#chaos with quinn

[mattatouilletkachuk]

Can you write for Quinn with the “Can I sleep with you?” Prompt pls

Oliver The Orca || Quinn Hughes

Part of The Hockey Babies AU

Prompt: 29. “Can I sleep with you?”

Warnings: anxiety, fear of the future

WC: 6.8k

A/N: This was meant to be short and sweet jfc lol. I decided because it’s so long that I’d make this the origin for them in my Hockey Babies Au.

Summary: Since moving to Michigan as a child, you’ve been annoyed by the eldest child that lived next door. Neither of your parents care and insist on a camping trip before every school year.

Camping trips were not for you. You were meant for the city or at least a relatively mid-sized town. Not trees, bugs, and a tent that you had to put together yourself. Well, that last part was only somewhat true because after failing to put your tent together three times and watching it collapse Quinn had come over to help you. By help, it meant that you stood back and made sure not to touch anything, per his request. 

It happens every year. With your parents being friends with Ellen and Jim Hughes there was always a Summer camping trip before school started. When you asked your mother why she insisted that you go she simply told you that as you grow up life moves by fast and that close friends you once had growing up may not be around when you get older. Hence, the camping trip. 

You didn’t know much about your mom before your family moved to Michigan. In your defense, how much was a six-year-old supposed to know about their parents? 

Even when you were young, your mom liked to talk about her childhood and the one thing and person that was always a constant in her stories was a woman named Ellen. According to your mom, she and Ellen had gone to high school and college together. When they parted ways after graduation their communication slowly died out that was until you moved into your brand new house in Michigan. 

As your dad drove the van down the suburban streets filled with large houses, you couldn’t help but think that Michigan didn’t seem all that much different from anywhere else you had lived in your short six years. Your younger brother was excited enough for both of you. You weren’t easily annoyed by your brother but his nonsensical 4-year-old ramblings about everything he saw made you roll your eyes. He didn’t get it. He wasn’t leaving behind any friends or starting at a new school. If your family stayed here this is all he would ever remember, not the home or neighborhood you lived in before. 

Your dad seemed to notice your sour mood and tried to point things out that would usually catch your attention. He talked about how there would be more room for you to play, and that there was a lake nearby where you could swim in the summer. Your mom even suggested that you could learn how to ice skate during the winter when the lake froze over. None of it interested you until your dad told you that you would finally have your own bedroom. 

That made you perk up. At some point, you were sure that you had to have had your own bedroom at some point. You didn’t remember it because for as long as you could remember you shared a bedroom with your brother. For the rest of the drive, you sat back in your booster seat, thinking about how you would decorate it and if you could somehow convince your parents to let you have your own television. When you started school you could have sleepovers whenever you wanted!

That sounded nice. You’ve been trying to tell them since the few months since your birthday that you were a big girl now and six-year-olds are too old to share a bedroom with their brothers, especially a snot-nosed tattle tale like your brother.

The rest of your family chatted merrily, talking about all the great things living in this neighborhood would have, and how your dad’s new job would be great for the family because he’d be around a lot more. Your parents didn’t try to pull you back into the conversation, knowing that a neutral mood from you would be better than a grumpy one. 

Finally, when you pulled up to what was to be your new house, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. It was large and white and there was even a porch. It was like one of those houses you saw in movies or on the covers of the magazines your mom read while waiting in line to buy her groceries. 

You refused to let yourself feel too excited about it, though. Your parents had to know that you didn’t approve of this move and that you were still upset about leaving your friends behind and your old home, and the fact that you had to get rid of half of your stuffed animals to make room in the van for a move you didn’t even want! 

You flinched when suddenly you heard your mother shriek and nearly jump out of the car, even though your dad had yet to put it into park. You watched in confusion as your mother waved her arms about to get some other woman’s attention. It seemed to work because the other woman turned away from what you presumed were her three sons, who had to be around the same age as you and your brother and embraced your mother in a tight hug. 

Finally pulling into the driveway slowly and parking the car, your dad went over to unbuckle your brother from his seat and just like your mother he scrambled out of the car to meet the children who were standing behind the woman mom was talking animatedly to. You watch from your seat as your mom introduces your brother to this strange new woman - you wonder if it’s Ellen, the one whom your mom has pictures of from when they were young. She looks similar, taller than your mom, leaner, and with the build of an athlete, and her blonde hair is a stark contrast to your own mom’s darker shade.

Even her smile is the same. You were told you were moving to be closer to your dad’s new job but now you can’t help but wonder if your mom knew that she would somehow be neighbors with her old friend. 

When your dad comes around to help unbuckle your booster seat, you sit back and let him, now eyeing the three boys in roller skates and hockey sticks. It’s the middle one you think that your brother is mainly talking to. Mainly because the youngest, either still a toddler or just a little bit older is holding onto his mom’s leg as he takes in the new people. The other one has to be the oldest, you think, with the way his face is set into a serious mask, and is the only one that has seemed to notice you. 

You don’t like that he’s watching you. You don’t know him but at that same time, that’s why you don’t put up resistance to being unbuckled, where normally you would have. You didn’t want to seem like a loser so quickly after moving here. You haven’t even stepped foot into your new house yet. 

When your dad helps you clamber out of the car, you make sure to grab your favorite stuffed animal that you were allowed to bring on the trip. When your parents had brought you to Build-a-Bear, they probably thought you’d get a regular bear or an expensive dog but instead, you picked an orca. An orca that you named Oliver who never once left your side. 

“Do I have to meet them?” you pulled on your dad’s shirt so that you could be face-to-face with him. You could see that he was trying to hold back a laugh but a light smile still found its way onto his lips. He wasn’t fooling you, though. With as much seriousness as you could muster on your small round face, you continued, “Can’t we see the house first and see these people tomorrow?”

Your dad sighed and replied, “Your mom and brother are already over there. Your mom is catching up with an old friend and your brother, it looks like is making a new friend himself.”

You grumbled something under your breath but your dad ignored it.

“We won’t stay out here for long and it’s nice to get to know you’re neighbors.” He added. “If you get too nervous or you want to leave squeeze your stuffed animal or hand him to me and I’ll get the message that it’s time to go.”

“Oliver,” you muttered. “His name is Oliver.”

He patted down your hair which had gotten more messy as the day went on and hummed apologetically, “I’m sorry, will you tell Oliver that?”

You nodded and with Oliver tucked under one arm, you grabbed your dad’s hand with the other and walked over to the others. You dropped his hand but remained close by, even when he moved closer to your mom and threw his arm around her.

