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#I love Quinn’s fashion
poisonousquinzel · 2 months
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"Now for a nice, quiet evenin' with my ecowarrior girlfrien' and our illegal exotic pets."
Harley Quinn (2021 - ) #38 Preview
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annarexcouture · 3 months
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lynxpixies · 2 years
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pretty when i cry
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What a girl loves the most is when her two white boy crushes show up at the same fashion event and they both look awful™️
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That’s really not it
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A photoshoot I had with reira on a cold winterey night teehee (reira is so talented with fashion and makeup omg!!!!)
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sunshineddie · 2 years
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Stranger Things men + Jimmy Fallon Edition
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ryan-waddell11 · 2 years
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I’M NOT DOING WELL
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wolves-in-the-world · 2 years
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[edit: this is accidentally a net zero information post my apologies, except that the colour symbolism referenced below is still incredibly cool and possibly still fits]
the 'bad thing on the left, good thing on the right' symbolism is such an ingrained thing in the western cultural consciousness that it's done without really thinking about it, to the point where I cannot remember a quinn-and-companion artwork that doesn't do that (with quinn as the sinister one, obviously), and yet
in the last dam job, except when they're sitting around the table planning with the team (when they meet in kyiv, when they encounter and leave dubenich, when they shake hands and walk away at the end), it's always quinn on the right and eliot on the left.
and that's interesting. because eliot is grappling with a big messy ethical quandry (do I kill this guy so my friend & leader doesn't have to, do I fall back on old awful habits so at least it's me doing it) basically the entire time. we see eliot in his don't-mess-with-me-I'm-eliot-spencer hitter getup and he never changes out of that red shirt*, he runs right at someone firing a gun at him and tells him the gun is what makes it fair-
(*it has been pointed out to me that it's a different red shirt, which is very cool on the colour symbolism front)
he is, the entire time, closer to the darker side of the eliot we know very well by the end of season four. and quinn is… quinn we met as a fast-hitting curly-haired bastard and are becoming familiar with again as someone eliot trusted enough to hire, a decent ally at least when he's paid to be. he banters. he threatens. he does the work.
he offers to kill dubenich for eliot with none of the angst eliot's dealing with, apparently none of the weight on his soul, and we all collectively went hm, amoral bastard, with less in the way of shadows in his heart than eliot has.
maybe it's a stretch to say this symbolism is partly why but I am delighted it ties in well.
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Richard Quinn Spring 2023 Ready-to-Wear : Part II
Photos by Daniele Oberrauch / Gorunway.com
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suguruscurse · 2 years
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Little matching Lock- & Homescreen⸜(๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝*
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luwiyzkillah · 2 years
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instagram
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httpsgrace · 4 months
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I need a bf‼️
slide into my dms if
You’re over 5’9 (i’m 5’10)
like ptv, sws, fob, dgd, (Metal or emo music so we can connect :3)
have long hair (metal head or emo boy) (this isn’t a choice i will manipulate u into growing it)
like cats
isn’t weird
can Handle my constant yapping abt music and movies
THANK YOU!!
(for legal reasons this is a joke)
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luminescentkelpie · 2 years
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people say they love cringe fail women yet fail to recognize the og cringe fail woman Harley Quinn
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wineauntie · 2 months
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I’m in the hospital for a little bit and I’ve just been binging your Hughes!sister imagines! Any way you can do one of her in the hospital and they just don’t know what’s going on? I swear I’ve been poked and prodded for the last couple days wayyyy too much for someone that doesn’t like needles. If not no worries, just wanted you to know I love your writing
WE’VE GOT YOU — hughes brothers x sister!reader
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summary: where one trip to the grocery store ends with you in a hospital bed and three worried brothers
note: once again, I lowkey deviated from this ask, but I low-key live for angsty-fluff <3 I’m so sorry to hear you were/are in hospital and I hope you’re alright lovely!
warnings: use of y/n & y/n/n, medical stuff like insertion of needles, blood, IV’s and hospitals in general, fem!reader, fainting. (I think that’s all really)
word count: 2.6k
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Summer at the lake house was one of your favourite times of the year. It was one of the few times you could spend your days doing nothing besides spending time with your brothers. Your parents were busy for the next three weeks, leaving you completely in the care of your brothers as the four of you flocked to the lake house for some "rest and relaxation".
