#i love jims reaction as well

[owlfacenightkit]

It’s just. How did they mess up ROTT that badly??

Like. The plot of the movie was basically already covered in Unbecoming. We’ve already seen it play out

How is an almost two hour movie worse than a 23-minute long episode??

[capquinn]

Twenty-five | Q. Hughes

summary: celebrating the birthday boy pairing: reader x quinn hughes content: fluff word count: 1.5k ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s Quinn’s birthday, a milestone that feels both big and small at once. He’s twenty-five today, and while that number doesn’t carry the weight of a major life milestone, it still feels significant — halfway to thirty, a solid mark of adulthood. You’d planned a quiet evening to celebrate, something intimate and close to home. Quinn is quietly disappointed that his brothers couldn’t make it this year, both tied up with their own schedules, but having his parents here makes up for it. It’s just the four of you, gathered together in the cozy warmth of the apartment, and while it’s not the whole family, it still feels special — exactly the kind of celebration he needs.

You had spent the day preparing a homemade dinner, and you’d practically banished him from the kitchen, determined to make it a surprise. The kitchen had been your domain as you chopped vegetables, seasoned meat, and stirred sauces, with Quinn sneaking in every so often, leaning against the counter, stealing bites of food before you could swat his hand away. You had shooed him back into the living room more than once, reminding him that it was his birthday and he was supposed to relax. Not that he listened.

Now, as you all sit together around the small dining table in his apartment, the glow from a few candles casts a soft light across the room. There’s a warmth in the air, a kind of contentment that comes from being surrounded by people who know him well, who love him unconditionally.

Jim is laughing at something you said, Ellen chuckling beside him as she rests her hand on his. Quinn leans back in his chair, watching the interaction with a soft smile, a touch of shyness in his eyes as his parents begin sharing stories from his childhood. Tales that paint him in a more vulnerable light — like how he insisted on sleeping with a nightlight until he was almost ten. He’s trying to play it cool, but you can tell he’s both endeared and slightly embarrassed, glancing at you now and then to gauge your reaction.

“Remember when you were five?” Ellen asks, a playful glint in her eye as she focuses on Quinn. “You insisted on a hockey-themed birthday cake, but you hated the taste of the frosting.”

“Oh, come on, mom,” he groans, ducking his head with a laugh. 

You grin, leaning forward to catch his eye. “Wait, so you asked for a cake you didn’t even want to eat?”

“He just wanted to see the players on the cake,” Jim interjects, shaking his head. “But the second he had a taste, he decided the whole thing wasn’t for him. I think we ended up eating half of it ourselves.”

Ellen winks at you, then nods subtly toward the kitchen, signalling it’s time for the final surprise. You give her a quick smile, and together, you rise from the table, Quinn’s curious gaze following you as you disappear into the kitchen. 

The cake is waiting, just as you’d left it: chocolate with a glossy layer of frosting spread just a bit unevenly across the top. Strands of icing form the words "Happy Quarter of a Century, Quinn” in a looping script that you painstakingly wrote out, and the letters tilt a little at the end. The centrepiece is a dorky “25” candle, its red and white wax standing proudly amidst a scattering of chocolate shavings and sprinkles that you and Ellen had added for good measure. The whole thing looks as much a labour of love, with little imperfections here and there, but it’s endearing, perfectly imperfect — and so very him. 

As you approach the dining table, Ellen flicks off the lights, and together you break into song. Quinn glances up, caught mid-laugh at something his dad said, but his words fall away as he takes in the sight of the cake. His face lights up with surprise and a touch of embarrassment, and he ducks his head with a grin, trying to play it cool even as his cheeks flush in the warm candlelight. 

As you set the cake down in front of him, Quinn’s eyes flicker to the stringy icing and he chuckles, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you into his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you settle in.

“Quarter of a century, huh?” he murmurs, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Makes me sound older than I am.”

You playfully roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “Please, you’re barely mid-twenties. No sympathy from me.”

He grins, his hand resting comfortably on your waist as you both lean into each other. Then, you join in with Ellen and Jim’s singing, your voices mingle in a warm, off-key harmony.

For a second, Quinn is not quite sure what to do with himself. He's used to being in the spotlight, but this feels different — more intense, almost overwhelming. It’s not the roaring crowd at the rink or the flashing cameras; it’s the quiet attention of just a few people, the ones he loves most, their eyes on him with warmth and pride. He shifts a little in his seat, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans his forehead against your shoulder, hiding his blushing cheeks out of view.

“Oh, come on, birthday boy, don’t hide,” you tease. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, fingers brushing through the soft hair there, silently telling him that he’s not alone in this. He laughs, his breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. 

He shifts, glancing up at you with a sheepish grin, his cheeks pink in the candlelight, but the look in his eyes is full of affection. “You didn’t have to go all out,” he murmurs, though the smile he’s trying to suppress gives him away. His hand is firm at your waist, holding you close, and you can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat as you both sway a little to the rhythm of the song.

“Yes, I did,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his, and the warmth in your voice makes his smile grow wider. It’s sweet and quiet between you, the room filled with the gentle hum of the birthday song, but all you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you.

Ellen’s voice is quiet as she finishes the final note. She claps, and then softly says, “make a wish, sweetheart.”

She steps back, giving you both a knowing smile as she takes her seat beside Jim, the two of them watching with that quiet joy only parents seem to have.

“Alright, alright,” he says, straightening up, and you can feel his fingers tighten on your hip as he closes his eyes, pretending to be lost in thought. You can’t help but laugh, and he nudges you with his shoulder, both of you sharing a private smile as he finally leans forward to blow out the candle.

The flame flickers once, then vanishes, leaving only the faint tendrils of smoke curling up from the “25” candle. 

Quinn turns his face to yours, and in the dim light, you can see the soft flush of pink deepening on his cheeks, the happiness in his eyes as he pulls you in a little closer. You’re both still giggling, the joy of the moment filling the space between you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his lips pressing gently against your cheek, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. It’s a gentle touch, barely there, but the warmth of it spreads through you, making your heart swell. You can feel the soft flutter of his breath against your skin, and for a second, everything else fades away.

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer, your cheek resting against the side of his head. It's fleeting but the moment stretches on between you, lingering in the soft space between breaths. His arms around you, your fingers twisting through the ends of his hair — it feels as if you have all the time in the world, wrapped up in each other, letting the rest of the world spin on without you.

From across the table, Jim clears his throat with a teasing grin. “Alright, lovebirds, are we ever getting to that cake, or is it just for show?”

Jim's words break the spell, his teasing grin making you laugh as you glance up. Ellen gives him a nudge, but she’s smiling too, clearly enjoying the moment just as much.

Quinn gives a little chuckle, shaking his head as he glances at his parents with that familiar mix of affection and playful exasperation.

Reluctantly, you pull back, reaching for the knife, and as you do, Quinn’s hand slides up your back to lay at rest between your shoulders. You cut into the cake, the knife slicing through layers of rich chocolate, and as you pass the first piece to Jim, Quinn leans in close again, resting his chin on your shoulder with a contented sigh.

In that moment, surrounded by his parents’ laughter, with Quinn’s arm wrapped around you, it feels as if time itself has paused. You share a quick glance, and the unspoken connection between you is a quiet certainty. Of knowing that these are the moments you’ll cherish — today, tomorrow, and for every birthday still to come.

[imagines4thefandoms]

In Love with the Tats

(This has been in my drafts for a long time)

Warning: Lots of smut

summary: Henry comes home still wearing fake tattoos from his latest movie.

Henry Cavill is a kind and loving man. He is the real-life Superman. And he’s British so he’s automatically very polite and nice to everyone. He looks like an actual bear with all those muscles but he’s really just a giant teddy bear who requires cuddles to function. He usually plays good guys in the movies cause it's who he is. 

Which is why the world lost its mind when Mission Impossible: Fallout came out. Henry “king of nerds” Cavill was a bad guy. Seeing him betray, hurt, and kill was out of pocket and extremely hot. And you were not expecting it. When you started dating you told him not to give you any spoilers from his movies. You wanted to get the whole experience when you saw it at the premiere. Sometimes it backfired like in Dawn of Justice when Superman died, and you were caught off guard but he brought you tissues cause he knew you needed them. And when you got married that promise was in your vows. Maybe cause you told him you would divorce him if he spoiled anything for you. 

So when you watched your husband who can’t hurt a fly try and destroy the world and kill millions, you got turned on. Seeing a darker side of him was very attractive. And every girl can tell you how villains are a lot more attractive than heroes. So when you got home from the premiere you jumped his bones. And for the next 24 hours, you two rarely left the bed for longer than 5 minutes. The phrase fucking like rabbits could have legally changed to fucking like Cavill’s. 

After that when he would look over scripts his agent sent him, you would help him and pick out the role you liked (spoiler if he played the bad guy you liked it). He auditioned for the roles you liked cause he could never say no to you and you would never steer him wrong. And he got the role. You did your civic duty to the world and Henry Cavill was going to be a bad guy again on the silver screen. 

And now while he’s filming you spend all day with your favorite Cavill, Kal. You had gotten a text from your husband saying filming was running late and he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner which didn’t bother you at all. You made a simple pasta dinner and left it on the table cause you didn’t want to eat without him. Usually, when he runs late he gets home around 10 or 11 instead of 6 and you had a big lunch with friends so you didn’t mind waiting. While you waited for him to come home you and Kal sat on the couch watching The Office (American edition). It was the episode with Asian Jim so you were dying laughing over Dwight's reaction. Suddenly the front door opened and you felt a kiss on the top of your head, cause you were too busy to look over at who walked in the house. Though you knew it was Henry. 

“I could have been a robber,” he lightly scorned seeing as the front door was unlocked.

“Well then the robber could finish the episode with me and then take our things,” you teased still not looking at him. 

“You are a pain, love,” he said taking off his jacket and locking the front door. 

Kal, your nice warm cuddle buddy, jumped off the couch and ran to Henry excited that he was home. You turned to scorn your husband for causing your furnace to leave when you took in his appearance. 

“What is that,” you asked him noticing how he was covered in tattoos. Like COVERED. His neck, both arms and his knuckles had ink. 

“I didn’t want to keep the makeup artist there any longer and I told them to leave them til tomorrow,” he explained rubbing behind Kal’s ear. 

When he was met with silence he looked over at you and noticed you were staring. He immediately thought you were turned off. 

“I’ll try to get us to wrap earlier tomorrow so they have time to take it off,” he says grabbing Kal’s leash to take him on a walk. 

“You don’t have to,” you said staring at the tattoo on his neck and biting your lip. 

It suddenly clicked in his mind that you were very much turned on. He smirked at your reaction and bent over to whisper in your ear. 

“I'm going to walk Kal and when I get back I'll show you the rest of them.”

“There’s more,” you gasped finally bringing yourself to look him in the eye. 

He simply replied with a nod and walked back out of the house to walk the dog. Henry might have been gone for only 10 minutes but seeing how you were suddenly very hot and bothered it felt like hours. You were too antsy to move from your spot on the couch and could not for the life of you pay attention to the antics of Jim and Dwight. When Henry finally came back, he sent Kal to lie down in his bed in the living room and threw you over his shoulders to bring you to the bedroom. 

“You are not helping my situation,” you cried out as he threw you on the bed. 

“I'm not in a helping mood,” he replied taking off his shirt. 

His chest was covered in tattoos and scars. There was no bare centimeter of skin. You got on your knees and slowly ran your hand over the art. When you reached his navel he turned around and showed you the back. There was a cross with a rose intertwined with it and blood dripping from the stem. You turned him back around and placed one hand over the skill on his chest and your other hand covered the flames on his neck and brought him down to you for a very firm kiss. His hands went to your waist and he laid you down hovering over you. As soon as you got your legs out from under you they went around his waist to bring him closer to you. The kiss got very heated and sloppy. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck. Your hands alternated between gripping his hair and scratching his back. 

He pulled himself from you and removed the shirt you were wearing leaving your chest bare. He kissed your nose then your lips then your neck and kept traveling til he was right above your shorts. You whined as he slowly took off your shorts and peppered your hips with kisses. When he finally took your shorts off he kissed the inside of your ankle and slowly went up til his nose brushed against your very wet cunt. 

“Hen, please,” you cried as he just kept kissing your inner thigh and letting his mouth hover so close but so far from when you needed him. 

“Where do you need me,” he asked bringing his face back up to yours and staring into your eyes. “Here,” he asked placing a kiss on your neck. You shook your head no. “here,” he asked kissing between your breasts. 

“No,” you cried wiggling beneath him. 

His hands gripped your hips causing your movements to cease and his lips brushed over your right nipple. “Here?” You again shook your head no. and he did the same to your left nipple. He asked the same question and got the same answer. He continued to kiss down your body, your stomach, hips, knee, and ankle but still wouldn’t touch you where you needed him. 

“If you don’t hurry up or I’m going to do it myself,” you cried out. 

“No, you’re not. You are mine, your kisses are mine. Your tears are mine. Your whimpers, moans, and pleas are mine. And for damn sure your orgasms are mine. No one, no toy, not even these beautiful fingers can bring you the pleasure I can,” he said kissing the tip of all ten of your fingers. “They can’t fill you or stretch you the way I can. You will forever be unsatisfied, empty, and cold without my fingers, mouth, and cock to fill you and keep you warm.”

His mouth finally hovered over where you needed him. He could see and smell how turned on you were but still hesitated to do anything about it. “Say it. Say no one can fuck you like I can. Tell me you are mine,” he said staring at you. 

You wiggled and cried and gasped at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. You tried to close your leg to get a little morsel of relief but his hands gripped your thighs and forced them open. 

“Say it,” he said again this time deliberately blowing directly on your clit. 

“Fuck. I’m yours only yours. No one can ever fuck me as good as you do,” you cried trying to close your legs again but not moving them an inch. “Please Hen I can’t take it.”

“Good girl. I’ve got you just relax,” he said before attaching his mouth to your aching cunt and eating you out like a starved man. 

His tongue traveled from your clit to your vagina and back again. He started sucking on your clit but his eyes never left your face. He watched as your eyes closed and face contorted with pleasure. Your hands gripped his hair and you were either trying to pull him away or pushing him in more you didn’t know but a groan left his throat causing you to fall over the edge and cum in his mouth. 

He lapped up the juices and sat back and just admired the mess between your legs. He used his fingers to spread you open so he could get a closer look. He spits in your very exposed cunt and then goes back to eating you like you were a whole meal at a 5-star restaurant. You cried and screamed his name when his teeth gently grazed over your clit. Before you could even come down from your first orgasm the second one hit like a ton of bricks. Your hips lifted off the bed and you screamed his name but he still wasn’t done. When your legs stopped shaking he finally removed his mouth and bruised your lips with a kiss. You let out a moan when you tasted yourself on his lips. 

You opened your eyes and noticed his were filled with a lustful/predatory look. He gently pressed kisses on your nose and lips causing you to laugh. His hand traveled from your neck to your left breast then down til his fingers stopped between your legs. 

“I'm not done with you princess, that was just my mouth. We still have my fingers,” he said pressing two into you without warning causing you to gasp. “And my cock,” he said placing a small kiss on your neck. 

“Fuck Hen,” you cried turning your head away from him. 

“On no princess, I said those are mine. You are going to look in my eyes as you come undone on just my fingers,” he said turning your head towards him.

You couldn’t say a word so you just nodded as your response. He thrust his finger in and out of you so slowly that it was almost painful. “Faster please,” you whined running your hands through his hair and bringing his lips against you. 

“Too impatient, you that much of a whore you can’t wait to drench my finger,” he asked picking up his speed. 

“Oh yes,” you said both at the new pace and his words.

“Yes, what,” he asked pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. “Fuck you taste exquisite.”

You whined at the now empty feeling seeing as you were so close to cumming again. “Yes, I'm your whore please.”

Satisfied with your answer he plunged his fingers into your agains and was fucking you with such a brutal pace that tears fell from your eyes. “That’s my good girl. You're doing so well for me. You're taking my fingers so well, should we add another,” he asked rubbing your clit with his fingers. 

“Yes, Daddy please.”

He inserted another finger and stretched you out. Henry stroked your face when he saw you wince in pain. 

“It's okay baby, Your pussy was made for me. I can feel you gripping my fingers. Do you wanna cum,” he asked kissing your ear. 

“Please,” you whined. 

“Let go, Daddy’s got you,” he whispered. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

The knot in your stomach broke and a wave of ecstasy filled every atom of your body. His finger still fucked you through through your intense orgasm. When you came down he once again removed his fingers. He brought them to your lips and gave them a little tap. 

“Clean my fingers, taste how sweet you taste,” he said looking at you. 

You sucked your cum off his fingers like there was no tomorrow while your eyes never left his. Once you were done he removed his fingers from your mouth and got off the bed to remove his jeans. Out of instinct, you got on your knees in front of him. He unbuckled his pants and pulled both his jeans and boxers down. You were about to take him in your mouth when you noticed more tattoos on his hips and all over his legs. 

Your fingers traced the dragon that covered his entire right leg. From his ankle to his hip. On his left thigh was a wolf’s head with trees around it like it was a forest. Henry let out a growl seeing as were were quite literally leaving him hanging. 

“It's not fun is it,” you retorted letting him think your were punished him for leaving you high and dry earlier. 

“Either you take my cock in your mouth now or I shove it down your throat and fuck you so hard you can’t speak,” he threatened gripping your throat and forcing you to look up. 

You pressed your legs at the thought of him fucking your mouth with such force. He noticed you squirm and he laughed. “You want that, don’t you. You want to wake up tomorrow with a sore throat and remember how I used you for the slut you are.”

You nodded your head and his hands gripped your head and he just stared into your eyes. “Then open up,” he said before he shoved his dick down your throat causing you to gag. Once the shock was over you tried to suck the soul out of him. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as your nails dug into his thighs.

