verycoolusername1 - Tumblr blog

verycoolusername1 · 7 days ago

Text

family addition (quinn hughes x gf!reader)

summary: reader finds a stray kitten and decides to bring it home, not telling quinn about it until he gets back from his roadie

warnings!! cursing

a/n: another short fic while i'm writing a longer one. also ik that it's a much longer process to adopt a stray and get it's shots, but this is fiction. i had to give some love to playoff beard quinn bc we love him sm.

wc: 1.8k

10pm walking home from the gym became a routine. You always preferred to go at night, considering there were less people men to bother you. It was about a .5 mile walk back to your apartment that you shared with Quinn. You weren’t too worried about walking alone at night considering you trusted the city, and Quinn always made you carry a taser in your belt bag. He was unfortunately out of town for the next few days, playing the Canadiens and the Leafs. Still every night you would make your walk to and from the gym, headphones out in case anything were to happen, and every night it was normal, except tonight. It was drizzling ever so slightly causing your annoyance to peak as you made your way back. The drizzle quickly turned into a more powerful downfall the closer you got to the building. Frustratingly you sprinted your way up the steps, punching in your passcode at the door ready to go inside, when you heard a faint “meow” from the bushes next to you. You stepped away from the door, trying to follow the sound of coos and whines. You leaned down on the pavement to the plants where you saw the smallest gray kitten you’d ever seen. It was alone in the dark, in the rain, pleading with you to give it shelter.

“Hey angel.” You spoke softly, reaching your hand out towards the kitten. It immediately moved closer, nuzzling its head in your palm. Your eyes turned into hearts at the sight, knowing you couldn’t just leave it out here in the rain. You weren’t even thinking about what you were doing when you gently picked the cat up, bringing it inside with you. Both you and the kitten were grateful for the warmth of the heating system inside. It trembled in your arms, its tiny body pressing closer to you as if to soak up every bit of warmth it could find. You carefully carried the kitten up to the apartment, cooing soft reassurances as you climbed the stairs. By the time you unlocked the door, it had relaxed in your arms, a quiet purring sound vibrating against your chest. The sight was so adorable to you, you almost cried. That night the kitten slept in the bed with you, curled up against your chest. The next day was spent at the vet's office, getting it the right shots to be sustainable, then the pet store to get food. You spent the whole day with this kitten, falling in love with it by the minute. The thought of Quinn’s reaction crossed your mind several times throughout the day. You didn’t know what to expect, considering you’d never talked about pets with him. You’d seen how much he loved his parents' golden retriever, but you didn’t know how he was with cats. After all, it was his apartment so he ultimately had the final say on keeping Puck or not. That's the name you gave him after finding out his gender, hoping that the hockey roots would make Quinn fall in love just like you had. The cat slept curled up to you once again for the second night. In the morning, you got out of bed quickly knowing that Quinn would be home soon. You knew how he was after long roadies; tired, hungry, and mentally exhausted. You left Puck in the bedroom, shutting the door behind you, to start making breakfast. You decided to make Quinn’s favorite, chocolate chip pancakes topped with strawberries and whipped cream in hopes that it would sway his decision. You had a soft playlist ringing quietly throughout the house, mostly Cigarettes After Sex. You piled three pancakes on a plate, quickly topping it when you heard the lock of the door twisting. Quinn entered the apartment wearing a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair falling messily in his face. His beard had grown ever so slightly since he left last week, and you made a mental note to tell him how sexy it looked later.

“Hey, baby.” Quinn placed his suitcase by the door, quickly walking over to engulf you in the longest embrace ever. You took in the scent of his cologne as his grip around your waist tightened. “What are you doing up so early?” He said before placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s not early, it’s 9.” You laughed, running your hand along his bicep, grateful he was finally home.

“You’re avoiding the question.” He smiled softly as you ran your fingers through his tousled hair, covering his face. You slipped out of his grasp to turn around and present him with your homemade breakfast. “No way.” He said, quickly taking the plate from your hands. He sat at one of the barstools along the kitchen island, already diving into your hard work. “What’d you do?” He asks in between bites, mouth full.

“What are you talking about?” You gave him a sly smile, leaning against the kitchen sink across from him.

“You only make these when you’ve done something wrong.” He shakes his head looking down at the plate.

“What? No! I made them just to show you how much I love and missed you.” You couldn’t have sounded more guilty which he took note upon, squinting his eyes and sending you a half smile. He laughed it off and the two of you continued your small chats as he devoured the pancakes down to the plate. He told you stories about the guys from this week's games, and you told him about brunch with your friends and your shopping trip. You left out a key detail; there was a kitten in his bedroom. You had let it slip your mind, forgetting about it entirely. When he was done with his breakfast, he loaded his plate into the dishwasher, and the two of you went to the couch to relax. You were both sitting up, your head leaning on his shoulder while his arm wrapped around you. He went to pick up the tv remote when you heard a little “meow” coming from the bedroom. Your heart dropped in hopes that maybe he didn’t hear it?

“What was that?” Fuck. he heard it.

“What was what?” You laughed it off, trying to play dumb, but the cat cooed again.

“That!” He said, desperately trying to figure out what it was and where it was coming from.

“M-maybe it’s the stove. I probably forgot to turn it off.” You quickly got up from your seat, headed towards the kitchen.

“Stove doesn’t sound like that, baby.” He said looking back at you from the couch. You were pretending to adjust the stove when you heard the kitten begin to scratch at the bedroom door. “Hey, babe?”

“Hm?” You cracked out, anxiety filling your lungs.

“What’s scratching at the door?”

“The…stove?” You let out, not able to find a better excuse. Quinn started walking towards the bedroom, to which you responded by racing there first, standing in front of the door to block him.

“What did you do?” He asked in his gentle parenting voice.

“I- uh…I love you?” You gave him a sheepish smile. He tilted his head to the side, his face becoming more stern. “Okay okay- just…Ugh!” You covered your face with your hands. “Just shut your eyes and hold out your hands.” Quinn did just that, stepping out of the way so you could open the door. When you turned the knob, Puck was sitting there in desperate need of affection. You pouted your lips at the kitten, knowing this may be the end of your wonderful friendship. He eagerly climbed into your arms, and you handed him over to Quinn whose eyebrows furrowed trying to figure out what was in his hands. “Okay, open.” Quinn looked down at the kitten, widening his eyes. His mouth parted slightly but no words were able to escape as he pulled it up to his chest. His eyes quickly softened when the cat curled up into him, purring against him. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation wondering what he would say, but his attention was fixated on Puck. “I found him outside the building I had to take him in.”

“Baby-”

“It was raining.” You gave him puppy eyes. “He was all alone in the cold city.” You pet the kitten's head. Quinn sighed and threw his head back slightly.

“He’s really fuckin’ cute.” He said, causing a hopeful laugh to escape your lips. “But, we can’t keep him.” You looked up at him, eyebrows knitted and pouting your lips.

“But, wh-”

“It’s just too much, babe. We’re always out of town, you have work, and I don’t even know if the complex allows pets.” He gave you a sympathy filled half smile.

“For god's sake, you’re Quinn Hughes! I'm sure the complex would allow the captain of their favorite hockey team to keep a kitten, especially one as precious as Puck.”