The four of you were two days into being there when Quinn decided that today was the perfect day to do the weekly, well-needed grocery shop, and he generously volunteered you to help him out.
With nothing better to do, you went willingly.
You'd been feeling off all morning, a sharp pain in your stomach had wracked around your body but in true tested fashion, you popped an Advil and tried to carry on with your day.
"Alright," Quinn huffed, knocking you out of your stupor as the two of you began walking down the grocery store's first aisle. You hummed and pushed the cart forward all whilst he pulled out a list of food to get. "Divide and conquer?"
"I can grab the cereals and snacks, you get the veg and meat?" You suggested, tilting your head to look at your brother who nodded with pursed lips.
"Deal," he confirmed, shaking your outstretched hand. Your warm hand met his cool one as he grimaced and pulled away. "Ugh...Your hand is all clammy."
"Shut up," you rolled your eyes and withdrew your hand. You felt a pang of pain bounce through you as you tightened your existing grip on the shopping cart. "I'll meet you at the registers."
Quinn nodded and the two of you separated, your head tilted to the side as you scanned the shelves for everything you needed. You'd given the shopping list to Quinn, having memorised everything you needed to pick up. As you reached to grab a box of cereal you let out a hiss, the box dropping as your hand shot to clutch your side.
Stars spattered across your vision as you stumbled to grip the cart. The pain in your side was now vicious, biting at your every nerve as your heart sped up. Glancing around, you searched for any sign of your older brother. Your face was fixed in a grimace as you slowly pushed the cart towards where you'd last seen Quinn run off to.
The pain, like daggers, cut through you, aiming for debilitation, you reckoned. The agony grew as you shuffled towards the fruit and veg section, spotting Quinn's blue backward hat from above the wooden shelving. 
"Quinn!" Your desperate call was more of a croak than a yell but, despite the distance and quietness of your voice, he somehow heard you.
His head whipped around, his eyes meeting yours as his eyebrows scrunched together. By this stage, you were leaving heavily against the cart with your face scrunched in pain as black spots danced their way along the borders of your vision. Quinn placed down what he was holding instantly, his eyes steady on your form as you began to tremble.
He knew something was wrong— call it that big brother instinct (or just having proper eyes...but nevertheless).
His eyes remained glued onto your form as you struggled to keep yourself upright. When he finally reached your side, you felt your knees buckle, his arms slipping under yours to keep you upright.
"Fuck," Quinn swore, steadying you as much as he could. His worried eyes spanned across your weak form as you let hot tears roll down the cushioning of your cheeks. "y/n/n, what's happening? What's wrong?"
"Hurts, Q," you let out, your voice shaky and small. If Quinn closed his eyes it was almost as if you were a child again with bruised and cut-up knees looking for him to put a bandaid on it. You put a hand against your side as the pain pulsed and thrummed like a hoard of drummers.
"Okay," Quinn took a deep breath in whilst he shifted in his place. Now wasn't the time for floundering, he needed to take charge. He needed to know what to do–even if he had no idea whatsoever. "I'm going to take you to the hospital, alright? You're going to be okay."
You nodded as he helped guide you out of the shop, ignoring any questioning glances you received as you abandoned the shopping cart and store. He helped you into the passenger seat of the car, reclining it for you before he buckled you in. You drew your legs slowly up onto the chair, curling into yourself as more tears spilt over.
"Just hold tight," Quinn muttered, brushing his hand over your hair before he closed your door and hurried towards his side to start up the car. He gulped as he scanned your small form once more before he drove out of the car park.
The drive felt like a blur, your tears flowing as you tried to focus on anything but the rattling pain. Quinn's voice spoke clearly to you, constantly reassuring you. His familiar voice was one you clung to for any semblance of comfort.
"Hey, Luke, is Jack with you?" Quinn's stern voice spoke and it was only then that you realised he'd called your other brothers, letting it connect to the car's speakers. "Put the phone on loudspeaker..." Quinn looked towards you briefly before readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.
"Y/N isn't doing so well," he continued, "She collapsed on me in the store, so I'm taking her to the hospital."
"Wait, what?"
"What do you mean hospital?"
"Quinn, what's wrong with her?"
Jack and Luke's voices overlapped in a flurry of questions as Quinn sighed and tried to pick through them.
