i’m so sleepy I need to get fucked I mean I need to get fucked I MEAN I need to get tucked in
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Show #23: 5 Point Sanctuary, Roanoke, VA
I’m still so smitten. I’m still so deeply endeared.
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Sdv farmer oc ramble ehehe
Tw addiction mention wooo
So for Quinn I took the basic farmer setup and twisted it a little
Instead of working joja corporate, they were an assistant manager at a joja store who eventually hit insane burnout
They’d already struggled with weed and alcohol before moving anyway, so clearly something needed to change— ✨cue grandpas letter they forgot they had✨
Grandpa is also a sensitive topic for Quinn in general too since he was Quinn’s only way away from their parents as a kid, so losing him fairly young kinda stings. Quinn’s a high school graduate but never really bothered going to college. (ADHD + severe depression, they knew that would just wind up being a waste of money tbh)
Non farm related hobbies include playing bass and long boarding :]
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im actively fading away due to my coursework but . whos the most likely to have a labubu (genuine) and a labubu (knockoff) i have to know. mollify my soul with this. actually also tell me what kind of phone/bag charms/stickers/accessories they would have (if at all)
both quinn and sylvia think labubus are cute but wouldnt buy it for themselves. if gifted though and actually to their tastes, quinn will hang it from their broom and sylvia would just hang it somewhere in the shop. not on their person. also theyre really fucking huge? did you know this? theyre bigger than my hand
quinn is selective in tastes for decoration (but also? just random bullshit junk?) only mild color coordination (purples) and nothing really gaudy/flashy/ornate. theyre the type to set a wallpaper and just have it forever until theyre like Wait i like this I want it as my new (case/wallpaper)
sylvia loves to coordinate she got different cases with specific charms and accessories for any occasion. her default is a clear glitter case with a sticker and some grip on the sides. phone charm is a lucky charm (bell thats lost its ball tied with faded red string) and a little animal (maybe a cat. or a bear)
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Transactional tea party
@forgottenxmuses ’s Quinn an @azugrotto ’s Azul
finally Azul could get the more in depth detail on ramchacle an its lay out sense Lilith was foolish…i mean genrious enough to invite him to her vip tea parties.
he’ll get a good lay out of everything ramshackle has to offer an think of a way to have Lilith lend it to him maybe on certain days. it was a plan in motion to be sure.
“Azul!” Lilith runs over grabs his hand “this way!” she leads the way to one of the rooms on the second floor. it would seem that this room is the one Lilith chose to be the tea party room aside from her actual room judging by all the decor.
“have a seat next to sebek!”
Azul was confused until he saw the plush that she was motioning to
Azul couldn’t help but let out a small laugh seeing the green plush an think ‘a little to cheerful to be sebek’
as he sits at the table adorned with sweet an such he did admire the display “did Trey help you do this?”
Lilith shook her head “he does sometimes but my friend thats usually busy but hes not today!” she rang a little bell that was on the table
“yes miss Lilith” Azul almost spat out ink the person just appeared right behind him like some sort of ghost. but he reconized that voice.
“Quinn!?”
“yes Master Azul?” why was Quinn playing the roll of a butler for this kid??
“you can bring out the tea now Quinn my guest is here!”
“very well it will be out shortly” an he disappeared just as fast
he’s never seen him this focused before he works hard at the lounge sure but his expression is normally along the lines of a permeant death stare. Lilith i guess has that effect on people he should have already known that given there interactions. granted her being a kid has never stopped Azul from getting money from her perhaps the others are just weak willed!
“have you tried the cookies!” Lilith was munching on them already
Azul tried them an they were…..amazing Quinn can bake he can cook? he always has him as a server. he’ll have to see if he can convince him to be a cook at the lounge!
Quinn came back with a rather unique tea set “did you get this just to drink tea with me?” a considerable waste of money if that’s the case
“yes but i also got it for you!”
“what?”
“i saw it at Sam’s shop an it reminded me of you so i got for you to have after the tea party”
“what do you want in return”
“what do you mean?”
“i will not accept a gift without gifting something-”
“you came to my tea party thats your gift to me hehe”
This child is far more cleaver than he had given her credit for still he intends to pay this debt!