He kept fucking your mouth and made sure that every inch was in. He brought your face to the base of his cock then pulled out completely to give you a breath. His thump traced your lips and pushed the drool from your chin back into your mouth. “My beautiful wife.” Your mouth fell open waiting for him to shove his cock back down your throat. Henry let out a laugh before giving you what you wanted. The pace he was going was brutal but beautiful at the same time. 

You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure at the feeling of your mouth. The sound of his balls slapping your chin filled your ears making your legs squeeze together. Henry’s hands cradled your face as he forced his cock as far down your throat as he could reach and he just held you there. When your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of him he quickly pulled himself out. 

“If I’m going to cum anywhere,” he said pulling you to him, “it’s going to be in this pussy.”

Henry’s hand stroked you clit one more time before he gently pushed you down on the bed. You tried to scoot up to the pillows but, Henry grabbed your ankles and dragged you back down til your ass was almost off the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your nose before plunging deep into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck,” you yelled dragging your nails down his back. 

Henry pounded into you at an alarming pace causing you to slowly move up the bed. “I'm gonna,” you yelled before his lips attacked yours. The orgasm ripped through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably and your bones felt like mush. But Henry didn’t stop. His pace was speeding up like he was chasing his own pleasure. 

“I can’t,” you cried moving your head side to side. 

“Yes, you can baby. Just one more,” he said kissing your shoulder. “I'm almost there, you’re doing such a good job.”

Your head is still shaking from the overstimulation. His hands went from your waist to your painfully throbbing clit. “Please,” you cried when he roughly pinched it. He ignored your cries and just focused on your clit. You tried moving away but his other hand moved to your throat. “I know baby. But I know you have one more. Please I need you,” he pleaded as his strokes slowed down. You slowly nodded your head and he forcefully kissed you again. He removed his hand from your throat and went back to your thigh. Henry gave you a little squeeze before moving your legs over his shoulders. 

At this angle, you could swear you felt more of him. He slammed into you over and over again. “Cum with me baby,” he said bending you practically if half so he could kiss you. His movements stopped and his head fell to your shoulder as he came. “Fuck,” he yelled once he emptied his entire load. He stayed in you for a minute to catch his breath. 

“I love you,” he said whipping the sweat off your brow. 

You winced when he slowly removed himself. “I love you too,” you said when he walked into the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he ran the warm cloth over your abused cunt you flenched in pain. “Fuck, did I hurt you,” he asked kissing your knee. You shook your head and pulled him up to you. “Just very sore. Can you just hold me,” you asked.

He rolled off you and laid on his back with his arm extended waiting for you to move at your own pace. While your head rested on his chest, he rubbed small circles on your lower back. 

“So you want me to keep these tomorrow too,” he asked mumbling into your hair. You let out a laugh and slapped his stomach. “God no, I can’t survive another night like this tomorrow,” you said moving to look up at him. “But definitely next week,” you said with a smile.

[m1ssunderstanding]

My thoughts on Beatles 64

Am I a terrible person or something because I’m genuinely having such a hard time wrapping my head around these people’s reactions to their president getting shot. Like I can count on one hand the people I’d give a fuck about in DC and I’m not crying if that happens. I’m angry. I’m scared. But I’m not sad.

Who is this covering all my loving? It’s pretty.

I will forever love Paul and George’s big and little brother dynamic. Deep, cloudy scouse: they’re in perfect synchronization. Bright, squeaky scouse: Are they? Like, where is George’s little chimney sweep costume?!

And Paul’s sharp tone calling John’s name. I don’t know, I could obsess over any little scrap of footage of them. I just love picking apart details that reveal dynamics.

George’s insecure, curious, “Are you filming now?” Compared to his over-it, sardonic, “Are you recording our conversation?” He aged about twenty years between 64 and 69.

John’s reaction to his own voice in his ears is always a straight shot of joy.

I like that they’re showing all the boys. You know, because if only girls like them, then they’re just a silly pop group, but if boys like them too, well. That’s something else, isn’t it?

One of my favorite moments. No wonder Paul took so well to shepherding. His blood pressure spiking if John gets out of arm's reach. And John is of course so happy to be pulled back in.

Their hair really was so fluffy!

John spreads his legs when he’s playing because he’s an anxious attachment. Paul keeps his legs closed because he’s avoidant. In this essay I will.

This mix of She Loves You is really highlighting Ringo’s drumming for me. He’s so talented and attractive.

This is why Paul’s my favorite, genuinely. Because he goes from the most polite, people-pleasing, tender-heart to an absolute mean girl cunty bitch in the span of less than a second.

Ringo is the quickest wit, I’m telling you, and if anyone says otherwise, I’m cancelling you for classism.

Why is it always Paul these middle aged creeps feel the need to touch? I mean, I know why. But it makes me sick. That kind of thing is reserved for the mutuals. Definitely not cops.

It’s literally sooooo funny for me seeing this guy choke up about She Loves You. Like I’m genuinely happy for him, but I was literally just over at my husband’s grandparents double-wide and they Still go on about how stupid the Beatles haircuts were and how they remember the days before the Beatles when there was ‘real’ rock and roll on the radio.

So, Paul’s been telling the story of Jim critiquing She Loves You for literally sixty years now, and originally it was with mix-ins from John and George and without a lot of artificial sweeteners. Here’s the sixty-year-old version:

Back home in Liverpool, we used to sing over some of our songs to relatives—I did to my Dad and my aunties,” he recalled. “My Dad would look at me looking disappointed. ‘I don’t know young Paul,’ he’d say. ‘I try to get you to speak properly, and you drop your aitches. Why sing ‘Yeah, Yeah’ when you mean ‘Yes, Yes?’ I tried to explain this was the whole point of the song,” Paul continued. John broke in: “Anyone ever heard someone from Liverpool singing ‘Yes’? It’s YEAH.” Paul continued: “Well, we just laughed. My Dad gave us some of the worst advice ever. He said this music thing will never last. It’s all right on the side, he’d say, BUT PAUL IT WILL NEVER LAST!” “Remember,” said George, “he always wanted us to sing ‘Stairway to Paradise’?” – Ray Coleman article 1964

What a cutie. Shouldn't be allowed.

“That wasn’t really the case.” (that America was the land of the free). He always almost gets to his political views. You know? Microdosing? Left-bating? Maybe both. Whatever.

I LOVE their funny little accents with all my heart. John does posh scarily well.

Ringoooooooo!

“Go on! Defy convention!” Quotes that define the speaker. He should sell t-shirts with that slogan.

This girl’s Brooklyn accent and her confidence are so beautiful!

Why did they buy John an ID I’m actually dying! Oh! They don’t mean, they mean like Paul’s and Ringo’s bracelets. Got it. Okay. I was like ‘are you trying to help him ten years in advance with his immigration struggle?’

The juilliard girl is phenomenal.

I want the nylons and I want the shoes.

“Would you do me a tremendous favor?” “I’m not gonna kiss you like Elisabeth Taylor.” See? Ringo is the funny one. Ringo is so fucking sharp and nobody gives him the credit he’s due.

Ronnie Spector you deserved better, Queen! I love her. She’s so gorgeous, she’s so cool, she’s so young and energetic!

Two excellent Lennonisms right in a row. “Have you been watching the newsies?” and “I don’t care,” I say as I care caringly. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he has the most sunshiny smile in the Beatles.

Ringoooooo!

Not the picture of JohnandPaul singing together as “with lovers and friends” plays.

Love Paul offering Ringo a candy. In yet another accent. People need to make them talk in goofy accents more in fic because it’s incessant. But I just love them offering each other food. It’ll always get me.

See, this is what I love about John. “People have been tryna stamp out rock and roll since it started.” “Why do you think that is? What are they afraid of?” “I always thought it was cause it came from black music.” He’s not ‘honest to a fault’ or whatever the boomer men love to say. But he’s very, very blunt, and he’s not going to try and skirt anything. You know?

Literally the most embarrassing thing a person can ever be is white.

“I thought it was very weak. You know what I think, I call a spade a spade. I thought it was weaker than weak.” Cook him! And then the mimicking! I love him so much! Holy shit, that would’ve been so enraging.

And then the quiet sass of the guy being interviewed right after. “Well, the versatility, the originality. I like anything that’s original.” I love some clever tumblr web-weaving in my documentaries.

In my husband’s grandparent’s defense, the “real rock and roll” they loved before the Beatles was literally only black artists.

I love this picture for ever. Look at how tight he’s holding on to John with one hand and the other hand raised in joyous triumph, engagement bracelet visible. This is Paul in heaven.

“The whole assumption of male vs female is not prominent. They’re sort of in-between.” Yes. Love. Keep going.

Ringo’s got all the quips, again. “Ringo, look over here!” Puts his hands up. “Don’t shoot!”

I didn’t know Smokey Robinson and the Miracles went to the Cavern, that’s cool! And here I was thinking I wouldn’t learn anything new from this doc. His whole interview is very lovely and generous.

I always think “You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me” probably spoke to John in terms of his relationship with Paul, but I go there so easily. Anyway, Smokey Robinson had every right to be pissed that they released a cover of his song without even asking. Like that would be illegal nowadays, right? And yet he’s so kind about it.

We talk about how scary Beatlemania was and we should because it was, but it really puts it in perspective for me personally hearing Smokey say he was shot at for trying to use the bathroom.

Oh I love that we have footage of Paul taking Ringo’s picture! Makes me think of “eye of the storm” obviously, but also the way he’s mocking the photographer's jargon of the time as he’s doing it. The fact that he ended up marrying a photographer who made a point to depict him as not just “some doe eyed sex object” in her pictures, and also of his song “pretty boys” and his quotes about the sexualization of “male models”. Definitely not about anything he himself experienced. Anyway, thoughts. Strings. Pins. Etc.

Also Ringo turning to the camera still filming him, “what do you think I am, a monkey?” Remember that part in this footage where Ringo says something like, “are we ever going to have a break from all these cameras?” And he’s exhausted. It really seems like, from the footage selected by this doc at least, that Paul and Ringo were doing the bulk of the lifting at this time just with cooperating with the show biz stuff. And isn’t that (interesting? Sad? Poetic? Good?) that they’re the ones still cooperating sixty years later.

How dare they cut out “but we ain’t written no poetry!”

As John’s panicking, “how are we gonna – have you seen the kids? How are we gonna get in, then?” Paul’s just calmly going, “Hi girls!” With a patient smile and a cute little wave. “I’ll just go in and speak to the people first, okay?” I love Paul “calming-down-other-people’s-hysteria-is-my-calling-in-life” McCartney.

Cute, George introducing a song he’ll do a viral backflip to in twenty years.

I wonder what that letter is. John’s being very tender with it.

“You’re fired!” “It’s Love Me Do, whacker!” With the sweetest most innocent smile. I love when John is John, you know?

“To me they’re all obviously low or middle class, highly illiterate, unintelligent wild kids seeking a little fun and pleasure . . . I think there’s something very strange about it at the same time, something very sick. . . . I’m sure that sexual reasons have something to do with it. They find the Beatles sexually attractive and they’ve made some kind of psychological tie with them. I think the whole thing’s a little bit frightening and quite sick.” Where’s that old meme with Trump describing the democrats in the most hateful terms he can think of and people being like “yep that’s me”?

Paul stopping to say goodbye by name to each of the people who've been in their hotel room one by one. It’s giving *Opra voice* “and you please don’t hate us and you please dont hate us and you please don’t hate us”

Ringo coming back because he went the wrong way is the most me-core thing.

Paul will come in with the random shouts and yelling in the middle of a song he’s singing lead on all the way from the very beginning and all the way to the very very end, huh.

I just get filled with so much rage at this image of the Bernstein family, especially after the footage of the Gonzalezes. Like, I know I need therapy. I know. But it costs money. Anyway, all rich people can go straight to hell. “I was allowed to wheel the TV set down from the library, down the corridor and into the dining room.” Oh, were you! Well, you must be very special, then.

I wonder if Paul’s title of his exhibition has anything to do with this quote from John about “It was like being in the eye of a hurricane.”

The girl hanging on Ringo like a jungle-gym is me. I love the way he flirts, it’s so smooth, physical, casual.

Classic John moment and he doesn’t even open his mouth.

My dearest wish is that these two are happily married now, holding hands in the theater watching this.

The voice of the woman asking Paul “what do you think of the American TV” sounded extremely like Linda’s. I sort of panicked for a second. Linda’s voice is lower, but the accent and cadence and the sort of wealthy slouch is the same.

I love them picking up on the dystopian beginnings of America’s version of late-stage capitalism and broadcasting the ridiculousness of it all to a public that didn’t know any different. “The situation in China is very bad. Have you ever wondered, when you’re eating at home?”

The guys setting up wearing Beatles wigs? Ew. Why?

Ringo’s so funny! “Watch any band. If anything goes wrong, they go – Blame the drummer.” And he’s so endearing and sweet. “I just always wanted to be IN the band, not like ‘oh, I’m over here.’” Reminds me of his quote about being lonely as an only child and ending up with three brothers. What a tenderheart.

Huh. Always thought some idiots just set up his rostrum backwards. The rest of the stage spinning around it makes much more sense.

That little smile between the two of them.

George in tears! Poor baby! I really do think, with the way this affected him on another level than it affected the others, and with the way he talked about his experiences at the Inny compared to Paul (not that you can trust Paul to say anything actually gets to him) that George maybe was more sensitive to classism than the others.

I hope Paul said something to that affect to George after. “They’re working at an embassy. We’re on the road, rocking. I don’t give a flying fuck.” You know? I could see it.

Another thing I love about John. You need that guy on your team, whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish. That when people are being bitchy, you tell them to fuck off and you leave. I bet Paul, George, and Ringo were so relieved that John did that for them.

After Ringo talked about not wanting to be back behind and separate from the band, I’ve noticed all three of them stepping back sometimes to stand more in line with him when they’re not singing. I don’t know if it was conscious or natural, but either way, I love that they did that and I’m sure Ringo did too.

The looks and smiles

I usually maintain that Paul is only sexy from 60-61 and from 68-98 and from 18-now. But. This is just objectively hot, I don’t care who you are.

It’s so sweet to see George being such a ham, getting John to do silly bits with him, putting on a waiter’s uniform and passing out drinks, climbing up in the luggage compartment. I wish they could’ve somehow kept it at a pace that was manageable for him so he could’ve kept on being so happy with his life, you know? I mean it’s not like it just disappears completely. There’s some of it in Get Back and even in Anthology, but it’s just not the same.

This is what happens when you’re a slut, Paul. You get paternity suits that ruin your mood. Shame, shame.

Interesting that Paul points out Brian’s “defying convention” by having them play their scandalous rock and roll shows in all these “hallowed halls”. I’d never thought about it as Brian’s conscious decision but obviously it must’ve been, and that’s very clever and snarky of him.

“That man, who is strong enough to be gentle, that is a new man.” Betty Friedan is pro-beatle. We love to see it!

Watching Paul try to behave like a human being on stage with all of his early twenties energy is honestly painful. It’s like Kurt Vonnegut’s Harrison Bergeron, you know? Like I can just see him aching to let himself free, but there are weights put in place for a reason. I know Brian was right to calm them down, and this documentary is proof that if he hadn’t done his taming, either they never would’ve made it or there would’ve been all-out class warfare or something, but it breaks my heart, it really does.

Ronald Isley, again, just like Smokey Robinson, being so so charitable here, and managing to do so without playing down the fact that things were absolutely rigged against him and his group at the time. “We should be on the Ed Sullivan show doing . . .” Yes. Yes.

I looked it up, and this quote is genuine. “If it wasn’t for the isley brothers, we would still be in Liverpool.” – Paul McCartney. That’s one thing I love about him. He’s always giving – very much due – credit to his black contemporaries. People ask him about Elvis and he always says, “yes, and Little Richard.” People say he was the most innovative bass player of his time and he says, “yes, and Fred Thomas.”

Ringo literally gets me every time. George: I don’t remember Wales. Ringo: It was before you joined the group.

The way Paul talks about George living “the good life” is very much in the tone of an older brother who’s helped his little brother do well for himself, you know? It’s adorable.

Of course Paul’s out feeding seagulls.

Not even going to comment on the “i love you” thing. Nope.

Okay I do have to say, the end of this guy’s story about going to liverpool and getting deported is incredibly sweet. I was kind of ignoring him, and then when he said he met John during Imagine, I sort of braced myself. But it turned out absolutely adorable. I love John’s little antenna miming and that he promoted this guy just for having made the front page of the Liverpool Echo. It’s all very John, very endearing.

I hope Paul and this weepy old guy had a talk about healing yourself from abuse through music. There’s like a 1/100 chance, but I still hope they did.

John loves a good boat analogy, doesn’t he? “There was a ship going to discover the new world. And the beatles were in the crows nest on the same ship [as everyone else] and we just said ‘land ho!’

Love the use of “Roll Over Beethoven” as the final song.

[cupidbedsy]

𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 | 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♔

➪ summary: after the first incident of her getting sick, her brothers are on high alert for when the time comes again. but what happens when they're all away and she gets sick when she's alone? | based on taylor swift's 'safe and sound'

➪ warnings: reader is sick, throwing up, blood, hospitals, swearing

➪ word count: 3.0k

➪ file type: song based fic

➪ sunny's notes: i have mixed feelings about this fic because... well if you know what happened with this you know what happened. i am extremely proud of it though especially because i wrote it in one night and the person who this is based off of absolutely loved it when i posted it the first time as well

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

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'I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said don't leave me here along But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight'

She was five when she got severely sick the first time and she was terrified. She woke up feeling warm and cold at the same time, her throat was scratchy and dry, and her eyes were watery but she didn’t know if it was because she was scared or if it was just a reaction, and her energy was slim to nonexistent which was scared Ellen and Jim.

