𝓆𝙪͟𝙞͟𝙣͟𝙣.
@jerimoviches
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21+, gnc muse | they/them prns
Joined May 2025
⠀i’m almost never serious , and i’m always too serious . too deep , too shallow . too sensitive , too coldhearted . i’m like a collection of paradoxes .
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noting his tone of voice. “ oh, come on. “ they’re letting out, this ploy that they had in mind to get out of the event. they’re noting how he’s tugging on the cuffs of his jacket, another step close. “ it’s quinn. we met at the restaurant, remember? “
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how they’re not entirely too friendly to others but their family members — and close friends. but hey, the guy seemed like he needed some sort of .. albeit not really — familiar conversation. taking a deep breath before they’re letting out a soft chuckle, eyeing his outfit ;
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it’s some sort of a stale exchange ; of course, their eyes are still on the other — head tilted to the side as they’re trying to figure him out, slowly, but surely. if anything. nonetheless, quinn tries their best to be as friendly as can be, considering most things — seeing
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⠀ ⠀ https://t.co/tU1cAkEwwW ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 〔 #MVRP 〕 ⠀⠀⠀Retweet this post if you enjoy writing ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀slow burn plots .ᐟ ⠀
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at this moment, quinn feels as if they’re harmless — albeit, showing off a much more neutral image and expression on their face, merely appearing right before the other : offering nothing but a short grin. they know their manners, especially in a public setting. “ i feel like
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event in chicago — how great. nonetheless, quinn was trying their best to be on their good behavior ; although, brows furrow in as they spot a familiar face, arms immediately crossed to their chest. a short grin forming on their features, making their way towards the other.
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they’re blinking — this expressionless gaze on their face, shrugging their shoulders. “ could be worse. i’ll just get the supplies i need and i’ll be out of your way. “
he stood still, staring blankly for a moment before a shocked look crosses his face. “ fuck— shit! you okay? ”
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/ i fear i may have to log out of this account, my muse is practically gone.
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hand stuffed into their pocket as the door opens, glancing over at him. “ yeah. i need a bandage. burnt my arm on — the stove. “
shoulders sagged, he stands up and moves to the door. reluctantly opening it for the other. “ hey, something wrong? ”
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https://t.co/3mSoHh8FGE yknow what sucks abt being an oc writer?? feeling excluded from spaces or certain interaction bandwagons bc my muse isn't canon i'd love to feel like i can like ppl's posts abt headcanons between muses or the "how my muse feels about yours" but there's
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they’re sighing lightly — hand placed along the door before answering his question. “ just .. can you let me inside? it’s a personal thing. “
looking up at the door, his body was frozen in place, as a cold, deep fear filled him. “ quinn? do you need something? ”
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“ i wouldn’t .. think of it like that, maybe she’s trying to talk to you. “ shoulders shrugging, a light glance over at the other for a moment. “ are you sure? “ they’re asking, cup of tea in their possession, brows furrowing in. slightly worried.
“yeah, well that must be something she learned from my mother.” a joke. a bad one. an awkward laugh before moving on. “oh no, honey. you’re fine. here— have some tea.” she emerged with a mug, holding it out to them.
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a short sigh leaves their lips, body still leaning on the door as they’re contemplating for a moment. “ it’s - it’s quinn. can you let me in? “
looking up at the door, like a spooked deer, he didn't dare move. heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out everything else. " who is it? "
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their hand is wriggling on the door handle — brows furrowing in, shoulder placed along the door.
he's locked himself in the office. crouched down against a wall, hands in his hair, as he mumbles to himself.
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eyes rolling a bit, spying the proud smile on his lips ; soon walking towards the living room, plopping down on the couch. “ pretty sure if you were there, you would’ve rooted for me. “
he can't help the proud smile on his lips when they confirm. " course I did. knew you would have, just wanted to make sure. he should've just fuckin' took it like a man. "
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alright - well, they’re around if she needs anything.
positive!
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as they’re inside of sugar’s home, they’re taking a deep breath — finding themselves situated on the couch for a moment, then standing up. “ sounds like she’s just showing you her way of appreciation. “ a small laugh, stepping towards the kitchen. “ need some help? “
after making their way inside, sugar instantly rushed to the kitchen to make some tea— assuming quinn would just make themselves at home. “oh, she does love my company. she tells me so when she’s screaming in my face.” she quipped, calling out from her small kitchen.
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a small laugh comes out from their lips, shrugging. “ just natural, i guess. “
carmen rolls his eyes. “ since when are you so fuckin’ cocky, huh? ”
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i like my men fruity ﹠ pathetic． you wouldn't get it．
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