerd would go nuts over this.

"In the incredebly survival-of-the-fittest-dog-eat-dog-testostorone-filled-dick-measuring-contest that is our darling NRC" Yea that really is NRC in a nutshell huh? Funnily enough, I actually had a little short-lived fantasy where the reader comes from an even more testosterone filled world, I'm talking about "gang wars but with colleges" type deal. Buff guys all around wanting to challenge you, to prove their worth and be become the ultra alpha chad or whatever the hell they label it these days. Almost Baki levels of crazy, but not quite, still following some lines of logic. Basically Reader takes one look at Jack, Leona and Rook and go "you are babies to me," not in the adoptive way, but in the, "I would steal your candy."

And speaking of poetry, it's actually my worst skill in all of my writing. See, as you've said, poetry usually does require a certain level of emotional vulnerability, or at least be willing to dip into those emotions and memories and have them come out. Stuffing as much meaning as possible to just a few words. Personal layers that become easier to peel back the more you understand the author, buuuuuut, I'm super private. Incredibly so, and so stuck in this apathetic state of mine that my poetry is bland. It doesn't have any specific details that make it unique. Bare boooones. So rather than remarking on what my classmates eyes remind me of, I'd remark how the sunlight loves the color. Or how the line of the tiles cut through and separate a whole bunch of students apart despite being stuck together. Observer type poems, rather than looking internally.

Wouldn't it be so ironic that the first friend you make was Rook of all people? After avoiding just about everyone "normal," you let Rook talk to you? You're willing to hang out with him? Rook stalks but it's never with the intention of hurting you or controlling you in anyway. If it bothers you enough, Rook is emotionally intelligent enough to leave things well enough alone. Rook stalks Leona but Leona doesn't register Rook as a threat in any way, just an annoyance. Hence why Rook keeps stalking him. So if does give you genuine nightmares, yeah he will stop.

Azul will find those legal loopholes when he can and already that puts him on my shit list. That and I don't like owing that smug motherfucker anything. He lords deals over peoples heads and I refuse to give him any sort of satisfaction just because he was bullied.

Same on the RSA route. Would not hesitate. Like, even if I end up friends with everyone, I would still leave for RSA cause at least their headmage is reliable. I can't stand being under the authority of someone like Crowley even if my friends are there. My well being comes first.

[aliypop]

Back To Black : Chapter 2

Word Count: 4,304

Writers Notes: So Chapter 1 was a little clunky and I’ll definitely go back to fix it, but lets hope for the better with Chapter which is taking place in the middle bits of Season 2 and the beginning of Season 3

Warning: Show violence and language Suggestive themes

Pairing: OC ( Eleanor Williams ) / Thomas Shelby

Plot: What happens When the Williams Family makes their grand return back to London from a war stricken France to only find the rocks of war and the runts of crime the Shelby family slowly leaking into their world,

1922 - The Pearl Club

"Are you sure that's all of it, boss?" Myrtle asked, counting over the money they had made, "If it isn't someone's losing a fucking finger..." Eleanor scoffed. She knew that there were times when others would rip her off clean from under her nose, but not anymore. Eleanor would come on top even if she had to kill to do it.

 "Can we just hurry this up?" Eleanor asked, her patience wearing thinner than her nightgowns. "We're going as fast as we can." Virginia rolled her eyes,

 "Besides, why does it matter to you." Virginia questioned, "Is the virgin pearl meetin, someone."

"I'm fucking sick of you, you know." Eleanor laughed, pushing her sister away, 

"Yes, I have a meeting.No you don't know them." she rolled her eyes, 

"Can I-"

"No, you can't come either. It's a two-person party." Eleanor nearly beamed. Sure she was excited to discuss the distribution of Gin with Thomas no interruptions, just him and her talking, getting to feel him out as even as a potential alliance between families, especially with his other businesses. They maybe could've been a great partner. Hell, even friends, if either one allowed it. 

"Fine, then I'll be out with Ada anyways?"

"Who's Ada?"

"Don't worry about it." Virginia smirked, tilting her hat, toothpick in her mouth, "You just try to have a goodnight." she turned to look at her sister, "That isn't going to happen. It's just strictly business." she mumbled under her breath, "Just business," walking to her library she looked over at a couple of books, some that her grandfather had gifted and some from her mother that Eleanor kept around, but no matter what, Eleanor always went back to The Hunchback of Notre- Dame, reminding her of the side she wasn't always proudest of,

 Yet everyone who knew always seemed to remind her of it. Opening the book, she lost track of time, engulfed in the beauty of France she wished to know until she heard a soft knock at her door.

