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bapeach · 3 days ago

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Accidental love

Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader Word count: 9.1k+ Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------

Paige Bueckers

Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making…

You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…

You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.

You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious.

You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.

Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.

You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.

The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face.

Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest.

The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.

When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.

You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment?

When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.

The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well.

You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat.

You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.

You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.

So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through.

At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay.

While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.

Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.

You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”.

When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.

For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.

You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).

Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.

There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers.

You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her.

“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her.

“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response.

You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.

You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes.

You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in.

“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.

When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.”

You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about.

Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.

Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.

As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now.

You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face.

You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk.

Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell.

You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back.

You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave.

She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”

You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.”

You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.

“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease.

She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.

Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone.

“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level.

Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more.

You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support.

One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand.

When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.

You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out.

You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.

When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around.

You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...

She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room.

You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.

When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile.

You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family.

After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.

“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.”

You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment.

The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.

She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person.

20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face.

She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match.

“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug.

You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”.

That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.

Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly.

When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant.

You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts.

“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this.

Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.

“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.

You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.

“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face.

You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.

“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.

“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out.

You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.

When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.

After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).

When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.

You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.

Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt.

So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.

Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”

You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.

When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.

“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned.

The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game.

The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime.

The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.”

Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.

“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside.

Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.

The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.

Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.

#paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers oneshot #paige bueckers x you #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #nika muhl #ice brady #kk arnold #oneshot #imagine #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #wlw fanfic #bapeach writes

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softness-and-shattering · 3 hours ago

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Quitting cold turkey isnt like, morally superior either. Its not, I think, a greater exertion of will, which also has no moral bearing anyway.

Some things are processes, not single actions or lack of action. Processes take time, thats ok, be the tortoise, do it properly. Do it safely. You are worth doing it safely. You have so much joyous life left to live, set yourself up for that as best you can.

And if you can at all, get proper medical advice and support. Let a tumblr post be a jumping off point, not your main source of info. A professional you can see irl can take your history and personality and situation into account when making a plan, really personalise it for maximum effectiveness for you. Let people help you, its what we're here on earth for. Theres no point in doing it alone just because. Let people help you. Be safe. Youre being so brave to even try this. Well done.

Do not quit alcohol cold turkey

Do not suddenly stop drinking alcohol as a new years resolution if you have been consistently using alcohol most days

Your body gets used to the presence of the alcohol as a sedative in your system

Suddenly removing the sedative you are chemically accustomed to is like suddenly removing the wall you are leaning on - you will topple over

You brain electricity gets overexcited

This causes seizures

This causes sudden onset dementia (Wernicke's encephalopathy)

This causes brain damage

If you use alcohol often (even in moderate amounts)

Or in large amounts

Or you have ever noticed you get shakey tremors and anxious when you stop drinking

Then your body is chemically dependant and you need to be very careful coming off alcohol otherwise you will cause brain damage

Slowly wean down the amount you drink over days or weeks

Talk to a doctor about your goals to quit and ask about support options

Medically supported withdrawal is a lot safer

If alcohol withdrawal goes badly there is a 15% chance it will kill you.

Do not go this alone

You deserve to be safe

#comment

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izvmimi · 2 days ago

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cw: platonic!zoro x reader. established romantic relationship with luffy. selfship-coded, reader has a devil fruit.

It’s not often that you and Zoro end up alone together, but today it really is just the two of you, him carrying the majority of the provisions you’d gone into town to collect for the next leg of your trip, and the remainder in the safekeeping of your internal storage.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just stow away the rest?” you ask for the third time and by this time, Zoro decides to pretend he can’t hear you. In any other scenario, you’d make a comment about him needing to get over that silly fear of being emasculated, but for now you allow it, shoving your free hands in your pockets as you continue on on your stroll.

Even if when you’re around the rest of the crew there’s a huge and frequent show of you generally disliking each other, it’s hard to bicker when it’s just the two of you, because the truth is that you appreciate him tremendously. Zoro doesn’t always talk much, but he’s honest, and that is particularly important to you, making it easy to pour out your heart to him.

Perhaps that’s why today, you feel compelled to tell him exactly how you’ve been feeling these days since your return from the last island. Luffy has been asleep for days, recovering from injury that would probably have killed you on the spot, and while he apologized upon waking up two days ago to see you saddled with huge undereye circles and an open book with tear-staged pages at the foot of his bed, the fact of the matter is that you’re not sure how much longer you can handle this.

The crew is familiar with his wanton disregard for his own life, and perhaps you should know better by now, but it’s just too hard sometimes, and you can feel your heart starting to fill with resentment, and even that adds to your guilt.

Luffy is free, and freedom means choosing to live your life however dangerously you want.

“You know I hate complaining about him, and I know you’ll just tell me that I shouldn’t expect otherwise from Luffy, but just once, I wish he would take better care of himself.”

The thought slips out in a small voice, and Zoro lets it marinate in the quiet afternoon air. Discomfort rises like bile in your throat.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you immediately backtrack, but Zoro looks at you and shrugs.

“I get it. It’s fine.”

You bite your lower lip, keeping the gaze at the ground before you. Zoro should know that you’re only frustrated, that you love Luffy more than anything, and don’t mean to speak ill of him, right? It’s just eating at you, the idea that only one of you is preoccupied with the idea of separating for good.

Luffy would be fine without you even in death. You, on the other hand…

You take in a deep breath.

“I trust him,” you say out loud, to which Zoro chuckles to himself for a moment, which makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment.

“What’s so funny?!”

“That you’re this worried about him.” Zoro shoots you a glance, and mercilessly adds -

“Realistically, you’d probably croak before he does.”

“Wow!” you exclaim in dramatized offense.

Zoro shrugs. “I mean, I guess he probably cares enough about you that he wouldn’t allow that to happen, but still, I don’t think much can put that guy down for good.”

You pout, but something about that is reassuring, and that heaviness in your chest seems to alleviate just so.

“I guess that’s a relief.”

Zoro snorts again, which has you frowning at him again.

“Is it really this funny?” you ask, indignantly, but when he finally speaks again, his tone is serious.

“I think you’re misunderstanding him a bit,” he finally adds. Stopping for a moment, he gives you his full attention, and suddenly your heart starts to thump at the change in mood. He sizes you up for a moment, as if he’s trying to decide if what he has to tell you is worth it in any way, then lets out a sigh.

“He told me if something ever happened to him, there are a few things he wants to make sure happen for you, so that you’re okay.”

Your eyes widen for a moment, incredulous.

“What?”

Zoro resumes his stride.

“Can’t tell you what they are, though.”

You find yourself running to catch up to him, your heart pounding in your chest. The idea that Luffy has thought ahead, considering you even in the process, is almost too good to be true.

“So what was the point of even telling me?!” you hiss.

“So you don’t make up some narrative about not being cared for in your head, dumbass.” Zoro says. You stick your tongue out at him which has him scoff and look away, but you’re thankful.

The ship starts to reappear along the horizon and your outlook has changed a bit.

…

By the time you make it back on the ship again, Luffy has woken up from his restorative slumber and is already asking you if you brought any meat amongst your groceries, an arm looping around your shoulders and your waist. But instead of pushing him off of you for grabbing you too quickly, you look at him for a moment, and the sudden affection in your eyes is enough that it actually catches him by surprise.

“Hey, ___, what’s up?” he asks as you really take him in, but you just smile and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re back.”

He grins widely.

“Can’t get rid of me if you tried.”

#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #mimi's notes #daydreams: op #lumimi

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cosmiclily · 1 day ago

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chapter one: heartache

wc: 2.1k

Five years. Vi and Caitlyn had been together for five years before Caitlyn decided that the exposure from Vi’s life as a musician was “too much.” She said she was already dealing with enough from her mother’s expectations, constant scrutiny, and the pressure to be perfect. Being tied to someone constantly in the spotlight only amplified the chaos she was trying to escape.

But how do you just walk away from five years? Five years of love, growth, and shared memories. They had been through everything together—the awkward phases, the big milestones, the small, intimate moments that made life feel worth it. They were each other’s first in almost everything: first love, first heartbreak, first time believing someone could truly know and accept them for who they were.