"I think it's her side, she was holding it tightly but I'm not taking any risks," he firmly stated. "We're five minutes out from A&E, I'll keep you posted."
"Keep us posted?!" Jack scoffed, "We'll be there in thirty minutes, maybe twenty-five if I speed a little."
"No speeding!" You groaned, your voice cracking as you pried your eyes open. "Please be careful."
"Alright, y/n/n," Luke piped up, "I'll make sure he's safe...well as safe as he can be, you know how bad he can be at driving."
"I'm not bad," you could imagine Jack scowling as a soft thump resounded. If you knew anything about your brothers you knew Jack had just whacked Luke straight across the head. "We'll see you soon!"
Quinn hummed and hung up as he pulled off of the main road, into the lead up to the hospital. He still looked at you every few seconds, his eyebrows permanently furrowed deep as you carefully squirmed in the leather seats of his car.
"Just hold tight, y/n/n," he muttered, changing gears, "it's going to be alright."
That's the last thing you comprehended before your vision completely darkened.
-
The incessant beeping coming from what you presumed to be a machine was the first thing you heard when you'd woken up. You moved your head groggily, your eyesight blurred as you blinked heavily.
The room was washed in pure you,wokelights above blinding as you lifted your hand to rub at your eyes. You felt a sharp scratch and upon glancing towards the feeling, you eventually noticed the IV jutting out of your paled skin.
You were suddenly wide awake.
You heard the beeping of the machine speed up as you attempted to sit up in the uncomfortable bed you seemed to be lying in. Patting your hands down your body, you discovered a thin hospital gown and a section of bandages across the middle of your stomach.
The door to your left swung open as a woman in scrubs and a white jacket entered with her clipboard in hand. She had a warm smile across her face when she noticed you were awake.
"Hello, I'm Sara, your doctor," the woman's soothing voice explained, as you looked at her in pure bewilderment. "You may feel disoriented for a while, but you’re in one of our recovery rooms at the moment."
"Recovery from what?" Your voice felt chalky if that was even possible. Sara rushed to grab you a glass of water waiting on a table beside you, handing it over to you for you to sip.
"You were brought in around..." Sara paused and checked your chart before looking back at you. "Eight hours ago with severe abdominal pain. You were unconscious, your brother carried you. We ran some tests and discovered that your appendix ruptured."
"My appendix?" You breathed out, your head was swirling as your shaky hands placed the plastic cup of water down on the table.
"Mhm," Sara hummed, stepping closer to the bed with her clipboard. "We took you in for surgery to remove it and now I'm here just to make sure you're awake and alright, before we bring you up to your room!"
"Oh...where is my brother?" You asked quietly, your hands folding cautiously in ront of you.
"The one who brought you in is waiting upstairs, and two other young gentlemen joined him shortly after you arrived."
"Also brothers," you supplied, a small smile weaving its way across your face. You winced as you shuffled beneath the thin sheets of the bed. "When can I see them?"
"As soon as I check you over and grab some bloods!" Sara beamed, waving her clipboard and pen. You leaned back against the pillows and allowed the woman to assess you as you stared at the ceiling.
She pulled out a needle and vial, along with a blue rubber strap. You watched apprehensively as Sara expertly prepared the equipment, her movements precise and practised. Despite your best efforts to remain calm, the sight of the needle made your stomach churn with unease.
"Alright, just a little pinch," Sara reassured you, flashing a reassuring smile as she tied the rubber strap around your arm. With steady hands, she swabbed the crook of your elbow with alcohol before gently inserting the needle into your vein.
You braced yourself for the anticipated sting, but to your surprise, it was only a brief discomfort before the sensation faded. You let out a sigh of relief, grateful that the ordeal was over before you knew it.
Sara expertly filled the vial with your blood, her movements smooth and efficient. Once she had collected an adequate sample, she removed the needle and applied a cotton ball to the small puncture wound.
"All done," she announced cheerfully, placing the vial of blood into a small tray and labelling it with your information. "You did great."
"Thanks...You make it look so easy." You offered her a weak smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you now that the ordeal was over.
"It comes with the territory." She chuckled softly, gathering up her supplies and tucking them back into her bag. "Now, I'll get these bloods to the lab and then we can get you settled into your room."
With a final wave, Sara left the room, leaving you alone once again. You let out a long exhale, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over you now that the adrenaline had faded.