 Grabbing for her gun under her draw, Eleanor closed her book, peeping over the lamp, sitting to her right,

 "Enter slowly... hands up-"

"Songbird, It's just me and some young man who says he knows you," Louis said, poking his head in,

"Did he give a name?" 

"Thomas Shelby... Eleanor Vadoma Williams, he's bad news..." 

"Know your onions, and so are we," she gave her father a nod. Watching him walk in, she noticed his hat was missing, his hair a bit tussled, 

"I assume one of my girls searched you?" gesturing to his head, "They did. I'll say it's been a first to encounter a group of solider women." he laughed as she gestured to the seat across from her, 

"I'm sorry if it all seems strange. It's protocol with the shutdowns of clubs going on." Eleanor smiled, taking out a cigarette as Thomas leaned in to light it, the slight whiff of his scent gracing her nostrils,

 "Nah, I get it, same things going 'round Birmingham." lighting his own cigarette, 

"So what can I do you for Mr. Shelby."

"Tommy, call me Tommy."

"Well, Tommy, how can we here at The Black Pearl Oyster Company help you." she began to lean in closer towards him, 

" You said you could export my Gin." 

"Of course, and for half the money Solomon's charging you,"

"Is that so."

"He may know Gin, but we own a jazz establishment where the Gin is cold and the piano's hot."

"Well, Ms. Williams..."

"Eleanor, call me Eleanor."

"Well, Eleanor, what makes you so sure I'd want to do business with you."

"I know you have several of your men positioned outside, ready to strike if I don't give you what you want." snapping her fingers as the scuffle of heels was heard, 

"But I have several women ready to fire if you think of making a wrong move." Tommy snarled. He always enjoyed a  cat-and-mouse game, but if she wanted to play coy, he wouldn't allow her to. 

"Tell me, love, what're you tryin to get out of me."

"Nothing," she lied, and he knew it. He could tell how her body tensed when his ice-blue eyes pierced her soul. 

"If I had to guess, your club is failing in drinks, and you want to prove to your daddy, you can make the cut before he relinquishes your power to someone deemed fit." his words, like knives, just because he was right didn't mean he had to say it, 

"You think you're so fucking clever, don't you, 'cause you're a rich girl, and you get what you want by snappin your fuckin fingers."

"Careful, Shelby. You're one insult away from starting a war," she said behind gritted teeth, standing up from behind her desk, 

"What the fuck do you know about war."

"My entire life was a war, but yer heads so far up yer ass ya ears are so full of shit you wouldn't know what someone TRYING TO HELP YOU sounds like!" Tommy stood up, stomping his cigarette onto her wooden floorboards, standing closer to the woman before him. He was as furious as the devil sitting in a church next to God himself. But this time, he couldn't turn away, 

"You watch your fucking mouth and how ya talk to me." Tommy growled, "Or what. You'll shoot me." stepping closer towards him, not afraid of the man before her, "Nah, I don't shoot women, but I'll make you regret the day you ever crossed me."

"Then make me... Mr. Shelby," pushing him up against her bookcase, his hand around her waist, he was surprised she made the first move. 

Flipping her so that he was looming over her. Eleanor looked at his lips, then his eyes, then back at his lips, "Have we got a deal..." she asked, feeling his lips trail down her neck, his hand hiking up her dress, he hadn't even done anything to the extreme, and she was already lost,

 "I want half of what the house makes," he whispered in her ear. 

"I can... Fuck do that." his hands crept up her thigh, "Good girl," he leaned in to kiss her. Eleanor's eyes were closed, ready to feel his lips on hers again. Inches away, she could feel it her hands tangled in his hair.

BLAM

"Oye, what's takin you so damn long-" Arthur shouted, kicking her office door in noticing how disheveled they both looked,

 "Tommy, we're fuckin leaving by order of The Peaky fuckin Blinders." 

"We can discuss this further over dinner." kissing the corner of her mouth Tommy took her cigarette, puffing on the rest that was left. 

"What was that about Thomas," 

"Business, something you're too drunk to know about." he teased, taking back his hat and his guns, 

"Besides, we want to move up in the world. The Williams could be our ticket to a better life," the two began to walk outside the club, passing a Mercedes Benz along the way. "John quit flirting with the enemy," Arthur growled, watching his brother surrounded by a group of women, 

"And where's Finn. Aye, Finn!"

