kingquire

[kingquire]

roryxsummers​:

[txt - Q-Ball:] it’s kinda hard to miss tbh

[txt - Q-Ball:] idk who’s been lying to you

[txt - Q-Ball:]  are you taking me to a caged fight? you trying to get me back into the game again?

[txt - Rory:] girlfriend is a model, i trust her take way more than yours

[txt - Rory:] like i’d waste my night watching sweaty people in a cage. gross.

---

The car he’d sent for Rory would eventually bring him to a private dock. Situated at the end was a large boat, lit up against the backdrop of the dark sky. Music played loudly and people were already milling around the deck with drinks. Quentin came striding toward the car holding what appeared to be a zipped bag from some dry cleaner, which he shoved through the window as soon as he reached the door. 

“Put that on and come up. We’re taking off in five minutes.” 

[kingquire]

[kingquire]

tlkntc​:

Julian knew how blind he’d been before. He knew how wordlessly he wanted to follow the X-Men’s ideals so badly. He wanted to be a leader, he wanted a team, he wanted the recognition and the power and the friends to back him him up and be there for him. He wanted so much more than the hand he’d been dealt all because he shacked up with the X-Men. As much as he still wanted to try - maybe this time would be different? - Quentin was right. “No.. no, you’re right.” He hated saying it, but it was true. “Since I lost these puppies,” Julian lifted what was left of his arms, “I’ve been seeing more and more of the bullshit.” His gut twisted. All he knew was from the X-Men, though.

“I don’t think it should even be open,” Julian commented and looked passed the open barrier and into the neighboring streets. He could see humans pass by and peer in, as if their eyes were opened for the first time. It made his skin crawl and he felt even more like a zoo attraction than before. “Their minds can change so quickly.”

Quentin couldn’t have kept the look of surprise off his face even if he’d wanted to. His eyes widened behind his glasses and he actually took a step back like he’d been shocked. “I’m going to need you to say that again. Slowly. Let me savor it. I’m what, now?” But he was only going to gloat a little bit, which for him was quite a leap. “Well, glad somebody else decided to open their eyes.” And yet there he was, too, and had done more than one stupid ass mission with them. He’d even agreed to be on X-Force, albeit it on a very temporary basis. Now that NOVA was gone, it was hard to see a reason he should bother revisiting it. 

If he’d wanted to deal with Scott’s sanctimonious speech or pissing Magneto off, he’d have closed the gate himself. “It wouldn’t be the X-Men if they didn’t fuck up the same way a thousand times.” 

[kingquire]

THE PANIC IN NEEDLE PARK (1971) dir. Jerry Schatzberg

[kingquire]

rorycarstairs​:

[txt - Q-Ball:] yes and?? still a bottom

[txt - Q-Ball:] wow, you really thought of everything

[txt - Q-Ball:]  your taste is questionable at best, but you spend money so i guess it’s fine

[txt - Rory:] you don’t know my life

[txt - Rory:] my taste is fucking impeccable. 

[txt - Rory:] there’s a tab running in the car, pregame before you get here so you don’t bore me to death. 

[kingquire]

West Coast Avengers #9 (2019)

written by Kelly Thompson art by Gang Hyuk Lim & Triona Farrell

[kingquire]

Evan Mock for Highsnobiety.

Shirt by Louis Vuitton. Suit, shirt, necklace, and earring by Alexander McQueen, Coat by AMI, Shoes by Raf Simons x Dr Martens, Bracelet: Evan's own.

[kingquire]

rorycarstairs​:

[txt - Q-Ball:] SILENCE BOTTOM!

[txt - Q-Ball:] leave me be, he’s my guy so he’s perfect

[txt - Q-Ball:]  in that case you might want to take me shopping first

[txt - Rory:] i have a girlfriend, energizer bunny

[txt - Rory:] no. i already bought something. 

[txt - Rory:] don’t know if you’ll like it but i do so everybody wins. 

[kingquire]

rorycarstairs​:

[txt - Q-Ball:] shut up

[txt - Q-Ball:] definitely not your twink ass,  but my boyfriend jeb guthrie

[txt - Q-Ball:] fine baldy i’m coming, you’re lucky i like you

[txt - Q-Ball:] always with the mysteries (* ￣︿￣)

[txt - Q-Ball:] (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

[txt - Rory:] there is nothing daddy about that twink and you know it

[txt - Rory:] a surprise worth waiting for. 

