#joe solomon regrets so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC is Half-Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Part 2!

Part 1 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

Okay, They’re Your Cousins but You’re Not Sure How They’re Related to You...

(Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, and Luke)

(It’s mostly Luke)

Barbs likes smol Lucifer. Smol Lucifer likes Barbs. They bake together with Luke. MC nearly set the kitchen on fire. MC needed to learn to cook.

MC is forever delegated to mixing duty because they refuse to admit that they don’t know how to work the oven.

Simeon is the one telling MC embarrassing stories about Lucifer and the rest of the Student Council from when they were all angels. Lucifer never hated Simeon more than when he found out that Simeon told MC about how hard Lucifer cried when he got to hold baby Mammon for the first time. MC was sworn to secrecy.

Well... sworn to secrecy, but if Uncle Mammon just happened to find out through a series of coincidences it wouldn’t be MC’s fault, right?

Simeon also tried to help teach MC to fly... but he kept distracting them with stories about Lucifer and Michael learning to fly.

“So my father was even WORSE than he told me he was?!”

“Yes, he actually challenged Michael and Raphael to a race at one point. Lucifer ended up slamming directly into a wall because he didn’t know how to stop.”

“SIMEON!”

Solomon was absolutely fascinated with MC. How did their half demon half human nature affect their reaction to certain spells and potions? Do half demons have more or less magical strength than normal demons? Can half demons make pacts with humans? Wait- Lucifer why are you taking MC away they were talking- Lucifer!

Immortal troll needs to troll. MC is the unwitting victim of many of Solomon’s shenanigans.

“Why must I speak in rhymes?! This is the end of times!”

“MC, just stop talking.”

“Father, I don’t mean to be a bother but-”

“So the rhyming spell works the same on half demons... interesting...”

“Solomon...”

“I’m leaving, Lucifer. I’m leaving!”

Aw! Two kids in the Devildom! They were fast friends. Sure, Luke was a little annoying and MC was a bit of a dick, but their mutual smallness and desire to impress their parental figures brought them together.

“Michael’s just so cool and amazing! The way he flies, the way he commands everyone... I want to be just like him someday!”

“Is that why you’re making a cake?”

“Michael has a sweet tooth, and I want to impress him.”

“I wonder if Lucifer likes sweets...”

“Why would you want to give HIM sweets?”

MC just gave Luke a toothy grin and started making the dough for the cake.

Remember back in Lucifer’s section where I said MC would keep their lineage a secret to freak people out? Yeah... they kept it from Luke. At first it was a joke! They were going to tell him! They just uh... it got really awkward. They planned on revealing it to Luke right after they learned how to properly fly so they could swoop in, pick their angel buddy up and zip the two of them to school. It’d freak Luke out at first, but it was meant to be funny! MC would have even sung the song from Aladdin! It um... didn’t turn out that way.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” MC growled at the lesser demons that were crowding Luke.

“O-oh... uh... nuh-nothing...” a few of the demons backed off, mumbling a few harried apologies to MC as they scurried away. The remaining demons seemed a tad more... hmm... they say there’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity.

“M-MC! You can’t fight demons! I’m an angel I-I c-can...” Luke sniffled, but tried his best to step in front of MC.

“Oh please, the little half-breed and the lowest ranked angel are going to put up a fight?” One of the demons jeered, a few of the remaining demons joined in.

MC’s eyes narrowed, their glare as cold as the worst winter storm. “I’m going to tell you once, and once only,”

Their wings sprouted from their back, horns now fully grown and on display, teeth sharper and glistening in the light. Hm, it seemed half demons could make their eyes glow too, how delightful.

MC gave the other demons a sweet smile, it would have been comforting if it weren’t for the amount of teeth they were showing off. They lazily placed their hand on Luke’s head and lightly moved him out of the way.

“Leave, or I will make you regret ever crossing us exchange students.” MC’s carefree smile couldn’t mask the malice that coated every single word that left their lips. “Run along now, you’re not needed here.”

The demon that had started the taunts stiffened, he looked from MC, to Luke, to the other demons, before scoffing and shaking his head. “Whatever, the two of them aren’t worth it anyway...”

When the offending demons weren’t leaving fast enough for MC’s liking, they snapped their fingers and shot a fireball right behind the fleeing demons’ feet. They cleared out pretty quickly after that.

“Luke?” MC turned to look at their friend. “Are you...”

Luke was backing away. That look in his eyes, he was... scared. Scared of MC...

“Y-you’re a d-demon?” He whimpered, taking another step back.

“Half demon, actually.” MC let their demonic elements disappear. “I meant to tell you, I really did! It just was never the right time-”

“You lied to me! You said you were human! But you’re a demon like the rest of them!” Luke shouted, he wiped at his eye with his sleeve and sniffled. “I tried to help you, but you just..! I thought you were my friend!”

“Luke- hang on!” MC took a few steps forward, but Luke was already running away. MC felt something twist in their gut, something awful. That ball of innate pride twisted and practically screamed, filling MC’s head.

“He’s not worth it!”

“You’re above him anyway...”

“If he can’t understand how perfect you are, he doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

“Don’t grovel for his forgiveness. He’s beneath you.”

“Your help was rejected. Let him hate you. You’re the child of one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, who is he to make you upset?”

The thoughts filled MC’s head as they desperately tried to shut them up. They were their father’s child, their pride wouldn’t be easily combated.

“Just be quiet!” MC clawed at their head.

“You’re better than this. You’re better than this. You’re better than this-”

“Luke!” MC called out again. “I’m sorry!”

It truly was a shame that their friend didn’t understand how much an apology from MC really meant.

They guessed Luke was right, wasn’t he? Demons were nasty awful liars. MC was no different...

That hurt.

Lucifer noticed his kid was moping around, not even Detective Toe Beans could cheer them up. Mammon even came home covered in mud from a failed money-making scheme and it didn’t even make MC crack a smile! He needed to get to the bottom of this.

Upon hearing the reason for his child’s woes, he was fully ready to break down the door of Purgatory Hall and throttle the little chihuahua, but Lucifer came to his senses and realized that MC probably didn’t want that.

He teamed up with Simeon and Solomon the things he did for MC... And managed to get both Luke and MC to the Demon Lord’s Castle to hang out with Barbatos.

It didn’t take a genius to realize that Luke missed his friend too. Sure they called him a chihuahua sometimes, but they were still the bestest friend he had made during his time in the exchange program... maybe ever...

Maybe... just maybe... he overreacted. MC did protect him after all, and they never tried to hurt him...

Barbatos was fully ready to fulfill his role as Luke’s second dad and help his angel-son make up with his friend.

It may have been awkward at first, but the two had to join forces to stop Solomon from getting within a hundred metres of the kitchen. Nothing brings two people back together more than fear for your tastebuds.

Mission success. Lucifer could relax knowing that his kid and the chihuahua were back to being friends. Maybe MC could convince Luke to quiet his infernal yapping... Lucifer was trying to work here!

For some extra fluff, after many days of asking and asking, Lucifer and Simeon agree to take Luke and MC up to the human world for Halloween. They got to go trick or treating, and everyone complimented MC and Luke on their ‘costumes’.

*insert sitcom laugh track here*

Sure, it may have been a little immoral for MC to use their powers to manipulate the humans into giving Luke and MC more candy but... candy...

Oh shit would you look at the time- they had to get back to the Devildom for Diavolo’s birthday party- MC STOP WITH THE CHOCOLATE! THE SIGN SAYS TAKE ONE! DON’T BE LIKE MAMMON.

The exchange year had been a success. Well... sort of. MC wasn’t exactly the average Joe human the Student Council expected, which is why after a lengthy break where MC went back to the human world to visit their other parent and human friends, the seven rulers of Hell (+MC) were sitting and waiting for the new exchange students to arrive.

Unlike the previous year, the entire student council was present. That included Levi who they had to physically drag there, Belphie who was carried there and had to be placed in his seat because he was completely passed out, and finally Mammon, he just had to be threatened.

“Father,” MC pouted from their seat next to Lucifer. “Why isn’t my chair as big as yours?”

Lucifer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Because you’re much shorter than me. You can have a bigger chair when you grow a few more inches.”

“Mmm...” MC murmured, crossing their arms. “Are the students going to get here, or what?”

“Can you be patient?” Lucifer asked. “They’ll be here any moment now. I can trust that you’ll behave, right?”

MC looked scandalized, placing a hand over their heart and gasping. “Father! Of course! I’ll be the most polite person these humans have ever met!”

Not so deep down, Lucifer severely doubted that.

“Come now, Lucifer and MC!” Diavolo said from his elevated seat. “It’s almost eight am!”

Right on schedule the portal opened, two sets of screams followed.

“The next big priority should be making the trip more comfortable.” MC huffed. “It’s demeaning getting dropped straight down like that and just slamming into the floor.”

“Hm.” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Perhaps instead we can just teleport them up to the Celestial Realm, start a war, and have them crash through not one, not two, but all three barriers between the realms with no portal.”

“Father...” MC matched Lucifer’s eye roll. “That has the same energy as ‘when I was your age I walked to school 100 miles through a blizzard!’ The polite thing to do for the exchange students is to not let them hit the floor at 100 mph and possibly give them a concussion.”

And slam straight onto the floor the two other exchange students did. Well, one of them slammed right into the marble, the other had tried in vain to use their wings to slow their decent or fly back up.

Wait...

WINGS?!

WAIT THE OTHER HAD HORNS?!

THEY BOTH HAD-

Oh and would you look at that... one looked like... and the other looked like-

Shitballs.

Lucifer had to keep himself from actually shouting in frustration. One normal day... one day of no exchange student issues was all he asked for...

“Out of over ten million candidates out of over eight billion humans...” Lucifer grumbled. “How in my father’s name did this happen again?”

(OOOOOOOOOO SEQUEL BAIT!)

#Obey me #I’m not good at writing angst... I’m so sorry #Obey me!#obey me shall we date #I’m a crack and fluff writer...#obey me! shall we date?#Obey me Headcanons #Obey me! Headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me MC #Obey me Luke #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Solomon #obey me barbatos #Lucifer’s Kid

532 notes · View notes

justatidalwaveoffeelings · 3 years

Text

Ok, so I don't write. I have never written a fanfic. This doesn't have a name and it's probably poorly written. It's Rachel's point of view around the time of Cammie's second kidnapping attempt. I was bored and I had this idea stuck in my head so here it is. I debate not even posting it but what the hey🤷🏼‍♀️

@averagejoesolomon you totally got me hooked on the Rachel only calls Matt, Matthew. So all the credit to you on that one!

This whole thing is basically read at your own risk. Haha

Just like that, what she had left of her world was crumbling. It happened so quickly. Rachel hadn't seen what had happened. She just knew that one moment she had been talking to Cynthia McHenry and the next she felt her instincts as an operative hit her like a swift punch to the gut.

Something was wrong. She looked around the ballroom looking for Cammie but she didn't see her. She didn't see any of her freinds or even that Goode boy. Never one to be dissuaded from her mission, she decided to look for Abby. She at least she might know where her neice was.

As much as her sister annoyed her, she was happy to have her back in her life. However temporary it might be. She was aware how an operative's life gets crazy. She knew her sister was dedicated but she didn't know how far they would be pulled apart when she stepped out of the field after Matthew's passing. They had just recently talked about why there hadn't been much contact between the two of them in recent years. Why Abby had walked farther away from Rachel and Cammie and deeper into her various covers. Rachel knew the guilt the came with losing Matthew. The countless nights that kept her up thinking about what might have happened if she told if him to stay home. If she had pulled the "wife card" and asked him not to keep secrets. She knew that Abby had been hurt. Rachel had never lived through anything harder. It didn't surprise her that everyone else who also loved him felt the same. When he died there was a very real whole in each of their hearts. She had suspected Abby just didn't know how to miss Matthew with her. After all, her sister had never been one to grieve in front of others. Rachel hadn't know just how deep routed her sister's guilt and regret had dragged her. Rachel regretted not going to get her baby sister back sooner after Matthew's passing but she hadn't wanted to press Abby too hard in a time of grief for both of them.

Now, if only she could FIND HER. Her sister always had a knack for being where she wasn't supposed be. So, if Rachel could think if the most inconvenient spot for someone to be she might find her.

When she had finished looking around the ballroom the hair on the back of her neck started to stand on end. She felt a cold sweat start. Her blouse was too tight. She pulled at her collar and silently chastised herself being so obviously uncomfortable. Rachel wanted to tell her instincts to shut up, that nothing was wrong. She knew better though, something was off.