 Sitting by Tommy's car next to Finn was Claudette wearing her nightgown and robe, the two both keeping watch. "So, hows Isaiah doing." she asked, making small talk, something she was never good at, "Well, he and Michael got arrested," Finn began to laugh, 

"For what?"

"Settin a pub on fire." 

"And he got caught," she scoffed, "How fucking pathetic, everyone knows if you're gonna burn something to the ground, you wait when everyone's asleep or get someone else to do it," she rolled her eyes, "It's common knowledge,"  she grumbled as Finn laughed, at that moment he could see all the attraction to Michael leave her eyes, and he could hopefully slip into her heart if she'd let him, 

"Well, you know there's this girl I've been seein and-"

"What's she like?"

"She's something..." Finn started as Claudette sat closer to him, "She's fiery, short-tempered, got curly hair like cotton candy." he began to swoon, his freckles more apparent by his blushing, 

"Does she know what you do?"

"She's a big fan of it, sometimes even a big help," he smirked, "Did you tell her you like her?" she asked, feeling a drop of rain. He placed his overcoat and his hat on her head, 

"No,"

"Then tell her!"

"I like you."

"Yeah, just like that." she nudged him, "Same tone and everythin."

"Finn !!." Tommy shouted, looking as he saw the two in the car, 

"Will I see you at The Garrison,"

"Will Isaiah and Michael be there?"

"Yes."

Small Heath

"You know I might have feelings for you," Virginia said, leaning in the kitchen doorway, "I've had them since the day we met." Ada smiled, making a small breakfast for the two before Virginia headed home. The house was small, or at least it's what she thought, of course, not knowing that just behind those walls was the gambling den with all the information she could send back to Andre if his pompous heart desired it. "Yeah, right." Virginia laughed, giving her a quick kiss on the nose,

 "It's true," Ada chuckled. Ada and Virginia didn't really have a title for what they were. They were happy, and Karl was calm in her arms whenever Virginia held him. "Ada, are the boys here...Who the hell is this? Polly asked, looking between the two, 

"Mrs. Shelby, I'm a friend of Ada's" looking her up and down, Polly gave a smirk, knowing what was going on, "And is that your friend's lipstick on your suit collar Ms.?" she questioned, 

"Virginia Williams, Mrs," her face red and bashful, 

"And are you Catholic, Ms. Williams." taking heed of the crucifix adorning her neck,

"Pol!"

"We've already got a no-good singing Protestant running around here. We don't need another tarnishing the faith." Polly commented with her cigarette as Virginia snickered, 

"I was raised Catholic, never miss a prayer or a service unless I have to," Virginia grinned. Polly still studied her, but the harder she tried to, she couldn't see anything that would tempt her off, 

"Polly, we're just friends," Ada stated as Virginia gave her a wink, 

"And so were a few of my close friends." Polly chuckled, "Your secrets are safe with me." Virginia pulled Ada close giving her a quick peck on the cheek, 

"I should get going."

"You'll stay, and you'll eat. A workin woman such as yourself needs a good breakfast if she's going to run a successful brothel." Polly winked, 

"You've heard of me?"

"I knew your aunt very well..."

"Mr. Shelby, there's a woman at your 'ouse." a street kid said, running up towards him as another followed, 

"She was in there with Ada, an another with 'er same colour came off the train just early today." Tommy nodded, 

"Thank you, now go buy yourselves something good, eh." walking into The Garrison, 

Tommy went inside his private room, where he usually played cards or had family meetings, but this meeting was different. Sitting across from him was his brother Julian, who looked terrified.

 "We've gotten soft on ya, brother, mostly cause Pol feels sympathy for ya, and you know that," folding his hands on the table, 

"I understand you want to show you're a big boy to hold your own, but you're still fucking sloppy." he nearly spat out, 

"Tommy, I-"

"I wasn't finished fucking talking. You think we're idiots not knowin you were sneakin off to London putting company money into a fucking brothel," he laughed, 

"How'd you know..."

"Hired a Lee boy named Lorcan. Lee's say he's a good spy and assassin, Pol says he's our half brother." taking a sip of his whiskey,

 "Are you kickin me out the family," 

"No, Polly says we shouldn't, " Tommy groaned, annoyed that he cared about Polly and her opinions, 

"Instead, I have a mission for you. "

"What is it..." 