“Puck?”

“Yeah, that’s what I named him. Figured if I added a bit of hockey into the mix it might sway your vote.” You spoke softly, tears welling in your eyes. Quinn sighed heavily, looking down at the kitten who’d fallen asleep in his arms, then back to you. He knew adopting a cat wasn’t the most responsible thing to do at this time, but he also couldn’t bear the sight of you like this.

“Since you’ve already grown so attached to Puck in the last two days, I suppose he can stay.” You looked up at him, your smile growing wider by the second. “Don’t make me regret this.” He laughed, stroking the kitten’s head with his finger.

“Thank you, thank you, thank youuu!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arm around his neck for a hug, making sure to not squish the kitten. “I love you so so much!” You began placing kisses all around his face, until eventually landing a peck on his lips. His face grew red and his smile widened before pulling you back down to the couch with the kitten in his hands. You all got settled into your spots, your head lying down on his thigh, sharing the spot with Puck as Quinn gently rubbed your back. Quinn put on a romcom the two of you had seen several times, just happy that he was finally home, even if it meant he had to deal with a new roommate.

“If this thing pisses on any of my furniture-”

“He won’t.” You dragged out in playful annoyance. Quinn sighed, trying to keep his moody attitude, but eventually failing, realizing why you wanted the kitten to stay so bad. He pet Puck gently, watching as he curled up into a ball on his lap. He couldn’t help smiling in awe, grateful that you had been so impulsive on your walk back home from the gym.

“You love him.” You mumbled, smiling as you drifted into sleep.

“Shut up.” He chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. “Maybe just a little.”

457 notes · View notes

verycoolusername1 · 7 days ago

Text

In honor of tate announcing her new album and tour today...

LIVE NOW, THINK LATER — quinn hughes

SUMMARY! the reader goes out to the bar with her friends to celebrate the reader’s commencement from law school as the top of her class and meets quinn hughes who is out celebrating a win against the Boston Bruins

INVOLVED! quinn hughes x fem reader!

WARNINGS! none, just a bad bitch reader

BEFORE YOU START! i don’t know how the hughes act irl! this is just an imagination!

extra! could be a part 1..... lmk if you want a part 2

find → fairy poet masterlist!

live now think later, i do it so well

Shooting a flirty smile and her ID to the bouncer at the front of the club, y/n smiled as the bouncer gave her a nod and opened the door into the club. Her friends were already inside, waiting for her.

The music in the club was thunderous and she could feel her excitement pumping. She had been working hard every day, no breaks, for the past 3 years to finally get her JD degree which mean she had no time to party.

But it was like her mom always said, “Work hard, play harder.”

Well she worked her ass off. She graduated top of her class, had a job lined up as an associate attorney at a reputable firm with ranks to climb, and pulled multiple all nighters at the library, sacrificing personal time to be the best.

It was now time to party and celebrate with her best friends who had been begging for her to live out their old college ways. Now that she had graduated, she finally had time to give it last one hurrah. Being in her early-twenties, single, and in law school, she never had time to pursue a relationship, only hookups, and that was rare.

Y/n could feel the crowd looking at her as she traversed her way to the bar. Y/n was dressed– a perfect dime, if you could say. Her friends spotting her, gave her the biggest smile and waved her over.

“Babe, you look absolutely stunning!” Y/bf/n said, giving her a hug.

“Thanks,” y/n said, giving her a smile. “I’m not used to not wearing sweatpants and a hoodie all day.”

Y/n followed that by shooting a smile to the bartender.

“Can I do a whiskey ginger please?”

“Anything for a lady as pretty as yourself,” he replied, shooting me a drink.

“I’ll just close the tab,” y/n responded, handing him $10.

The girls chatted, catching up on life, talking about y/n’s commencement speech earlier that day.

“You literally made me tear up,” y/bf/n said.

Y/n kept sipping her drink, her eyes gravitating to the table hidden in the back of the club, sectioned away from the public area. She looked over at the boys, her eyes landing on a certain blue-eyed boy, smiling with a few guys. Like if the boy had felt her staring at him, he looked up, and directly made eye contact with y/n, shooting her a smile.

Oh man he is cute y/n thought.

She gave him a smirk in reply.

“Hey could I buy a drink for that guy over there?” Y/n asked the bartender.

“Yeah, what drink?”

“Can I just buy one of those beers he’s drinking? Oh and could I maybe write a message on the bottle?”

“Shoot your shot, girl,” The bartender said, handing her the unopened beer and a marker.

The outside of the beer bottle was wet due to condensation, yet, y/n managed to write a little something.

Meet me on the dancefloor.

She handed the bartender the beer back, giving him a tip, before making eye contact with the boy as a server walked the beer over to him.

The server and the boy exchanged words before the server walked away, the boy reading what was written on the beer bottle, his eyes squinting due to the dim light in the bar.

Y/n watched as his buddies leaned in to read the message before they laughed and tapped him on the back. The boy looked up and met her eyes, his buddies following his line of sight before giving the girl a wave.

Y/n chugged the remainder of her drink and told the girls she wanted to dance and they could see she had a trick up her sleeve so they nodded, keeping a watchful eye on y/n.

She headed to the dancefloor, the alcohol in her body giving her a sense of serenity and confidence. She closed her eyes, getting lost to the beat of the music, moving her hips, before she felt a presence next to her.

Her eyes immediately opened, a smile enveloping her face as she saw it was the guy she had sent the beer to.

met you in a night out in Boston put your hand on my thigh in the Commons

“You look even cuter up close,” Y/n said, giving the guy a small smirk. “I’m y/n,” She said, giving out her hand to him to shake.

“I’m Quinn. I must say, I’ve never received one of those beer tricks ever,” he said, shaking my hand.

“Hmm, have girls hit on you all the time?”

He looked surprised.

“Yeah, most of the time when I’m out with my team,” he said.

“Team?” Y/n asked, cocking her head to the side in confusion.

“I’m a hockey player,” Quinn said, watching the confusion turn to realization.

“Sick. Sorry to tell you though,” y/n said, “I’m big Bruins fan,” she said, shrugging.

“Yeah, we won against them tonight, actually,” Quinn said, giving her a smile.

Y/n’s face dropped. “Damn, tough loss for me, I guess,” she said, letting out a small laugh.

The song turned into a much slower one.

“C’mon dance with me,” y/n said, taking the boy’s hands before dropping them.

“Wait, sorry, can I touch you?” she asked, waiting for his consent.

He nodded before reaching out for her hands again.

Y/n took them and placed them on her waist and pulled him closer to her, her hands looping into his suit pants.

dance with ya, hand in my back pocket

“So how long are you in the city for?” Y/n asked the shy boy.

“We’re here until tomorrow afternoon before we fly back to Vancouver.”

“Hmm, the Canucks, I’m guessing,” Y/n said, getting a good look at his face, seeing a faint scar running across his lip.

He gave me a nod.

The pair kept dancing on the floor, talking to each other, before y/n started to get thirsty again.

She took the boy’s hand and led him to the bar.