When your mom finally noticed you she introduced you to everyone, “This is my daughter,” your mom announced. 

After telling them all your names, the other woman laughed. It was bright and kind. “You always did say if you had a daughter one day, that’s what you would name her.”

They shared one more laugh before your mom continued, “Darling, this is Luke,” he was still holding onto his mom’s leg and you noticed his hair was the brightest. Up close you realized that your original guess of four was wrong. He was barely three years old. You waved shyly at the younger boy and smiled, “This is Jack, he claims to like hockey more than his brothers,” which made the tallest one huff a breathy laugh. “He’s the same age as your brother, isn’t that nice?”

You weren’t sure what to say to that so you just nodded.

“This one, right here,” your mom said with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes that you couldn’t decipher, “is Quinn. He’s the oldest and just so happens to be around your age.”

You took him all in now that you were only standing a few feet away. His hair was much darker and his complexion was pale, you couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like in the winter. He didn’t smile but his eyes weren’t unkind. 

He broke the silence well by holding up his hand for you to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he politely said. You replied, saying the same thing and holding Oliver closer to you. 

You wouldn’t consider yourself a shy child but it was the way that everyone was so engrossed in the conversation the adults were having while Quinn kept his eyes on you the whole time. You couldn’t pinpoint how it made you feel. You were annoyed that you were singled out but at the same time, a warm buzzing feeling hummed through you as you were the sole focus of someone’s attention. 

It all felt like too much, though, and eventually, you handed your stuffed animal to your dad. He was a man of his word and in less than five minutes your mom was wrapping up her conversation with Ellen.

You thought the interaction was over but as you had turned to walk away Ellen shouted one last thing that made your mom’s ears perk up. She turned around and Ellen said, “Every summer before school begins we go on a camping trip. We go for about three days. We leave in a week, I’d love it if you could all come.”  

Without looking at your brother or you, or your father for that matter, your mother agreed happily. You know that meant that before you were even unpacked she would drag everyone to the store to buy camping gear. 

This time you truly thought you were done because now your parents had started to walk out of earshot and Ellen had started to help Luke take off his roller skates. 

However, loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough for everyone else not to, you heard Quinn utter the words, “Don’t forget to bring your orca on the trip.”

You didn’t stop, exactly. You tripped on an uneven part of the sidewalk and managed to catch yourself before falling flat on your face. You looked back at the oldest Hughes and saw that he was gone. 

You weren’t a drama queen, no matter how many relatives tried to tell you you were. You were picky and you knew what you liked but you never expected others to understand, that would have been rude. However, how had Quinn known that Oliver was an Orca? Nobody knew, especially children your age. You only knew because one day your dad fell asleep watching a documentary about sea life. Every time someone would guess what your stuffed animal was they often guess a whale, which was a common misconception. One time you heard someone call it a narwhal. You were offended on Oliver’s behalf but secretly found it a little funny. 

You stopped letting it bother you but the surprise and shock you felt when someone knew what Oliver was made you radiate happiness. It probably seemed ridiculous to most people but Oliver was important to you. All the grumpiness in the car from earlier had disappeared. That didn’t mean you actually liked the eldest of the three brothers. He was quiet and seemed sort of grumpy and acted like he wanted nothing to do with you. 

Your first family camping trip was filled with highs and lows. Jim Hughes taught you how to fish, and you soon realized that you hated it but he seemed to enjoy it so you went along with it. You taught Luke how to make a flower crown. Your mom and Ellen gossiped about their time in school and all the time in between that they missed. 

Quinn on the other hand, barely spoke to you. It wasn’t subtle either, everyone was aware and thought the two of you would work it out by the end of the trip. It’s not like you were avoiding him. Maybe a little but not as much as he was trying to avoid you. 

All of it made any little spark inside you that wanted to be his friend die. So you vowed for the rest of the trip to ignore him. It felt better to be the one doing the ignoring and not the one being ignored. 

When school started you were put into different classes so thankfully the only time you had to see Quinn was lunch time and even then the two of you would sit across the cafeteria to sit with your friends.

For years it had worked. You were cordial as neighbors and put on pleasant smiles for your parents when they decided to have a dinner night with both families. At school you didn’t talk, sometimes you would catch him glancing over at you but you never brought it up. If he had a staring problem that would have to be something he would have to deal with on his own.

The camping trips usually went smoothly. At least up until this last year. There was always so much to do that it was easy to shrug off any attempts anyone made for you to hang out with Quinn. You were nineteen and he was turning the same age in a month. 

This could very well be the last camping trip you spent with everyone and sometimes, late at night, the feeling of not seeing Quinn again hurt but then you remembered his judgemental stares and how pretty, skinny, blonde girls would fawn over him once he became a hockey player in the NHL.

Your own thoughts startle you. What do you care if a bunch of girls threw themselves at Quinn while you were away? You especially didn’t care if he took an interest in any of them. He already went to and played hockey at the University of Michigan. You couldn’t think of one instance where he didn’t have several different options for who he spent the night with. When he goes to play for the NHL, nothing will have changed. 

(Other than everything. In Michigan, you knew you would see him again. When he moved he wouldn’t be there when you came to visit.)

This was one of the reasons you couldn’t stand Quinn most of the time. He jumbled up your thoughts and you didn’t know what to do with them. With Jack and Luke, it was different,

they had become like a second set of brothers with how often they were over at your house. Quinn, even though the offer was extended to him by every one of your family members, he still never came over. 

From the get-go, it was clear that ignoring Quinn for the entire trip wasn’t going to happen.

On the first night, you followed the routine that you had developed over the several years of camping. There was one problem, though, and that was since your first camping trip to now, you had never gotten the hang of putting your tent together. You tried! But someone would always have to help you in the end. You looked around for your brother or your dad but when you turned back to the pile of what was meant to be your tent on the ground, Quinn had come over and silently helped to put it together.

Few words were exchanged, such as, “Can you stand over there?”“Don’t touch that.” and “Hold onto that for a second.”

When your tent was all propped up and ready for you, you went to say ‘thank you’ but Quinn was already walking off to help your dad unload bags from his car. 

By the time you had everything all laid out, your sleeping bag, an extra blanket, a flashlight, and of course Oliver the Orca, the sun had begun to set. Jim called for everyone to come gather around the campfire. You pulled a hoodie over your t-shirt and claimed a spot on the log near the fire. You weren’t the last to arrive, as you waited for Jack, your brother, and Quinn to arrive you stared into the crackling campfire. 