"Well, I heard your club is hostin the Josephine Baker tonight, " Isaiah smirked as Claudette rolled her eyes, sipping on her sarsaparilla, 

"You heard right." she smiled, "Thin is I don't get to meet her," she sighed, 

"Why not?" Isaiah questioned,

"I'm not allowed in the club when it's opperatin." 

"Who's rules are those?" Finn asked, raising his cup of beer to his lips, 

"My parents... and my sisters," 

"Sounds like Polly and Tommy," the boys both said, a sneaky, taunting slither in their laugh, 

"If you wanna do  something, warn your brother that those men over there are plannin to ambush him."

 "How'd you know that?" Finn asked as she sipped through her straw, 

"You can take the girl out of Small Heath Birmingham, but you can't take Small Heath out the girl."

London

"Eleanor, can we talk..." Andre asked, ushering his sister off stage, "Can it wait?" walking past him to her dressing room, "No, it can't, my office now." his grip on her arm was tight. Andre threw her past the doors and into his slightly smaller office. He then looked up at his sister, "What do I owe this meeting to?"

"A check was written out to The Shelby Company Limited without my permission," 

"I don't have to do everything with your permission." Eleanor mumbled, "You may be the oldest, but I'm the leader," she stepped up to him, "The Shelbys are gonna eat you alive, Solomon told me himself." his cigar hanging from his mouth,

 "And when the main one, Thomas fucks you over like he did Sabini and takes everything this family worked for, good luck ever talking to me you here," he snarled at her, his words like a leash around her neck, 

"He's going to fuck you over and leave."  

"Isn't that how business goes." Eleanor winked, sure she knew what he said could be right. After all, things had been a bit different since she'd met Tommy, and the atmosphere around had the scent of the devil, a familiar one she'd dealt with many times and shook hands with, "Eleanor if you talk to him I-"

"You'll sit there and hide behind your fucking numbers trembling behind your revolver." 

"Eleanor-"

"Shush."

"Don't you fucking shush-"

BANG!

"Ouch!" Claudette groaned, feeling the door hit her in the back, "Eavesdropping gets you nowhere, Ms. Willaims," Eleanor teased, "Now, if you excuse me, I have to get changed," she sighed, 

"And see that Ms. Baker and Claudette arrive at their destinations safely," she ordered, going into her dressing room. There sat Jessy holding a dress, Abigail with the matching hat, and Rose with the gloves,  "When I said  you three would go to protect me, I didn't mean for you to dress me as well." she laughed, 

"Virginia says to impress a client, you simply must impress yourself," Rose said, watching as Eleanor stripped out of her costume, 

"I'm not going to impress him. I'm making a deal." Eleanor shrugged her shoulders, her face fuming red with a blushed tent on her cheeks." But you like him." Bernadette said, standing at the doorway, 

"It's just business, mother," 

"Then why pull out those earrings." her tone dropped, "Why not the ones your father gave you." she sighed, garnet and gold coin pleated earrings in her ear, 

"They're blessed with luck." Eleanor smiled, "Which is what I'm going to need dealing with this man."

"Just remember you're The Pearl for a reason." her mother sighed. The Pearl was only a name of a club to Eleanor. It was the facade she'd put on for her mother, to be her angel who'd never tarnish her soul with unfit men like her grandmother. However, meeting Thomas Shelby at the Candella tea room, not too far from her home and his apartment, was Eleanor.

 "Impeccable taste." she thought, looking around the room. It was beautiful, just like she remembered when her father first took her. " Ms. Williams, may we?" the host said, feeling her up for weapons, "I suppose so since you've already started." she rolled her eyes, 

"She's with me." his voice made the hairs on her neck stand up. And the breath in her body leave, 

"Of course, sorry, Mr. Shelby," 

"You just love watching me sweat, huh." Eleanor began to grit her teeth, "I don't trust easily, sweetheart." he looked at her, noticing her earrings. They looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place them. "Neither do I." she shrugged, ushering her to her table. He helped her remove her fur coat, pulling out her chair, 

"Lady's first."

"What are you getting at," she asked, removing her gloves, 

"Just wanted to talk business over tea and cherry flan, perhaps even a few slices of a lemon pound cake."

 He mentioned hearing the sweet sounds of snickering, "Does Thomas Shelby have a sweet tooth?" Eleanor gasped, "There's something sweet about you I should've known." she teased as Tommy smiled a bit, "How does green tea sound?" Tommy asked as Eleanor laughed, "It sounds good, but have you ever had Orange Pekoe Black Tea?" she suggested, "No, I haven't."