Y/n could feel the connection between her and Quinn and wondered if he could feel it too. Call it intuition. Y/n has had her fair share of relationships through college, yet nothing had felt like what she had with Quinn, a guy she barely even knew.

“One rum and coke andd–”

“Just a coke for me,” Quinn finished.

Y/n gave the bartender a $20 before Quinn could even take out his card.

The girl gave him a triumphant smile before sitting down at one of the stools, the boy situating himself between her legs.

“Acting like a boyfriend, aren’t you?” Y/n joked, making fun of how the boy had a protective hand on her thigh.

Quinn laughed, keeping his hand on her thigh. “How could I not, gotta show the other guys that you’re not available for tonight.”

She gave him an indecipherable look.

Maybe he did feel the connection she did.

She sipped her drink, almost finishing the cocktail in one sip.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, leaning in closer.

Y/n nodded before setting her finished drink aside.

She leaned in and kissed him, feeling the butterflies in her stomach.

“What do you say about getting out of here,” Y/n asked, finally breaking the kiss, her swollen lips flushed red.

She usually was good with getting guys into bed with her. Her beautiful looks gave her a massive advantage with the guys. But this one was different. She wanted him. She never offered her own apartment, always hooking up at the guy’s place.

“My apartment is only a few blocks away.”

The boy’s eyes had that lustfilled look.

“Let’s go,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out the club.

it's not a good night if you don't take it too far

WC: 1330

489 notes · View notes

verycoolusername1 · 8 days ago

Note

I can’t stop thinking about Quinn’s son having the same little cheek birthmark or whatever that is on him too. A literal tiny Quinn makes my baby fever go insane

STOP bc Quinn’s son is his literal mini me, down to every tiny feature. It’s honestly the cutest, most insane thing, like they copy and pasted Quinn and hit shrink.

He’s got Quinn’s big, soft eyes, that same hazel colour. And his hair? It’s already showing hints of those darker waves, exactly like Quinn’s, and every time you brush a little curl away from his forehead, it’s like you’re looking at a baby version of Quinn himself.

And his smile? Even as a baby, he’s got this slow, soft grin that creeps up just like Quinn’s. It’s that same shy smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes immediately, but when it does, it’s pure warmth. And sometimes, when he’s really happy, he’ll get this little dimple on one side, something that’s undeniably his daddy. It’s sort of of smile that stops everyone in their tracks.

But that little birthmark on his cheek… it’s almost uncanny. It’s in the exact same spot as Quinn’s, and it’s the first thing people notice. Even strangers will say, “oh, he looks just like his dad,” just from that one little detail. But it’s not just that; he’s got Quinn’s same soft, rounded cheeks and those delicate eyebrows. They give him this gentle expression, like he’s quietly taking everything in, even if it’s just the ceiling fan or the lights above him. And those long lashes? All Quinn. When he’s staring up at you or drifting off to sleep, you can’t help but marvel that a baby could already look so much like a little version of his dad.

Ellen still can’t believe it; she’ll trace her finger over his cheek, marvelling, saying things like, “it’s like looking at Quinn as a baby all over again.” You can tell it makes her a little sentimental, like she’s living these moments twice over.

And Quinn just kind of shrugs it off, maybe even rolls his eyes, but there’s this quiet pride there, you know? You can tell he’s melting inside every time someone calls it out.

132 notes · View notes

verycoolusername1 · 8 days ago

Text

Café Moments- Quinn hughes

Quinn hughes x reader

Super cute and long just for you guys!

Quinn Hughes had heard all about Vancouver’s charm, but it wasn’t until he found himself on the ice against his brother, Jack, that he truly got to experience the city. Jack had been raving about a little café he’d discovered one morning before a game—a small, family-run spot tucked away on a quiet street.

“You’ve got to check it out, Q,” Jack had said over the phone the night before. “It’s cozy, good coffee, and the best part? There’s this really cute barista. You’ll love it.”

Quinn chuckled, knowing his brother’s love for a good cup of coffee—and the cute barista wasn’t a bad bonus either. But Quinn had been focused on the upcoming game. He didn’t have much time for distractions. Still, after his team’s practice the next day, he decided to take a walk around the city, just to clear his head before the big match. And Jack’s café recommendation was still lingering in his mind.

The little café was nestled in a quiet corner of the city, away from the usual tourist spots. When Quinn walked in, he noticed the warm, inviting atmosphere—old wooden tables, soft lighting, and the smell of fresh-brewed coffee filling the air. There was an elderly couple sitting at a table by the window, chatting quietly as they sipped their drinks, creating an aura of comfort that was rare to find in a city full of hustle.

And then, there was *her*.

Behind the counter, a beautiful girl stood, her hair pulled up in a messy bun, wearing glasses that framed her face perfectly. She had on a work apron with the café’s logo, a simple design of a steaming cup of coffee and a swirl of cream, that added to her effortless charm. She was focused, stirring something in a cup, but when Quinn approached the counter, she looked up. Her eyes met his, and for a second, the bustling café seemed to fade into the background.

“Hi, are you ready to order?” she asked, her voice soft and warm as she gazed at him through her lashes. There was a slight hint of curiosity in her smile, as if she was used to customers but maybe not one who looked like a hockey player.

Quinn blinked for a moment, still processing how pretty she was. He quickly shook himself out of it and cleared his throat.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll take an iced coffee with caramel,” he said, his voice coming out a bit more casually than he meant. He couldn’t help but glance at her, a little flustered by the instant connection he felt.

She gave him a smile, nodding. “Okay, great. Would that be all?”

Quinn hesitated for a moment, wanting to keep talking. There was something about her—something that made him want to know more. He leaned in slightly, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“What’s your name?” he asked, before realizing how forward that might have sounded.

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m Y/N,” she said, then added, “What about you?”

“Quinn,” he replied, his nerves fading slightly as he relaxed into the conversation. He was so used to being recognized for his hockey career, but in this moment, Y/N didn’t seem fazed by who he was. She was just... *Y/N*, and he liked that. A lot.

“Well, Quinn, your iced coffee will be ready in just a minute,” Y/N said, her tone light and friendly. She busied herself with his order, and for a moment, Quinn just stood there, watching her with a smile.

He had so many questions—about the café, about her, about how someone as charming as her ended up working here—but before he could think of what to say next, another customer walked in. Y/N greeted them, her attention shifting away from him, and Quinn realized that he had been caught up in the moment more than he had realized. He should’ve asked for her number, but before he could work up the courage, his iced coffee was ready, and he found himself reaching for it, a little disappointed.

“Thanks,” Quinn said, giving her a smile. “I’ll, uh, see you around.”

Y/N smiled back, her eyes twinkling. “Enjoy your coffee, Quinn.”

He turned and left, walking back down the street, but the encounter lingered in his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it had felt to talk to her, how natural everything had been, even though they were complete strangers. But he’d forgotten to ask for her number, and now it seemed like too much time had passed.

The next few days were a blur of games, practices, and the excitement of being back in Vancouver. But no matter how much he tried to focus on hockey, he couldn’t shake the thought of that café—or Y/N. He found himself wondering if he’d ever see her again. A week passed, and Quinn didn’t get a chance to go back. He kept telling himself that he was too busy, that he had other things to focus on. But the nagging feeling that he’d let something slip through his fingers refused to go away.