The camping trip had been pushed back this year so now it was late September and there was a little chill in the air and the warmth from the fire was enough to warm you up. 

Luckily for you, in a week you would be heading back to school for your second year at the University of Oregon. It wasn’t your first choice and you knew it would get cold there too, but when you toured the school before your first year, you fell in love with the area. It was lush and green and had everything you wanted. 

Quinn gave you what had to have been a sarcastic smile when he finally plopped down on the log on the other side of the fire. You made a show of rolling your eyes at him in return. The little grin that wanted to come up was swallowed back down when you realized that you would miss this. The playfulness that snuck in between both of your two soured your mood.

Looking at Quinn brought back another thought that you’ve recently been thinking about. It was something that would nag at you as you packed up your room and took late-night walks around the neighborhood. You were afraid of getting homesick. You got homesick the first year you went away to college but you were expecting that. It was different, though, you were aching for some type of freedom. You loved your friends and family, and for the first time in your life, you would be free to do whatever you wanted without someone hovering over you. 

This year felt different. Your friends from home had started to settle in the cities and towns that they chose to move to. Your little brother was looking at colleges on the East Coast and even Jack was going into the NHL draft this year. With Quinn going to Vancouver to play for the Canucks, he would be the one that you would be the closest to but Vancouver was still a distance from Eugene, Oregon. There was no chance that you would ever just accidentally cross paths with him. 

For a second, you felt of pang of sadness. You’ve known Quinn since you were six and it won’t be like last year when you left for school and you would FaceTime or Skype your friends and family and Quinn would be in the background. Quinn was such a fixture in your life and now he was going to be gone too. Quinn loved Michigan, so you would probably see him in the Summers but what if after you graduate you get a job somewhere else? Somewhere where you know no one. 

You're jolted out of your spiraling emotions when Jack and your brother plop down on the log next to you, fighting over a bag of unopened marshmallows. You could thank the heavens for their timing because it feels like you’ve been having more and more thoughts about Quinn, your future, and Quinn being a part of your future.

The bag that Jack and your brother were fighting over tears in half, just like anyone could have predicted. The marshmallows go flying everywhere. Some land in the fire and melt quickly but mostly they land amongst the forest floor.

What you weren’t expecting was Jack jumping up from the log and hopping around screaming in a pitch that could rival a little girl’s. 

“Oh shit! Oh shit! OH SHI-!”

No one can hold back their laughter as they watch him frantically move about. Your brother nearly falls off of his log in a fit of laughter and you think you hear Quinn snort. 

“Jack Rowden Hughes!” Ellen scolds but when you look at her you can see the laughter she was trying her hardest to suppress. 

“Sorry, mom,” Jack mumbles but still doesn’t stop hopping around looking for the marshmallows.

“What the hell are you even doing?” Quinn asks, and unlike his mother, he’s not trying to hide his amusement. 

When he laughs you feel your chest get tight. You look briefly at him when he speaks and see that he’s already looking at you. He’s not smirking or glaring. No, he’s just smiling at you. There doesn’t seem to be any hidden meaning or mocking in his eyes. He’s happy and you’re the one he’s showing it to unabashedly. 

“Don’t you read?” Jack snaps, his hands overflowing with the marshmallows he’s grabbed from the floor, your mom kindly hands him a bag of garbage for him to throw away the dirt-covered sticky treat.  “Bears love Marshmallows!”

“Wasn’t that a SpongeBob episode?” You inquire with a laugh, shortly followed by Luke and Quinn. 

“Dear, we’ve been camping here for thirteen years.” Your mom tries to soothe Jack but everyone, including her, knows it’s futile. “No one has ever seen a bear around here.”

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t lurking around waiting to pounce,” Jack argues but he slowly calms down. Well, as calm as Jack can manage. 

“What does “waiting to pounce” even mean? Do you think Winnie The Pooh is hiding behind that tree over there?”

“Shut up, Quinn,” Jack grumbles and is shoved down to sit back on the log by his dad.

After everyone is calmed or close enough to calm your dad pulls out another bag of marshmallows and chocolate from a bag while Ellen grabs graham crackers. Jim finds the sticks for you all to toast the s’mores with all while your mom sits back in her chair, drinking out of a thermal cup, and by her lazy smile and pink cheeks, you’re starting to think that perhaps it’s not coffee or hot chocolate. 

Everyone quickly falls into the easy chatter that only forms after years of knowing one another. You hold your s’more over the fire as you sit quietly, listening to all the conversations happening around you. 

You're pretty sure that whatever is in your mom’s mug she shared with Ellen because the two of them are quietly giggling after every other word. Jim and your dad are talking to Jack about his future and what the draft might be like when it comes around soon. You feel bad for the kid. You’ve heard almost every adult close to Jack give him the same speech. It’s not like he won’t have a future. You’ve seen him play hockey, both for fun and for competition, and know that he’s better than good. Every team is looking at him right now and with his charisma and the way he moves on the ice, he’s guaranteed to become a star almost immediately after being drafted. 

Luke and your brother have given up on eating the s’mores altogether and are taking turns throwing marshmallows back and forth to see who can catch the most with only their mouths. After a minute of watching, you can safely say they’re both terrible and that ‘the bear’ coming out to eat the marshmallows is more likely than one of them catching one of them in their mouths.

You stayed quiet, not feeling like participating in any of the conversations. It wouldn’t raise any suspicions, since this annual trip began you were always worn out by the end of the day. Not talking to anyone, eating whatever your dad decides to barbecue, and falling asleep on your mom’s lap. So no one questioned you as you tried to not set your campfire snack on fire and thought about how everything was about to change after you all left the camping grounds and how you weren’t ready for it. 

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed that Quinn was quiet himself. Not staring down his burnt marshmallow like you put sneaking curious glances your way and silently hoping you would catch him. 

With a loud slap on his knee and a groan that only fathers seemed to know how to make your dad stood from his lawn chair. 

“It’s been a long day, I think I’ll try to get some sleep so I can wake up early to catch some fish.”

Jim nodded enthusiastically at the prospect of fishing in the morning and stood up as well. Both of the men helped their wives up from their seats, you smiled as they made it difficult for their husbands to walk them to their tents. The swaying a giggling never died down, even when they were inside and the tent was zipped. 

