ironlvngs·:
instead of denying, he shrugs at her — he’s never denied the attraction he’s had to her before. to her face, at least… in front of greer ? well, he had to keep up appearances, no ? plus, the ongoing illusion of what’s going on between greer and link ?? would be shattered, if he publicly went for her cousin. “ it’s human nature, isn’t it ? why are we constantly breaking the rules otherwise ? besides that, though, you hold your head up high. that’s attractive. ” he responds, leaning back against the wall after exhaling his smoke into the running water. “ well, you’re in this locker room alone.. in the middle of the party. planning a costume change or hiding ? can’t be anything else. ”
she smiled coyly. "i was waiting for someone interesting to show up, and they did, but i'm appalled by your lack of imagination." quinn stubbed her half-smoked cigarette out on the white tile; it hissed against the moisture as it died. before she could think herself out of it, quinn nimbly swung herself over his lap so that she was straddled on top. the skin of her thighs met his jeans and she hoped she had picked the right moment to make a move. as her hands weaved lightly behind link's neck, she looked into his eyes and thought of all the late nights he left her on read. all the contemptible craving, despite her better judgement. "don't you know how much fun a woman can have while everyone thinks she's alone?"
mari-zuko·:
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Someone else may have winced at the sound of the beach ball smacking into someone’s head, but Mari just glanced over, apathetically watching the ensuing reactions. She sipped from her drink, just barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the over-dramatics - it was a beach ball, after all - her eyes returning to the person who had hit it at the muttered curse word. Quinn, of course. Mari was somewhat surprised to see her there, the relationship between Quinn and Greer….not great, to those who were aware, at least. Which, since Mari had been, definitely affected her own relationship with Quinn. The sorority rivalry only added to the bitter air between them. “Nice aim,” Mari said, shaking her hair back from her face a little bit. “They probably deserved it.”
quinn quickly turned away, brushing down her purple shirt in an attempt to obfuscate responsibility. her eyes flicked up. of course, it had to be mari. she would have clearly seen quinn's little social faux pas. her head cocked to the side. "i'm not captain of the championship-winning volleyball team for nothing," she couldn't resist tempting their usual competitiveness. "but thanks. i guess you have an eye for some things at least."
Catherynne M. Valente, The Bread We Eat in Dreams; “Mouse Koan”
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?"
——— ⁂ ❝ 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? ❞
isabellafm:
Bella stopped in her tracks, sighing, rolling her eyes, the works because, oh my god — “Proud of you for your good deed, Sandra Dee, but that’s totally not mine.” She poked her head towards the pencil case in Quinn’s hand; it was a tacky orange color, completely outside of her color scheme, and god forbid she ever used mechanical pencils. Good lord. “Though, I’m not against opening it up and digging through. Might be some goodies inside, y’know?”
——— ⁂ Quinn blinked at being called Sandra Dee. She'd heard it before. Her jaw clenched, wanting to react but knowing it wasn't worth it with Bella. ❝ Oh, ❞ she held back. The pencil case had been sitting by Bella in the library but must've been left before she arrived. Quinn pulled her arm in and held the item close to her chest, pulling a frown at the fellow legacy. ❝ I think not. ❞