Finally, after a game against his brother and a long night of reflecting on the loss, Quinn decided to make the trip back to the café. It was his last day in Vancouver before heading back to his own team’s city, and he couldn’t leave without trying to see her again. The moment he walked through the door, the bell above it jingled, and Y/N looked up from behind the counter, a welcoming smile appearing on her face when she saw him.

“Back for more coffee?” she asked, her voice light and teasing.

Quinn stepped up to the counter, his heart racing. He didn’t want to be awkward about it, but he’d regretted not asking for her number the first time. This time, he wasn’t going to let that chance slip away.

“I was actually hoping you could help me with something,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing. His fingers drummed on the counter nervously.

“Oh?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Quinn took a deep breath. “I, uh, wanted to ask you if... you’d like to grab coffee sometime? I know we just met, but I’d really like to get to know you better.”

Y/N smiled, the kind of smile that made Quinn’s heart do a little flip. “I’d like that,” she said, her eyes softening. “You can, uh, give me your number and I’ll text you.”

Quinn laughed, relieved. “I should’ve done this last time,” he admitted, pulling out his phone. “I’m kind of bad at this.”

Y/N just grinned, taking his phone to put in her number. “It’s okay, Quinn. I’m glad you came back.”

As she handed his phone back to him, Quinn smiled. He’d finally done it—he’d finally asked the question that had been on his mind all week. And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new. Something he was excited about.

With a small wave and a promise to text her soon, Quinn left the café, a smile on his face as he walked down the Vancouver streets. Maybe hockey wasn’t the only thing he’d been destined to find in this city after all.

Reblog and send in requests

160 notes · View notes

verycoolusername1 · 9 days ago

Text

THIS IS A MASTERPIECE

Aftertaste

quinn hughes x indie singer!fem reader

summary: quinn is dragged out to a show at a dive bar, and finds himself drawn to the lead singer...

wc: 5.3k

notes: ive seen a lot of nhl stars x pop girlie reader (a slay every time) but something about the idea of straight laced quinn x indie girl compels me..

As a professional hockey player, it was one of Quinn’s biggest gripes when people told him he only cared about hockey. Mainly because people always said it like it was a bad thing, something they were uncovering that Quinn didn’t know about himself. Something he should be ashamed of. But Quinn knew, and he wasn’t ashamed at all. Hockey was in his blood, inextricably linked with his real biggest priority. His family. Luckily, hockey and family had always gone hand in hand for Quinn. Even when hockey took him far away from everyone, even when people tried to pit him and his brothers against each other, it never strained their relationships. They all knew it was just the nature of the game. Reaching his dreams, being an impactful player, it took thick skin. All three Hughes boys had been raised with that knowledge.

But, that didn’t mean things didn’t rattle him occasionally. Like now, sitting on a teammate’s couch, trying to savor what he thought would be a chill afternoon sprawling into a quiet evening. Until someone’s phone rang. Dakota Joshua’s girlfriend was on the line, trying to convince everyone to go out. Her friend was in a band playing that night, and ‘there was no cover, so everyone should come.’ Because a bunch of professional athletes worried about paying an entry fee. A couple guys said sure, a couple more said they had plans, and when it was more or less worked out who’d be going, a few of them turned to look at Quinn. He shook his head, not moving from his slumped lean against the back of the couch. He was tired. And comfortable. So he verbally answers, “I’m not a huge live music guy. But thanks for the invite.”

He hadn’t expected his voice to carry through the phone, really just speaking to his teammate. But the girl on the other line must’ve heard, because she scoffed. “Is that Quinn?” her voice crackled through the speaker. “Figures. He couldn’t care less about anything that isn’t hockey!”

Quinn could hear that she was joking, but it still stung. He didn’t even know this girl that well. Why was she looking down on him for prioritizing his job, that he was, frankly, great at? Joshua immediately came to his defense, shooting an apologetic look over his shoulder and saying, “Hey, Captain’s locked in. Can’t complain, especially with the way the season’s going.”

The conversation shifted, and then ended altogether, but Quinn was lost in his thoughts until some of the guys who weren’t going to the bar stood up to leave. What would he do with his evening, if he did go home? Slump on his own couch, watch tape or other games on TV that evening, talk to his mom or Jack or Luke, if they were free? Those were all things he enjoyed, that brought him joy, but none of his excuses sounded good enough when the guys asked if he was sure he didn’t want to go. So, he lets himself be half-dragged into the bar, and if he’s nursing his beer on the edge of their crowded booth a bit grumpily, hopefully everyone will let it slide. The group of people was bigger than he’d anticipated for a free show at a pretty run down bar. Quinn’s not even sure this is technically a concert, as very few people are lingering anywhere near the stage, and no one seems to be paying any attention to the people tuning instruments up there.

“So, wait, how do you even know this girl?” Quinn hears someone ask, and that brings his attention back to the situation at hand. Joshua’s girlfriend, clearly pleased to hold the attention of the table, smiles widely.

“Oh, we went to university together! It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out, but she was always so talented. She never actually made her own music in school though, which I thought was strange. So when she mentioned joining a band, I just knew they’d be great!”

Awesome. Quinn’s been dragged out to see an amateur musician who’s a former classmate of someone he barely knows. He might need a couple more beers to make it through this.

“What kind of music do they play?” Someone else chimed in, apparently not as put off by the previous answer as Quinn was.

“I’m not really sure. I think, like, indie rock? She mentioned they’d be doing a lot of covers, because they’ve just recently started playing together. She said they wanted to go ahead with gigging to work out what kind of sound they wanted for their own music, so cool!”

Quinn was seriously impressed by this girl’s loyalty to her friend. He wouldn’t call himself a big indie rock fan, but there were way less palatable genres, so maybe he’d survive after all. He looked towards the stage, at the band tuning their instruments and checking mics, and turned back to the table with a question of his own.

“Is she the brunette with the bass?”

“Nope!” Joshua’s girlfriend answered, eyes bright. She obviously hadn’t expected Quinn to show any interest. “She’s not up on stage right now. But that white guitar they’re sound-checking right now is hers. I recognize it from her Instagram.”

Quinn nodded, curiosity satisfied. Conor rose from the other side of the booth, clearly heading to the bar, so Quinn slid out too, maybe a bit overly eager to step away from the larger group. Lucky for him, they lingered by the bar even after getting their drinks, so Conor was either a mind reader, or just felt similarly. They made easy chatter, and Quinn felt some of the tension in his shoulders unwind. Before he’d even thought of rejoining their other teammates, the bar lights dimmed. Quinn hadn’t even realized it was possible to make the space any dimmer. Turning his gaze towards the stage, all the same people as before were settled with their respective instruments, leaving a gap in the middle of the stage. Quinn’s eyebrows raised. A few seconds later, the missing member quietly entered the stage, smiling bashfully.

Quinn felt like he’d been hit over the head, and that was putting it mildly. Fiddling with an acoustic guitar, high points of her face getting kissed by a spotlight, the lead singer was maybe the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“Hi, everyone. We don’t quite have a name, or much original music right now, but we’re gonna play some of our favorite songs for you guys tonight. Hope you enjoy.” Her voice was soft, tinged with nerves, but still warm. Quinn couldn’t look away as she adjusted her grip on her guitar one more time, and shared a glance with the bass player on her right. The band started playing, and Quinn’s breath was stolen.