Vi couldn’t imagine a future without Caitlyn in it. Caitlyn wasn’t just her girlfriend; she was her rock, her balance, her safe place in a world that could be loud and overwhelming. With her, life made sense. Without her, it felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her feet.

Now, Vi was left standing in the ruins of what they had built together, forced to pick up the shattered pieces and figure out who she was without Caitlyn. Every corner of her life reminded her of what she’d lost—the songs Caitlyn inspired, the jokes they shared together, the faint trace of her perfume still clinging to the throw pillows they’d picked out together.

Relearning herself wasn’t just hard—it felt impossible. How do you start over when so much of your identity has been intertwined with someone else? How do you let go of someone who was your past, your present, and the future you were certain you’d have?

Vi’s days were spent trying to fill the void Caitlyn left behind, and her nights were haunted by the deafening silence where laughter and love used to live.

──────────────────────

“Wake up!” you say, shaking Vi’s body aggressively. “I sure hope you’re not dead or still drunk because we leave in 30 minutes. Pack your shit.” You’re already gathering her clothes scattered across the room, shoving them into her beat-up suitcase. It’s barely holding together, much like its owner.

The thing is, you love Vi—you really do. She’s one of your best friends, and without a doubt, one of the most talented people you’ve ever met. But ever since her breakup with Caitlyn, she’s been a complete wreck. All she does these days is drink and mope around like the world ended.

When she first came to you, heartbroken and teary-eyed, spilling every detail of the split, you were genuinely sad for her. Five years with someone isn’t easy to walk away from. But, selfishly, you couldn’t help but think,“At least we’ll get some killer songs out of this.” Heartbreak always fuels the best music, right? You figured she’d take her pain and pour it into the band.

Instead, she spends 85% of her days drowning herself in booze and picking fights with strangers in dive bars, and the other 15% passed out somewhere she probably shouldn’t be. Honestly, it’s exhausting keeping up with her. At least this time, she actually made it back to her own hotel room instead of crashing on some stranger’s couch—or worse.

“Violet, seriously,” you snap, shaking her again when all you get is a groan. “You’re a grown-ass woman, and I’m not your babysitter. Get up, get dressed, and try not to look like you’ve been on a week-long bender. The van is leaving, and I’m not letting you make us late again.”

She finally stirs, one bloodshot eye cracking open as she glares at you. “What’s your problem?” she mutters, her voice gravelly and tired.

“My problem? My problem is that you’re wasting your talent and dragging us all down with you. I get it—you’re hurt, heartbroken, life sucks. But this?” You gesture around the room, littered with empty bottles and discarded clothes. “This isn’t you, Vi. And it sure as hell isn’t the Vi this band needs right now.”

She sits up slowly, rubbing her temples like even that’s too much effort. “You don’t get it,” she mutters, her voice low. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone like Cait.”

You take a deep breath, softening your tone. “No, I don’t. I won’t pretend I do. But I know Caitlyn wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself. And I know you’re better than this. So, get your ass up and let’s get to work. You don’t have to fix everything right now, but at least show up—for yourself, and for us.”

She looks at you for a long moment, her face unreadable. For a second, you think she’s going to argue. But instead, she sighs heavily, dragging herself out of bed like the weight of the world is on her shoulders.

“Fine,” she mutters, running a hand through her mess of hair. “I’ll pack. But don’t expect me to look ‘presentable.’”

You snort, tossing her a clean shirt you found buried under a pile of god knows what. “Presentable’s overrated. I’ll settle for functional.”

She gives you a half-smirk, the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen from her in weeks, and starts gathering the rest of her things.

You make your way to the van, your thoughts swirling as you reflect on how much your lives have changed in such a short time. Just a few months ago, you were barely scraping by, playing gigs at any bar that would have you. Your dad thought joining a band was a terrible idea—especially since it meant you wouldn’t be going to college. He never liked Vi, or her family for that matter, constantly calling her a bad influence. He’d been saying that ever since the two of you met in high school, always claiming that Vi was the one putting reckless ideas in your head.

When you told him you were starting a band with her, he completely lost it. You could still hear the echoes of his angry voice, the awful things he said, the way he swore you’d never make it. “You’re throwing your future away for a pipe dream,” he’d yelled. “Mark my words, you’ll regret this.” Those words used to haunt you—sometimes they still do. But right now, you can’t deny the faint sense of satisfaction in knowing that you’ve proven him wrong. Sure, things aren’t perfect, but you’re here. You’re on a tour van, opening for a bigger artist, starting to get noticed by her fans. It’s not the dream yet, but it’s closer than it’s ever been.

Climbing onto the van, you spot Jinx already in her usual spot by the window, earbuds dangling around her neck as she scrolls aimlessly on her phone. She glances up when she hears you, a crooked grin forming on her face.

“Did you get her to wake up?” she asks, scrunching her nose in exaggerated disgust. “I tried, but it reeks in there. Smells like whiskey, sweat, and bad decisions.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “Yeah, she’s up. Barely. I had to practically shake her awake and threaten to leave her behind. She’s packing now, probably still half-asleep.”

Jinx smirks, leaning back in her seat and tossing her phone onto the cushion beside her. “You’re a braver soul than I am. I gave up after two knocks. You know how Vi gets when she’s hungover—like a grumpy bear. Or a bear with a hangover.”

“She’s not a bear,” you say with a sigh, dropping into the seat across from her. “She’s just… going through it. Though, honestly, I wish she’d just move on already.”

Jinx raises an eyebrow, her expression equal parts amused and frustrated. “You’ve been saying that for weeks. When does ‘going through it’ stop being an excuse? She’s dragging herself—and us—down. It’s not like we’re rolling in free passes for her to waste.”

You glance out the window, watching the early morning light streak across the horizon. She’s not wrong. Vi’s breakup with Caitlyn hadn’t just been hard on her—it had been hard on all of you. The drinking, the fights, the inconsistency... It was becoming impossible to ignore.

“Where’s Ekko?” you ask, changing the subject. “Don’t tell me he’s late too.”

Jinx shrugs lazily. “Oh, he forgot something in his room. He’s probably on his way back already. You know him—‘fashionably late’ and all that.”

As if on cue, the hotel doors swing open, and Ekko steps outside with Archie, your ever-enthusiastic manager, trailing close behind. The two are deep in conversation, their hands gesturing wildly as they talk.

“Oh, you girls are already here! Excellent.” Archie’s voice carries before he even reaches the bus. His short, chubby frame and thick british accent somehow manage to command attention wherever he goes. He’s the reason the band even had a shot, the one who saw potential when no one else did.

“I have exciting news,” Archie announces, his grin stretching ear to ear as he climbs aboard. Then, his expression falters. “But… where is Miss Violet? Don’t tell me she’s late again.”

“She’s packing,” you answer, sitting up straighter. “She’ll be out any minute.”

Archie narrows his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Packing? At this hour? I gave everyone strict instructions to be ready by now.”

“She had a rough night,” you offer, though you feel like a broken record at this point. How many times have you covered for her?

“A rough night?” Archie throws his hands up dramatically. “She’s had a ‘rough night’ every night for the past month! If she’s not careful, she’ll burn herself out before we even get close to making it big.”

You exchange a glance with Jinx, who shrugs as if to say, He’s not wrong.

At that moment, the can door opens again, and Vi steps aboard. She looks like she just rolled out of bed—hair tousled, hoodie wrinkled, and sunglasses covering her undoubtedly bloodshot eyes.

“Morning,” she mutters, flopping into a seat without so much as a glance at Archie.

“Morning?” Archie echoes incredulously. “Miss Violet, this is hardly the professionalism I expect from you. We’re opening for one of the biggest acts of the year, and you’re showing up like you’ve just walked out of a frat house!”

Vi groans, tilting her head back against the seat. “Save it, Archie. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Archie pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath before shaking it off. “Fine. I’ll save my lecture for later because—believe it or not—we’ve got good news. Big news.”

Everyone perks up at that, even Vi, though she does so begrudgingly.

