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bwabys-scenarios · 9 months

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Fixer Upper

Part 8

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

part 7

part 9

taglist: @fabitheraven @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lemonslut @homeinmydreams @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @monainanuttshell @wow-im-gay

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The loser of the family game night turned out to be Leorio. As punishment, he would be forced to wear a pair of (Name)’s heels to the Barbie Movie.

“Ugh, as long as they’re not big heels I don’t care. I don’t want to get sprayed by the hose again. I ended up with bruises last time…”

‘Bruises? From being sprayed with water?’

Kurapika glanced between Killua and Gon.

“Remind me not to lose family game night.”

The group washed up before heading to bed.

“We’re waking up early tomorrow, so get some rest! I wanna see the Barbie Movie as soon as possible!”

Kurapika watched as (Name) ran up the stairs, giggling to herself. She was beyond excited for tomorrow, the blonde being able to tell just by her happy aura.

‘I hope she won’t mind I don’t have anything pink for tomorrow…’

He left the living room, stopping when he spotted Killua and Gon in the laundry room.

“Here, throw mine in too!”

Kurapika kept walking, not wanting to know what the two were up to. He just wanted to sleep so he was well rested for their long day tomorrow.

Leorio slept in the spare bedroom upstairs, Kurapika slightly jealous he got to sleep so close to her.

—————

Kurapika woke up early, before the sun had risen. He decided to get dressed and drink some coffee before anyone else was up.

He opened up his shirt drawer with a frown. All of his white shirts were gone. Weird, he remembered folding them away just yesterday…

‘Maybe I left them in the dryer..?’

Kurapika left his room with a yawn, opening the laundry room door and peering in.

Someone had definitely washed clothes, that much he could tell.

The blonde opened the drier and crouched down. His shirts were in there, he could see their outline even in the dark room.

He pulled his shirts out and strolled back to his room, setting them on the end before turning on the light.

“No…”

He stared at his shirts that used to be white, now a light pink color. In the middle of his clothes was his red tabard, and a much smaller white shirt…

Kurapika remembered the conversation he’d heard in passing last night, his eyes widening.

“Killua…”

Kurapika rushed out of his room and down the hallway, throwing open the door to Killua and Gon’s shared bedroom.

The two were still asleep, Killua on the top bunk and Gon on the bottom. Kurapika flicked the light on, causing Killua to groan and roll over.

“Turn that off, you dumb blonde…”

Kurapika scowled before throwing Gon’s shirt at Killua, who caught it.

“What the hell were you thinking turning all of my shirts pink, you little-“

Gon yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Kurapika? What are you doing in here?”

Kurapika paused, glancing down at the sleepy boy. “… you two turned my shirts pink. Why?”

Gok tilted his head. “Well Killua heard you didn’t have a pink shirt. He wanted to help you out.”

‘Killua did? Seems unlikely…’

“Wow, how ungrateful. I made sure you had something pink so (Name) wouldn’t be sad and now you’re yelling at me at 6 am. Smooth.”

Kurapika huffed, turning on his heels and leaving their room. ‘Don’t have time for this. Gotta get-‘

“Hi Kurapika!”

He internally groaned when he heard (Name)’s voice from the kitchen. Kurapika wanted to make breakfast for everyone, but now that she was up she wouldn’t let him. She was stubborn like that.

“Good morning…”

“Not a good morning, he yelled at us.”

Killua walked into the kitchen and hid behind (Name), sticking his tongue out at the blonde.

“Yelled at you? Kurapika, why did you do that?”

She gently pushed Killua’s unruly hair down and kissed the top of his head.

Kurapika’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. ‘That little brat…’

“He-“

“I simply made sure he had a shirt for the Barbie movie, after he made no effort to get one.”

Killua sighed, looking up at (Name) with crocodile tears. “He’s so mean to me. I did the same for Gon, and he didn’t yell at me!”

Gon walked in wearing his usual outfit, only now wearing a pink undershirt.

“Yeah, Kurapika, there’s no reason to be upset. Do you not like the color pink?”

The all turned to look at him. (Name) seemed a little offended. “Oh. I didn’t know you disliked the color pink so much…”

“Wait, I didn’t say that! I-“

“Sorry, I wouldn’t have asked you to wear pink if I knew…”

(Name) sighed and turned back to cooking, Killua sending Kurapika a smug look before he and Gon left to get dressed.

“… I don’t hate pink. It’s just… not my color?”

“Pink is everyone’s color.” Killua yelled from the hallway.

Kurapika didn’t answer, simply walking to his room and shutting the door behind him.

——————

“God I think I’m going to die. Is this what being a woman is like?”

(Name) watched Leorio struggle to walk down the stairs in a pair of her pink heels, having to hold a hand her Killua’s mouth to keep him from laughing.

“If you mean baring the weight of being uncomfortable to conform to beauty standards, then yes.”

She offered him her hand as he reached the final step, leading him to the couch.

Kurapika left his room, wearing his red tabard and pink undershirt. (Name) glanced back at him and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Oh, nice. Pink is… close to red! It’s good enough!”

Kurapika glanced at the rest of the group and then down at himself. Each one of them, besides (Name) who was still in her pajamas, was dressed in bright pink. Even Gon’s shirt had soaked in more pink than his!

“Well, I know who’s not winning best dressed. Less competition for me…”

Leorio had an entire hot pink suit for Christ’s sake!

‘Overkill much?’ Kurapika thought, scowling. (Name) served everyone breakfast before running upstairs to get dressed herself.

“Is she… upset I’m not wearing pink?”

“Wow. He’s learning.”

Kurapika sent Killua a glare.

“I wouldn’t say she’s upset, maybe a bit disappointed. She’s been looking forward to this for a while, and was nice enough to give us two days notice.”

Gon was the voice of reason, patting Kurapika’s shoulder as he spoke.

“… I see. I didn’t mean to disappoint her, I was just busy yesterday.”

“When are you not busy?”

“…”

Kurapika folded his arms over his chest and stared out the window. He didn’t have a response for that, at least not a response that would convince Killua of anything.

The boy may be a rude brat, but he could point out when someone was lying like it was second nature to him.

“Hey, we have to stop in town to grab some snacks for the movie theater anyways. Why don’t you and Killua go grab you a pink shirt or something?”

“Leaving me and Killua alone sounds like an awful idea.”

“Maybe, but he’s the only one that can take you where you need to go, and I am NOT walking around town in these heels.”

Kurapika groaned, plopping down onto the couch. Killua followed suit, obviously not thrilled about the situation either.

‘But… it’s for (Name).’ Killua thought, glancing the blonde.

“Alright, I’ll take you. But you owe me one.”

Kurapika just nodded, his head in his hands.

While they were distracted, (Name) began to walk downstairs, the sound of heels clicking against the wooden stairs.

As she came into view, Leorio turned Kurapika’s head to look at her, his own jaw dropped at the sight.

“You boys ready?”

She was wearing a short gingham patterned pink dress that stopped at her upper thigh. It flared out at the bottom, a white petticoat peeking out.

On her legs were a pair of white thigh highs with a lacy ruffle at the top, squishing the soft flesh of her thighs. Her pink Mary Janes clicked as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

She set her heart shaped handbag on the dining room table as she glanced at herself in the mirror one more time.

Kurapika couldn’t speak, and breathing wasn’t coming much easier. She looked absolutely adorable, different than the previous times he’d seen her dress up.

“You’re like a real life Barbie!” Gon said, jumping up and following her around as she packed her belongings into her purse.

“Aww, thank you sweetheart. That’s what I was going for!”

She ruffled the boys hair and smiled, the smile reaching her eyes this time. Kurapika realized that she looked so much prettier when her eyes crinkled up when she smiled.

“Come on, if we don’t get there early enough we won’t get the good seats!”

The group followed behind their very pink friend, jumping into the car. “Okay, we’re going to be splitting up, gang.”

“What is this, an episode of Scooby Doo?”

“Killua.”

He quieted down, folding his arms over his chest.

“Me and Gon will be shopping for snacks. You, Kurapika, and Leorio will watch the car.”

“Why does Gon get to go and I don’t?”

“Because you got kicked out while Gon was out of town, so he’s the only one allowed inside with me. Leorio’s wearing heels, and if Kurapika isn’t here to watch you, who knows what you’ll do.”

Leorio sighed. “You’re right. I’m in no shape to catch him.”

(Name) squeezed his shoulder. “Exactly. I’ll be back in 15 minutes.”

Killua waited until the two were in the store before climbing into the front seat.

“Alright, let’s go. We have maybe 15 minutes to get you another shirt. In (Name) time, that means 25 minutes.”

Kurapika slid into the drivers seat and drove out of the parking lot.

“Turn here.”

“But that’s a-“

“Just turn you dumb blonde!”

That was the second time he’d been called a dumb blonde today. ‘I hope that’s not a new nickname…’

Killua and Kurapika left the car, Leorio waving at them from the backseat.

“Are you sure this is the only place that sells pink shirts for men?”

“… they sell pink shirts.”

Kurapika sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Killua led him inside.

Kurapika looked over the abysmal men’s section, seeing nothing pink. “You said there were pink shirts for men.”

“I said there were pink shirts.”

“… where Killua?”

The boy pointed to the women’s section, Kurapika narrowing his eyes. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“If it was a joke I’d be laughing. Come on, do you want to make (Name) happy or not?”

Kurapika thought about the current situation for a moment. Was pleasing (Name) worth his pride?

‘…’

Kurapika looked down at his new shirt, pleasantly surprised at how well it fit.

It was a plain black shirt with the pink Barbie logo on the front. He’d also bought a pair of pink women’s jeans.

Again, they fit… too well…

“You’re not beating the allegations of you being a woman, Kurapika.”

Kurapika sent Leorio a glare. “I don’t want to hear anything from you, not right now.”

While Kurapika didn’t care about wearing pink, he was a little embarrassed to be decked out in women’s clothing. The jeans were bedazzled on the butt for goodness sake!

“Boys, we’re back I-“

(Name) looked at Kurapika, who was now in the backseat again, now wearing his new Barbie outfit.

“I… bought an outfit. For the movie.”

His cheeks were a light shade of pink. Kurapika didn’t often put in this much effort to please another person, it felt… strange. He wanted her to compliment him, tell him how nice he looked.

“Oh, you look so handsome! Pink really is your color!”

She placed the bags of snacks in the floor of the backseat. Kurapika’s blush deepened, Killua glancing at him from his seat with a raised eyebrow.

They drove to the theater, (Name) barely able to stay still in her seat. “Oh, my friend saw it last week and said it was amazing! I’m so excited!”

Kurapika watched, his eyes softening ever so slightly. He hadn’t seen her this happy since the Hunter Exam when she got her license.

(Name) stepped out of the car, barely able to contain her excitement as she dashed towards the movie theater.

“Hey, be careful, you’ll trip!” Killua called out, but even as he scolded her he was grinning ear to ear. He’d only seen her like this a few times before, it always made him smile. (Name) did so much for him, it was only fair he’d try and make sure she was happy too.

Leorio stumbled into the movie theater, having to steady himself against a wall. “Jesus my legs are killing me. How do you wear these, (Name)?”

“Through gritted teeth and with bandaids on my heels!”

She left the group to buy their tickets.

Kurapika watched as (Name) stood in line behind a bunch of other women dressed in pink. Out of all of them, Kurapika’s eyes only fell on her. He wasn’t interested in the thin woman in skin tight pants in front of her, or the curvy woman with the low dip in her top.

(Name) was the only one that could capture his attention, his lust. He watched the edge of her skirt twirl around her legs when she walked, the soft squish of her thighs when she crouched down to pick up a little girl’s Barbie.

The women in line all seemed to adore (Name), smiling and laughing as they took pictures together. She seemed so at peace, wiggling in her spot as another woman showered her in compliments.

“She seems pretty popular with women.” Leorio said, having taken off his heels to apply bandaids.

“I guess so…”

Leorio hummed. “Maybe they’ll get lucky and she’ll give them her number.”

Kurapika raised an eyebrow. “Her number? Why?”

The dark haired man tilted his head, but didn’t answer.

(Name) hurried back to the group, handing out everyone’s tickets.

——————

The five sat down in their assigned seats.

From left to right was Gon, Killua, (Name), Kurapika, and Leorio.

(Name) held her breath through the commercials, having to be reminded to breathe by Killua. “Come on, it’s almost time. You don’t want to pass out before it’s started, huh?”

She only nodded and pulled her purse into her lap. Kurapika glanced down at her lap to see her pulling out a small Barbie doll. It was obviously old, but taken care of. As the movie started, she held the doll to her chest, beaming as Barbie appeared on screen.

“It’s her! It’s Barbie!”

She shook Kurapika’s arm and pointed to the screen, her eyes twinkling.

He could only nod, flustered when her hand didn’t leave his arm. She was too distracted by the movie to notice, but he wasn’t.

The movie continued for around thirty minutes, (Name) completely enraptured by the world of Barbie.

That was until the movie suddenly turned off.

Gon was the first to say something. “What’s happening?”

(Name) didn’t answer, the smile falling from her face. “… I’m not sure, but we should get out of here. Let’s go to the lobby and talk to a manager.”

Kurapika watched as she stood and brushed her skirt off. She seemed disappointed and a bit upset, holding onto that Barbie doll like it was a lifeline.

She helped Leorio down the stairs, looking around to make sure there wasn’t any danger. Kurapika noticed her herding the two boys behind her when they tried to walk ahead.

“We’re not sure what’s happening, so stay by me, okay?”

Kurapika watched her with soft eyes. Even though she was clearly upset that the movie she’d been looking forward to had been interrupted, the first thing on her mind was making sure they were safe.

(Name) talked with the people at the front desk while the others gathered at the small arcade attached to the side.

“You got any quarters, Kurapika?” Gon asked, hoping to play a few games while they waited.

“No, I don’t carry change.”

“Why?”

“It’s heavy.”