She felt eyes. She pretended to check her make-up in a small compact while checking behind her. She locked on a familiar pair of green eyes staring back at her. Of course he was there. She had just checked the whole room and hadn't spotted him once. If Joe was about to poke fun about her being off now was not the time. When she turned to face him she realized that he wore an expression just as grim as her own.

"You got the same sick feeling in your gut?"

Before she could respond something seemed to dawn on Joe.

"Where's Cammie, Rachel?"

"I don't know. I've been looking for her, or her roommates. Even Abby."

"Zach". Joe mumbled the boy's name. "He's probably with her, right? Did you see them slip out?"

"No, well maybe, but if I knew that I wouldn't be so gosh darn worried now would I, Joseph?!" She hadn't meant to snap but she was feeling worse by the second. Now her instincts seemed to be at work on her stomach.

When the shot went off they didn't question where it had come from. They didn't need to wait for some sort of command. Old habits did truly die hard. They were across the ballroom in seconds. Not drawing the attention of a single onlooker. They slipped out the back door into a dark ally. The Circle. They were there. Beside her Joe started to speak into thier comms unit. There was a big problem. Rachel looked for Cammie. She was being snagged back down the ally, toward the safety of the door by Zach. Neirher of them was bleeding. She was able to breath agian. The bullet could have been a warning shot. It didn't feel that way though. Where did it land?

She brought herself back to the scene. They were after her daughter and she had to protect her daughter. The kids were fighting like operatives. That was something the headmistress in her couldn't have missed and was quietly proud of. Now only if they could all get out of it. Other gallagher girls rushed out beside her, ready for the fight, ready to protect Cammie.

The second that Rachel could she ran at Cam. Yelling Cammie's name she threw herself against her daughter, deeper into the shadows of other gallagher girls. Farther into safety. Only after the immediate securing of Cammie did Rachel realize that people were still screaming. It was Macey standing over.....

Abby. Abby. Abigail. She knew Cammie was secured. Joe would help make sure of it. She needed to get to her sister. She needed to help her sister. She was bleeding from the shoulder, there was so much blood pooling beneath her. Rachel couldn't breathe. She couldn't catch her breathe. Rachel had always been cool under fire; a natural operative. This felt so different. The operative in her was mad for missing the fight. For not getting there in time. The mother in her was scared and hurting for her daughter. The sister in her felt cheated and so very crushed. She couldn't lose Abby on top of everything else. Her heart beat to one terrible pulse- She was not ready to lose anymore family. She dropped to her knees beside her sister. She didn't know if she had told Macey to go back to her roommates but she got up and walked away. Rachel pressed some leather jacket into her sister's wound. She didn't realize that she was crying until she saw her own tears falling on Abby's face. Rachel was screaming. She really. couldn't. breath. She heard screaming and crying in the background. Cammie. She couldn't take this or rather she didn't want to. Her sister way dying in front of her and her daughter was being emotionally tormented. She debating getting up, but she couldn't stop crying. She didn't want Cammie to see her so emotionally distraught and she couldn't bring herself to her feet. Cammie would have to be strong.

Joe was on the seeminly knew what she was thinking because instead of coming toward Abby he commanded the women around Cammie. Keeping her safe. Cammie's sobbing became softer. Rachel's didn't.

She didn't get up when the paramedic team arrived. She wasn't going to leave Abby. She couldn't lose her. She didn't feel like a good operative in control. She felt like a big sister, weak from all that crying. She felt Joe behind her. Pulling her up from her knees. Trying to tell her to let go of Abby's hand. She forced Joe to let go of her arms. Desperate to be the one who fixed it. To do something, anything. All she could do was tell the medic what she saw, and tell Abby that she was going to be ok.

When she turned back around he was there. Teary but not crying yet.

"She's strong. She'll pull through". He tried to reassure her but his voice shook. His hand on her arm felt unsteady. Joe never cried. It was going to be a long night. She had to keep busy. She went to check on her daughter. She couldn't lose any more of her family.

Rachel saw the footage. She knew in that it all happened in a few minutes. It felt like this night would never end. She watched that security footage obsessively outside of her office, sitting on the corridor floor with her head on the wall, right underneath Gilligan's sword. Cavan's sword. Maybe Abby was right. They should have thrown it in the lake. Her daughter was asleep inside her office, away from danger for now. Abby was in surgery. Abby might of died. Abby could still die. Every time she let herself linger on that fact she felt like crying all over again. So, she didn't let herself think of it. She watched the security clip again waiting and watching for a clue. Something. She couldn't truly focus on it though. She was too tired or emotionally distraught. It didn't matter the reason, she knew that a truly great operative had to know when to wave her white flag. In that moment she didn't even feel a little guilty about turning off the video.

Joe stepped out of her office. She did a double take, the last time she had seen him look that way was the night he told her about Matthew. He had been crying. Joe Solomon does not cry. There he was though. He face was streaked eith tears and his shoulders shook slightly. She braced herself for the worse but he just stood there. He looked awful. She moved forward to give him a hug. She couldn't help herself, she started crying again too. Rachel hated to cry in front of anyone but she figured that this secret was safe with him, just like any of the other she had shared with him. She was thankful that she had a freind in him. Thankful that someone else loved Cammie and was willing to fight for her.

After a moment they separated and sat down on the corridor floors.

"I'm so sorry Rachel. I'm so so sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything."

"Joe. After everything that's happened tonight, we are not going over this again.. Its not your fault". Joe started to cry again. Rachel hadn't seen Joe cry so much. She couldn't resist asking him

"What?"

He looked at her pitifully. "You don't know whats my fault, belive me. I.... I think you should think it's my fault."

She wasn't suprised that he was saying these things. She knew of course that he felt guilty. Matt went on the mission he was supposed to. She just wished that he didn't get so hung up on it.

He continued "This never would have happened if Matt were here. He would have taken care of it, you know?"

Of course she didn't know that to be true but she had felt it as well. She didn't want to dwell on what it could have been so she told him that they didn't know that. That he couldn't control who the director sent on that mission. The circle might have come after Cammie even if Matt was alive. Matthew was just a human being, who made mistakes. They didn't know if Matthew being alive would change everything. Joe didnt seem convinced though and Rachel couldn't blame him. It was well worn territory in a familiar conversation. They didnt truly fight, but when it came to blame about Matthews death they didn't exactly see eye to eye. Rachel thought about Matt. It struck her though that as bad as it was at times it could also be worse. Rachel thought about losing Cammie or Abby or even Joe and shuddered. She didn't want to lose anymore family.

She tried to reassure him

"Hey, it will be ok. We will take care of it together ok? We'll all take care of one another. We will do the best we can. Just promise me we will try. Ok?"

Joe had stopped crying but his attention seemed to be drifting.

"I'll try...ok?" It sounded so defeated. Rachel didn't want to press him further. Everyone had already had such a rough night. She let the conversation go until he quipped.

"I feel like I should be telling you these things."

They couldn't help each giving a small laugh

They sat there. They waited for a doctor to come tell them that Abby would make it. They sat and waited for Cammie to wake up. Theorized ways to keep her out of harms way. They talked about surviving. All of them. Together.

Rachel rested in knowing that at least for that day. She wasn't losing any more family.

#gallagher girls #rachel morgan #joe solomon #cammie morgan #zach goode #ally carter #matthew morgan #fanfic

30 notes · View notes

cammie-morgan-goode · 3 years

Note

Wait. A. Darn. Minute. I love the Cross my heart and Hope to Spy and I loved that we got to see Zach and Joe Solomon together! When Zach brought up "making Rachel forget all about Matt"Joe got angry and he told Zach that "even on his worst day he would be lucky to be half the man Matt was." Do you think that hurt Zach? That his mentor though he couldn't be half of that kinda man? Did it hurt Zachs relationship with Cam(he was bad for her)? Do you think Joe regretted saying that? Or took it back?

Hey anon!

This question is in reference to the CMH declassified epilogue! Joe had been at his cabin, when Zach came to find him.

But, to answer your pressing questions!

I believe that Zach got defensive when Joe mentioned having feelings for Cammie. While yes, Zach does indeed have feelings for her, I believe that the fact that Joe saw it, scared Zach. Because if Joe noticed, so did his mother. Right? Because it was obvious? Maybe I’m reading too much into it but, I think that thought was terrifying for him.

But, yes that comment (even though Zach didn’t mean anything truly negative by it) was enough to set Joe Solomon off. Because to Joe, Zach practically insulted Matt. He insulted his memory, the life he lived, and insulted Rachel. Because how can Zach even begin to fathom what their life and relationship had been like? Matt and Joe’s relationship, Rachel and Matt’s relationship, and Rachel and Joe’s relationship. He just didn’t understand. Again, how could he? He never knew Matt.

I personally don’t think that Joe’s comment about being “half the man as Matt”, truly bothered Zach. Because after all, he thinks he can’t live up to anybody. He never had Townsend when he grew up. Joe came in later in his life so he didn’t get that true sense of “fatherhood” until later. He’s a good kid and an even better spy, but he’s just not as good as Joe. And with that said, not as good as Matt either. It’s not a bad thing, just something that Zach knows. While Zach could never begin to understand Matt and Joe’s friendship, he knew it was important. So no, I don’t think it really bothered him because it’s Joe and it’s Matthew Morgan.

I don’t think this interaction hurt Zach’s relationship with Cammie. If anything, I think it might have brought them closer. Perhaps it gave Zach a better understanding of Matt, or gave him the desire to understand Matt more and understand his role as a father, best friend, husband, and spy. I think it gave him the opportunity to eventually respect Matthew based on what Zach learned through time—on his own accord—instead of through what other people told him.

I do think Joe eventually apologized—not for what he said, but for getting upset and lashing out at Zach. Because to Joe, he does actually believe that nobody could ever be Matthew Andrew Morgan. Ever.

32 notes · View notes

heathsbitch · 3 years

Text

Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

xxviii. BROKEN PROMISES

Ivy and Michael were given clear instructions, "Wait in the car, but don't let me get killed." They waited in an empty warehouse, the giant grey walls loomed over the car. Another car approached from the opposite end. Tommo took a deep breath before getting out, leaving Ivy and Michael alone in the backseat. Through the front window, Ivy could see her father and an associate of his climb out of the other car that had entered the building.

Tommy and Alfie's voices were muffled, Ivy couldn't make out what they were saying exactly but she would be able to tell if things got aggressive. "Is Tommy sending you back to Alfie?" Michael questioned as he too looked on at the scene in front of them. "He would've said something if he was. Besides, I work for him, not my father and I'm 18, it's my choice who I live with."

"But he still sent you back last week." Ivy sighed, trying to keep her concentration on her father and Mickey's cousin. "That was for business. He can't send me back permanently." The girl thought about the choice she'd made. She'd have both of them. But she knew things wouldn't be easy. That was obvious by the confrontation in front of her.

Both men had started shouting at each other, and Tommy had pulled a gun. 'Didn't take long.' Ivy thought to herself. Without a second thought, Mickey had lept out of the car, his own gun in his hand. The girl had tried to grab his hand to stop him, they needed to be careful, but it was too late. He'd already got to the group and shot Alfie's associate. "Shit." Ivy breathed out. The realisation sunk in, that was Michael's first kill. And judging by the look on his face it would certainly not be the last. Rage was clear upon his face, droplets of blood scattered across the smooth skin. Tommo's face mirrored his, blood and all.

But Ivy didn't have long to process the scene, Tom had his gun pressed against Alfie's cheek. She followed in Michael's footsteps, rushing out of the car with her gun in her hand. She knew she wouldn't be heard if she shouted, Tom and her father were too loud with their own shouts so she fired her gun in the air. The sound reverberated through the whole building and the men jumped away from each other. The girl ran to her father, pushing him away from the Shelby man. Michael did the same with Tommy, "Tommy, I know this bastard deserves it. I know this bastard deserves it! I fucking know! But if you kill him now, the truce with the London outfits will be blown to fucking pieces, alright?" Mickey shouted at Tom, both men staring daggers into each others eyes.

"Fuck the truce, Tommo!" Ivy spat pulling away from her father but still made sure she was in front of him. "You kill him, you lose me! And you do not want that." It was a bold statement, she just hoped Michael would back her up. Alfie moved passed his daughter, completely dismissing her words and speaking straight to Michael, "Don't worry about that truce, kid, right, cause it fell apart. You got nothing to worry about when it comes to the old scary London boys." The girl's father taunted. She tried to push him back again. "Which fucking side are you on, Alfie?" Michael's shouted, his voice echoing through the whole building. Fear pooled in Ivy's stomach, she didn't know he could shout like that, and she was unsure of whether or not Tommo would actually kill Alfie. Michael was right, in a sense; he did deserve it to some degree but he was still her father. She'd forgiven him for what he'd done, so surely Tom could do the same.