“What kind of news?” you ask, leaning forward with curiosity.

Archie’s grin widens as he claps his hands together. “You’re being added to three more tour dates! One of which is in LA. And, if you can manage to pull yourselves together, there might even be offers for an single on the table.”

The van erupts into excited chatter, a buzz of energy filling the space. Jinx punches the air, Ekko grins from ear to ear, and even you feel a rush of exhilaration. This is what you’ve all been working for—an actual shot at something bigger.

Even Vi, slouched in her seat with her sunglasses still on, cracks a small smile. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s there. Maybe this could be the spark she needed—the moment she finally stopped wallowing and started using all that anger and hurt for something productive.

“Quiet down, please,” Archie calls out, waving his hands to settle everyone. “I know you’re all excited, and you should be. But this will only be possible if you show your absolute best in the upcoming concerts. No more sloppiness, no more excuses. This is your chance to prove you’re ready for the big leagues.”

His words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the stakes. The excitement dims just slightly, replaced by determination.

“So,” Archie continues, checking his watch, “settle down, get your heads in the game, and prepare to give it everything you’ve got. We’ll be leaving in a couple of minutes.”

Jinx leans over your seat, her voice low but tinged with excitement. “Three more shows, an album, and LA? Think we’ll survive?”

You chuckle softly, glancing at Vi, who’s staring out the window now, her expression unreadable. “We’ll survive,” you reply. “The question is whether we’ll thrive.”

Jinx snorts. “Speak for yourself. I was born to thrive.”

Despite everything, you feel a flicker of hope. This was it—the break you’d been waiting for. Now all you had to do was rise to the occasion.

──────────────────────

masterlist - chapter two

notes: i love making vi suffer 😔 it’s a character flaw im sorry

#vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #arcane #vi arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #lily writes

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luanna801 · 1 day ago

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Despite me joking about Lan Xichen not reading the room re: NMJ and JGY, I actually disagree with the idea that the Sworn Brotherhood was inherently a terrible idea and he should have known it would make things worse. I think it's a classic case where because we as the audience know how it turns out, that outcome seems like an inevitability and the characters end up being called dumb for not predicting it. But I think with the information Lan Xichen had at the time, it wasn't unreasonable for him to think this might work and was at least worth trying.

And I think in a different story, this is the kind of idea that could easily have worked and led to a heartwarming story about redemption and healed relationships. MDZS is just sadly not that story, at least for these characters, but as always fictional characters don't know what story they're living in and can't be expected to predict the future. All they can do is act based on the information available to them, and I would argue Lan Xichen didn't really have enough information to predict how this would turn out:

(1) At this point, the only time Nie Mingjue has tried to kill Jin Guangyao is when he mistakenly thought JGY had actually betrayed them and defected to the Wen side. Once the truth was cleared up, NMJ is still furious but backs down from trying to kill him. (JGY, meanwhile, has made no attempts to kill or even harm NMJ yet, and in fact actually saved his life.)

From Lan Xichen's perspective, he has every reason to think this incident was just an anomaly based on a very extreme situation where NMJ was acting on faulty information. He has no reason to think Nie Mingjue would try to kill Jin Guangyao again, or vice versa, so as far as he knows the worst case scenario for the sworn brotherhood is just... that it won't go great. That maybe they'll never really get along again, but they'll still collaborate politically for the sake of the Sworn Brotherhood, and there will be no real harm done that they tried. There isn't really a way he could have predicted things would escalate to them trying to kill each other.

(2) Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao used to not just tolerate each other but get along/work together EXCEPTIONALLY well, and Lan Xichen saw them during that time. He also knows they're both pretty closed-off people who canonically don't have a lot of friends and are hurt by the way things fell apart. It makes total sense for him to think they might be able to get back to how things used to be if they just got a chance to clear up misunderstandings and be reminded of the things they used to like about each other. And it makes sense that as someone who cares about them both he would want that for them.

(3) Lan Xichen sees both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao as fundamentally good people. We can argue that he's mistaken in one or both of those evaluations, but based on what he knows, and indeed what they're respectively actually guilty of at that time, I don't think it's unreasonable for him to think so.

Most of JGY's worst actions are still in the future at this point. His only real crime (other than the things he did undercover, which LXC doesn't condemn) is killing the captain, which is an ambiguous enough situation that it makes sense for Lan Xichen to not consider it conclusive. Especially when weighed against what for LXC is far more substantial proof of JGY's goodness, like JGY having saved his own life when he was on the run, his time loyally and effectively serving NMJ, his incredibly brave and critical contributions to the war effort, etc.

Likewise, Nie Mingjue has yet to start acting as violent and unhinged as he later will on account of the saber spirit. While he's gotten angry, it was typically in rational ways that are largely proportional to the situation. He isn't doing anything comparable to the way he later flies off the handle at both Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang in largely irrational ways.

(We could argue that LXC should have known that he'd eventually end up there because of how saber cultivation works, but considering even Nie Huaisang apparently didn't know about it, I don't know that a member of another clan would have that kind of in-depth knowledge of the effects of Nie saber-wielding. LXC presumably knows the basic idea, but that doesn't necessarily mean he knows the specifics or how bad it can get.)

Therefore, from LXC's perspective these are two fundamentally kind, good people who all other things being equal should be able to work things out. And on the whole, he has far more evidence backing that up than contradicting it at this point in time.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #three zun #lan xichen #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #analysis #character analysis

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alarajrogers · 3 days ago

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OK, I understand what this person means. They are laughably wrong and committing one of the most common mistakes of the 20th and 21st centuries, but the mistake is largely one of vocabulary.

Aging and death are natural. They are fundamental parts of the condition of being alive, based on the law of entropy, which affects everything in the universe, including the universe itself. Everything breaks down and then ceases to exist in its current form. But that doesn't mean this is good. The person who is arguing that "aging is unnatural" is confusing the concepts of "natural" and "good."

Arsenic is natural. Cyanide is natural. Tsunamis are natural. And aging and death are natural. Things can absolutely be very natural and still be bad.

It is true that aging and death are worth fighting and that we have some ideas about future technologies we are working toward that can prolong life substantially or even make us effectively immortal (by current mortality standards anyway; humans who live a thousand years won't actually be immortal but they'll live a lot longer than we do now.) It is also true that those technologies don't yet exist and nearly everything sold as "anti-aging" is a scam. The beauty industry wants you to believe that there are over the counter creams you can rub on your face to make your wrinkles go away. This isn't true. Someday it may be true, but not yet. Currently, there is little you can do to prevent death or aging. Almost everyone who tells you otherwise either wants your money, or has been deluded by people who wanted their money. There are a handful of scientists who may be on the track of something real, but we just don't know enough yet.

Claiming that aging and death are worth fighting and we should not resign ourselves to death is good and valid. Claiming that aging and death are not natural makes you look like a total chump. Don't confuse natural with good. And don't confuse "death should not be inevitable and we;re working on it" with "death is not inevitable." Make no mistake, probably everybody on this web site will have a normal human life span or less, not because we want to, but because actual anti-aging technologies that come out (which they have not, yet) will be hoarded by the rich unless we fix the problem of income inequality before anti-aging technologies let the existing crop of billionnaires live longer than we do.

scrunching my face real hard rn

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ahmedfamily02 · 2 days ago

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This is my house before and after the war??😭

I have been tired for years and have been deprived of the simplest things to build a home for my children...

I took this picture after the truce was declared and the fighting stopped.. The war ended but it started for me ... Iam soo sad and I dont know what i want to do ???where i will back ?? we lose everythings ...

My little girl was waiting to back to wear her dress and see her toys now she tell me that nothing is worth living... Help me give them back the clothes they lost...the toys they dream of...help me buy them the sweets and chocolates they were deprived of in this war... Idon't know when they will have a house where they can enjoy comfort and peace 😭 but i want back them their clothes , toys , health foods , and alot of sweet .. I so sad for my children and my wife whos crying all time ...😭😭😭

Life in Gaza Today:

💔 Overwhelming Loss: The pain of losing so many family members is impossible to describe.