They were playing an older song Quinn vaguely recognized, quiet, soft rock. He hadn’t really ever considered someone’s singing honest before, but that’s how it felt. Clear, sincere. Just singing from the soul, like she would sound the exact same even if the room was completely empty.

“You live your life, you go in shadows

You'll come apart and you'll go blind

Some kind of night into your darkness

Colors your eyes with what's not there”

He stood, transfixed, until Conor elbowed his arm and tilted his head towards the booth. He looked like he had some taunts ready, but spared them as the men moved through the mostly quiet room.

Back of his neck burning, Quinn slid back into the booth. Most of the group had gone to stand by the stage, bringing the amount of people at the table to a much more manageable amount. For Quinn’s social capabilities, at least. Not that he was paying much attention to anyone at the table, eyes glued to the middle of the stage.

The band had launched into their second song, this one apparently not requiring the singer to also play guitar. Quinn appreciated its absence, as it gave him an unobstructed view of her. She was in a sleeveless black mini dress and calf-high boots, which should’ve been little dressed up for the dingy bar. But, she pulled it off effortlessly, hair down and catching the light as she tossed in time with the music. Quinn certainly wouldn’t call himself an expert, but he wasn’t even sure if she was wearing makeup other than some lived-in eyeliner. She looked like a girl in a 90’s movie, effortless yet put together, all at once. It was intimidating, but something about her presence was also unmistakably warm and open. Quinn couldn’t look away from how she moved with a casual grace, the way her whole body seemed to respond to the song, guiding her voice.

“I feel naked when you look my way

You can see it on my face

You're the only reason I came here

You're the only reason I stayed here

And I'm livin' on the aftertaste

Don’t you tell me it’s too late”

Dancing along to the music was obviously shaking off a lot of her nerves, but even far from the stage, he saw the singer’s cheeks flush as the crowd applauded at the end of the song. Cute. After saddling her acoustic guitar once again, the singer leaned into the microphone.

“This next one is one of my favorite songs. Hope you guys like it.”

“During practice she’d say that about, like, six different songs. I just have to let everyone know.” The person sitting behind a keyboard chimed in, and the singer’s shocked laughter made Quinn feel lightly carbonated. Fizzy, reactive. What was wrong with him?

“I’ve got a big heart. Anyway!”

She led the band into the next song, and they continued to play a few more, with minimal commentary. They weren’t playing anything Quinn was familiar with, but he didn’t really mind letting the music wash over him. The band were talented, and Quinn could see people around the room who clearly did know the songs enjoying themselves, further validating his assessment. At some point, Conor disappears, and brings back new drinks for the both of them, giving him that taunting look again. This time, he delivers.

“You know, I thought you weren’t really a live music guy? Seem to be enjoying yourself plenty.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“What? Just making small talk. Need me to be quiet so you can focus on the music? Maybe she’ll sign your forehead at the merch table later.”

Quinn lets out a long-suffering sigh. There’s nothing he’d change about his life, really, but he sometimes dreams of a world where he’s a scary captain that people don’t make fun of for their own entertainment. That’d show them. He settles, instead, for making fun back, like any respectable adult with younger siblings.

“Signed a lot of autographs lately? She could probably teach you how.”

Conor lets out a shocked sound, but their back and forth is cut off by applause echoing through the bar.

“Thank you!” The singer is once again guitar-less, nervously fiddling with her mic stand with dainty hands that Quinn’s eyes get stuck on. They must be tough, for how deftly she plays her guitar, but they look small. Quinn buries a half-formed thought of brushing against them, holding them in his own. He’s losing it.

“We’re gonna do a few songs with some different vibes, if that’s okay with you guys. We’re still working on pinning down what style of music we really like making as a band, so we’d love to know what you think of these. This first one is called Starling, and it’s actually an original of mine.”

Her cheeks flush at the scattered cheers through the room, and once the song starts, Quinn understands why. The song is raw, subdued instrumentation highlighting her voice. She sings most of it with her eyes shut, but not tightly. Not fearful. She’s swaying gently, and her voice soars through the dingy bar.

“And she says we're the lucky ones

And you know why

To meet another is a miracle, let alone you and I

You and I, you and I”

The applause at the end of the song is noticeably louder than the songs before. Quinn claps, and Conor doesn’t even make fun of him, because he’s clapping too. The lead guitar player pats the singer on the back as she takes a swig of water and visibly tries to settle her nerves.

“Okay, that was scary! Let’s have fun now.”

The next song is folksy and upbeat, old-fashioned. It reminds Quinn of something his parents would listen to. The band really digs into it, the audience responding in turn, and Quinn feels weirdly connected to it all. It reminds him of being on the ice, a good shift where he feels like a live wire and can anticipate the moves of all of his linemates. Everything ramps up towards the end of the song, and it’s actually Conor who’s shoving Quinn out of the booth, towards their teammates closer to the stage.

“Seems like the last few songs are fun. Let's be social.”

Quinn lets himself be dragged, like he has all night, folding into the group. A couple of the guys seem shocked to see them, Soucy throwing a “We thought you guys bailed!” over his shoulder. Quinn shrugs, but tries to fake-nonchalantly answer before Garland. Whatever Conor might say would do him no good.

“Nah, just hanging back at the booth. Still tired from earlier.”

“Nice. They’re doing a good job up there. Joshua’s girl is losing her mind.”

Quinn is too, a little, but he refuses to say that out loud. Luckily, they’re interrupted.

“Thanks for really getting into that last one. That’s one of my favorites.” One of the other band members snickers and starts to interrupt, Quinn sees their teasing smile from where he stands. The singer cuts them off, grinning widely and continuing her sentence,

“This is our second to last song. Laugh at me if you want, but it truly is my favorite song these days. Not one of my favorites, just my favorite. This is Juna by Clairo. Let’s dance!”

He’s never heard it before, much like the rest of the set, but this song is definitely his favorite, too. It’s still playful, but has a sensuality that’s completely out of left field. Taking the microphone from the stand, the singer slinks across the small open area of the stage. Her hips sway, free hand gesturing with the music, and she looks so good Quinn almost can’t bear it. She’s singing directly to the audience, confident and present in a way he hadn’t seen from her so far. And he’d definitely been paying more attention than he’d admit to anyone.

“You know me, you know me

And I just might know you too, know you

Come to me ready”

Joshua’s girlfriend throws her hands up when the singer looks their way, and the singer looks down at her friend with a dazzling smile, sweeping her eyes over the rest of the group. Quinn has a weird instinct to avert his eyes, or run away, but he’s too late. The singer is looking at him. Quinn swears he sees her eyes widen, just a fraction, but the moment breaks, the rhythm moving her across the stage. He spends the rest of the song— and most of the following one— in a daze. He claps when everyone else claps, lets himself be moved like the crowd moves, but he’s mostly just drinking in the singer’s appearance. Her charm, her confidence, it’s magnetic. He’d be embarrassed, but he’s definitely not the only one looking. And that makes something smolder in him, stifling and warm.