"I do not give a fuck right now, kid, right? I do not want him to spare me because of some fucking peace pact! I want him to acknowledge that his anger is un-fucking-justified! I want him to acknowledge that he who fights by the sword, he fucking dies by it, Tommy. So, what they took your boy, did they, yeah? They got your boy? And what fucking line am I supposed to have crossed? How many fathers, right, how many sons, yeah, have you cut, killed, murdered, fucking butchered, innocent and guilty, to send straight to fucking hell, ain’t ya? Just like me! You fucking stand there, you judging me, stand there and talk to me about crossing some fucking line. If you pull that trigger, right, you pull that trigger for a fucking honourable reason. Like an honourable man, not like some fucking civilian that does not understand the wicked way of our world, mate." Alfie roared at the group, pacing around the building before landing in front of Tom, his face almost pressed against the man's.

"Enough!" Ivy screamed, wanting to put an end to the argument. "Listen, we’ve all done bad things, things we regret, things that will stain our hands forever. But the fact is, they’re in the past. This, this is the present. Dad, he’s lost his kid. Remember how you felt when you lost Joe, remember how you felt when you lost me. You got both of us back. But if we don’t work together, if you don’t work with Tom, then he’ll never get Charlie back. And I can’t let that happen." Her eyes darted between Tom and Alfie, she now stood between them in the hopes they wouldn't try anything with her stood there. She briefly glanced at Michael, hoping he would help her, and he did, "Look, Tommy, she's right and the killing of Alfie Solomons is not going to solve any problems. You need Ivy, you might not want to admit it but we fucking need her."

Silence blanketed the group, the men thought over the words that were said. Alfie grunted and began pacing again. Tommy looked at Ivy before sighing and turning to Michael, his face free of expression. "Michael, go and call Inspector Moss. Tell him it's Palmer," Mickey briefly looked at the girl before he walked away. His eyes burned through the corpse that lay on the floor, an unknown emotion brewing in his head. Ivy's heart pounded in her chest, too many emotions, too many thoughts were pushing through her brain. She wanted to make sure Mickey was alright, she wanted to make sure Tom and Alfie didn't murder each other and ruin the bond they all had in the process.

The Shelby man turned back to the Solomons girl, "Ivy. Choose."

"What?" She breathed out, confused by his words. "Me or Alfie. Choose." Ivy paused and thought over her words, she already knew her decision. "This isn't about me!" She complained, shaking her head slightly to calm herself down. "Tommo, Alfie's my father. But you're my family too. All of the Shelbys are. That’s why I choose both," She spun to face her father, "I promise I’ll come and see you more often, I’ll even bring Joe," A smile twitched upon the man's lips before his angry facade resumed. Ivy looked towards Tom once more, "I’ll work for you still, but if I say no to a job it is non-fucking-negotiable." Her words were firm, Tom had finally got the message.

"Well said, Ivy. Well said. You'll be the death of me someday, you Solomons'," Tommo sighed, taking a pause. His words were soft when he next spoke, "I'll think about what you said. Get in the car and make sure Michael hasn't done something stupid." Ivy breathed out a small laugh then spun to face her father, "Bye." She said meekly before walking back to the car. "I expect to be seeing you soon, muffin." Her father called out to her, "Of course." She replied before getting into the car, leaving Tom and Alfie to talk alone once more, but she still kept a keen eye on the pair.

After a brief stop for Mickey so he could call Moss and a private conversation with him and Tommy, the girl and her boss were carted off to Charlie's yard . Today was the day that Michael would kill Hughes, and Ivy knew there was nothing anybody could do to stop him. The man was silent, his expression barely changed, tears occasionally brewed in his eyes but were quickly dismissed. The girl wanted to talk to him, make sure he was okay, but she didn't know what to say. So she said nothing, in fear that if she said anything, she'd make him worse. She knew all too well how unpredictable Mickey could be.

John, Arthur, and two men Ivy wasn't familiar with all waited in Charlie's yard. Michael was the first to speak, much to Ivy's surprise, "I was, um...This morning I was out on the road with Tommy and Ivy. I killed a man," He confessed to the men. Shock was ridden across Arthur's face, John was filled with partial curiosity. "He needed cover. We were all he had." Arthur stood up and approached the pair, his eyes fixed on Michael. "What did he give you?" Michael reached into the front of his trousers to pull out a revolver. 'That's must be what Tommo and him were talking about earlier.' Ivy said to herself. The man stared at the gun in his hands, tears forming once more. But this time he let them fall. Ivy placed a singular hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly, sometimes actions worked better than words. "He said it's good for close range."

"You're better with my Smith & Wesson." Arthur declared, looking at the gun. Mickey shook his head, taking a brief look at Ivy before speaking, "No, no, this is mine now. Feels part of my hand." Darkness started to spread across the yard, the sun was beginning to set. John approached the trio, "Where'd you hit him?" He questioned Michael. The girl's boss lifted a hand up to brush away the tear that had fallen from his eye before he spoke, "I hit him in the side of the head." Arthur nodded and turned to the girl, "How was he went he went down?" He asked in reference to Mickey. The girl remembered watching the scene play out from her position in Tommo's car, "Didn't even flinch." She spoke. It was definite now that the darkness that once loomed deep within Michael was taking a hold on him, possibly even controlling him. He now had a taste for blood, and he didn't want to stop anytime soon.

The Shelby brothers pondered the girl's words for a moment, exchanging a few glances before John pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Michael, "This is where we think Charles is being held." The men spoke only to Michael, confusion rang through the girl. Tommo said she could help too. "They're not expecting nobody, so you should be alone. There's two good men there," Arthur pointed to the two men Ivy didn't recognise. She took her hand off of Mickey's shoulder. "You do what they say."

"But I fire the bullet, alright?" Anger rose in Michael once more. "Yes, you can be there. But it's better if they do it. See, these are experienced men, Michael." Ivy decided now was her time to speak up, "Tommo said I can go too," Another look was passed between Arthur and John, they knew she'd grown more sensitive to these types of jobs in recent times. They didn't want to see her get hurt. But Ivy wanted to make sure that didn't happen to Mickey either. "I'm experienced too. You know you can trust me." John shook his head slightly and Arthur sighed but eventually said, "Alright, but you stay together. When you're sure the kid's safe, you call Finn." Michael and Ivy nodded, accepting their instructions, "Alright, come on." Michael called to the men, eventually leaving the yard. John, Arthur, and Ivy exchanged another round of looks before the girl followed in Mickey's footsteps.

"I don't want you getting hurt." Michael said in a hushed voice to Ivy. They were in the back of a car, waiting for the right moment to burst into the building that John had told them about to save Charles. "You're more likely to get hurt than I am. You know I can handle myself." Ivy quipped, her hand resting on his thigh. He sighed and closed his eyes, he drew his gun. His blue eyes opened once more, taking a glance at Ivy and nodding at her. The time was now. He turned to the men in the front seat, his voice firm and dominating, "You two wait here. I'll do the killing. That's a fucking order." He hissed. The men put up no debate, allowing the Solomons girl and her boss to climb out of the car and enter the building. They rounded a few corners before stopping at the threshold to the main room. This was where Charlie was being held. Every other moment, his cries could be heard, along with the voice of the priest.

"Wait here. Cover me." Michael whispered before entering the room with his gun raised. She followed orders, not wanting to disobey him. Ivy watched from the shadows, her own gun in hand, her knives in her boots just in case she needed more firepower. "What do you think you're doing, boy?" She heard Hughes, the dirty fucking priest, say. Ivy peaked around the corner to be met with the sight of Michael pushing the gun into Hughes' eye, "Don't shoot. Please don't shoot." He begged. But Ivy didn't buy his act, something wasn't right. But Michael hesitated, allowing Hughes to get the better of him and smack the gun from Mickey's hand.

Ivy's inhibitions flew out of the window as she rushed over to Michael, kicking Hughes in the stomach. He lurched over and stumbled a few times, his breathing ragged. Mickey regained control as he approached the man, his fist coming to meet the priest's chin multiple times. But his actions were predictable and Hughes caught his fist, twisting it and pushing him away. Ivy pulled a knife from her boot and started to slash at Hughes. He dodged her first few attempts but as he reached for her throat, she nicked his thigh. He cried out in pain but still managed to grip onto the girl's throat, choking her, rendering her almost useless.

The men from the car burst through the doors of the building, guns pointed at Hughes, "I'll take him!" One of them shouted. "No," Michael whimpered from the floor, trying to push himself from it, "The bastard's mine, go call Finn." They rushed out of the room without another word.

Michael approached from behind, kicking the man, causing him to let go of the girl. Grunts echoed across the room, deep heaves came from Ivy as she tried to regain her breath. She watched as the priest pushed Michael to the floor and started choking him.

"No." She cried out. Ivy tried to move as fast as she could. Her legs were shaking underneath her but she tackled the priest. They tumbled with each other, but Hughes landed on top, his target becoming Ivy again. "Filthy slut." He hissed as his fist came down against her face, her bottom lip splitting from the impact. His hands came back to her throat, choking her once more. Her breath left her as she clawed at the priest, trying to get him off of her. He removed one of his hands from her throat so he could punch her again.

But his actions were cut short.

A squelching sound, spurts of hot bloom followed. The priest fell from his position on Ivy and to the floor, clutching at his own throat. Michael stood above the girl, her knife in his hand, blood splattered across his face. His breaths were heavy and deep, as were Ivy's. He collapsed to his knees, dropping the knife in the process. The girl sat up and slowly crawled over to him, tears falling from her eyes.

Ivy hugged Michael, her body was racked with sobs but he was just shaking from the adrenaline. Every part of him, his chest heaved and his hands were quivering. Carefully he brought them up to her waist and squeezed. A whimper left his throat and he quickly buried his head in the crook of the girl's neck. "You did so well, you did so well. It's alright." She whispered in his ear, placing soft kisses to his head.

They pulled away from the hug as a small silver spoon clattered to the floor next to their feet. Their heads turned to be met with Charlie who was sat in the doorway to a small room. Another sob left Ivy as Michael approached the kid, taking him into his arms as carefully as he could.

The car journey back to Tommy's house was completely silent. Ivy and Michael had tried to wipe as much blood off of their faces as they could with a cloth but stains still remained on their faces. Charles was sat on Ivy's lap, he was asleep before they'd even set off, the whole ordeal must've been exhausting and understandably so. Somewhere along the journey, the girl had taken one hand off of Charles to hold on to one of Mickey's. Every couple of minutes, he would glance over at Ivy and squeeze her hand to check that she was alright.

As they walked into Tommo's house, they were immediately met with Ada and Polly, their faces overrun with happiness. Ada immediately took Charles into her arms and Polly approached the pair. She placed her left hand on Ivy's cheek, her right one on Michael. She knew something had changed in them, between them. Pol's hands slipped from them as tears fell from Ivy's eyes again. She wasn't sad, she was just overwhelmed from everything. The woman engulfed the girl in a warm hug. They pulled away in time to see Michael turn away from them and walk to the door. "Mickey?" Ivy called out to him. "Charlotte." He muttered as he took a brief look at the girl before leaving the house. Ivy and Polly traded a look before turning back to Ada and Charles.

Ada left the room shortly after so she could put Charles to bed. Polly turned to the girl, "Tommy's called a meeting for tomorrow. He wants everyone to be there." Ivy nodded, sighing slightly, "Alright," Polly rubbed her shoulder lightly as they walked into Tom's living room and sat on one of the sofas.

"I should get some sleep, it’s been a long day." Ivy told the women once Ada had returned. "Stay with us Ivy, just for one drink. You can relax now." Polly encouraged the girl and eventually she agreed. "Actually, can I make a call first? I promise I’ll come back." Ada and Polly raised an eyebrow at each other but allowed her to make the call. Ivy wanted to call Finn, to make sure his job went well and he wasn’t hurt. She walked into the hallway where one of Tom’s many telephones were. She told the operator who she wanted to speak to and waited for him to pick up. It didn’t take long.