"It's to die for. It can be a bit bitter, though."  Tommy watched her movements, never missing a detail. Her legs were crossed, and she'd been leaning forward toward him. Eleanor had been open and honest thus far, but he'd still test her waters, "I'll take your word for it." 

"So tell me, Tommy, do you take all your business partners to dinner?" folding her hands, laying her head on top of them,

 "Just the ones I can trust," 

"Well, let's cut to the chase then. Solomons wanted 100% of the company." she looked at Tommy, whose nose crinkled just at the talk of that deal, 

"Yet you both settled on 30%," she stated as Tommy nodded, getting lost in her eyes. The way the dim lighting managed made them sparkle. The gold flecks in her coffee-colored irises were illuminating. And for once, there was a calm quiet to his storm.

"Is that Correct, Tommy?" she asked, noticing the slight smile on his face, "Thomas..." her hand brushing against his. The tone of her voice was stern but soft and sweet. It was starting to become a voice he'd want to hear often. "Eh, yes, that's correct."

"Well, on behalf of the Black Pearl Oyster Company, I'd like to grant you 25% ownership, plus you will receive half of what the house makes on your Gin. As I stated, perhaps you won't push me up against a wall this time." she laughed, "I believe you did the pushin, sweetheart. But I think you liked it." he winked, "I don't know what you mean, Mr. Shelby." her face was a dark red tint that he luckily couldn't see. Shifting her head to the side, so she wouldn't stare into his eyes, she noticed something strange from the kitchen. Tommy followed her line of view, 

"You stay here..."

"I can handle myself." taking out a gun from her fur coat running into the kitchen. They saw no one else. But the one waiter with his pistol. Locked and ready to go, 

"You go right..." Eleanor said, 

"You don't get to tell me what to do." Tommy chirped back, 

"So you go left, distract him, and I'll fucking shoot."

"I don't think I will-"

  BANG! 

BANG!

        BANG!

Both Tommy and Eleanor hid behind the oven, the two shooting back. From the looks of it, he had to be one of Sabini's men taking their revenge on Tommy, and Eleanor was in the crosshairs for working with him. "Where the fuck are they..." she mumbled, talking about Rose and Jessy. Peering from behind the oven was Tommy taking a few shots at the man, a bullet lodged in his shoulder. Eleanor heard fired shots from the dining room, a smile on her brown features, 

"Can I have at him?" Eleanor asked as he offered her hand, helping her, "He's all yours, Ellie." 

Eleanor's short frame loomed over the bleeding as he begged and pleaded, 

"Who sent you."

"Puttana Romana Francese nera!"

"I think you're mistaking me for my grandmother," she shot him in the other shoulder, "Now, who fucking sent you." Tommy could see the very fire that he had in him in her eyes. There he could see her weakness clear as day, 

"Changretta ucciderà la tua fottuta famiglia."

"What's he saying."

" di' a Changretta che stiamo venendo per lui e per chiunque altro venga!" she  shouted shooting him in the kneecap 

"Complete utter poppycock." walking out the kitchen door,

 "Aye, Tommy, these ladies yours?"

"They're mine, Eleanor Williams, and you are."

"Johnny Dogs, lovely earrings. My mother 'ad a similar pair." he complimented as Eleanor smiled. It was nice to hear an Irish accent that wasn't her mother nagging her, "Anythin I can do ya fer. Mister Shelby, Ms. Williams."'

"I could go for a nice Irish Whiskey about now?"

"So could I." 

"So Virginia, my sister, who was 16, thought it would be hilarious to blow up a police wagon." Eleanor laughed as soft music played, "Of course, she's the privileged one out of us four," Tommy looked at Eleanor as he was dressed a bit more relaxed. The two had been talking and dancing for what seemed like hours in his London Flat, "Reminds me of the shit my brothers and I used to get into," he smirked, "Missed those days sometimes," pouring them both another glass of whiskey, 

" Tell me about it. The purest joy I had as a child was when we barely could afford scraps on the table," she sighed,

 "No one begging you for money or food cause you barely could afford anything," 

 "No one fucking botherin ya with their troubles." Tommy added, "You know. I thought you were always rich." he laughed, "Daughter to a woman from money who ran off with a man in Vaudeville. Her father was not happy. We had to wait for him to die to fully get his riches." she sighed, 

"You'd think having money makes your life easy... being on top, but when you've got this colour on you, it still isn't enough, no matter how innocent you try to appear to be, like a perfect pearl it'll never be-" 

Tommy placed his thumb on her cheek, circling her soft skin. Usually, this was the whiskey talking. But when she was looking at him as they do in  the films, he couldn't help but want to learn the taste of her lips or the curves of her body, "You're more than enough." 

