quinneths

Latest Posts by quinneths

𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕔𝕠𝕔𝕠 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕠𝕠𝕟

          ———      ⁂      ❝ CYP2D6 inhibitors. ❞ Quinn added, getting a nod from their Biochem professor. She zoned out from the open discussion then, her eyes wandering past the faces of her classmates until they landed on who had come to mind. She began running through a checklist and felt a familiar tug of concern. Not as many as a few days ago but still more than last week.

                                  The dismissal of the class almost passed her by, forcing Quinn to pack her materials up in a rush to join the rest. With quick footwork she made up the distance. When at the front of the pack and alongside Courtney– otherwise affectionately known as Coco –she bumped shoulders with him.     ❝ Well that’s 90 minutes of my life I’ll never get back. What a snoozefest. ❞   

“Am I free? There is some thing still holding me. Or am I holding it?”

— Clarice Lispector, tr. by Stefan Tobler, from Água Viva (via feral-ballad)

          ———      ⁂      Quinn had spent the day now gone at her apartment in town. She needed to decompress. The amount of studying she was forcing herself to do wasn't healthy. She knew that, she did, and yet she carried on. Part of it was the same anxiety she had carried her whole life: that at some point, she would get complacent and fail horribly for everyone to see. She had come so close a few times. Mostly it was a distraction. If Quinn worked herself to the bone, there wouldn't be time to think about her missing cousin, the heightened public interest in her family, her tangled feelings. It had taken accidentally crashing in the library last night for her to finally take a day off. Was it a waste of a day? Absolutely. But that was what she needed. Challenging herself to a chocolate macaron recipe by Pierre Hermé, the sun had long set by the time she had 24 little iced meringues she was content enough with. 

                                     Walking back to campus, sealed tupperware hugged tightly in her arms, Quinn was wrapped in a thick woollen coat that grazed her ankles. She imagined she might cut an intimidating figure in the shadows if she wasn't the height of nothing. The sophomore hadn't noticed it was Ollie walking ahead of her until he turned around. She grinned.                        ❝ Would you like to bleed out fast and get it over with           or nice and slow so you can ponder over all your terrible life choices ? ❞

Near the dorms, Late Wednesday Night. ( open ! )

It was colder outside than Ollie had thought as he walked from the dorms to the nearby 7-11 to get a Big Gulp late at night, and back again. He’d spent more than enough time in his room, really only leaving for one of two reasons. Going to class, or visiting Monty(/replenishing his supply). But he couldn’t last all week in a dark room sitting in front of a computer screen working out this phone tracking issue, and sorting out any pre mid-term issues he was having before that time of the year came up out of no where, like it seemed to every year. It was one of the busiest times of the year for his business, but also one of the most lucrative, so he wouldn’t complain. It was nice to get some fresh air, despite the nearly freezing temperatures as he walked along the campus sidewalk back towards Waverly, chewing on the bright red straw from the large plastic cup in his hand, slowing when he started to notice foot steps behind him. “Please tell me you’re following me because you’re planning on stabbing me, that will solve so many of my problems,” he said, turning to see who it was behind him. “Please?”

montyrichler·:

.

“Oh, shit.” Steps halted, he made a move to pat down his jean pockets, although it seemed pretty likely that the Juul she was holding out to him was indeed his – how many people plastered their vapes with Tweety Bird stickers? “Thanks. Another couple hours and I would’ve been spiraling into the painful grips of nicotine withdrawal,” Monty joked with a smile, somewhat surprised that Quinn of all people was the one to return it to him. She tended to be a hater of most things fun, and because of that, he clipped right along to ask, “Are you expecting a finder’s fee? ‘Cause I was just headed over to the campus café. That one librarian got on my ass about having open drinks around the books, again.”

          ———      ⁂      At his joke, Quinn raised a brow and smile. The expression was one of amusement, rather than judgement. She had learned by now that nagging Monty was the same as shouting at paint to dry. ❝ Of course not. If you want to die from lipoid pneumonia, that's between you and your poor lungs. I'll come for a coffee though. Hold on,❞ She held up a single finger to signal a minute. ❝ Just let me get my bag. ❞ The sophomore pushed in past the library's double doors.