You were never one for fishing and why people liked to do it so early in the day perplexed you. You had attempted fishing twice in your life, once with your dad and brother which resulted in you being pushed into the lake by your brother and the other time was on a camping trip where Jim was convinced he could change your mind about fishing. It didn’t work. So now your plans for tomorrow are to lay down a beach blanket near the water and read one of the books you brought with you. 

The next ones to stray towards their tents for the night were Luke and your brother. You knew they were going to be next. They enjoyed fishing and spending time with their respective dads. 

“Maybe I’ll even catch dinner for us tomorrow!” your brother exclaimed. 

You wanted to gag at the idea but you saw the excited look on his face and decided against it. Instead, you gave him a thumbs up and mustered up a, “I’ll wish you luck!”

Jack didn’t say goodnight to anyone but you all saw him run behind one of the trees to vomit all of the sugar he consumed. By now he was most likely in his tent groaning or trying to get a signal on his phone. Probably both. 

It didn’t take long for Quinn to stand and bid you goodnight after the other boys left. Your eyes followed him as he walked with his head down to his tent. He had no real reason for leaving. You had watched him sporadically throughout the night and he didn’t seem tired. Perhaps he just didn’t want to stay out here alone with you. You murmur a quiet goodnight back, not sure if he heard it or not but not wanting to say it again. 

You weren’t ready for sleep yet. Your mind was still racing and when your thoughts came back to coming home for the holidays and everyone not being there a knot formed in your throat. You had made friends in Oregon and this upcoming year you would likely start networking, which meant meeting new people, and even though you haven’t met them yet, you knew they weren’t going to be better than the people sleeping in the tents less than ten feet away from you. 

If it hadn’t been for the chilly early September breeze you probably wouldn’t have noticed the tears on your cheeks. You wiped them away quickly. Everyone had already gone to sleep so you could cry as much as you wanted to and no one would know. No one but you, and you didn’t want to deal with all of those emotions right now. You were only feeling like this because it had been a long day and what you needed was a good night's rest. 

You watched the fire die down and when it was only embers left you sprinkled some sand on it to make sure it wouldn’t set the forest ablaze as you all slept. When you were done with that you crawled into your tent and tried to get comfortable in your sleeping bag. 

It was futile. The extra blanket didn’t warm you up and the sleeping bag was old and had small holes in it that you didn’t notice when you had packed it. Not even pulling Oliver close to your chest made you feel better. 

The tent was cold and hard and despite the rustling leaves and wind outside, it felt silent. You weren’t built to be alone and with your recurring thoughts of everyone leaving and not coming back once school starts up again, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stay in your tent tonight. 

You grabbed your extra blanket and Oliver and paused when you were outside. Who could you share a tent with without them making a big deal of it? Your brother and Jack were immediately scratched off that list. They had the biggest mouths known to man. You could seek out the comfort of your parents, similar to when you were little and afraid and you would crawl into their much bigger bed and cuddle between the two of them. They would worry if you did that now and you didn’t want to worry them on the first night of the trip they had come to love.

There was nothing wrong with going to Luke but your body itched to turn the other way and go to Quinn’s tent. He wouldn’t tell anyone and even if he wasn’t sharing the same thoughts out loud, perhaps he was thinking them silently, after all, he was in the same predicament.

Before you could stop yourself you tapped gently on the tent and whispered his name. 

Nothing happened, so you continued just a little louder and perhaps with a slight whine. “Quinn! Quinn, open your tent. Quinn, are you asleep?”

Finally, the zipper was tugged down and a disheveled Quinn appeared. Despite his look of annoyance, you could tell that he wasn’t really upset with you. If he was he would have told you to go away by now or never opened the tent.

“What’s wrong?” His words slurred from sleep but his tone was serious. 

With a weak smile, you replied, “I think there’s a bear outside my tent that thinks I’m a marshmallow. Can I sleep with you?”

To your surprise, Quinn shuffled to the side of his sleeping bag to make room for you. When you continued to look at him dumbstruck he sighed and waved at the tent flap and said, “Can you come in here already? Also make sure you zip that up. I’m pretty sure that any bear with a sweet tooth will be dissuaded by a zipper.” 

You did as he asked and once you did you climbed into the sleeping bag with him. He grunted when you accidentally elbowed him in the stomach and when you kept trying to readjust in the small sleeping area that was only really meant for one Quinn grabbed your waist and rolled you so that your back was against his front. You felt breathless being so close to Quinn, no that wasn’t it, being held so close to him. The two of you grew up together so it didn’t feel strange to sleep in the same area. Sometimes you had to share a bed because your brother and Jack wanted to share one instead. One time when you were sharing an air mattress, it popped and you both had to sleep on the floor after that. You still held firm that the popping was Quinn’s fault. 

This was different, though. Out of all the times you had to sleep near Quinn, he never seemed like a cuddler and yet, here you were with his arm slung tightly around you, with his forehead pressed against your neck. Slowly and without saying anything you grabbed his hand that was on your waist, holding you to him, and intertwined your fingers. It felt grounding. How could you spiral when he was so solidly here? 

“So are you sticking with the bear story or are you actually going to tell me why you're in my tent?” Quinn said into the quiet darkness. 

You didn’t want to answer his question. You wanted to lay here and be held and take up all of his warmth and fall asleep. You also knew that if you didn’t vocalize your fears they would only get bigger and bigger until one day you would simply combust and find yourself living in a cardboard box outside of your childhood home.

You squeezed Oliver with the hand that wasn’t holding Quinn’s and whispered shyly, “I’m afraid of what happens after this. I’m afraid that once I go back to school everything will change and I’ll come home and nothing will be how it was.”

You let out a breath of relief. Even though you couldn’t help but still fret over everything it still felt nice to get all of that off of your chest. 

Quinn had remained quiet the whole time and for a moment you thought he was falling asleep until he squeezed your hand and moved his arm under your head to grab Oliver. Quinn wasn’t taking him from you but he held him gently. Almost stroking the worn fuzz on the stuffed orca.

“Things are gonna change,” he finally said. “All of our parents will still be in Michigan and so will your brother and when he goes to college I’m sure he’ll call to annoy you every day.”

You smiled sadly, it was true. Your little brother was like you. He aches for space but needs to know that the people he loves will still be there. 

“Doesn’t it scare you?” It’s a whisper, you can barely hear yourself over the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing in your ears. 

You didn’t know why you felt scared right now, this was Quinn, the same boy you’ve known nearly all your life. On the other side, though, this is Quinn, the same guy that annoys you more often than not. Who on most days you think he might hate you and you might hate him. Your thumb rubs circles on the hand that’s holding yours. What was it that your mom always said? There’s a thin line between love and hate.

