Quinneths - 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕡𝕖𝕥

𝕨𝕙𝕠      open starter ( limited to three threads, fcfs ) 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖  the pool party 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟    the midst of the evening

she batted the inflatable beach ball before it could hit her face. quinn had no time to build momentum, nor jump, but she could do just enough to stop herself becoming its target. unfortunately for the people near her— the result of her muscle memory and instinct from years of volleyball meant that one of them would be. as the sphere smacked off the back of someone’s head and they started to turn, the short blonde winced. if you were stood close enough, you’d have heard quinn mutter “shit.” under her breath.

𝕨𝕙𝕠      @ironlvngs​ 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖  the pool party 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟    late into the evening, the attendees are suitably buzzed

              she   sat   alone   in   the   men's   locker   room.   after   a   failed   attempt   to   complete   her   dare,   quinn   was   toying   with   the   idea   of   giving   up   and   going   home.   while   she   didn't   want   the   anonymous   'g'   spilling   her   secrets—   she   also   knew   if   they   did,   they'd   have   little   left   to   blackmail   her   with.   was   it   worth   the   risk?   as   tempting   as   it   was,   at   this   time   in   the   term;   absolutely   not.   it   was   still   early   enough   in   the   year   that   the   whispers   would   follow   her   into   next.   that   paired   with   greer's   disappearance   and   she   would   be   a   laughing   stock.   she   cared   too   much   about   her   reputation   for   that.

              so   she   fell   on   her   backup   plan...   as   shameful   as   it   was.   the   scheme   was   basic,   a   little   desperate   and   it   relied   on   the   base   desire   of   even   the   most   prudish   college   students   to   give   in   to   their   lust.   ogden   students   in   particular   had   a   proclivity   for   believing   they   were   god   given   gifts.   if   she   targeted   someone   she   had   some   kind   of   history   with,   someone   she   knew   would   fall   for   her   flirting,   quinn   was   sure   she   could   pull   this   off.

              just   as   the   blonde   was   about   to   get   up   from   the   bench   and   go   back   into   the   main   hall   where   the   pool,   and   most   of   the   party,   still   was,   lady   luck   dropped   a   prize   goose   into   her   lap.   she   tilted   her   head   as   the   door   swung   shut   behind   link.   the   overheads   were   off   and   the   light   was   low.   still,   she   could   make   out   their   silhouette   from   that   mop   head   they   called   hair.   "you   better   not   be   following   me,   crawford."   she   sung   into   the   space   between   them,   her   voice   honeyed   and   inviting.

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕠𝕠𝕟

          ———      ⁂      Quinn   grabbed   it;   quickly   turning   and   calling   out   its   owner's   name.   The   library   was   lively   today   and   she   got   a   few   looks.   Still,   none   of   those   eyes   belonged   to   who   she   was   looking   for.   The   sophomore   crossed   her   arms   over   her   chest   and   started   walking   to   the   double-doored   exit.   She   liked   attention.   Not   glares.   Quinn   popped   her   head   past   the   frame,   looking   left,   looking   right.   They   hadn't   gotten   far.  

                                               ❝   Hey!   You forgot this.   ❞

Florence Pugh (Tiffany & Co, 2022)

          ———      ⁂      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?❞

JESSICA SULA in PANIC

1.01

kitkallberg·:

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Of course not followed by Quinn gesturing over her shoulder. Kit didn’t know what to believe. His face crumpled in confusion. “Uhh no,” he answered. “I mean, it was a beach ball so it’s not like I’m injured. It hurt just a bit.” Whoever whacked that ball had some serious fire in their palms. He continued to rub the back of his head for a moment more before dropping his hand to his side. “But uh, hey,” he greeted. “Are you…” Having a good time? No, that wasn’t the right thing to ask. “You’re here,” he decided to say instead. A bit surprised Quinn showed up at all.

               —quinn   tittered.   "no   shit,   sherlock."   you're   here.   she'd   forgotten   how   completely   awkward   kit   could   be.   he   got   away   with   it,   too;   a   puppy   transfigured   into   a   six-foot-something   beefcake.   if   she   ever   let   herself,   quinn   would   miss   the   friendship   they   had   struck   up   when   he   first   arrived.   but   she   was   quinn   morrison   and   she    didn't   do   that.   at   least,   that's   what   she   told   herself.   "got   to   be.   what   if   your   girl   shows   up?"   she   asked   with   a   bitter   rhetoric.

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?   ❞