🍽️ Barely Getting By: Even basic necessities like food and water are becoming harder to afford.

🏠 No Safe Shelter: Our homes, once our refuge, Now it is just rubble and scattered stones.

📚 Dreams on Hold: The pursuit of education and opportunities has been replaced by the constant fight for survival.

What We Need:

In these desperate times, even a small gesture can mean so much. A 5£ donation could provide us with food or water for a day. If you can’t donate, simply sharing our story could help us reach someone who can.

Your Support Gives Us Hope:

This isn’t just about financial help—it’s about knowing that someone, somewhere, cares. Your kindness can be a source of strength for us, a reminder that we’re not alone in this fight.

How You Can Help:

🙏 Donate if you can.

🙏 Share this post to spread the word.

🙏 Keep us in your thoughts and prayers.

I’m not asking for much—just a little hope, a little relief, and a chance to keep moving forward. Your generosity, in any form, can make a difference in ways you might not even imagine.

Thank you for taking the time to hear my story. Your kindness means more than words can express.

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winchesterdreamgirl88 · 14 hours ago

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All That Matters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You get hurt on a hunt and Dean takes care of you

Word Count: 662

Warnings: None

A/n: My attempt at a fluffy Dean imagine:)

You had never been one to back down from a hunt. The adrenaline, the challenge, and the thrill of saving innocent lives—those were the things that made you feel alive. But tonight, it all went wrong.

Dean had warned you. He'd told you to stay in the car, to leave the heavy lifting to him. But you were never one to sit on the sidelines, especially when someone was in danger. So, with the courage of a Winchester in your veins, you’d gone in.

And now, here you were, lying in a motel room bed with a makeshift bandage on your side, the faint sting of blood still fresh on your skin. It wasn’t anything life-threatening—just a gash that required more than a few stitches. But you could see the worry in Dean's eyes as he knelt beside the bed, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I told you to stay in the car," Dean muttered softly, his voice laced with frustration and concern, his green eyes darkened with worry. "You never listen."

You managed a weak smile, your hand reaching out to take his. "Someone had to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed," you teased softly, trying to lighten the mood.

Dean sighed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I can take care of myself," he said, his voice low and soothing. "But I’m damn glad you’re here. Still… you scared the hell outta me."

You pulled him a little closer, feeling the warmth of his body beside yours. You could tell how hard he was trying to keep his cool, but the tremor in his voice was undeniable. This wasn’t about the hunt anymore. This was about you. About him caring for you in a way you didn’t think anyone could.

"Sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you traced the line of his jaw with your fingers. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Dean's hand rested on your hip, his thumb gently brushing over the fabric of your shirt, as if making sure you were still there, still safe. His breath was steady but his eyes still held that underlying fear. "Don’t apologize. I just—" He stopped, taking a breath. "You’re my world, you know that? You’re everything to me."

Your heart melted at the words. You were everything to him? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. In a world filled with darkness, you and Dean had found something real—something worth fighting for.

"I know," you whispered, your voice soft but filled with all the emotion you felt for him. "And you’re everything to me, too."

Dean’s lips curled into a small smile, a tender one. He was still there, still so close, still so steady. His hand moved up to brush against your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin there gently. "We’re gonna get through this," he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. "I’ve got you."

You closed your eyes, letting the feeling of Dean’s love and care wash over you. It was like nothing else mattered when he was near. You were safe in his arms.

"I’ll be okay," you whispered, feeling the drowsiness start to settle over you. "Just… stay with me?"

"Always," Dean replied, a quiet promise in his voice. He tucked you closer into his side, pulling the blanket over you both. "I’m not going anywhere."

As you drifted off to sleep, your last thought was how lucky you were to have Dean, someone who would always be there to catch you when you fell—physically and emotionally.

Dean’s love for you was unwavering. You could feel it in every touch, every quiet moment you shared. And you knew that, no matter what, you’d face whatever came your way together.

After all, with Dean by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t handle.

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #jensen fucking ackles #jensenedit #dean wichester

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amoristt · 3 days ago

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trust i seek, and i find in you | alt finale

part 1 (x) . part 2 (x) part 3 (x)

「 ✦ seong gi-hun / reader ✦ 」

a/n: i had to make this im sorry i couldnt live w myself idc that its a weaker ending!!!!

original ending (x)

Rain poured dense and persistent from the angry sky above, thick clouds akin to raging plumes of smoke miles overheard. The dirt and gravel surrounding you resolved into slick mud under your dress shoes. Droplets of water gathered at the crown of your skull before cascading down the lines of your face, deepend with grief. Fat tears had long since begun to fall from your water lines and race down your cheeks, only hidden by the onslaught of heavy rain, a mirage that only bought you seconds before you would inevitably fall into Gi-hun’s arms blubbering like an inconsolable child.

The game laid out before you both had already started but neither of you could bring yourselves to move. Just two players standing in static, unwilling. Gi-hun was, as always, as easy to read as a book. Every emotion that coursed through him was plain as day before you. His anger, his fear, his desolation all settled into the wrinkles of his frown, those puppy-dog like eyes downcast and swallowing you whole. You hated seeing him like that- broken.

How could this be happening.

Just the night before, in both of your monkey suits with full bellies and reeling from loss, he had said that he knew a way out of this. That since it was just the mere two of you left, he knew exactly how to make sure you’d both go home at the next game. He was confident, with a pipe dream in his eyes and a sense of bright urgency so determined that you couldn’t help but believe him too. You think you would have believed anything that passed his lips. Needed to believe that there was a light at the end of this dark, dark tunnel. He said that just like the first time you’d been chewed up and spat out by the games, you could both hold another vote to end the games and send you both packing. You could start your lives together having found something worth more than the weight of the gold the game makers had dangled just out of your grasp since day one.

Go on, and live for the ones who couldn’t.

You sucked in every word he said. Leaned on it, depended on it, clung to it equally as desperate as you clung to his chest and buried your face in the scent of him. He said he would find you after you were both dropped off no matter what it took. He’d find you, and it would be the last time you were without each other.

Clause three, He’d said, a dejection in his sorrowful voice. A majority vote will end the games.

It sounded too good to be true. And yet, you began to imagine it. You and Gi-hun. Life together outside the games, a life you wished you could have found years and years ago. Early mornings spent tangled together in bed sharing one lousy comforter. A dingy roof that always seemed to leak, floors that were always just a little too cold for comfort. Lights would flicker, your neighbors would be less than friendly. But you would be together. You’d patch the holes in the ceiling of whatever ramshackle shithole you’d both scrounged up the money for. He’d stand by the drafty windows and watch the world come to life in the early hours of the day, painted in the beautiful morning sun while you pretend to stay asleep just to drink in a few extra moments of his peace.

Eating dry ramen on a table made from a cardboard box. Sharing a bottle of Soju because you could only afford one.

You’d work long hours day by day to afford what little you had, but then at the end of every shift your sore feet would wander you right back home and into his arms and it would all be worth it. Sore, tired, hungry. Loved.

It was a lovely mirage. It was everything you never knew you needed. You never needed money, or fancy things. All you needed was someone to push through life with you. Someone like Gi-hun, with his boyish smile and his dark curly hair and his gentle touches with even gentler words. Someone like him who made you feel as if the world wasn’t something to shy away from. Someone like him, whose eyes lit up whenever you were at his side. Someone worth going through the everythings with.

Even then, in the heavy absence of the other players who hadn’t gotten to make it as far as you had, he made you feel like in that moment everything was okay. There weren’t guards just outside waiting for the call to shoot you down. There weren’t mysterious figures and masked men watching every move and over joyously pitting you against one another.

There was only him.

Gi-hun had pulled you so close to his chest that you could feel the heat of him. You listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart and the hum of his soft breaths. You longed for the next chapter- the life outside of this that he swore up and down was within reach.

Yes, you would both be painstakingly poor, but you’d also be richer than you could ever have imagined.

There, together, money had become just a mere word.