“Thank you all so much for being here. This was actually our first show all together as a band, so it’s been very special. Enjoy the rest of the evening!”

The audience gives one last hardy round of applause, and the band don’t bother with theatrics, unceremoniously beginning to break down all their equipment. Quinn, as per usual, lets himself be led to the bar for another round, and then back to a table. Some of the girls in the group are chatting about how much they liked the set, how they’d love to see them again, but one comment in particular lands heavy on his brain. It’s Joshua’s girlfriend, pretending to be casual when she boasts,

“I told you guys Y/N was amazing! I texted her and told her she should come hang with us for a minute when they’re all packed up. I hope she has time.”

Conor elbows him. The little shit. Quinn gives him a withering look, but he knows at least one of the other guys had to have noticed the interaction.

“Oh?” Dakota raises an eyebrow at him. “Interested in meeting Y/N? Didn’t really think you cared for live music, Cap. Had to drag you into the bar and all.”

Quinn visualizes the alternate universe where he’s intimidating his teammates, and decides to play dumb in real life.

“Who? The only reason I haven’t left is because Garland keeps buying me drinks.”

Joshua doesn’t quite buy it.

“That’s nice of him. Means you have room for a couple drinks for Y/N on your tab, then. She was the lead singer. Seemed like you were keeping an eye on her.”

“You know, not a huge live music guy, myself, but I’ve heard when people are onstage you’re supposed to pay attention to them.” Quinn chirps, perhaps belatedly realizing getting defensive about the girl would only make things worse. The guys laugh, and the conversation moves on, so he must’ve said just enough to be let off the hook.

Quinn lets his thoughts wander, rather than taking part in the mindless chatter. He really is tired. Everyone will tease him for leaving, but he’s been more than a good sport. He’s absolutely far surpassed his “not hockey” quota for the day. Just as he decides on getting up and telling everyone goodbye, other people around the table are standing, and some of the girls are fussing. Did someone else decide to leave before him? Even better, he can just tack onto someone else’s goodbye, slip out with even less attention on him. He gets out of his chair and realizes he’s fallen into a trap of sorts.

In the middle of all the commotion is Dakota Joshua’s girlfriend, bragging about her friend while wrapping her in a tight hug. The lead singer. She’s clearly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm, but gives the group a genuine smile.

“This is my boyfriend, Dakota, and these are a bunch of his teammates!” She rattles off their names, as if the singer will remember them, and Quinn feels something inside him ignite when he locks eyes with the girl again.

“Nice to meet you guys. Thanks for coming out! So glad I didn’t realize who you all were until now. I would’ve freaked out.” The singer’s smile turns shy, and Quinn sees a couple of the guys almost visibly puff up their chests, enjoying the recognition. He is too, sure, but he hopes it’s not too obvious.

“Big Canucks fan?” Joshua asks while slinging an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her closer.

“Born and raised. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love a picture to send to my parents. They’re gonna lose their minds.”

Dakota’s girlfriend is already whipping out her phone before the singer can finish her sentence, gathering everyone into the frame. Conor, ever the meddler, shoves Quinn towards the center, and he ends up right next to the girl he’s been admiring all evening. He breathes in her clean, citrusy perfume, and isn’t sure he remembers to smile for the picture, dazed. Joshua’s girlfriend looks through the photos and seems pleased, so Quinn must look normal enough.

“They came out so cute! Y/N, do you have a favorite player? If he’s here let’s get a picture of just you two!”

The singer, Y/N, he mentally corrects, stammers out an excuse, but she seems to quickly learn the lesson Quinn learned in his earliest days in the sport. Give hockey players an obvious weak point, and they’ll exploit it, on or off the ice. A few of the guys tease, lightheartedly, but still pressing for an answer.

“Um… it’s 43. Hughes…” She’s avoiding his eye, and the guys are going wild, but Quinn hardly notices. He’s floating, mentally thanking every extra rep in the gym, every early practice, even his parents for loving the sport so much they passed it onto him. Quinn can’t help his small smirk as Joshua’s girlfriend gestures for Y/N to hand her phone over, opening the camera and telling them to get together and pose.

Quinn takes a step closer, hovering his arm around her waist, until he finally catches Y/N’s eye. He tilts his head, wordlessly questioning. She nods and wraps her own arm behind his back, so he lets his hand settle. It’s not hard to smile for the picture when he’s pressed against her side. His guys are jeering, but he pays them no mind as Y/N is handed back her phone. Now or never, probably, Quinn thinks to himself. So he dives.

“D’you mind sending those to me?” He asks, trying to keep his voice low amongst all the chaos of the group. He doesn’t exactly want commentary as he’s trying to shoot his shot.

Y/N blinks up at him, and he finds her visible confusion endearing.

“You want me to send you the pictures of us together?”

Quinn just nods. She blinks some more, brow furrowed.

“Yeah, sure, I can. Why?”

Quinn wishes he had some witty or charming response, but there’s something about her straightforwardness that disarms him. She doesn’t seem to realize how interested Quinn is, for better or for worse.

“Well,” He rubs the back of his neck, “It was the most casual way I could think of to ask for your number.”

At that, Y/N’s eyes widen, but she also smiles in a coy way that makes Quinn think he might be in over his head.

“Oh! Well, in that case, I’d be more than happy to send you those pictures.” She hands Quinn her phone, already open to a new contact, and he takes it from her outstretched hand.

“You guys did great up there, by the way. Especially for a first show. I never would’ve guessed.”

Y/N gives him that warm, happy smile, and he melts.

“Thank you! I haven’t performed in front of a crowd since middle school choir, so I’m honestly just proud I made it through the set at all.”

Quinn, once again, is floored. Sure, she seemed anxious at first, but he still gets visibly nervous before stepping on the ice all these years later. The idea of doing something for the very first time with so much grace makes him jealous, in a weird way. He doesn’t know how to express all that to a stranger, so he doesn’t.

“Really? You looked at home up there.”

Y/N’s gaze softens a bit, something that wasn’t quite shyness— maybe vulnerability— creeping in.

“That means a lot. It’s something I’ve always dreamed about, always craved. But I was too scared until really recently.”

“That’s really brave.” he responds, thrilled by her flushed cheeks and bashful smile.

“That’s funny,” Y/N says, taking a step closer, holding steady eye contact now, “I find it really brave to hold onto your childhood dreams. I never had that strength.”

Now Quinn is the one flushing. Of course, plenty of people praise his hard work, but many also say his success was handed to him. He’d never deny his good fortune; his amazing parents were certainly the foundation and entry point for his dream. But, he couldn’t have gotten to this point if it was just his parents’ dream for him. He held firm through a lot of exhaustion, pain, and uncertainty. Someone else acknowledging that makes all of the old feelings almost tangible. It’s an uncomfortable sensation for Quinn, one he doesn’t like to linger on.

“It takes a village.” He answers, trying to sound at ease. Y/N laughs.

“How diplomatic! I forget you guys get media trained.”

At that, Quinn laughs, too. He’s fascinated by the discerning sharpness that almost underscores the warmth and openness the girl projects. As if, somehow, she’s looking right through him, but she likes what she sees. He wants to see more of her, in turn.