Gon and Leorio exchanged a look. “Okay…”

(Name) jogged back, Killua meeting her halfway. It was almost like he could sense she had bad news, his hand taking her’s.

“They…”

She held her Barbie tight in her other hand, her lip quivering.

“They had to cancel all their showings for today… they had an issue with the film.”

Killua was quick to try and console her. “Hey, we can see it some other time! W-“

“But we won’t be able to get together like this some other time!”

Kurapika flinched. Every member of the group glanced his way when she said that.

“I… I’m sorry. It’s not that big of a deal, let’s just go home.”

(Name) shoved her Barbie into her purse and stormed out the door, holding her keys in her hand.

“(Name)!”

Killua followed after her as the other three watched.

“… when are you leaving, Kurapika?”

The blonde didn’t meet the young boy’s eyes. “… next week on Friday.”

Leorio pulled out his phone and began looking some things up.

“Hold up, I have a plan.”

———————

Leorio took over driving the mom van. (Name) was too busy sulking to pay any attention to the road.

“You know…”

(Name) glanced up from her phone as Leorio spoke.

“I heard they’re selling a Barbie themed build-a-bear…”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “… and?”

He didn’t respond, instead pulling into the parking lot of a familiar store. (Name) peeked out the window, her eyes lighting up at the sight.

“It’s-“

Leorio smiled at her from his seat. “Yep, it’s build-a-bear.”

(Name) leaped out of the car and dashed to the front of the store, staring up at the sign. She glanced back at the group of four, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Leorio…”

She jumped into his arms and kissed his cheek. The man laughed, spinning her around a bit.

“Let’s go get you that bear, Barbie.”

Kurapika watched this from a distance, a bit ashamed he hadn’t thought of anything to cheer her up.

He knew her less than he thought. Kurapika didn’t know her love for Barbies or stuffed animals, he didn’t understand it either. So even though he was jealous that Leorio had received a kiss, he put on a smile and followed them into the build-a-bear.

“Hello kiddos, what are you looking for today?”

The employee addressed Gon and Killua, but the two pushed (Name) forward.

“She wants the Barbie bear.”

The employee blinked, but her smile returned quickly. “Oh, that’s great we just received more bears and bathing suits!”

(Name) squealed in joy, following the employee to the back where she brought out a box of Barbie themed bears.

“Here you go!”

(Name) held the freshly fluffed bear to her chest.

“Boys, do you want a bear as well?”

Gon instantly nodded his head. “Yeah!”

Killua saw the look in (Name)’s eyes and agreed to a bear as well.

The other two declined, but one look from Killua told them she wanted them all to get a bear to celebrate the occasion.

‘I don’t even like stuffed animals…’ Kurapika thought as he picked up a small yellow bear. It was the cheapest one available.

“(Name) can I get thi-“

“If its ugly then no.”

“But it’s not ugly! It’s just… okay it is ugly”

Gon dropped the abomination of a stuffed animal back into its box.

“Can I get this one?”

Killua held up a simple brown teddy bear. (Name) gave him a quick nod before going back to browsing the clothing available.

“(Name), what should I get?”

Leorio paced around in his heels, seemingly getting the hang of walking in them.

“You’re supposed to pick it yourself, but…”

She picked up a blue bear. “How about this?”

Leorio snatched the bear out of her hands and ran over to get it stuffed so he could flirt with the employee.

‘Of course…’

(Name) watched as Gon reached for the frog plush, sighing in relief. At least that one was cute, unlike that strange bird creature he’d asked for before.

“Is everyone ready? Got your outfits?”

They all nodded and brought their bears to the counter.

“Will that be all for you, ma’am?”

“Yes!”

(Name) looked to the price and paused. It was a few hundred dollars, money that could pay for multiple of her bills that month. She glanced down at her own bear. It was the most expensive out of the bunch, so if she took it out…

Kurapika pushed her out of the way and handed the employee his card. “I’ll be paying.”

“Hey, Kurapika-“

Leorio placed a hand over (Name)’s mouth. “Shh, we’re treating you. Don’t worry about it.”

But she would worry about it. (Name) bit her lip as the woman bagged the bears and hands them out to each of their new owners.

“… thank you.”

She pulled her bear to her chest and inhaled her strawberry scent. Kurapika smiled down at her and ruffled her hair.

“You’re welcome, (Name).”

Killua and Gon held their bears, tilting them and turning them. “They’re soft. And… nice!”

“I think that’s the point.”

The group piled back into the mom van, Leorio once again taking the wheel.

“We have another stop. You don’t mind, right (Name)?”

She squinted. “As long as I get to pay for my own things this time.”

Leorio waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah.”

Their next stop was a small ice cream parlor a few minutes away. (Name) picked out a (flavor) ice cream cone before they all left to sit outside.

“This is nice. I’m a little sad we can’t see the movie, but spending time with you all is more than enough for me.”

The four shared a knowing glance with each other.

After they finished their ice cream, they once again got in the mom van.

“One more stop! Cover your eyes, alright?”

She frowned, but complied to Leorio’s wishes. She heard the car door open and the feeling of Killua’s cold hand grab her’s.

“Come on, I’ll lead you.”

Killua was one of the only people (Name) trusted enough to follow without complaint.

“Alright, open your eyes.”

She pulled her hands away from eyes to see they were at the movie theater. But this wasn’t the one they’d been at before, it was different.

“Is… is this…”

Tears started to pool in her eyes as she realized what was going on. Gon stepped forward and leaned his head on her shoulder. “It’s the movie theater!”

Leorio smiled. “I looked it up, and this movie still has a few airings of the Barbie movie going on. I bought tickets, it starts in 30 minutes.”

(Name)’s mascara began to run down her cheeks. “You did that for me?”

Leorio nodded, pulling her into a side hug. “Of course, you would have done the same for any of us.”

She sniffled, reaching her hands up to rub her eyes but was stopped by Kurapika.

Kurapika grabbed her hand and began to lead her inside. “Kurapika, what-“

“Your makeup. It’s running.”

He opened the door to the women’s restroom and walked in with her, lifting her up to sit on the counter. “Hey! You shouldn’t be in-“

Kurapika covered her mouth. “Shh. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

She pouted, but allowed him to pull her makeup out of her purse. He began to wipe at her smeared mascara, his touch not as gentle as it should have been.

“I can do it myself…”

Kurapika raised an eyebrow. “Not with those shaky hands.”

(Name) blinked and glanced down. Her hands were shaking. ‘He noticed that?’

Her gaze softened. (Name) forgot how observant he could be sometimes. Kurapika finished wiping away her mascara and opened it, applying her mascara for her.

“Blink.”

She listened, batting her long lashes at him. He felt his heart thump against his chest. (Name) really was adorable, even when her makeup was a mess.

“There, all better.”

He helped her off the counter so she could look at herself in the mirror.

“Aww, Kurapika, thank you.”

She turned around and pulled him into a tight hug. Kurapika’s hands shot out to hover around her awkwardly, not knowing if he even had to right to still hold her.

(Name) held onto him for a moment more, head pressed firmly against his chest, before she let go.

“Let’s go, I don’t want to miss the movie!”

The two paused when a group of women walked in, Kurapika stiffening next to her.

The women didn’t give either of them any attention, besides a girl in the back.

“Oh, momma she’s pretty.”

The little girl pointed at Kurapika, her Barbie doll clutched in her other hand. “Like Barbie!”

(Name) glanced at him, a smile on her face. The blonde could only pout.

“Let’s go.”

Killua was waiting for them outside the bathroom. He gave Kurapika a look, his nose scrunched up.

“Have fun in the women’s restroom, you perv?”

(Name) pinched his cheek. “Killua, be nice. And you shouldn’t be saying things like that!”

He swatted at her hands with a pout.

Kurapika’s cheeks were pink from embarrassment. “Tch…”

He walked past the two and towards the theater.

“You feeling any better?”

Killua held onto her hand, his eyes meeting her’s. The white haired boy had been worried for his dear friend, considering how important this movie was to her.

“Yes, much better.”

She squeezed his hand and walked with him to the theater.

——————

(Name) left the movie theater sobbing, having to be guided out by Leorio.

Gon wasn’t fairing much better. His bottom lip poked out as he tried not to cry. “Why were the Kens so mean to the Barbies? What’s a patriarchy?”

He shook Killua by the shoulders, who only groaned. “Ask (Name) about it later…”

“(Name), it’s alright. Come on, you’re smudging your makeup again!” He tried to calm her down, glancing around the lobby to see other women staring at them.

“Is he bothering you, miss?”

A woman had approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder as she squinted at Leorio. He tried to respond, stumbling over his words, but (Name) just sniffled.

“No, he’s my friend. I’m just… the movie…”

The woman nodded. “Yeah, it was good wasn’t it?”

They shared a knowing look, (Name) letting out a heavy sigh. “Thanks for checking on me.”

The woman only smiled before walking away.

“Why did she come over to check on you, (Name)?” Gon asked, tilting his head. (Name) ruffled his hair.

“Well, sometimes all us women have are each other. She thought Leorio might be bothering me, so she walked over to see if I was alright.”

Gok frowned. “But she was even shorter than you. What could she have done?”

(Name) laughed. “That’s not the point, sweetheart. We put ourselves on the line sometimes if it means potentially protecting another woman. It’s called being a girl’s girl.”

Gon didn’t quite understand, but he nodded nonetheless. Kurapika walked towards them holding (Name)’s purse.

“Got it.”

He handed the purse to (Name). “Thanks, dear. Now we can go home!”

She’d forgotten her purse in the movie theater, and Kurapika had offered to grab it for her. The blonde blushed at the pet name, quickly walking ahead of them towards the car.

It was dark now. The outside was crowded with women of many different ages all smiling and laughing together.

“Hi Barbie!”

(Name) smiled when a little girl waved to her and Kurapika. “Hi Barbie!”

She nudged Kurapika’s shoulder, causing him to roll his eyes. “… hi Barbie.”

Gon and Killua waved and smiled to other kids their age, all decked out in pink. Leorio was the odd one out, the only man decked out in a full pink suit wearing heels.

“Wow, who’s man is that? He’s a keeper…”

Leorio perked up at this comment. “Oh wow, in a pink suit too? God that’s hot…”

He began to strut towards their car with a bit more confidence. Throughout the day, he’d become much more comfortable in (Name)’s heels.

‘This is all gonna go to his head.’ Killua thought.

(Name) watched Kurapika walk for a moment, her eyes drifting down.

“Oh, I like the design on your jeans, Kurapika!”

The blonde paused, glancing back at her.

‘The only design on my jeans is…’

“Were you looking at my butt, (Name)?”

She covered her mouth as she gasped. Gon tilted his head. “Why were you looking at Kurapika’s butt?”

“Gon don’t ask people things like that.” Leorio said, groaning.

(Name) stuttered out a reply. “I-I guess I was.”

Oh. He hadn’t been expecting that. Now Kurapika was the one blushing and covering his mouth.

‘She was checking me out?’

He got into the car quickly and used his tabard to cover himself. Just thinking of her looking at him and LIKING his body made all the blood rush to his dick.

“Wow, (Name) I didn’t know you were a pervert.”

(Name) smacked Leorio’s head, still flustered. “I’m not! He’s just got a cute butt and it’s literally shiny right now!”

‘Cute butt?’

He covered his face, the heat in his cheeks nearly burning his hands.

“I can’t believe you’re objectifying Kurapika, (Name). Didn’t we just watch a movie about that?” Killua said, shaking his head.

(Name) glanced back at Kurapika. “Sorry, sweetheart. You do have a cute butt though.”

‘SHE SAID IT AGAIN!’

He didn’t answer, just ready to get home before he came in his pants.

———————

As they rode home, (Name) got a call. Everyone stayed quiet as she answered it, Leorio turning the radio down.

“Yes? Oh hey! Yeah I just saw it. Yeah yeah. Oh my god I cried too! Oh… yes he’s here.”

This made the entire group curious. Which ‘he’ was she referring to?

(Name) bit her lip before responding in a whisper. “No, you’re not fighting him. Oh stop, I told you I was over it already.”

‘I think she’s talking about me.’

Kurapika watched the trees pass by outside his window, a frown on his lips. Even her friends disliked him. Had what he’d done affected her that much?

“Wait tell her I’ll fight him!” Killua yelled.

“Killua you don’t even know who we’re talking about.” (Name) said, covering the speaker of her phone with her hand.

“It’s Kurapika, obviously.” Killua answered, the blonde flinching at the call out. “Who else has-“

“Killua.”

The white haired boy stopped at Leorio’s words. “That’s enough. Let’s not ruin this day, okay?”

Killua knew how important this day was for (Name), but he struggled to stay quiet. It could have been an even better day if she didn’t base it off of Kurapika being there. Then she wouldn’t have been so sad if the movie was cancelled.

‘The only reason we HAD to see it today is because he’ll be leaving soon, and probably never talking to her again.’ Killua thought, frowning. She cared deeply for the blonde, and it pissed Killua off.

(Name) had turned her attention back to her phone. “Wait, really? This week? Oh, I’ll have to check in with everyone first…”

(Name) turned to the group, smiling.

“Who would like to go to the beach Tuesday?”

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

Note

hear me out… washing the impala at the bunker with dean when you’re bored. please and thank you 🫶🏼

literally rbed a gifset of him doing that exact thing earlier today. i’m feral for this scene {and the entire episode} so my brain is running wild rn hehe (also the quote from said episode, “i’m mostly confused” was one of my first handles on tumblr)

pairing: dean winchester x reader

—————

You strolled around the bunker, frankly unsure what to do with yourself without the absolute urgency of chasing down some big bad. Not even a casual case had come up in a couple days, and you were growing a bit restless.

You finally ran into Sam after wandering for a while, catching him as he made a sandwich in the kitchen.

“Hey,” you greeted briefly, walking over to steal a piece of ham.