When you were both escorted to the last game, you couldn’t help the way your nerves seized your heart up in the cage of your chest. Something felt wrong. Off. Difficult to wretch down as every step brought you closer and closer to the giant doors you remembered from the first game you played here. And even though Gi-hun squeezed your hand in his own, you couldn't bring yourself to return the sweet gesture he offered you.

Sure enough, when the doors pulled open, it was that same field. The little girl statue stood looming in the distance. This time, however, something new caught your eyes. A white pattern on the ground- the unmistakable outline of Squid Game. It took your breath away.

A fight to the death.

Gi-hun was quick to announce that he’d be drawing from clause 3 to end the games before they had even begun. He said it with confidence, without a single stutter or falter in his voice. Over the days, you’d noticed how much of a backbone he’d grown. You feel the opposite had happened to you, your soul crushing with the weight of the dead and your nerves threatening to choke you up at any given point. If not for Gi-hun you’d surely have crumbled into dust by now. He eyed the square guard as he spoke, demanding for the voting to commence. Once it did, you would both get to go home.

”Player 456 wishes to stop the game,” He said into his walkie-talkie.

This would all just be a terrible memory behind you. You were ready to leave everything but him behind.

So imagine the surprise when his request was denied.

Imagine the dread, the pure and sheer defeat and rotten hopelessness that settled over your faces and into your guts like a pound of lead as the masked man spoke.

“Your request was denied. The vote may not be held during the finale of the Games.”

Gi-hun, initially was at a loss for words, gaping at the guard with disdain and hatred in his eyes. If looks could kill, that masked man would have dropped dead right before him. You wished he would.

You sputtered from where you stood, your head spinning faster than you could get a grip on. Those sweet and peaceful days you’d imagined with him shattered into nothing in an instant, the fragments running circles in your heads and taunting you. No mornings with him. No dinners. No drinks. No drafty window, no little shitty home that was rundown but still just perfect because it was yours.

This couldn’t be happening.

“We won’t fight!” Gi-hun announced with grit teeth. His hands balled into tight fists at his sides. “We’ll just stay right here for as long as it takes!”

Without missing a beat, the masked man raised his hand. It was then you noticed he had some sort of remote, and with a single click, there was a great buzzer that sounded in the distance. Flashing lights gripped both of your attentions- the clock from the first game. In bold, striking letters, you saw the numbers flashing before your eyes. Your heart sank into your belly.

5:00

Your mind could barely register the guards chatter behind you.

“If a player does not win before the countdown, both players will be eliminated.”

That was the moment the rain had first begun. Heavy droplets tapped away before it began to fall in raging streams.

While you were busy spinning on your heel and pleading with the masked man to have a single shred of decency, of fucking humanity, Gi-hun’s eyes never left you. Memorizing you. Taking down every last detail before he would lose you. You swatted the guards chest and begged with desperate eyes and trembling hands. It didn’t even phase the man, who merely stood there unbothered. Only when your gaze singled with Gi-hun’s and you could see the way vain was written in those beautiful irises did you finally let your shoulders fall in defeated anguish.

It was over.

It was all over.

The timer began to count down.

There was no escaping this. You were both going to die here.

Die, because there wasn’t a chance in hell you would even so much as raise your hand to that man. Nothing could force it from you- not even the always present threat of death hanging over your head closing in on you like walls. You couldn’t do it. Not to him.

God, not to him.

Judging by the way his eyes found yours, far away and crestfallen, you knew he was in the same boat. A sinking, drowning boat rocking in the sea of blood.

But hey, at least you were in the boat. At least you got to be there together. Bearing the suffering and loss wrapped within the gift that was getting the blessing to know, and to love, Gi-hun.

An agonizing fate laid before the two of you, but you’d both accepted defeat before the game had even had a chance to begin. Your lives were laid down and bared, ready to go, only if together. The thought of him dying here struck you worse than your own untimely demise. He had a daughter he longed to see, a mother he wanted to take care of. You had nothing back home. No family. Not even a damn cat. And he was still willing to throw it all away for you.

A part of you wishes you had brought the knife provided to you at your final supper. You could have plunged it into your neck by now, bled out and died content knowing that Gi-hun would get to continue life anew without the incessant burden of money. He could visit his daughter in America, he could go anywhere he pleased. He could pay for his mothers surgery and see out his days in the utmost comfort. He could leave this all behind.

Your friends wouldn’t have met their demise in vain.

But, you hadn’t brought it.

And neither had he.

After your meals, when you’d both realized that there was a high chance the final game being a fight to the death, you left those knives abandoned at the table. A pre-refusal to fight. You didn’t give a damn about winning anymore. The prize had become nonexistent. Gone- fucking useless. Nothing more but fucking numbers- nothing compared to the sheer weight of his life. You’d gone through so much, swore up and down that it’d be you at that finish line and you’d go home with your head held high and proud for all to see. To prove to the fuckers back home that you were not the worthless, mooching brat they’d all made you out to be.

The brat you'd turned yourself into.

Now, you would have given anything to go home with empty pockets and Gi-hun at your side. You truly had thought you would, too.

All washed down the drain in the blink of an eye.

You were a damn fool to ever think you could get out together. Of course this would be the end. Of fucking course. Either a final fight between found lovers, a spectacularly brutal scene indeed, or a quiet doom that would reach you within 4 minutes.

So, you chose to wait. To let death come and find you wherever you may be.

And it was an easy choice, especially so as he stood there watching you with those eyes. Because compared to him… Nothing else mattered. Absolutely nothing.

He called your name over the now deafening beat of rain.

“I can’t-...” He’s struggling to speak, his lower lip quivers. It rips you to shreds. “I can’t hurt you.”

A response dies in your throat, caught by the lump you’re struggling to swallow down. You force it out regardless. “I know.”

His eyes fall. The weight of your fallen friends is unimaginably heavy on your shoulders. They’d all died, some so that you could be where you are now. And for what. To watch you throw in the towel from beyond the beyonds all because you found yourself in love with your competitor. To watch you throw it all away at the finish line because you loved him more than yourself.

The clock ticks down. This is how you both die. When it reaches zero, shortly now, it would tick away at its last second and you would both be put down like miserable dogs. Really, the only comfort you could draw into yourself was thinking how you would find him in the afterlife. Drawn to him so intensely that you wouldn't be able to stay away even if you wanted to. Even if you tried.

But that wasn't for another three minutes and thirty seconds. Until then, you wanted- no, needed to be near him. If this was truly the end, if you were to die, it would surely have to be in his arms. Your eternal resting place.

He opens his mouth to speak, probably something so heart wrenchingly horrible that it would shatter you to pieces, but you stop him with a shaky, sad invitation.

“Could I have a second dance.”

Initially Gi-hun is stunned into silence. But then, that shocked expression melts away into a smile dripping in melancholy. Downturned eyes. He tries to be happy for you but you can see it. The beautiful upturn to his lips that doesn’t quite reach his beautiful eyes. He reaches his hand out and beckons you.

You all but throw yourself at him.

Gi-hun grasps your hand gently, you move to him like a moth to flame. His fingers are soaked, yours are too, droplets racing down your wrist as he raises your knuckles to his lips and plants a chaste kiss right over bruises. So sweet, if not for the loaded gun mere feet away itching to toss led through your skin. Sweet if not for the whimpered cry that tears itself from your chapped lips when he brings his other hand up to graze the pads of his fingers down the curves of your face. Over your cheek bones, brushing sopping wet hair from your eyes. Your heart hurts- it aches. You feel like you’re being held up by strings, knees threatening to buckle at any moment now.

Everything was all too much. It was too heartbreaking. Too bittersweet. Too intimate to display in front of whatever bastards were watching out of view. But yet, you sink into him like you’ve done it a hundred times before. It’s instinctual. You wrap your arm around his neck and squeeze his hand with the other. His eyes soften all over again and you feel tears stream down your cheeks.

That hand gently tracing over your battered and bruised expression finds its way down to your shoulder, then takes its resting place on your hip. No words were needed this time. You’d remembered the dance down to the minute detail. Back, forward. If you weren’t in the final moments of your life, you’d be proud of yourself for being such a quick learner. Left, right.

Or at least praising Gi-hun for being such an excellent teacher.