“You’ll need some of that too, soon enough. I bet the band’s gonna get big.”

“Let me get used to playing in dive bars first, even just thinking about anything bigger is going to give me a panic attack for the foreseeable future.”

“You don’t wanna come sing the anthem at a game?” Quinn can’t help but tease, rewarded by Y/N’s eyes going wide.

“That honestly makes my knees weak. Do you ever get used to playing in front of all those people?”

Quinn tilts his head, considering his answer. He doesn’t want to sound full of himself, but he wants to be honest.

“A lot of times, I’m not really thinking about the audience. I’m just focused on the ice. But, when the crowd gets really worked up, it can definitely impact the game.”

Y/N nods, brow furrowed as she thinks over his answer.

“For better or for worse? Depends on where you are?”

“Yeah,” Quinn answers with a smile, but it’s tight around the edges. “Some places can be fun to play but not exactly welcoming.”

“That’s so interesting. I never thought about how much of the game is mental. No wonder you guys try to be so even-tempered in interviews and stuff.”

Quinn’s lips lift into a smirk.

“You watch a lot of my interviews?”

Y/N huffs, rolling her eyes, but he sees her cheeks darken a bit.

“Oh, hush. I mean, like, whoever gets star of the game or whatever. Always giving generic answers.”

She’s certainly not wrong. Quinn wants to keep talking, but the bass player of the band steps into the conversation, with an impish smile and hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Y/N, do you still want a ride? I’m about to head out.”

“Yes, please.” Y/N replies, and if Quinn wants to believe there’s a bit of reluctance in her tone, he will. She turns back to him with an apologetic smile that certainly helps his interpretation. “It was really nice meeting all of you guys. Thanks again for coming out. We’ll absolutely be bragging at every show about how the Canucks were at our very first gig.”

“Of course,” Quinn replies. “We’ll have to get you guys out to a game soon.”

“A cultural exchange, of sorts.” The bassist chimes in with a laugh. Y/N shakes her head, but Quinn laughs along.

“Exactly! See you guys around.”

If he watches the two girls walk away, heart thudding when Y/N looks over her shoulder to wave goodbye, that’s between him… and Conor, who scurried over the second the musicians walked away to clap a hand on Quinn’s shoulder and shout something that sounded vaguely like “Attaboy!”. He must’ve had a few more rounds after the show ended.

—

A few days later, Quinn’s just getting home from an early morning practice when his phone buzzes. He mindlessly opens the notification, not realizing it was a text from an unsaved number until he’s staring at pictures of him and Y/N, with a caption that makes the corner of his lips raise. He saves the contact, and pretends he’s not looking at the photos some more.

From: Y/N 🎤

so… when’s the next game? :)

To: Y/N 🎤

Coincidentally, tomorrow. You guys free?

Quinn busies himself with preparing lunch, refusing to sit idle by his phone, as much as he wants to. When he sits down with his food a while later, he allows himself a glance at his messages, as a reward for his restraint.

we don’t have to do the anthem, right?

Not this time. Just show up and have fun. As long as we get some tickets to the next gig, of course

well then… i’d love to!

everyone else says they already have plans :(

Quinn takes a deep, calming breath, trying to summon up some courage. He thinks of Y/N, wide eyed and beautiful, calling him brave, but the image actually makes him more nervous. He shoots off a text anyway, before he can overthink it too much.

Tough crowd. But you still wanna go? We could grab dinner or drinks after

He does a few laps around his apartment, wearing down his rug a bit more, before his phone buzzes. Quinn’s not proud of how quickly he dives back onto the couch, but at least no one is around to see.

i was hoping you’d say that :)

see you then!

Well, that settles that. Quinn does a few more nervous laps, suddenly feeling keyed up despite very recently finishing a grueling practice. He’s trying to mentally settle himself before he does something dumb, like tear through his closet and stare at every game day suit he has and decide he hates them all. But, he’s not quite sure where to put all the nervous energy he has. He forces himself to sit back down, thumbs moving across his phone screen.

Need any gear? I can have someone bring you some

He doesn’t want to name the feeling that compelled him to ask. But it grows when, a few minutes later, Y/N answers. It’s another picture, but not from the other night. A mirror selfie. She’s in leggings and a Canucks jersey, facing forward but twisted just enough for Quinn to read the backwards 43 on her arm. His stomach soars, or free falls, he’s not quite sure which.

[image]

born and raised fan, remember? my parents would disown me if i showed up to a game without a jersey

He decides to play it cool, trying to slow his heart rate by joking around.

Looks good, outdated though. Gotta get a C patch

Y/N’s response is quick, like she’d been waiting around for his reaction. Quinn tries not to think about it too hard, tries not to put too much stake into all of these little signs that a girl like Y/N is interested in him.

🙄 not all of us have an equipment team

I’ll take care of it. See you tomorrow, Y/N

see yaaaaaa

good luck! 🍀

Quinn swears he moves through the rest of his day like normal. He goes through the motions, and he tries to pay as little attention as possible to his wandering thoughts. He’s used to fixating on hockey, trying to predict how games will go. Forecasting what will go right, and, maybe more importantly, what will go wrong. He’s built his career off of his attention to detail, his extra effort. It’s easy, and comfortable, to prepare for games with his team. As the hours go by, inching ever closer to puck drop, he can’t deny his excitement. For the opportunity to keep playing the game he loves, with his guys, for their fans. And maybe, just maybe, he also pictures Y/N, swathed in one of his jerseys with red cheeks from the cold of the rink, wearing that bright smile. He thinks about taking her on a date after the game, and how badly he wants to impress her, like she impressed him with her music. Thank goodness, he’s been working all his life to rise to the occasion when he’s out on the ice.

hiding a playlist/song recs in this fic bc i love u all.. songs directly referenced are fade into you by mazzy star, aftertaste by katie gavin (title inspo!), and juna by clairo! the "original song" is actually starling by sarah kinsley, and her music is GORGEOUS i highly recommend if you like indie singer/songwriter vibes.

some other artists i'd recommend you listen to ~for the vibes~:

phoebe bridgers, boygenius, mitski, fiona apple, and the newest beabadoobee album was super inspirational for this!!

if u made it this far you should send me a song rec of your own hehe

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl players #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #qh43 #vancouver canucks

292 notes · View notes

verycoolusername1 · 9 days ago

Text

Hello 🖐️I am Hani I am 38 years old and my wife Noor is 33 years old We lived the most beautiful years of my life, I gave birth to Abdullah, Saleh and Salma, my family was beautiful, I had a beauty salon, my craft was one of the most beautiful hobbies I have, but the occupation destroyed my source of income and my home, it destroyed my health as well, I was seriously injured in my foot that made me unable to provide the basic and secondary requirements of my children Every day the pain increases more and more🍉🥺

Abdullah 🧒is 12 years old, my eldest son. I was waiting for the moment when he would enter middle school. Unfortunately, his school was completely destroyed, but in the war he lost his hobby of playing football. But in the war we lost everything beautiful.🌿

Salma👩‍🦰, my daughter, is 10 years old. She is one of the most beautiful princesses👑, but my heart bleeds when she tells me why we, the children, are different from the world.🍉🌹🌹

Saleh 👶is 6 years old. He is the joke of the house. He has many talents. He loved his kindergarten very much. He would wait for the morning to play with his friends and practice his hobby in his kindergarten. I am afraid to tell him that his kindergarten was destroyed. It destroyed his childhood and his laughter.♥️🇵🇸💔

Even my wife was not spared from this war that is devastating my entire family🧒🧒👩‍🦰👶. I was pregnant for 9🤰 months and unfortunately my daughter died at birth, due to poor nutrition😪🥺 and unhealthy living conditions for her and our baby.