By now, their sons would’ve scooped the youngest child out of her bedroom and made their way downstairs to watch something on TV or just play with her. Yet, it was dead silent in the house. Ellen got up from the bed and peeked into each of her son’s rooms and was relieved to find that they were asleep still. 

She hoped the same for her daughter but when she walked into the room and saw her five-year-old in tears sitting on her bed, she rushed over.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Mommy!” She let out a loud cry alarming Jim and he came rushing in as well, not noticing the eldest Hughes child in tow. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m here, your brothers are still sleeping, let’s not wake them up. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good.” She sniffled and quieted her voice.

Ellen picked her up and placed her daughter on her lap as she sat down, “Jim go get the-” 

Before she even finished, y/n leaned over and threw up, trying not to get it on Ellen, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, hon. Jim, go get the thermometer.”

Jim quickly walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom but got stopped as he ran into his son, “Quinn! Morning.”

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Your sister’s sick, it’s probably nothing.”

Quinn’s face went pale, “Is she okay? Does she have a fever? Is she throwing up?”

“Quinn! Calm down. I promise you, it’s probably just a little cold. You can go see her if you want, Mom is in there with her.”

Quinn walked into the room to see Ellen hugging y/n. He took one step and Ellen turned to him, “Hi, Quinn.”

“How is she?”

“It’s most likely just a cold. Y/n/n, look who’s here.” She directed her head to her son and pointed to him, “Quinny!”

She reached her arms out for him and Quinn gladly took her, placing her on his hip, “Hi baby bear.”

“I no feel good, Quinny.” Quinn nodded his head, “I know but we’re gonna make you feel better, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Jim walked back into the room, placing the thermometer under the girl’s tongue. Seconds later it beeped and Jim took it out of her mount, “40.6/104”

The parents sigh and start to walk out, “Quinn if you don’t mind can you get her ready quickly, we’re gonna need to go to the hospital.”

Quinn nodded his head and he walked over to his sister’s closet, “Whatcha wanna wear, sweetheart?” Y/n lazily pointed to her brown bear sweatshirt and snuggled her head back into her brother’s chest. Quinn got her ready and sat her on her bed so he could put her shoes on. 

“Quinny?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“Of course, not y/n/n. I’m never going to let you go.”

Jack and Luke had both heard the rustling from outside their rooms and they both stepped out into the hallway, “What’s going on?”

Jack shrugged, “No clue, bro. I’m so tired.” The boy saw his sister’s door open and walked in there.

By now, Quinn was sitting on her bed and y/n was lying in his arms, “What’s going on?”

“She’s sick.” Jack and Luke immediately wake up at the news and rush over, spitting out questions left and right.

“She’s got a fever but that’s all I know right now. Mom and Dad are taking her to the hospital.”

“The hospital?!”

“I wanna go.” Luke protests just as their parents walk back into the room, fully dressed, “Oh, good morning you two.”

“Can we go with?”

“Guys, the three of you can’t come with.”

“Please, mommy.” Y/n’s little voice spoke up from her brother’s lap.

Ellen sighed, “Fine. But if you guys aren’t out there in five minutes, dressed, then we’re leaving without you.”

Ellen reached over and grabbed her daughter, the three of them heading out to the car to wait for their sons.

『••✎••』

In the hospital, Jim and Ellen were the only ones allowed to go back with her at least for now, and y/n let her voice be heard. She cried and cried until they relented and let one of them go back with the two. She reached for Quinn immediately and he nodded his head and followed behind his mom and sister, Jim staying with the other two. 

When they got home, the boys sat at the kitchen table as Jim tried to give y/n her medicine, “I don’t want to.”

“I know you don’t want to, honey, but you have to. Don’t you want to feel better?”

“Jacky.”

Jack’s head popped up from where he sat and looked at her, “Yeah?”

Y/n pointed to her medicine and then to Jack and glared, “You want Jack to give you your medicine?”

She nodded with purpose and Jim happily gave the medicine to his middle son, “All yours, Jack.”

Jack didn’t complain, it meant that she trusted him and he loved that feeling. Jack poured the liquid into the small cup to the correct fill line and put it near his sister’s mouth. She took it without a hassle and from the corner of his eyes he could see his father throw his hands up in defeat causing everyone to chuckle.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

'Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound'

Later that night, y/n lay in bed by herself, looking at the wall. Her stomach hurt and she let out a barely audible whine. Luke, who happened to be walking by, heard it and peeked his head into the room, “You doing okay, baby bear?”

“No.”

Luke walked fully into the room and sat on his little sister’s bed, “What’s wrong?”

“Stomach. Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, I will.” Luke laid down next to her and she curled into him, “Thank you.”

Luke looked confused, “For what?”

“For making me feel safe. All three of you.”

Luke awed internally, trying not to let tears fall down his face, “No need to thank me for that.”

Five minutes passed and Jack and Quinn got down waiting for their brother, getting up to see where he was. When they saw him lying in y/n’s bed, they made their way over to them, “You guys okay?”

There was no answer as both of them had fallen asleep. Quinn told Jack to stay there as he walked out to grab some pillows and blankets and brought them back to him. The two made their makeshift beds on the ground and fell asleep not long after.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

‘Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound’

Ever since then, it was common that y/n had to go to the hospital. As the boys got older, they got more worried. They were busier, Quinn went to college and eventually, he and Jack made the NHL. Luke went off to college and this year he started his official rookie season with the Devils. 

However, it wasn’t as often that it happened when they were away, and if it did it wasn’t as bad as having to go to the hospital, just more or less the doctor’s office. They weren’t as worried about her when this happened, getting texts from either there or their parents and calling them to make sure she was okay.

This time was different. Ellen and Jim had run out to grab a few things for dinner and they left y/n at home alone, because she was 16 and was capable of being by herself. Yet, in hindsight, they probably shouldn't have. 

They had been gone for twenty minutes already and she thought they wouldn’t be much longer and she could hold on. But she couldn’t. Every couple of minutes it felt like she had a coughing attack, but this last one, blood came up with it. 

Wasting no time she dialed the first person that came up on her contacts, Luke. 

“Lukey.”

“Hey, y/n/n! What’s up?”

She was glad they didn’t have a game today, otherwise she’d be totally screwed. 

“Lukey, I’m scared.”

“You’re scared? Why? What’s wrong?” Luke stood up from his bed and made his way out of his room and towards Jack’s. 

He didn’t knock on the door before entering which left Jack to somewhat argue with him about knocking before entering, not that he was doing anything, but manners, you know? 

“It’s so bad. Really bad.”

“Well, where’s mom and dad? How bad are we talking?” Jack’s interest peaked at the mention of his parents and scrambled to sit next to his younger brother on his bed, motioning for him to put it on speaker. Luke pressed the button and pulled his phone away from his ear, waiting for the girl to talk. 

“They went out to grab-” She took a pause before coughing some more. Jack and Luke looked at each other worriedly, “Y/n?”

“Oh god. There’s more.”

“More what?” Jack inquired, nervousness settling at the bottom of his stomach, “More blood.”

The three were silent, y/n trying not to freak out and Jack and Luke trying not to freak her out. It was quiet for a couple of minutes before the oldest of the three-spoke up, “When are Mom and Dad going to be home?”

As soon as she went to say her answer the front door clicked and y/n rushed downstairs, “Dad! Mom!”

She threw her phone on the counter and Luke turned the volume all the way up in an effort to hear the conversation, “What? What’s wrong?”

“I threw up some blood.” 

“Oh my. Get in the car, I’ll meet you two there.” Jim rushed y/n to the car and Ellen ran around the house gathering a few things in case they were there for a while. 

Jack and Luke were freaking out, “Dad, what’s going on? Mom? Y/n?” Ellen spied her daughter’s phone on the counter and looked at it curiously seeing her son’s contact name on it, “Luke?”

“Mom, what is happening?”

“We’re taking her to the hospital. How long ago did she call you?”

“I don’t know like five minutes ago maybe?” Luke’s voice broke as he explained to his mom, Jack placing a hand on his back. 

“I want you to call, Quinn-”

“No!” Y/n interrupted her mom as she got into the passenger seat, “What do you mean no?”

“He has a game, please.”

“Honey, I think you are more important to him than the game. Let Luke and Jack call him.” Ellen’s voice was stern as Jim pulled out of the driveway.

“If you’re gonna call him, let me talk to him.”

Ellen, and the boys, went to protest but y/n’s face showed desperation, “Fine. We’ll call you two back when we have answers.”

“Don’t bother. We’re already packing.” 

As Ellen and y/n were squabbling, Jack ushered his younger brother to his room and told him to go back and he left his phone in his room. Jack pulled his suitcase out of his closet and was halfway finished packing when they acknowledged the two again.

“There’s no need-”

“You’re not winning this y/n/n. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Jack hung up and finished packing, meeting Luke and in ten minutes, they were on their way to the airport. 

Meanwhile, y/n had dialed Quinn’s contact, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. It was an hour before the game was supposed to start and she had no idea if he would actually answer or not, but to her luck, he did.

“Quinn.”

“Hey, y/n/n. What's up? Need help with some homework?”

“I’m going to the hospital.”

Quinn dropped his stick as he stood in the locker room, some of his teammates glancing at him worriedly, “What is it?”

“Same old, same old, but this-” Her sentence was interrupted by another coughing attack and Quinn could hear their mother telling her to take it easy in the background. 

“What do you mean it’s worse?” Quinn didn’t need her to finish the sentence for him to know what she meant.

Elias was standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder to ground him in case anything got out of hand, “I coughed up some blood.”

“You what?!” Quinn’s voice echoed through the clubhouse, “Quinn what’s wrong?”

The boy shushed his teammates, “Quinn, I’m probably fine-”

“If you’re coughing up blood you are not fine. Do Mom and Dad know? Do Jack and Luke?”

“Yes, Mom and Dad know, you idiot. Who do you think is taking me to the hospital? And yes the other two know, I already called them. I didn’t want to call you because you have a game.”

“I couldn’t care less about the game when my little sister calls and tells me she’s on the way to the hospital. Let me talk to coach, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Quinn, no-”

“Nope, la la la la. Blah blah blah. I’m coming. Give the phone to mom.”

“But-”

“No.”

Y/n reluctantly handed the phone to her mom but as she extended her hand, her arm dropped and the phone clattered to the ground. The only thing Quinn could hear was the faint yelling of his sister’s name from his mom. 

『••✎••』

Y/n was lying in the hospital bed when Jack and Luke watched the only show that was on this late at night, Family Feud. She was trying to answer but every time she went to speak she’d start coughing. The two ran in just as y/n’s previous coughing attack had subsided and she was now glaring at the TV because someone said a stupid answer.

“I said sex first, asshole. But no one wanted to listen to me.” 

“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“Jacky! Lu!” Y/n had a dopey smile on her face as she saw her brothers. They couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or if she was just being herself.

“Hey, baby bear. How you feeling?”

“Mom, can I swear?”

Jack laughed, “Aren’t you the one who just called someone an asshole?”

“Mom! Jack’s being mean.”

“Jack, stop torturing your sister and yes, y/n, you can swear.”

“I feel like shit.” Luke nodded, the only one who seemed to have sympathy for the girl right now, “What did the doctor say?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening.”

Ellen and Jim explained how it wasn’t a big thing and that she should be able to go home in a couple of hours or so. The two stayed with her until she was discharged and drove home with the three where Luke carried her upstairs to her room because she fell asleep on the way home. 

That’s where Quinn found them when he got there, Jack and Luke on either side of her in her bed as they watched the Game Show Network. One of the many stuffed animals that Quinn had gotten her wrapped in her arms against her chest. 

“Hey guys.”

“Quinn! You’re here.”

“Of course, I’m here. I couldn’t let those two take care of you.”

Jack and Luke feigned offense at the eldest child but Jack moved over so Quinn could sit where he previously was, knowing y/n always chose to be close to him when she was sick. 

“You doing okay?”

“Could be better, but I’m happy you’re here.”

“I’m never letting you go, none of us are.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

It was something the three had already talked about, they had already talked to their coaches and were scratched from their next couple of games because their sister needed him. 

Y/n spent the rest of the night surrounded by her brothers feeling safe and sound.

⬂ 𝗛𝘂𝗴𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

@zebraszegras | @ru-kru | @alwaysclassyeagle | @flowergirl1134 | @puckslxt | @ivy-34 | @kei943

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[wandascosmic]

she's cheer captain (5)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

part five of 'you belong with me' series

summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office

word count: 3595

tags: best friends to lovers, slowburn, reader is in love with wanda, wanda's as oblivious as ever but loves reader so much, in a friends way, pining, a whole basketball game, reader is a pro basketball player actually, except i don't know anything about basketball so this is the best i could do, minor injury, minor mention of blood, vision sucks

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

“No, I know the warranty’s expired but isn’t it supposed to last longer than two years if it isn’t defective?” you overhear Wanda say on the phone. “Ok, 3 years then.” 

Furrowing your brows, you make your way over to her desk to ask what’s wrong, seeing Wanda anxiously biting the nail of her thumb. 

“Hey, Maximoff, what’s up?” you ask softly, Wanda’s head jerking up at the sound of your voice, her eyes softening once she sees you. 

“Hey,” she mumbles dejectedly. “Um, the toaster oven I got at my engagement shower broke,” she laughs awkwardly. “And I know it’s silly, but..” 

The toaster oven you got at your engagement shower 3 years ago. For a wedding that still has yet to be set. “No, I understand,” you offer her a reassuring smile. 

Wanda smiles back gratefully.  

Drumming your fingers on the desk, you ask, “Are you ready for the basketball game against the warehouse staff today?” 

Wanda groans, leaning back against her chair. “It’s not gonna end well.” 

You laugh. “Wow, Maximoff. For Tony’s designated cheerleader for today, you’re quite negative,” you tease.  

Wanda laughs as well. “That was Sam’s idea so he could suck up to Tony.” She shakes her head. “And besides, I declined because I can’t cheer against Vis.” 

Your smile falls for a split second. 

“Yeah, I guess not.” 

***

“Attention, everyone,” Tony announces coming out of his office. 

You swivel in your chair to face him, leaning your head on your hand. 

“Corporate just called me to let me know that we need staff to come in on Saturday,” he says, making the office staff groan collectively. 

“Yeah, that was my reaction too,” he mutters. “Anyways, they let me know that the basketball game later today against the warehouse staff can be used to decide who comes in and who will stay home, and I agreed.  So those of you playing, you better win, because I refuse to come in on a Saturday,” Tony says menacingly before going back into his office.  

“Wait, Tony, we still need a cheerleader!” Sam yells as he runs after him, but Tony ignores him, shutting the door in his face. “Wanda, I still think it should be you.” He says, turning to the receptionist. 

“No, Sam,” she declines once more, dialing a number on the desk phone and putting it up to her ear. “I can’t cheer against my fiance.” 

“I’ll do it,” you say, making Sam and Wanda look at you curiously. 

Sam turns around and narrows his eyes at you. 

“You know, wear a little flouncy skirt and what-not,” you say seriously. 

Wanda snickers quietly at your joke. 

“Yeah, right, Y/N,” Sam grumbles. 

“Oh, yeah,” you rub your chin with your pointer finger and thumb. “I forgot I’ll be busy playing on the team, and you’re benched for nearly setting the building on fire last year after losing in foosball.” 

***

You were actually looking forward to playing on the team. It’s been a while since you had played basketball, but you had been on your high school team for all four years and it was something that had kind of become your thing. Plus, you may or may not have the motivation of impressing a certain green-eyed brunette.  

“Are you coming down?” you ask Wanda as you tie up your running shoes in the chair across from her. 

“Yeah, I’m just forwarding the phones,” Wanda answers, pressing a few buttons absentmindedly. 

“You gonna wish me luck?” you ask. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna need it,” Wanda returns, her mouth opening in fake shock as you laugh at her.  

“No way, is that trash-talk from Wanda?” you tease. 

“I’m just saying, Vision is very competitive,” she tells you with a shrug. “And, he wants to take the waverunners to the lake this Saturday, so..” Wanda tilts her head in a teasing manner. 

“Wow,” you say wistfully with a shake of your head. “Well, I’m going to the outlet mall on Saturday,” you respond as if you were rather conflicted. “So if you wanna save big on brand names and Vision has to work,” you pause to give her a teasing smile making her let out a laugh. “Which he will, because I’m also competitive.” Wanda raises her eyebrow slightly at the challenge. “You should feel free to come along,” you invite.    

Wanda ponders for a moment, tapping her chin in deep thought. “Um, I think I’m gonna be up at the lake,” she answers with a smirk.

You narrow your eyes at her with a smile. “I think I’ll see you at the mall, Maximoff.” 

Wanda laughs. 

***

Sam had somehow convinced Tony to let him play on the team despite his history of quick-tempered overreactions, you didn’t know how he did it, but you suspect it might have to do with the half-eaten chocolates you saw in Tony’s office through the window which weren’t there in the morning. 

Now, your team consists of you, Sam, Tony, Nat, and Peter, who joined last week as the new intern. 

“Alright,” Tony walks onto the middle of the floor of the warehouse. “Those of you on the team with me, you better win because I refuse to come in on a Saturday,” he announces, which you suppose is his version of a pep talk. 

“Wow, Tony, very motivational,” Nat replies sarcastically with her arms crossed. 

“You know, if we win, maybe Tony will buy us some drinks,” you tell Wanda, stretching out your legs slightly. 

Wanda pats your back in false comfort, “Well, that’s a nice thought, but once again, it’s gonna be a tough competition…” 

“Oh, you’ll see, Maximoff,” you retort. “I’ll be at the outlet mall on Saturday, getting loads of great deals, then celebrating with a round of shots.” 