It takes a minute and then two before you think he might not answer. Had his lips not been so close to your neck you wouldn’t have heard him. His words would have been lost with the wind outside. 

“Of course I’m scared.” He finally says and before you can cut in he continues. “I’m scared that I won’t be as good as people are hoping I will be when I finally get to play. I’m afraid to be so far away from my family.” He paused again but kept quiet, there was a tension in the air and you knew he wanted to say more. “I know my family will always be there, though. I also know that my friends will be too. I just don’t know about you.”

You went to turn around so that you could see his face and hear his words when he says them. His arms around your waist stop you, though.

“Whether or not I like it, you know everything about me.” You reply, the next part you look at your stuffed Orca so it feels like you're talking to it rather than him. “I think you might be the only person who knows everything about me. You’re always paying attention.”

“Of course, I’ve been paying attention.” 

You don’t hesitate and you don’t let yourself think before saying what you want to.

“Why?”

Quinn sighs your name and it sounds like a prayer. It sounds like he’s begging you to just know. Quinn is a man of few words and you want him to say it. 

“When I was six a stubborn girl with a stuffed Orca moved in next door to me. You watched me, you saw me, first before you finally looked at my family. For as long as I can remember I’ve been an afterthought to everybody.” Quinn says and his words make you hurt. “I did things to annoy you just so you would notice me because I wanted /your/ attention.”

“That’s very playground of you.” You say lightly, trying to ease the suffocating air in the tent. 

Quinn laughs lightly and it tickles your neck. “Then, and here’s the kicker, I get drafted to the Vancouver Canucks, and team far away from everything I know and then I remember that this girl that I’ve been annoying on purpose for years has what can only be described as an emotional support Orca. People have stuffed bears, ducks, or literally anything else. I’ve never seen someone with an Orca and for the first time everything I had and everything I’ve ever wanted became so clear.”

“And what is it that you want?” 

He lets go of your hand and sits up on his elbows just so he can look at you when says, “You. Since you got out of that car gripping that stuffed animal in one hand and your dad’s hand in the other all while giving the meanest glare I think I’ve ever seen from a kindergartner.”

“I thought you hated me.”  

“I thought you hated me.”

A small smile tugs at the side of your lip, “I thought I did too. If I’m being honest, though, I don’t think I could ever actually hate you.”

The kiss is a surprise. It’s not on your lips or your neck, Quinn simply leans down and places his lips to your forehead. After that, he lays back down behind you and wraps his arm around your torso. You waste no time grabbing his hand and sinking into his embrace. 

He’s solid and warm and for the first time in months, your mind doesn’t feel like it’s running a mile a minute. 

“Do you believe in fate?” 

The question catches you off guard. Fate? Quinn was so practical it seemed like a weird thing for him to ask. Did you believe in it though? If you were asked ten years ago, you would have said yes. If you were asked four years ago you would have said no, but lying in Quinn’s tent and in his arms, you can’t but wonder if maybe you do?

“I don’t know.” You say honestly. “Do you?” 

Quinn is quick to answer, “Oh yeah, how else can I explain that the girl I fell for at six would have a favorite stuffed animal that is an Orca, while I’m about to play for Vancouver whose mascot is an orca?” 

You smile at that. It did seem rather fate-like if you thought about it like that. 

“Well, when you put it like that,” you laugh, as does Quinn. “When you’re off being a hotshot hockey player in Canada you have to promise me something.”

“Hmm, depends on what it is that I have to promise.”

You bit your lip and let your eyes slide down to Oliver. You hoped that Quinn would hear the true meaning of your words when you said them because you doubted you could say them out loud yet. “Just remember that Oliver is your favorite Orca when you’re out there.”

You waited with bated breath. Quinn’s breathing had slowed and for a moment you wondered if he had fallen asleep. 

That was until he pulled you closer to himnand said directly in your ear, “Oliver will always be my favorite no matter where I go.”

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

Random Batfam Headcanon's #15:

(continuation of Headcanon #12)

One of Steph's personal favorite posts was a video she posted titled "Ranking my Father(in-law)'s former lovers" and she has an entire Tier maker list created, that doesn't use any real pictures of the Lovers, just out of context photos that only people in the know would know.

Selina's picture is just a random picture of her actual Cats ("She's Chatty, she's able to help me whenever I forget my Keys, She's able to Acquire the best Christmas presents! A Tier.")

Thalia's is a picture of the stereotypical Witches Cauldron filled with a green liquid ("She's Rich, she has an army of Assassins at her beck and call, Dad was apparently Happy when he was with her??? Unfortunately, she's in a very patriarchal dominant home life with her birth family, her father forcibly broke off the relationship, and she STILL hasn't sent me a Birthday Gift!!! C Tier. Buuuutttt she mothered the current Robin, so, for him, I'll bump her up to a B.")

Harvey's picture was just a ¢50 piece she found while walking around that had a lot of grime on one half of the coin ("I'm not fully sure about this one, I never met them when they were sane, but apparently they were really good friends. It's not going so well now, so I'll put it at a C Tier.")

Harley's Photo was literally just a Selfie of Steph with Harley's Jacket draped over her head ("This one is being put into an immediate D Tier, not because they weren't Wholesome (I've heard stories), but Because she is finally happy and in a stable relationship with her own Girlfriend, and honestly me and my own relationship partner view them as Goals for our own relationship. She's also currently his therapist, so D Tier.")

Steph was completely silent as she moved The random Image of a Joker Card to a Tier Below F titled "The most Toxic relationship you will ever see"

The internet exploded when people noticed the 2 images at S Tier, one of them being Wonder Woman's Logo, and the other being Superman's iconic S emblem, but a pair of wedding bands were laid atop the S. ("Look, Princess {referring to the WW Logo} is both his second eldest's favorite person in the world, but she is also the biggest female goal any of us can have. They are adorable, they are funny, this man had to serenade a group of people just so he can save her ass. If that's not love, what is? S Tier. Now, as for the Couple {referring to the Superman Logo}, Dad has somehow been shepherded into an existing relationship, and I think the wife in that relationship just assumed that they also got our dad as a package deal with her own legal husband. Yes, they had THAT bad of a pining for each other. I, sadly, was not around to see the forming of the relationship, but it was reportedly the most awkward 3 years of Coworkers pining after each other anybody has ever seen, and if it wasn't for the Couples Youngest inheriting the "special trait" of the husband of that relationship, we'd be sat here questioning who the father was. It's also, like, the biggest bragging right, so S Tier.")