He kissed her, a bit hungry and possessive at first, getting past the waxy taste of lipstick and the taste of honey cakes, smoke, and whiskey. "Tommy," her clouded eyes looking through her eyelids, 

"I'm sorry if I-"

"Kiss me again like you love me," she said. Pushing her up against the wall, Eleanor pulled him against her. She wanted everything he could give.

 She wished to carry everything he couldn't. Taking her hair out of its bun, he tugged on her long locks kissing the exposed skin on her neck, "What are you doing." she giggled, "Warming you up, sweetheart." he laughed, "Perhaps we could get warmed up in the bed."

 Raindrops fell amongst the window as Tommy and Eleanor laid there listening to the beating of it. Eleanor was wearing Tommy's shirt as Tommy laid there in nothing but his pants, 

"They say rain symbolizes unhappiness," Tommy said, watching the beads of water fall, his hands above his head, "That's odd. My mother always said it was a symbol of cleansing away sadness." Eleanor responded against him, "And what do you think it means." he turned to face her, the light of his eyes reflecting into hers. Eleanor began to scoot closer as he began to hum,

"Rain means many things, rebirth, melancholy, rain is the first kiss of first love. Perhaps even a lost love, it's magic and wisdom, freedom, sometimes redemption." she then stopped talking, "Sorry I was rambling," Tommy pulled her closer to him, 

"That's where you mess up."

"Mess up where?"

"Apolgizin, never fuckin say sorry." he began to hum some more, "I'm a  white pearl, after all, Innocent and simple" she traced out his tattoo, 

"I'd say you're a black pearl, fascinating and powerful." Tommy smiled, drifting off to sleep as Eleanor soon followed.

1924 Small Heath

"Something came in the post for ya, Tom," Julian said, running into the dining room of their childhood home, "Is it from her," Tommy asked, "The woman from New York, yeah," Julian responded, watching as Claudette looked at Finn, Claudette and Finn were sixteen years old now, and unlike Finn, Claudette was starting to feel alienated from her own family, they started keeping things from her, becoming too busy to talk to her, or when they did they'd only, talk about how she should be shadowing Eleanor or helping Virginia with the brothel, or Andre and numbers, she'd even started working the bar,

 But nothing was closer than her bond with The Peaky Blinders, "Oh, Lorcan says he'll be late, by the way. He went to go steal a horse." Claudette smiled, 

"Who's he stealin it from?" Finn asked

"My brother Andre." she laughed, "He's shit at picking horses, unlike me," she mumbled, "Oh, and Mr. Shelby," Tommy turned around to look at the short-haired pain in his ass call his name, 

"What is it now, Claudette."

"Eleanor has news for you."

"How soon can it wait."

"You should call her and see." stealing a glance at Finn, then back at Tommy, "And another thin." chewing on a toothpick,

 "What's that."

"When are you going to make me a Peaky?"

"Fucking never, kid." Arthur said, taking the letter out of Tommy's hand

[theluminoussunflower]

you can't go back, and you can't stand still, so you may as well go forth

tw: just another reminder that there is a lot of talk of suicide, so if that's not something you're comfortable with, please don't read

once lacey spilled, it was basically expected that richie would spill as well

and he does

though they tell the real version of events

how mr dalton told them what the dead poets society was, how mr anderson gave amelia the book, and how they chose to go to the cave, and only stayed when they found out that was the meeting spot for their dads

and they sign a sworn statement agreeing to that

absolutely none of that surprises cameron in the slightest, so that's the version of events he is going with

... sort of

see, there isn't anything wrong with telling kids about a club you were in, and there's nothing wrong with giving your kid a book

so, cameron asks mr meeks, "how much did stephanie talk about the dead poets society?"

