#wiltedthrone

I can be your china doll

if you wanna see me fall

Boy, you're so dope

your love is deadly

@wiltedthrone​ said: Nimble fingers open her coin purse. " Okay, how much money to get you to delete those pictures? "

@wiltedthrone​ said: " don't panic. it's not my blood. " ( for parrish pls 👁 )

He quit. He needed a new job. Preferably one far, far, far from Beacon Hills. Where he wasn’t standing listening to a teenager promise that the blood on them isn’t theirs. The deputy should even be in this situation. Beacon HIlls he was told Small town. Biggest issue you’ll come across is mountain lions. Shaking his head, fingers roughly cascaded over his forehead in a scratching motion. “If it’s not your blood, then who’s blood is it? Because you get I’m the one who writes up the paperwork? I’m glad you’re okay though Audrey.”

Priscilla and Kurtis both looked up from their lunch, a spoon still dangling from Priscilla’s lips as she looked Audrey over. She really wasn’t the best when it came to fashion and she had told Audrey this multiple times in the course of their friendship. Priscilla shopped exclusively at thrift stores and threw on whatever she thought matched, which sometimes didn’t work. Audrey had tried to educate her on the different shades of blue and green and Priscilla just didn’t have the heart to tell her that wolves were partially colorblind.

That being said, at least Audrey wasn’t asking her about color. “I think you look perfect, chérie! Well you always do, to me. Doesn’t she, Kurtis?”

Kurtis, on the other hand, had just been staring at Audrey with a confused look on his face. Ever since Priscilla had became friends with his old schoolmate, he had been trying to figure out how she fit into their little friend group. It was obvious that Audrey wasn’t going to leave Priscilla alone, or him either, so he was becoming used to pressense.

Questions like these, however, confused him.

“Is...Is this a trap?” He asked, causing Priscilla to slap him arm hard enough to make him wince. “What? I’m serious. Is this a trap? Like no matter what I answer...is it wrong? Cause obviously, you’re beautiful but if I say that, am I slapped? Is it wrong?”

SUNDAY   AFTERNOON   IS   WHEN   THE   CITY   SEEMS   TO   COME   TO   LIFE.   There’s   an   electric   static   in   the   air,   and   summer   has   just   begun.   What   better   way   to   kick   it   off   with   none   other   than   a   quintessential   Los   Angeles   brunch   ?   It’s   almost   like   a   rite   of   passage   in   the   city.   Anyone   who’s   anyone,   and   anyone   who’s   no   one,   is   aware   of   the   unspoken   rules   of   the   social   scene.   Audrey   is   the   last   person   I   have   to   explain   that   to,   and   maybe   that’s   where   her   eager   acceptance   of   the   invitation   comes   from.   The   Rose   daughter   is   one   of   many   on   a   mental   checklist   I   complete   as   the   days   roll.   Never   one   to   burn   bridges   and   instead   securing   them   in   case   the   occasion   arises.   It   helps   that   she   always   comes   with   a   smile   and   a   healthy   serving   of   gossip,   makes   reconnecting   a   lot   more   pleasant.   Can’t   always   be   said   for   most   of   the   families   the   Quinns   keep   close.   Rich   people   are   typically   insufferable.