You chewed on it as he glanced at you with a quirked brow. He chuckled softly, then sighed.

“Hey,” he finally said. “You done eating my sandwich ingredients?”

“It was one piece of ham, Sammy.”

“Sam,” he corrected.

“I’ve been living with y’all for how long?”

He paused, then shook his head softly with a smile.

“You doing anything today?” you asked, hopping up on the counter.

He watched you for a moment. “Not really.”

“Ugh,” you groaned.

“What?” he asked, laughing.

“I’m bored,” you exclaimed. “We’re all cooped up, I need to… I need to do something.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged. “I’m gonna eat my sandwich.”

You sighed hard. “Where’s Dean?”

“Garage. I think he’s washing the cars.”

“All of em?”

“Probably,” he said with a smirk. “Go bother him.”

“Bother him? You think I’m bothering you?”

“Yes.”

You scoffed playfully, hopping off the counter. You started walking away, but made sure to get the last word in.

“One of these days I’ll be long gone and you’re gonna miss me like crazy, Sammy.”

He smiled again, not able to get in a word as you left for the garage.

You heard music playing before you even got to the door, opening it carefully and walking inside. You saw him, soaking the impala in soap and water, just a black t-shirt and jeans.

At least he wasn’t wearing the short-shorts this time.

You let yourself watch him for a few moments, never not in awe as to how someone could look so good in a plain black t-shirt. Eventually you decided to stop creeping on him and headed towards him instead.

“Hey,” he said as soon as he saw you.

“Hey. You need help?” you asked, lingering near the hood as he wiped down the windshield. “And by that I mean, please let me help. I’m dying to do something.”

He smiled, nodding towards the suds-filled bucket.

“Grab a sponge.”

You picked up the other sponge from the bucket, wasting no time in scrubbing down the roof of the car. You both listened to the music, slowly but surely getting every nook and cranny of the vehicle. You were working on one of the back wheel wells when Dean grabbed your attention.

“Hey, trade-off,” he said, tossing a newly-wet sponge in your direction.

Unfortunately for you, he didn’t give enough of a verbal warning. The heavy sponge hit you in the leg, knocking you off your balance and making you land straight on your butt. You opened your mouth in a feigned offense.

“You dick,” you said, laughing lightly.

He laughed at you, not even bothering to help you back up. You scrambled up, slamming the sponge on top of the car and grabbing the hose. You called for him, stopping him from laughing right as you sprayed him with the hose, effectively soaking his shirt.

His eyes went wide, freezing in his motions for a few seconds.

“You little—”

He started after you, not stopping even as you started spraying him again.

“No!” you squealed.

He closed in, grabbing you and effectively trapping you against the car. He wrestled the hose from your hand, turning it on you.

“How do you like it?”

You screamed and laughed, trying to push him off. He was relentless, giggling with glee as he soaked you completely. You reached behind you to get the sponge, wringing it out over his head. Luckily for you, it shocked him enough to get out of his grip. Unluckily for you, he quickly recovered and caught up to you before you could get far.

“You’re not getting away that easy,” he muttered.

He grabbed you from behind as you tried running, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding your arms to your chest. You laughed hard, trying to wriggle away.

“You’re so mean,” you yelled, his grip only tightening.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” he said into your ear, clearly proud of himself.

“Whoa,” you heard Sam’s voice. “Should I give you two some privacy?”

You stood up a little straighter, looking in his direction. Dean only slightly loosened his grip.

“We’re washing the car,” you stated as if he didn’t just walk in with fully functional eyes.

He merely quirked a brow. “You two look cleaner than the car.”

“She started it,” Dean said quickly.

You craned your neck to see him behind you, giving him a sour look.

“You threw a sponge at me.”

“You hosed me down.”

Sam nodded slowly, backing out of the room quietly to retreat.

“Not fair,” you said, almost smiling again.

“Very fair,” he stated.

“Let me go,” you laughed.

“No way,” he said, only holding on tighter. “This is your punishment.”

You smirked. “If you really wanted to cuddle this bad, you could’ve just asked, you know?”

“How much you gonna let me ask for?”

“Not much I wouldn’t,” you said, hoping this wasn’t crossing any lines.

He hummed, an obvious smile in his voice, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Apparently, he didn’t care much about a crossed line or two.

check out the drabble masterlist | send requests for more

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

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multi-fandom-friend · 4 months

Text

🌑Creepypastas Personalities and things they do in my eyes🌑

🫀 Eyeless Jack is very stoic, not showing much emotion ever. If he has to, for example if he helps to calm down Sally he’ll show concern. But outside of the mansion he never shows emotion. He’s kind when he wants to be, and isn’t completely heartless. If a pasta that he particularly likes is sick than he’ll go out of his way to check on them and grabbing something they need and once his sees that they’re okay he’s gone. If one of the proxies gets hurt in the field? He’s actually throwing a fit that they should be more careful. He’s one of those types of people where he gets mad when someone’s hurt because he couldn’t stop them from it, but he’ll never admit it.

🌲 Slenderman I see as a father figure for everyone. He’s is like a single dad. With the help of two out of his 3 brothers (offenderman is seen as a disgrace to his family’s name and unfit to be around children, especially Sally) He lets the kids (the grown adults that most of them are) rant if they want and tries to have fun with them. He understands that almost all of them didn’t have good childhoods and he feels bad. That’s why he keeps taking them in, having them promise to work for him. Once they say yes, he takes them in and the mansion grows another room (or tombs as I like to call them) 🎮 Ben is pretty nice. Sure, he’s snarky sometimes but he’s a kid. What do you expect? Plus he stays in his room most of the time or he’s hanging out with Jeff. He sees some of the other proxies as his siblings, but he’ll never admit it. Never in a billion years. He’d rather go swimming. Slender does have to trick him into showering because of how scared of water he is. Don’t ask me how bc I dunno. Personally, I would just spray him with a hose. But I digress

🧸 Sally is the average little girl, but she gets angry easily. I’m not sure where people got the notion that she wouldn’t be an angry restless spirit but that’s their opinion and it’s valid too. I feel like she’s usually nice and kind like everyone says but if she sees offenderman or anyone she deems a threat she can and will throw one of her “fits” where she makes the house rumble and she throws things towards the threat. She’s done it because she saw a spider. 🔪 Jeff is an ass. Period. But he does see the creepypastas as some sort of family. He’ll never admit it either. He makes fun of everyone because that’s how he shows affection. The only person who recognizes that is liu, his brother, who says nothing. Slender tries his best to just leave the kid alone, if he’s behind honest he’s kinda worried about him, but he says nothing. Jeff also is really smart he just never uses his brain so no one knows that.

🐍 liu is shy and quiet. Doesn’t really like talking to many of the proxies so he just keeps to himself. He only ever talks to slenderman and masky really. Sometimes he’ll have a chat with his brother, but he and his brother don’t have a very good relationship. He’s very cuddly when he wants to be and only when he wants to be. He loves a good book. Usually true crime books or something with a good plot. He doesn’t like romance novels because it reminds him too much of who he lost. He tries to be as optimistic as possible, but sometimes it’s hard for him.

🍬 LJ is giddy and goofy, always cracking weird jokes. He has learned over time what everyone’s sense of humor is so he’ll make jokes based off of that. Have dark humor? Dark jokes. Have dad humor? He’ll crack a good dad joke. Deep down he likes making people laugh still, he just doesn’t wanna be laughed at. He’s the one who hangs out with Sally the most when slenderman isn’t around because 1. He has the same childlike wonder and 2. Slenderman thinks he’s funny enough to keep that little ball of energy occupied long enough to not run off into the woods and find some poor hiker and scare the soul outta them.

🪓 Toby is kinda a mix of quiet and a fuck. He likes being nice to some people when he wants and then he’ll be a dick to others. I have a headcanon that he has BPD so that’s why he constantly switches between being nice and acting like you murdered his cat in cold blood. Usually he’s pretty nice and knows how to control it most of the time but it gets the better of him. He is also very good friends with Ben and Jeff, being nicer to Ben and meaner to Jeff. I don’t think he’d hang out with Masky and hoodie too often, but that’s just my opinion.

🚬 Masky’s just plain “I don’t want to talk to you leave me alone.” Never has liked talking never will like it. He has exceptions for certain people like Hoodie and Slenderman. Sometimes he’ll talk to liu because he’s actually one of the more chill proxies and leaves people alone unless they want to talk to him. You could also probably find him smoking outside or sitting outside Slenderman’s office because he feels important when he’s near him. 🍁 Hoodie is the opposite of Masky. Wanna talk? He’s so down. Loves talking about everything and anything. If there’s a mission, though? He stays quiet. Doesn’t talk. He’s laser focused. it’s like he has 2 different personalities.

⚕️ nurse Ann seems like the type that likes taking care of people. She is a nurse after all. She just doesn’t like men very much, considering what happened to her. She trusts most of the proxy boys not to do anything, but if they do then she doesn’t let them near her again. She gives off lesbian vibes and I kinda headcanon that she is dating or best friends with Jane. After missions she’ll patch up the people that need it and I think she’d have her own little infirmary tucked in the corner of the mansion with everything she could possibly need.

🖤 Nina is the perfect example of an extrovert. She’s so hyped up and excited that she gives Sally a run for her money. Contrary to popular belief I think she’d be pretty good friends with Jane. They both got their heart broken by Jeff but Nina continues to try and get him to love her. She likes baking and playing games with all the proxies. Sure she’s seen as annoying but she’s really one of the only extroverted people in the manor.

🕷️ Jane is quiet and kind. She likes to help where she can. I see her as religious to some extent? Not a woman of god per say but a different religion. I feel like she would be pagan and have an altar of some sort to some kind of deity. She is usually in the library reading some sort of book or bringing a book from there to the infirmary to read to Ann.

A/N: this took me a few hours to write because I had to think and plan the ones I wanted to do. Likes and reposts are highly appreciated!

#creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #jane the killer #nina the killer #jeff the killer #eyeless jack headcanon #ticci toby #nurse ann #hoodie marble hornets #mh masky #homicidal liu #sally creepypasta #laughing jack #ben drowned #slenderman

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lixiesfreckless · 5 months

Text

Burn It | l. m.

the last installment to Punch It, a fic from the PICU

➸ synopsis: The Golden Tire Cup semifinals is today, and Minho has the opportunity to get the Wolfgang Street Racing club to the finals for the first time in four years.

Hopefully with you by his side, he'll be able to make it into the top two.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader(ft. idols from jypnation, smtown, hybe, kq, everywhere, I went a bit crazy)

➸ word count: 3.6k words

➸ general content: streetracer!minho, very very dangerous street racing(do not attempt to do any of this, no matter how tempting it may be), a stupid amount of cameos, one somewhat misogynistic background character, gearhead culture

➸ warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, a mild car wreck

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author's note: this is(should be) the final official installment to the picu! imagine punch it, floor it, and burn it as one continuous timeline, with the ending being this chapter. do I have a favorite? no, not after writing this chapter.

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! you don't need to listen to it while reading(especially if the lyrics will bother you), but it's a street racing tournament for crying out loud. do yourself a favor and listen to these epic vibes.

yes, it's meant to be listened to in that order(starting from Deja Vu). shuffling it will result in Minho cramming you into an air fryer for 20 minutes at 180 degrees.

♫- Deja Vu

You feel the refreshing spray of hose water on your bare back, soaking your black bikini top for the fourth time this evening.

Whipping around, you find Minho rinsing off the back of his car, free hand stuffed into his pocket as he whistles and avoids eye contact.

He’s hit with a soapy sponge, square on the back of his black shirt.

“Hey!” He ditches the hose, deciding to pause washing the vehicle in favor of chasing you around the bumper.

The Wolfgang racing club had gathered at Changbin’s house for the annual Golden-Tire-Cup-and-car-show-preparation-party, detailing and fixing cars as needed before it’s time for the race, which takes place in the California desert shortly after sundown. Members were littered across the lawn and garage, replacing rims, tightening brakes, and avoiding Minho, who had taken a liking to spraying anyone that came close to his ride.

“Yo Min, I love what you did with the brakes!” Jisung points and yells to him, twirling and fumbling a ratchet wrench as he runs into the garage, kneeling to meet Seungmin who slides out from under someone’s car on a skateboard.

“What did you do to them?” You ask, cocking your head to the side and crossing your arms.

“Oh, I painted them red to match,” he says nonchalantly, the only sign of something strange being the pink dusting his cheeks.

“Match…match what? There’s no red on your car-”

No, but your whole car is red.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you walk around the hood of the car, and Minho only looks up at you right before you lean in and plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiles as you step back, sighing and admiring your teamwork.

The 1993 Toyota MR2 glistens in the late afternoon sun, not a single scratch or scuff mark streaking the ebony shell. Minho doesn’t think the car has been this clean since he first got the keys.

“You nervous at all?”

“Me? Nervous?” He scoffs and waves you off, and then worry creases his features as he drops the act. “...a little. We haven’t made it this far in years.”

“Yeah, but…” you say, pulling him in to wrap your arms around his half-soaked waist, “for the best racer in the city, I think it’s manageable.”

“Laying it on thick, are we?”

“Better take advantage of it while you can,” you giggle, and he rolls his eyes before leaning down.

Suddenly, a set of loud engines cut into the air as they fly around the block corner, cars rumbling and thundering as they slow down and approach Changbin’s house. A modified black vintage Mustang jerks to a stop in the driveway, and then the door flies open, a slender man with long skunk-stripe hair stepping out onto the hot pavement. A leather jacket with the word Guerillaz across the back sits draped on his shoulders as he closes the car door behind him, and other men start leaving their respective cars.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what did I miss?” The man says, tilting down his sunglasses and smirking at the two of you, still holding each other. You take the hose from Minho and aim it at him, spraying a stream of water and sending him into a fit of shrieks as he holds up his team jacket as a shield.

