#quigley

Whenever someone asks for webcomic recommendations, Unsounded by Ashley Cope is my go-to. It's about a bratty thief girl and her undead wizard bodyguard, but also war, dogmatism, and the cruelty of the state.

she's just so painfully relatable, you know?

Not So Bad

Content: Fem!Reader, Misty’s a little weird (it’s Misty after all) but she’s whimsical, Y/N is lowkey a dick but they get better, gossip, fluffy fluffy FLUFFY!! Misty has been pining for a while, reader is described as having abs, post-crash stress, slightly gory injury description, mention of the popsicling, Misty gets jealous of Nat, slight Nat X Y/N, a little Jackie X Y/N if you squint, Y/N is popular, angsty but it gets better.

A/N: sorry for taking so long diva. It’s so hard to write nowadays. But nevertheless, she persisted!!! Also it switches from past tense to present tense because it goes from a flashback to present time. Also also, I have no clue how to properly treat injuries! Bear with me, gang. I’m just guessing. Pretend it’s accurate and what somebody with beloved Quig’s training would do!

~~

Misty Quigley.

What could you say about Misty fucking Quigley?

Weird. Poodle-haired four eyes with an odd fascination surrounding you.

You hate her.

You hate her.

It all started when you first met her. When she joined the team as an equipment manager back in ‘95.

~~

“Alright, girls!” Called out Coach Martinez as he placed his hand on the shoulder of a small, curly-haired, glasses wearing girl. You recognized her from your third period History class. “Say hi to the newest team member, Misty!” He smiled. “Be nice.”

You look at her, then immediately give a skeptical look to Jackie. When you looked back at her, her eyes are already on you. She tilted her head to the side slightly as she looked—an unreadable expression on her face. An expression that you immediately did not like.

After that, she just kept looking at you during practice. When you walked over to the benches to take a break, she had practically sprinted toward you to offer water. “Hey! Y/N, right? I have water! Do you want water? You should drink some water. Gotta stay hydrated!” You barely had time to process her words before she was moving on to the next sentence. Talk about words per minute.

You let out a groan before you could have stopped it. You’re usually incredibly nice, but something about this girl just… made you annoyed. Just by her presence. “Go away, Misty.” You grumbled. “I’m fine.”

~~

So, naturally, the world seemed like it ended when the plane on the way to nationals crashed landed in the middle of nowhere. Trapping you with none other than good ol’ Misty Quigley. Among others.

You’re currently leaning against a tree, your abdomen bleeding from a shard of glass stabbing into your side. You’re trying to power through the pain, attempting to not add to the stress of the fact that your plane literally JUST crashed in the woods.

After aiding some other girls, Misty unfortunately decides to scamper on over to you. She looks at the blood soaking through your shirt, and her throat goes dry when she realizes what she has to do. She clears her throat awkwardly. “Uhm… take off your shirt.” The look you give her could scare a grown man. “So I can assess the damage! I’m not gonna… ogle yoy.” She adds, quieter this time.

Your jaw clenches, and your lips press into a thin line. But you reluctantly agree, pulling your shirt over your head to reveal your injuries—and your abs.

Misty’s eyes widen to the size of saucers at the sight. Not of the shard of glass sticking out of you—no—the muscle of your abdomen. Soccer has clearly paid off. Misty swallows hard, before gently prodding at the skin around it to try and feel how deep the glass is. She winces when she feels that it’s… pretty in there. “Well, I shouldn’t take it out, because it’s… basically acting like a plug. If I take it out, you could start bleeding a lot.” She explains. “…but I can’t keep it in either.” With that, she carefully removes the shard of glass. You cry out in pain, tossing your head back against the tree as your hands fly to her shoulders.

Eventually, the bloodied glass is no longer wedged in your side. And, miraculously, the bleeding isn’t totally life threatening. She grabs the nearby medkit—since when was that there?—and starts suturing the wound with the surgical thread and needle equipped in the kit. You groan through gritted teeth, your grip on her shoulders tightening even further. “Jesus CHRIST, Quigley. Can you be any gentler?” You ask.