"well, only when i spoke about it with her," mr meeks admits, "but when she talked about it, she did nothing but defend it, she would have killed for it!"

and cameron knows it's wrong and bad to do this, but if he wants to please the meeks', he might have to embellish the truth a little bit

but mr evan overstreet is having not of that

"stephanie was not obsessed with the dead poets society!" he tells mr cameron, borderline furious at the mere idea of the picture they were trying to paint of his friend

"evan, i understand that you're upset—"

"yeah, hardly, you're formulating a lie to get mr dalton fired, that's what they did to mr keating"

"trust me, evan," knox says, standing off by the wall, arms crossed, "you don't know anything about that"

evan sits back in his chair, at a loss, backed into a corner, "i don't know what kind of narrative you're trying to write, but it's..."

usually, he'd make some kind of joke

filled with deep plot holes and horrible grammar

but he can't joke

"... horse shit"

cameron sits in the chair next to evan, "we're just trying to hold someone accountable, shouldn't someone pay for what's happened to your friend?"

"we're already paying for it," evan says

"well, i have to do something," cameron says, "because if i don't, things will go back to the way they were, and this could happen again, and we don't want that, do we?"

evan shakes his head

"so, i'll ask again, did mr dalton's encouragement make stephanie obsessed with the dead poets society?"

evan swallows hard, and looks into his lap, "if any of us were obsessed with the dead poets society, it was amelia"

"amelia anderson?"

evan nods

cameron stares at evan, intently, "i'm gonna ask you something, and i need you to be honest with me, and one hundred percent sure of your answer... do you think amelia would hurt herself?"

blinking, evan says, "it's not out of the realm of possibility... she's very comfortable with talking about death"

"is that so? did she talk about death with stephanie?"

"i mean, they were roommates, i'm guessing they did... it was mostly about amelia's mom, but... it was really brazen, and i don't think she realized it"

interesting... developments

so, evan signs

cameron talks... well "talks" with pittsie

pittsie has basically gone mute, not speaking to anyone, not even his parents

he just nods or shakes his head or shrugs

what could he possibly say?

he signs it, not because he wants to, but because he doesn't have the energy to argue with mr cameron, and he just wants to go back to sleep

and then, the showdown of the decade

cameron vs amelia

since todd (aka mr anderson) is the subject of some of these discussions, he isn't allowed to be in the room

and with elizabeth dead and whit not legally her parent, that means talking to cameron alone

is that legal? i don't know, i'm not gonna look it up, you're not gonna look it up, so who gives a fuck?

"your friends have given me quite the story," cameron tells her

"i'm sure they have," amelia mumbles

cameron slides a piece of paper across his desk and to amelia, "i want you to look over this statement, and tell me if everything on here is true, and if it is, sign it"

amelia glances over the statement

"1.) that mr dalton encouraged the children...

2.) that mr anderson furthered this by supplying...

3.) that these meetings took place off-campus in clandestine meetings...

4.) that this so-called "dead poets" society emphasized the importance of death, making..."

"this is bullshit," amelia mumbles, tossing it back to mr cameron, "and you know it"

"need i tell you what happens if you don't sign this document?" cameron asks

"i know, i know, you expel me, big fuckin' deal, mr cameron, i'm not signing a sworn statement with lies"

"are there parts you would like to amend?"

"stephanie wasn't obsessed with the group, she was an abused child who thought she had no other way of escaping her life than by killing herself, you should add that she was terrified of her dad, couldn't confide in her mother, and found solace in the friends around here, but that wouldn't fit the narrative where you don't take any responsibility for your student committing suicide in your school

"so, you know maybe that's why you finked on mr keating the way you did, because you were so sure that you were doing the right thing... or maybe because you were a frightened child, and some adults took advantage of that"

cameron stares at her, swallowing hard

"did you ever think that? you talk about this honor code, that students tell teachers the truth, but respect goes both ways, i will never respect you, 'cause you're a coward, and if you took even a second to reflect, you would know whose fault it is that stephanie's gone, and i hope that answer makes you lie awake at night

"so no, i do not agree to this, and if that means my expulsion, then it does"

cameron does not expel her, not right away

he wants to speak to todd first, maybe he can straighten this out

on her way down the hall from mr cameron's office, amelia passes richie

when she sees him, an inexplicable fury rose through her

the rage of knowing that richie and lacey, and now evan and pittsie, ruined the sacred society that they held

the secrets, the stories, the time they spent together

but amelia doesn't want to punch richie or anything like that

she just wants to demean him, to push him down further

she wants to be his absolute worst nightmare

so, she spits at his feet

just

spits on the ground he walks on

"amelia, be mature," richie begs

amelia whips around, "eat sand, richard"

richie sighs, "look i know this sucks, okay all of this fucking sucks! but maybe the society isn't meant to be, maybe seizing the day, doing more being more, maybe that's impossible"