“Look what the scaredy cat dragged in,” Changbin taunts from the garage, before ditching his work gloves and crossing the lawn to meet the unexpected intruder.

Wooyoung catches Changbin in a hug, elated to see his old teammate after so long.

He used to be a part of the Wolfgang racing club before he moved up the coast to Sacramento– but since he couldn’t keep his hands away from the wheel, he ended up making his own club, one that ended up driving back down to team with Wolfgang to win the Kingdom Cup a year later.

They only come back down twice a year; once for the Christmas car show, and again in the summer for the Golden Tire Cup Championship.

Wooyoung lets go of him, nodding towards Minho as he takes off his sunglasses.

“Semifinals, huh?” He says, looking at him in awe. “You must have gotten a lot better since I last saw you.”

“My teacher was alright,” he sighs and shrugs, and you spray his face and walk off, leaving him dripping wet in favor of going to find Yeji.

“Now that, I did not see coming,” San whispers, dapping up Hyunjin as he approaches the latter’s Supra, now painted red to match his hair. “The last time I saw them, they hated each other.”

“Wouldn’t you feel the same way if you met your match?” Ryujin pipes up from the ground, tightening the nut on a wheel. “They both thought they were the best before Minho won Changbin’s car.”

“Minho did what?” He asks, eyes turning to saucers.

“Dude, let me tell you about what happened last summer…”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Hall of Fame ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Night is falling in the desert, but it’s never looked more awake.

Rows upon rows of cars line up on the dry earth, and photographers and gearheads alike gawk at the automobiles, snapping endless amounts of pictures and videos with their devices.

Further down the track a stage is set up, with some DJ working a growing crowd as they sip on whatever they can get their hands on.

You’re at the edge of the car show with Yeji, helping her ward off condescending men with boring car questions. Surely they must know that car enthusiasts don’t all have to be male.

Another one saunters up to the two of you, sizing you up with a stare that lingers just a little too long at your exposed midriff.

“And this is your car?” he asks, and in favor of keeping your team from being disqualified, you keep your arms folded tight against your chest.

“Yes, it’s-” Yeji stops you with a raised hand, looking up from inspecting her manicure and staring him dead in the eyes.

“It’s my 608 horsepower V8 engine 2015 Porsche 918 Spyder, why do you ask?” She asks sweetly, smiling and batting her eyelashes at him. He narrows his eyes and reluctantly walks away, realizing this wasn’t a fight he could win.

“Nice one,” you chuckle, right as your phone rings in your team jacket. You check the time and answer it, noting that it’s just after 8 pm before speaking.

“Hello?”

“Your boyfriend says to ‘get your ass over here’. The race is about to start,” Lia says, half drowned out by the crowd you’re sure is swarming there by now. You look at Yeji, who waves you off with a shake of her head.

“I think I can fend for myself,” she whispers, and you nod in response.

“I’ll be there in two minutes.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

You hear bets being made and taunts being thrown as you push your way through the crowd, making your way to the start of the track. Four cars of different makes, models, and colors sit at the starting line, with members of their respective teams standing near each one, buzzing with anticipation.

After showing the back of your jacket you get let onto the track, where at least half of your gang circles Minho, giving him some last words of advice and encouragement.

“Remember, the gas is on the right and the brakes are on the left,” Felix jokes.

“Oh oh, and your seatbelt,” Jeongin joins in, egging him on, “don’t wanna break the law, now do we?”

“Alright alright, knock it off you two,” Changbin laughs, then looks to the team’s resident mechanic.

Chan is silent for a moment, then puts a hand on Minho’s shoulder.

“You’ve got this,” he says quietly, and the team nods in agreement. “Be safe.”

You push your way into the circle, and Chan smiles at you before gesturing to everyone else.

“Let’s give them some space, yeah?” he says, and the group disperses, wishing safety and slapping Minho on the back before exiting the track.

The man of the hour turns to you as you step up to him, the shouts of the crowd fading into the background as you meet his eyes.

“How are you doing,” you whisper, flicking some sand off of his team jacket. He looks out at the crowd, drawing in a deep breath before looking down at you again.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of losing,” he admits, running a hand through his black locks. “I don’t want to let everyone down, we’ve come so far-”

“Because of you, Minho,” you interrupt, pushing a pointed finger against his chest. “We only got this far because of you. We’ll be proud no matter what trophy you take home.”

The creases in his forehead ease at your words, and you take his gloved hand into yours.

“You’re not here to be the best; we already know you are,” you remind him, smiling. “You’re here to have fun. Winning would just be a nice bonus.”

“Oh yeah? And what happens if I win?” He grins, pulling your hand a bit closer as you chuckle at his forwardness.

“I can think of a couple things-”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO THE TENTH ANNUAL GOLDEN TIRE CUP SEMIFINALS!”

The voice of the announcer booms over the speakers as a tall man with a silver microphone enters the track. You quickly leave a kiss against Minho’s cheek, then lean over to his ear.

“Come back to me in one piece,” you whisper, then squeeze his hand and run off the track.

“WE HAVE QUITE THE LINEUP FOR YOU TODAY, SO LET'S HEAR IT FOR OUR RACERS!”

The crowd erupts into cheers as each racer stands in front of their car, awaiting their introduction.

“FROM THE P1ECE PEDAL PUSHERS, HWANG INTAK!”

A guy with curly brown hair waves at the crowd, blowing kisses and causing several girls pushed up against the barricade to faint.

“FROM THE BLUE FLAMES, NAKAMURA KAZUHA!”

A Japanese chick with sick looking sunglasses does a small curtsy, and you scream along with the crowd, always excited to see other women excited about racing.

“FROM THE NEVER CRASHING TIRES, LEE JENO!”

A guy with snow white hair spells out his team’s acronym with his hands before waving, and you can hear his team start chanting from down the track.

“AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, FROM THE WOLFGANG, LEE MINHO!”

You and the gang howl as loud as you can as Minho turns around and points to his back, showing off the detailed wolf design on the back of his team leather jacket.

The four racers shake hands with each other before each getting into their cars, waving one last time at the crowd before shutting the doors.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Turn Back Time ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

If Minho really thinks about it, all races are the same.

The announcer had gone over the rules, and despite this not being his first race by a long shot, he assumes that anyone would have been able to guess them.

Three laps around the track.

No shortcuts.

Start at the sound of the gun.

Unlike NASCAR, foul play technically is allowed, but none of the teams that made it to the semifinals made it by playing dirty. It felt too much like cheating. That, and no one wanted to scratch their nice cars for a trophy if they didn’t have to.

Minho grips the wheel and closes his eyes as a girl wearing next to nothing struts out to the middle of the track, holding an air gun in her gloved hand.

Slowly, the sounds of the crowd roaring and his opponents cheekily revving their engines fade into the background, the world around him becoming more still as he goes to his happy place.

He opens his eyes again and he’s back, back in the passenger seat with you holding the steering wheel.

“What are you waiting for?” you say, giving him an annoyed side eye.

“Aren’t you going to tell me when to go?”

“Okay, go.”

“What-”

BANG!

“Go!”

Minho breaks out of his reverie and floors it, the racers doing the same as the crowd screams in delight.

“AND THEY’RE OFF!” The announcer booms, standing in a tower on the other side of the starting line as a black haired girl next to him waves a giant checkered flag. The cars zoom forward, getting smaller and smaller as they tear down the track. A tiny drone follows them, becoming a tiny red light flashing in the distance.

Minho grins, falling into the rhythm of upshifting like it’s an old song he loves.

The P1ECE’s car takes the lead, narrowly cutting corners while NCT’s car stays hot on its trail, not letting it get a lead. The Wolfgang’s car gives them their space as Blue Flame’s car stays next to it, hugging the inside of every curve.

One lap down, and Minho is cruising in third place as the cars zip past the finish line.

“IT REALLY IS ANYONE’S GAME FOLKS…”

Silently, you say a prayer as the cars disappear from view, the crowd going insane around you and your gang.

Inside the car, Minho is having a ball, treating the desert track as his own personal time trial as he and the others burn rubber, trading places around every turn.

He lets Kazuha’s car pass him as he eases up on the gas, enough to let her gain a small lead.

“What is he doing?!” An angry man yells, gripping onto the barrier as the cars fly past the start again, signaling the final lap. You assume he has money on the line as you smirk, knowing Minho’s real strategy.

“THERE GO THE RACERS AND- HOLD UP- LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DO WE HAVE A DRIFT RACER?!”

The crowd becomes uncontrollable as they hear the announcer, seeing a small cloud of smoke go up from the edge of the track as Minho drifts around the first turn, not slowing down.

“That’s my boyfriend!” You point and scream, barely keeping yourself behind the barrier.

Minho spins the wheel left and right, howling inside of his car as it slides around every curve, leaving a smoky trail behind it. Threatened, the other racers speed up, attempting to widen the gap between him and them, but he’s gaining ground way too quickly.

He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he wanted to. He’s having too much fun.

He hardly realizes there’s only thirty seconds left between him and the GT Cup Finale.

And then, on the final turn, the unthinkable happens.

Jeno’s car pulls away as something under Kazuha’s car explodes, and then starts smoking.

Minho watches as her car drifts into Intak’s, making them both turn sideways and start to block the inside of the turn.

Heart dropping, he realizes he won’t be able to clear the turn.

“Are you not going to slow down?!” He yells, frightened at the calmness in your voice.

“Why would I do that-”

“To keep us ALIVE?!” He screams, grabbing onto the middle console. “Because that’s how you handle turns?!”

No.

“This is how you handle a turn,” Minho whispers, and then taps on the break and spins his steering wheel to the right.

Up ahead, you feel yourself going lightheaded as you see the smoke start to build, blocking the rest of the track from view. Only the neon green NCT car was visible, blazing towards the finish line.

Next to you, Hyunjin goes pale, and you grip onto his arm, more to steady yourself than to comfort him as the crowd collectively holds their breath.

And then, the crowd explodes into cheers.

“RUN ME OVER AND CALL ME DINNER- WOLFGANG MAKES IT AROUND THE FINAL TURN!”

Minho flies around the corner, tires skidding against the ground while the car drifts before he steps on the gas again, emerging from the smoke. You scream, nearly shaking Hyunjin to death as you grip onto his jacket and watch the MR2 draw near to the finish line.

The girl next to the announcer wildly waves her checkered flag as the NCT car crosses the finish line, followed two seconds later by the Wolfgang car, before they both screech to a halt.

Minho throws the door open, nearly tripping over himself as he strains to see down the other end of the track, followed by Jeno.

A hush falls over the crowd as they wait in near silence, hoping to see anything other than smoke emerging from the two cars that fell behind.

In the red haze from their tail lights, one figure emerges.

Kazuha’s thumb shoots up from her body, carried in Intak’s arms as he walks them both towards the starting line.

“THEY’RE OKAY!” The announcer cheers, nearly dropping his binoculars as the crowd joins him.

Relieved, Minho's eyes search for yours before locking on them, barely having any time to react as you sprint across the track, and subsequently crash into him. The rest of the gang hops the barrier, whooping and hollering as they celebrate their finalist.

“I knew it, I knew you could do it,” you nearly sob, clutching onto his jacket.

“You saved my life,” he shudders, holding your shoulders tightly. “I would have crashed into them if you never taught me to drift.”

You don’t hesitate; you can’t. You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for the kiss he should have gotten before the race.

The crowd screams as he picks you up and spins the two of you, not caring one bit about who’s looking as he returns your embrace in earnest, smiling against your lips.

“GET A ROOM, WILL YOU?” The announcer laughs, walking up to the two of you and dragging Jeno with him. Minho chuckles and puts you down, and you catch a glimpse of the announcer’s mic, spelling Soobin in sparkly silver letters.

“EVERYONE, OUR GOLDEN TIRE CHAMPIONSHIP FINALISTS!”

Soobin takes Minho’s arm and raises it along with Jeno’s, and the crowd goes wild.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Be Free ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

slowlee: come to the kitchen rq

You read the text and swipe away the notification, slipping the phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Glad to hear that no one got seriously injured,” the man you were talking to says, stepping back onto his motorbike. “Typically for people like us, crashes end up being way less epic.”

“Well I'm glad you haven't gotten into any,” you jest, waving to him and his crew before they roll off the driveway, their silver hexagonal logos glinting off their jackets in the moonlight.

You turn and walk back up to Changbin’s house, alive and overflowing with guests as the afterparty is in full swing.

Making your way through the crowded house, you dap up Hongjoong and a tipsy Mingi, do a shot with Chaeryeong and Yuna, and slide into the kitchen right as Minho picks up a brown bottle, instantly meeting your gaze.

“EVERYONE!” Minho yells, pouring a shot of whiskey into his cup before pulling you to his side. You try and fail to keep a grin from landing on your face.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announces, surveying the room of members and supporters turning to face him and grinning. “To this team, for making it to the finals after four years!”

Whoops and whistles fly around the room.

“To Changbin, for helping me keep his old car in top condition so I don’t die on the road!”

A crazy sounding laugh comes from the man holding baby Chun Ja, complete with a mini racer jacket and red binkie.

“And to the rightful owner of his car,” he lowers his voice, face softening as he looks down at you.

“Minho,” you whisper, eyes widening as you stare up at him in shock.

“I want them to know,” he whispers back, hand squeezing your waist.

“For beating my ass by seven seconds in our duel last year,” he continues, and you watch as several members around the room blink and look at each other in confusion. Yeji and Hyunjin’s eyebrows shoot up simultaneously, and your best friend’s eyes meet yours, equally shocked. “And teaching me that there’s no point in being the best, if you’re not having fun with it.”

The room erupts into cheers as Minho raises his solo cup, and everyone follows suit, cups rising all around the kitchen. “Next stop, the Golden Tire Cup Finals!”

“Shit, I’ll drink to that,” Wooyoung laughs, before everyone throws their shots back.

