She had just lifted her eyes from the book in between her hands to look around, apparently just in time for someone to approach. “He what?” she frowned, trying to hold back a laugh. Then, looked at the guy apparently complaining. “I say he definitely needs to get better pickup lines, especially if he’s looking like Gandalf 2.0″ she shrugged. “But you do you, lady. Flip a coin and chose, I don’t know”
Eyes dipping towards the book in her hands midway through her response, Magda barely even let her finish by the time she was hopping down and flinging a Dr Marten clad foot out to catch the work of literature and send it sailing, Karate Kit inspired “ha-ya!” accompanying the action. “Phew, am I right? The evil is defeated. No offence or anything but you were maybe five seconds away from a fatal eye strain. If Derek Shepherd taught me anything it’s to appreciate your googlies. You can thank me later.” Sidling up in front of Dallas, Magda huffed air from her cheeks to form another bubble, index tapping against the delicate shell to pop it after a few seconds pause. “So,” came as she strung her gum from between her lips, nonchalantly toying with it as a set of aquamarine eyes studied her. “Are you a virgin?”
It was customary at any sort of Beaumont social Gathering that Dean would be loitering outside, cigarette in hand. More often than not he would stand close enough to give the illusion of being sociable without actually having to get involved in whatever conversation was happening. The sound of gum popping and the gentle nudge of his elbow caught his attention, and he let a cloud of smoke escape his lips before swivelling his head to face the group. As she recited his words back, Dean looked down at the boy he assumed to be Chad with a mixture of shock and disbelief. “…good grief, Chad.” He muttered, staring at the other with almost cartoonishly wide eyes as he tried and failed to muster any other words. His attention snapped back to Magda as she asked the question. “I- uh- no… I maybe wouldn’t.” He sputtered, face a faint shade of pink. “You do you though.”
Delighting in his mutter of sheer despair far more than she actually let on, Magda swung her legs down from their precarious set along the banister, wry smile tugging on her lips all the while. “Yeah, Chad. Good grief. Give me a break! I need a KitKat after that exotic whisper. I feel like my ear just contracted gonorrhoea.” Shooing him with a limply flapped hand, Magda hopped up to her feet and tread a few steps closer, grinding the blueberry wadge of gum between her molars as she came to stand besides him. “Ding, ding, ding! Congratulations. You just won Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. Great answer. King of intellect,” she mused, lifting up her left thumb so she could idly tug the corner of her black nail between her teeth in thought. “Want to come on an adventure with me?” slipped out as she pushed off the beam she was leaning against, already nodding towards the steps and lapsing into a walk. “It’s dangerous to let girls walk the streets alone, you know. Honestly, if you say no, you’re practically asking for me to be murdered and slung in a sewer for the rats to feast on. Answer wisely.”
Eyes red rimmed and glistening, Jesse stood with his head practically shoved into the fridge of the party he was currently attending, joint half smoked and dangling from his mouth. Reappearing with a carton of eggs in hand, he turned to the person stood beside him, a dopey but classic Jesse grin spread across his features, “I’m fuckin’ starving,” he mumbled once he’d plucked the joint out of his mouth, holding both the carton and spliff in the direction of the person he was talking to, “Want one? Both? I’m considerin’ just… eating a raw egg. You wanna try it with me? I’ll give you head, like a prize or something if you do, y’know. For being a good sport,” Realizing moments later that, just maybe, his joke came off a bit strong, Jesse burst into laughter seconds after, far from caring in his inebriated state, “Woah, just kidding! Gotta take me out to dinner first.”