Wanda laughs, and you smile at her. 

But your smile quickly falls as you see Vision come out of the warehouse bathroom in his athletic wear, on his way to greet his fiance. 

Wanda notices your line of sight and turns to face him, greeting him with a hand on his chest and a quick peck on the lips. 

“Hi,” she says in a breathy voice, looking up at him with a loving grin on her face. 

“Hey,” he whispers back, and Wanda wraps her arms around his neck as the two engage in a much deeper kiss. 

You quickly avert your gaze and decide to do a couple more stretches.  

“Alright, everyone, listen up,” Tony declares as both the office and warehouse staff huddle up in a circle, Vision unfortunately ending up standing next to you. “This is gonna be a friendly game, but whoever loses this game will have to come in to work this Saturday, got it?” 

Everyone nods in understanding. 

“Alright, great, let’s start,” he says, jogging backward into place as everyone starts to disperse around the court.  

“Have a good game,” you tell Vision as the two of you take a couple of steps back to spread out, holding out your hand for him to shake. 

“Yeah, you too,” he says, shaking your outstretched hand and then running off to meet his teammates. “Should be fun,” you catch him mutter under his breath. 

You narrow your eyes in suspicion. 

“Alright, office team, huddle up,” Tony announces, snapping you out of your thoughts and forcing you to form a circle with the rest of your teammates. “Peter, you’ll take Steve, Nat, you’ll take Clint, Sam, you take Vision, Y/N, you’re on T’Challa, and I’m on Jean, got it?” 

You all nod. 

“Alright, good luck. Spread out, everyone!” Tony says as he walks towards the middle of the court to grab the ball. “Wanda, you’ve got your foot in both camps here, why don’t you do the jump ball, okay?” 

Wanda nods and walks towards Tony to grab the basketball. 

“Don’t listen to him, Wanda, trust me. Tip it my way or you’re sleeping in the car,” Vision jokes with a laugh as he squats down. 

You clench your jaw as you see Wanda’s frown. 

The ball goes up in the air and Tony quickly gets his fingers on it to tip it towards your side of the court. 

“Sam!” he yells as the ball ends up right beside Sam. 

Sam tries to dribble the ball but unfortunately, you all quickly notice that his skills are subpar at best. Sam loses control of the ball after the third dribble, allowing Vision to steal it from him. 

“Oh, come on!” Tony yells, running after Vision as well as the rest of you. 

You quickly sprint after Vision who is on his way to score, and right as he’s about to send the ball into the hoop, he passes it to Steve, who makes the shot. 

“Damn it,” you mutter. 

T’Challa tries to pass to Vision but you quickly interfere, stealing the ball before Vision can get it and sprint towards the hoop, dribbling the ball at your side. Before you can make the shot Clint guards you, so you pass it to Sam and run around Clint. 

“Shoot it, Sam!” Tony shouts. 

Sam throws the ball to try and score but misses again, accidentally throwing it over the hoop entirely. 

“Sorry, Tony!” Sam apologizes. 

“It’s fine, Sam,” Tony replies, but you can tell that he’s already starting to get frustrated. “Let’s go into zone, everyone!” he instructs. 

You jog in position, squatting down in an athletic stance to try and grab the ball being passed around between the warehouse staff.

“Defense!” Sam chants with a clap. “Defense!” 

You guard T’Challa with your arms up, and he quickly tosses the ball over your head to pass to Vision who’s right beside the hoop and about to score. You sprint to try and stop the ball, but Vision scores another point before you can reach him by doing a layup. 

Tony groans. “Who’s got Vision? Come on, step it up!” he yells. 

You move to grab the ball Vision scored and start to dribble it as you sprint towards the other side of the court. Once you reach the hoop, you’re about to shoot the ball when suddenly Vision stands in front of you to stop you from shooting the ball, with the rest of his teammates surrounding him. You inch a bit closer to him, as if you’re about to run past him on his right side, the ball dribbling at your side, and right as he starts to lean over a little bit to mirror your position, you fake him out, throwing the ball behind your back and catching it on the other side of your body, successfully passing him on his left and scoring another point. 

“Whoo!” Wanda cheers, joining in on the applause you receive for your play. 

The game passes by a bit more, and soon the ball ends up in Sam’s hands once again who’s on the opposite side of the court from the hoop. Sam goes off of his first instinct, and tries to shoot it from all the way across the court, surprising no one when it doesn’t make it into the hoop. 

“Oh, come on!” Sam yells in frustration. 

Nat steals the ball from Clint who had picked it up after Sam’s shot and scores once more, and Steve makes a 2-pointer after taking the ball from Peter, who was trying his best to be as friendly as possible since he was still the new guy. 

You furrow your brows in confusion as you hear an argument come from the corner of the warehouse, turning to see Sam trying to full-on wrestle the ball out of Jean’s hands.

“Back off!” Jean yells at him, but Sam ignores her as he gets the ball out of her grip. 

He sprints, dribbling the ball to his side as he runs towards the hoop, but unfortunately, Vision steals the ball from him before he can make it, making another shot for the warehouse team instead.  

Tony shakes his head. “All right, time out,” he says, making a T with his hands. “Office team, come on in.” 

You all walk towards Tony who stands beside the bench, panting heavily and starting to sweat quite a bit. 

“Ok, we’re down right now, guys, what do we do?” 

“Run away and start a beet farm,” Sam suggests with a shrug. 

“What? No,” Tony answers with a shake of his head. 

“Switch Y/N and Sam,” Nat responds. “She’s the strongest on our team, and it looks like Vision is theirs.” 

Wanda’s eyes widen as she overhears Nat’s suggestion from the bench. 

“Yes, smart. Ok, Y/N, you take Vision. Sam, you’ll take T’Challa, got it?” He points to the two of you and you both nod in response. 

Wanda shifts uncomfortably in her seat. 

“All right, everyone take it up a notch, come on!” Tony says with a clap, silently instructing you all to disperse across the court once more. 

The ball goes back into play, Nat taking hold of it immediately, who quickly passes it to you, and you start to dribble your way toward the hoop. You’re about to score, but Steve blocks you with his arms out, along with Vision who stands at your side to prevent you from scoring as well. 

You dribble the ball slightly, inching a bit closer to Steve before faking him out and turning to throw the ball over Vision’s head, scoring another point. 

“Yes, let’s go!” Tony yells with a fist pump. 

You jog back to the other side, giving Wanda a teasing nod as you pass her on the bench, and she watches your running form with a soft smile. 

Peter grabs the ball from Clint, starting to dribble toward the hoop, but Sam steals it from him, making his first shot of the game.  

“Same team Mr. Sam!” Peter yells, but Sam ignores him as he continues to cheer for himself.

The ball soon goes back into play, and you sprint as fast as you can after it. Steve gets ahold of it first, but gets blocked by Peter before he can go any further. You see Steve about to pass it to Vision and you quickly block him to try and catch the ball yourself. Vision growls, shoving you out of the way so you stand behind him so he can grab it instead. 

The ball gets thrown into the air, the two of you shoving each other out of the way to try and take ahold of it. As you’re about to steal it successfully, your palms are right about to contact both sides of the ball, suddenly, something hits you right in the mouth. Hard. 

You run off slightly with your hand on your mouth to check if you’re bleeding, and Wanda’s eyes widen with worry as she sits up slightly to see if you’re ok. 

“Whoa! Whoa! Vision! Foul! Dude, you just clocked her right in the mouth with your elbow,” Tony says with shock. “Y/N, are you alright?” 

Wanda tries to peer around the corner to check on you, her worry increasing by the second.  

Once you walk back onto the court and nod that you’re ok, she exhales in relief, relaxing slightly. 

The game soon restarts and the ball makes its way into your hands once more. You dribble the ball to the hoop, and right as you’re about to score, Vision stands in front of you, blocking you from making your shot. Dribbling the ball slightly, you fake him out on his right and quickly go around his left, scoring another point. Soon after, Vision is about to score when you steal the ball from him, and run towards your own hoop, scoring a 3-pointer for your team. 

Wanda smiles as she watches you play. 

Tony passes the ball to you and Vision quickly guards you by standing on your backside as the hoop is behind you. You fake him out once more and swivel around to score. However, as you do your move, he trips and falls over, making him skid a couple inches on the ground.  

“What the hell, Y/N?” he says as he stands back up, brushing his shorts slightly. 

“Hey, dude. That wasn’t her fault,” Tony says, pointing towards his untied shoelace. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he retorts, bumping your shoulder forcefully as he walks past you. 

Wanda frowns as she watches the interaction. 

Bruce lets you all know that the game is about to end in 2 minutes, and somehow Sam scores his second shot of the game after stealing the ball from Tony, making Tony roll his eyes despite being grateful for the additional point. 

The game passes quickly, and suddenly, you all hear the blare of an airhorn being fired by Bruce to indicate that the game is over. 

You stop running and try to catch your breath by putting your hands on your knees, feeling exhausted from all the exercise. 

“And the winners are,” Bruce points to Jennifer to indicate for her to do a drum roll. “The office team by 10 points!” he announces. 

You all cheer and high-five one another, and you receive a couple of compliments on your play making you smile. 

Tony turns to the warehouse staff. “All right, great,” he claps. “Guess you guys are working Saturday.” 

The warehouse workers groan, starting to walk out the door to go and change, but unfortunately, Vision has a different idea. “No, no, no, I’m not coming in on Saturday,” he says, stepping closer to Tony. 

“Hey, come on, man, they won fairly.” Steve pats him on the back. 

“No, no way, this isn’t happening, Rogers,” Vision replies, shoving Steve’s hand off of him aggressively and invading Tony’s personal space even more. 

“Dude,” Tony gets his attention. “We won. You heard me at the beginning, whoever loses will come in on Saturday. That was the deal, alright?” 

“I don’t care,” Vision snaps back. “We’re coming in on Monday, right?” 

You sigh, noticing Vision’s fists clenched and the sign that he’s about to get physical. Slightly worried for Tony’s safety and because you were already tired, you decide it’s probably best to end the argument. “Hey, Tony,” you say softly. “It’s fine, we’ll come in on Saturday,” you comply. 

Tony shakes his head. “No, Y/N, that won’t fly. We won fairly and this guy is just coming in here–” 

“Tony, it’s fine,” you interrupt. “It probably wouldn’t have been good for morale anyways,” you reason.

“You know you basically won that game for us, right?” Tony says, utterly confused by your actions. “And now you’re completely discrediting your hard work–” 

“Tony, don’t worry about it.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. “You’re insane, Y/N.” 

You shrug in response. 

“Well?” Vision demands. 

Tony looks over at you and you nod. 

“Fine,” Tony relents. “We’ll come in on Saturday.” 

Vision smiles smugly, and as leaves the two of you to head towards the bathroom, you hear his snark remark of, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

You and Tony both watch him until he closes the bathroom door behind him, and you sigh as you go to pack up your stuff. 

“I hate you,” Tony says behind you. 

You nod, zipping up your bag and patting him on the shoulder. 

“Well, you can yell at me on Saturday,” you respond, going to head upstairs to shower and change. 

***

You were back in your work clothes now, staring into the most beautiful green eyes to ever exist as the recipient of them iced your lip for you. 

“Wanda, this is completely unnecessary,” you tell her, sitting up slightly in the large chair across from her desk. “I’m fine.” 

“I know, but it looked like it hurt, and this will prevent it from swelling,” she replies, sitting down on the arm of the chair. Wanda’s brows furrow in focus as she treats your barely qualified injury, while you watch the cute expression on her face, completely entranced. Somehow, every day you just fell more and more in love with her. And right now, you didn’t even care that you had to come in on Saturday. Just one moment with the most beautiful girl the world has ever known would make you do it again in a heartbeat. 

“There, that should be good,” Wanda says, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You laugh slightly. “You mean my non-existent injury healed already?”

Wanda slaps your arm. “I was worried, you idiot. And a thank you would be nice,” she returns as she walks back to her desk. 

“Thank you, Wanda,” you say, leaning back in your chair with a smile, watching her.  

She smiles gratefully as she sits back down in her chair. 

You and Wanda start a small conversation between the two of you for the next few minutes, but unfortunately, your moment with the receptionist is cut short, as the devil himself walks in. 

“Hey, baby,” Vision greets, looking over at you as he walks towards Wanda, limping slightly due to his fall you assume. 

“Hey,” Wanda greets back as she starts to put her stuff away, Vision noticing you and giving you a grin. 

“Look at Larry Bird, over here,” he says, nodding his head over at you. “Larry Legend.” 

“Yeah, she’s, uh, she’s pretty good, huh?” Wanda agrees as she comes around her desk with her arms crossed, staring at you for a moment before grabbing Vision’s arm. 

The two start to walk out together, and you wave goodbye to both of them as a silly smile makes its way onto your face.

part 6

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

Okay!

After nearly a full decade of our time of Stephanie Brown being told to go home and give up being Spoiler, Batman takes her on as a student and sanctions her, with no preamble or warning.

That’s weird, let’s talk about it.

Batmans strange choices in how he treats Stephanie Brown can only be understood by analyzing his character.

Let's place Batman in context of what is going on directly before his decision to bring in Stephanie Brown as part of the team. The last major event preceding Stephanie Brown being sanctioned is Officer Down, which by the time it concludes Batman has lost two of his oldest allies: Jim Gordon has retired and Alfred has resigned.

In the wake of Officer Down, I’d like to track two key conflicting characteristics of Batman, how they are exacerbated, and how they influence how Stephanie is treated.

1. A Longing for Companionship

Batman's desire for the company of others is increased post-Officer Down, as he deals with suddenly being isolated from most of his core group.

Other characters point this out:

Batman #590 (1940)

Additionally, for the first time in a long while, Bruce Wayne is entirely alone in the manor.

Gotham Knights #20 (2000)

So, why doesn’t Batman just do the normal, healthy thing and reach out to the loved ones he still has? I personally believe it’s because of how embarrassed he is after getting epically owned by Alfred, but the more general answer is: he’s the Batman.

Out of paranoia his feelings will be used against him, or out of fears those close to him will be harmed if he directly expresses affection for them, or out of just being too damn cool for “emotions”, any way you slice it, Batman is:

2. Deeply uncomfortable with appearing emotionally vulnerable

We can see this with one of Bruce’s primary response to immediate grief: denial and silence

A simple example of this is how he acts after Jason Todd is killed. Bruce completely refuses to acknowledge his existence, and remains utterly silent when confronted.

Batman #437 / #440 (1940)

Another easy example of this is how he inexplicably approaches Nightwing dressed as Matches Malone in order to express that he isn’t trying to step on his toes:

Nightwing #14 (1996)

While it varies over time how emotionally closed off Bruce is, I believe one of the biggest triggers for an increase in this emotional cut off is when he is made to feel helpless.

During Cataclysm, he is helpless to stop the earthquake or meaningfully protect Gotham, there’s no enemy to fight, it’s just pure random crappy luck. He responds to this feeling of circumstances being out of his immediate control by cutting off almost all of his allies and sending them out of Gotham.

After he learns about how Zatanna and some other JLers wiped his memory and betrayed his trust, his reaction is to create an artificial intelligence to spy on the Justice League.

When Batman is put in situations which makes him feel physically or emotionally vulnerable, when he’s subject to circumstances out of his control, Batmans response has been historically to double down and isolate himself and cover up any potential weaknesses by convincing himself he’s better off alone and paranoid.

Eventually, after some time of this, he has a big moment where he decides to let people in, but his knee jerk reaction is always to pull away first.

This aversion to vulnerability is in play during and post-Officer Down, where Bruce is confronted by Jim’s mortality and retirement as well as Alfred’s resignation, all “enemies” he can’t just punch away.

Nightwing #53 (1996) / Gotham Knights #13 (2000)

In the wake of Officer Down, these conflicting traits are prominently portrayed.

In particular, Gotham Knights #18 demonstrates how these ideas clash.

Batmans loneliness is explored heavily: he starts the comic off talking to a bat, repeatably calls Oracle who is trying to sleep, and wanders through the completely empty manor.

His loneliness is conveyed through how he is framed: a shadow in a batsuit, wandering though desaturated and darkened hallways and rooms, completely silently, like a ghost.

Finally, the silence ends. Bruce calls Aquaman, asking for help excavating his giant penny. They have an awkward conversation, until Aquaman eventually calls him on his BS, pretty much directly stating that the penny was a total excuse, and that Bruce just wanted company, that he only called because he was lonely.

Gotham Knights #18 (2000)

When confronted with his loneliness, we see his desire for companionship come into play. He tries to talk to the bat, to Oracle, and then Arthur.

We also see it mitigated by the second impulse, his aversion to vulnerability. He can't tell Oracle that he just wants to talk, he has to frame the interaction through a case that he himself admits he no longer needs her help with.

Likewise, he can't just tell Aquaman that he wants to hang out, he has to make up a lie about needing help moving his giant penny.

His desire for companionship drives him to reach out, while his aversion to emotional vulnerability forces him to obscure this desire for human connection.

So, thats fine and all, but what does any of this have to do with Stephanie Brown?

As I mentioned earlier, Officer Down is the event that occurs just before Batman brings Steph onto the team. I argue that this dynamic of yearning for companionship vs. resistance to emotional vulnerability influences heavily his decision to "sanction" her as Spoiler.

Stephanie as a balm for Batmans loneliness.

This is immediately clear if you compare how much he's talking in Gotham Knights #18 to how he chatters away at Stephanie. He directly references Tim and Alfred's absence. But unlike Gotham Knights #18 the absence is not a bad thing per se, its framed against Stephanie's presence, how he allows her to stay.