"Finn, are you okay?" Ivy’s words were rushed, eager to see if his job went well. "Yeah, I'm alright. Job went well, how did yours go? Michael give you any trouble?" She could almost feel the heat from Finn’s anger through the phone when the last sentence slipped from his lips. “I’m a little banged up, but I’m okay.” She decided to ignore the part about Michael, not wanting to speak about him with Finn for the time being. “That’s good, that’s good,” His last words were whispered, a long pause soon followed. “Doll, what’s going on with you and Michael? I’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way you look at him. The way you act around each other and talk to each other. It’s clear you’re not just friends.” Ivy was lost for words. This was a conversation to be had in person, not over the phone. It was too personal, too important. “Finn, we should talk about this tomorrow, before Tom’ mee-”

“Don’t you love me, Ivy?” His voice broke as he spoke. Pain shot through Ivy’s heart. She wanted nothing more than to hug the boy, to comfort him, to run her fingers through his hair and tell him everything’s going to be alright. “I do, Finn. It’s just...complicated. I’ll explain more tomorrow. I promise.” Only Finn’s heavy breaths were heard over the phone. “Fine.” He finally spoke. “Goodnight, Finn.” Ivy told the boy but he’d already hung up the phone. She sighed, tomorrow would be difficult.

Ivy spent the night drinking with Ada and Polly, wanting to forget about the conversation she would have to have with Finn the next day. She dreaded it and the day came all-too fast. Before long, everyone was piled into Tommo’s office. Arthur, Linda, John, Esme, Polly, Ada, Michael, Ivy, Finn, Isaiah, Johnny Dogs, Curly, Charlie, and Lizzie all waited in the office for Tom’s meeting. Both Michael and Finn had started to make their way over to Ivy, but Mickey had gotten there first, stopping Finn in his tracks.

"I ended it." His voice was quiet, he didn't want anyone else to hear. Ivy's eyes weren't focused on Michael though, she watched as the auburn haired boy rolled his eyes before moving to talk to Isaiah. The girl wanted to push past Michael to explain things in full to the teen but she couldn't. "What?" She questioned, turning back to the man in front of her. "Charlotte. She got rid of the baby, we're not together anymore."

"How do you feel about that?" Ivy asked, not wanting to offend him in her reaction. She was glad for him, she never liked Charlotte anyway. He was better off without her. "Relieved." He breathed out. Ivy pulled him in for a short hug anyway, still wanting to provide some comfort. She knew how tough the whole ordeal had been for him. But before she could say anything else, Tommo had entered the room, stacks of cash in his hands. Everyone began to take their seats and Tom layed the cash in separate piles on his desk. Ivy tried to move to sit next to Finn but the seats were taken before she could get there, the only spare one was between Ada and Michael. She sighed once more, hoping the meeting would go fast so she could explain things to Finn. The girl had gone from dreading her talk with the boy to hoping it would come sooner. Maybe things would be better, easier for them once he knew everything? But what would she even say to him?

Tommy sat down at his desk, his arms spread and placed upon it's surface. "Before I begin," He spoke, "I want to let you know I made a mistake," Polly shot a look at the man as he stood from his chair, "I made a mistake and I want to apologise to all of you," He turned to his eldest brother, "Arthur, you warned me against getting involved in Russian business. And you were right." The man hummed in agreement, choosing not to speak. "I doubted your wife. For that I'm sorry. Linda, I've added £3,000 here in the hope that you'll forgive me." Tommo reached forward and took one of the stacks of cash and threw it closer to Arthur and Linda. The woman took a glance at the money before standing up and approaching the desk. "Apology accepted." She took the money and returned to her seat.

Tommy took another deep breath before continuing to hand out the money, "Esme, I doubted you as well." Esme was not as easily pleased with the money as Linda was, "Now John's got innocent lives on his conscience. Ordinary working men..." Her words were cut off by John himself trying to shush her. "No, she's right," Tommy defended her. "And you and Arthur are gonna have to share that burden. But I hope the house that you can buy with this can become a place of contemplation. Perhaps redemption," It was John's turn to come up to the table and take his money.

Tommo turned to Charlie next, "Charlie, for lost tools, dangerous goods and Curly's wise words. Johnny, for board and lodgings," He threw the cash at the men. He then turned to Lizzie, "Lizzie," But before more words left his mouth, she'd pushed the money back towards him. Tom raised an eyebrow but continued nonetheless. It was Ivy's turn next. "Ivy, the Duchess, Tatiana, sends her regards, she said in reference to you, 'Her eyes will open before long. She'll find out what she really wants, what she's really missing out on.' That mean anything to you?" Ivy shook her head, what the fuck did that mean? She hadn't even spoken to the woman before, although she had seemed to have taken an interest in the girl for some reason. Tommo pushed a stack of cash towards her. From the corner of her eye, she could see Polly shake her head and roll her eyes. She clearly didn't agree with it.

Tom continued anyway, again. "£3,000 for helping Michael with Hughes and an added £5,000 for all the trouble with Alfie. I shouldn't have forced you against him," The girl stayed silent as she stood up and accepted her money. "Michael," Polly tutted once more, "For the killings, £5,000 for the cutting and £5,000 for the shooting." Polly lept from her chair and pushed the money away, her eyes burning into Tommy's. Ivy and Michael took a quick glance towards each other, mildly fearing what was about to come. Another lecture presumably. "No, Tommy."

"What? Tell me, eh! This is who I am! And this is all I can give you for what you’ve given me. Your hearts and your souls. Yesterday I nearly lost my son. You should fucking understand that. For what, eh? For what? For this? For this?" His arms gestured to the money that lay in front of him and his house. He scoffed before speaking again, "And I know you all want me to say that I’ll change. That this fucking business will change. But I’ve learnt something in the last few days. Those bastards, those bastards are worse than us!" He pointed to the window, anger fueling him further. "Politicians, fucking Judges, Lords and Ladies. They are worse than us. And they will never admit us to their palaces no matter how legitimate we become. Because of who we are. Because of who we fucking are, because of where we’re fucking from. Isn’t that right, Ada? Our Ada knows,"

Ivy looked towards the woman sat next to her. She crossed her arms and shook her head lightly. She was on the same page as Polly. "She got smart about the revolution. And she knows you have to get what you want your own way. Lizzie, I want it known that money was for you because some nights it was you who stopped my heart from breaking. No one else," Lizzie took a sharp intake of breath, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone else in the room. "And the rest of you, you took the King’s shilling. You took the King’s fucking shilling. When you take the King’s shilling, the King expects you to kill. Right, Arthur?"

Arthur was quiet with his words, "Yeah." He muttered. "That’s how it works. Right, John? Right, Ivy?" Both John and Ivy stayed silent, shame filling them both. The girl cast her eyes to the floor. Michael stood from his chair beside her and towards the desk, "That's right." He spat at his mum before returning to his chair. "That's right, Pol. That's fucking right." Tommo pointed at his aunt. She shook her head yet again, tears in her brown eyes. "Tommy, you've had a bad time. We understand. So at an alternative time..." She walked over to Michael and Ivy and snatched the money from their hands. Another glance was passed between them. "When we have all recovered, I would like to put before the family an alternative view of the future of the Shelby Company Limited. A more hopeful view."

"Which I, for one, would quite like to hear." Ada spoke up, Esme and Lizzie soon agreeing afterwards. Linda stood from her chair once more but placed her hands on Arthur's shoulders, "Come on, Arthur. The train for the dock leaves in one hour. Then we get the boat to New York and it'll all be in the past." Arthur and Tommy kept eye contact as Polly walked over to her nephew and hugged him. This was the first Ivy was hearing of the trip but it didn't surprise her. Linda was constantly trying to pry him from his family. Everyone in the room rose from their seats as Tommy sat back down in his. John patted Arthur on the back, a punch soon following from him. Ivy moved to give Arthur a hug, she squeezed him extra tight before she pulled away. She truly would miss him. He was family to her now, after all.

"I'll be off then, Tom. I'll see you, eh? I'll see you brother." Arthur began to leave the room, Linda close behind but they didn't get far before Tom spoke up again, "You can go but you won't get far, Arthur," He stopped in his tracks and turned to face his brother again. "I spoke to Moss last night. He told me that the Chief Constable of Birmingham has issued a warrant for your arrest. Murder, sedition conspiracy to cause explosion. John, they’re coming for you as well. Murder, conspiracy to cause explosion,"

Panic ensued across the room.

Arthur approached Tommy, anger filled in his veins. "Ivy, Michael," The girl's heart dropped, her hand immediately shooting to grab Mickey's. "For the murder of Hughes. Polly..." Fear, regret, anger, worry all pounded through Ivy's head. Tears spilled down her cheeks as nausea filled in her stomach. Her breaths became deep and heavy. Mickey turned to the girl, his hands on her shoulders. But he couldn't find the words to say.

"Polly, for the murder of Chief Inspector Chester Campbell," He continued to list off sentences as everyone started to scream and shout at each other. They struggled to believe what was actually happening. Finn ran to the girl, taking her in his arms, unsure of what else to do. Tears fell from his eyes also. "The people that we betrayed last night, they want to bring us down. They control the police,"

A knock at the door.

"They control the judges, they control the juries, they control the jails,"

A police whistle rang through the house. It was happening.

"But they do not control the elected government..." Tommo's words were drowned out by the panic taking over Ivy's mind and body. 'This can't be happening, this can't be happening.'

Everyone began to file out of the room. Shouts and screams becoming more frequent by the second. The police were in the house. Michael grabbed Ivy's hand, her hand shot out to Finn's. They all ran into the foyer of the house. Maybe they could make it out...

Police swamped the room, there was no hope. A policeman immediately came to the group, a baton raised above his head. He swung but Michael dodged it. Their hands disconnected. Ivy kicked the man but another police officer grabbed her. She was held to the floor, her cheek pressed against the cold marble as she was restrained, forced to watch the people she loved get arrested and beaten.

She was pulled to her feet. The coppers had caught everyone. Two vans were waiting outside. Ivy thrashed and fought as much as she could, but it was to no use. "Ivy!" Michael shouted as he was hit by one of the policemen before being shoved into one of the vans. "Michael!" She cried out, her throat becoming raw from the shouting. The girl was thrusted into a van. Her head was cloudy, her thoughts were cloudy, her vision was cloudy.

It was all too much, darkness consumed the girl, the void took over. The last thing she remembered was one thought...

'I'm going to fucking kill Thomas Shelby.'

xxix. NEW BEGINNINGS

MASTERLIST

TAG LIST:

@lemur46

#finn shelby #harry kirton #finn cole #michael gray #smut #fluff #angst #peaky blinders #alfie solomons #tommy shelby #treat you better

23 notes · View notes

averagejoesolomon · 3 years

Note

Please write Joe vs Rachel in a Moroccan bar omg

Well twist my arm, why don’t you—I must have written this interaction at least a hundred times by now, so what’s a hundred and one? Here’s a playlist that fits the mood, if you’re into that sort of thing.

As Time Goes By

She’s welcomed at the door by the bowtied charm of North African nightlife—crowded tables and rowdy chatter. Card games and drink orders. A smokey haze lingers above the room, curls catching along the lights, and music stretches toward the peak of every last archway. They’re a big band ensemble, live, led by a charismatic piano player with a voice like warm coals.

It’s the type of bar that hasn’t changed much since the 1940s, but she’s the type of woman who has never once looked out of place, no matter the era.

It comes as second nature to her as she takes in the stone, the smells, the warmth of scattered light. She’s been in dozens of buildings just like this one, time and time again, though she doesn’t let the memories surface. Instead, she scans the dim room, doubtless, determined, and finally she spots him. Alone.

Alone.

He’s at a table for two—out of habit, maybe—but the second seat is empty. For as long as she’s known him, he has existed solely as an extension of Matt. One might say the two had been inseparable, although to do so implies the presence of two separate entities, which could never do the pair of them justice. Matt and Joe had been exactly that—Matt and Joe. Not one without the other. Not ever.

He’s alone now. They all are.

Brass soars smoothly overhead, with a melody that she’s almost certainly danced to before. It compliments her steps as she slips through the crowds and slides past servers. He must see her coming. Must sense her somehow. He’s too good not to. But he doesn’t move, and she gets the distinct impression that maybe Joe Solomon is done running. For good.

His glass lands heavy against the table, ringing alongside a handful of identical crystal pieces—all empty, save the faintly brown ice that sits melted at their bottoms. Everything about him is slower, heavier, as he looks up to see her. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world...”

His beard is longer than she’s ever seen it, and it’s started to grey in their years apart. Shadows cut at his body in ways they never did before. Where his gaze once pierced, it now drifts—unfocused, and soft—and he appears more exhausted than a man like him ever should. “Joseph,” she says. “I called.”