We lack basic human needs, no food, no electricity, no water. We have been poisoned and infected🍞 by the unhealthy water🥛 we drink. During this period, she felt remorse at how difficult it was for a mother to see her children sick and unable to treat them because she is also very sick. I hope to provide us with support in order to cover the costs associated with ensuring our safe passage to Egypt across the border. Please stand with me, we are now homeless, with no children's needs such as education and food and drink. Please help us by donating to survive and leave Gaza with my children. Share this link as much as possible Note: my campaign is vetted by Femme intifada on telegram

We lack basic human needs🙏🙏, no food, no electricity, no water. We have been poisoned and infected by the unsanitary water we drink.🌿🌹

Please🙏🥺 help us by donating to stay alive and leave Gaza for my treatment, and to keep my wife and children safe from the war. Thank you for your kindness, compassion and generosity during this difficult time. With my sincere thanks and warm regards.

The Rafah border crossing, the only way to escape the war, is now closed. ✅ Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #99 ) ✅

Read more about us in the following link, please donate to us on it and share it 👇

Please help us get out of life's crises and the woes of war

Thank you for reading their story. Please don't keep scrolling without sharing 🌹🌹♥️🌹🌹

5K notes · View notes

verycoolusername1 · 9 days ago

Text

Maybe It Was Fate

Summary: During the 'hughesbowl' as fans may call it, you are caught in a trance that is Quinn Hughes... unaware that he is your coworkers' oldest brother.

Quinn Hughes x photographer!reader

A/N: I was debating whether to make this nico or quinn as the love interest and Quinn won in the end(nico does have a cameo however)- This was also supposed to be posted the day of the hughesbowl, but stuff came up so here it is now!!

AND I'M CHANGING THE SCORE IN THIS BECAUSE WHATEVER HAPPENED ON OCTOBER 30TH, 2024 DID NOT HAPPEN WHATSOEVER

It's a shock to you that you work with professional athletes, considering you hated sports as a kid. Even now, you still don't know what's going on in hockey. With the players too fast around you, it's hard to keep your eye on one player.

It was the 3rd period, the score being 5-3, the Canucks slowly but surely catching up.

You held your camera in hand, watching the big screen to keep focus... that was until someone catched your eye. You couldn't see his last name, only his face and man was he pretty.

He had green eyes flickered like sunlight within the leaves as he looked up. You could run your hand through his brown locks for days if given the chance.

You shook your head, he was most likely a player on and off the ice. You knew that without a doubt, knowing all about Jack's relationship with women(due to being best friends) but you couldn't help but wonder, would it be different with him?

The fans becoming louder as the game came to a close, the devils capturing the win. You snapped your camera a couple of times towards the devils and secretly took more of the mystery man.

You turned your camera off and it held loosely around your neck as you waited outside the locker room, waiting for Jack to take you home.

You had your back towards the door as you flickered through the photos that you took, your cheeks heating up when you saw the man again. He has a 43 just like Luke but you didn't think anything of it, players share the same numbers all the time. It was just a mere coincidence, right?

"You got all my good sides right?" Jack asked, you quickly turned the camera off.

"Jesus Jack, warn me next time gosh." You hit him on the shoulder.

He only shrugged in response. "Can't really text in the locker room."

You rolled your eyes. "You're actually an idiot."

"Only act like it to make you look smart." He muttered under his breath.

"And what are you two arguing about now?" Luke approached the two of you.

"They called me an idiot!" Jack exclaimed.

"They must have been reasonable to do so." Nico chuckled as he walked past you three. "Don't kill eachother please!"

"Make no promises cap!" You snapped a photo as he looked back at you with a smile.

"Oh Y/N! We want you to meet someone." Luke began to drag your arm in the other direction.

"And before you groan out a half assed reply, I think you'll really like him." Jack added.

You were now beginning to regret telling Jack that you wished you could put yourself out there again considering you haven't been on a date in two months due to your conflicting schedule.

"Do you two know him or-" You looked between the two of them.

"Oh yeah we do." Jack answered. "Very well."

"What does that even mean?" You narrowed your eyes at him, Jack chuckles in reply.

"Trust me, you'll like him." Luke eased your worries.

You finally stopped and Luke dropped your hand as you realized.

"He plays for the canucks? They just lost tonight. I'm sure the last thing he would want to do is go on a date with someone that works for the devils." You explained.

"Well he likes us and we play for the devils sooooooooo you'll brighten up his mood. Ha get it cause you're a photographer and the camera flashes." Jack stopped explaining the joke when he was met with your stern face.

Luke cleared his throat. "There he is now."

You snapped your eyes to the door and realized that was the man that took your breath away moments before just as he is doing now.

"Y/N this is Quinn, our brother. Quinn this is Y/N, the person we've been telling you about." Jack introduced the two of you.

"Brother? He's your brother?!? You guys never told me you had a brother!" You made a mental note to swear at Jack later, with no audience.

"Oops?" Luke giggled. "See Quinn, look they're a photographer. Show them some photos you took tonight." He encouraged.

You quickly shook your head. "No I couldn't possibly do that, I-I mean I still have to edit them and wait..." You looked down to your neck strap and saw that your camera was gone and in Jack's hands.

All three hughes brothers looking at the photos.

"Wait no!" You exclaimed but it was already too late you assumed, Jack was looking at you with a knowing look while Luke and Quinn were shocked.

"How come he gets all his good angles and I don't even one photo?" Luke asked you, in a mocking tone.

"I was distracted," You looked away, embarrassed.

"Yeah because you were too busy looking at our brother." Jack remarked, jokingly.

You rolled your eyes. "I didn't know he was your guys brother."

"I think these look nice, thank you." Quinn finally spoke, looking you in the eyes.

"Oh um you welcome. It's nothing really, it's just kind of my job." You shrugged.

"Then you most definitely picked the right career choice." He smiled softly at you.

Jack and Luke were nowhere to be seen, seemly left the two of you alone for a while.

Your face flushed at his words, he held the camera in his hands handing it out for you.

"You're gonna need this to edit all those photos of me." He joked.

"And I'm gonna need your number to send you all those photos." You held the camera and its neck strap, putting it in your bag.

"Well that was bold, Y/N." He chuckled not nonetheless gave you his phone so you can type out your number, he sent you a quick text.

"It was nice meeting you Quinn, it's getting late. I would head home but Jack seemed to have disappeared." You looked around.

"I can take you home." He offered. "He obviously went to the bar with the team."

You looked up at him and smiled. "I would like that."

302 notes · View notes