Green Arrow #5 (2001)

Stephanie's role in assuaging his loneliness is evident in other places as well, for instance, in the Gotham Knights Last Laugh tie in. Stephanie realizes she forgot to turn her comm of, and had been "blabbing in [his] ear all night", Batman reassures her that he isn't upset. Just the opposite in fact, he tells her to not turn it off, saying he "doesn't mind the company" and placing a hand awkwardly on her shoulder. He clearly appreciated the relief from his loneliness her "blabbing" had provided.

Gotham Knights #22 (2000)

So Batman's embarrassing loneliness might have had some role to play in him taking her on as a student and "sanctioning" her. But what about that second impulse? How does it come into play?

2. How Stephanie as an outsider allows for emotional vulnerability

Originally, Batman takes Stephanie on because he needed her to help him find Tim at Brentwood, as he is unable to go himself. The reasons he "can't" go himself only become clear when Tim confronts Bruce, calling him out for being afraid of running into Alfred.

Robin #87 (1993)

This scene illustrates how Stephanie satisfies the second impulse, her outsider status. Stephanie is different from the rest of the team.

Tim has access to the context and information which allows him to expose Batman's emotionally vulnerability. Tim can call out Batman out for his pettiness and cowardice in how he hides from Alfred.

But Stephanie? Stephanie doesn't know who Alfred is, or how embarrassing it is for Batman to be avoiding him after Alfred yelled at him and called him a baby. She doesn't have the context that Tim and the rest of the team have.

So what does this mean? It means that Batman can tell her shit that is not true, like that he calls his car "The Car" instead of the Batmobile. And, more importantly, it means that he can express emotional vulnerability without any of the potential consequence. She has no context, and she has no one to tell.

Alfred is beefing with her over Bruce's choice to tell her Tim's identity, so that potential friendship is over before it could begin. And she gets (seemingly) brushed off by Batgirl.

Robin #88 (1993)

She doesn't even have Tim, who Stephanies believes is mad at her.

Robin #94 (1993)

I cannot emphasize this enough: she has nobody to tell. And Batman absolutely knows this.

He is emotionally vulnerable with her, expressing concern for the future and uncertainty:

Robin #92 (1993)

This moment is weird. It stands out. Stephanie seems aware of the strangeness of this moment, she reflects on it internally.

This moment parallels something in another comic. His fears and uncertainties about bringing other people into his "war"? We see a similar dialogue in the beginning of Gotham Knights.

Gotham Knights #1 (2000)

These are his uncertainties and fears that he can normally only express through creating a case file where he writes in the third person, assessing himself as Batman as if he is a completely different person. But theres no subterfuge here. He just straight up tells Stephanie Brown, utterly unprompted.

And this isn't the last time it's mentioned. At least half a year later, at the very start of War Games, the strange and scary vulnerability of this moment is still etched in Stephanies mind.

Batman: The 12 Cent Adventure (2004)

And while Batman gets to dump his insecurities on Stephanie, it's not exactly reciprocal. Stephanie expresses fear that Batman will drop her if she goes to him for help after her dad threatens to kill her. She has no feeling of security in her place on the team if she's afraid of this.

Robin #94 (1993)

And she's not even wrong about Batman's willingness to fire her at the drop of a hat, it just occurs later.

And when it occurs is important. The events of Bruce Wayne: Murderer lead to Alfred coming back into the manor and Bruce's employ. It ends with a big reconcilltion between the primary team, where Bruce explains he's been off since Officer Down.

Batman #605 (1940)

Alfred is back, no questions asked. The "real" team gets an apology and an explanation. And in other words, Batman is no longer as alone as he was before.

Everyone was locked out of the cave during Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive, but Stephanie is the only one who is not let back in once it concludes. She doesn't get an explanation, and Batman did not seem to have a plan to tell her she's been fired. She had to track him down and confront him to find out he'd given up on her.

Gotham Knights #37 (2000)

We can see how his isolation contributes to how she is treated by who is told when she is fired/sanctioned. When he brings her on the team, no one knows ahead of time. We don't see him tell anyone at all. In contrast, once his primary support system is firmly reestablished post Bruce Wayne: Murderer, Bruce separately informs Tim, Cassandra, and Alfred that Stephanie was fired. He's able to do this because his web has been repaired.

Stephanie Brown essentially fulfills the same role as the bat that Bruce talks to in Gotham Knights #18.

A new presence, unencumbered with the point of view the rest of the team has, unknowing of Bruce's history of fucking up. A sounding board, a stand in for Bruce's normal company.

Stephanie's presence perfectly satiates the contrasting impulses Batman deals with when it comes to how he interacts with other characters. Through her, Bruce can have companionship without being afraid of the danger of emotional vulnerability. She doesn't have the context, she doesn't know Bruce Wayne. She only knows Batman, and she seems pretty starstruck about finally being let on his team.

[jimsbeetroot]

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 ♱ 𝐣𝐢𝐦 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭

words; 1.761

smut!

--

In all fairness, it's just a mask. A mask he allowed you to put on him before every show.

It's just a guitar, but he always played for you when you couldn't fall asleep at night.

And it’s just shoes— shoes that are normally huddled together in the hallway before you come home. It’s such a little thing that you shouldn’t be getting upset about, but it’s another thing on the list of things that you’d noticed about Jim's absence.

Things were so different in the house; it all felt so painfully empty. It was quiet, really quiet. So quiet that you sometimes felt as if you could hear the gentle thrumming of your heartbeat. You’d tried to fill the silence with music and the talking of the TV, but it didn't help to see his masked face on MTV every day.

And before you knew it, it was quiet again— quiet and empty.

An empty plate was still set at his place at the table. It went without saying; you missed him— a lot.

It was the first time in over six years that you’d been apart for this long.

Jim had gone on tour with Slipknot and for the first time - since you got together- you hadn't joined him.

It was Jim's call. The band was experiencing their ups and downs, and Jim didn't want you to be stuck with that for months. You understood.

The first couple of months, you thought you could handle it. It hadn’t felt much different then. But suddenly, it was as if anything that remotely reminded you of Jim would automatically set you off.

And it wasn’t like you hadn’t called, or at least tried to call — if you somehow managed to get the times correct— it was just not the same. 

You sighed frustratedly, flinging a paintbrush at the canvas. It stroked a harsh angry black line on the creamy-white paper. You’d been trying to find inspiration for that fucking painting but it wasn’t coming along so easy.

All you could think of was that twenty-four hours was a pretty long time, and you weren’t sure if you could wait that long to see him.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up from the painting as you heard a voice emerging from downstairs.

You shook off the thought. 

Those stupid voices had been appearing in your head for over four months, and you were not about to let them fool you once more.

You tilted your head slightly to look at the canvas from another angle. 

Maybe you could draw Jim. You could draw his face or his hands. Or maybe you could draw his dick. Yeah, you could draw his dick from memory with your eyes closed, it was almost embarrassing. 

You scoffed, how desperate could you get?

“What’s this one called?”

Wow, you’re even hearing Jim talking now? 

Fuck, what a loser. 

Was it healthy to be so in love that you could hear your boyfriend's voice when he was somewhere on the other side of the world? 

Surely, it couldn’t be.

“I know. A black beacon trying to blossom against the adversity of white?” 

A familiar voice chuckled from behind you.

You frowned, not turning around. If it was your thoughts then why did it sound exactly like something Jim would say? 

Shit, I really really have it bad.

“Really, not even a giggle? I’ve had a better reaction from my band mates—”

You heard a few steps coming closer.

“—and my girlfriend refuses to acknowledge my existence”

Okay. 

You were sure that you heard a small creak from that floorboard as if someone purposely stepped on it. 

Fuck, you weren’t not expecting anyone and the only person with a spare key is— was, well Jim. You glanced behind you slowly and cautiously, but before you knew it, you were stumbling up from the floor and jumping to wrap your legs around Jim.

“Fuck, I thought I was going crazy imagining your voice,” you murmured with your mouth against Jim's neck. He’s back. Your James. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

You looked up at him, arms hooked around his neck.

He was exactly as he was when he’d left and the feeling of just being around him again overwhelmed you. You felt so completely whole again and the thought tugged at your heartstrings.

You held him tighter as your lips trembled and tears welled up in your eyes.

Jim frowned, setting you down gently on the dresser. 

“Please don’t cry. You know it breaks my heart.”

“I know, I know,” You chuckled, trying to get rid of the traitorous tears that slid down your cheek.

"I just— I missed you so much. It’s just—”

Jim smiled widely as he flattened you up against his body again, forehead level with yours.

He placed a soft kiss on your temple

“I missed you too, babe, so fucking much.” 

He raked his fingers through your hair. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? I thought about you every single day. My little love all by herself, waiting for me.”

You grinned. God, you’d missed his voice and the way he talked, so relaxed that it never failed to excite you.

“I thought you were coming back tomorrow?”

“I left early,” Jim said, shifting your hair away from your neck. He gave it a soft peck.

“Really?” You were more than over the moon that he was here, but if he’d gotten in trouble over it, you’d feel horrible. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did. Corey got sick and we cancelled the last show. I had to come back to my baby.”

Your cheeks flushed what you could only imagine had been a bright rose-tinted colour. 

"You’re too sweet,” you gushed. 

“Sweet is overrated-” Jim started, flashing that smirk.

”-Now take off those cute little shorts and panties. I need to taste that sweet cunt of yours."

You didn’t need him telling you twice before you were tugging at the clothes, the cool breeze instantly blew at your bare core causing shivers down your spine. You’d been waiting for this moment ever since he’d left and your fingers had never quite succeeded in satisfying yourself the way Jim did— does.

Jim sunk to his knees. Fuck. He ran a finger over your slit, playing with the juices and he groaned as it spilled deliciously against the wood dresser.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders.

“God Y/N, I’ve missed you.” 

Jim kissed the skin of your thigh right under where you wanted him the most. 

“You’ve always had a sweet cunt, always drenched and ready for me.”

Jim parted your lips with his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he looked up at you with pure fascination.

“God Jim— I need your mouth,”

Jim smirked at the sheer desperation in your voice. He plunged a digit into your hole. 

Shit, your walls clenched around his finger. 

The moment which you’d been longing for, was finally here.

“Where baby? You have to be specific.”

“On me, fuck—” You whimpered as his fingers bent in and out of you. 

You’d craved his contact for all these months and now, you had it, and overwhelming pleasure filled your body. 

Your cheeks were hot and flustered and there was entirely too much going on. “I need your mouth on my cunt, Jim. I just need you…..please.”

Jim grunted, delving his tongue deep into you. He glanced up at you with a hum that vibrated through you. 

“I— ’m so fucking close Jim—” You breathed heavily, trying to get your bearings correct, but his fingers were moving inside you with the same vigour his cock did.

Jim released your clit with a prominent pop. Your walls clenched tightly around his fingers with no particular pattern. He sunk his teeth into the flesh of your trembling thighs, sucking a blossoming bruising purple on the surface.

“Fuck—”

You couldn’t even begin to think properly as his lips trailed kisses up your body. You hadn’t come that hard in so long that your body was already weak from pleasure.

Jim smirked. 

“Look at you, baby. So fucking spent—” Your face was slippery with sweat, strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “— and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. “You missed me that much?”

“Yes—” You answer, a shaky breath leaving your lips. “I missed you so fucking much. I missed your fingers—”

Jim lined himself with your entrance.

“What else?”

“I missed your cock as well. So, so much."

Jim grinned, sinking his cock inside you slowly, only stopping when he was right at the hilt, your walls sucking him in naturally and he moaned at the sensation.

It was pure ecstasy as he began to move, pulling himself out before slamming his hips back.

“Faster—” After so long, you needed him now, rough and hard. “—Please, you need to go faster, Jim”

“Hold on, darling,” Jim growled out. “I haven’t fucked you in so long and you’re so fucking tight.”

Jim laid his rough hands on your waist, clutching you tightly.

“You know I love you, right?”

You smiled lazily, your eyes fluttering closed. “Hmm, I love you too— a lot.”

Jim bit your collarbone and increased his pace, pounding into you deep again and again.

You dug your fingers into Jim's back, chanting his name so loud that the neighbours were probably aware that he was back by now. But you didn’t care.

Jim hooked one of your legs around his waist, hitting you at another angle and you mewed at the way he hit your sweet spot.

“God I— Fuck—”

“You want to come again, baby?” Jim asked, kissing your neck.

“Yes, yes please—”

“Then come for me baby,” He growled and it didn’t take long before you were jerking against him, screaming out his name.

He captured your lips in his, kissing you heatedly, teeth and tongue smashed as he swallowed your moans. He continued to thrust, deep and hard.

“Fuck baby— I’m gonna need you to clench around me.”

“I— I can’t,” You managed to choke out, blurring the lines between pain and pleasure.

“Yes, you can baby,” Jim said as your eyes pricked red with tears. “I got you.”

You could feel the fire pooling in your abdomen as you used all of your energy to clench around his cock.

Jim let out a long, loud moan as he finally came so hard.

“God— I’ve missed you,” You said.

Jim pulled himself out of you. “Hmm. I’ve missed you too.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

thanks for replying, i really appreciate it :D! my request has to do with jim hawkins and reader who’s the daughter of delbert doppler and is very shy around him, i’m ok with the plot being anything, thank you!

A/N: I started writing this a while ago but for some reason I just couldn't settle on a format OR a plot. But I decided to clear out my drafts and coming across this with a fresh mind definitely helped smooth things along. I settled for headcannons, along with a lot of other descriptions just to get a feel on the relationship Jim has with the reader. Mid write into this and a NSFW version smacked my writer brain so I’ll probably write that if it’s interesting enough to read too. This is set before the movie! I am SO sorry for such a long wait, I really hope you enjoy!

Jim Hawkins x Fem! Doppler daughter reader!

Warnings: Fluff, teasing, Jim being a trouble maker, good girl x bad boy trope, sneaky jim >>>

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

PINNING!

Jim had noticed you for quite some time before it came to actually making a move on you

He knew you were shy, you were shy with everyone, but with him it seemed you just tried to disappear right into yourself

He didn't really understand why, so he went to his mom about it

Her answer? She probably likes you

Well that was a first

He doubted it at first, and unconsciously started doing things to test this theory. To see if you really did like him

But the more he tried not to like you too, the more he did

He knew Delbert was gonna kill him if he found out Jim liked his daughter

but what else was he supposed to do? he couldn’t ignore you, not when he loved the reaction of you getting so shy on him

He asks you out late at night, Delbert is talking to his mother and he thinks it’s the perfect time

He sneaks in through one of the open windows of the small house, the soft sound of music in the background comforting to him

He sees you standing in the kitchen, drying a the last few dishes with a small smile on your face

“Hey Y/n.” Jim says in your ear, and you jump

“J-Jim! Don’t do that, you scared me.” She says, a hand on her chest to calm her breathing

“Sorry sorry, you’re easy to scare.” He says, before he sees your eyes looking at the hand he has tucked behind his back

“What do you have?” You ask quietly, and he smiles at the blush that creeps up onto your face

“Look, Y/n, I-“ He pauses, nervous. “I know I’m probably the last person you’d want to ask you this but, I really like you.” He says, pulling out a few flowers from behind him holding it between the two of you. “I really want to take you out. If you’d let me, of course.” He says, his head dipping a bit. He might get in trouble a lot but he still respects you

“Jim, I’d love too.” You say, you’re quiet and shy about it, leaning into your shoulder with a smile. He grins wide and hands you the flowers, watching as you go to put them in a vase.

DATING HIM:

He drags you out with him sometimes, and most of the time you stop him from getting in trouble

Even after you two start dating you still get so shy on him

He actually likes it, and he teases you for it a TON

He’ll purposely get your attention by taking things from you just to get you flustered

His mother loves you >>>

[ellouchi]

Jimmy dating headcannons (sfw/gn reader)

Disclaimer: this work contains unhealthy interpersonal practices and elements of abuse.

Side note: this was going to be LONGER and include nsfw but I've decided it's better to divide everything into parts. Finally getting this out because there is a critical shortage of Jimmy x reader works (cries and picks up a pen). Let me know if I missed something or made a mistake.

Enjoy!

— ok starting with the fluff: Jimmy feels too embarrassed to properly hold your hand, like some small shy boy. He will make it seem like you've the one who acts childish of course, holds your hand if you plead enough and only for a minute in public, for a bit more when in private. You can be lucky enough to tag after him holding his sleeve if he feels like it. Jimmy secretly loves to hold your wrist, especially in a tight grip, feeling your pulse beating under your skin (he is like a handcuff).

— Jimmy doesn't say "I love you", not in a usual sense. Instead it's always alternatives like common "You make me feel all warm and stupid inside" and the most rare "You mean a lot to me" spoken in a quiet sincere tone. Unfortunately "I love you"s are reserved for manipulation. He knows it gets people very compliant or/and defenseless. It doesn't do any harm anyway because he's merely speaking the truth. It's actually a litmus test if you love him or not, so be very careful with your words during those moments.

— primarily uses your name or alias you go with instead of pet names. Sometimes, Jimmy would use baby, babe, sweet cheeks (bear with me); dear, darling and love when he's pissed off or he tries to be condescending.

— Jimmy has a preconceived notion that your parents/family wouldn't like him, he has enough self awareness for that. Because of this, he'll try to make it seem like he's better than he is, so you better play along. If your family hates his guts, Jim doubles down, resulting in both parties wagging a war. Doesn't give a fuck about them at all after that disastrous first meeting. However, if somehow you family did take a liking to Jimmy, he's glad....but also puzzled. I think Jim has had shitty childhood, so when he is treated like a proper family member, he's lost. He doesn't want to see your family often because of his complicated feelings, but makes exceptions for the special occasions.

— Jimmy knows and remembers things about you to the points it's both scary and impressive: likes and dislikes, fears, dreams, ambitions etc. On the more positive side, this includes songs, books, movies, comics and anything like that — even if he doesn't like it, he has an understanding of what it is. If you call him out, Jimmy either says he doesn't care (he does, so much actually) or says "Of course I do, you can't shut up about [thing]" (lies).