You move with him and let him guide you all over again. You feel the most subtle of tugs and then you’re turning with him, the mud beneath your shoes dragging as you go. He sways to a melody in his head, and this time, you can feel it as well. The gentle rhythm of push and pull. It entranced you. Everything faded into the endless sea of nothingness except for him. No games, no extravagant piggy bank overflowing with the spoils of blood money. Not even the square-faced guard’s looming presence just barely close enough to catch the corners of your eyes.

Just Gi-hun.

It was almost like being there again- that night. You remembered the terror of watching over your friends while they slept, shaking in your shoes carefully to observe every last movement your field of vision allowed you to soak in. Bated breaths, a racing heart despite the silence. You remembered wondering if you would even survive that night after witnessing the sheer brutality of the evening before. You had wondered how ever survived anything at all.

Gi-hun had pulled you from that haze of terror so effortlessly you didn’t even realize he’d done it until you were giggling and chatting away. There was something about him that you could never understand, something so unique that you couldn’t process yourself. His uncanny ability to make everything around you just… Vanish. And then you’d be at peace again, even for just that short while. Unafraid. Like death wasn’t waiting for you around every turn.

You’d have given anything to go back to that now. You’d appreciate it more, let him spin you round and round until you were dizzy and drunk in his presence. Listen to him hum a tune that you couldn’t place and talk you to sleep with that tender voice. He was so full of life that it spilled over his cup and ran into yours.

So full of life, yet so willing to throw it away if it meant you could carry on. Even now, at the end of the line he fought to climb, to make it to the top and to bring home riches for his family, to change the course of his life and finally do good for those who’d helped him along during his troubles, he wouldn’t finish it. Because that meant finishing you.

And you did the same. Survived to the brink of winning only to discover that there was nothing worth more than this. More than him.

How could this be the end?

Haven't you given enough? Haven’t you both suffered enough?

Were your lives just some long, cruel pranks played by a God with an abhorrent sense of humor? To throw you into the lion's den, to knock you down peg by peg until you believed the only way out was to kill or be killed, to dangle a prize dripping in blood just out of your reach.

Even worse, to put this perfect man right in your path. An unmoving, unwavering road block that you couldn’t bear to hurdle over. You’d rather die.

And so, you would.

Gi-hun can see the way you start to choke back cries. Your steps are growing sloppy, your fingers are twisting in his shirt.

“Look at me.” Rain and tears blur your vision, but you do. He sighs a breath of content. “Ah, there you are.”

He did it again- dragged you from the spiraling pits of your racing thoughts.

The clock reads 1:00 in taunting LEDs. Time is running out- it’s almost up. Only one more minute with him.

“Gi-hun,” You sniffle. “I can’t-”

He doesn’t let you speak, swiftly cuts off your incoherent cries by outstretching his arm and gently pushing you at the end of his reach. Before you know it, before you can register that your body is seemingly moving all on its own, you’re spinning. The world is a blur of grey and brown, and then you’re pulled right back into his arms.

He lets you shrink into him. Your chest stutters as you fail to hold back your sobs.

He rests a hand on the back of your head, and lets you weep. Once the tears fall, really fall, they don’t stop. They faucet from your eyes and disappear into his sopping wet clothes in body wracking, chest heaving cries that almost seem to echo. Every noise you make seems to bounce right back into your ears and then you realize that Gi-hun’s crying too. He holds you so tight to him, so fervently that it almost forces the air from your lungs. Gripping onto you like if he lets up you’ll be gone by the time he could even open his eyes.

You feel it to be true too, your hands gripping tight fists into the fabric of his shirt. You’d seen countless lives crumble to nothing at the drop of a dime- an entire life born, built and then erased in the blink of an eye. How were you ever supposed to let go of him?

By the time he’s just started to settle, you’re still shaking in your shoes, stuck in place and gripping him like a lifeline. He has to damn near pry you back just to get another good look at your face. Even though you’re sure that you’re red faced, snot nosed, and bleary eyed, he breathes out the softest sigh and the corners of his lip’s turn up to form a sullen smile. He tries to comfort you, wipe away at your tears, but between the rain and your incessant crying there isn’t much to be done. You’re babbling like an idiot, racing out anything you can think of. Desperate to fit it all in before it’s over.

Thank you for everything. You are perfect.

You are everything to me.

“I wanna go home,” You wail. “I want us to go home.”

Go-hun holds your face in his hands preciously. He pets his thumbs down your cheeks. Try as he might to comfort you, the timer settles on it’s final 20 seconds. 20 seconds to live. He shakes and presses his lips to your hair and breathes you in for what could be the last time. It hurts- you can’t breathe, you can’t think anymore. There isn’t enough time. It’s slipping through your fingers and you can’t catch it.

You just want more time.

“I love you.”

He’s the first to say it. There’s tears rolling down his face but he still smiles for you. I love you too leaves your lips before you even have a chance to process it yourself.

There’s an ear piercing buzz that cries over the sound of the thundering rain.

0:00

No more time.

Gi-hun doesn't let you see anything. He shoves your face into his chest and buries you, surrounds you with himself as if it’ll stop the bullets from ripping through his wiry frame and slicing through you. Footsteps sound from somewhere you can’t place. Your lives are over. You’re going to die. The dirt shifts under the weight of them, stopping merely a foot away. You don’t get to see what’s going on- he refuses to let you face it. But the way his body tenses, his fingers grip into your skin, his breath pauses, tells you all that you need to know. It’s over.

You wait, silent and trembling. Any moment and you’ll hear it- the shrill, air-slicing pop of the gun. You prayed it would be a quick death. You prayed there would be an afterlife at all.

The only thing you can think of beyond Gi-hun’s arms is the selfish wish that you die first.

But, it never comes. What does sound instead, is a muffled voice over a walkie talkie just quiet enough to be unintelligible over the sound of the rain. Seconds passed by- what the hell was going on? Are you being lulled into confusion before you’re inevitably wiped out? You try to peek over Gi-hun’s shoulder to see just what in the hell is going on but he keeps you flush to his chest, unwilling to allow you to leave his cover.

“What the hell is this?” Gi-hun demanded. The voice on the talkie continues to chirp.

”Yes, sir.” The guard suddenly says flatly, before he addresses you both equally as monotone. “Player’s 456 and 307. You are being offered a choice. If both players wish to end the game, you may do so now and forfeit.”

You wrench yourself from Gi-hun’s grasp to stare in bewilderment, but he’s quick to pull you to his side, desperate to keep his hands on you at all times. The guard stands unmoving, that square mask staring holes through you. This had to be a joke. A sick, fucked up joke where the moment hope is within your grasp your hands are chopped clean off.

“Forfeit…?” You parrot with a wavering voice. You can’t let yourself hope. Not yet.

The guard nods once. “Yes. You will receive no rewards.”

Gi-Hun swallows thickly. The rain continues to pour. He rubs circles into your shoulder with his thumb. He speaks slowly, unsure, damn confused just as you were. “But we both leave?”

Another nod. “Correct.”

Your heart rate explodes into a race, pumping fiery hot blood through your entire body. You could go home. You could both go home. Gi-hun is immediately in front of you, grasping your shoulders with each hand, capturing your attention in one movement. You reach out and hold his face. You’re floundering in a whirlwind of emotions but one stands miles above all the rest- hope. Real hope- hope that makes you feel weak in the knees and has you buzzing inside and out. You aren’t sure what the change was- why you were suddenly being offered an out, but you jump on the chance in fear it would disappear.

“I vote to end the game!” You cry.

Gi-hun’s lips press into a tight line but you can see the way relief floods him as if there was ever a chance in hell you’d say anything else. He smiles- grins and the corners of his eyes crinkle with joy.

“I also vote to end the games.”

”Both players have forfeited.” The guard speaks into his walkie-talkie.

A voice answers back but you can’t be fucked to give a shit enough to listen, too focused on the way Gi-hun’s smile is finally reaching his eyes again. Real happiness, drinking in the toothy boyish grin that you’ve come to adore with every fiber of your entire being, and it reminds you how you never knew you could feel so much for a singular person.