With her words, his gaze falls, as though he doesn’t possess the strength to hold it up anymore. “S’been busy,” he drawls. “Or something.”

The heat of a Moroccan summer sits thick in the air between them, unaided by the fans above. “Or something,” she says, eyeing his collection of glasses once more. “How many have you had?”

“Tonight?” he mutters. “Or since...?”

He doesn’t need to say the name. She hears it in her sleepless nights and her wakeless mornings. If Joe has a number, she doesn’t want to hear it, because she knows her own and she suspects that he’s more than doubled it. “Tonight.”

He turns the empty glass in his hand, a gentle sway to his movements that can’t be blamed on the music. There’s a moment when she regrets coming—a moment when she realizes that this isn’t Joe. Not anymore. Not in the way she needs him. “I tried, Rachel,” he says instead. “I tried to find him. I swear I tried—”

“Joe, don’t.”

“The trail went completely dry—never seen anything like it.”

“Stop it.”

“There’s almost always something. There’s always something. A conversation with a stranger, or footprints in the snow—”

“Stop.”

“S’like he knew. It’s like he didn’t want—”

“That’s enough,” she says, and she only shouts because the music has gotten louder. And his voice has gotten louder. And everything has gotten louder. “I’m not here to talk about Matt. I don’t want to talk about Matt.”

The name shreds at her lips, and lands like a dagger on the table. Only then is Joe finally able to look up at her, a lingering glance from the top of his eyes. His voice is quieter than hers. “Then why are you here, Rachel?”

The piano sounds of chaos. The drum, of gunshots. Humidity settles along her skin, heat soaking into her muscles, and she sits. Because she cannot stand any longer. Rachel Morgan joins Joe Solomon at his empty table for two. “I can’t stop thinking about the last time I was here,” she says. Then, after some thought. “We were here, I suppose.”

Joe nods. “He does that to you,” he says. “No matter where you go, he shows up.”

“He was just too goddamn excited to be here,” she says. “The culture, the cities—”

“The chocolate.”

“He ate the chocolate until he was sick to his stomach.”

“I thought you weren’t here to talk about Matt.”

“I’m not.”

“Rachel.”

“I’m not.”

“Rachel.”

“But on that last night,” she says. “That night when his comms went silent... he had plenty of close calls, but that was among the closest. And I just remember waiting—waiting, like I’ve never waited before, all tight and terrible. From the top of the embassy, I just waited, looking out over the square, hoping beyond hope that I’d see him slip out of that courthouse. And when he did, he—”

“Winked at you,” Joe finishes. “I remember. You gave him hell for that one for months. He walked out like nothing happened, and smiled, and winked right at you.”

“One of the top agents in his field, and he risks his cover—risks our cover. It was foolish.”

Joe’s finger finds its way around the rim of his glass, rolling over crystal until it rings, although they can hardly hear it above the band. “Why are you here, Rachel?”

And she’s forgotten. Forgotten what it feels like to be surrounded by people who can read her. Who are specially trained to reach into her soul. “I feel like I’m waiting, Joe,” she says. “I feel like I’m stuck on that embassy rooftop, and I have been for years, and I would give anything—anything—for him to walk out and wink at me. I’d give anything for a wink that says ‘It’s okay. I’m here now.’”

Rachel doesn’t need to be trained in the art of body language to see Joe’s jaw set. She doesn’t need to be an agent to notice the way he swallows, long and slow and hard. But she is, so she does. “He’s not going to do that, Rachel.”

There’s very few people in the world who have both the necessary covert knowledge and the necessary guts to speak to her about Matthew. Even if he is drunk and even if it does only last the night, some part of her is grateful for Joe’s presence. “I need you, Joe.”

And that seems to sober him up, even if only slightly. “You’ve never needed anyone.”

“That’s not true,” she says, and they both know that in the world of Rachel Morgan, there has always been at least one person that made her stronger. “And now I need you.”

“You don’t.”

“Joe,” she says, stern, but soft. Because maybe there haven’t been enough people in the world who spoke softly to him. And maybe he needs her, too. “Cammie’s starting CoveOps this year. I need someone—I need you.”

“I’m not your guy.”

“You’re a teacher,” she says. “You taught Matt everything he knows.”

“Knew,” Joe says. “I taught Matt everything he knew.”

“So then do better,” she says, and it’s the end of it. It really is. “Be better. Get your head out of your whiskey, and come back to the States, and stop running away from me. From him. I need you, Joe. I need you to come home.”

She stands, no longer willing to join him at his lonely table. She stands, and she realizes that she never should have expected this to go any better than it has. There’s a flight she has to catch, and a school she has to run, and a daughter she has to love. She’s too smart to hang all of her hope on Joe Solomon.

Still. “I’ll be waiting, Joe.” And the band continues to play as she finds her own way out.

#Anonymous

13 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

No Sudden Move Review: Slow Speed Heists Get Away With Bigger Hauls

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Steven Soderbergh’s No Sudden Move is deviously sexy. Not in that sweaty between the sheets way best enjoyed up against a wall. The subtle eroticism comes from what’s under the sheets and behind the walls. Every character has something to hide, and nothing to say about it. Secrets are like mascara, alibis are fedoras. Everybody wants something, but they won’t say what it is. The biggest villains want things to disappear, and they certainly don’t want anybody talking about it.

No Sudden Move is a heist film, but don’t go in expecting Ocean’s 11, in spite of the all-star cast. This is a theft worth savoring, and Soderbergh gives the players room to breathe. Of course, any of those breaths can be a character’s last, which becomes apparent very quickly. Most of the other information trickles out like blood from exit wounds, as the film captures the most muted tones of classic film noir. The body count isn’t the most exciting part of the movie, though. It’s the ulterior motives.

Brendan Fraser plays a button man named Jones who is putting a three-man team together for a contract job. Don Cheadle’s Curt Goynes is newly out of prison and needs the scratch. Benicio Del Toro’s Ronald Russo is a dapper professional who doesn’t like having to look over his shoulder, and could use cold cash to improve his view. Kieran Culkin plays Charley Barnes, and he wears ulterior motives on his lapel. He comes into the movie looking like he’s just finished burying a body.

It all begins with a simple plan. Just a few hours’ work. Two of the mobsters have to babysit a family while the other one escorts the dad into work so he can pick up some papers. It’s almost the plot of The Desperate Hours, the classic 1955 home invasion hostage thriller which starred Humphrey Bogart and Fredric March. But that’s just the opening riff of a landlocked surf tune as No Sudden Move quickly rides a different wave on increasingly treacherous waters.

Set in 1954, No Sudden Move lets the Motor City live up to its name. Before Motown churned out hits, Detroit was best known for pumping out cars. Those factory-line manufactured vehicles pumped out emissions, darkening skylines like Soderbergh clouds his intent. Written by Ed Solomon, this is as far from his work on Men in Black or Bill and Ted as can be imagined. There are no gadgets in sight, and the comedy is so subtle, you sometimes have to strain your ears to hear it. Like much of the dialogue, everything about the film is low key. The angriest threats come out as barely perceptible whispers, while the beatings are often telegraphed.

“I’m going to punch you now, sir,” Matt Wertz (David Harbour) advises his boss in a desperate scene. The heretofore mild-mannered, slightly bumbling, accountant for General Motors knows full well how this will affect any future job performance evaluation, but presses on with his blow-by-blow accounting. “I’m punching you. This is gonna be a punch.” This is one of very few warnings issued during the run of the film. Most of the assaults are sucker punches, coming from unexpected blind spots.

Everyone in the film is corrupt, and everybody gets double-crossed. Mertz thinks he can sweet talk his way into a safe because he’s been screwing his boss’ secretary, played by Frankie Shaw. Russo has been having a very dangerous affair with his boss’ wife Vanessa, played by Julia Fox. And her husband isn’t just any boss. He’s Frank Capelli (Ray Liotta), who is in charge of organized crime in Detroit. The scene which confirms any suspicions about the affair is a short film in itself.

Curt came out of prison with a plan. He stashed a suitcase with a codebook he hopes will get him off the hook with crime lord Aldrich Watkins (Bill Duke) and help him earn enough cash to buy back some land he claims was taken from him. The entire film is color-coded. Goynes’ property was taken during the city’s “urban renewal” phase, when whole neighborhoods were seized from African-American homeowners through corporate and court-approved eminent domain. A Black bellhop or waiter might give a knowing nod and wink to Curt during perilous maneuvers around white pursuers. Russo is paid more than Goynes to do the job, and his bounty is higher when the mob wants recourse.

Cheadle is quietly commanding as Goynes, the smartest of the freelance criminals. He’s a hustler who has a messy past with the gangsters and knows how to make things happen on the fly. Russo is a little dim but smart enough to be suspicious of everyone. “Sit in the front seat,” he tells Goynes when they first meet. He doesn’t want to be in the prone shotgun position. Goynes and Russo form an uneasy partnership when they realize they’ve been set up and were supposed to be eliminated after the job. They realize the document they stole is worth a bundle, set out to skip the middleman, and get their payday from the highest bidder. The scheme is improvised as the characters go along, and the plot gleefully follows. The big picture comes together more like a jigsaw puzzle than a blueprint, and it’s an engineering marvel.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The cars, clothes, architecture, and pork pie hats of the time are expertly recreated by production designer Hannah Beachler. And of course, Jon Hamm looks like a period piece no matter where he’s set. His detective Joe Finney comes on the scene to investigate an improbable act of self-defense when one of the intruding trio winds up on the floor at Mertz’s house. The accountant’s wife Mary (Amy Seimetz) and daughter (Lucy Holt) stick to an agreed story, but his son, played by Noah Jupe, has a harder time keeping secrets, the most valuable asset in a film like this.

The detective is keeping things pretty close to his vest as well, though there is one scene where he appears to hide his darkest deeds in plain sight. No Sudden Move expertly reveals how the most sinister of crimes are committed in full view of the public.

For all the criminals, cutthroats, and scoundrels of the film, the most vile villain is Mr. Big. Played with a smarmy grin and privileged authority by Matt Damon, he is not a mob kingpin in perfect pinstripes. But he is scarier than Luca Brasi in The Godfather, the book, not the movie. There is no conscience. There is no regret, something even Brasi had. There is only the bottom line, and he keeps his ledgers in the black.

No Sudden Move is pure, old-fashioned cinema art. The film even opens on a vintage Warner Bros. logo. Soderbergh trades in his iPhone for old model cameras and lenses, and the only special effects are the same skewered camera angles used during the Golden Age of Hollywood. The characters come across as genuinely desperate, like the crime crew in Stanley Kubrick’s 1955 crime noir The Killing, and their final payoff is as poignantly unsatisfying. Good things only seem to happen to bad people. But it’s by design.

No Sudden Move is available to stream on HBO Max.

The post No Sudden Move Review: Slow Speed Heists Get Away With Bigger Hauls appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3h9NWuP

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

0 notes

bomberlandia · 4 years

Text

Part II: Ranking Every Bomber Since 2015

We finish Ranking Every Bomber Since 2015 with the final stretch, a selection of players who were consistent, dominated, and held the team together through a pretty dark era for the club.

In Part II, we get into the meat of the rankings. Most of the names you’d expect to be here are here and the Top 20 is as you’d expect although no-one probably thought of Ridley before this year to be ranked among the likes of Dustin Fletcher and Dylan Shiel.

Enough with the prelude. Let’s see where things finished up.

Players Ranked from 38 to 1

38. Adam Cooney

37. Shaun McKernan

36. Patrick Ambrose

35. Mason Redman

34. Travis Colyer

33. Mitch Brown

32. Conor McKenna

31. Sam Draper

30. Jake Stringer

JR: If luck will let it be, Sam Draper will evolve into one of Essendon’s greatest ruckman and will become a Top 15 player. I hope I have not jinxed it. His first year was a real treat. Aggression is his friend. I wrote about Mitch Brown and how underrated he is and I sometimes have those feelings where I wish he was back at Essendon but then realize he plays one good game followed by three games where you don’t even know he exists.

DE: Some serviceable players here. McKenna was entering his prime, but having lived overseas myself I know how difficult it is to be so far from family and friends, so I sympathise with his need to return home. McKernan could have been anything, but again consistency was a killer. Could tear games apart, then be barely sighted the following week. Stringer is similar.

29. Kyle Langford

28. Heath Hocking

27. Jake Melksham

26. Ben Howlett

25. David Myers

24. Courtenay Dempsey

23. Michael Hibberd

22. Tom Bellchambers

JR: My favourite Hocking games were when he tagged a key midfielder, like a Chris Judd and would blanket them. He was a brute who loved to tackle inside the centre square and packs that formed around stoppages. He was disciplined and a defensive-minded trier during a time when the Bombers lacked defensive hard nuts. Probably cut with the same physical cloth as a Hardwick or Solomon.

