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@ezradaly

it was a late night for maggie, she had a habit of never being able to go to sleep at a normal hour, and her life in the program was slowly becoming kind of boring, if she was being honest. it felt too routine, too structured, too rigid. she never did very well with rigid. so now she was standing in front of her apartment door, a little more drunk than she’d ever admit out loud. slowly, her head turned towards the door across the hall from her, where ezra lived. her droopy eyes focused on the number before she sauntered across the hall, and knocked in a dumb little pattern from when she was a kid.

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ofbrcdys:

dallas had spent his usual night in, drinking whisky, reading one of the books that the program had offered him, and listening to the lulling noises of vinyl in the background. the entrancing voice of paul enka filled the room and dallas hummed along, his voice less than worthy of praise. “put your head on my shoulder…” the rest he left as a soft murmur as he attempted to focus on the page he was reading. everything about his peaceful night was interrupted by an announcement from an all to familiar robotic voice, “a match as the hub, reservations for five pm.” he waited for more, but there was nothing else that radiated from the small, round piece of junk on the table. “you couldn’t have waited until the damn end of the chapter, coach? why do i keep this garbage near me anyways?” he questioned, throwing his book aside. he groaned into his hands, forcing himself up to turn off the music.

it took him less time to get ready then he had thought. he simply changed into a more formal undershirt and added a simple checked blazer to complete the simplistic look. he’d been on too many match dates to take time on wearing a full out suit. he looked nice - dallas always did he refused to wear anything that looked liked he didn’t put some effort into his outfit - just not so nice that he could fit into an elite club. he took the transport to the hub restaurant, barely feeling the nerves buried within him.

“coach, where exactly am i supposed to sit?” he inquired, looking around the restaurant with a curious gaze. a blunt response from coach for the table name forced dallas to look in that direction, “is that her, the brunette?” coach didn’t even answer, but dallas took that as a sign to head in her direction. “good evening, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

maggie was about halfway done with her first glass when an admittedly attractive man sauntered into the cafe. deep down, in a part of her that would never see the light of day, she sort of hoped he was her match. sure enough, he sat at the table with her, and to say the least she wasn’t disappointed. though, as he opened his mouth, the words coming out began to slowly wear down the appeal.

she raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of her wine before answering. “right.” she nodded slowly, unsure of how to feel about the man sitting across from her. in truth, she didn’t mind the bluntness. maggie had been known to be so, almost to a fault, herself. “should we skip names to keep this as impersonal as possible?” her right eyebrow ticked up again at the question. this was the eighth time she had done this. sometimes not learning names made it easier.

“what number is this for you?” she started, in an attempt to make conversation. though, if she was being honest with herself, making conversation was never her strong suit. as the food arrived, she crossed her fingers under the table and hoped and prayed that this would be somewhat bearable.

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@ofbrcdys

maggie stood outside the hub cafe, her head tilted back, eyes closed, taking deep breaths. she was on a binge marathon in her apartment with mr. worldwide, enjoying her own, nice bottle of cheap wine when her stupid coach started making a bunch of annoying noise, alerting her of her new match. she had such a nice bubble bath planned for the evening, maybe take her dog on a walk. slowly but surely, she was adjusting to a lonely, matchless life. then her coach had to go and set her up.

picking out her outfit took the most time. that and getting into the shower. she was tempted to leave in her grease & wine stained, crumb covered sweats and t shirt with her hair up in a lazy ponytail, her glasses still on, too. coach had advised against it, which made it all the more tempting. in the end, she ended up in a nice dress, with her hair in some nice, loose curls. whoever she was doing this for better be fuckin’ grateful.

so now she was here, standing outside the restaurant, trying to be somewhat excited for whoever was waiting inside for her. it wasn’t happening very easily. she pushed her hair out of her face, pulled her dress down, stood up tall and made her way in. her reserved table was still empty, which eased her nerves a little bit. when she sat down, she pulled out her coach. “who exactly am i looking for?” she asked it. the answer wasn’t very helpful. so she ordered a glass of red wine, and waited.

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lenxon:

“okay shove it before i want to throw you in the pond too,” she said glaring at the raven haired girl. lennon couldn’t help but take a step back and chuckle at her friend pulling out her own device. “oh fuck off, will you,” she aimed at her, attempting to keep a straight face. “hey asshat –– i’m clumsy, we know this but thanks for pointing it out,” she bugged. “the opposite, i keep getting paired with someone that’s… not.. who i want it to be. call me selfish, call me naive but i want what i want,” she pouted. “why can’t i get what i want? i’m frustrated,” she groaned. “i’m always frustrated. but go on a date with a rock, half of the prospects out here are the equivalent anyways. at least you can take it as a souvenir when you’re done,” she shrugged. “unmatchable? you? no.”

“maybe i should throw you in, you look awful. could use a good wash,” she joked, nudging her friend with her shoulder. maggie grinned at the girl’s response. “you point it out just fine yourself when you’re out here just walking into whoever you feel like.” she made a face at the girl in slightly mock sympathy. then, in the most arrogant, sarcastic tone she could muster, she turned her nose up, stood up tall and said, “well, everything happens for a reason, you know.” she rolled her eyes at the thought. what a load of shit. “you can’t fuck a rock, though,” she offered. “you know, some people happen to find me very appealing,” she shrugged, “if you can figure out who though, let me know.”