— Jimmy doesn't have a lot of free time on his hands. If both of you are free, that means you are spending this time with him. No, your plans won't matter if they exclude Jim out of the picture. This involves discouraging you or outright sabotaging you. As per usual, he wouldn't find anything wrong with this kind of behaviour. You should just stop being unreasonable and spend some time with your lover. Look, he even went out of his way to find a movie you two would enjoy watching.

— birthdays with Jimmy are weird (if you could tell from the game). If you look forward to them, so does he; if you don't, well he congratulates you when the day comes and that's about it. It's much worse when the gifts are involved, because Jimmy will actually try to get what you want, and the more expensive it is, the more positive reaction he expects from you. He saved up throughout the year, denied himself pleasures and worked his ass off — if you don't shower him with appreciation and gratitude, he will make a scene about how selfish you are. On your own birthday.

— Jimmy keeps your gifts and trinkets in his drawer (if they small enough). He has some photos of you together, small souvenirs from trips, cute notes you left him — you name it. This habit will get creepy: the things having a lot of sentimental value to you, your trash like discarded perfume bottle and cream tubs, even your underwear. He wouldn't care if you made fun of him, but god forbid you misplace or throw away anything from that drawer.

— Jimmy loves when you rely on him. However, to a degree because this man quickly gets tired of running errands. If he offers to do something it's safe to agree, asking too much will get him worked up so don't overdo. With that said, Jimmy always does small things, like making your preferred beverage during the day, calling to remind you something, doing small chores unprompted, basically covering your bases. It's hard to feel unloved when you are remembered and cared for in that way. Also gives him an ammo for fights in case you forget how much Jimmy does for you.

— Jimmy insists on driving you everywhere (so people would know that you belong to him). Also it means Jim has lots of good punishments at his disposal when you two fight: lock the car from the inside? Leave you somewhere you don't know? Or just not pick you up altogether? Better leave all the arguments for later or don't bring them up at all...

— you are one of few people to see Jimmy's playful side: he just loves to joke around you. He wouldn't like it, but your sense of humour would rub off him greatly. If that wasn't enough this man loves to prank you in small ways: it's childish stuff most of times, like hiding or misplacing an item in your house and playing innocent. Other than that, Jimmy will whistle and catcall you when he sees you and will slap your ass in public when you leave. You are encouraged to prank him in return too, but you will be pranked harder next time. Grins, snickers and snorts a lot but laughs very, very rarely. However, it's one of the most healing things you could experience. Literally restores years to your lifespan.

— Jimmy doesn't like seeing you upset actually. He's not super soft or doting, he will pry the reason for your distress out of you whether you like it or not. If he deems it's unimportant, will tell you to suck it up, maybe even make a sarcastic remark. If it's serious business, he involves himself. Of course half the time it makes your situation worse and him angrier at himself which translates to Jim being angry at you.

— when Jimmy is upset, it's best to wait it out. I headcannon Jimmy used to have terrible anger issues but with years managed to control them to a degree. It doesn't mean he wouldn't lash out on you, his partner, it does get ugly. Him hugging you for comfort is actually more frequent than you would expect. As long as you don't address his tears or say much, Jimmy would calm down with little to no issue. Don't bring it up later too, he won't respond and will pretend it never happened.

— finishing with the reminder that you will be carrying Jimmy's emotional baggage as well as your own if you have any. I hope you have strong and healthy arms and back for that. If you're not careful enough or *cough cough* stay ignorant of Jim's bad influence on you, he will bring you to his level and mold you into who he wants you to be. But it doesn't work one way: in theory, you could "fix" some of his unsavoury outlooks but don't expect too much. After years of blood, sweat and tears it's possible to finally convince him to go to therapist. Praying he would continue on his own wouldn't be enough and you would need to actively encourage Jim to not give up on his mental health treatment. Way to go!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Never You

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: During a date night with Street, he is targeted by several gunmen. He keeps you safe, but when you distance yourself after, he blames himself for causing the divide and worries about how you will react.

Warnings: shooting, angst to fluff, soft Street!!!

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: It wasn't intentional but I realized while proofreading that The Luckiest by Josh Abbott Band fits this perfectly!! I highly recommend listening to it!

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

A flip switches in Jim Street when he sees you. Gone is the hardened, jaded S.W.A.T. officer as he makes room for his love for you. You bring out the softer side of Street, and he makes it a priority to be nothing except sweet and gentle with you. With Street’s past and his job, it could be easy to treat you like another cop, so he makes a conscious effort to keep his “cop side” away from you - not out of fear of you falling out of love with him, but from care for you and your relationship. Street loves you, so he takes every chance to show you.

Tonight, you wait for Street to pick you up for your dinner date. Luca is out of town, so Street invited you to the house to cook for you. You pointed out that Street won’t have time to cook between when he gets off work and when he plans to pick you up, but he quickly found a solution. You smile and stand when he knocks on the door with his unmistakable pattern.

“Hi,” he says with a bright smile. “You look amazing, honey.”

“Honey,” you murmur under your breath.

“I messed up,” Street admits. He ignores your reaction to his pet name as his eyes drop apologetically. “I worked late yesterday and completely forgot that I needed to go grocery shopping for dinner tonight, and-“

“Street, take a breath,” you interject kindly. “It’s not a problem. We can go get something, or stay here and order, whatever you want to do.”

“I was looking forward to cooking with you, you know, a quiet night in.”

“Then let’s go shopping on the way back to your place. I’m not going to complain against more time with you, handsome.”

Handsome, Street thinks as his smile returns. He knows better than to ask if you’re sure, and he likes the idea of even more time with you, too. After he extends his arm to you, you loop your elbow against his and laugh when he pulls you closer during the short walk to the car.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Street says as he kisses your forehead.

You smile as he closes the passenger door and wait for him to sit in the driver’s seat before you reply, “I missed you too. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“Sorry.”

“This is even better. Assuming you take as long to choose pasta as you do to choose a tie, I’m excited for the extra hour and a half of grocery shopping,” you tease.

“None of those ties matched your dress well enough!”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

Street smiles as he makes a right turn. You are never happier than when you are with him and are giddy because, even if he thinks you were kidding, you’ve been counting down the minutes to see Street again and spend time with him. You love every part of him, even the sides he doesn’t show you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Which one do you like?” Street asks as he looks at the jars before him.

You shrug where you stand tucked against Street’s chest between him and the shopping cart. As you glance down at his hand on your stomach, you see the recipe open on his phone and read the suggested brand from the screen.

“That’s not what I asked,” Street replies. “I don’t care what Kelsey from Michigan recommends; I want to know what you want.”

“You make this sound a lot more important that picking a sauce.”

“It is. You are.”

You turn against Street and smile into his neck. He moves a hand over your shoulder and drops a jar into the cart. When he taps you, you step to his side and walk beside him as he approaches the checkout lanes. Someone screams in the parking lot, and Street straightens at the sound.

“He’s got a gun!” a voice booms.

Two men in masks run into the store, and Street moves his hands to your shoulders as he pushes you between two display cases. He drops his chin, and you follow his movement and squat. Street lowers himself with you and lays a hand against your cheek as the men fire several shots.

“Stay here, okay?” Street says quietly.

You reach out for him, but he moves away too quickly. When he runs toward the door and calls for backup, you drop your head between your knees and try to distract yourself from what is happening. You trust Street more than anyone, but seeing him like this is different.

✯✯✯✯✯

Street knows that he would have jumped to action even if he were here alone, but knowing that you are in this store makes him more eager to stop the shooters and get them in custody. He calls quickly for backup, ducks behind a register, and pulls his gun from its holster.

“Officer Street, stand up again!” one of the men taunts. “Give me a clear shot and I’ll tell you what I think of you, man.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Why don’t you just put the guns down and we can talk back at the station?” Street responds.

“No deal. You know what that means, don’t you?”

Street stands and fires at the men as sirens approach. One of the men runs toward the fire exit, but the other drops behind the table nearest him. Several officers enter the store, and Street walks to the now-cuffed suspect.

“We’re going to go get statements, but your team is en route, Officer Street,” one of the cops says.

Street turns to watch them approach you, and when you look around for him, he instantly worries that letting you see this side of him is not worth it. The fear in your eyes scares Street; he’s worried that you will be scared of him now that you’ve seen how intense he can be. He never talks about work for good reason, but now you know what Street is like when you’re not around, and you may never want to come near him again.

“Street!” Hondo calls as he arrives. “What happened, man?”

Street tears his eyes from you as you give your statement. He tells Hondo what the shooters said and where the other went. You deserve to be comforted, and he desperately needs to be the one to give it to you. But, you’re busy, and now Street has to go to work and do that thing that may have driven a wedge between you. When you meet his eyes again, you nod. He’s unsure if it’s an acknowledgment that you are okay or simply acknowledging that he can leave. Either way, Street follows Deacon and Hondo to Black Betty and tries to focus on keeping you safe in the long term. After all, he owes you a date and a homemade dinner.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you hear Street’s name come from one of the shooters, your breath catches. This isn’t a random attack; these men are here for the man you love. Street tries to talk to him, but more bullets rip through the store in reply. Sirens approach, and everything grows eerily quiet before the back door bangs open and sets off the alarm. A police officer stops in front of you just before the alarm quiets, and you take his offered hand as you stand.

“I’m so sorry about what has happened to you, ma’am. But I do need to ask you a few questions. Are you hurt?” he asks.

After a quick mental inventory, you decide that you are physically fine. Mentally and emotionally, however, you are not as well off. You are terrified. Not just scared because people shot up the store you’re in, but because they called your boyfriend out by name, and, worse, you think, you considered asking him to stay with you instead of doing his duty.

“Can you tell me what happened?” the officer asks.

“Sure,” you answer. “I was shopping with my boyfriend-“

“Jim Street?”

“Yes, sir. We were approaching the checkout area, and someone screamed in the parking lot, that a man had a gun, and then two armed men appeared in the doorway and began shooting. One of them called for Officer Street by name.”

You answer a few more questions before the officer tells you you are free to go. A friend picks you up and takes you home. Once you’re alone, you can’t stop thinking about what happened and quickly realize you have some things to work through. After turning your phone off to help you focus, you sit in your living room and begin thinking about everything that happened between when you walked into the store and when you walked out. Leaving without the man you entered beside may be what scares you most.

✯✯✯✯✯

The entire time that Street is working the case, he wants to talk to you. Finding the recently paroled men is relatively easy, but catching them proves harder. After acting as bait, Street watches from behind the glass as the men are interviewed by Hondo, Commander Hicks, and Lieutenant Lynch. It’s as the team expected: they’re still upset that Street arrested them several months prior and set out to get revenge once they were released. Ironically, they were released for good behavior.

“Revenge worked out well for them, didn’t it?” Street asks when Hondo walks in.

“It did. Get out of here, kid. She needs you, too.”

Street nods and thanks Hondo for his hard work over the last three days of nearly nonstop work but does not hesitate to rush out. You haven’t contacted him since the incident; over 72 hours of not hearing your voice has only increased his worries. He hates the distance because it’s his fault; he could have avoided this by protecting you from himself.

Street drives to your house and takes a few deep breaths before he gets out of the car and walks to your door. He hopes for the best as he knocks on the door, but then he realizes that maybe you didn’t call because you need space. Or, Street thinks, you need permanent space from him. You open the door, and Street’s heart breaks at the tired look on your face.

“Can we talk?” Street asks. “Don’t feel like you have to say yes, though. I can wait- I will wait for you.”

You nod and open the door for Street to come in. He seems stressed, and when he looks over at a framed picture of the two of you, you recognize the look in his eye. He’s worrying just as much as you have been.

“I’m sorry if I’m pushing before you’re ready; if you need room, or…”

“Street,” you say softly. “I can tell that you’re worried, and I am too, but-“

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I- I kept that part separate for a reason.”

“Wait,” you interject as you raise your hands toward him. “You think… I am not scared of you. I will never be scared of you; I trust you completely. I felt a lot of things after those guys came in, and there were a lot of causes, but I would never feel like that because of you. The fear that I felt… I know that you will always protect me, just like you did a few nights ago.”

“Never?”

“I’m sorry for distancing myself from you. I was working through everything that I was feeling, just trying to process what had happened and how it affected me, but it was not because of you.”

Street nods, and he feels better after hearing your promises that you are not scared of him.

“I was scared, Street, and I will be scared again. I’m not sure I’ll ever fully understand exactly what I felt in that moment when they started shooting, but the fear and the- the anxiety, the alarm, whatever I felt, will never be directed at you or caused by you. I know you, and I know that you will save me again.” You chuckle before promising, “You saved me, you kept me safe, and I will always love you. Not just for that but knowing that the man I love can and will protect me like that makes everything easier.”

Street smiles and raises his arms. You don’t hesitate to rush toward him and wrap your arms around his waist. Your speech not only eradicates all of Street’s concerns but reminds him of how much you love him. Being chosen and loved isn’t something that Street is used to, but he loves being chosen and loved by you.

“I love you,” you say against Street’s chest. “We may not show it the same way, but you deserve all the love you give… times two plus four.”

Street chuckles against you and tightens his grip over your shoulders. “I only want all that love if it’s from you.”

“Oh, I plan to give you as much love as I can,” you promise.

“I, uh, I went to the store before I came here. Are you still up for a dinner date?”

“You stopped at the store after working for three days straight? You do love me!”

“I don’t think that was ever a question.”

“Then don’t question that I love you too. You give love because you’re loving, but I give you love because I love you.”

Street pulls back and squints at you before asking, “What?”

You scrunch your nose before kissing Street. “Alright, as long as you’re offering, I’m hungry and I’d love to distract you for a while.”

As you turn to walk to Street’s car and get the groceries, he watches you.

“Distract me how?” he calls after you.

“With love!”

[thenightshadowqueen]

SFTH moments that live rent-free in my head, part 2 (in no particular order)

Because apparently I have more.

“Mmm, but I’m poison and you love it”

Creepy Jim 🏳️‍🌈

The hat-nose letter

“STOPINTHENAMEOFTHELAAAWWWW!!!”

Sam losing his fucking mind during the expert game in HUGE

“Mr. André Beetroot, you’re my hero!” “Ah, I don’t like you.”

Luke as the horny goblin

Tom’s whole speech as Locomotion—it was so fucking gorgeous and it’s in my head all the time (especially “I’m older than the devil, sir” and “I am the Silver Line and the Silver Line is me!”)

“Don’t let the constant mental breakdowns get you down.”

The bit in the Suspicious Crème Brûlée where Sam yanks Luke around by his hair

“AJ stays with Luke…” (I’m sorry in advance for getting this stuck in your head)

Luke taking his trousers off in Nigel (and then using that to get Tom to do it in My First Bra)

“Lovely little Luke Manning!”

AJ’s rap about Disney princesses (Worst thing I’ve ever seen. 10/10.)

Tom holding up a fucking buttplug during one of the COVID livestreams????? (Also I can’t for the life of me remember which one it was and if anyone knows that would be very appreciated because I’m half-convinced it was a fever dream)

“Gavin, obviously there’s a difference.” (I don’t know what it is, but the way Tom says it has captivated me)

The Jane Austen bit in West End Big Boys

“Grab her by the face and DON’T LET GO! Because sometimes they run away and LEAVE YOU!”

“I’m just a writer, and I like to ride bikes. I’m not weird, I’m not strange; I enjoy juices, and I have a good family.”

“When the wind doth blow/to and fro/you must get your shit together/and fuck up them hoes”

The kiss in the prom Timewarp, and especially the way AJ and Tom were cheering them on

Also the kiss in the “what not to do with your coworkers” video, because the way Luke throws three of his limbs in the air at once is glorious

“Husband! Husband!” “Oh, darling, you’ve been down in the basement—” “The chinchilla’s a FUCKING NAZI!”

Sam calling AJ “CrossFit Voldemort”

On that note, “He looked a little bit like Henry Cavill if he had a wasting disease” (and Tom’s little sassy head movement in response)

“You’re keeping me on tenterhooks, like a piece of sirloin.”

The scene Tom and Sam did for Tom’s anniversary

“The camper the German, the more likely they are to win.”

“You said it was water under the bridge.” “Aye, and you know what’s good at drowning people?”

Giggly Luke from Hornchurch

The booba looba (and AJ’s glorious reaction to it)

“Can I call you Tony?” “You can, but my name’s David.” (“So, Tony—”)

Jackson from the COVID livestreams (“Sit in the well-done corner and just shut up.”)

Sam’s fucking apocalypse plan (which is still in my head despite my best efforts)

“I just wanted to have the talk.” “The talk? The boob talk?” “The boob talk that all women must have with their mothers.”

The wife from the casino scene (it’s the accent)

“Do you need a lie-down?” “I thought I already was.”

“Larger than a man, smaller than a dream”

Moriarty-Sherlock mental fuck chess

“Capitalism is blood!” “CHANGE!” “Communism is yoghurt!”

Tom bring an absolute menace during Puppets

“God bless the British Transport Police” (said in the most ‘what am I doing with my life’ voice I’ve ever heard)

“Stay on your stool bitch boy”

“Get your hand out of my car”

[capquinn]

can we get a blurb about quinn telling his parents he’s gonna be a dad, pretty pretty please???? i feel like he’d be nervous to tell them but also bursting at the seams wanting them to know. it’s probably hard for him being so far away for most of the year, that he wants them to be involved as much as they can, but he’d also want to respect his partner’s wishes if she wanted to wait to tell people until she was further along in case something happened

The decision about when to tell Quinn’s family about the baby over Thanksgiving weekend had been made weeks ago, but actually doing it was proving to be a whole different story.