Azul’s tea set
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havent been able to draw recently (double whammy of sick + practicums and exams) BUUUUT just know i always got something going on in my head with these two. they should kiss methinks
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Zeke Matheson y Quinn Vanderbilt… y una oficina vacía con seguro
Hoy el Ministerio no solo olió a pergamino, café rancio y estrés, hoy olió a historia vieja.
Porque se vio a Ezekiel Matheson cruzándose con la recién llegada a Londres Quinn Vanderbilt en pleno Ministerio y no fue el típico buenas tardes con sonrisa de protocolo que se lanza por cortesía, fue de esos encuentros que se sienten como una puerta que se abre sola, una mirada que reconoce, una pausa demasiado precisa, una conversación que empieza con pocas palabras… pero con demasiada carga.
Quinn Vanderbilt, por cierto, no camina como alguien que acaba de llegar y Zeke… bueno, Zeke no es de los que se quedan atrapados en conversaciones incómodas, no si no quiere, por eso fue tan interesante ver cómo, al principio, parecían intercambiar algo rápido hasta que la cosa escaló con una velocidad que no pertenece a dos desconocidos, no hubo gritos (qué lástima), pero sí hubo señales claras, ese tipo de gestos que solo ocurren cuando la confianza o el hartazgo ya existe desde antes.
Y entonces pasó lo mejor: Quinn lo agarró y lo arrastró a una oficina vacía.
Sí, lo llevó como quien reclama una conversación que no está dispuesta a tener frente a público… o como quien sabe perfectamente que el público es el peor enemigo cuando tienes algo real que decir.
La puerta cerró y el pasillo se quedó con lo único que el Ministerio sabe hacer cuando se queda sin escena, especular, inventar y correr el rumor en cadena.
¿Qué pasó ahí dentro? No lo sé… Aún.
Pero sí sé lo que se vio antes de que esa puerta se tragara la historia: no hablaban como extraños, hablaban como gente que se conoce desde siempre… o como gente que se conoce lo suficiente como para odiarse con precisión.
Y ustedes ya saben lo que pasa cuando dos personas tienen un pasado y una oficina vacía a su disposición, nada bueno, nada simple… y nada que el Ministerio quiera que se sepa.
Juzguen ustedes mismos, yo solo digo: si esa puerta pudiera hablar, hoy el Profeta se quedaría corto.
— Gossip Witch 🖋️✨
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We always talk about Pinterest being “quinnterest” but honestly there’s a lot of Quinn girlies here too… Quinnblr? Tumblinn? Idk doesn’t have quite the same ring
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Hopefully someone gifs it but Jack Quinn scoring a goal and sliding across the ice on his ass until he’s gently stopped by McLeod was my personal highlight of the night.
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I paid for another month of Quinn simply to listen to Ember & Ice once a week and skip to the parts where Hudson is whimpering.
I don’t regret a thing.
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His chest is warm, the curly hairs there soft under their cheek. Quinn draws a slow breath in, cherishing and nearly recoiling from the smell of him. His hand is loosely tangled in their hair, the happy trail dipping below his navel catching their attention again and again as they think.
This is the fourth time in a row that they haven’t done anything. Just slept. His snores are light, almost like he is hesitant to doze.
He’s never asleep more than two hours. Jolts awake, without warning, sending Quinn flinching and then hurrying to relax so they don’t wake him further. Oscar’s breaths are getting choppy this very moment, his fingers twitching, the blanket shifting down by his feet.
Quinn lifts a gnarled hand to his stomach. Lays it gently at the soft skin there and rubs in a slow circle. It’s okay, the gesture says. You’re safe. I’m here.
A tinny trill pierces the quiet of the room. Quinn shoves themself closer to Oscar, hiding against him, eyes wide in the dark.
[[MORE]]His cell phone. Oscar is reaching for the nightstand before he’s got his eyes open, clearing his throat and then rumbling, “Yes?”
The only light in the room is the glow of the screen against his cheek. Tactically, Quinn extricates themself from him a little, no longer petting him or hugging for safety. He doesn’t like when they try to manipulate him with gentle closeness, when he’s dealing with work things.
“No. Yes – no, sir. I didn’t… no, you’re right.” He listens a moment longer, fingers tightening a fraction in Quinn’s hair. They can barely hear the words on the other end of the line, but they recognize the timbre of Bauer’s disgusting voice.