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arthurgtfo:

This time, Arthur couldn’t help but give a kind of disgusted reaction. “I don’t think that’s very sanitary.” He said, suddenly looking at the flask and wondering what else could be in it. “Here, take it.” He said, giving it back and just imagining its contents. “I appreciate the concern, but really I kinda just wanna be alone right now.” 

maggie rolled her eyes, “oh, don’t give me that shit. i’ve had worse things in my mouth, and i’m willing to bet you have to.” she grabbed the flask from him, taking another drink before stuffing everything back to the place it originated in. “too bad you aren’t, huh?” 

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im so SORRY i’ve had a shitty passed couple days and i’ve just been avoiding doing any replies whatsoever. i’m here now tho so im gonna get to that asap rocky!

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arthurgtfo:

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, just hoping that she wouldn’t stay long. He opened his eyes when she mentioned the drinks. He sighed before reaching out and taking one of the flasks, not really caring which one was which. He opened one and drank a whole lot, before stopping and wiping his mouth. “Yeah, thanks.” He muttered, handing back the flask and just sitting once more, but this time staring up at the sky. Then he looked at the girl with a raised eyebrow. “You keep both the tater tots and the weed in your bra?" 

she grinned a little bit at his refusal to acknowledge her presence, at first. a laugh escaped her as he grabbed a flask, and downed seemingly as much as he could. she picked up the whiskey flask again and took another drink. “hey, anytime kid. i’m the intoxicant fairy god mother, i’d like to think.” she pulled another tater tot out of her bra and ate it. “yup,” she said, her mouth full, “i also keep,” she stuck her hand in her shirt and pulled out a bag of diced up cheese, “colby jack cheese, apparently.”

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arthurgtfo:

Arthur was really just having the worst day. He felt like throwing a punch or maybe just drinking his woes away. Or even just sleeping in a bed, just anything. Finding a bench in the park, he decided to close his eyes as he took a seat to take a deep breath. He slowly felt a presence approach him, and without opening his eyes, he put up one hand to signal them to stop. “I’m having kind of a shit day, alright, so I’d appreciate if you just don’t.”

“aw grumpy boy.” maggie ignored his protest and took a seat next to him. she pulled two flasks out of her jacket and held them up to him. “you want a lil bit of tequila or whiskey? i also have weed in my bra if you vibe with that.” she shrugged before taking a swig of the whiskey flask, then clearing her throat slightly as it made her way down her throat. she promptly set the flask down and pulled a couple tater tots out of her bra before popping them in her mouth. “yep, that’ll do it.”

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me

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lenxon:

“I’ve been more interested in the back of cereal boxes than I have been by you,” she said to her round device that was placed in her palm. “Coach? You’re actually good for nothing,” she huffed and as her personalized coach started to respond she slid it in her pocket. “Ah yeah –– shove it, will ya?” Lennon took a big huff, her hand ruffling through her auburn hair. “Mother fucker, I’d like to take a rock to you somedays,” she retorted to herself, walking towards a small pond as her small frame collided with another. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t lookin’ ––– I also wasn’t speaking to myself. I’m not crazy. But actually, I take that back. I totally was and I probably am.” 

“spoken like someone who’s never owned any good cereal. i expected more from you.” maggie made her way towards the other girl, her hands stuffed in her coat pockets. with one, she pulled out her own coach, “hey coach, is lennon angry because she only eats sad girl cereal?” the device didn’t understand her question, which ruined the comedic effect of her joke in the first place. “first of all, rude. watch where you’re going, weirdo. second, you are crazy almost definitely. third, what happened? did another date dip their steak in ranch?” she shuttered at the thought. “at least you’ve had a date,” she waved the small piece of tech around, “dumb fucker hasn’t given me anything in weeks. i’m starting to think i’m unmatchable.

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uhh liv can u tell us a little abt ur character please? no i cannot. what up, i’m liv, i’m seventeen and i never fuckin learned how to develop my characters. pst livin it up.

this here is my girl margarita nacrour, aka maggie or ita. pls slide in my dms or like this post if u wanna plot! i love plotting tbh, much like myself, my characters rely on other people in order to develop. anywho a lil bit abt my bbyg:

currently a 24 year old leo, born in some small town in ontario no one’s ever heard of

comes from a poor family, with two parents who never really cared much about what she did

practically raised herself

a huge softie irl, but also kinda spacey & a lil harsh, a very weird combination of a bunch of characters from tv shows i love tbh i can’t even rly name them all including like rosa diaz, jason mendoza, april ludgate & like every soft character there is who knows she’ll develop i’ll figure it out hopefully

cries every time she watches dog videos

went to college on a bunch of different scholarships in new york, studied nursing

joined the program because her parents have a garbage fire relationship and she doesn’t trust the universe to find her something better than that

loves baking with all her heart. esp decorating she’s gotten really good at it. will make ur wedding cake for free.

has one pitbull named mr. worldwide

will fight people who play their music so loud in their car/apartment that everyone else can here it

will fight. period.

more stuff that’ll come later probably hopefully i’m really just winging it here i’m so sorry

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Emeraude Toubia photographed by Aaron Snaiderman.

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