For Quinn, the excitement of telling them had been almost overwhelming at first, a buzz of energy thrumming beneath his skin every time he thought about the moment. He could picture their reactions so clearly: Ellen’s face lighting up with joy and then tears, Jim’s steady pride breaking into a wide grin. He’d played it over in his mind again and again, letting the thought carry him through the quiet moments of doubt.

But now, as the reality of actually saying the words settled in, the nerves crept in too. It wasn’t that he doubted their reaction — they would be thrilled, he knew that. They adored him, a love larger than life itself, their pride woven into every word they spoke about him. A love so steadfast it felt unshakable. And over the years, that same love had effortlessly extended to you, not just welcoming you into their family but embracing you as if you’d always been a part of it.

However, the weight of the moment, of what it symbolised, suddenly felt heavier. This wasn’t just a fleeting piece of good news to share. It was life-changing, not just for him and you, but for them as well. They were about to become grandparents, stepping into a new chapter of their lives, and he couldn’t shake the pressure of wanting the moment to be perfect.

The confidence he’d carried on the flight home for the weekend was slipping, giving way to a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite name. He’d been eager, almost impatient, to share the news, to feel the weight of it lifted and replaced with their joy, their pride, their unwavering support. He wanted them to share in the excitement, to feel connected to this life-changing moment despite the physical miles that often separate them. He needed them to know that their place in this new chapter, as grandparents, was as important to him as the one he was stepping into.

But now, standing on the brink of saying it aloud, a sudden wave of nerves hit him, sharp and unexpected. The enormity of it all — the love, the hope, the vulnerability wrapped in the words — made his throat tighten.

It wasn’t just an announcement. It was a shift, one that would ripple out and reshape everything. Parenthood, after all, was still something the two of you were learning to grasp.

The first evening back home unfolded in the warm glow of Ellen’s kitchen, the scent of roast chicken and fresh-baked bread filling the air. The house alive with warmth — the crackle of the fireplace, the low hum of laughter, and the familiar cadence of Jim’s voice as he spun a tale about the neighbour’s runaway tractor. He gestured animatedly, earning chuckles and interjections from Ellen, who corrected him at every exaggerated turn. It’s a familiar, comforting scene — the kind of moment Quinn usually soaks in without a second thought.

But tonight, his mind is a thousand miles away.

You can feel the tension humming beneath his relaxed posture, the subtle way his fingers tighten around yours every few minutes, like he’s trying to ground himself. His gaze keeps darting to his parents — catching the glint of Ellen’s wedding band as she leans forward in her chair, the crinkle of Jim’s eyes as he laughs at his own joke.

He wants to tell them. You can see it in the way his lips press together, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate breath as though he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

We’re having a baby.

It’s right there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the perfect moment. 

Quinn shifts in his seat, his free hand sliding up to rub the back of his neck as he leans forward slightly. You can feel the faint tremor in his grip as he laces his fingers tighter with yours, like he’s steadying himself for something big.

Jim’s voice carries on in the background, the rich cadence of his story weaving effortlessly with Ellen’s laughter, but Quinn’s focus isn’t there anymore. His gaze is fixed on the table, the firelight catching in his eyes as he takes a deep, deliberate breath.

You recognise the signs immediately. The way his shoulders draw back just slightly, the faint movement of his lips like he’s practicing the words in his head. It’s coming — you can feel it in the subtle shift of his energy, the way his knee bounces once under the table before he stills it with a hand.

He glances at you, and in the flicker of his gaze, you see everything — the love, the nerves, the overwhelming weight of what he wants to say. 

Your expression softens, and you give his hand a gentle squeeze, a quiet I’m here. You’ve got this.

Quinn swallows, his throat working against the knot of emotion rising there. 

“So, uh,” he starts, his voice low and hesitant, barely cutting through the warmth of the room.

Ellen turns toward him, her smile easy and expectant, and Jim sets his drink down, his brows lifting in quiet curiosity.

It’s right there. The words are sitting at the edge of his lips, just waiting to fall out. We’re having a baby.

But they don’t.

Quinn falters, his mouth opening slightly before he closes it again, his jaw tightening as he drops his gaze to his lap. His hand squeezes yours, and the quiet pressure feels like an apology.

Ellen’s eyes flit between the two of you, a flicker of concern crossing her face. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asks gently, her voice laced with the kind of maternal intuition that always catches him off guard.

He looks up at her, his lips curving into a faint, practiced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Nothing,” he says softly, shaking his head. “Just... it’s good to be home. That’s all.”

You watch as Ellen’s concern melts into warmth, her smile returning as she reaches over to squeeze his arm affectionately. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here, too,” she says simply, her love for him evident in every word.

Quinn nods, his gaze falling back to his lap, and you can see the frustration flickering just beneath the surface. He’s upset with himself — not because he doesn’t want to tell them, but because he does. Desperately. He just… can’t.

You lean into him slightly, your shoulder brushing his, and when he looks at you, you offer the smallest smile. He exhales slowly, his grip on your hand relaxing just a bit, and when Jim launches into another story, the tension eases from Quinn’s shoulders — if only for a moment.

The second opportunity comes the next morning, when the day feels impossibly slow and golden, like it’s giving Quinn every chance in the world to speak up. The two of you lie in bed longer than usual, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you talk quietly, voices still hushed with sleep.

“We can’t leave without telling them,” Quinn says suddenly, his voice quiet but resolute, like the realisation is finally settling in. His gaze is fixed somewhere on the ceiling, his brow furrowed in thought, the weight of his words pulling his shoulders just a little tighter. “I just… I want to do it right, you know?”

“I get it,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. His profile is soft in the morning light, his jaw flexing slightly as he wrestles with the thought. “You want it to feel special.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “Exactly. And every time I think about actually saying it, I freeze. Like, what if I screw it up and it’s not as perfect as I want it to be?”

You can’t help the way your heart squeezes a little at the vulnerability in his voice, the honesty of it catching you off guard in the best way. Sliding a little closer, you prop yourself up on one elbow, your hand brushing lightly against his arm. The movement pulls his attention, and for a moment, his eyes flicker to yours before settling back on the ceiling.

“Quinn,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection, “they’re going to love it. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you.”

He doesn’t respond right away, the words settling over him like a quiet balm. His jaw flexes again as he chews on your reassurance, his hand absently dropping to your abdomen. It’s such a natural gesture, like he doesn’t even realise he’s done it, his palm curving gently over the barely-there swell. 

The corners of his lips twitch, like he’s debating whether to believe you. Then he lets out a soft laugh, low and self-deprecating, his free hand coming up to rake through his already-messy hair.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is easy,” you insist, squeezing his arm lightly, your gaze steady on him. “It’s you, Quinn. They’re going to be over the moon no matter how or when you tell them.”

His eyes flick to yours then, something unspoken passing between you — a quiet thank you, maybe, or just an acknowledgment that he’s holding onto your words a little tighter than he lets on. His thumb brushes a slow, thoughtful circle against your skin, and you can feel the tension in his shoulders ease, if only just a little.

“Don’t worry, you’ll tell them today,” you murmur. There’s a quiet encouragement in your voice, a steady belief that seems to seep right into him. Your fingers trace lazy circles over the back of his hand where it rests on your belly.

Quinn nods, his lips twitching into a small, tentative smile. It’s not the full-blown confidence he probably wishes he had, but it’s something — a flicker of determination breaking through the haze of nerves.

“Yeah,” he says softly, the single word carrying more resolve than hesitation. “I will.”

He sounds ready. You believe him. So does he.

And so the morning unfolds beautifully. Ellen, with her usual warmth and efficiency, packs coffee and snacks into a little canvas bag, insisting with a bright smile that everyone take advantage of the clear weather to walk the trails. There’s a lightness to her tone, a sense of simple joy that seems to catch on everyone as they prepare to head out.

Out in the forest, the world feels peaceful, quiet but alive. The rustle of leaves underfoot mingles with the occasional chirp of a bird or the soft swish of wind through the trees. The trail is dappled with sunlight, patches of golden light breaking through the canopy above. Quinn walks beside you, his shoulder bumping yours every now and then as the two of you amble along.

He’s quiet at first, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, but there’s a softness to him that doesn’t feel like nervousness — it feels like he’s soaking it all in. The crisp air, the sound of his parents chatting a few paces ahead, the steady rhythm of your steps beside him.

“You good?” you ask softly, nudging him with your elbow. Your breath fogs slightly in the cool air, and he glances over at you, his lips quirking into a small smile.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low but steady. And for a while, it feels like he means it.

At the overlook at the end of the trail that feels perfect, too. The sunlight glints off the trees, the breeze is cool and gentle, and his parents are close, their laughter light as Ellen unpacks the thermos of coffee. You can feel the moment hanging there, just waiting for Quinn to take it.

He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing slow circles over your knuckles. You glance up at him, catching the way his jaw tightens just slightly, his lips pressing together like he’s rehearsing the words in his head.

“Now’s a good time,” you say softly, tilting your head toward him. Your voice is quiet, meant just for him, but there’s an encouragement in it that you hope will nudge him past whatever’s holding him back.

Quinn nods, his shoulders straightening a little as he draws in a breath. 

His gaze flicks over to his parents, who are standing a few feet away, cups of steaming coffee in their hands as they admire the view. They’re relaxed, happy. Completely unsuspecting.

For a moment, it feels like he’s going to do it. He takes a step forward, clearing his throat softly, and both Ellen and Jim glance over at him. 

“What is it, Quinn?” Ellen asks, her voice warm, a smile playing on her lips.

You watch as Quinn’s hand flexes at his side, his fingers twitching like he’s trying to grab hold of the words before they slip away. 

“I—” he starts, but then his gaze falters, dropping to the ground for a fraction of a second. He hesitates, just long enough for the nerves to creep in.

Jim’s brow lifts slightly, his smile curious. “Everything okay?”

Quinn freezes, his jaw working as if he’s wrestling with the weight of the moment. You see the exact second he decides against it — the subtle shift in his stance, the way his eyes dart back to the view like he’s searching for an escape.

“Yeah,” he says finally, his voice low but steady. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

There’s a beat of quiet, and then Ellen laughs lightly, her attention shifting back to her cup. 

“Good,” she says, clearly not noticing the undercurrent of tension. “Come have some coffee before it gets cold.”

Jim watches Quinn for a second longer, his gaze thoughtful, but he doesn’t press. He just claps a hand on Quinn’s shoulder as he passes, squeezing lightly. 

Quinn exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging just slightly as he turns back to you. His lips twitch into a faint, sheepish smile, and he shrugs like he’s trying to laugh it off. But you know him too well to buy it.

You don’t say anything, just lean into his side a little, the warmth of him grounding in a way words wouldn’t be.

“Just… not yet,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost like he’s saying it to himself more than to you.

You nod, giving his hand another squeeze, a quiet reassurance passing between you. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice just as soft. “You’ll know when the time’s right.”

He breathes out slowly, his gaze flickering back to the view for a moment before settling on his parents again. And even though the moment passes, and the group begins to move again, their laughter breaking through the quiet hum of the forest, you can feel it. The way his hand tightens slightly around yours. The way his shoulders stay just a little too tense as you walk.

He’s still building up to it, you know that. But he’s getting closer.

Back at the house, the moment arises again, this time while everyone is lounging in the living room after lunch. Quinn sits beside you on the couch, one hand cradling his coffee mug, the other resting on your thigh. His parents are across from you, their chairs pulled close to the fire, and the warmth of the room feels almost tangible, a gentle weight of familiarity and love.

He’s relaxed now, leaning back into the cushions, his gaze sweeping over the room like he’s soaking it all in. His hand tightens slightly on your leg, and you glance at him, catching the way his eyes flicker with something you recognise — nerves, anticipation, resolve.

Ellen catches his eye and smiles, tilting her head slightly. “What’s on your mind, Quinn? You’ve been out of sorts today.”

Your heart skips, and you sit up just slightly, willing him forward with the quiet encouragement in your expression. 

This is it. He’s going to say it. You can feel it.

He clears his throat, straightening a little. “Just... uh,” he starts, his voice steady but hesitant. He glances at you, then back at his mom, and his lips twitch into a small, uncertain smile. “Just thinking how I’m gonna miss this when we leave,” he finishes, his tone light but not entirely convincing.

Your shoulders relax, a mix of understanding and disappointment flooding you as you press your knee gently against his. Quinn glances at you, his jaw tightening as he picks up on your unspoken it’s okay. Next time.

Ellen smiles warmly, tilting her head in that soft, motherly way. “It’s not long until Christmas,” she reminds him, though her voice carries a faint wistfulness, like she’s reminding herself too.

Quinn nods. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Not long.”

The following morning unfolds in the quiet, unhurried way that comes after a weekend of family time, everyone savouring these last hours together. The kitchen is warm and familiar, filled with the smell of coffee and the soft sounds of Ellen moving around, flipping pancakes on the griddle. Jim leans against the counter by the sink, drying dishes, while you’re perched on a stool at the island, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Quinn stands a little apart, leaned back against the counter with a piece of toast in hand, his damp hair sticking up in every direction, evidence of a quick shower.

The conversation drifts easily — something about Jim’s plans for the yard that afternoon, Ellen’s pancake technique, a joke about Luke’s questionable cooking skills. But Quinn is quiet, and not in the usual, thoughtful way. His eyes flick between his parents, to you, and back again, a pattern he’s been repeating all weekend. You know he’s been carrying the weight of the news, the excitement and nerves tangling together, keeping him from saying it despite countless opportunities.

And then, just like that, it happens.

“We have something to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but quiet enough that it cuts through the easy flow of conversation. 

The kitchen stills, all eyes turning toward him. Ellen pauses mid-flip, the spatula poised over the griddle, while Jim straightens from his spot near the sink, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What is it?” Ellen asks, her voice soft but expectant, her gaze darting between you both.

Quinn shifts slightly, his toast forgotten on the counter behind him. His hand brushes over the back of his neck, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to back out again, if the nerves will win one last time. 

But then he glances at you, his expression searching, and you nod gently, giving him the encouragement he’s been looking for.

“We’re having a baby,” he says, the words tumbling out in a rush but steady, sure. His voice catches just slightly at the end, but his eyes stay locked on his parents, watching as the meaning sinks in.

For a moment, the room is silent. Ellen stares at him, her eyes wide and unblinking, her hand coming up to her mouth. Jim’s towel stills mid-fold in his hands, his gaze flicking to you as if for confirmation. And then Ellen gasps — a sound so full of joy and disbelief it feels like it fills the entire room.

“Oh my God,” Ellen whispers, her voice trembling as her hand covers her mouth. Her eyes dart between Quinn and you, wide and shimmering with emotion. “A baby? You’re having a baby?” She looks at you then, as if she needs your confirmation to believe it’s true.

Quinn nods, and the soft, tentative smile that had been tugging at his lips finally breaks free. It spreads wide, unstoppable, lighting up his entire face. 

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and steady but filled with something raw and achingly real. “We’re having a baby.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world feels suspended, as if the house itself is holding its breath. Then Ellen moves, her emotions bursting forth as she crosses the kitchen in a blur, her arms outstretched. She pulls Quinn into a fierce hug, her laugh bubbling up through a flood of tears.

“Oh, Quinn,” she says, her voice breaking with joy. “A baby. My baby’s having a baby.” Her hands cradle his face for a moment before she hugs him again, tighter this time, as if she can pour every ounce of love she feels into him.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around her as his chin rests against the top of her head. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

When Ellen pulls back, her focus shifts immediately to you. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, rounding the island with tears streaming down her face. “A baby. Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She pulls you into a tight hug, her warmth and joy washing over you in waves. “You’re going to be incredible parents. Both of you.”

Jim moves forward more slowly, his hand landing firmly on Quinn’s shoulder as a wide smile spreads across his face. 

“This is incredible news, son,” he says, his voice steady but with an unmistakable quiver of emotion. “Congratulations. To both of you.”

Quinn exhales then, properly exhales, like the weight of all his nerves and hesitations has finally lifted. 

For the rest of the morning, the kitchen hums with joy. Ellen flits between the stove and you, her emotions spilling over every time she catches Quinn’s eye. She can’t seem to stop smiling, crying, or imagining the tiny new addition to the family. 

“How have you been feeling?” she asks, her eyes searching yours with a mother’s concern. “If you need anything, you’ll let me know, right?”

Her hand briefly brushes over your arm, the gesture warm and reassuring, and you nod, assuring her that you’ve been well, that Quinn has been attentive, that everything is as it should be. It’s impossible not to smile at the way her joy bubbles over, filling every corner of the kitchen like sunlight.

Quinn, for his part, has shed every trace of hesitation. He talks easily now, the nerves replaced by an earnest kind of excitement. He shares the small details — the due date, how you found out, how ready the two of you feel — and every word seems to deepen the pride in Jim’s expression. He stands quietly nearby, his presence grounding and constant, his smile unwavering.

When it’s finally time to leave, the hugs linger. Ellen pulls Quinn close, whispering something through her tears before letting him go to hold you just as tightly. Jim’s hand finds Quinn’s shoulder again, squeezing it once in a way that says everything without words. There’s an unspoken promise in their goodbyes, a warmth that stays even as the front door closes behind you.

Quinn doesn’t say much as he helps you into the car, his hand brushing over your back as he opens the door. But as he settles into the driver’s seat, he glances back at the house one last time, his expression soft, a little dazed. When he turns to you, his smile is quiet, content, the kind that makes your heart ache in the best way. 

As you drive away, the crisp Michigan air shifting through the windows, his hand finds yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in that familiar, absent minded way, and you realise that for the first time all weekend, there’s nothing holding him back. The weight is gone, replaced by something steadier — joy, contentment, and the simple knowledge that everything is exactly as it should be.