JESSICA SULA in PANIC

1.01

LEIGHTON MEESTER AS BLAIR WALDORF GOSSIP GIRL | S03E10, The Last Days of Disco Stick

          ———      ⁂      Quinn's panic attacks had a certain rhythm. First - the freakout, the reaction, the fight or flight. Adrenaline keeping her buoyant through stormy waters. Then - the crash. After what was a horrible experience at KKG's Haunted House, she took an uber home and nosedived into bed. While her peers partied, she overslept, which she had to admit to herself was very Quinn Morrison.

                                     She'd found herself a corner in The Commons and made a home of a grand leather armchair, an americano occupying one hand (in a reusable cup of course) and a book hinged open with the other. Her eyes were beginning to sting from reading. She looked up from the page and connected with Parker. The junior wasn't looking quite her usually pristine self. It was in the small details: slightly puffy eyes, fallen curls, no glow. Quinn smiled sympathetically.

                                                 ❝    Hungover  ?    ❞

who: open where: the commons when: tuesday, november 1st

the commons bustled with just about all of the energy one could expect after a night like halloween. that was to say, not that much. students mulled around the coffee shop, nursing hangovers and trying to finally jump start their day, now that it was past noon. and though parker had washed off all of the spare glitter and showered away all of the alcohol smell one possibly could, spiritually, she was right there with them. one knee bent towards her chest, she’d been curled into the far side of an otherwise vacant couch. red, now loose curls—the remnants of last night’s hairstyle—shielded her profile as she gazed down at a small stack of papers.

august 29th, the letters, the first day of school…

drawing and releasing a deep breath, parker rested her chin in the palm of her hand and looked up. eyes glazed over the space without much purpose until locking eyes with someone nearby. her head shook and eyes blinked, snapping out of her daze with quiet laughter. “hey,” parker called out, resting her forearms over the paper. “sorry, i’m lagging by, like… thirty seconds today.”

𝕓𝕦𝕤𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕒𝕝 𝕥𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕤𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕟𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

          ———      ⁂      ❝   I know I shouldn't say this but did Greer really have to pick this year of all of them? It's just like her to disappear right when our professors are deciding what advanced classes we get to take. Freshman would've been so much more convenient...   ❞ Quinn vented, clasping her glass of non-alcoholic rosé. She wouldn't say something so alarmingly coldhearted to anyone but Sloane— unless pushed. The pair had spent countless hours over the years privately shit talking their shared relative. It wasn't like The Golden Girl didn't deserve it. She had a part in making each of their lifes hell at times. Just as Quinn was about to talk, a waiter came over with menus. They said their thanks and she continued.

 ❝ Here I am going on about myself again. You don't care. How's film club going? ❞

ABBOTT ELEMENTARY 2.01 - Development Day

Don’t be so hard on yourself.

𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕒 𝕡𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕖  𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕠𝕠𝕟

          ———      ⁂      ❝   Ça fait longtemps dis donc, enfant sauvage.   ❞ Quinn attempted the little French that Thea had been able to teach her during their time together over summer. Her accent was terrible; a Manhattanite overaccentuating the vowels, clearly having repeatedly listened to the Google Translate bot voice. She had been to France so many times with her family. You would think someone as intelligent as Quinn would have picked it up but alas, world languages were her downfall. The Morrison came from behind and sided up beside her friend and fellow tridelt. 

             ❝   Horse riding truly is all style over substance, don't you think?   ❞

𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕦𝕤 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕕 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕨  𝕥𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

          ———      ⁂      There he was, milling around, right in her way. It seemed like everywhere Quinn looked nowadays, Nate had nestled himself in some corner or other. His tall figure haunted her peripheral vision. After years of on-again-off-again hatefucking she had made a point of avoiding him after her freshman year. She summered in the city instead of The Hamptons, hoping to stave off the dirty magnetism they'd let fester between them. She had guessed, at some point, that being on the same campus would mean she couldn't avoid him forever. She hadn't guessed it would be over some damn popcorn. Quinn reached up and tapped on his shoulder.

