Quinneths - 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕡𝕖𝕥

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? ❞

Quinn’s apartment 🌺

© Kate Sears, x

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."

Told you there’s not much to see.

kitkallberg·:

-

Bonk! The impact of whatever that was knocked Kit’s head forward, the sudden movement uncomfortable on his neck. “Ow…” From the sound of the thump, he was guessing what assaulted him was one of those beach balls people were throwing around. His hand sought the place where it struck, fingers rubbing at the base of his skull. Who the heck? He turned around. A look of surprise bloomed on his features when he saw who the culprit was. Or at least strongly might have been. “Quinn, was that you?” Even under the influence of something, Kit knew to be doubtful. Quinn wasn’t exactly the type after all.

               she   blinked   incredulously   in   response   to   kit's   query   and   then,   for   dramatic   effect,   turned   to   look   behind   herself   while   laying   her   palm   over   her   sternum.   "who   —   me?"   the   blonde   continued,   "of   course   not."   being   the   ever-confident   liar   she   was,   quinn   took   the   hand   from   her   chest   and   used   it   to   point   behind   her   shoulder.   "i'm   sure   it   came   from   over   there.   are   you   injured?"

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?   ❞

          ———      ⁂      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?❞

artwork by @holly-warbs

[ID: Digital art that has been broken up into four panels. It is of a person wearing a long blue coat and blue pants with a green backpack, with long black hair and a pale face. They are reaching out to a white, translucent figure next to them. The background gives a vague impression of a field, and blue and purple night sky. White text has been added that reads, “Is it haunting? If I’m the one leaving open a crack in the window.” END ID]

“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)