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

if you still do them, is it okay you do like one shots with ROTTMNT boys and a little sibling reader?

but here’s the thing, the reader is a little pink gecko with yellow spots, they’re around 10 or 9 years old and can run just as fast as sonic the hedgehog and basically have the energy of a golden retriever, they’re like a tiny dragon and it’s adorable yet SO. FREAKING. EXHAUSTING!!

❝ pink bubbles and banana laffy taffy!! ❞

₊˚꒰🥞꒱‧ — 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠!𝐠𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

｡˚ 𓂋 🍋﹒✦﹒✿ ˚

❝l ɑׁׅ֮/ꪀׁׅ : okay i had to squeeze this one out because OHMIGOSH it is SO. CUTE!!!! i literally got soso excited when i read this because how did you know i'm legitimately obsessed with geckos?! 😭 i literally downloaded picsart to make that collage and wrote this in the span of a day or two because i got so excited aausghshdh !! fluffybun24, fluffy, darlin'. grips your shoulders and brushes your cheek tenderly. thank you. also, i'm just now realizing you asked for one shots after the fact ajsjjhd I AM SO SORRY I DIDN'T REALIZE UNTIL AFTER RE-READING IT after writing this whole thing out XD DX but foremost, i must tell you that i mostly do my fandom writing in headcanon/reaction formats !! :(( one shot(s) aren't really my forte . . . albeit, i do hope this is just as good !! o7

(honorable mention: @agentturtlecupcake *HARSHLY NUDGES YOU* HEY. HEY LOOK. LOOKLOOKLOOOKLOKKOKLOKOOOKKLLOOOOOOOK. IT'S the, k-KID-🩷💛)

˙🍋 ̟ !! ─ oh my goodness me, you are the simultaneous love and light, the bane and exhaustion, of everyone's respective lives.

don't get me wrong, your family absolutely adores you!!

especially since you're :(( the baby :(( aww :(((

it just, kinda freaks everyone thafuq OUT when you zip and zoom and flash everywhere

just. a maniacal streak of pink and yellow.

they don't know peace because of you. (affectionate!)

like they will be mindin' their whole business in its entirety and here you come

"*walks into the main living room* heeeeeyy, anybody seen my jupiter jim issue— [*nyooom!*] SWEET MOTHER OF G O D–"

it's not like you ever have ill intentions, tho 🥹 so it's okay.

"they're cute so it's okay!" — all of your siblings at one point, probably

while they do accept your golden retriever tendencies, it be givin' them gray hairs fr 💀✋

especially because you're so f a s t

you're there one moment then next thing they know you're halfway across the entire lair, tittering and chirping happily away.

˙🍋 ̟ !! ─ so, over the course of your life, they've all developed their own designated role when keeping up with you:

raph . . .

being the oldest definitely feels the most responsible for you and acts on it! he himself has developed a sixth sense for when you zoom by and can catch you with (relative) ease every time, and has definitely saved your butt from like. accidentally crashing into a wall or smth sjsjsj

but big bubba can't prevent everything :\ so you have gotten some owies !!

but you can always count on him to be there to help you feel better.

he's your biggest bro 🥹 he always makes you feel better.

but i imagine u're also a maniacal little shit (*cough* thanks leo *COUGH*)

so sometimes you just, str8 up run away from him like ACTIVELY escape his grasp

it deffo takes some effort 😮‍💨 (petition : #saveraphfromhissiblings /lh)

"[NAME]?! Get back here, you little speed monster!!"

*cue toiny baby gecko squealing and The Daily Chase commencement*

oh yeah. it's a daily occurrence.

you stress him out 🤣😭 but it's okay. :))

(after catching you in his hands, holding you up to eye level): "Alright, you little goober. That's enough outta ya today." "But Raaaaph!!"

and then you can't really do anything because raph knows your sweet spot, your little switch, that melts you like putty - a little patch riiiight in the center of your upper back, a well-pressurized scritch is all it takes really, and oh. there we go. down for a nap !

however you simply must have your grand rebellion moments and give him arm gummy bites the entire time but he's the just personification of "😇😌"

ain't no doubting he loves you tho. adores you, really; your bright bubbliness is what makes him smile most days, and even tho your energy is a bit much for him to keep up with, and he'd really like it if you stopped fighting him for afternoon naps sometimes, i don't think he'd change it for the world.

leo . . .

is one who's fairly on par with your hyperactivity, so he's the one we all turn to when your excitement is bubbling over into something a liiiiittle too much :'))

playing tag when you're zooming to and fro is one of you guys' favorites.

but sometimes he doesn't play fair and uses his odachi to teleport >:((

and if you get genuinely upset, he just scoops you up and blows raspberries on your soft lil tummy.

he's the only one who can wear you out so he's an essential part of everyone's lives asksksjd

but bc of this

HE PROBABLY USES YOU AS COLLATERAL TO GET THINGS HE WANTS I'M NOT EVEN PLAYIN

"LEO!!! Ugghhghhh, can you please handle them?!"

"Mmmhmmmmmmm....."

"L E O ಠಗಠ! For the last time, you are NOT choosing for movie night tonight and the kind of pizza!! You've had it all week!!!"

"Ohh, suddenly I have no capability for one very specific baby cotton candy-banana pudding gecko..... Shame. Woeful, horrible, terrible, shame—"

"LEO!!!"

he's a jerk, but he's highkey your idol and he would give the entire world for you in a heartbeat, so :))

donnie . . .

acts like your hyperactivity is an inconvenience...... but in reality, he doesn't mind it.

(only when it compromises his tech. you've only had one to two incidents involving his lab before permanent damage control was done and it's been this way ever since. 😭✋)

sure, sometimes your wild nature can make him cringe on bad days, but what's a sibling if they don't get tired of your antics once every while?

it's healthy development !!

plus. he himself has his moments where his lowkey descent into madness shows its peak, so he can't really talk.

you've all got your quirks, y'know? (/ref)

in truth he accepts it as a part of you, and he loves all of you - i mean c'mon, you're his baby sibling.

and even tho he doesn't openly admit it nearly as much as the rest of your family - he really does think you're adorable.

and in more truth: donnie takes care of you a lot. like- as soon as you started showing signs of your speediness and just-consumed-five-bags-of-candy excitement levels, he completely baby proofed the lair 😭

and you can't tell me he didn't know you'd possess those superhuman levels of speed bro you CAN'T

that man is a scientist and he leaves no stone unturned, especially when it comes to his family.

he has you microchipped too sjjsjdh

[ i just thought of this just now, actually: he and leo are a team when it comes down to your genetics/biological health. donnie researches with his stem-augmented brain and studies your dna down to the very microfiber; leo adapts with his medical affinities to make sure you're the healthiest little gecko mutant kiddo you can be. <3 ]

WE MAY HAVE MADE FUN OF HIM AT THE MOMENT, because how much harm can one baby gecko do Donnie you silly fool honhonhonhon BUT HE'S THE ONLY 👏 ONE 👏 WHO CAME IN CLUTCH.

very much "who's laughing now?"

certainly donnie. my bet's on donnie.

"THEY ALL LAUGHED. THEY CALLED ME A SILLY FOOL. BUT FEAST YOUR EYES, BRETHREN. EATETH THY WORDS!!" "..... Raphie! Bonbon's doin' that crazy scientist shtick again!!" "[NAME]. >:("

on another note, i feel donnie would extend that branch of 'baby-proofing' and relate it to the gift he created for you. [ ref: s1/ep2 — "donnie's gifts" ]

maybe it was something like . . . a malleable sludge, some sort of putty, that melded perfectly over your legs whenever you were starting to get too speedy.

you were initially excited over the cute little metal band anklets gifted to you by your older brother, buuut once it activated .... :((

it made you big sads. :((

being a little speedykins was your most defining trait !! why would donbon try to take that away from you?? :(( donnie :((( donbon why :(((

.... what you don't know, (and me either tbh, we never got that 'explanation' from the inventor himself), is that donnie made it with your specs in mind.

geckos are able to climb vertical surfaces (with some exceptions of course, but for the most part !!) — when activated, those little "putty bands" would've aided in that.

because donnie knows how much you love to run around, especially climbing up the walls, but you can't stick up there forever.

was it made to simultaneously slow your ass down? yes. 🤣😭

(he's only one man what do you want from the poor guy ☠✋ your drive by's were enough to send him into cardiac arrest every time)

...... was it made to adhere to nearly any and every surface texture known to man & mutant kind? for an unprecedented amount of time? with the intentions of you having so much fun with it? also yes.

was it made with intricate care and with, overall, your best interests at heart?

yes.

but after the whole ordeal, he really did mean it when he says you're great just the way you are. :))

in your calmer moments, he likes to have you wrap around his shoulders like a fashion designer scarf and taps at your cute little tail, half as a stim, half as a gesture of affection, while he's in the lab focusing on his latest project

or even just. vibing. y'all are primetime vibey.

he finds your weight comforting. like a tiny weighted pillow.

and he'll never admit that he feels his heart nearly burst with love and pure fondness when you yourself happily curl up into your brother and fall asleep there, cooing softly into his ear.

he built a little comfort bed/pillow extension for you in his battle shell for such occasions <3

but he prefers the sibling cuddles without his shell on.

he trusts you, after all.

(i will never financially recover from this aksjddh SOBBING)

mikey . . .

is exceptionally good at matching all of your moods: your bubbly hyperactivity and bringing you to a calmer, serene state !!

how does he do it. 🧍

he catches you in his arms and strokes/scratches your back to calm you down, and it works like a charm every time !

he never has to use dr. delicate touch on you. despite being the closest in age, surprisingly, you listen to mikey very well !

call it survivor's intuition 🫠 orrrr just the fact that you and mikey are very close and in-tune with one another,

whenever he calls it quits for you - no matter how much you might whine and pout - you genuinely do tone it down.

i know i said this for leo too but i feel like mikey just has that magic touch. yenno?

no pun intended. ha.

but en ee wayz !! yusssss, mikey and [name] are the cutest little goobers.

y'all deffo get roped together being the "babies" of the family,

and despite mikey wanting to outfit that mold — mostly by means of appeasing to raph's overprotective tendencies — he babies you a bit too !!

you like to poke fun. you're observant, clever little thing. you call mikey out on it, going so far as to call him a hypocrite,

and whether you guys have a serious discussion or not is completely up to you !

but for the time being he just pets your head and affectionately tells you to hush, and keeps right on babying you.

he likes being your older brother !! so sue him !!

dynamics change the older you guys get =] so who knows what the future has in store?

you're one of his favorite muses. your color palette never fails to strike inspiration within him 🎨✨

when he catches your pink n' yellow blur in passing, he can come up with an entire idea for murals to tag around, don't play w him

he likes to do body paint on you too !! :))

(completely safe + free of harmful chemicals wbk)

probably makes flowers out of your polka dots (he definitely calls them that) or connects them to make a bigger picture.

he made an entire field of flowers and koi fish pond encompassing your back one time and you absolutely loved it.

you'll always be his little muse 💔

"[Nameeee]!!~ C'mere, polka dot! You wanna see if I can make a constellation this time?" "YAY!!!!" "Wait- waitwaitWAITWAIT SLOW DOWN—" [ *cue wii bowling ball strike sound sequence* ]

˙🍋 ̟ !! ─ ahaaa. overall, you're their cute little ball of sunshine. their little sugar carnival. their little pink bubblegum and banana laffy taffy gecko baby! and — while you being.... you, can get just shy of unbearable sometimes, they wouldn't trade you for this world and all the others.

after all, what's a family if you don't accept every part of them? no matter how exhausting it is. <3 you're a handful, but that's why you've got six pairs. and as the years go on, it only grows.

@chachachannah + @sweetparty for the dividers 🩷 @cureqt for the cute emoji combo 💛 & pinterest for the pictures! [the collage is by me!!] 🥰

⟆ ˙🍋 ̟ !! ─ further author notes . . .

™ : as always, susceptible to future editing for grammatical/formatting corrections !!

i absolutely loveddd writing this!! and for the intricacy, this is the quickest i've ever pulled a request-bun fresh from the oven!! :o kudos to you, fluffy! <3 i do hope you like this as much as i did aaaa!! now i've got polka dot gecko sibling brainrot. 🥴 it's true: you never know it's a good idea until it's presented to you !!

a couple of fun facts: "sugar carnival" is a term coined by me, in reference to one of my free verse poems a while back! i, also, consider myself a sugar carnival being at most times ˶ᵔᗜ ᵔ˶ & i came up with the title on the spot after hearing + envisioning "pink gecko with yellow spots". ideal color combo, criminally underrated. fluffy your brain deserves a pedestal and i will personally create it for you with my bare hands.✋🩷💛

╰┈➤ tues. jan 23, 9:18 pm, '24.

[follows-the-bees]

Ned Low not only uses the violin as the instrument of torture but he uses humans as well. He strung the violin with the guts of his brother. And he uses torture — his victims — as "music."

Stede observes everything and learns not only about Ned but the crew (mercenaries) he hired.

We see both Stede's strengths and how his way of piracy is always superior then the old ways: in this case: Ned's way. This is something we've seen over and over again and through the crew: Jim's story at the end of S1 to make Fang feel better, the crew showing kindness and mercy to Izzy, etc.

First, Ned comes in and plays with Ed's hair, touching him without his permission, just like several others have done: Izzy and the person at the French party.

During this, Ed uses his experience and starts to get down to the root of Ned: family issues. We see how nonchalant Ed is (whether it's out upon or not), this is not the theatrics of Blackbeard, but rather Ed reacting to another pirate — one we also know he egged on by beating his record. (There's an argument to be made that those raids are also a love letter to Stede., but that's another thread.) He tries to protect Stede just like during the British squad, and earlier when the cannonball goes off.

When they are on deck again, Stede uses all of his strengths. Taking what Ed learned and his own observational skills. He first uses the disgruntled crew to turn against Ned. They bond and even tell personal things about themselves.

This is strike one of using humans — Ned's first instruments of torture — against him. He no longer has mercenaries but he also no longer has the Cat Bandits to torture.

The second strike comes when Stede throws the fiddle at Ned, sending him into the dark depths of the sea. With no humans to torture, the instrument could be useless, but Stede uses it to turn the torture around on Ned. No longer a victim but taking charge of his bullies. It's different than the Badmintons, who came to their own demise by accidental means, instead Ned's comes to his demise but his own hubris and Stede's decision to take his first kill.

This is similar to the French Party, when Stede uses the high societies not-so-classy secrets against them. The same thing happens, they set their own ship on fire. But Stede's reaction after both events is different. He has Ed to be there for him after both though.

I love this scene because we are the strengths of both Ed (not BB but Ed) and Stede together. How besides trying to protect Stede from physical harm, Ed is happy to let Stede take the lead, knowing that he's "got this." He knows from past experience (the French party) but he also trusts Stede and Stede's way of piracy.

[tmntxthings]

Could we please have some head cannons with the rise boys reactions to their best friend/crush laughing and giggling on the phone like a maniac?

Who would be the most jealous and how would they go about it?

Also, i love your work sm. 💜💜💜💜

Jealous Headcanons

author’s note: thank you, hope you enjoy this one as well, sorry for the wait c:

warnings: none to note, unedited

—————————————————————————

Mikey wouldn’t be jealous, though he’d definitely get nosy and ask, “What’s so funny angel??” He’d have a grin on his face just from your laughter. Because duh even if it’s not due to his jokes he likes to see you happy! Dare I even say he would be the least jealous of all his brothers? I think Mikey would instantly be trying to befriend all of your friends just so everyone could hang out together! Though if you ignore his question and just keep on laughing he may get a little butt-hurt. Expect him to start getting closer, and closer to wherever you’re lounging. His eyes twitching with a bit of mania in his grin now, “C’monnn I wanna know too!!” If you’re still keeping quiet and ignoring him then maybe you should get ready for him to jump you completely. In your lap, wanting recognition, “Hellooo I know you hear me!!! Is this a prank?? Am I being recorded???”

Raph is honestly just happy you’re here. The worst you can do to this turtle is be gone too long from his side. Remember he isn’t too keen on being alone. I think he would be like Mikey in that your laughter is infectious and he’d probably be grinning to himself despite not knowing why you’re even laughing. If the phone call goes on forever though he may get a little jealous that you’re here with him yet not really paying much attention. He’ll go grab one of his stuffed teddies for comfort. All the while giving you looks of longing. His snaggle-tooth digging into his lower lip because he doesn’t really want to interrupt your call. But his body language is begging the person on the other end of the call to hang up already!!

Donnie would play off his jealousy with annoyance. You were over in his lab and the incessant giggles were becoming a distraction. He’d huff and throw glares your way, trying to catch your gaze so you would maybe feel a tad guilty for being so obnoxious in his presence! Who was making you laugh so hard anyway?? And he thought he was the funny one! He’d start grumbling and mumbling to himself that maybe you should just go over to this person’s cool lab and listen to all their jokes in person! He’d sulk once you were off the phone, completely denying any form of the word jealousy. “Jealous?! Hah! That’s preposterous does he have a fully decked out turtle tank? Or a genius-built lab? OR-“ the list would go on and on until you sedated him with cuddles and compliments.

Leo would be the most jealous. Why? Because he thinks he’s funnier. Plain and simple. Laughing at even his brothers makes him twinge with a bit of jealousy. So you can just imagine his heated stare from above his Jupiter Jim comic when you answer a phone call from “just a friend” and its been over ten minutes with nonstop laughter. He loves his comics but this one may be a bit crinkled due to his own strength getting the best of him. When your phone call is over he doesn’t know whether to ignore you purposely out of spite, or try to get you to laugh even harder at his own jokes to rebuild his pride. If you told him whatever joke had made you laugh so hard, he’d deny it was funny at all. “That’s funny to you??” He’d sneer. “If you say so!” Leo is p-e- to the t-t-y!