And then finally there was just a picture of a Bat. ("This man has an almost unhealthy relationship with the Bats in his mancave. He's named all of them. Well, his eldest named all of the original ones, he's just... Continued to name all the new one's that migrate into the cave?? He gets them vaccinated and takes them to the Vet??? B Tier, I'm putting them above Robin's Mom.")

[kentjohnson91]

memes are back my dudes

[sammybrrr]

The boys❤️

Credit: childrenofthenight9 on insta

[houndfaker]

more anthro au sonic designs + a bonus organic metal sonic for my own amusement

[somestorythoughts]

Allies in The Last Dam Job

There's this fun bit of attention to detail In The Last Dam Job when they're discussing how to get Dubenich:

This isn't quite the full gif but what it is is that Sophie says that Dubenich is going to know every friend, every person that they would be expected to go to for help. And Nate looks at Eliot and goes "we find someone who is not a friend" to Sophie and Parker "someone who is not in the game" to Hardison "someone we do not trust." And that's exactly what happens.

Eliot recruits Quinn who we last saw trying to kick the shit out of Eliot:

Parker recruits Archie who is retired:

Sophie recruits Maggie who is the token honest friend in this heist show:

And Hardison recruits Chaos who they all hate for trying to kill Sophie:

It's just a good bit of attention to detail.

[spacedace]

He paused at that, eyes narrowing. “Doc,” He said, slowly, “Who, exactly, did you reach out to on this matter?”

The amusement in Leslie Thompkins’ voice said everything he needed to know. As did the sudden thunder of feet as his security team began to swarm him - a few skidding on the ice, though recovering admirably - and make their way to the front door, guns at the read. “You’re clever Mr. Cobblepot, I’m sure you already know.”

The worst part was that he did.

Oswald felt a headache bloom behind his eyes as he realized the chaos about to invade his home.

--

Chapter 8 is (finally) here!

[ourphantomsforeverr]

Found a box full of sharp objects~

[icallhimjoey]

request: we have a panic attack and joe's there

MMM chefs kiss this is how to do a request, i fucking LOVE this, because, yes, we can have a panic attack and yes, joe can be there, but you know what ????? joe doesn't know how to fucking help at ALL (bcos useless clueless idiot) thanks for requesting! Wordcount: 2.1K

---

Heartbeats All Chaos

Joe had never seen an actual panic attack up close.

He’d heard of people having them, someone not making it to whatever was planned because they’d had a panic attack earlier and everyone would always frown and nod and be so very understanding.

Once at school, he’d heard a girl cry and then was later told she was having a panic attack. It had just looked like crying to him, but what did he know?

Well, he knew technically what they were, knew that people who had them felt like they were actively dying.

And he knew what being panicked felt like.

But when he got out of the shower and found you sat on the edge of bed, unresponsive to how he shook his hair like a dog when he walked past you, that was...

Unusual. To say the least.

His own smile turned into a frown, looking back at you over his shoulder as he opened the wardrobe.

“Hey,” 

You just stared ahead, chest heaving, nostrils flared.

“Hey are you all right?”

Just... nothing. 

You had a weird relationship with panic. You knew it liked you a bit too much, and when you were younger, you’d been forced to become acquainted with it. Had to learn the tell-tale signs of when it would try to grab hold of you. Had to learn how to prevent an attack, avoid whatever could potentially trigger it. Had to learn what to do when its long, cold arms still managed to wrap themselves around your ribcage where it would squeeze you tightly. 

You knew how to pull yourself through an attack.

You’d learnt breathing techniques.

You’d learnt how to mentally ground yourself.

You’d learnt where to take your mind and how to keep your focus there.

Joe walking past in just a towel wrapped around his hips, bending slightly towards you and shaking his head to get little droplets of water on you broke that focus.

You could feel pressure build in your chest as the ringing in your ears got louder. Joe’d asked you a question. You’d heard him fine. It just took a little longer to answer.

Joe took the silence to mean you were upset.

He pulled a T-shirt out of the wardrobe after stepping into a fresh pair of boxer briefs and let his mind wander, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I, oh shit, did I forget– what day is it? I forgot something important, didn’t I?”

With every passing second, your lungs allowed you less and less oxygen and your peripheral vision got smaller and smaller. Shrunk away from the sides and made you feel like your balance was off.

You gasped for air.

“Hey, are you crying? I’m– I fucked up, didn’t I? What did I do?”

You held an arm out, eyes on the floor where you could see your feet touch the carpet, and you shook your head.

Mistake.

Instantly made you feel dizzy, and nausea introduced itself thickly in your throat.

“No, it’s,” you winced, because, yes you were crying. It was just that the crying was a side-effect of the uneasy sensation of fear that tried to swallow you whole. You knew there was no external reason for it, just something that tricked your body into activating its fight-or-flight response. Made your heart rate pick up until it felt like it was going to break your ribs and escape from your chest. Made your muscles tense up enough to have you shaking all over.

Scared.

You were really fucking scared.

You felt how Joe took hold of the hand you held out for him, and were quick to squeeze.

“Oh my– hey, calm down,”

“Panic,” you managed to squeeze from your throat, hiccuping and gasping through breaths.

What were the techniques?

Think of the techniques.

Breathe in through nose, out through mouth. Focus attention outside of your own body. Think of three things you can see. You can hear. You can smell. Sit and let the symptoms pass on their own. They will pass. This is uncomfortable but not life-threatening. Uncomfortable but not life-threatening. Uncomfortable but not–

Yea, nothing was working.

“Are you having a panic attack?”

You were just going to have to ride this one out.

And Joe was just... he was just useless.

He didn’t know what to do, and so he kind of just... stood there. Got a bit closer as he held the hand that you were currently digging your nails into.

Your eyes found him before they squeezed shut, and you felt how his other hand grabbed onto your bicep. Kneaded the muscles there, squeezed and moved his hand down a bit to squeeze once more.

“Yea, you’re having a panic attack. Right now. Jesus, you’re having a pani– what do I do? What do you– do you need–”

Joe panicked. Did exactly what you didn’t need him doing.

You were still on the up-climb, and everything got steadily worse. Muscles tightening. Vision narrowing still. Heart rate increasing still. You needed... you needed... a parent? Someone to take over, someone who you trusted would know what to do.

“Arms up,” Joe suddenly said, voice a little steadier than before, like he was glad he’d thought of something that would help, that would make breathing a little easier for you.