-
You took a deep breath in as Sara pressed a button to open the doors to your supposed room. As it opened, you spotted all three of your brothers jump to their feet, their eyes fixed on your incoming bed.
Your eyes met Quinn's, as he seemed to let out a breath and let his shoulders drop. The tension in the room eased as his gaze softened, relief washing over his features like a gentle wave. You could sense the worry etched in his eyes, the weight of concern lifting as he saw you safe and awake.
"Look who finally decided to join the land of the living!" Jack exclaimed with a grin, nudging Luke who was standing next to him.
"Yeah, we were starting to think you'd taken up permanent residence in the land of the appendix-less," Luke chimed in, trying to lighten the mood despite the worry etched on his face in the form of little lines between his brows.
Quinn, ever the one to keep his emotions close to the chest, simply nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Glad to see you're okay," he said softly, his eyes reflecting relief as he ruffled your hair. You couldn't help but chuckle weakly at their attempts at humour, grateful for their presence despite the circumstances.
"Thanks...and Quinn, I guess I owe you one for bringing me here," you quipped, wincing slightly as you shifted in the bed.
"His biceps needed a workout anyways" Luke teased, earning a slight glare from Quinn.
Sara stepped back to give you some space with your brothers, her smile warm and reassuring. "I'll leave you all to catch up. Just remember to take it easy. You're still recovering," she admonished gently before slipping out of the room, leaving the four of you alone.
As you settled back against the pillows, surrounded by the familiar faces of your brothers, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you. Despite the pain and uncertainty, you knew you were going to be alright as long as you had them by your side.
Luke leaned in, his eyes scanning you with concern. "Seriously though, how are you feeling? You look like you've been through a wrestling match with a grizzly bear." He winced, glancing down at your IV.
"I've been better, I'm just glad it's all over now." You managed a weak smile, appreciating his attempt at levity.
"You scared the hell out of us, you know?" Jack plopped down in the chair next to your bed, his grin faltering slightly as he studied your face. "Typical youngest child behaviour, always the dramatic one."
You scoffed and rolled your eyes as Jack gently laced his fingers through your non-IV hand and squeezed ever so carefully.
"Yeah, I almost had to call in the cavalry to drag your stubborn, passed out self into the ER," Quinn added, a hint of teasing in his voice, though his eyes betrayed his worry.
You chuckled softly, feeling a swell of affection for your brothers. "Well, thanks for not leaving me to suffer." You lolled your head against your pillow as the boys shifted in their stances. The three boys stayed silent as they watched you move with a few groans.
There was a beat of silence before you spoke again.
"So...do you think I can use this whole appendix thing as an excuse to get out of doing chores for, like, the next year?" You asked with a mischievous yet lazy grin, earning a collective groan from the boys.
"You wish, y/n/n," Quinn retorted, rolling his eyes with a chuckle. "But nice try."
As laughter filled the room, you couldn't help but feel a surge of relief wash over you. Despite the pain and uncertainty, having your brothers by your side made everything feel a little bit brighter.
You listened intently as the three explained what had happened exactly from the moment you'd passed out to the very second you'd been brought into the room. Jack and Luke had apparently run over various traffic cones out in the parking lot whilst Quinn had apparently drunk his body weight in caffeine.
As you listened to them, a sudden thought dawned over you.
"Hey...so do Mom and Dad know?"
"Oh, fuck..." Jack grimaced, slapping a hand to his forehead as Quinn swore low under his breath. "We are dead."
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ryan-waddell11 · 2 years
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sweet angel boy
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karajaynetoday · 3 months
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hey now, you're an all-star | jack hughes
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it took one month of watching hockey for me to write fic. lmao. classic. good vibes.
thank you @littledrummeraussie for proofreading, love you angie 💖
READ PART TWO HERE
READ PART THREE HERE
word count: 2.8k
Warnings:  i don't think it needs any? just forgive my limited knowledge of hockey and canada i suppose? mentions of anxiety related to university? it's a bit angsty bc let's be real, do i ever know how to write anything else?
(This is a fem reader insert)
More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here
You’d known Jack Hughes for as long as you could remember. He stood up for you in the playground at kindergarten, when a bigger kid pushed you off the swings; you returned the favour by saving him from a spider on his backpack. Ever since, you’d always had each other’s backs. 
