Told You There’s Not Much To See.

aceofportsmouth·:

He laid his head on the pool edge, looking up at Quinn with a soft smile. “I’m a tad jealous. I don’t have any cousins.” Booker shared. “My brother and sisters are great, but it’d be nice to have some outside of my immediate family, you know?” Sharing helped with finding common ground. Booker thought of himself as an open book, if that book had sentences with whited-out sections. “Greer seemed like a party girl. Do you think she would be proud of this event? Or would you like to talk about something else?” Booker added, blinking innocently. “I think we have some classes together. If you’d like to discuss classes, who doesn’t love talking about medicine, right?”

               her   eyes   narrowed   conspicuously   as   he   reeled   off   question   after   question.   she   didn't   even   know   this   guy's   name   and   here   he   was,   prepped   for   an   interview.   quinn   didn't   know   if   it   was   recent   events   with   greer,   being   forced   to   be   at   this   stupid   party   or   her   morrison   upbringing   but   it   put   her   back   up.   what   was   his   deal?   she   tried   to   turn   the   conversation   around.   "do   we?   what's   your   major?"

aceofportsmouth·:

Booker recognized the loathing in her eyes. The prickly ones are always the most powerful. While not the queen herself, a Morrison still holds a certain amount of sway. He smiled, choosing to ignore her bad manners. Booker raised his hands in defence. “It was merely a suggestion. I thought a dip might make things more fun.” Or remove that frown went unsaid. Quinn being off by herself was an odd sight at a party as big as this one. Booker never missed an opportunity to schmooze and something told him this would be more difficult than normal.  “Not the social type, I see. More of small gathering type?” He questioned.

            one   eyebrow   quirked   up.   "more   of   a   party-when-appropriate   type.   my   cousin's   missing.   for   all   we   know,   in   danger."   quinn   pulled   her   sandalled   foot   out   of   the   way   as   a   small   wave   rippled   through   the   pool   towards   them.   "it   leaves   a   bad   taste   in   the   mouth   —   no?"   she   stared   at   his   eyes   as   if   daring   him   to   disagree.

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."

ironlvngs·:

      at her response, he holds his hand up to his heart, acting out as though he was pulling a dagger out of his chest, with a grin painted on his lips. he could tell that quinn never trusted him — she was a smart girl, and it didn’t surprise him that she chose not to trust him. but the suspicion grew when greer disappeared, and it got him beginning to wonder if she thought he had anything to do with that. 

    he reaches out his pack of cigarettes, gesturing for her to take one. “ be my guest. i’m curious to see what trick that is — all of mine are limited to dorm room tricks, i’m afraid. ”

               "i   doubt   that."   she   added   while   walking   over,   taking   a   cigarette   from   the   pack   offered.   quinn   gestured   for   link   to   follow   her   and   began   leading   them   away   from   the   main   set   of   lockers   and   around   the   corner   to   a   fully   tiled   shower   area.   there   were   some   cubicles   adjacent   to   the   wall,   for   those   who   craved   privacy,   and   for   those   who   didn't;   a   typical   offering   of   an   open   rectangle   of   densely   packed   riser   rails.   she   twisted   their   dials   one   by   one,   being   careful   not   to   get   splashed,   and   turned   back   to   link   with   a   cheeky   smile   before   sitting   in   the   middle   of   the   short   curb   that   acted   as   a   dam   for   the   run-off.   "blow   your   smoke   towards   the   running   water.   it   dissipates   it   before   it   can   reach   the   alarm   out   there   and   stops   the   smell   from   clinging."

It makes your heart race. It turns the world upside-down. But if you’re not careful, if you don’t keep your eyes on something still, you can lose your balance, you know?

PRACTICAL MAGIC (1998) dir. Griffin Dunne

Newest scrap jumper from some of my leftover yarns

leakywright·:

. 

it was obvious leaky was being a nuisance. he should just call it a day and run a lap or two to relieve himself of this nervous energy. but instead he just plastered on a smile at quinn’s request. “are you forreal? cause i can do that. easy. you just gotta come out and support me alright? maybe bring a sign, chant my name, that’s the only way we can guarantee a win.” he teased, leaning back with a nod. “cool, cool, i’ll stop fidgeting…now.” glancing at his watch he timed it was the clock hit 0 and sat back. but within a few moments his leg was bouncing, his fingers tapping against his knee and his teeth chewing at his bottom lip as he tried his hardest to keep as still and as quiet as possible. 

“i…this is harder than i thought.” he leaned over and whispered to her after about a minute. 

               "i'll   do   it   all."   she   agreed   and   with   his   confirmation,   went   back   to   her   work.   or   at   least   she   tried.   it   wasn't   long   before   he   was   making   noise   again   —   her   pen   hadn't   even   touched   the   paper   yet.   quinn   put   it   down   and   nestled   her   head   into   her   hands.   she   closed   her   eyes   and   took   some   deep   breaths.   was   he   annoying?   yes.   was   her   mood   his   fault?   no.   she   was   tired   and   emotional   well   before   he   turned   up.   she   came   up   for   air   just   as   he   leaned   over.   "yeah."   she   agreed   and   sat   back.   "i'm   quinn,   by   the   way.   you   are?"