As the party quickly resumes, you’re swarmed by some of the girls in the gang, bombarded with questions about the legendary duel that decided the fate of the club’s leader. Amongst the chaos, you lock eyes with Minho, who’s getting slapped on the back by Hyunjin while some other members tease him.

He mouths three words to you, and you swear you feel your whole soul light on fire.

You giggle, flaming red as you mouth them back.

I love you too.

After all, you should have known that after acquiring your heart, there’s only one thing he could do.

Burn it.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Burn It

a lixiesfreckles_ production

cast(in order of appearance)

Lee Minho as the finalist

Han Jisung as the baby mechanic

Kim Seungmin as the only one working

Jung Wooyoung as the old teammate

Seo Changbin as the host

Choi San as the one that's figuratively late to the party

Hwang Hyunjin as the drama

Shin Ryujin as the pit crew

Hwang Yeji as the one who knows her shit

Lia as the messenger

Lee Felix as thing 1

Yang Jeongin as thing 2

Bang Chan as the experienced mechanic

Choi Soobin as the mc

Hwang Intak as the heartthrob hero

Nakamura Kazuha as the victim

Lee Jeno as the neo one

Kim Hongjoong as the designated driver

Song Mingi as the passenger princess

Lee Chaeryeong as party girl 1

Shin Yuna as party girl 2

dedicated to everyone who read Punch It and demanded a book afterwards. it's never gonna happen, but the flattery stayed with me.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #skz #picu #lee know fanfic #lee minho fic #lee know #lee minho #lee minho fanfiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids ff #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #Spotify

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lostonehero · 4 months

Text

More YouTube scooped Micheal

This is how I cope being broke and people telling me to save money I can't afford to save

I swear I didn't mean to take this seriously

Micheal adjusts the camera and takes a breath for lungs he no longer has. It's barely been an hour since he dragged his father to his uncle's place, and after Jeremy made sure his uncle wasn't dying he decided to do a livestream because he had to confirm he wasn't going crazy.

"What is that?" William was sat in the backyard still wet from Henry spraying him with the hose. It didn't help with the musty smell but got rid of the dirt and grime. It also set off a few springlocks, which made him scream in pain.

Micheal sighs it sounds like a whistle since Jeremy hasn't fixed the stitches around his mouth. "It's a phone."

"That's not a phone." Willaim shakes himself off like a dog.

"It is a phone, and it's recording live for an audience." Micheal steps aside as his father moves closer to the small device.

"Like a camera?" William tilted his head. "That's impossible."

Micheal pushes his father back. "Don't break my phone. You're also still wet." He turns back to the camera. "Look, I know this is strange, and you don't know who this guy is, but I need to compose my sanity. This is a springlock suit that my dead father is in. He thought it was 1987 literally less than an hour ago."

"Why are you talking to it? I don't believe that is recording, let alone fliming like a newscast." William tries to shake off more water, but it doesn't do much, but make metal clanking noises.

"This is why I'm happier being a living corpse than being stuck in a machine." Micheal responds dryly. "Father, wait here. I'm going to get my laptop.... uh computer so I can read the live chat."

"A computer? Micheal, they aren't portable, let alone connected to anything that can transport information unless you have a wall of a machine." William tries to shout after Micheal, but he disappeared inside where he couldn't follow. He falls and sits back to the ground.

Henry comes out and chuckles softly, slowly coming into the frame of the livestream. "Ah, I didn't know Micheal started a stream, explains why he rushed inside." He hums. "Sit William, I'm going to see if I can replace that voice chip with something modern."

William watches Henry approach him. "When did you start needing a cane?"

"Ten years back, my hip started to act up. The cane helps me get to places without needing help." Henry pushes up what was left of the semi rotten fabric, and with soft rusted clicks, he pulls back the springs and locks in the head and neck. "I must admit seeing bone is refreshing compared to what your son has. I found a dead mouse in his thigh trying to help him clean himself up."

"A dead mouse?" William's voice glitches as the rusted and cracked voice box is removed.

"Yes, a dead mouse. Probably died from the chemicals Micheal used to stop the rotting." Henry pauses, taking out a screwdriver and a small blowtorch. "I apologize, old friend, if this hurts, but I need to get this in place, and it's been ages since I've worked on something... this old."

After a moment, a yelp and a much clearer British voice breaks through. "Henry, that's enough it feels like you're choking me."

"Hard to choke someone who is just a skeleton in a broken springlock suit." Henry brushes the rust and oil off his hands. "Now you sound better." He turns around. "Oh Micheal, when did you get back out here?"

"20 minutes ago." Micheal stretches. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, I'm fine." Henry smiles. "As I said earlier, it's refreshing to just see bones, then uh, something rotten." He unwinds the springs and returns the rotten fabric. "I can't do anything about the fabric. You were always so much better at the fabric and costumes than I was."

William allows Henry to step back before he stands up. "I'm just a pile of bones then." He pauses. "I'm sure most of it is crushed from the screws in the springs. I understand why you aren't shocked seeing the state of my son... is Evan like this?"

"Yes!" Jeremy interrupts. "Granted, I don't know where he went, but he's the reason I got my frontal lobe bitten off." He chuckles. "Mr. Emily couldn't exactly stop the moving around of assets during the 80s, and currently, we are on a mission to find all of them. Like you, they have a habit of moving around."

"How are you alive? Also, who are you?" William cautiously steps forward.

"I'm fucking your son." Jeremy has a shit eating grin on his face.

"JEREMY!" Micheal covers his face, and William notices he's now almost entirely covered up. "We are not. I don't even have a dick anymore. However, we are dating."

"I always knew you were a queer." William hums. "Although you have a weird choice of partner, he does have brain damage."

"Wait, you knew? Wait fuck doesn't matter." Micheal groans. "We dated before he got brain damage, and he's a nurse now."

"Kind of late for that, Micheal." William crossed his arms.

Jeremy starts to cackle.

Henry snickers.

Micheal groans louder. "Shut up the both of you."

Jeremy takes a deep breath. "I'm actually a fully trained doctor, but the brain damage kept me from actually becoming a doctor. Anyway, we did meet before you became a skeleton in a furry wet dream. Micheal and I went to high school together. I was that transfer kid."

"Oh, I can recall that. Things really blured together between the things that have happened." William shifts, staring down at Jeremy. "Why did you call me furry? Most of the fabric on me is ruined and surely not soft."

"Don't you fucking dare!" Micheal huffs pulling Jeremy back who had started to laugh again. "This was a fucking terrible idea."

"Micheal David Afton, watch your language. I don't care how old you are." William huffs.

"Wait, your middle name is David?" Jeremy stops laughing staring at Micheal.

"Yes." Micheal rubs his temples. "That isn't important. This was a mistake. I'm going to turn off the stream."

Henry holds up his hand. "Could you wait, Micheal? I would like William to answer some questions, and I'm sure your audience would like to know why you haven't set him on fire."

Micheal frowns but nods. "O-ok but nothing inappropriate."

Henry nods. "Go inside, Micheal. I can handle this. I told you I'm handy with electronics." He waves his cane. "That means you too, Jeremy."

.......

William sat back down in the grass. "So what Micheal said was true, people are watching through that... uh phone?"

Henry nods, pushing a chair in front of William. "Yes, technology has come quite far since we were kids."

"Why aren't you mad at me? Why haven't you tried to destroy me? Henry, I ruined your life." William seems to sink deeper into himself.

"Well, for one, I don't think you killed Charlie. You hurt her, but she did tell me she was breathing after you stumbled away to throw up." Henry puts his cane to his side as he sits. "And two Micheal told me Clara drank herself to death, and we both know that woman never touched a drop of alcohol in her life."

......

Micheal stared at the chat that was blowing up. His viewer count nearly tripled in the past 10 minutes. "I know I'm not listening in, but what do you think they are talking about."

"I think Henry may have confessed to your father, I mean, what else could the chat mean by plot twist." Jeremy sips on his water.

"That would be nice. I don't want Uncle Henry to have any regrets." Micheal hums. "Now the chats repeating conspiracy over and over."

"Ooo, maybe they are laughing about the myths from fazebear entertainment. I know you both get heated over the weird conspiracy people make." Jeremy hums. "Oh, they went back to plot twist... and huh, a few are asking about your siblings."

"We haven't found them." Micheal sighs. "I want to see them to just apologize, and...." He stares at the computer. "What the fuck does.... I'm going out there."

.......

"As I was saying, I could build you a new body, but I don't know if you could latch on." Henry stops. "Oh Micheal, what's wrong?"

"What are you two doing? The chat is going crazy." Micheal runs his gloves hands through his hair.

"Ah, I forgot the stream was on." Henry chuckles. "Ah, I'm just asking your father if I could build him a new body."

"I would like to fit in doorways again." William hums. "Also, I wonder if that would make the pain stop. Micheal, are you in pain all the time?"

Micheal sighs and rubs his arm. "I get phantom sensations, but I mostly lost my sense of touch. You did say you were in pain, but you still feel the springlocks?"

"The pain hasn't stopped since it happened." William shrugs. "I've mostly gotten used to it, and I deserve it for the kids I hurt. That's probably why I thought I was in hell. I don't sleep either. Why did you mention something about it not being night?"

Henry clears his throat. "The other kids stuck in animontrics, they are only active at night. I can only speak to Charlie at night. Oh, right, I haven't told you Charlie's in the puppet, and that's in my basement."

"I would like to apologize, but I don't fit inside any doorframe in your home." Willaim taps against his metal frame. "I uh, well could I stay in your shed? Anything wet makes the pain worse, and I don't want to risk rain. The hose was bad enough."

"Explains the screaming." Micheal mumbles.

"Yeah, I don't use that old shed anymore. I've got my own workshop." Henry smiles. "I think you should turn off your stream, Micheal."

Micheal nods and collects his phone, turning off the livestream. "Are you alright?"

"I do feel better." Henry smiles. "I'm about to get an earful from my sister any moment, though."

"Didn't know Jennifer was still alive." William huffs.

"She is, and she will be visiting." Henry hums.

"Oh joy...." William sighs, and Micheal knew he would be rolling his eyes if he could.

......

William pauses and looks over to his son. He isn't used to seeing him older, let alone a corspe. He wasn't much better. He was a pile of bones stuck in a golden Bonnie costume. "Micheal?"

Micheal looks up from his laptop. "What is it?"

"What have I missed? Henry and I have talked after your video, but I still haven't talked to you." William shifts trying to make himself smaller in the cramped shed.

Micheal shuts his laptop. He turned his attention outside to the pouring rain. They were both stuck in the shed. He was protecting himself from mold, and his father was trying to avoid more pain. He felt awful that his father was in constant pain even if he was just bones. "I don't sleep anymore, and besides using my chest cavity as a pocket, nothing much has changed. I work for Uncle Henry, I got back with Jeremy, and I uh stuck to my skills with crafts and drawings. I apologize for throwing you into a live stream. It's become a way for me to process major events or emotions since I can't really see a therapist. Well, I can, but I don't want to bother Gareth."

"I didn't know Jennifer's son became a psychologist." William sighs it's like a raspy wheeze. "How do you cope with this? I don't feel as if I'm just bones. I still am in pain all the time, but I've gotten used to it. Can you still feel?"

Micheal shrugs. "Kind of? Everything is muted. Phantom sensations are the majority of what I feel, oddly however everything I use to fix myself will turn purple even if it's a different color. I don't know. I don't understand how I'm still around, but you are in the same position as I am. I honestly don't know how I can still talk so well. My tongue rotted off ages ago. This thing is a piece of leather I added texture to."

If William could make a face, he would make one of horror. "Micheal, I'm sorry. I don't know who wrote you that letter to go, but I'm sorry. You don't deserve to be wrapped up in this, and you don't deserve to be like this."

Micheal gives a hollow laugh. "I deserve this, I'm the reason Evan never grew up. I was supposed to protect him, and instead, I got him killed. I know I should stop blaming myself, but I can't help it. I know I was just 13, but still, he had a better chance at life than I ever did, and so did Lizzie. I haven't really accomplished anything, I'm just trying to set them free, and even then, I really suck at it."

William places a heavy hand on Micheal's shoulder. "Micheal, that's enough. It's not healthy for either of us to dwell on what could have been. I regret my actions heavily, and well, if I could, I would have chosen my first option, then the second. Suicide would beat this outcome. At least in hell I won't be cold."

Micheal frowns and pulls his knees to his chest after he puts his laptop to the side. "I know Lizzie was your favorite out of all of us, and Evan was a close second. I don't blame you for leaving when I was the only one left."

"You're wrong." William pauses and internally cringes hearing stitching snap from Micheal. "Does that hurt?"

"Not really, but Jeremy will be mad. He appointed himself to fix me. He really doesn't have to waste his time on me." Micheal sighs, hugging his knees. "Uncle Henry tries, but he's getting older and refuses to finally rest, and he can't handle to care for me. Neither of them will let me try to finally end it with fire. I don't know why I stay around. It's not like I'm good for anything but rotting."

William, without a word and knocking over shelves, picks up his son. He holds him against his large frame, hoping the rotted fabric is enough comfort.

....

"Mr. Emily said, "You both are still in here." Jeremy opens the shed door. "The storm ended hours ago. Well, it ended yesterday, but who's keeping track?" He stops staring at both pairs of glowing eyes. "I'll get your glue gun. Mr. Afton, you have to be careful. Micheal is quite fragile even if he doesn't feel it, which makes it more dangerous."

Micheal blinks and finally moves his laptop aside and sees bones poking out from his chest and legs. "Shit, I have to restitch that."

William adjusts himself that Micheal slides off of him. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Father, I told you I don't really feel anything anymore. However, this will need more than hot glue." Micheal stands up, and his bones in his leg seem to click back in place. "Huh, that's a new noise. Anyway, it's not important, I'll fix myself up, and you can help me make a video on the immortal and the restless. You have like 40 years to catch up on I only gave you the basics."

"Oh, ew, you still watch that soap opera." Jeremy raised his brow.