[txt - Rory:] i hope you don’t look like a bum. there’s a dress code. 

[kingquire]

tlkntc​:

To say Julian expected Quentin Pink-Pony-Princess Quire to waltz his self over and apologize would be the lie of the century. It wasn’t in the cards for an apology,, especially not from him, but it was genuine - that much Julian could tell. No, it didn’t make his heart swell up three sizes that day, but he held a greater respect for him. He’d always admired the talent that came out of Quentin, even if he did envy him on some level. 

The expression that Quentin held certainly held a suspicion that there was no sincerity to the apology dished out, but the fact that he even bothered said otherwise. While it would have been prime real-estate to draw out the apology some, maybe make it a little more embarrassing for him, Julian knew he’d be disappointed with himself in the long run. There was really no point for it.

“No problem. Just.. looking out for a teammate.”

… Gross.

“Yeah, well...” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, an absurdly expensive garment that could not have been more different than the t-shirt he wore beneath it, “all it made me do was remember how fucking dumb teams are in the first place. If you let somebody else make the calls then guess who pays for it when they screw up?” And oh, someone had screwed up. “I’m guessing you still don’t agree.” Julian had always been up the X-Men’s ass, trying to wear the uniform.

He shook his head and looked back toward the gate. It was standing open, maybe for the first time he’d seen, no doubt in response to NOVA’s absence and the end of the SRP. “That won’t last.” 

[kingquire]

rorycarstairs​:

[txt - Q-Ball:] i ain’t trynna impress fucking body!!!

[txt - Q-Ball:] besides there’s only one man I call daddy....WAIT NO THAT CAME OUT WRONG

[txt - Q-Ball:] alright what we doing?

[txt - Rory:] literally could not believe that any less

[txt - Rory:] ew

[txt - Rory:] but who though

[txt - Rory:] find out when you get there.

[kingquire]

Part of his draw to MJ had immediately been that she didn’t seem to give a damn who he was or what he could do. It wasn’t that she was unaware of it. She couldn’t be. Quentin made sure everyone knew, as a rule. Still, she hadn’t wanted him for that, and aside from the instance during the riots where she’d asked to hold the psychic shotgun (a moment that had felt both surreal, uncomfortable, and reckless even by Quentin Quire standards) she rarely interacted with or asked about his abilities. It had never felt like dismissal, which he couldn’t have stood for, but just that it was not the most important thing at play. He’d never had that vibe with or from anyone else.

It did mean that some of the things he did tended to remain in a more private sphere. MJ wasn’t some kind of hero herself. She was human, a regular civilian, and certain parts of their lives just didn’t naturally intersect. He wasn’t used to her asking, but he knew he wasn’t exactly being subtle about something being ‘off’ either. Still, he took a long drink from the bottle and then a second one before he even considered answering. He wanted something stronger.

“I was the one protecting the bridge,” he eventually said. “It was a stupid plan. I should have known-“ he gave a bitter laugh and gestured with the bottle at nothing in particular. “I should have known that the people who act like they’ve got everything under control don’t know anything. Nobody even looked for a bomb.”

kingquire​:

Failure and inadequacy were the most difficult things for Quentin to even begin to know how to deal with. He wrapped so much of himself up in pride over what he was capable of that falling short of it in any way left him with the intolerable, consuming feeling of stupidity. Typically, that was when he left. He blamed any and everything around him, except for himself, and removed himself from the situation entirely. He’d have done it back on the bridge, too, if he hadn’t had more of a reason than usual not to. The words and excuses had popped into his head immediately. There was a laundry list of people whose fault it was, and how stupid the whole thing had been, and that he had better things to do with his time than be there - so on, so on. But for once, he hadn’t given into that. He’d stayed.