“Yes sir.” The guard pockets his walkie-talkie and holds his gun close to his chest, taking a step away from the two of you and using his hand to direct you towards the doors you’d both come wavering out of merely minutes ago.

Your heart is beating so quickly you fear it may burst from your chest at any moment, and even as the guard began to escort you both inside, you still have this gnawing feeling that this was too good to be true. That any moment now you would be sent hurtling back into devastation. You look back at the field one last time. You aren't sure why. You see the Squid Game laid out, the battlefield where you were expected to kill him, your Gi-hun. Where he was expected to kill you. You see the statue of the little girl standing at the end of the field. A gruesome reminder of where you’d started and where you were now.

Along the walls, just as the doors shut and block your vision, you swear you see something almost glistening, like glass. Like a window overlooking the field. But then Gi-hun is tugging you against his side and once more everything was nonexistent but him.

Don't look back.

There is an entire life ahead of you.

“Let’s go,” Gi-hun whispers as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go home together.”

It isn’t until you’re inside and those hulking doors slam shut does it finally sink in that you’re really going home- that both of you get to leave here with your lives. Tears well up in your eyes, make it hard to see as you stumble along, but Gi-hun holds you so right that it keeps you upright and walking at his side. He’d carry you if he had to, you were sure. You were sure he’d do anything for you.

And you’d do the same.

You'd been pulled from the fire.

You can see it clearly all over again. Lazy mornings in bed, sharing every meal. One bedroom apartments and plants lined up along tiny little windows. A long life of making ends meet but doing it with him.

You reach up to squeeze his hand, a smile finally gracing you.

“Together.”

#gi-hun x reader #squid game #seong gi hun #seong gi-hun x reader #player 456 #WAAA I HAD TO MAKE A HAPPY ENDING I COULDNT TAKE IT

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pseudowho · 15 hours ago

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Is living domestic life what you imagined it to be as a child/teen? I never thought I'd live this long and I dont know for how long I'll live anyway, but the thought of joy being found in the mundane keeps me going. Is it worth it?

By "domestic life", am I first to assume that you mean a 'nuclear family' in the classic sense?

Based on context, I'm going to assume so.

I also don't know why you feel, strictly, that you should have died and may yet die soon. I cannot make any assumptions on your health, physical or mental, so this also means all I can give you is my own experience. I don't mean to advise one not asking for advice, anyway; all you have asked for is insight.

So I came from the sort of family where, for the most part, being 'a mother' was every woman's main identity. It was just what the women were. For most of my life, I never assumed I would be anything but a mother. It's funny, because in hindsight, none of the rest of my life and career aspirations strictly matched with being 'a mother' in the traditional sense, so I clearly had a long term delusion, there.

If I had known how distinctly in possession of myself I was, I might have known how hard it would be to give myself up, for babies.

Either way...for context: I fell very hard in love, and we grew up together (from ages 14/15) still in love, and we are now 31 and 32. I am a midwife, he is an English Professor/Lecturer and Teacher. We married aged 22/23. We have three sons, aged 7, 4 and 1.

Good things about domestic life:

Loneliness isn't a thing, here.

Lots and lots of affection, both physical and emotional.

The load of life is shared (note: I have a husband who is very, very outside of the norm, with no toxic masculinity and an approach to equality/equitability in work, childcare and housework).

When you are your own family unit, you're pressured less by family to get involved in their shit. Because you've got your own shit.

Living with the love of your life is amazing.

Having babies who are half you, and half the love of your life, is an incredibly beautiful thing.

Raising babies, although supremely difficult, is a joy.

Taking turns being at home and at work is helpful.

You learn to be much more compromising, patient and forgiving.

Bad things about domestic life:

You don't realise how much personal identity, independence or privacy you will lose, being a parent.

Exhaustion.

Parenting is hard. Really hard. Really, really hard.

Finding time for each other, as a couple, is also hard. Any time you do find, at least one of you is likely exhausted.

Good god, so much cooking.

Good god, so much laundry.

Good god, I swear I just vacuumed yesterday.

Good god, groceries are expensive.

Barely keeping your head above water with life admin and finances and childrearing and housework and work and life and ever having any time alone, is absolutely real.

Very very little downtime.

If you are someone who finds joy in the mundane, then yes, you may find a lot of joy in domesticity. So much of it really is mundane; being at home with kids, is often simultaneously boring and stressful. Very odd. Perhaps I'll miss it when they're older.

My personal favourite moment, is the happy sigh at the end of every day, when the kids are in bed, and the house is largely clean, where you fall into each other's arms, and he looks at you like you built the world for him, and just says:

"Hello. You are beautiful."

And I bury my face in his chest, and breathe in the smell of him, and the stale cologne, and the sweat, and life, and say:

"God, I missed you. More than you know."

And it's basically the same, every day.

In a kind of beautiful way.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

#pseudowho #pseudowho answers you #haitch #Mrhaitch

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fandomflux33 · 9 hours ago

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Fr. If you use the r slur, go have a good long think. I work with intellectually and developmentally disabled teens and so many of them just want to be talked to like people. The r slur makes them into the other and further isolates them from their communities, which is both disheartening to every single kid, and dangerous because IDD people suffer the most abuse/neglect/SA of any population.

The r slur also doesn’t acknowledge the complexity of their disabilities. Relatively few have processing delays (retarded traditionally means slowness), and of those I’ve seen with processing delays, it says nothing about their intellectual capacity or capacity to learn, the diagnosis is just a guideline for teachers and friends that you should wait like ten seconds before asking them a question again instead of assuming they’re not listening to you.

Go make a friend in the IDD community, go volunteer at public events or community day-hab programs. Most IDD people (every population of humans has a percentage of jerks ofc, so I can’t say all) I’ve met so far have been a delight and joy to get to know, even if only in a professional capacity.

In a capitalistic world that focuses so much on maximum efficiency and productivity, it’s nice to listen to a group of people who have to focus instead on how to live a meaningful, happy life, understanding that it may not be worth it or possible to do the things at the rate or how a neurotypical person does.

It’s nice to be in a community who understands that everyone deserves to have what they need, to be cared for, and to have loved ones and fun activities. Some of my students may never have a job or be verbal, but they still (obviously!) deserve good things and we work our damndest to make sure they get them.

Use the r slur and I punch you. Use the r slur and like 2-3 of my students will punch you. Don’t use the r slur.

i know everything 90s/early 2000s is like in or whatever the fuck right now but people really gotta stop casually saying the r slur it’s starting to get ridiculous

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starwarskawaii · 2 days ago

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Annoyance and Empanadas Pt. 2

A Miguel O'Hara fic

A/N: In which I make yet another self-insert fic. This will probably be a series. If I make a couple other disabled folks and Miguel-actually-has-a-personality-not-just-a-hot-body understanders happy, it's all worth it.

edit: Just a warning, this one is longer

CW: Reader is implied again to be autistic, or just awkward as hell, 2099 cursing, more mentions of chronic pain, mentions of past hurt due to disability for reader, reader has a brother, reader has a niece, brief suggestive content, still pretty PG, one use of damn, pretty much same content as last one, tone is a little more serious than pt 1

Miguel stepped into your apartment with you. Your messy apartment. Shock, how did you live like this?! There were blankets everywhere, you never made your bed (a complete waste of time, you had no one to impress), your laundry was permanently overflowing (how did you own this much clothing?!), there were figures and dolls and knick knacks absolutely everywhere, books stacked haphazardly on shelves in an attempt to make them all fit, comics tucked in between, fan art on the walls... There was so much sensory input he almost felt dizzy.

You flopped down on the couch, somehow hitting your leg with a forearm crutch on the way down. Only you. You tossed the aids aside and Miguel picked them up off of the ground and leaned them against the doorway. You almost never used aids inside your apartment unless it was a bad day. Better to fall at home than in front of a bunch of strangers, was your reasoning. Miguel did not agree with your reasoning. Miguel kind of wondered how you had managed to stay alive before him.

