Jun 15
"angels....suck??"
" ... "
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"angels....suck??"
" ... "
maddy dares him to be spicy to her.
its 1am consider this homies devil hour || @depictedmorada
"Is this some sort of kink ? You looooove it when you're being talked down to ? Is that it ?"
"I'd be wasting my time even bothering to talk to you. Perhaps go to your mutt William, since he's a fellow supe fucker. Maybe he'll even spit on your face and degrade you because that's what you deserve. You're nothing to Vought. Not one of us, not anymore at least. You chose your path to belong with those beneath you."
@depictedmorada
𖥸 ─ I’ve survived countless Christmas without presents, my dad bringing in a tree every year so my mom would toss it on the sidewalk the next day. I survived Thanksgivings without a meal. I survived birthdays without a father and later without a mother. I can survive Beck being gone. I can survive RIP Beck staring at me with her smile on the back of her one and only best seller. She made it – thanks to me. She must be smiling from Heaven knowing I did this for her. I couldn’t help her any more in the end – she was too sick, too messed up in the head... But I tried. And I made her a final gift where she gets as much attention as she’s always desired. I'm a good fucking guy.
The mailman barges in, drops the mail on the desk. Doesn’t even look at me once and leaves. “Fuck you too, asshole –”, I grunt, fishing for anything good in the pack of commercials of burgers and couches and discounted vacuums – and I find a postcard. With a raised brow I read the back and it’s not just a postcard, it’s a wedding invitation. Blythe and Ethan are tying the knot. Ugh.
As I’m reading the pearly handwriting, bells ring in another customer and I lose all interest in the postcard... because all I see is legs...
legs making for the fantasy section and okay, alright, I’ll bite, you got me chasing, (Gently, Joseph), so I do, with care, slowly, inconspicuous. And who are you? I pick up a stack and move closer. Closer. I can’t see you well and I wonder what I’ll find, like a piece of chocolate or a surprise gift waiting to be unwrapped.
I make into your aisle, setting two of the books on the shelf, give you a glance – and stop. Freeze. Blink. Maybe I should toss myself on the ground and roll to extinguish that fire in me, but I can’t do that or you’d think I just lost my shit. I stare for a moment as though stunned, shaking my head, then offer a tentative smile. “Maddy?” I haven’t seen you in weeks. Months! You didn’t hang out with Beck’s girls as much, and if memory serves right, RIP Peach was no fan of you – but then she didn’t care for anyone but Beckalicious. “Sorry for the weird entrance: I thought I recognized you –”, I lie through my teeth, “– but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t wanna be a creeper. Not sure I succeeded... But um, h-how’ve you been?”
𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔰𝔬 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔣𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔞 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩 IMPORTANT CONNECTIONS LAB | MADDY && JEN
THEMATIC STUDIES OF friends to lovers, cut from the same cloth, seeing eye to eye, she's mean i'm meaner, you're bigger than the whole sky, female rage, found family, && more.
😍 first kiss por favor 😘
@depictedmorada || x
Bill knew that Maddy could tell every time he looked at her. He knew there was nothing subtle about it, especially when they were alone, but he couldn't help it. She had always been captivating with those big brown doe eyes that hid depths he was sure no one had reached yet. A beguiling smile on perfect lips that were as quick with a biting remark as they were with a kind one. The brunette was often the only thing on his mind.
That night as she pressed close to his side while walking home, he figured it was finally time to do something about it.
"Maddy," he began, slowing to a stop and gently turned her towards him by her wrist. Without hesitating, Bill leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, intent on holding on for as long as she wanted to. Or if she decided to break away, that would be okay too. At least then she would know for sure.
HE'S BEEN HERE FOR OVER two decades now. It's not something he'd ever imagined himself doing for a living ; not that he doesn't have respect for educators & what they provide to the knowledge-seekers of the world ; he had just never expected that the gutter rat Thomas Shelby, born second-eldest on a river boat in Birmingham to a destitute family whose matriarch was too ill with depression to even brush her hair some days, & whose patriarch was a drunken compulsive gambler. To be accepted to any college, let alone an Ivy League, hadn't even been a pipe dream for Tommy. Yet here he is, almost twenty years later, with a tenured position at one of the best schools in the entire world, from which he'd also gotten his PhD.