And for as long as you’d known Jack, you’d been able to tell when he was upset about something. His lips did this thing, not quite a pout, but nowhere near the easy smile you were used to seeing. He’d pull his sleeves down over his hands, and his breathing would be… deeper, somehow. He could never meet your gaze, either. 
You were scrolling through Instagram on your couch at home, where you were supposed to be studying, when you saw a video of Jack from the Devils fundraiser event, answering media questions about his injury and when he’d be back on the ice. He laughed and smiled for the cameras, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They asked about the all-star game, and you could feel his hesitation in answering. Jack tried to be positive and assure everyone that he had a chance of playing, but you both knew that wasn’t very likely. 
You sent the video to Jack with a comment bagging out his hairstyle, hoping to lift his mood a little, before dropping your phone onto the couch and drawing your attention back to the economics case study you were supposed to be analysing. 
You’d stayed in Toronto for university, while Jack headed off to New Jersey after his draft year. Long distance friendship took a lot of getting used to, but at least you were still in the same timezone, and the NHL schedule meant that Jack was contractually obliged to visit you a few times each year. Quinn too, despite how much he complained about the intensity of hockey mania in Toronto. In fact, the entire Hughes family sometimes made the trek, which you knew your parents not-so-secretly loved. It reminded you of the warmth you felt growing up in each other’s homes, filled with laughter and joy.
The little focus you had for your economics homework was broken when your phone began to vibrate beside you, Jack’s name flashing on the screen. You rolled your eyes with a smile, before leaning over to answer the video call. 
“Good morning, sunshine!” You greeted your best friend, who was already scowling at you. 
“Is it a good morning, though? When all I do is get criticism from my supposed best friend?” 
“It’s not criticism, more… encouragement, I’d say.” You teased back, Jack rolling his eyes at you.
“Encouraging what, exactly?”
“Encouraging you to make better personal style choices, especially related to hair. You are a millionaire, after all. Least you can do is get a decent haircut.” 
“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realise I was getting encouragement from the queen of high fashion. Is that a coffee stain on that shirt?” Jack’s eyes glanced down at what little he could see of your outfit in the video call, before poking his tongue out at you.
“Hey, I’m a university student. This is high fashion, I’ll have you know. Anyway, why aren’t you at training?” You asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. 
Jack’s lips pressed together, and he looked away from his phone and you; you silently cursed yourself for asking the question. Even though Jack had been injured, he’d been pretty dedicated to his rehab and recovery, so it was a little odd for him to be calling you in the morning rather than be at a physio session. 
“More scans this afternoon so no session this morning. Trying to decide if I can play next weekend or if I just have to show up and look pretty.” Jack tried to joke, but you could tell that it wasn’t something he found humour in. 
“Good thing that looking pretty comes naturally to you, J.” 
“Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I had shit hair?!”
“You can both be a pretty face and have shit hair, buddy. They’re not mutually exclusive.”
“Mutually exclusive? Is that a fancy term you learnt at school?” 
You laughed at that, earning a Jack smile in return. You continued chatting back and forth for another 30 minutes or so, before Jack had to go to his scans. 
You managed to get through the rest of your economics homework, but your mind kept wandering back to Jack and his frustration at being injured. He’d been an All-Star before, so it wasn’t that specifically he was frustrated about missing, you were certain. The difference this year was Quinn’s selection in the All-Star weekend, and the building anticipation around so-called “Team Hughes” that would see Jack and Quinn on the same team for the first time in their NHL careers. That’s probably what Jack was upset about, because as much as they chirp each other and are fiercely competitive, there’s nothing Jack Hughes loves more than his brothers. You knew that he’d be in his head overthinking everything and convincing himself that he was letting Quinn down, somehow, despite it being beyond his control. 
The only further communication you got from Jack that day was a thumbs-down text message, which told you all you needed to know. You were sporadically in touch a few times throughout the week, and before you knew it, it was the day everyone was flying in for All-Star weekend.
You’d managed to persuade your parents that a full-blown neighbourhood party was not necessary, and instead convinced them to accept Quinn’s invitation to a lowkey but nice dinner downtown near the hotel where he and Jack were staying. The dinner was something you were looking forward to all week, but you hadn’t anticipated two things: accidentally deleting half your economics essay the night before it was due and having to stay up until 3am to finish it; and the butterflies that you were feeling when you were getting ready for dinner. Why on earth were you so nervous? Seeing Jack and Quinn after a while was usually something that excited you, not stressed you out. 