                      ❝   Are  you  getting  something  from  the  stand                             or  are  you  just  here  to  be  a  nuisance  ?   ❞

          ———      ⁂      This year at Ogden, Quinn had bought herself a townhouse in the local area as a birthday present. Living in dorms freshman year without somewhere to escape to had driven her half mad. A librarian had given her the idea; one of the many mornings she showed up groggy and incoherent from lack of sleep. You're rich rich. Why not buy somewhere? It hit her like a train. Veering on the sensible side, she still kept paying her dorm [ Waverly #206 ] for when she needed to be on campus. Tonight was one of those nights, with a biochem midterm stupid early in the morning.                                       She didn't know what had triggered such a petty tactic... other than the fact she merely existed. At exactly 10pm her dorm mate had decided it was the perfect time for flute practice. He just continued, getting louder and louder. Eventually, after leaving the dorm for a walk and coming back, she had enough and jumped up from her bed — grabbing the flute from his two hands and smacking it against the wall. The head joint fell to the floor with a clang. It was probably dented. He just laughed and said Bianca was right.                                      The phrase ringing through her head carried her slippered feet all the way to Linden. Quinn was FURIOUS. The sophomore didn't know if this was a Greek rivalry thing or a Pre-Med thing but whatever it was, tonight was not the night. She wrapped her knuckles furiously against Bianca's door. After she answered, Quinn dropped the rest of the flute at her feet.

                       ❝  I  need  you  to  stop  giving  your  minions  ideas  !  ❞

open / closed starter location: late night at linden housing / bianca’s dorm

the loud knocking on her door nearly made her jump out of her skin. she scrunched her eyebrows together as she hurried to finish moisturizing her face before leaving the bathroom. bianca didn’t want whoever to get the chance to pound on her door again. besides, it was late and she wasn’t expecting anyone, or was she? if she did, she forgot about their plans. bianca opened the door and plastered a smile on her face before speaking, confusion still written on her face. ❝it’s nearly midnight and you knocking on the door like you’re the police,❞ she shook her head. the pace her heart was beating would’ve given an old man a heart attack. ❝you needed something?❞

ironlvngs​:

     link stopped in his tracks at the sound of someone calling behind him — assuming it was for him since there was no one else around the entrance and exit of the library. turning around to be met by quinn, with his abandoned laptop charger in between her hands. “ thanks. not that it matters, my laptop’s… busted again. ” what else can you expect from a shitty second hand laptop from craigslist ? but it was all link can afford, and he needed one if he was ever going to pass his classes. he was in a mood, his mind only on how the fuck he was going to get a new one now. “ so it’s kind of useless. sweet of you to chase me out here, though. ” he still teases, though, with a grin. 

          ———      ⁂      Since the night of the pool party, an awkward silence had fallen upon Quinn and Link's usually busy text thread: some unspoken agreement not to talk about the events of that night. She had come onto him, all perfume and kisses that she actually enjoyed, pulled their tops off and then ran off with his. No word, no warning. Just wanting hands that suddenly fled. She hated G for making her their fool. Handing over the charger, Quinn's smile was muted.

         ❝  I have a  spare  MacBook  Pro  from  last  year's  release  if  you  want  it.  ❞

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕠𝕠𝕟

          ———      ⁂      Quinn   grabbed   it;   quickly   turning   and   calling   out   its   owner's   name.   The   library   was   lively   today   and   she   got   a   few   looks.   Still,   none   of   those   eyes   belonged   to   who   she   was   looking   for.   The   sophomore   crossed   her   arms   over   her   chest   and   started   walking   to   the   double-doored   exit.   She   liked   attention.   Not   glares.   Quinn   popped   her   head   past   the   frame,   looking   left,   looking   right.   They   hadn't   gotten   far.  

                                               ❝   Hey!   You forgot this.   ❞

isabellafm​:

Bella stopped in her tracks, sighing, rolling her eyes, the works because, oh my god — “Proud of you for your good deed, Sandra Dee, but that’s totally not mine.” She poked her head towards the pencil case in Quinn’s hand; it was a tacky orange color, completely outside of her color scheme, and god forbid she ever used mechanical pencils. Good lord. “Though, I’m not against opening it up and digging through. Might be some goodies inside, y’know?” 

          ———      ⁂      Quinn blinked at being called Sandra Dee. She'd heard it before. Her jaw clenched, wanting to react but knowing it wasn't worth it with Bella. ❝ Oh, ❞ she held back. The pencil case had been sitting by Bella in the library but must've been left before she arrived. Quinn pulled her arm in and held the item close to her chest, pulling a frown at the fellow legacy. ❝ I think not. ❞

coz that’s soooo much cooler.

THE DROPOUT (2022) ⦿ S01E01 “I’m in a Hurry”

I come from a long line of people who should not have had children but did anyway