“What the fuck? Do I look like Simon Pegg in Run, Boy, Run? Just absolutely slorping up a raw egg whole, not even piercing the shell with my teeth. Golp. Gone in a flash. Say hello to my little friend... Monsier Monella. Sal, to his friends,” Magda rambled on at a chemically accelerated pace, backs of her shoes adamantly knocking against the cupboard of the counter she was perched on. She felt like doing a cartwheel or constructing an entire model of the Eiffel tower to scale from sugar cubes. Whenever she was this high she always had so much energy, she could have bottled it up and sold it for a fortune on the deep, dark web. “Silence!” she barked suddenly like a rogue KGB agent, reaching out to slap an egg from his hand before she used the same one to adjust the cowboy hat on her head -- she’d stolen it from a broad shouldered stranger earlier in the night. “We vill ask zee questianz!” Ignoring the fact that the egg had splattered on the floor in casualty, Magda plucked his joint off him and sucked in a long hit, chin lifted skyward so she could let her eyes slip shut as her lungs stirred with the potent smoke. It was never clear whether she did the things she wanted or did the things she thought would incite a reaction. After all, a plum lipped girl in a short skirt letting out a prolonged sigh of content did little to keep the seedier souls hearts from racing. “Wow. I think I just came,” she piqued her volume on the last word to make a show of it, flashing a soft smile after as she handed it back. “To my senses, I mean. Chakras? Aligned. You know I’ve already pocketed an iPhone 5 and a shitty purple Android?” Lapsing into a mock sniffle like she was overwhelmed with despair, she pretended to dab at one eye, paying tribute to Naomi Campbell as she choked up over everyone’s ugliness. “People are so stupid.”
“She stood in a dress that made her look like sin, and it was fitting that her eyes drifted like smoke above her red lips. There is no Hell that is more enticing than her, drag me beneath the flames.”
me, in the toilets after seeing a quiet place, violently stomping my boots around the tiles n hollering in demonic tongues: guess_ill_die_shrug_meme.jpeg
❤ 324 ✐ VIEW ALL 6 COMMENTS
judashaywire 👀
madisonvela such a epic movie tho
sydmorriss ah practicing ur native tongue?
↳ magsdevereux @sydmorris rather i practised a different kind?
my fiancé: honey i don’t think this is a good location for a wedding…
me, staring at the abandoned waffle house that was used as a brothel in the 1890s that emits an eerie glow and once had a murder happen inside it and is located precisely 7 miles away from area 51: i think it’s perfect
“I’m sorry but when you say no to me is like saying ‘go ahead and do it’ so i wouldn’t really recommend it.”
“Wow,” Magda cooed, eyes rimmed a sullenly glamorous shade of insomniac blue as she itched at her temple with a set of chipped indigo nails. “Bit rape-y. You sound like a freak, no offence.”
“Oh, please.” Stassie said, lifting her pitch as she tried to convince the other, “If I have to carry this to my room myself I’m just going to die, I mean look at me, I’m five-two and this is so heavy. Please.”
Making a face from her place sprawled on the sorority couch, Magda gave in to a pointed sigh before flinging her fishnet clad legs up off the cushions, stark red of her calf high cowboy boots catching a few raised eyebrows as she wandered forwards. “I guess,” came with a soft huff of air and a pop of her pastel blue bubblegum, tongue forking the thin film off her lips so she could chew it once more as she took one of the boxes. “What is all this, anyway? Are you starting up a Nutty Professor lab in your closet? Man. Wild. I volunteer to be the first experiment.”
Perched up on top of a porch banister, Magda had one booted foot -- bouncing a mile a minute -- propped up too as she leaned back against a support beam, tartan pleats of her mini skirt falling just so to conceal the black cotton of her underwear. Any sudden breeze and her decency would be completely at the mercy of mother nature. “Jeez,” she uttered as a frat boy from the group of chattering students out on the deck leaned in closer, black thumbnail idly chipped at as she popped a bubble in her gum. “Hey, you,” came as she nudged gently at the elbow of a nearby loiterer, plum red lips tweaked into the kind of smile you’d expect from a siren that lured you in to eat you whole, bones and all. “Chad here apparently wants to kiss my milky thighs until I scream,” she recited with a soft laugh, ignoring the boy’s protest besides her -- clearly he wanted his sleazy come on to remain private. “Enticing, no? Spoicy. Especially from a guy that looks kind of like Gandalf’s long lost son. Think I should let him?”