"Of course I do." Micheal huffs, trying to walk forward his knees go backward, and he falls on his face. "Ok I may of fucked myself up more then I thought."

"I'll get Mr. Emily." Jeremy sighs. "I would say that he shouldn't lift anything heavy, but he's got bigger muscles than my skull."

William helps pull Micheal back to his feet and waits until Jeremy has gotten out of earshot. "Micheal, how long have you've been falling apart?"

"I've been slacking, but it corrects itself after I put fishing wire in my bones. I just thought that since I have a lot of flesh left on my legs, I could wait. I'm wrong, which isn't surprising. My broken legs never healed from the scooping incident, and Ennard filling in my insides, obviously breaking bone to fit." Micheal sighs. "Don't tell Uncle Henry about earlier, please. He doesn't have to worry about me."

"As your father, you know I can't do that, but I suppose I can wait till you're inside with Jeremy."

"Fine." Micheal huffs.

"Also, we aren't done talking about your mental health." William pulls Micheal higher, and his legs dangle, which is impressive since he is 6ft 3 inches.

"Then you have to tell me what you talked about with Uncle Henry on my live stream." Micheal sighs.

"I can do that." William hums softly. "You're quite light."

"Father, I'm quite literally skin and bone." Micheal rolls his eyes even if nobody could tell.

.....

"Hey, I know it's been what like two months since my last video that I've been in." Micheal sighs his leathery purple rot seems to be smoother and more put together he still looks like a corpse, but it's better than before.

Micheal stands up, showing off his new robotic legs. "Uncle Henry and father had to build me new legs. My bones are still in there, but it's mostly mechanical now. Turns out the damage from ennard breaking my bones was way worse than I imagined, and it only took one tight hug to completely ruin them for good. I honestly wouldn't mind a wheelchair but Uncle Henry insisted, and to be honest, he is building an entire replica of me basically with synthetic flesh and everything. I can't exactly stop him, but I don't know if I'll take it. However, oddly enough, I can feel again in my legs, at least. It's really weird, but I'm not opposed to it, and Jeremy has been having run testing it out."

Micheal sits back down. "Soon, maybe you'll see me as I was when I was alive, probably. Uncle Henry is doing the same for my father, but they aren't a couple yet. I'll do another livestream soon to really get into the nitty gritty, but I didn't want to worry anyone on why I haven't been in videos. Also, I'm not dead in any way that truly matters."

A person clearing their voice is heard before Jeremy comes into view. "Ignore his depressive episode we're working on that. Besides, he can feel on his legs now, which is fun. I can't wait till..." He is cut off as the video is ended.

.......

Henry hums, retracting his measuring tape. "So you're actually supposed to be 6ft 6 inches, which is fine. I just have to adjust some measurements. Your spine got pretty compressed, and a few are pulverized, hence why you lost height."

"Can I get up now?" Micheal sighs, laying on the table.

"Not quite. My I haven't been this excited for a project since I built the puppet for Charlie." Henry hums. "How are the new legs treating you?"

"They're fine. I'm trying to get used to feeling things again, but it's alright. I'm happy my bones are still being used in a sense, even if it's just for my sanity. I should thank my father for the final push." Micheal smiles softly. "Promise you aren't listening to Jeremy about the other parts."

"Micheal, he's a medical professional." Henry sighs, helping Micheal turn to be on his back. "Also, just because I'm good with machines doesn't mean I'm good with biology. You have the right to feel normal even if you're not comfortable talking about the finer details."

Micheal frowns and looks away. "I know I just. Uncle Henry, you're like my second dad, and I don't think you would want to speak to your father about things like this."

Henry pauses, scratching his beard. "I wouldn't actually know about that. I never knew my father. Jen taught me the important stuff, and I filled in the blanks with experience."

"I.... fuck that explains a lot actually." Micheal sighs at his uncle's confused expression. "Never mind, but you should help my father first. I don't exactly understand how or why you both are back on best terms, but he's the one stuck in the spring lock suit and is in constant pain."

"He insited I help you first." Henry smiles. "You can sit up now. I actually wanted to start with Charlie, but she threw a tantrum when I suggested taking her out of the puppet. I tried to reason with her, but I made the puppet for her, and she likes to be tall."

Micheal chuckles. "Glad to know she hasn't changed much. She's as stubborn as I remember."

Henry smiles brightly. "I suppose she does get that from me, but still, I would like to spend time with her without the need of videos. Maybe I can just install a voice box." He hums. "No, I have to focus you first then, Charlie, since I don't know how to fix your father. Once you get a working body, you're going to help me dismantle that spring lock suit."

"Alright, I'm fine with that. I do have a request." Micheal hugs his chest. "Can you make my hair long?"

"Of course I can." Henry chuckles. "I remember how you had it as a teen."

....

"Henry, you should be asleep." William was crouched down in a corner of the shed staring at his old friend.

"I'm not tired." Henry says, yawning.

"Henry, you're one of the few of us who can still sleep. Don't waste it." William tilts his head as Henry approaches him. "What are you doing?"

"I have to test this." Henry peels the rotten fabric away and then starts to remove the plating, and finally, he unscrew the spring locks.

"Test what?" William's voice glitches and gives silent suddenly.

Henry holds his old friends skull in his hands as the suit falls back motionless. "Fascinating." He holds the skull up to his face. "I wonder if this will work." He gets out of the shed skull under his arm. "Now I apologize William, I can not hear you if you are coming with me, but you did want to talk to Charlie, and I won't have you wreck my home trying to get inside the basement. I took the liberty of setting up a camera and recording a video to review what is said. Don't worry, I won't let Micheal watch unless you ok it." He sighs as he heads inside and down the stairs. "Micheal's with Jeremy at the hospital helping out the kids. He's become sort of an icon for the kids, and he's helping today with the many who are getting prosthetic limbs. Ah, right, you don't know about the hospital stuff. You can ask Micheal about it when I put you back. Now Charlie, be nice to your uncle he's a skull at the moment, but he does want to talk to you. I'll be upstairs and please use the radio I gave you if you want to talk. I'm old, my darling, and I can't rush back and forth from the stairs as often as you like." He places the skull down next to the puppet box. "Goodnight, both of you."

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #micheal afton #henry emily #william afton #michael afton #jeremy fritzgerald #charlie emily

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wordywarriorwrites · 11 months

Text

Calendar Girl - June

Series Masterlist: Calendar Girl Joel Miller Masterlist Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months. Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of rape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap.

June

Nightmares plagued him.

Played non-stop in his head, like a macabre movie that presented the highlights of his worst fears, biggest mistakes, and deepest regrets. Sarah. Tess. Ellie. Their faces were featured all too frequently in an endless loop of horror and heartbreak. Most nights, he’d wake up in a cold sweat and shake it off.

On the nights he couldn’t? A copious amount of booze usually did the trick.

But then, the dreams of you – once a blissful respite – had also morphed into night terrors.

You – tortured or dead at the hands of a QZ guard, bandits, or Fireflies. You – beaten and raped by Wesley. You – bloodied, broken, and lifeless in his arms. In his nightmares, Joel failed to protect you, and the pervasive helplessness paralyzed him until he’d wake himself up screaming, often with Ellie at his bedside, looking as terrified as he felt.

Then, he started sleepwalking.

He’d come to one night in the foyer – propped up against the front door fully dressed, with no recollection of having gotten out of bed. Another night, Joel had woken up outside Ellie’s room, stood like a sentry just beyond the threshold. When he returned to consciousness on your back porch, with a stolen gun from the armory across his lap, he knew he’d fucked up. The idea that he’d jeopardized your safety, that he could’ve hurt you, Ellie, or some innocent bystander – that had kept him out of bed entirely.

Just past sunrise, on day three of no sleep. He’d been at the barn for a few hours already when his little brother decided to pester him.

“You’re wound tighter than an eight-day clock,” Tommy observed, head tilted curiously. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Joel grunted and kept on shoveling the shit pile in front of him, “M’fine.”

Tommy lifted his hat and ran a hand through his hair, “You sure? Haven’t seen you at mess in a couple weeks. Hank says you’ve been doin’ double-duty here, and I found out this morning you’ve signed up for night patrols?”

“Just makin’ myself useful,” he insisted.

“Look, Joel, I’m not trying to mother hen you,” Tommy replied as he shuffled his feet. “But you look like shit. And you don’t need more work – in fact, I think you need a break.”

Joel jerked his chin up, “You ain’t my keeper, Tommy. And you sure as hell ain’t the one to tell me what I do or don’t need. So, just mind your fuckin’ business, alright?”

Tommy snapped. He snapped back. They both shouted about forbidden topics and things best left unsaid. Harsh words turned into flying fists that attracted a crowd of onlookers. Joel had been running on fumes, but still managed to put his little brother flat on his ass more than once. Tommy – younger and a bit less sleep deprived – had always been a scrapper, and popped back up on his feet each time like a damn clown bop bag.

Joel reared his fist back, “Self-righteous-dickhead!”

Tommy ducked, “Stubborn-fuckin’-asshole!”

Blood flowed from Joel’s mouth and nose, and his knuckles screamed in protest with every hit that connected. A cut above Tommy’s eye trickled down his cheek, and even his sloppiest swings managed to land and hurt like hell. The number of spectators grew and got louder – as if the fight was for their entertainment and not something to be concerned about.

It ended when someone broke through the throng and sprayed them with ice-cold water from the very same hose Joel had used to fill the troughs not ten minutes before the brawl had started. Ellie had doused them, and after he and Tommy were separated, Joel noticed she hadn’t arrived alone. You, a few other town leaders, and a very harried Maria, with a yowling toddler on her hip, had flanked her. After the mob had quieted down and been dispersed, an explanation was demanded of them.

Tommy shrugged and shook his head, “Just a disagreement.”

“Brothers fight sometimes,” Joel volunteered just as nonchalantly.

Maria scoffed and stomped away. The other leaders followed. Tommy trailed after them. Ellie seemed both bemused and mollified, and after she turned off the hose, she gave a thumbs-up and declared she was headed back to bed.

You – all bleary-eyed, in your raggedy pajamas and unlaced boots, sporting some serious bedhead. You hadn’t said anything – just rubbed your eyes and motioned for him to follow you, and he did without hesitation or backtalk. It wasn’t until Joel was hunched over your kitchen table, a glass of preferred numbing juice in hand, that you finally spoke.

“Eat,” you grumbled as you placed a plateful of food down in front of him. “All of it.”

Chicken sandwich. Homemade chips. Fresh apple. It had all gone down like sandpaper, but it filled his too-long empty stomach, and he supposed that was good enough. When he finished, you put the plate in the sink and jerked your thumb toward the stairs. Joel limped along, with you right behind him, and you herded him into the bathroom for a long overdue shower. He emerged ten minutes later – stench-and-blood free, with a towel cinched tight around his waist. You muffled a yawn, pointed to a bedroom across the hall, and he knew by the state of the rumpled sheets that it was your bed he was being directed to get into.

You kicked off your boots. Closed the curtains. Shut the door. Climbed in and patted the space next to you, and if he’d been in any other state of mind, he would’ve balked. He also had plenty of reasons to be wary – his sour mood, the nightmares, his nakedness. You’d ensconced him in your home, and though he’d willingly and silently obeyed your every reasonable request, it somehow felt as if he’d been put in some sort of timeout.

Joel should’ve been insulted. Pissed off. But the room was quiet and dark, the pillows and blankets smelled like you, and when you tucked yourself up against his back and made him the little spoon, he just fucking caved and melted into the mattress.

“Don’t deserve you,” he slurred.

You kissed the nape of his neck, “Ya’ got that right.”

No chastisement. No questions. Just your soft voice and gentle touch. Joel closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he discovered he hadn’t moved an inch, and his stiff muscles indicated he’d gotten quite a bit of uninterrupted shuteye. He rolled onto his back and there you were – aglow in the lamplight and sat up against the headboard with your nose in a book.

“Time is it?” he rasped as he stretched.

You glanced up from the page, “Late.”

“Ellie?”

“At Maria and Tommy’s. She’ll stay with them while you stay here for a few days.”

Joel acknowledged your answer with a squeeze of your knee. He had no doubt that you’d run interference for him with Tommy, Maria, and the other town leaders. He also bet you’d cajoled an undoubtedly disagreeable Ellie into staying at their place simply for his peace of mind. He wanted to thank you for everything, but you spoke up before he could.

“So, I hear you’ve been dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight?”

He chuckled lowly and stared at the ceiling, “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

You closed your book and placed your hand on his chest, “Look, I know you’re not one for talking about how you feel –”

“That’s for damn sure.”

“But short of tying you to the bed –”

“Ooo, kinky.”

You laughed and whacked him on the chest, “Seriously, Joel.”

He grunted. Threw an arm around your waist. You let out one of your infamous, long-suffering sighs and changed the subject. You asked him if he was hungry, and when Joel petulantly answered, “yeah,” you snorted, and offered to make him something.

He burrowed his face against your stomach, “Just wanna hold you.”

“Alright, ya’ big baby,” you muttered playfully.

You shifted, and Joel cracked an eye open to watch you place your book on the nightstand. Once you got comfortable, he rested his head on your chest, and soaked up the warmth of your touch as it moved along his head, neck, and shoulders. You both hummed at the exact, same time, and when you giggled, he grinned, and squeezed you tighter.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you whispered. “No pressure. No judgment.”

Joel nodded slightly, “I know.”

A stretch of contented silence. His uninjured hand, unable or unwilling to remain idle, moved all on its own. Delved beneath your shirt and cupped your breasts. Mapped your waist and hip. Spanned the plush flesh of your tummy. Roamed over the outside of your thigh. Strayed and squeezed and caressed aimlessly until you whimpered and breathed his name.

“Please,” you begged lowly. “Please, don’t stop this time.”

Joel propped himself up on his elbow and grasped your chin, “I won’t.”