DE: Hocking, Howlett and Bellchambers were warriors for us during difficult times. Myers had such potential, but for some reason never seemed to be in favour enough with his coaches. I felt he could have been a game-breaker like Isaac Smith at Hawthorn if given the opportunities. Dempsey was exciting to watch when he was up and about.

21. Orazio Fantasia

20. Martin Gleeson

19. Darcy Parish

18. Dylan Shiel

17. Dustin Fletcher

16. Jordan Ridley

JR: Fletcher will have greater stakes on other rankings we do. He was at the end of his career. Fantasia has been disappointing. He’s a weapon that possesses speed and goal-kicking sensibilities but not having a body that stands up to the rigours of AFL limits his progression in these rankings. Ridley went from unsighted to best and fairest winner in 12 months. He plays the game like a veteran which speaks to his calmness around the chaotic packs. Expect him to make inroads in years to come.

DE: The great Dustin Fletcher only falls down this list because he was at the tail end of his career. Otherwise, he’d be top-five. I reckon Gleeson was becoming a reliable and attacking defender before his injury, so hopefully he can regain his best form in 2021. Ridley will be top-five for years to come. Expect to see lots of kids, including my son Ernie, wearing No. 14 on their backs.

15. Adam Saad

14. James Kelly

13. Anthony McDonald-Tipungwuti

12. Devon Smith

11 Mark Baguely

JR: Kelly came out of retirement to play 40 games for Essendon during a raw period for the Bombers. He excelled in making good decisions across half back and had sublime skills. He was a mentor to the young core of kids. I think he gave the club more than the Bombers bargained for on and off the field. He left Geelong at the end of 2015, started in 2016 at Essendon and he’s still at Windy Hill.

DE: Baguely’s high ranking might surprise some, but I really rated him. I thought he gave his all for us over a long period, even if he did turn it over sometimes. If Walla can get fitter, I’d love to see him throwing his weight around in the centre square more often. With Fantasia departing, more pressure will come onto his strong shoulders. Kelly was another who earned his way into Bomber hearts for the role he played (on and off the field) during the dark days.

10. Brent Stanton

JR: Stanton was a whipping boy for all things that went wrong on the field. Played during a period where the Bombers just weren’t very good. I think we undervalued his metres gained and the run and carry he provided. Instead we think about the costly turnovers. People laughed when he was given the no.5 jumper. But he became a pivotal piece to the team, a long servant, and loyal player. And those things mean something.

DE: I’ve settled on 10th place for Stanton with some trepidation. He was a favourite with coaches and teammates, but was one of my most frustrating players to watch as I felt he turned the ball over far too often. In the modern game, however, a player’s ability to run seems to outweigh their skill deficiencies. He wore the beloved No. 5, which never sat comfortably with me. But there was no denying he gave his all for our club, for which he should be commended.

9. Joe Daniher

JR: Is Joe going to regret leaving? When I think of his time at Essendon there’s only a few things that come to mind – Anzac Day 2017, the All-Australian nod, and his screamers. What won’t be missed: his set shot routine and (often) poor body language. He only played 15 games in the last three years but when fit, he’s unstoppable. I think there’s always going to be debate and question marks on where Joe fits when pitted against other Bombers.

DE: Unimaginable to think Joe will not be wearing an Essendon guernsey anymore, given the family’s involvement. But since becoming injury-prone he’s been a huge disappointment and, in terms of on-field output, I’m fine with him leaving. At his peak, he could have been Buddy Franklin-like, but sitting on the fence while your teammate kicks for goal is embarrassing. Imagine if Roughy had done that at Hawthorn…Clarko would have sent him home to Leongatha! Thanks for your service, Joe, but thanks, too, for the salary cap room.

8. David Zaharakis

7. Cale Hooker

JR: Both players have been very good servants over a ten-year period – Zaharakis has played 217 games; Hooker 201 games. Zaharakis gets credit for being able to stay relevant, playing roles, and doing what the teams needs him to be. If this was my all-time favourite Essendon player’s list, Hooker would be higher. The fact he shares the backline with Hurley – a superstar- probably takes inches off his position on this list. His reported displeasure about Bellchambers not getting a farewell game and the joy he emits when he kicks a goal only shows how much he cares for the club. Hooksy is all-time.

DE: Zaka has at times been dynamic, with his outside run and good decision-making as good as any in the league. Hooker could have accepted a huge offer to joining Fremantle, but stuck by the club and deserves to see out his career a one-club player. Sometimes makes strange decisions, but overall has been a terrific defender (at times forward) for us over a long time. Forget the footage of him chasing Buddy – Hook has given his all for our club. What more can you ask of someone?

6. Andrew McGrath

5. Brendon Goddard

JR: Goddard was a proven elite weapon with deadly foot skills before he came to Essendon. His leadership proved valuable to rebuilding and supplements teams. I wrote about Andrew McGrath’s incredible rise this year for Bomberlandia and covered his journey to the draft for Sportsnet. The two things that stand out are his athleticism and his leadership. His work around the ball is now elite. He’s only 22.

DE: McGrath will lead this list in the near future. His 2020 season was outstanding and, to me, he was our number-one leader through a difficult period as he showed a will to want to carry his teammates to victory week after week. Certain to replace Dyson in the near future and hold the position for a long time. Goddard could rub people the wrong way, but he showed us all what type of attitude you need to be a winner. A victim of poor circumstances when he arrived, but led the team admirably.

4. Dyson Heppell

3. Michael Hurley

JR: Hurley is approaching 200 games (193) and his longevity has seen him become of the best defenders Essendon has ever produced. I still think about what would have happened if he stayed a forward. If you think of all the games the Bombers have played since 2015, Hurley has probably featured in the best in most of them. I reported on Heppell during his Gippsland Power days for the Pakenham Gazette. On the field he changed games, made good decisions and was gutsy. Most of all his teammates looked up to him. That continued when he joined Essendon.

DE: As a fellow Leongatha boy, have followed Dyson’s career closely. Popular with everyone, he’s been a decent leader during difficult times. But it’s time for a more ruthless skipper, like a Voss or a Hodge or a McGrath. Hopefully he can keep his body healthy for the rest of his career. Hurley has been a warrior for us, crashing packs and putting his body on the line year after year. At one point I felt he should be captain. Like Dyson, I hope he stays healthy and finishes his career in red and black.

2. Jobe Watson

JR: I thought Jobe would be too slow to play in the midfield but he proved me wrong. I thought he wasn’t elite enough and then he won a Brownlow. He spent his career proving people wrong. A stoic leader. Stood tall during the supplement’s saga which happened during the twilight of his career which makes him, as Dan put it, “one of the greats.”

DE: Jobe would have been No. 1, but he was at the end of his career when this list starts. One of the best of his generation, poorly treated during the dark days yet remained a strong leader throughout. If a Team of the Century was picked today, he’d be on the bench at least. One of the greats. That he emerged from his father’s shadow to carve out his own fine career is a testament to his determination.

1. Zach Merrett

JR: What else needs to be said about Zach Merrett? The fact everyone was up-in-arms during the trade period at the thought of him going to a club like Carlton or Collingwood, says a lot about who he is and what he stands for. He’s been super consistent and reliable for a five-year stretch during a time where the Bombers haven’t been easy to read. I can only see McGrath or Josh Dunkley (if the club gets him) as two players that could surpass Merrett. Until that happens, it’s Zach Merrett over everyone.

DE: While Zachy isn’t a game-breaker in the way a Patrick Dangerfield is at Geelong, he has undoubtedly been our most consistent player over the period in question. No frills, just gets the job done. But it shows our lack of top-end talent when Zach stands alone for the Bombers on league leaderboards for stats.

_______________________________________

Historian Dr Dan Eddy is the author of 12 books, including “King Richard” and “Always Striving.” A life-long Bomber supporter, you can follow him on Twitter @DanEddyBooks35 and read his sports books at www.daneddybooks.com.

0 notes

y-no-temas · 5 years

Text

Dear Joseph

It was somewhere around my senior of college that my eyes laid hold of you. Your caramel brown skin graced in front of a red backdrop was full screen on my laptop. A theology that was all to different from mine. But I had been exposed to it. And I actually regret not keeping in touch with a few of the people I met from #TeamJesus when Twitter was first poppin. But nonetheless, I continue this letter. Your face graced my screen on a pretty consistent basis. I wasn’t mad. I was learning from a brother that was actually not on trash.

In passing, I would tell my friends that you was bae and it didn’t matter if the distance between our heights were that of a newborn baby. I told my friends I took what TI said seriously in Motivation: 5’9 with the soul of a 6’4 n****. Nor did our road trip distance of 17 hours, or 8 hours, or 6 hours, depending on the state you were in at the time) make a difference.

Not to be weird, or cheesy, or cliche, but sometimes I tweet, comment on IG and reply to your instastories hoping that maybe, JUST MAYBE, you’ll actually read one. Actually reply. Actually take the time to see little ol me, down here in no mans land.

Sometimes I dream about being the reason you’ll love my city so much. Dream of being the reason you take a random flight out, barely make it through the doors of my job and have the receptionist interrupt the intake I’m conducting to tell me I have a visitor.

Sometimes I imagine being your tour, showing you all around town, all the shopping, all the bookstores, all the food. Having my friends hook you up with their Apple discount. Having you help me decide which camera to buy. Sometimes I dream of having theological discussions to really put into practice “iron sharpens iron”. Sometimes I dream that, even though you say you’re hard to love, and get along with, and understand, I can take a stab at it.

I’ve met you before. A few times actually. Took a couple of fan pics. Too nervous to say much else other than “thanks, Joe” and telling my friends “hey! I’ve been watching him for years. Whatever you do, don’t say nothing about his height!”

You think of many aspects of your life, including your ring finger. I only know this because, well, I’ve seen all your videos a million and one times. I assure you, you’re doing fine. I worry more than most, myself. Things can get a little tricky for women. But this isn’t about me. This isn’t about you. This is how a fan that looks like a smurf standing next to you, feels about the Joseph Solomon she’s seen on the screen and on stage since she was 22.

You’ll probably never see this. But it’s ok. Sometimes an artist doesn’t need the recognition. Just the space. But I wish you all the best, Mr. Solomon. Even if it isn’t me, you’re worth the fight, the tears, the lonely nights, the bare ring finger. You’re worth the wait to some woman who is being prepared to love you in her gentle and quiet spirit.

Sincerely

Just a fan

#poetry #just a fan #fan #letter #love letter #joseph solomon

0 notes

medproish · 6 years

Link

Each first-round draft pick provides the chance to change your team’s trajectory. It also can end up being a regrettable decision, much like that late-night drive-thru run after an evening of revelry. (Which, of course, precedes the hazy, late-night impulse purchase on NFL Shop where you unexpectedly end up with a Jay Cutler throwback on your doorstep seven to 10 working days later. Oh, wait — I don’t regret that at all.)

But today, I would love to give every team a do-over from last year’s draft. And who wouldn’t want that kind of hindsight?

NOTE: For the purposes of this exercise, I worked off the draft order that we had ENTERING the first round of last year’s event — before a series of draft-night trades mucked things up.

Deshaun Watson, QB, Clemson

As is tradition, we lead off with the quarterback the Brownsshould have selected. Is 2018 the year the Browns do the right thing? Nah. They’ll go Saquon Barkley at No. 1 and Bradley Chubb at No. 4, only to trade back into the first to take Mason Rudolph. Sorry, I’m projecting.

Actual pick:Myles Garrett, DE, Texas A&M.

Myles Garrett, DE, Texas A&M

I’m going to assume the 49ers still end up with Jimmy G (I know, this time travel stuff is weird — try pragmatically thinking your way through the “Back to the Future” movies), so it makes sense to go with the biggest impact player on the defensive side of the ball. But in this redo, you don’t get the Bears‘ picks.

Actual pick:Solomon Thomas, DE, Stanford (at No. 3 overall following trade with Bears).

Mitchell Trubisky, QB, North Carolina

Did I make a YouTube video complaining about this pick in the aftermath? I did. Do I regret it now? I do. Are rhetorical questions the laziest of the writing devices? Sure are. But Mitch can play.

Actual pick:Mitchell Trubisky, QB, North Carolina (at No. 2 overall following trade with 49ers).