hLO saunters thru a bead curtain carrying a dirty martini n a depleting will to live (joking!! or am i... thats a secret ill never tell xoxo gossip girl). i’m nai, 21 & a gmt-er living in manchester in the uk. i was actually in this group briefly before as delilah astor (nicola peltz fc) n also skye montgomery (lily collins fc) n now i? hav risen once more from the ashes. this is a brand spankin new muse so YA im excited!! hmu or plots n more abt her below the cut
( TAYLOR HILL / CIS-FEMALE / SHE/HER ). MADGALENA DEVEREUX IS A TWENTY-ONE YEAR OLD UNDERGRAD STUDYING PHOTOGRAPHY. THEY ARE KNOWN FOR BEING WITTY AND ADVENTUROUS, BUT ALSO BEING DISLOYAL AND RECKLESS. IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG BEFORE EVERYONE STARTED TO CALL THEM THE NIHILIST. ( OOC: NAI/ 21/ GMT/ SHE/HER)
okAY so i don’t have too much worked out fr her so far tbh?? i’m kind of just takin it as it comes n seein where the wind blows me
goes by mags, magda, lena, u name it. she honestly doesn’t care mch
shes fluent in both english n french bc her mum was french (her last name was devereux aka the one magda goes by n kept legally) n made it a point to try n keep her able in it as she grew up
personality wise, she’s p siren-esque in her approach to men/women/whatever she’s feelin that day. she tends to lure them in n charm them n then leave them high n dry. sex is v much just sex to her n she coasts by from one meaningless interaction to the next. she’s been known to hav a few various diff ppl fall in love w her n she’s been like oh...... this was fun but it wasn’t Like That. jst a true free spirit
she doesn’t rly like sitting still too mch n always has to be doing Something. she hates being left alone w her thoughts so ull almost never find her just chilling alone in her room or something like tht. kind of inspired by fred from palo alto in terms of her impulsive recklessness aka she’d suddenly hit the gas just to drive into a brick wall in front of them in a parking lot n laugh it off nonchalantly w little explanation after
LUVS photography. she has a proper film camera n she’s always takin candids without permission of various diff ppl
That Bich who likes heavy rock n vinyls. peyton sawyer WHOMST?!
lead singer / front of an indie rock band which cld?? make fr good plots tbh. i hc she sings kind of like sky ferreira n the lead singer in wrenn
compulsive kleptomaniac. she jst... pockets little things wherever she goes n hordes them like a strange collection of memory related relics. she also luvs burning things. ull catch her just testing how things burn on a dish in her room w a lighter on a regular basis
her mum died in a car accident when she ws younger tht is?? kind of inspired by baby driver n the way it went down. she ws in the car n her parents were arguing which was p much a constant for them. she’s estranged from her dad nw bc he’s honestly just kind of....a rly strange man. he moved to spain randomly a little after her mum died so he wldnt hav to take care of her any more n the one (1) time she went to go n see him, he was a total nightmare n threw her out all bc she didnt get him a burger so she was jst alone at 16 yrs old in a foreign country. on her 18th birthday he transferred just a literal.... penny into her account like he jst goes out of his way to b petty n strange as hell
she’s been staying w her aunt since then bt she’s kind of jst...a strange character inspired by the various odd ppl the baudelaires had to stay w in a series of unfortunate events. she has wind chimes hanging outside her house made of cut up credit cards n she’s into like... herbal remedies rather than actual medicine. a hippie-esque gal. she clearly did a LOT of drugs in the seventies n her brain is just kind of?? semi mush bc of it
BIG into drugs herself. she has a p serious coke problem n she’s always looking like...a little bit unhealthy bc of it. v sullenly pretty n rough around the edges. it once got to the point where she blew a guy in exchange fr a fix n that’s like the lowest point her addiction’s left her at which she doesn’t rly like to talk abt
some of her aesthetics/vibes r as follows: dangling your hand out of a race car to feel the wind on your fingers while you drive pushing 70, red tartan mini skirts w black flatform sole dr martens, plum red lips, flame red cowboy boots paired with soot black eyes, saying “man” every other sentence, taking polaroids and stowing them in hidden places wherever she goes so she leaves a piece of her behind, dappling her fingers over open flames and finding flecks of red paint all over her body in the unlikeliest of places.
PLOT IDEAS: exes (either ones she completely fucked over by jst not caring enough, one that ACTUALLY broke her heart in a shocking twist of events, a rly insatiably toxic relationship tht she keeps coming back to), fwbs, unrequited crushes (probably them on her bc she doesn’t necessarily do the other way often), friends tht got sick of her being so reckless, a dealer, fellow addicts tht r awful influences on each other n bring each other down, a Squad!!!!!! of jst like...complete misfits tht r all outrageously behaved n bad fr each other kind of like... the skins friendship group dynamics. honestly? anything else u fancy too. the world’s our oyster. hmu!!!