He pressed his mouth to yours. Parted your lips with his own. Deepened the kiss and tugged your lower lip with his teeth. The threadbare elastic of your pajama pants was a godsend – it gave way easily to his impatience – and it wasn’t until he shoved them and your underwear past your knees that he slowed down and searched your eyes.

“Show me, sweetheart,” he murmured, mouth pressed tight to your ear. “Show me how you like to be touched.”

You let out a ragged breath. Guided his unworthy hand between your legs. Dipped his fingers into your arousal, and then, maneuvered them up to your clit. Soft and slow at first, and then, firm, until your hips moved in tandem. Joel was so fucking turned on by the sound of your pleasure that his cock dripped onto the sheet like a leaky faucet. You eventually directed his fingers down, and Joel watched as they disappeared inside of you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned as you rocked yourself against his hand. “I could come right now just lookin’ at you. God damn.”

You moaned. Kicked your pants away. Spread your thighs wider and took his fingers to the second knuckle. A steady, in-and-out glide, and Joel followed your lead – swiped his thumb over your clit and brushed his fingertips against the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you that made all those soft noises you’d expelled morph into telling cries.

Joel licked into your slack mouth, “Feel good?”

You nodded frantically, “M’gonna come.”

“Look at me, sweetheart. Show me your eyes.”

Half-mast and pupils blown – you looked at him beneath your lashes as you fluttered and clenched. Joel encouraged you as you reached your peak. Soothed you as you came down from the high. He’d always found you breathtaking, but post-orgasm? You stunned him, and he stared at you in wonder as he slipped his fingers from you and sucked them into his mouth.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he growled.

You cursed. Pushed him onto his back. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, and he felt so fucking alive as he watched you peel your shirt over your head and straddle his waist.

“I want you, Joel,” you insisted.

Joel sat up and grasped the back of your neck, “You got me, sweetheart.”

You took him in hand. Guided him inside. Joel had fantasized endlessly about what it would be like to finally have you, just like this, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the reality of it.

His face, cradled in your hands. Your eyes, bright and focused on his. The roll-and-sway of your hips and the tight, wet clutch of your sex, and the way you twined your arms around him so possessively. You made love to him as if he weren’t some broken, old man, and that was it.

He was yours.

Chapter 08: June - Part 2

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fic #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fan fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #wordywarriorwrites #calendar girl #pedrostories

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

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congratulations on 300 💕

i’m picking a fluffy thot 🦦 (i can’t tell if this is the right emoji cause i’m wearing contacts and i am not used to them) lmao

frank being a dad 🥹

omg rhi my darling my dear the fact that you’re my first ask for this is so PERFECT ♥️

did this get away from me a little? the answer is yes. am I made about it? the answer is NO.

apple pie life - frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, allusions to the trauma of frank castle’s life, tooth-rotting fluff

✨kay’s 300 follower celebration!✨

The summer air is thick, filled with the joyful shouts of Leo and Zach, Frank’s fake growls as he chases them around the Lieberman’s backyard with the hose in his hand, spraying the kids with ice-cold water to help beat the heat. David stands at the barbecue, half-hearted hey!s thrown across the grass when the water gets a little close to the food, but you and Sarah just laugh from your spots beneath the large umbrella, lemonades in hand and legs stretched out on the lounge chairs.

It’s been a perfect afternoon. There’d been footballs thrown around, Leo had insisted on painting your toenails a very summery shade of pink, and David had put a cold drink in your hand the moment you’d stepped onto the deck. Frank had gone straight to the kids, stripping down to his swim trunks and cannonballing into the pool without a second thought. You’d gotten a dripping kiss when he gotten out briefly, hours later, shaking his hair like a dog and spraying you with droplets.

“He looks good,” Sarah says to you, leaning towards you almost conspiratorially. “Happy.”

You nod, making a little humming noise. “He is. We are, I think.”

She eyes you, one brow raising. She points at your drink. “You need something a little stronger in that lemonade?”

“No,” you say, far too quickly, and press your lips together. “I…can’t.”

Her other brow shoots up, both lifting towards her hairline. “You’re—”

“Don’t!” you say, grabbing her forearm and squeezing lightly. “I haven’t…” Your trail off, jutting your chin towards Frank, who’s now got Leo on his shoulders in the pool, the pair of them playing catch with Zach as he runs around the pool’s edge.

“He doesn’t know?” Sarah asks, incredulous.

“I don’t know how to tell him!” you admit, dropping your voice even lower. You clear your throat; you can already feel the tears climbing your spine, wet and hot in your eyes. And it only gets worse when your eyes land on him on the other side of the backyard, laughing and smiling and carrying on. Damn these hormones. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Oh, honey,” Sarah whispers, reaching over and taking your hands in hers. “You’ll figure it out, I promise. And he…” She glances over at Frank, having the time of his life with her kids. He must feel your gazes on him, because he turns and waves, winking at you when you smile back. Sarah squeezes your hand. “He’s gonna be thrilled.”

It’s cheesy, is what it is, and you know it. But the timing was too perfect to pass up.

Father’s Day is a week after your barbecue at the Lieberman’s, and Sarah texts you nonstop from the moment you leave the house. You’re happy to have someone who knows, someone who’s been through what you’re about to go through, but really, you just want to talk to Frank about it, to tell him what’s coming. Through the week, it feels impossible. You go to open your mouth in the middle of dinner, but stop; the timing isn’t right.

You know what the day usually means to him. It’s hard, and you’ve seen it since you two became the two of you. Memories lurking beneath the surface of his handsome face, he’s always unusually quiet, sleeping most of the day away and asking you to stay close, because, “I just need you, sweetheart. That’s all.”

You’ve talked about kids once or twice, the conversations usually spurred by alcohol and grumbled wanna put a baby in yous. Frank wasn’t opposed, per se, there was just the weight of the past that he carried with him, and that would take time to work through. But you helped, he claimed. You always helped.

Woken by your morning sickness — something you’re shocked Frank hasn’t noticed yet, what with the sometimes sprinting to the bathroom first thing — you mill about the kitchen for a while, making yourself a cup of tea to soothe your stomach, a fresh pot of coffee for Frank. You wait a while, see if he’s going to make an appearance outside of the bedroom today, and when he doesn’t, you fill the mug, drop the single sugar cube in just like he likes it, and walk back upstairs.

He’s still asleep, when you walk in, his now longer hair sticking up all over, thick arms bunched around the pillow beneath his head. You perch on the edge of the bed, setting his coffee carefully on the nightstand. He groans when you put a hand on his back, pressing into his muscle, seeking out the knots and soothing them away with your fingers.

The groan tapers into a whine when you pull away, reaching for his shoulder. “Hey, don’t stop.”

“Brought you coffee,” you say simply, tugging until he rolls onto his side, facing you. “You should drink it while it’s still hot.”

Those thick brows pull down on his forehead, and he just stares at you for a moment. You watch, staring right back, your gazes locked before his wanders away, landing on the coffee mug sitting on his nightstand. You hear his sharp inhale, your eyes still glued to his face, as he reaches for the mug.

World’s Best Dad.

There are tears in his eyes, and it makes your heart ache, but he reaches for you, one hand curling around your leg, squeezing your thigh. “You’re always gonna be their dad, Frank,” you murmur, covering his hand with yours, rubbing your palm over his knuckles. “Always. But now…” You swallow hard. “Now you’re gonna be somebody else’s dad too.”

He just stares up at you, those big dark eyes wet and sparkling. “You’re…?”

“Pregnant,” you finish, nodding furiously, feeling the tears falling from your own eyes. “I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you sooner, I just—”

He’s up in a flash, putting the mug back on the nightstand, taking your face in his big hands, swiping the tears from your cheeks. “Baby, stop, no, no apologies. You’re not, this is…” He shakes his head, a broad grin spreading across his face and he leans his forehead against yours, absolutely beaming. “We’re gonna have a baby.” He kisses you softly, thumbs still swiping your cheeks, smiling into the kiss, gathering you closer. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

“She looks like you.”

From his place at the window, Frank’s head turns, the sunlight pouring through the window catching ever so nicely on his features, the tips of his reddening ears and the perfect bump to his nose. You love that nose. You watch as a slow smile weaves its way across his face, pulling at those unfairly full lips of his, his eyes squinting down at the sleeping baby in his arms as he rocks her, holding her in the crook of one arm, his other hand stroking her tiny cheek.

“Dunno,” he replies, cocking his head to the side. “She got your nose, thank God.”

“Hey,” you chide, adjusting yourself on the bed. “I like your nose.”

Frank scoffs, moving from the window, coming to sit at the edge of the bed. You’re struck by the parallel, how you’d perched on the edge of your bed at home some six months ago, a personalized coffee mug in hand, telling him you were expecting the tiny human now in his arms. How things have changed.

“She’s so tiny,” he whispers, and you reach out, running a gentle finger over the downy hair swirled on her small head. It’s dark, just like Frank’s, and you wonder if she’ll have his dark eyes too. “I forgot,” he continues, and your hand reaches up now, cupping his cheek, “how little they are.” He leans into your touch, gaze still trained on the baby. “You did so good, baby. She’s perfect.”

Tiny eyes blink open, peering up at her dad, and your heart clenches. Frank beams again, his free hand reaching for her miniature one, a quiet gasp when she wraps the tiniest fingers around his pinky. You lean up, wincing slightly, resting your head on Frank’s shoulder. Your daughter blinks between the two of you. “You see your mama, huh, sweetheart?” Frank coos, and you have to stifle your giggle at his high-pitched tone. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything!” you laugh, lifting your jaw to kiss his cheek. “I have to say though, she definitely got something from you, Castle.”

“What’s that?”

“Your big-ass head.”

“Hey!” he laughs, turning to kiss your forehead. “You love my big-ass head.”

“I do,” you admit. “I really do.”

—————

frank castle tags: @moonlarking @mindidjarin @freshabogados @steadyasthe-flowers @whosfrankie @ancientbeing10 @currentobsessionrabbithole @grounderprincesslookspissed

#kay’s 300 follower celebration #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle au #jon bernthal #the punisher #the punisher smut #my fics #the punisher au #frank castle fluff

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wickedlysecret · 2 months

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(I just had an idea for an interaction between Hunter and Camila while the TOH kids are trapped in the human realm together, and I ended up cranking this out yesterday afternoon. I just have a lot of feelings about Hunter and Luz as family, and Camila loving these kids who fell into her lap.....)

....

Luz was hooking the hose up to a garden sprinkler in the yard, animatedly chattering about the concept of “playing in the sprinkler”, and how it wasn’t just a garden tool, as Willow, Gus, and Amity listened with rapt attention, and Vee chimed in with her own newly-gained knowledge. Hunter, meanwhile, stood in the doorway, watching from afar. Observing.

Guarding….

“It’s so nice to see Luz like this again,” came Camila’s voice from behind him. Had it been anyone other than Luz’s mom, he might’ve jumped, but Hunter had long since adapted to the woman’s constant, caring presence.

“I’m sure you missed her while she was in the Demon Realm, yeah,” Hunter agreed, nodding absently.

“I mean, yes, I certainly did, but… well, that’s not quite what I meant.”

Hunter blinked, then finally turned to gaze with confusion at Camila, wordlessly prompting her to continue. She hadn’t looked at him yet, her eyes locked on her daughter and her friends, a fond, wistful smile curving her lips.

“Before Manny passed, she could always be this bright at home with us. Our little light,” she chuckled. “I know she struggled to make friends at school, but always kept her head up. After her dad left us, though… I think it got harder for her to stay afloat. I saw her sinking before my eyes, and I didn’t know what to do. She retreated into all the things her father and I loved, and loved about her, but that… that I knew would make her life harder.”

Camila sighed, shutting her eyes as she slumped against the other side of the door frame. “That’s why I signed her up for that camp. I’m glad I have both my kids now, of course, and I wouldn’t change that outcome for anything. But I wish I’d better understood what Luz needed. Even now, I’m not quite sure what it is she needs, other than that she found it in all of you.”

Hunter watched Camila, then turned back to look at the scene in front of them; Luz had powered on the hose, and revealed the sprinkler to be broken, presumably from age and lack of use. It now sputtered and gushed water all over the teens in the yard, prompting squeals and laughter as Luz weaponized the spray to soak her friends and herself alike.

“I don’t think she knows what she wants or needs, herself,” he admitted softly. “I… I don’t think I really knew how much she’d struggled before she came to the Isles. She always seemed like she knew what she was doing, like she was flourishing. It… it didn’t occur to me that she’d ever been… not like that.”

Camila opened her eyes again, turning her gentle smile to Hunter. “That’s how it goes, baby. You meet someone, enter each others’ lives, and you never get to see their before, only their after. You only see what they show you, unless you reeeally go looking.”

Hunter breathed a laugh, still watching Luz. “Luz is really good at that. At looking past what you try to show her.”

“She really is, isn’t she?” The pride warming Camila’s eyes as she watched her daughter was tangible. “It’s probably why she’s good at hiding what she doesn’t want others to see. I’m glad she has all of you to keep that in check, for her. I’m learning that there’s only so much a mother can do for her children.”

Then Hunter did jump, startled as Camila slapped a hand against his back and urged him into the yard. “And what I’m learning I can do for you, baby, is reminding you that it’s summer and your job right now is to have fun. So go have fun with your friends!” A touch of mischief flashes through her eyes. “If you pinch the hose, it’ll stop the water. She’ll probably look at the sprinkler before the hose, and you’ll be able to soak her if you let it go.”

