Ironlvngs·:

Told you there’s not much to see.

The Hamptons // Transviolet

               a   freshman   approaches   her   with   a   green   glow   stick.   quinn   politely   declines,   waving   her   hand   to   shoo   them   away;   bravado   she   would   later   come   to   regret.   she   enters   with   the   confidence   she   was   born   into.   a   steadfast   belief   she's   above   it   all—   you   know   the   type:   everyone   else   but   me.   exclusivity   from   human   frailty.   closer   to   god   than   man.   it   was   the   morrison   way   and   quinn   was   not   immune.

               at   first,   she's   presented   with   options:   a   staircase   with   a   ghoulish   figure   looming   and   a   claustrophobic   hallway   of   chains.   she   would   rather   take   on   an   opponent   she   can   see   so   she   chooses   the   stairs.   as   expected,   the   robed   figure   lunges   at   her   as   she   reaches   the   top.   she   pushes   back,   laughing.   this   wasn't   scary.   this   was   corny.   this   was   camp.   it   was   a      kkg   event   after   all.   she   should   have   known   to   lower   her   expectations.

               quinn   has   little   interest   in   the   party   laying   ahead;   the   same   as   every   year   before.      in   fact,   she's   only   making   an   appearance   because   that   was   what   was   expected   of   the   greek   letters.   for   all   the   rivalry   between   them,   they   made   sure   to   show   up   to   each   other's   occasions   as   a   point   of   cooperation.   she   was   tri   delt's   vice   president   of   recruitment,   so   personal   choice   was   outside   the   equation.   she   did   her   best   not   to   be   the   rain   on   everyone's   parade...   by   this   point   in   the   halloween   season,   in   all   honesty,   her   social   battery   was   draining   fast.

               she   moves   forward   through   the   haunted   house,   coiled   hair   bouncing   on   her   proud   shoulders.   the   sophomore   finds   herself   in   an   empty   room.   her   first   impression?   apathetic.   the   room   is   wallpapered   white   with   some   pictures   plastered   on   top.      she   gets   closer.   curiosity,   as   usual,   reaping   bitter   fruit.   

she   recognises   a   word   emblazoned   over   and   over   again   in   bold   block   letters.   

          MISSING         

the   brunette   steps   back,   first   in   shock,   then   again   in   disgust.   a   weight   drops   in   her   abdomen.   with   a   nauseous   gulp,   she   turns   and   walks   out   as   fast   as   her   tiny   frame   is   able.   blinded   by   revulsion,   quinn   opens   the   next   door   she   sees,   hoping   for   an   exit.   she   isn't   paying   attention.   the   memory   of   greer   is   suffocating   her   senses   just   enough   for   idle   complacency   to   mutate   into   foolishness.   this   next   room   is   pitch   black   and   out   from   the   shadows   comes   a   paunchy   man   dressed   as   a   clown   —   face   paint   and   all.   he   makes   a   grab   for   her.   quinn   screams.

                      by   the   time   she   runs   all   the   way   back   to   the   entrance   she's   pale   and   clammy.   she   falters   over   the   front   step,   vision   blurred,   and   vomits.   exorcist-style.

ironlvngs·:

     they really began to rack their mind through every trick that he learned throughout the years trying to figure out where she was going to go with this as she led them towards the showers. and then when she turned the tap on, explaining to him exactly how it would work. as she explained, he found himself grinning at her. “ and if you ever wonder why i’ve been so deeply attracted to you, morrison, do remember this moment. ” he says as he puts the cigarette up to his lips, offering to light hers first before going for his. “ so, why are you hiding in here ? ”  

               —she   held   the   cigarette   between   her   forefinger   and   middle   and   leaned   forward   to   the   flame,   wrapping   her   lips   around   the   filter   and   inhaling.   the   paper   and   tobacco   crackled   and   the   ember   took.   quinn's   eyes   flicked   up   to   them,   the   green   in   her   hazel   eyes   brighter   in   her   purple   ensemble.   "you're   attracted   to   anything   you   can't   have,   link..."   the   blonde   answered   after   exhaling   a   stream   of   smoke.   at   least,   that   was   her   running   theory,   if   it   were   true   to   begin   with.   "who's   hiding?"

Newest scrap jumper from some of my leftover yarns

parisadavani·:

.

“I mixed it myself,” Parisa confirmed, almost as though she could read Quinn’s mind. She didn’t trust people she didn’t know to make her drinks at an event like this. “It’s… good but maybe a bit too sweet for my tastes, I should’ve probably gone with seltzer instead of Sprite,” she reviewed, savoring the flavor of lemons and pomegranate nonetheless. “Not like pina coladas are an option here,” she muttered, wondering when non-drinkers were going to have their time to thrive at college parties. 

Snickering as Quinn talked about her cousin’s power of persuasion, Parisa shook her head. “I’m not ridiculously opposed to going in, but also not intending on it. I spent a little too long doing my hair and makeup to let it get messy, at least this early.” Curly tendrils framed Parisa’s face, with her dark tresses styled in its usual updo. “Plus, I much prefer the ocean to pools. Saltwater is sticky, but still more refreshing than chlorine. Not like we have great beaches up here anyway, but still I’m more of a resort pool girl than a… college competitive pool girl.”  Even Parisa’s family’s pool in California was saltwater - not that she swam in it much.

               "i   don't   see   the   point   in   any   of   it,"   she   admitted.   quinn   had   never   been   one   for   the   water.   "but   if   you   do   end   up   in   there,   please   scrub   hard   after   and   don't   come   crying   to   me   if   you   catch   norovirus   from   the   human   soup."   she   finished   her   drink.   parisa   was   right,   it   was   too   sweet.   "i   have   a   question   for   you   while   i   have   you   here.   it's   months   away,   of   course,   but   when   the   holidays   come   around   i'm   sure   i'm   going   to   be   invited   to   something   formal.   i   wanted   to   ask   if   you'd   consider   designing   a   dress   for   me.   paid,   of   course."

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? ❞

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. ❞   

if a guy calls you princess in a condescending manner what you do is you assert your newly appointed royal status and you have him beheaded