“Yes, sir. To your… your phone, sure. Thank you. And I–”
The line is cut off. The screen goes dark. Oscar holds still for a handful of seconds before setting his phone down.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn breathes, sounding as unobtrusive and helpful as they can. “Do you have to go in?”
His nails scrape gently across their scalp, soothing – but he usually doesn’t bother to soothe them unless they’ve been hurt, or they’re about to be. “I forgot to sign you out.”
The ex-spy stops breathing. They can’t help the tremors that start up, their hands creeping to hide between their stomach and his hip.
There is a clipboard in Mr. Bauer’s office. A healer or a mindfucker, if they’re taken off-site, has to be signed out in-person. So whoever’s taking them can see Bauer face-to-face, explain why they need the prisoner moved, be held accountable if they aren’t returned the next morning.
“But… he knows I’m here, and you’ve never forgotten before, so… so you can fix it tomorrow?”
His chest deflates with a wry sigh. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
If they focus on their breathing, it can stay even and calm. “He thinks we might be too close. So he’ll have you hurt me, to keep you in check. And he wants something sent to his phone.”
His arms hook around them and haul upward. Quinn slides easily enough to come up chest-to-chest with the fed, whimpering in stress and relief when he presses a slow, tender kiss to their cheek. As he pulls back, they chase it, nuzzling between his jaw and the pillow.
“Don’t get all cute now, it won’t change anything.”
“It’s not an act,” Quinn argues, adrenaline setting their traitorous arms to trembling. “I know you’ll do it, no matter what. I just want to be close. Can I – can I still be next to you, after? I won’t ask for healing, I won’t make noises, I–”
“Shh, shh, shh.” Oscar bundles them close, arms winding around their back and pulling their head to his shoulder. And they thought they were fine, that they could be mature about this, but Quinn chokes on a sob and stifles the ensuing tears against his collarbone. “It’ll be bad. And I can’t bring you home for a while, now. But it’s not your punishment. Understand?”
Not their punishment. Quinn snuggles closer and nods miserably against his neck. He’s the one who’s being punished. He’d rather be sleeping – he deserves to rest – to be held, to have his handful of hours in control without a handsy boss breathing down his neck. But Oscar has it just as bad as Quinn does, they think somberly – worse, even, maybe. At least Quinn gets to pity themself as the prisoner.
“I can do it myself,” Quinn offers, sounding pathetic even to their own ears. “You can rest, I – I can break a finger or two. Hit my face on the doorframe, or…”
An uncomfortable silence grows, settling heavily over the both of them. Oscar has broken Quinn Mae.
“I think it’s better if I do it myself.”
“Well –” Their breaths pick up, more rapid-fire and choppy, as he reaches down for their hand and gets it into a secure grip. “Or, you could, Oscar you could just bring me to him. If he wants, if he just wants me. So you’re not the one…”
The fed squeezes their crooked fingers until their babbling is stifled into ragged gasps. “Do you really want to spend the night at Bauer’s house? You might never leave. You might not see the morning.”
It was a ridiculous suggestion. Bauer’s toys are disposable, and when they do live, they end up being something subhuman. Quinn swallows nervously. “No. I just – you shouldn’t have to.”
“Do you need to bite on the pillow?”
With a shiver, they shake their head, shimmying to get closer still and bury their face against his shoulder.
meet oscar | quinn shares their grief | quinn returns from a mission | quinn confides in oscar | major attacks quinn | quinn calls oscar | quinn attacked, stabbed | oscar finds quinn, and so do the feds | joseph begins the interrogation | oscar chatting with coworkers | “I can’t f-feel… feel them” | humiliation tactics | oscar offers comfort (cw: ref’d noncon, dubcon) | unveiling | breaking on the floor | deal making | sleepover
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I finally wrote a new fic! We’re going into the future with this one…
https://archiveofourown.org/works/80881276/chapters/212481876
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many emotions about quinn and the fact that their final card is “take it or leave it” . i would have a more coherent thought abt it but just know im a little emo thinking how they do their best to get u to leave them alone (as in personal/social wise) bc they dont want to feel the pain of neglect and abandonment Again (heightened through the years by their love for boxer and the shelter animals and how they are treated=seeing themself in them) but in the end they really do want someone to just love them as they are. aughhhuiuhh