Marshon Lattimore, CB, Ohio State

Tennessee’s actual pick, Corey Davis, has potential at receiver, but Lattimore is a true difference maker on defense.

Actual pick:Corey Davis, WR, Western Michigan.

Patrick Mahomes, QB, Texas Tech

Jamal Adams was a great pick. But the Jets have longed for a quarterback since the Chad Pennington era. Mahomes brings some excitement and, you know, is a quarterback.

Actual pick:Jamal Adams, S, LSU.

Jamal Adams, S, LSU

The Chargers are loaded at the cornerback position, and Adams would make L.A.’s defensive secondary absolutely (wait for it) great. Ah, I’m just kidding. Electric. The Chargers‘ secondary would be electric.

Actual pick:Mike Williams, WR, Clemson.

Alvin Kamara, RB, Tennessee

I’m torn here. McCaffrey was a pretty good player for the Panthers in Year 1. And you wonder if Kamara would have had the same impact if he landed in Charlotte. But watching Kamara last year, he looked like the better back.

Actual pick:Christian McCaffrey, RB, Stanford.

T.J. Watt, Edge, Wisconsin

This might be a reach. But there is something so Bengals-like about drafting a guy who crushed it for the Steelers.

Actual pick:John Ross, WR, Washington.

Tre’Davious White, CB, LSU

Well it was a better deal nabbing White at No. 27 after trading down last year, for sure. But guess what? You missed the Happy Hour pricing and you have to take him here.

Actual pick:Tre’Davious White, CB, LSU (at No. 27 overall following trade with Chiefs).

Kareem Hunt, RB, Toledo

Lattimore and Kamara — two picks from New Orleans’ epic 2017 draft haul — are already gone. But Hunt would have a similar impact to Kamara.

Actual pick:Marshon Lattimore, CB, Ohio State.

Ryan Ramczyk, OT, Wisconsin

The eventual replacement for Joe Thomas.

Actual pick:Jabrill Peppers, S, Michigan (at No. 25 overall following trade with Texans).

Derek Barnett, DE, Tennessee

So many things went right for the Eagles in 2017, including this pick right here. So there is no need to change it at all.

Actual pick:Derek Barnett, DE, Tennessee.

Malik Hooker, S, Ohio State

This was a pretty good pick for the Colts. Injuries cost Hooker, but he’s going to be great in Indy for a long time.

Actual pick:Malik Hooker, S, Ohio State.

JuJu Smith-Schuster, WR, USC

The Ravens have seemingly never hit on a receiver in the draft. The Steelers seem to never miss.

Actual pick:Marlon Humphrey, CB, Alabama.

Jarrad Davis, LB, Florida

The Redskins need help up the middle on defense. The best DT on the board (Dalvin Tomlinson) might not be the best fit in a 3-4, so we’ll go with Davis in this spot.

Actual pick:Jonathan Allen, DE, Alabama.

Dalvin Tomlinson, DT, Alabama

The Titans lost just Sylvester Williams, but Tomlinson would be there to fill a need. Can you imagine this defense with Lattimore and Tomlinson from last year?

Actual pick:Adoree’ Jackson, CB, USC.

Dalvin Cook, RB, Florida State

The Bucs have needed a running back for some time. And had he stayed healthy, Cook might have been the best rookie back last season.

Actual pick:O.J. Howard, TE, Alabama.

Christian McCaffrey, RB, Stanford

All right: The thought of Lil’ McCaffrey playing for the Broncos is a visual that is just too good to pass up. And with the recent release of C.J. Anderson, it’s clear the Broncos favor running backs who can catch.

Actual pick:Garett Bolles, OT, Utah.

Evan Engram, TE, Ole Miss

The Lions haven’t been shy about taking tight ends in the first round. Even if it cost them Odell Beckham Jr. and Aaron Donald in the 2014 NFL Draft. But Engram would replace Ebron this year.

Actual pick:Jarrad Davis, LB, Florida.

Carl Lawson, Edge, Auburn

You have Cameron Wake and traded for Bobby Quinn, but I don’t see how you go wrong getting more pass rushers.

Actual pick:Charles Harris, DE, Missouri.

Cam Robinson, OT, Alabama

The Giants need offensive line help. I mean, they could use a lot of things, but let’s start with the line.

Actual pick:Evan Engram, TE, Ole Miss.

Marlon Humphrey, CB, Alabama

If you watched the Raiders attempt to play defense last year, you know corner was a screaming need. Humphrey was one of the best rookie CBs last year.

Actual pick:Gareon Conley, CB, Ohio State.

Dan Feeney, OG, Indiana

Houston could use some help up front. Freeney was especially effective as a road-grader who should help whomever is running for the Texans this year.

Actual pick:Deshaun Watson, QB, Clemson (at No. 12 overall following trade with Browns).

Shaquill Griffin, CB, UCF

The Seahawks snatched up Griffin in the third round last year, but will have to take him here in the first. He’ll headline as the leader of the recast Legion of Boom. I just get worried about reboots, though.

Actual pick:Malik McDowell, DT, Michigan State (at No. 34 overall following multiple trades down).

Desmond King, CB, Iowa

This is why you don’t pay too much attention to the NFL Scouting Combine, people. King, a fifth-round pick one year ago, would replace Marcus Peters.

Actual pick:Patrick Mahomes, QB, Texas Tech (at No. 10 overall following trade with Bills).

Cooper Kupp, WR, Eastern Washington

I hear the Cowboys could use a receiver. I mean, if they don’t sign that Dez Bryant guy in free agency, of course.

Actual pick:Taco Charlton, DE, Michigan.

Adoree’ Jackson, CB, USC

The NFC North is the premier offensive division in football (yeah, that checks out) and it’s important to add as many defensive playmakers as possible.

Actual pick:Kevin King, CB, Washington (at No. 33 overall following trade with Browns).

Eddie Jackson, S, Alabama

The Steelers need a safety. Jackson goes in the first here, after the Bears absolutely stole him in the fourth of the real 2017 draft. I’m old enough to remember when the Steelers did stuff like that.

Actual pick:T.J. Watt, Edge, Wisconsin.

Mike Williams, WR, Clemson

I don’t know — I feel like you can’t have too many big-bodied receivers for Matt Ryan to ignore.

Actual pick:Takkarist McKinley, Edge, UCLA (at No. 26 overall following trade with Seahawks).

Marcus Williams, S, Utah

Good lord, the Saints had an amazing draft last year. Here they get to hold on to one of their own.

Actual pick:Ryan Ramczyk, OT, Wisconsin.

Follow Adam Rank on Twitter @AdamRank.

Let’s block ads! (Why?)

Source link

The post 2017 NFL Draft do-over: Deshaun Watson goes No. 1 to Browns appeared first on trend views word.

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes

heathsbitch · 4 years

Text

Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

v. THE GARRISON

"He'll come and see her." She looked towards Tommo whilst he started the car. "For Polly's sake, I certainly hope so." They began their journey back to Small Heath. "Are you alright with moving in with Polly? I never asked." He never looked at the girl, he kept his eyes trained on the road the entire time. "Yeah, yeah. I think she's an incredible woman. I'm completely fine with it." He laughed at her sudden gesture of admiration for his aunt. "You might not be thinking that after a week of living with her."

"Why does everyone keep saying that I'm going to regret moving in with her?" Ivy asked him, slightly agitated that people kept putting Polly down behind her back. "You haven't known Polly for as long as we have, she can be difficult and stubborn. She treats you differently."

"Finn said the same thing yesterday and I still don't believe it." She threw her hands into her lap. She didn't want to argue, she just wanted to know what was so bad about Polly. "She's a great woman, very strong. But she does talk to you differently. Just be careful, okay? She might get a bit protective, with Michael as well." Ivy nodded, she should take his word for it. After all they are family and they know each other best. "So, how are you finding it in dirty old Birmingham?" Thomas asked the girl. "It's dirtier than London," She giggled. "I prefer it. London was always filled with politicians who thought they were better than everybody else or men that were trying to have sex with anything that moves." Tommo laughed at her joke and she smiled at him. "I never asked you about your mother. Alfie never mentioned being married before." Ivy flinched when he mentioned her mum. She was a sensitive topic. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, Ivy."

"I-it's okay. I-i don't mind." Ivy stuttered, conflicted on what to tell the man. "My dad was never really there for me, as you know. He was a tricky man and I think my mother definitely knew that. They were close, extremely close. But, they were never married," She was spilling all of her secrets to Tommo, the words kept falling out of her mouth and she couldn't stop them. "They argued a little bit before me but when my mother got pregnant they decided to stay together so they could raise me properly. They were a happy couple, until my brother came along." Tommo's head snapped to her. "You have a brother?" He asked,one eyebrow raised. "Yeah, his name is Joseph."

"Where is he now?" He questioned. "I'm getting there, Tommo," Ivy took in a deep breath before continuing her monologue. "When he was born, my parents would constantly argue. They would scream and growl at each other all because they both wanted to keep Joseph. That wouldn't have been a problem but they wanted to split up and only one of them could keep him." Tommy nodded, listening to her story and processing what she had been through. "My mum said that my father was 'too much' for her and that he was a lunatic. She wasn't wrong. Anyway, my mother wanted Joe because she wanted to keep him safe from my dad and his violent tendencies; she thought that I was already a 'lost cause'. My dad wanted him so he could be an heir to his company when he died and he thought girls were 'too much work'," Talking about her family hurt Ivy, they were memories, dreams, nightmares that brought pain. "My father wouldn't let my mum leave, so she left in the middle of the night. And she took Joe with her. She left no note, nothing. She just got up and left to start a new life with just her and my brother. I was two at the time."

"I'm sorry, Ivy. I didn't want to bring up bad memories." She sniffed, tears threatening to fall out of her eyes. "It's okay, I've seen worse." He took one hand off of the steering wheel and gripped one of hers. He squeezed it, comforting her. "Thank you, for everything. You took me in when you didn't know me, I had just killed two people. And you still saved me. Even when you found out who I was, you kept me around. Thank you, Thomas. I will be forever in your debt." He gave her a sympathetic smile. "I haven't had people thank me in a long time." He simply said.

The rest of the drive back was quiet, only the humming of the engine could be heard and the occasional bird flying over the top of the car. When they got back to Small Heath, Tommo said that he could give her a job. It was only managing the books. It was something to keep her busy while she was there, he said. He took Ivy to a small office. It had a desk in the middle of it, two chairs sat either side of it. Drawers and cabinets were dotted around the edges of the room. Sunlight beamed through the murky window that rested on the back wall. The door to the office was made of frosted glass and large windows rested next to it. It was the same room that Polly brought Ivy into last week. Only this time, 'Ivy Solomons' was plastered on the door in golden writing. "I had some people set this up while we were out. Think of it as an early birthday present." Ivy turned to look at Tommy. "How do you know when my birthday is?" She walked further into the room and sat in the plush chair that sat under the desk. "Finn talks too much." Ivy chuckled lightly at Finn's big mouth. "There are some papers on your desk that you can work through. Take it easy, though. You don't have to work too hard." She laughed and he smirked. "Okay. Thank you, Tommo." He left her 'office' and went to his own. The girl looked at the papers that were on her desk, they looked similar to the ones that Polly had her work through a couple of days ago.

About half an hour had passed by when she saw two figures walking past her office. Finn and Isaiah. They looked worried about something and they were walking towards Tommo's office. Ivy ignored the pair and got back on with her work. She thought that they'd probably done something utterly stupid knowing them. A couple of minutes later they walked back past her office again. Finn stopped in front of her door and turned to read Ivy's name. The girl laughed as she could see him get taken aback from the fact that she had an office. He knocked on her door and Ivy shouted to him "Come in!" He came into the room with a confused expression plastered on his face. "Since when did you get an office?" Ivy snorted at what he said. "Just now." Finn closed the door behind him and sat down in the chair in front of her. "Tommy must really like you." He lent back and relaxed in his chair. "Why did you have to go and see Tommo?" His face dropped and a look of sadness passed upon it. "Me and Isaiah were boxing with Arthur, he was fighting someone else. Someone quite young. H-h-he killed him. Ivy, Arthur killed him." Ivy stood up and walked over to Finn. "Finn, I'm sorry you had to see that." The girl crouched down next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He leant forward and reciprocated her actions. He sniffed into her hair. Finn acted tough but on the inside he was soft and sensitive. "I should get going." They pulled away from the hug and stood up. "You have work to do and stuff." Ivy followed him to the door where Isaiah was standing. "Hey, Ivy." He said looking her up and down. She scoffed "Hi, Isaiah."