Misty gnaws on her lower lip—a nervous habit—and sighs shakily. “I’m being as careful as I can, Y/N.” She assures you, before flashing you an encouraging smile. “You’re doing great! Deep breaths for me, okay?” You roll your eyes at that, but start taking deep breaths anyway.

Eventually, after what feels like hours when it’s actually only a few minutes, Misty finishes suturing the wound and ties it off. She grabs gauze and wraps it around you, tying it off and ripping off the excess. You grab your shirt. “…thanks.” You mumble. Misty beams at you, grinning ear to ear like a dog that just got told they’re a good girl.

~~

Doomcoming.

Beautiful.

You’re sipping berry wine with Natalie because Jackie decided to ditch you for Travis, of all people. “So… lover boy moved on?” You ask. Being in this wilderness has made you a lot less… polite, pretty girl, and more… snarky, sarcastic and just as pretty girl.

Nat rolls her eyes. “Shut up.” She downs the last of her berry wine. “…we broke up ages ago. I don’t know what I was thinking… dating him.” She murmurs. You hum softly in response, sipping your wine. Some of the dark purple liquid smears across your upper lip, and Nat reaches out and carefully swipes it free with the pad of her thumb. Your cheeks redden at the gesture, and you look away.

Only to see Misty Quigley glaring daggers at Natalie.

You sigh tiredly at the sight. Nat snorts. “Lover girl still hasn’t moved on?” She asks. Your lips press together tightly, and you shake your head.

“…I can’t catch a break.”

~~

It’s been a few weeks since Jackie froze.

You’ve become less and less like yourself. Eating less—and, to be fair, what is there to eat?—sleeping longer. Et cetera.

The girls have learned to… keep their distance. You’ve been more… snappy. The shit you say is brutal—attacking their insecurities hidden to all but your perception and observation.

The only constant is Misty.

Insisting you eat. Waking you up when you sleep in too long. A little annoying, yeah. But there.

Life without Jackie feels like a shadow of what it once was. But Misty has slowly been becoming the sun to brighten everything for you.

So… here you are. “Hey, Y/N… wanna go outside? I have something to show you!” Misty suggests with a smile. You give her a skeptical look. The same look you gave Jackie when you first laid eyes on the poodle-haired girl.

“Why the hell would I want to go outside in this weather?”

“…because I made us as snowpeople.”

You blink, silent for a beat, before you burst out laughing for the first time in weeks. “You made us as ‘snowpeople’?” You ask with an amused grin.

“Yeah! C’mon, I’ll show you.”

And sure enough… she did. A snow replica of you stands beside a snow version of her. Pinecones are made to represent Misty’s big curls, and glasses are drawn onto her face. Abs are messily drawn into your snow abdomen. You quirk an eyebrow at the sight. “You gave me abs?” You ask, and Misty looks away with a sheepish expression.

“…well, you have them, don’t you?” She replies, and you shrug. Fair point. You look down at her and smile for the first time in what feels like forever. “Do you like it? The snowpeople?” She asks quietly.

“I don’t like it, Quigley.”

…

“…I love it.”

~~

You don’t know when you started falling for her. All you know is that you did.

She was already very infatuated with you, so it was no wonder she accepted your invitation for a wilderness date. Which turned into more wilderness dates. And more. Until eventually… you two started dating officially.

The snow has thawed with spring’s arrival, and with the cabin burned down, you of course ended up sharing a hut with your girlfriend.

You two are laying on your shared little fur mattress situation, Misty’s head on your chest with your arm around her. “Sorry I was a jerk to you, for, like… ever.” You murmur. Misty just lets out a content sigh.

“It’s okay. You’re not mean anymore, that’s what matters.” She replies. You hum softly in response and press and kiss to her head. If she had a tail, it’d be wagging.

“…I love you.” You whisper for the first time. Misty’s head shoots up to look at you with wide eyes.

“You love me?”

“I do.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

She immediately surges forward and attacks your face with kisses. You giggle and make half-hearted attempts to push her off. But you don’t actually want her to stop.

She presses gentle pecks all over your forehead and cheeks and nose. All over you, anywhere she can reach. “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyoy!” She squeals, reluctantly parting from you just to look at you. You grin up at her, and she quickly nuzzles her face into your neck like a needy cat.