This had not stopped his brothers from sewing razor blades into the seams of their clothes, & he would be no brother at all were he to let them fight alone, so he'd quickly became known not for his frankly absurd wealth of knowledge or his ability to lecture a class for hours at a time with no material prepared beforehand, but for smoking in class, concealing his gun beneath his custom Valentino suits, & for having never passed a single student with an 'A' in his entire career as a college professor.
The effect that this kind of reputation would have had on any other academic is not to be seen in Thomas Shelby. In fact, it seems to do him some good, take off much of the pressure that often comes with standing before a crowd of twenty-somethings who think they will be the one to warm Tommy's icy heart, that they are so very different from everyone else on earth that surely Professor Shelby will fall to his knees in tears at the end of the semester and humbly award them an A+.
It's that notion that still brings a sort of smirk to his lips as he makes his way down the hall & into his classroom for the first day of the semester, passing by several students who are so awestruck at the appearance of a smile on his face that they immediately pull out their cell phones & begin to text their friends all about it. Tommy's smile widens at the knowledge that their friends will not believe them. Once he had entered academia, he wondered every single day what other profession could ever possibly satisfy his drive for control and cruelty better than higher education.
When he finally enters the room ( four & a half minutes late ) with a perfectly-shined leather briefcase & strong black coffee in hand, he wastes no time in setting both of them down on his desk, & pulling a cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket to light one. On the desk at the front of the room there is already a heavy ash tray that lays in waiting for his presence on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Then he takes a pair of rounded, horn-rimmed glasses from an expensive case in his briefcase & deftly puts them on. Then he produces a thin stack of papers, also from the briefcase, tapping the edges on the desk to organize them before setting them down & clicking the briefcase closed, setting it neatly beneath the desk.
The entire class watches silently as he, ten minutes into class time, begins to prepare to take attendance.
Finally, after what seems to be an amount of their time that has been deliberately wasted, Dr. Shelby rounds his desk to lean against it & face his new students. He does not look at them.
"If you skip my class, you will not pass. If you skip homework assignments, you will not pass. If you do not take notes during lectures, you will not pass," he pauses and sets aside the stack of documents, which is now clearly just a stack of blank printer paper with nothing printed on it. "I emailed everyone a copy of the syllabus yesterday & can reasonably assume that not a single one of you has even bothered to sign into your student account yet. So tomorrow, we will review it. Today, we will-"
Dr. Shelby stops suddenly, bright blue eyes having fallen upon a young woman in the front row of his class, dressed in something black, tight, & much to Tommy's chagrin, absolutely impossible to ignore ; not because she is so beautiful that he can hardly take his eyes off of her like some romance novel, but because he can ascertain with reasonable accuracy that she has dressed this way & placed herself in the front row for the sole purpose of attracting his attention.
Female students with the same intentions are a dime a dozen in Dr. Shelby's classes. To say he's used to it would be a vast understatement. One of them had tried to follow him home, once, and had immediately run off upon learning of his Romani heritage. The memory makes the corners of his lips twitch, & he clears his throat to avoid breaking into a sardonic grin.
He cocks his head at her, reaching up to remove his glasses & fold them neatly, fitting them into the front pocket of his Navy blue three-piece Georgio Armani suit.
"Today, we will hear from you, Ms... ? "
plotted starter for @depictedmorada !!
Kiiiiinngggggg. Slaaaaayyy. 💜🫶🏼👑
@depictedmorada
- purple balances the radical stimulation of red and the tranquility of blue. It represents royalty, signifies the mystic, and revitalizes creativity and symbolizes...freedom to MADELEINE MARIE PEREZ.
Madeleine is well loved & supported by Isabel aka Betty - she / her, 30+ years young. This blog is heavily headcanon based & not spoiler free.
* Featuring verses in: The Boys, Gilmore Girls, Scream Franchise, SUPERNATURAL, True Blood, etc. Let's plot!!
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