"Are you going to the re-opening of The Garrison later?" Isaiah asked me. "The what?" Ivy looked between the two taller boys. "The Garrison. Has nobody told you about it?" Finn looked shocked at the fact that she didn't know what The Garrison was. "It's the pub my brothers run. It got blown up before you got here and it's just finished getting repaired." Finn told her. "Oh." Ivy said. "I'll probably be going then, if Polly is." They nodded their heads and Isaiah patted her shoulder. "We'll see you there then." He began to walk away but Finn stayed to ask the girl a question. "We can pick you up if you want, walk you there."

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Thank you." He grinned, a sense of pride shimmered through his face. He walked away, giving Ivy one last look before leaving her office.

When Ivy got back home, Polly told her to get ready for the "Grand re-opening of The Garrison". Sarcasm dripped from her words like venom, this is probably what the boys were telling her about. 'What had Thomas done now?'

"What's wrong, Polly?" Ivy asked her as she followed her up the stairs to their bedrooms. She was temporarily staying at her house in Small Heath before they moved in together properly, Tommo said it was so she could 'get used to her'. "You can call me Pol if you want, love." She dodged the girl's question. Ivy decided not to ask her again, to try and let her calm down a little bit. She walked into her room, also known as the guest room in Polly's house, so she could get dressed. Earlier that week, Polly and Ada had taken Ivy shopping to get some new clothes for her birthday that was in a few days. They had managed to find a beautiful grey dress that suited Ivy perfectly. It was a slightly tighter fitting than most dresses. Sequins were sewn into a v-shape down the front of it. It also had a silver head-band that came with it and some small silver heels. Polly had joked that it was the first dress she hadn't stolen in a while, Ada wasn't too happy with that. The young girl put some light make-up on, she didn't want to scare everyone away but she also wanted to look nice. The girl pinned the front two pieces of her hair back so she could keep them out of her face and so it would look good with the headband. Ada had also had the idea of buying some underwear, "Who are you trying to impress?" Polly had asked her. She playfully slapped her aunt's arm. Ivy had brought three pairs of quite expensive lingerie; a white set, a black set and a red set. Ivy had decided to wear the black set that night. When they were shopping, Polly and Ada said they were treating the younger girl and that she shouldn't worry about the price of things. Finally, she slipped her dress over her head and her heels onto her feet. For her birthday, they also managed to pick up this amazing coat. It was quite similar to the boys' but it was pinched at the waist to be more flattering. It was a charcoal grey and matched Ivy's outfit perfectly. A knock sounded at the front door. Polly was acting a little bit off still so Ivy thought it would be better if she answered it. Finn, Isaiah and a couple of other boys were standing at the door. "Ready to go, Mrs Solomons?" Isaiah asked, his arm out, ready for her to take. "It's just Miss, thank you. I'm not married yet."

"Polly, I'm leaving now. I'm going with Finn and Isaiah." No reply. Ivy closed the door and turned back to the boys. "Ivy, you l-look..." Finn stumbled to find words. "Amazing."

"Fit." Finn and Isaiah spoke at the same time. Isaiah said the latter of course. Ivy stepped into the cold streets with the 'junior Peaky boys', as Arthur calls them. Her arms were linked with Isaiah and Finn, they said it was to keep her safe from the prying eyes of Birmingham. A light layer of snow was falling from the sky and there was a chill in the air. Luckily, Ivy had a coat this time, she thought back to that night in London. The girl shook her head, wanting to be rid of those morbid memories. Isaiah knocked his head back and Ivy noticed he had a bottle in his hand, alcohol. She reached for it, grabbing it out of his hands and taking a huge swig from the bottle. The boys cheered around her and she laughed, shoving the bottle back into Isaiah's hand. Ivy definitely felt better now. Finn started to walk away from the group, "Carry on." He told us. "Finn, where are you going?" Ivy quizzed. "To talk to Arthur." He simply responded. "Do you want me to come with you?" He shook his head at her question and walked into Arthur's head. The girl turned back to Isaiah and the boys. "He just wants to protect ye', kitten." Her eyebrow raised at the nickname but she continued to follow him down the street to The Garrison. They walked in and the atmosphere was electric. People were talking, smoking, drinking, having a good time.

"Vee!" Someone shouted from across the room. "You made it!" A strong arm was wrapped around her shoulders and the girl looked to see John wrapped around her. "Let's get you lot a drink, eh?" He shook the girl and walked over to the bar. Ivy didn't trail far from Isaiah. It was busy there and she felt safe with him. "S'alright. I've got you, Kitten." He wrapped his arm around the small of her back when John came back with some drinks. "Come sit with us, Vee." She followed John and went to sit at the table. "You look great, Ivy." Esme complimented me as she sat down with Isaiah. "Thank you," She always seemed off with the girl so she was glad that Esme was warming up. "You look amazing too." Ivy complimented her. John slung his arm around his wife, "Yeah, she does." He said as he lent in to kiss her. She spun around to look at Isaiah, feeling a little bit uncomfortable. The doors to The Garrison opened and two people walked in. "Right!" Someone shouted. Arthur was here. Finn had also come in, but quieter than Arthur had. He came and sat on the other side of Ivy. "What did you do to him?" Ivy queried, slightly worried for Arthur's sake. "Tokyo?" Isaiah asked Finn and he just nodded his head as a response. "What's Tokyo?" She looked between the boys, looking for an answer. Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, blue vial, filled with powder. He placed it on the table in front of the girl. "Cocaine?"

"Yes, kitten, and it's good stuff." Isaiah grabbed the bottle from the table and dropped it into his own pocket. Finn twitched when Isaiah called her 'kitten'. Ivy wondered why he was always so twitchy whenever they were with Isaiah. "Here, Finn-boy. Get that down ya'." John slid a glass of whiskey over to Finn and he grabbed it immediately, probably wanting to get it down before Tommo saw. Speak of the Devil. He was walking around his pub, observing everyone and everything. He came over to the small group and reached his hand out, "Finn! Gimme that," He took the glass off of him. "Keep them off the whiskey, John." He ruffled Finn's hair and Ivy giggled to herself. Tommo necked the drink and walked off to talk to somebody else. John took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it. "You want one, Vee?" He held it out to her. "No, thank you. I'm good." She pushed it away from her and back to him. "Go on! Just one puff." He lured the girl in. "Fine." She took it out of his hand and held it up to her lips. She looked at the huge roll of tobacco 'Here goes nothing.' She took a large puff of the cigar. Ivy coughed and spluttered, Finn patted her back, laughing along with the others. "Fuck me. That's horrible." 'Ooh's' emanated from around the table. "The posh girl swears." Isaiah knocked her knee under the table, messing around with the girl. Ivy pushed him back. 'I've done a lot worse.' She thought. But, she wasn't going to let that ruin her night.

Ada came in after half an hour or so, shortly followed by Polly. Ivy hugged her and went back to her previous conversation with John and the boys. She thought she would give Polly a little bit more time to cool down, Ivy didn't want to push her. Finn's hand snuck onto her knee under the table. Ivy raised her eyebrow at him, John had been sneaking him whiskey, along with the alcohol that Isaiah had brought. He had been doing the same to the young girl. Saying that they were a little bit tipsy would've been an understatement, the teens were completely drunk.

"I have an idea." Finn stood up and grabbed Ivy's hand. He pulled her out of The Garrison and onto the streets. "Finn, what're you doing?" He just laughed and pulled her further down the street. They took a couple of turns and ended up outside of another bar. "Let's live a little." He whispered in her ear. Ivy trailed behind him into the bar, her hand still firmly gripped onto his because she didn't want to get lost. The teens sat down at the bar and waited for a few minutes. "We are going to steal something." What had gotten into him? Ivy wondered. "Pick a drink." He muttered in her ear, his words slurred because of the alcohol he had already consumed. They waited for the bar man to look away, that's when Ivy's hand reached for some nice-looking rum. She swiped the bottle and grabbed for Finn's hand again. They darted out of the door. "Someone stop them!" A man screamed behind them. They howled with laughter and sprinted down the street. Ivy screamed as she stopped at the entrance of an alleyway. "Finn, come on!" They darted down the dark, concrete corridor. She could hear the man's heavy footsteps behind them. Luckily, they were small and quick so they could probably get away.

The pair took turns and twists, trying to escape the furious owner of the pub. The wind wafted their hair and slapped their faces, turning them red. It was still snowing which meant they had a little bit more cover. Finn and Ivy turned into a tiny alleyway. It was a tight squeeze but the owner ran past the teens, shouting something incoherent in his accent. "Fuck, Ivy." Finn breathed in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. Due to the small size of the alley, his face was pressed into Ivy's neck and hers was squashed into his shoulder. She giggled and bit her lip. Ivy lifted the bottle up to her lips and took a large swig. The alcohol dripped down her throat, leaving a burning trail behind it. "That's good stuff." She told Finn. He was next to take a swig. He groaned as he swallowed it. "Shit."

"There you fucking are!" The owner of the pub and them and before they knew it, they were shimmying down the tight alley to get away. Finn and Ivy came up to the canal, a boat was passing through it. "We can make it if we jump!" She sprinted up to the edge of the canal and took a huge leap. It felt like time slowed down for the girl as she landed on the boat and jumped over to the other side of the canal. "Fuck!" Finn shouted as he followed his friend's actions. She reached out to catch him. The girl's heels were killing her ankles but they had to keep going. "You're fucking crazy, Doll." The man stopped at the edge of the canal. "Get back here!" He screamed at them. "We have to go. Now." There was a pile of boxes leading up to a roof top. "There!" Ivy climbed up on the first one and looked behind to see Finn close on her tail. She got on top of the roof and had to take extra caution with her heels. They walked across the spine of the roof like a tightrope. There was a balcony that they jumped onto so they could gain extra cover from the angry barman. They crouched, hiding from the man that would probably shoot the teens if he got his hands on them. Finn cackled loudly, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Shh." Ivy warned him, quietly laughing under her own breath. She held the bottle out towards her friend and he took it from her hands. A few gulps later, they decided it would be best to head back to The Garrison, the pair had lost the owner by now. They found a safe way off of the roof, Finn helped Ivy down like a gentleman, even though he was the one who probably needed the help. They found their way into another alley way, this one was bigger than the last. "Where'd you learn to do that?" The teen questioned, referring to Ivy's ability to walk over roofs and jump over boats. "You learn a lot of special skills when you grow up in Camden Town." She simply said. After a few seconds of silence, the Shelby boy spoke up again. "Ivy, your headband." Finn pointed at her hair that had come out and was now hanging loose around her shoulders. Her hand shot up to her forehead to check that the headband was still there, it wasn't. "Shit." Ivy cursed.

Finn towered over the girl, he was much taller than Tommo but a lot less intimidating. He smiled down at Ivy, the alcohol clearly effecting his movement. He held the bottle for her to take, which she did gladly. Ivy drank a fair portion and then placed it down by her feet. She didn't know whether it was the narrowness of the alley or if it was just her, but it felt like Finn was very close to her. His breath fanned over her face and she was sure hers did to him as well. He smelled of alcohol, a sweet mix of whiskey and rum. The headband was long forgotten as Finn closed the gap between the pair, his lips getting closer to hers.

Then they met.

They met in a sweet kiss of drunkenness. Neither of them knew what they were doing and they would probably regret it in the morning, if either of them could remember. Finn's hands cupped Ivy's cold cheeks bringing her in closer. One trailed down to her leg which he swiftly pulled up so she could wrap it around his waist, his other moved to rest on the wall next to her head. He pushed the girl further into the wall of the alley, grinding on her slightly to achieve some pleasure. Goosebumps trailed up Ivy's arms and legs as they continued to kiss. Finn's hand traveled up her dress to meet her garters. He groaned when he felt them. Just as he was about to pull them down, there was a shout at the entrance of the alley way. John stood there, Ivy's headband in his hand. 'Shit.'

"What do you two think you're doing." He swaggered up to the teens. Ivy pushed Finn away from her and bent down to pick up the bottle of rum that rested in the mud at their feet. She thought he was going to scold them for stealing and almost having sex in an alley but instead he just said, "Impressive." He slapped Finn's shoulder. "Let's get you two home, eh." He took them back to the house where Finn and Ivy took a seat on the sofa. "Polly, wouldn't want to see you like this." John said, walking back into the living room but they had passed out long ago. John draped a couple of blankets over the pair and removed their shoes to try and add some comfort to their drunken sleep.

vi. MICHAEL

MASTERLIST

#finn shelby #harry kirton #michael gray #finn cole #smut #fluff #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #treat you better

13 notes · View notes