You had just pulled on your dress and finished wrangling your hair when your phone pinged with a message from Jack. 
Have you looked at the menu for this place? We need to order a side of the loaded mac n cheese pls and thx 
I thought you were a high performance athlete? But of course, mac n cheese is a MUST
Correct, my body is a temple. A temple of mac n cheese. Mac is a carb, cheese is calcium for my bones. Winners all around. See ya soon x
Xo
It was freezing outside, so you took an Uber from your university apartment to the restaurant. You were running behind, thanks to traffic, and then you almost toppled over on the pavement outside due to the wet weather. Between that and your sleep deprivation, you honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, put your pyjamas on and cry; but you plastered a smile on your face and headed inside the restaurant. 
The hostess greeted you warmly, and offered to take your coat once you established that your parents had already arrived and were seated on a table towards the back of the restaurant, and you could see the backs of Jack and Quinn as you approached them. Everyone stood up to greet you with hugs and kisses, and the butterflies sparked again when Jack pulled out the chair next to his for you to sit down. Jack and Quinn both had nice sweaters on with collared shirts, and you were quietly glad you’d decided to wear a dress rather than the jeans you’d initially picked out. 
“How did your essay go, sweetheart? I know economics isn’t your favourite…” Your mother enquired, obviously unaware of your crisis the night before. 
You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of the diet coke in front of you (that Jack must’ve ordered for you, no doubt) before mumbling something about getting it sorted and hoping for the best. Your dad swiftly changed the subject to the weekend’s festivities, excitedly asking Quinn about his plans for the All-Star draft, but you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. You met his gaze and subtly shook your head, silently asking for him to save his questions for later. Jack frowned at you, but complied. 
The dinner felt like it went quickly, but also went for hours. Your stomach hurt from laughing (and probably too much mac and cheese), as Jack and Quinn regaled your parents with stories of their seasons and their plans for the next summer off in Michigan, where your two families would join each other for a month or so of adventures. You found yourself smiling as your dad and the Hughes brothers comically argued over who would pay the bill, before Jack excused himself to the bathroom and sneakily paid the bill on his way there. 
Jack and Quinn’s hotel was walking distance from the restaurant, and they excitedly invited you and your parents to come and see the fancy suite they’d been gifted for the weekend. Your mother made some excuse about traffic on the drive home and promised to come and see it some other time, but nudged you in your side as she told you to go and check it out. You were so tired and ready for bed, but reluctantly agreed; your window of opportunity to spend time with Jack was closing, so you figured you may as well make the most of it.
The butterflies in your stomach flitted around as Jack helped you into your coat before you headed outside the restaurant and bid your parents farewell. You fell into step in between the brothers as they traipsed back toward the hotel, conversation flowing easily as Quinn asked about your college classes and you asked him about the latest book he was reading. Jack was silent as you walked the few blocks before arriving at the hotel, and he gently placed his hand onto your back as you were guided through the hotel front door and into the elevator. 
Your jaw dropped when Quinn swiped his key card and you all entered the hotel suite. They weren’t joking about it being fancy, holy shit. 
The floor to ceiling windows had incredible views of the city skyline, with a very comfortable looking couch in the living area facing the view. Two doors at either side of the living room lead to bedrooms with luxurious linens, and the marble bathrooms were impeccably finished. 
Jack was grinning as he watched you take it all in, leaning up against the door frame to his bedroom as you stood near the window and gaped at the views. Quinn had flopped down on the couch and was texting on his phone. 
“Can they gift this to you year-round? I’d like to live here…” You mused, shaking your head at how insane this hockey lifestyle could be. 
“We could probably just buy it for you.” Jack said nonchalantly, as he wandered over to stand beside you at the window. 
“Yeah, if you want. They’d probably charge us more because I’m a Canuck, though.” Quinn deadpanned, earning a laugh from you and an eye-roll from Jack.
“Speaking of, the guys are all catching up in Petey’s room, so I think I’ll head down there. See you tomorrow after the draft, sugar plum.” Quinn pulled you into a hug, and your heart burst at him using your childhood nickname (which came from one ill-fated ballet performance and you insisted you hated, but secretly loved being called). 