“Come on, up, over your head.”

He took hold of you by the elbows and pushed both your arms up, which, yes, you knew technically that really should’ve made breathing easier. But your muscles were tensed up, and it hurt your chest, and all your body wanted to do was to curl up into a ball so your face could hide and cry into your knees.

Joe had a hard time fighting your arms that were desperately pulling down, and said, “Slow breaths, slow deep breaths...” whilst trying to demonstrate.

It was of no use.

You were choking on gulps of air.

“Hey. Relax!” Joe made eye-contact, eyebrows raised, like getting a little stern would shock the system into relaxing.

“No,” you sobbed weakly, eyes squeezed firmly shut as you shook your head from side to side. Telling you to relax when you literally couldn’t was the exact opposite of helping.

“No?” Joe immediately went soft again as he let go of your arms, his own eyes wet now too. That same unsure tremor found his voice again as he kneeled in front of you and said, “What do you need? How do you– oh my God, you have to breathe, baby.”

You gestured around wordlessly, gasping through stuttered inhales, and you saw Joe look, frown at it, thinking, deciphering.

“Sit?”

“Hmm,” you nodded, and started shifting, turning on the bed, but Joe’s hands squeezed your thighs and pushed them into the mattress as he got up. He climbed onto the bed, hands not leaving your body once and moved to sit behind you, legs around your hips, arms around your front.

Your hands immediately found his arm to grab and dig nails into, and the added warmth to your back made you let out a short soft hum that almost sounded like a whimper.

“Lean back, I got you,” Joe whispered, his head now resting on your own as he pulled you closer. With your back pressed against his chest, head firmly slotted into place underneath his chin, you could feel your shoulders slump down a little bit.

“Good. Yea, that’s good.” Joe cooed before he softly shushed you, stopping when he heard your throat make a noise.

“Can you,” you start through a shuddering breath, “Squeeze?”

Joe didn’t need asking twice, arms slowly wrapping around further, tentative and careful in case it was all too much, squeezing your ribcage right against his.

It made you sigh.

Feeling pressure from an actual outside source made it easier to accept the constriction of your chest. Made it make sense a little more.

“There you go,” Joe muttered as you sagged into him, your head falling forward for a moment as a small sigh escaped you. “This good? Or do you want it tighter?”

You squeezed fingers into his forearm by ways of answering, heartbeat all chaos.

“Here, pull your knees up, get them in here,” Joe said, reaching, leaning back for a second and taking you with him. You managed to plant both feet onto the mattress, knees drawing up to your chest and Joe reached both arms around, pulling you into him fully.

Yes.

Curled up and hidden.

Compressed into warmth.

This helped.

You sat like that for a while, locked into Joe completely. His grip didn’t waver once, until you’d slowly stopped crying. But even then, Joe wasn’t just going to let go of you easily. He’d let go once he’d be told to do so.

Joe tilted his head to look at you when you started sliding your hands over Joe’s forearms, running slowly up to the hems of the sleeves of his T-shirt where they played with the soft fabric. He could barely see you at all, but he was able to catch the tear stains, the worry-lines, the rosy cheeks.

Made him hug you tighter, squeezing you once more as his face buried into your neck on the side.

“You OK?”

You nodded, small little up and down movements of your head, mostly because you didn’t want to test if your throat felt normal again when you spoke.

“I know you said,” Joe started, softly whispering, not needing to speak any louder, you were so close. “You said you sometimes got unprovoked, what’d you call them? Freak outs?”

You nodded again, breathing slowly, using fingernails to trace lines over the back of Joe’s hand.

“We never talked about what I should do to help when you have one...”

You spasmed on a deeper inhale, before you said, “I know, maybe we should have,” and you tried thinking of what you would’ve told him. What would you have said for Joe to do? Asking him to compress you the way you’d only just managed to do this time was a spur of the moment thing that ended up helping a lot. However, you wouldn’t have known that beforehand.

You noticed Joe had started swaying, rocking back and forth with you.

“This OK?”

“Yea,”

“Is this... was this how it usually goes?”

“Hmm, they normally last longer,”

Your faces were so close, you were fine murmuring in your softest whispers. With Joe’s chin digging into your shoulder now, you exhaled and let your legs fall down, knees over the edge of the bed again. Joe took the moment to shift and get a proper look at your face and you might as well have slapped him right across his.

There was practically nothing left of you.

Tiny.

So fucking small.

“You sure you’re all right?” he asked, entirely unconvinced that you were.

“Tired,”

Yea, Joe could imagine. Look at you.

“Are you all right?” you asked, and Joe had to really try to not pinch you in the side at the sound of your smile seeping through.

“No, that was fucking terrifying,”

You chuckled softly, immediately winced at how sore your muscles felt.

“Sorry,”

“No don’t,” Joe took a sharp breath as he watched his own hand find yours over your front to intertwine fingers together. “Don’t apologise. Just tell me what to do.”

“This was good.”

“Yea?”

“Hmm.”

Joe did so good.

“I think it’s why this one didn’t take so long,” you said quietly, and you felt Joe squeeze your hand as he hugged tighter once more as he actively tried to keep his own tears at bay. Realising that you’d struggled through panic attacks on your own without someone to hold you more often than not, was stupidly heart-breaking.

He thought back to that girl he’d seen cry at school when he was 14 and felt guilty over his lack of empathy then.

“Hey,” you whispered, feeling how Joe was holding his breath, feeling his heartbeat slowly stumble in chaos of its own now.

“Relax,” you repeated Joe from before, same tone of voice, but way softer. It instantly got a huff of laughter from him before he groaned softly and pressed his head against yours.

“Don’t apologise,” you said, full on grinning now, turning your head to look at him. “Just tell me what to do.”

Joe looked at you a second, happy to see you smile, overwhelmed with how you managed to fill his insides with all things soft so strongly.

Fingers took hold of you by the chin and pulled you in closer for a kiss that you hummed into. When Joe was about to pull back, you got him by the neck and lengthened it. Made Joe hum into your mouth in return, until you finally broke and gave each other dopey smiles.

“This was good.” Joe said, mimicking you now.

“Yea?”

All chaos gone.

“Hmm.”

So good.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[mattatouilletkachuk]

Family of Four Coming Soon || Chaos With Quinn

This is a part of The Hockey Babies Au

Chaos With Quinn Au

yourinstagram posted

quinnhughes, elblue6, _eliaspettersson, yourbestfriend and 30,000 other people have liked this post

yourinstagram: twelve weeks down and several more to go until baby #4 is here

Tagged: _quinnhughes

Elblue6: I’m in my grandma era and loving it!

you liked this comment

↳ Jackhughes: who taught you about “eras”?