Staying meant dealing with what had happened. It wasn’t as if anyone was pointing some kind of finger at him, but it didn’t really matter. Quentin wasn’t even really some big believer in the preservation of life, as he’d killed before and often thought that some people were just better off dead for a whole host of reasons, but that also didn’t really matter. Not right then. He’d signed up to protect that bridge and the people on it and he’d absolutely failed to do it, even if he’d minimized the damage. Twenty seven people were dead, and maybe all twenty seven of them were his fault, because he’d been too slow. He’d hosted the fucking Phoenix Force before, had a shard of it preserved in his mind, and he’d still been too slow and too dumb.

As he walked back into the condo, he just felt like a fraud. It ate through him like acid. The bravado and confidence that usually radiated from him had been sucked away. When he sat down next to MJ outside, his shoulders were hunched. “Hey,” he offered, reaching for the bottle. “You okay?” He wasn’t a helper, really, or a person often concerned with someone else’s feelings, but despite what had happened afterward he hadn’t forgotten how he’d found MJ when Joker’s video started to play. 

The way Quentin carried himself was noticeably different from the norm, but MJ didn’t fully understand why. She knew bits and pieces of what happened on the bridge, the order of events, but she didn’t know how Quentin held himself responsible. The day still felt like a blur to her. She had the vague recollection of the explosion at the bridge, but only of Quentin being present and managing to save people. It was something she registered as a success. Looking at him now, it was obvious that he wasn’t thinking about it the same way - or maybe something else happened that she didn’t know about yet. 

The question was one she batted away with an offhanded, “I’m fine.” So the Joker showed up and she had a breakdown. It might as well be another Tuesday. There was no shame in it, but MJ still hated that he had any power over her at all. Her experiences in Star City were dominated by run-ins with him. This time hadn’t been personal, she’d just happened to be in the vicinity, but that hadn’t changed the severity of her reaction. It bothered her that she’d given him the ability to affect her to that degree. It was easier to turn the subject around on him instead.

“What’s wrong?” She asked outright, allowing Quentin to take the bottle, and tried to keep her tone measured. Her own glass was already getting low, but she didn’t make a grab for the bottle. Not yet. There was something going on and she wanted to know what it was. MJ knew him too well, she knew when even the smallest habit was off, and she wasn’t going to let something like that slide. Quentin already had trouble opening up to her in an emotional way. She’d also promised to help him. It wasn’t helpful if she didn’t push from time to time, was it? Maybe conversations like this were exactly the ones they should be having, instead of avoiding. 

[kingquire]

@rorycarstairs

[txt - Rory:] if you’re not too busy trying to impress daddy cyclops then get out of the district for a night

[txt - Rory:] i’m sending a car.

[kingquire]

@kidcable

In the couple of days following the ban being lifted and all the rest, Quentin had spent most of it contending with himself, which was not something he enjoyed doing. The least amount of time spent analyzing his own feelings about literally anything at all was ideal, yet he’d been stuck with them. Aggravatingly, guilt was at the top of the list - an almost completely foreign concept to him. 

He’d been poking around District X, killing time, trying to find something to amuse himself. Theoretically, there was barely any reason for the place to keep existing. The ban was no longer in place, NOVA had been abolished, and if they were to believe what they were told then that meant the world was more welcoming. Of course, that was always a load of crap. 

Not far from the school, Quentin leaned against the wall of one of the nearby buildings. He’d been telekinetically flinging rocks and other stray pieces of things against the brick for five minutes already as his mind wandered. As he heard footsteps, he continued on with exactly what he was doing. “If you’re about to tell me I’m loitering, save your breath.” 

[kingquire]

[kingquire]

@tlkntc

Once all the dust and confetti had settled, Quentin was left with something that he very, very rarely felt. It was a foreign thing that sat heavy in his chest and he absolutely loathed it from the second it settled there. Guilt. He felt guilty for those people dying, even though it hadn’t been his job to check the stupid bridge for a bomb in the first place. He couldn’t help but think for about the millionth time in his life that that was what he got for letting other people give the orders and actually following them. That was the result.

There was a second thing, too, that was also a novel. It meant a trek to District X and searching out Julian Keller. Once he’d found him, his skin was practically itching with the desire to leave without following through on what he was there to do. The expression on his face was the same that someone might have worn when they’d accidentally crossed paths with lingering skunk smell. 

“...I wanted to say thanks.” 

The worst. 

[kingquire]

Kid Omega Starter Call

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