You could’ve sworn you saw Quinn wink at Jack before he left the hotel room, but then again, the sleep deprivation could also be sending you loopy. 
“Wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked, moving to stand behind you and loop his arms around your waist as you still faced the window. Your heart rate shot through the roof as he pulled you closer, and nestled his head in between your neck and shoulder. You cringed as you realised he could probably feel your pulse beating fast. 
“Sure, but no blaming me if I fall asleep on you, sorryyyyy.” You awkwardly maneuvered yourself out of Jack’s embrace and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and removing your shoes. 
“The first time we’ve seen each other in MONTHS and you’re going to fall asleep? Am I that boring? Sheesh.” Jack drawled, watching you from where he stood.
“Yes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but lost it to a yawn which made you both laugh. 
“You know I love you, J. I would happily pull an all-nighter with you, but I don’t think two in a row is probably good for me.”
“Two in a row? What, where you out partying hard last night?” Jack’s voice trailed off as he wandered off into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You heard a drawer open and a light thud onto the floor, and your throat tightened when you realised Jack was changing his clothes. God, you’d gotten changed in front of each other a million times. Why was your brain making everything so weird tonight?
“Not quite. Had a disaster that involved accidentally deleting my entire essay, sobbing for an hour, then staying up until 3am to write the whole thing. Living the dream, as per usual.” You rattled off, trying to sound nonchalant about, even though just thinking about last night made you nauseous with anxiety. Your nonchalance was clearly unconvincing, as Jack came back out of the bedroom clad in a hoodie and sweats and bee-lined for you, his face covered in concern. 
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I promise. All part of the college experience.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or Jack more. He couldn’t either, but instead of pushing the issue, he threw a hoodie at your head and laughed when you looked offended. 
“I’m definitely falling asleep if I put this on, by the way. You know I love being cozy. Cozy is my natural state of being.” You pulled your hair up into a loose bun using the hair tie on your wrist, before pulling the black Devils hoodie over your head. 
Jack slotted himself beside you on the couch and reached his arm over your shoulders, finding the remote with his other hand and navigating the ridiculously large TV onto Netflix. 
“Fine by be, sugarplum. I’d rather know you’re getting sleep here than send you home to stress yourself out more.”  Jack mused, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your arm while he found the latest season of a TV show you both loved to watch and pressed play.
“I’m not stres - it was just one essay - I promise I’m fine.” You sputtered, tripping over your words when Jack locked eyes with you, his gaze empathetic but all-knowing. 
“Besides, I’m not the only one in the room worth worrying about.” You said softly, nudging Jack’s side gently. Jack rolled his lips between his teeth, and sighed; he put down the remote and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. 
“But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re not letting anyone down, though. Quinn doesn’t think that.” You continued, softly, not wanting to cause tension. 
Jack sighed deeply again and pulled his arm away from you, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands. 
“You don’t know what Quinny’s thinking, sugar. And it’s not just Quinn, it’s the fucking journalists, and Bratter’s vacation being ruined, and goddamn Michael Bublé being disappointed in me, and - just - fucking all of it.” Jack exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
You didn’t know what to say, because you could tell that Jack wasn’t in a mood that you could talk him down out of. But you could tell he needed comfort, needed reassurance, needed to know that you still had his back. Ever since kindergarten. 
You grabbed the back of Jack’s hoodie and gently tugged it, and he leaned back against the couch. You tapped Jack’s legs next, and he moved them up onto the other side of the L-shaped couch, so he was properly reclining. You paused, trying to figure out how to position yourself without being literally on top of Jack, but while your brain was running a million miles a minute, Jack’s hand found yours and yanked you towards him gently. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before adjusting yourself between Jack’s body and the side of the couch. Jack’s arm found a home over your hips and settled gently on your stomach, pulling your back against his chest. You felt his breath on your neck as you both wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.
 
“Is this okay, sugar?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, directly into your ear. You didn’t trust your voice not to squeak a response so you simply nodded, trying desperately to calm your fast beating heart.
You rested your hand on top of Jack’s and gently squeezed, feeling yourself starting to lull to sleep. Despite the butterflies and your heart jumping out of your chest, you somehow had never felt more at peace, right in this moment.
This was safe, this was calm. This was home. 
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