"bullshit, nothing's impossible," amelia says low, "jesus, this isn't about carpe diem, this is about what we shared together, our friendship was based on being vulnerable, and romantic, and you all... threw it away, when i needed that most, you tossed it out like trash"

"we can still be vulnerable!" richie laughs, "we can still like poetry and be romantics, we can still be friends, we just... it can't be at the cost of our careers or our futures"

amelia swallows hard and shakes her head, "i would have defended you... if your dad was at risk of being fired, i would have defended him, because i know you love him, and you're my friend and i would have done anything for you, stephanie would have done anything for you... you're holding the wrong people accountable, and that's the worst part"

and she walks away

across town, nearing midnight, at the pitts residence

pitts sr can't sleep, so he finds refuge on the couch

the silence is somewhat comforting, he can think better that way

pitts jr also can't sleep, so he wanders downstairs, hoping the guest bedroom walls won't stare at him the way his room does

he spots his dad in the living room, and asks, "do you need help getting to bed?"

"no, i needed some time out here," pitts responds

"oh" and it's quiet again

"can i tell you something?" pitts asks, patting the cushion to his right for his son to sit, "about neil?"

gerry takes a moment, but sits down, snuggled up next to his dad

since stephanie died, they had hugged a lot more

every time they saw each other, in fact

putting his arm around gerry, pitts says, "the worst thing about death is that it makes you think too much, it makes you think what you could have done differently, say a lifelong smoker with lung cancer wishes they just cut back a few packs a week

"and i think about that with neil, that maybe if i saw the warning signs, i could have talked to him beforehand"

gerry's bottom lip starts to waver

"and i think about it with meeks, my meeks, how i could have been more strategic, and maybe he'd still be here, and i would be happy" pitts sighs, "but he's not here, and i can't change that, things happen that are out of our hands, and unfortunately, we just live with it"

"you never told me what happened," gerry says, looking at his dad, "with you and stephen, the day he died"

pitts says, "there's not much to say, our area got attacked, he was fast, i wasn't, i got caught under some rubble, and he came back for me... because your mom was pregnant with you"

pitts rubs his son's head, gently

"in every good possible way, i think of stephen when i look at you, because of him, i get to know you"

"would you..." gerry says, "if you could, would you choose to have meeks back if it meant not knowing me?"

pitts narrows his eyes, "absolutely not, don't ever think i would," he runs his hand through his son's hair, "you're my baby boy, i wouldn't trade you for anything"

gerry always assumed that was true because he would feel that way for his child

but hearing it

it's hearing it that sends him over the edge

"i love you, dad," he says

"i love you so much, gerry," pitts pulls his son into a tight hug, kissing the top of his head, "and i know right now you'd give anything to get stephie back, and maybe that feeling won't go away, but i hope you get out of this the way i did"

"does it stop hurting?" gerry asks

pitts shakes his head, "i don't think so, but we start to manage it"

they sit like that for a while, the longest pitts sr held his son since infancy

across town, at welton academy, todd returns to his apartment

whit, now staying with todd overnight, wakes up

"todd... is amelia okay?" he asks

"yeah, i mean, she's safe, i just left her dorm"

whit slowly sits up "is she sleeping in there by herself?"

todd gets back in bed, putting his arm around whit and pulling him to his shoulder "her door has to stay wide open, i'm checking on her myself every few hours because i don't trust cameron to do it"

"are you okay?"

"i'm fine, as well as i can be..."

"todd?" something's off... he's thinking

"i've been thinking about... the next steps in my life and in amelia's life, and what's gonna be the best course for us, you know?"

"of course..." whit blinks

todd looks down at whit "and i've been thinking about you, because you are an extension of me, and on one hand, i don't want you to have to be here while we go through this, but on the other hand, i don't think amelia wants to lose anyone else, and i don't want to let you go"

"todd, why are you saying this?"

todd swallows hard, "you've asked before what i was like after bethie died... and i think this is the closest you're ever going to get to it"

"is there anything i can do? todd, i'll do anything... i mean, you've just said it, you're my family, and amelia is my family, i can't in good conscience just step back, that's not what families do"

"i know, i know... that's why i think we should be together"

whit lets out a sigh

"under the same roof... all three of us... i think we should live together"

"w-... what about welton?"

todd lets a silence stew, "what about it?"

~

oh boy, the end is in sight

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