↳ lhughes06: I did.

_quinnhughes: my little family 😘❤️

You liked this comment

ehtkachuk: I can’t wait to see all four of you this summer. Ryder is gonna be over the moon with all of the other babies around!

Canucks: another little Hughes cheering us on!

Lexiedemko: Ollie looks so happy at the idea of becoming a big brother! 😍

↳ Yourinstagram: I took him with to the first ultrasound and I wish you could have seen how excited he was.

Devilsfan01: AAAHHHH another Hughes baby!! Oliver is already adorable I bet this one will be too!!

yourbestfriend: getting pregnant before your first baby turns 2 years old…. You couldn’t wait huh lol.

↳ Yourinstagram: have you seen my man lol

load more comments….

_quinnhughes posted

yourinstagram, lhughes_06, elblue6, bradytkachuk and 85.000 other people liked this post

_quinnhughes: My girlfriend is glowing, my son is happy and oh yeah, we’re expecting baby number 3.

Tagged: yourinstagram

jackhughes: mamas lookin good hot

↳ _quinnhughes: don’t you have a girlfriend and kid?

↳ mamajhughes: I’ve gotta say, it pains me to agree with Jack, but your girl is lookin fiiiinne

yourinstagram liked this

_eliaspettersson: looks like one got past the goalie

Elblue6: I’m so happy for you two! Oliver is gonna be an amazing big brother!

Canucksfan01: damn he’s like really taken now

↳ Canucksfan02: he’s had a kid with the same woman for almost two years… he’s been taken.

Joshnorris10: congrats man 🎉

Canucks: future draft pick maybe?….

Bradytkachuk: I’m gonna be godfather right?

↳_quinnhughes: idk man am I the godfather to your kid?

lhughes_06: I’ll be counting down the days until I get to see baby #2

yourinstagram: two babies… so when do I get a ring on my finger?

↳ _quinnhughes: that’s for me to know and you to find out

Load more comments…

[P.S: This au is interactive. This story goes where you want it to.]

[romancemedia]

Cartoon Break-Up 2

[marvelsgirl616]

Oh, to see them meet and interact 😩

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Hitters threatening Hackers: go for the fingers.

Leverage S02E03 The Order 23 Job/S04E18 The Last Dam Job.

[harlequin-eldritchkin]

HAMMER HARLEEN AND THE FISTS OF CLOWNING (FREE FACIAL RECONSTRUCTION)

I have been looking for what martial arts Harley Quinn may have learned as she is seen going toe-to-toe with the likes of Catwoman, Nightwing, Batgirl, Lord Death Man, and Batman, to name a few. All that comes up is her backround in gymnastics and learning from the Bat Family, and her aggression and fearless approach of being a wild card. She is a scrapper, but Batman and Nightwing are too skilled to be beaten by a simple scrapper. So, what is her fighting secret?

Source: Pinterest. If you know the artist, please let me know and I will credit their work.

What I am about to present is not canon, and I do my best to stick to canon because this is about Harley Quinn and how she is presented in popular culture and not my fantasies, but martial arts was my first love ♡. I have spent over 30 years training and studying various forms of martial arts from books to learning under local masters, so I have more than a basic understanding of the Fist.

Source: Harley's hammer from a keychain I bought.

First, we all know she had a backround in gymnastics and was a criminal psychologist that worked in Gotham, where crime is the rule and not the exception. With that, before she was the Maiden of Mischief, she was just Dr. Harleen Quinzel, so it would be logical that she took self defense classes. She also grew up in New York and is Jewish, so Krav Maga, an Israeli self-defense art inspired by Israeli military hand-to-hand combat, would make the most sense. Krav Maga is also one of the more popular and efficacious self defense systems in the United States.

Krav Maga uses open hand strikes, clinches, knees, elbows, weapons disarms, and evasion tactics. They also teach eye gouging, throat and groin strikes, as well as grappling defense. Being a military art, it is based on survival and not for sport or beauty like prize fighting or traditional martial arts.

Source: Harley VS. Apokolips

Although she was a gymnast, gymnastics does not teach fighting, but there are martial arts that combine gymnastics and fighting, the most famous being Wushu and Shaolin Kung Fu. There is an ancient kung fu method called Yi Jin Jing, or Muscle Tendon Change Classic, which is influenced by Yoga and combines a mix of flexibility and strength exercises.

Shaolin Kung Fu combines acrobatics, gymnastics, iron body, animal forms, weapons forms, meditation, and Traditional Chinese Medicine. I wouldn't go as far as saying she trained in China, but New York has a large martial arts community and its own Shaolin Temple, so it is a possibility.

Source: Google. Young Sifu Shi Yan Ming training in Shaolin Temple. He runs the New York branch of Shaolin.

Another style that involves acrobatics and kung fu, which is one of my favorite styles, is Drunken Boxing.

It isn't a single style. It is taught to intermediate to advanced students once they have mastered the basics of their style. It has a mix of tumbling, jumping, spinning, flipping, and deceptive tactics and techniques based on the movements of a drunkard.

Sources: Jackie Chan, Drunken Master 2, Gordon Liu, Shaolin Drunken Monk.

Finally, we have her weapons. Her most notable being her bat and (oversized) mallot.

Source: Harley Quinn Animated Series

The Irish have a stick fighting style called "bataireacht" which uses a shillelagh, a hard wood (blackthorn) stick with a natural nob as a handle that is good for hooking and smashing, such as smashing a skull.

Source: irelandjournal.typepad.com

Of course, swinging a bat at someone is a very effective way to end almost any fight.

Source: Harley Screws Up the DCU

[harleenquinntime]

Red is mod and any other color is Harley (till I get universe and stuff together and color code things)

This is just a fun thing I did with my best friend irl Because why not? Interact how you want to! I'll answer any asks when I can and to allow whether you private message me or do it public also to address me just put a purple heart!

Hiya puddins! Thought it would be fun to join Tumblr for a bit! Seems like fun! Plus mista j won't find out about my account. Neither with ivy. So let's have a fun time alright? Promise to not cause you too much trouble 💛♥️💙

Name: Harley Quinn (harleen quinzel)

Age: never ask a lady her age!

Sex: female

Sexuality: pansexual

Mod: 💜 (for now)

Pronouns: she/they