quinn quire

historymiss  asked:

If you're still doing hydrocone midnight theatre I'd love to see some more Quinn quire !

I am not super-current on Quentin right now and I don’t know what the eff is going on with Idie and her weird outdoors living room but I had A BRAINSTORM SO

Title: Poor Little Rich Hero Girl Club
Rating: PG
Summary: Quinn is kidnapped by Wasp and Hawkeye. Sort of. 

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Quinn Quire is a former terrorist (self-proclaimed), a current punk both self and others-proclaimed (ask Captain America about her attitude — actually don’t, he’d say she’s nice just to spite her), a future vessel of the Phoenix (she will never make the fashion mistakes Jean Grey did), and a billionaire heiress who just turned eighteen (Tony Stark showed up to her birthday costume party dressed as Charles Xavier, which was in such poor taste that she actually likes the guy now).  

She has no idea what she wants to do with her life or what she should do with her life and she broke up with Idie and being Quinn Quire 24/7 is kind of eating her alive.

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Quinn Quire cosplay done! With provisional shorts & t-shirt, I’m going to make a shirt appropriate to convention/even for maximum accuracy and as for shorts… it’s january in England, black shorts are in short (hah!) supply. Pretty proud, though- I cut the wig myself! I would like a real mohawk but alas I’d also like a JOB. 

Once & Future (for mageflower)

It’s not a great idea for a date, but the fact of the matter is, Quinn likes to play video games and Idie likes to watch. Usually, Quinn’s choose less violent ones: Minecraft, Viva Pinata, Lego and the like- because the first few times she plays a round of Black Ops with Idie she could feel the other girl tensing up at the violence, a mental pinch at the back of her brain that fills her with guilt. Much easier to let the screen fill with bright colours and watch the smile on Idie’s face as she loses herself.

Today, though, Quinn’s a one-woman angel of death for blocky pink pigs. She needs to kill things.

“Freaking future assholes…” she mutters, hammering the controller hard as the screen oinks sadly.

“Future you was pretty.” Idie says, absently, leaning on Quinn’s shoulder. She was, in a way. All angles and pink hair and piercings, eschewing the Jean Grey style for what looked like biker leathers and lots of flames. Quinn bites her lip.

“Future me’s a sellout. And she didn’t mention you.”

“We’re together.” Quinn envies Idie’s certainty. “Or if we’re not, it’s planned. Don’t worry.”

“How can I be me and not mention you?”

Onscreen, there’s a rain of pink porkchops. Quinn doesn’t feel any better, but Idie cups her chin, gently, and turns it for a kiss.

“Quinn, we’re living on borrowed time anyway.” she says softly, barely audible over the sound of Quinn’s own breathing. “All the time I have with you is a gift. Don’t waste it worrying about the future. The future always ends badly for us.”

“Optimistic.” Quinn blurts (she can’t help herself), her glasses crooked. Idie smiles. Since the Hellfire Club, she’s smiled a lot. She’s beautiful every time.

“I’m happy with what I’ve got now.”

ramblingredrose  asked:

Wanna do another Quinn Quire drabble?

It is, Quinn figures, typical of the X-Men that they want to hold a prom while the worlds ending. She’s got to admire their style, if not their sense of timing. Maybe Kitty needs the distraction of arranging a gym full of tacky pink and silver balloons while outside world war three rages, but who knows? All she knows is that Idie’s beautiful, in a silver dress and flowers in her hair, and the sight of her makes Quinn’s breath catch in her throat.

At first she thinks that dancing with her is a joke. One of the Cuckoos put her up to it. It’s not funny, but she takes it anyway, because being the world’s only lesbian omega level telepath isn’t quite as much of a joke as being the world’s only single lesbian omega level telepath, and when she’s dancing with Idie she can forget Sophie’s eyes and Sophie’s face and God, Idie smells good-

“Not that I don’t appreciate the change of heart.” Her voice comes out strangled, all borrowed confidence gone, “But what prompted this sudden enlightenment, Idie?”

If Quinn’s done this, however subconsciously, she’ll go straight to the roof and throw herself off.

“It’s the end of the world, Quinn.” Idie’s solemn, her touch cool on Quinn’s exposed arms, and so close that her voice and thoughts are intermingled, unity of purpouse that’s intoxicating. “We’re all going to hell.”

The kiss, when it comes, is unexpected, and electric, and wrong in all the ways Quinn has ever wanted.

“Might as well enjoy the ride.”