Quinneths - 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕡𝕖𝕥

bvwie·:

— 𝙊𝙋𝙀𝙉 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙍

WHERE right outside of the linden dorms 

     “ shh, please, be quiet — ” he desperately whispers into his backpack, which was now being carried at the very front of him, with the bag facing wherever he was walking. but it was as if bowie was just talking to a helpless baby animal, the kitten hidden in his backpack only meowed louder back in response. maybe this wasn’t his brightest idea. he stops in his tracks, when he realizes that he was about to walk into someone else. “ shit, sorry — ” and just as he began to apologize, the kitten meowed from the half open bag once again. he looked straight at the person in front of him. “ — don’t mind that, that’s just… my alarm. going off. i like to wake up to meows. ” he says confidently, as though that wasn’t the stupidest strain of words to leave his lips. “ on a very separate, hypothetical note… is it a Big Ogden Crime if i try to sneak a pet into the dorms ? i’m asking for my friend. ” at this point, he’d given up, a grin already making its way onto his lips. 

               quinn   swivelled,   ready   to   apologise   in   return,   when   she   registered   that   it   was   bowie.   she   was   just   about   to   ask   how   his   day   was   going   when   a   noise   escaped   his   bag.   was   that...   a   meow?   she   peered   at   the   backpack.   "alarm,   huh?"   quinn   humoured   him.   "totally   hypothetically   —   kinda.   definitely   a   health   violation.   possibly   a   suspension.   that   wouldn't   be   something   you   were   thinking   of   doing,   would   it?"

Florence Pugh (Tiffany & Co, 2022)

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."

          ———      ⁂      Quinn had spent the day now gone at her apartment in town. She needed to decompress. The amount of studying she was forcing herself to do wasn't healthy. She knew that, she did, and yet she carried on. Part of it was the same anxiety she had carried her whole life: that at some point, she would get complacent and fail horribly for everyone to see. She had come so close a few times. Mostly it was a distraction. If Quinn worked herself to the bone, there wouldn't be time to think about her missing cousin, the heightened public interest in her family, her tangled feelings. It had taken accidentally crashing in the library last night for her to finally take a day off. Was it a waste of a day? Absolutely. But that was what she needed. Challenging herself to a chocolate macaron recipe by Pierre Hermé, the sun had long set by the time she had 24 little iced meringues she was content enough with. 

                                     Walking back to campus, sealed tupperware hugged tightly in her arms, Quinn was wrapped in a thick woollen coat that grazed her ankles. She imagined she might cut an intimidating figure in the shadows if she wasn't the height of nothing. The sophomore hadn't noticed it was Ollie walking ahead of her until he turned around. She grinned.                        ❝ Would you like to bleed out fast and get it over with           or nice and slow so you can ponder over all your terrible life choices ? ❞

Near the dorms, Late Wednesday Night. ( open ! )

It was colder outside than Ollie had thought as he walked from the dorms to the nearby 7-11 to get a Big Gulp late at night, and back again. He’d spent more than enough time in his room, really only leaving for one of two reasons. Going to class, or visiting Monty(/replenishing his supply). But he couldn’t last all week in a dark room sitting in front of a computer screen working out this phone tracking issue, and sorting out any pre mid-term issues he was having before that time of the year came up out of no where, like it seemed to every year. It was one of the busiest times of the year for his business, but also one of the most lucrative, so he wouldn’t complain. It was nice to get some fresh air, despite the nearly freezing temperatures as he walked along the campus sidewalk back towards Waverly, chewing on the bright red straw from the large plastic cup in his hand, slowing when he started to notice foot steps behind him. “Please tell me you’re following me because you’re planning on stabbing me, that will solve so many of my problems,” he said, turning to see who it was behind him. “Please?”

@defavorise

Sharp Objects (2018)

Florence Pugh promoting ‘Black Widow’ in Paris on July 6, 2021

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?"

god (self-diagnosed)

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.