As you cozied up on the couch, Miguel began to make your empanadas. Beef and cheese, your favorite. You never had a taste for the chicken. Admittedly, neither had he, so this suited him just fine. You two had fallen into a sort of routine. Monday through Friday you worked your normal job, and he would come by after you got home to cook with you and help with all the things you would never ask him to go out of his way for but needed, and Saturday you would spend the day at the Spider Society, helping Miguel map out Spider's lives. He used to work extremely long hours, since most other Spiders would have to go home, and he technically already was home. But since you came into his life, he had finally learned to delegate more.

Today was Saturday. You loved Saturdays, and so did Miguel, though neither of you had ever actually told the other. Maybe, Miguel thought, maybe it was time to tell you. He knew you were attracted to him, physically at least. He knew you cared about him. He just wasn't sure if you loved him like he loved you. But something in him as he made those empanadas and reflected on your routines together made him realize that those feelings, the ones he wasn't sure whether they were gratitude or love, were absolutely love.

You sat on the couch, holding a plush and willing yourself to get out of your uncomfortable day clothes and into something that didn't make you want to scream. Miguel had seemed so uncomfortable with you being in your pajamas the first time he saw it. You weren't really sure why, bodies are just bodies, right? Maybe because he was such an awkward nerd? He couldn't be attracted to you, could he? Not back then, anyways. He called you "hermosa" now. Seemingly platonically? You really weren't sure. You're not exactly great with social cues, even after years of practice. Plus, you're a disabled woman. What man wants that? Who signs up for a lifetime of their partner never being able to give them what a normal woman can? You weren't even sure if you could have kids with all the unknowns with your health. Not to mention that Miguel and you were from different universes. You were pretty sure he wanted to have kids again. How would that even work? How would any of it work?

Back in the kitchen, Miguel wondered many of the same things you did. How would it work? How could it work? Did you even want him? Your parents were long past too far gone to help you, having disabilities of their own, and no one else around you had even tried to. If he made this awkward, you might feel like you had to part ways with the one person who was caring for you. He didn't want that. Still. You were always so mature. You were friends with people who you had crushed on who had rejected you. Why wouldn't you do the same for him? And he was a genius who invented multiversal travel, who said he couldn't figure out how to make an interdimensional relationship work? In some ways, you two already did. That settled it. He had resolved to tell you.

You changed into an oversized nightgown, with soft seams. You had cleaned up some of the blankets you left out along your way to your room. You knew Miguel hated messes. The blankets were still out from having your niece over a few days ago for a sleepover. You pondered whether you should tell Miguel how you felt, more explicitly than the hints you had been dropping. He was so dense... You hated pursuing, it gave the other person too much power. And you were already permanently stuck in a power imbalance with any and every man you meet. Disability put you at a permanent disadvantage in relationships. You had a very pesky genuine need for a partner. You thought about your family, your brother, your niece, your parents... How would they feel about all this? How could you even tell them about it all?

You entered the kitchen and Miguel turned around to tell you the food was almost ready. His heart stopped. Somehow you looked even more beautiful than usual, wearing the same ratty nightgown that you refused to get rid of, believing that you were doing your part for the environment by wearing it until it was scraps. Something about knowing that he loved you made him love looking at you even more.

"Miguel?" you questioned, seeing the strange look on his face. "You alright there, love?"

"Do you call everyone love?" Miguel blurted it out before he even realized what he was saying. Shock. Shockity shocking shock.

"I mean, only people I care about, but I suppose I call a lot of people love, why do you ask?" you raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was going to lecture you on proper coworker etiquette (as if you two weren't past that point), make some smart mouth comment, or finally address your flirting. The possibility of the last one made your heart nearly stop. Half the reason you flirted was because Miguel would never pick up on it.

"I think I love you"

"What?"

"I mean I know I do. I mean... We've been close friends all this time, and you're the only person I have ever been able to just be open with and... Shock, this is coming out all wrong."

"Migs," you said tenderly, as if you were approaching a wounded animal (which you basically were, he is half spider). "I love you too"

"You do?"

"Well duh, your smart mouth and endless brooding isn't easy to put up with without rose colored glasses." Love did not dull your sharp tongue. Not even a little. Poor Miguel. You were still very annoying. No matter how much he loved you. "Can you handle being a relationship with me, though?"

"What do you mean, cariño?"

"I mean I have a broken brain and body. The stuff you do for me after work will become a full-time job. I am a full-time job. I am so much work... And I haven't been worth it for anyone yet." You hated saying it out loud. You believed Miguel loved you. But you also believed that loving someone didn't mean you could love them well. You had to be sure Miguel knew what he was signing up for, because you loved him. You wanted him to be happy with you. The real you. The 24/7 broken brain and body having you.

Miguel leaned over and kissed you gently on the forehead. Somehow, you knew exactly what the gesture meant. You knew your Miguel. You knew all his buttons, you knew his story, you knew his heart. You knew you had it, in spite of whatever was broken with you. He knew he was signing up for a life of doctor's appointments and medication issues and flare ups and wheelchairs and fighting your insurance company. And he didn't care. He did it all already, and he loved it, because it was for you.

"I can handle you amor" Miguel spoke after what felt like a perfect, peaceful lifetime of just staying close to you after the kiss. "You are so worth it. Worth every single trial that comes our way"

"I'm surprised you told me. I'm surprised you didn't catastrophize the idea of being with me in your head until you were convinced that being within the same universe as you would kill me. Which, to be clear, it won't. Any bad things that happen are just a part of life." You reassured him. You felt a little bad for teasing him at a time like this. But he did catastrophize everything. "What about kids? I always assumed you would want more, now that you don't force yourself to carry the weight of the entire multiverse on your back and stopped blaming yourself for what happened. How would that even work, for us?"

"You want a baby with me already? Dang, looking to live out some of your fan fictions?" Miguel grinned. You glared. He stopped, and spoke "I'm honestly not sure, mi amor. I would need to run some tests, and there's your health to consider... Maybe we would adopt from your universe? We probably don't need to figure it all out now though, mi corazón."

He raised his brows at you and smiled. Just then, the timer went off for the last of the food. He made all your favorites. Whether he consciously knew or not, he was always going to tell you tonight.

"I do have one question though, on that topic. Can you... Are you even able to... Would it hurt you if we..." His voice kept trailing off. Weird. What is he- Oh. OH.

"Yes, I can do that, I'm just more limited in how. I know we're in love and all, but I strongly prefer to wait for that until much farther into the relationship. Like wedding night farther." You were bright red. Miguel had thought about that? With you? You were slightly under the impression, given the way he worked so tirelessly, that this Miguel variant was a sexless being. So much for that theory. You regained your composure a little. "Sorry, I realize that probably isn't what you were hoping I would say."

"Don't apologize, you were just honest. Besides, it's been ages since I..." His voice trailed off again. "I will be completely fine waiting for you. Anyways, we have much more important things to figure out, like how to have a cross dimensional relationship"

"And how to eat all this food you made." You added, salivating at the spread in front of you.

In front of you was elote, some cut up fresh fruit (when did he get that? You really ought to see what he's doing in your kitchen more often...), and, of course, those empanadas. You could kiss him. You should kiss him. He was yours now, wasn't he? As much as you did your best to not oversexualize him and to see him as a person when you were a fan, he still looked like THAT. You had still wanted this for so long. Gosh, you should kiss him.

You leaned over to him as he set down the food, attempting to find the best angle to meet his lips. Why did you have to fall for this damn tree? He was over a foot taller than you. A freaking tree, a very hot tree, very kissable tree, that loved you... What were you mad at again? You finally decided there was only one way to get what you wanted: asking.

"Kiss me?"

You weren't sure how this was all going to work. Probably pretty similarly to how it was now. You weren't sure how you were going to tell your family you were dating a cartoon character. But it would probably be fine. You weren't sure how life with Miguel would end up, what your family would look like. Would your family be the two of you and a cat? A kid? Just you two? In spite of all the unknowns, as he pulled you in for that kiss, you were somehow sure it would be fine.

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in this series!

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara au #miguel o'hara x disabled reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #x disabled reader #spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #libby writes

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