#the owl house #toh hunter #toh camila #toh luz #(background but still)#drabble #emily writes

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werdlewrites · 9 months

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The Season of the Witch: Allumage

Chapter thirty-three: Playing the Hero

masterlist-about-ao3

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summary: “I’m a piece of shit, I got that. Loud and clear. I came here to apologize t’you - t’Nancy, which,” another scoff with hands held out to her, frantic in their motions before settling. “What a surprise t’me. But whatever her and I are dealing with, is between us. I’ve been living with it, and maybe someday she’ll hear me out. But right now, for her sake, she needs someone that knows what the fuck they're doing.” warnings: wc: 3,513

It’s the summer of nineteen-seventy-five - the sun high in the sky with few clouds to drown out its light. People flee from their homes to enjoy the cooling winds, fresh air to fill their lungs as spring carries away its storms and heaviness. It’s made way for brilliance - the sun kissing flesh as bodies lay out on soft sand, robbing them of moisture as sweat drips from their fingertips. Others find this opportunity to dress for the wilderness, hiking through trails built from tall trees and the flourishing brush. Enjoying the life mother nature gifted - before retreating to the security of tents as exhaustion took over. Children were more lively than ever. The final bell of school ringing to set them free from obligations - worries tossed to the side as they explored life with their friends. Biking down new paths to take in its mystery, playing marco polo at the community pool until their parents called it quits. Maybe they were in backyards to enjoy the quiet together, on the verge of disruption as a glare shoots across the way, a warning that goes unheard. “Don’t you dare, Steve.”

Autumn stares down the barrel of a kinked hose, wound tight in a small fist with a spare thumb resting just over the nozzle. She can hear the churn of water flowing, filling the tube with overwhelming pressure with a few leaks pushing past his skin. Despite her tone, the boy is all smiles. Watching as his friend slowly eases her way back - gaining some distance between the two and the threat in his hands. “What’s the matter? Afraid of water?” There’s a long pause shared - worried eyes darting from the weapon to his face, looking for a telling sign to say he was only joking. That he’d turn the water off to let her bask in the heat. “N-no,” is the girl's hesitant reply, finding something unsettling bubble up inside as his expression becomes more pleased, blissful of what was to come. “Good,” is all he offers, before moving his thumb to hover over a small amount of the opening, turning free flowing water into a gun he aims her way. The peaceful yard is suddenly filled with a scream of terror - running from the offender as the spray acts as nails against her skin. Sharp and embedding. And beneath the chaos, there’s laughter. Feet crash against soaked grass as Steve chases after the victim, arms extended for more reach and successfully soaking her back - then her face as she turns to fend the boy off. There’s a struggle at the center of madness - child sized hands pushing and pulling, digging between fingers until the hose is freed from his grip, and she’s exacting revenge. “How do you like it?” she shouts back, loud enough to drown out his shocking cry now that the warm water has become cold. “I surrender!” “What? I can’t really hear you,” she calls out, pressing the fountain to the back of his head to let it saturate once softly curled hair. He says nothing, only reaching for the attachment to begin a small tug of war, taking turns at tilting it to the other party.

Suddenly, it all comes to a stop. The spray of water dwindles between the pair until it becomes nothing, leaving their feet bare and buried in the muck of wet earth. “Steve?” His mother is calling from the backdoor, drawing attention from the two children as their laughter dissipates. “Could you come here please?” The distance between them is too great for his mother to see the roll of his eyes, the clear irritation. “Sorry,” he grumbles, hesitantly leaving the girl behind with a now empty hose as he jogs across the dampened grass, breaths heaving as he stands beneath his mother. “What?” He practically spits over the threshold, eyeing her through fallen strands of hair to lay in his face. Tanned skin is littered with goosebumps as the chilled air from within spills out in a delicate touch.

His mother shifts in place, ignoring his playful yet annoyed tone for interrupting his joy beneath the sun. “I’m making sandwiches, and I wanted to know if you two wanted some?” At the mention of food, the boy's attitude changes like the flip of a switch. Honey eyes are beaming and his mouth hangs agape with surprise and elation. This reaction is enough to provide an answer - a smile on her face as she pulls back to disappear within the house, hands now busy with extra food for her son and his guest. Though his head pushes through the opening, calling out to her as water drips down onto the tile. “No mustard on hers!” There’s an echo of her acknowledgement, deep and distant inside the home, and he takes it with a satisfied smile as he pulls back from the shadows. The boy is shaking his head like an animal, releasing droplets of water to scatter, evaporating on the hot pavement under his feet. “Mom’s making us food,” he calls out, fingers running through heavy strands to push back the curtain to lay over his gaze. “I told her-” there’s a pause once his vision clears, taking note of Autumn on the far end of his yard with the hose long forgotten in her grip, laid out in the mud. She’s steady, back facing him no matter how many times he calls her name - growing closer with every step he takes with caution. The girl is locked on something he cannot see - something buried within the treeline. Had an animal appeared in the depths? Holding her curious gaze as they tried to understand one another. He worries he’ll scare away the wildlife, breaking the connection and suffer her wrath as she whines and stomps her feet. But he’s there, just at her back. Scanning through the world beyond them and there’s nothing - not even a small squirrel digging up the dirt.

“Hey,” his voice is soft, filled with kindness as his fingers just ghost over her arm, but she’s still stuck - unmoving and unreactive to his presence. “What are we lookin’ at?” he questions, before moving to her side with a squint in his eye - seeing only brush before he turns to his friend. Skin pales as blood flow ceases to a shaken halt, shock striking him with all of its venom. She’s looking beyond him - far through the trees with a hazed look in once innocent and sweet eyes. Lids are heavy, nearly on the verge of sleep as steady breaths pass through lips to lull her into a safe embrace. But danger comes - blood just barely creeping into visibility, forcing Steve to break through the shackles of fear that hold him back. “Aut? Talk to-” There’s a tender touch to the child’s arm, a silent prayer that this had been some cruel joke - that she would jump at him, and he’d storm off in anger before accepting her apology as she pouts. But the connection sends her deeper down, eyes widening as if nightmares danced for her alone. Once calm breaths become stuck in her throat, chest heaving as it fights to push past the barrier - seeking relief from sudden strangulation. Hands are gripping at her, desperation to keep her close - to keep Autumn from fading away. “Hey, hey! You’re okay! You’re okay, I-I’ve got you!” There’s nothing given back in return, only the continued fight for survival and he risks all by letting her go, steps flying across the grass as he calls for his mother. The sound of her surrender draws his attention back - a collapsed body imprinted in his memory for all of time. “Mom, help!”

His knees are aching, pressed deep into the carpet of the Byers home with a familiar weight in tightly wound arms. Autumn lays limp in his hold, head fallen back with the sight of crimson staining the inside of her nose. The chaos she found herself within had all suddenly gone quiet the moment she closed her eyes, though panic and worrisome questions filled the emptiness at his back. “Oh my god,” Nancy whimpers behind a delicate hand, concealing the look of horror to grace precious features. Jonathan is quick to the other boy's side, kneeling with hands hovering in thin air, unsure of what to do and how to help. “What happened? Is-is she okay?” Steve spares the other a look, though it goes unnoticed. He’s full of fear - an expression that reminded him too much of his younger self when he thought the girl had died all those years ago. It’s a telling sign to suggest Jonathan’s never experienced something like this, and while Steve is the more calm out of the trio, his chest is still heaving and a heart racing within it. He’s seen it all - but never a display quite like that.

He adjusts on the floor, shifting her weight so she leans closer into his chest, a spare hand moving to lay flat against her neck - where her pulse beats strongly against his skin. “She’s okay,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Just-just fainted, is all.” “That doesn’t sound okay,” Nancy chimes in from the distance, earning a brief glance over his shoulder to soak in the terror swimming through her eyes. Steve offers a small shrug, face twisted up as he’s unsure of what to say - how to explain it all and if it was his story to even tell. “Here, let me-” Jonathan is inching closer, gaining more security on his legs as he reaches for the back of her shoulders, seeking to assist in carrying her. The brunette thinks nothing of his actions, shifting her body once more until she’s secured against him, arms spread out beneath her for a better hold. “S’okay, man. I’ve got her.” There’s minimal stress as he contorts from the awkward angle, standing strong on two feet with the girl dead weight in his hold. He moves with confidence, like this had come second nature - like he had been here before. And despite the efforts made to help Autumn, Jonathan still holds an uncertain glare as Steve walks right by him, laying the girl out beneath the Christmas lights strung up above the couch. “How can I help?” Nancy’s voice is close, hovering just at her partner's back to assess the situation, hand resting just over her chest to ease a panicked heart. “Uh,” an exhausted breath flies through closed lips, looking out down the hallway into the dim kitchen. “Uh-anything cold, really. Ice? Something.” The girl works quickly - practically running off into the other room in search of aid, leaving Steve to lift Autumn’s knees with a pillow rested just beneath them. Unaware of the gaze still at his back.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” Jonathan mutters just under a breath, earning a curious look from the brunette at her side, still checking her heartbeat through a small touch. “Yeah,” the acknowledgement falls in a heavy sigh, continuing to tuck her into better comforts for when eyes open again. “I thought it had gotten better, honestly.” The boy wants to question - wants to pry, lips parting to let the curiosities come forward but is silenced by Nancy’s presence, a watered down plastic bag in hand as well as frozen vegetables. Something Autumn had more than likely brought with her hours ago. The items are offered out, and her boyfriend is moving with care and haste as the vegetables lay nestled up against the sleeping girl’s neck, an ice cube plucked from a pool and pressed to the inside of her wrist. The standing pair share a brief look, the silence broken as Jonathan steps forward. “What’re you doing?” “Cooling her down,” his response is blunt, matter-of-fact, attention focused on his long lost someone, though curious eyes burn into him. And while Jonathan remains oblivious, still seeking answers, Wheeler is more left in awe at the confession - Steve was falling behind in class, yet knew enough to help a fallen girl. “You’re using her pulse points,” it’s not a question, more of a realization made outloud. “How-how’d you know to do that?” A small smile is seen on the freckled boy, crooked and full of amusement at the idea of her surprise. To find flunking Steve actually wasn’t entirely useless, all looks and lips. “You play enough games in the summer, you gotta learn how t’keep cool.”

There’s a long silence between them all, attention focused on the gentle breaths to fill her chest and the twitch of her brow - something to say she was still there, yet far from their reach, captive in her own mind. But in this calm, there’s an uneasiness in Jonathan - watching Steve’s sudden care for someone he lost. Reaching out in vulnerable times in hopes for forgiveness under great distress. So words fall to the carpet, disguised by a feigned confidence as he moves in closer. “Look, I appreciate what you did,” he begins, watching unassuming eyes move his way, forcing him to pause in his approach. “But, I can take over from here. I’m sure your parents-'' Steve lets a small chuckle break through, silencing Jonathan on the spot. “My dad’s an asshole. He’s mad no matter what I’m doin’.” Round and round the ice moves, never lingering too long for fear of pain, no matter if his own fingers burned from the intense temperature. He’s in another world - another time, back to when they were younger, to when they were friends. Taking action when no one else was around to help, yet now dismissing it when it’s offered. And the uneasiness builds, taking the shape of anger as Jonathan’s fist ball up at his sides. “You don’t get t’do this.” Again, kind brown eyes look up in confusion, brow knitted together in confusion before it all spills over the dam. “You don’t get t’just come in and play the hero, hoping it makes everything better.” “What?” The ice is forgotten, held in a fallen grip as his gaze turns towards more disbelief, unsettled by his accusation. “You treated her like shit-'' Steve groans in response, the roll of his eyes evident as he pushes himself up to stand against a force now working against him. “You weren’t there for her.” Arms cross over his gray sweatshirt, a shield against a boy that was only trying to defend Autumn’s honor with hostile words, and it pushes the brunette closer to the edge. Ignoring the cold chill that spilled from his palm, trickling down into his sleeve. “Are we really gonna do this?”

The other teen stands firm, lips pulled to a thin line with a crinkle in his nose, his stare full of the anger he’s consumed from Autumn, listening to her tale of their departure and the constant ache it brought. But Steve doesn’t falter, a fire sparking to tear all down with its fury. “I was there! I was there before you.” A scoff passes through, tongue quick to wet dry lips before his focus is back on Jonathan. “You didn’t even know this shit happened,” he takes a wide swing, arm gesturing out to the still sleeping girl, undisturbed by radiating heat in the small room. “I’m a piece of shit, I got that. Loud and clear. I came here to apologize t’you - t’Nancy, which,” another scoff with hands held out to her, frantic in their motions before settling. “What a surprise t’me. But whatever her and I are dealing with, is between us. I’ve been living with it, and maybe someday she’ll hear me out. But right now, for her sake, she needs someone that knows what the fuck they're doing.”

All falls into silence, eerie as the only company they keep is the sound of a distant clock ticking. Another second of Will being out of reach. Another minute of lying in wait, hoping a monster didn’t plan out its revenge if it had survived. Another hour of an unknown fate for the Police Chief and Jonathan’s mother, walking amongst evil. Steve wants to fall to his knees and grovel, crawl through the wreckage and pray for forgiveness. Instead, he shares an uneasy glance between the two, before taking his place just at Autumn’s side, the cube now melted down to the size of a pebble. Nancy is the first to act, retreating down the hallway without a word - without acknowledging him and for a brief moment, the freckled boy thinks it’s over. From breaking the camera, all the way up to this moment. But she’s quick, moving back out into the light, passing Jonathan to instead kneel within inches of her boyfriend. She plucks another chunk of ice from the messy bag, folding it up in a thin cloth before slipping it into his palm in exchange for the smaller piece. A sweet smile shines beneath the grim situation, helping to curl his fingers over the no longer burning ice. “For your fingers,” she states, earning a lopsided grin from the boy. “Thank you.”

Jonathan begrudgingly lets the subject fall into the background, keeping lips tightly sealed with thoughts pushed to the furthest corner of his mind as he picks and carries the destruction of his home. The bear trap is gone, set down in a box along with everything else they brought for a trap. But it all remains closeby, just in case a familiar face comes back into the light. Glass is picked up with care, solemn eyes occasionally drifting to the couple or to Nancy when she allows herself a moment alone. Wondering if she so easily forgave Steve, or if she simply needed time to process the loss of Barb. Finding her strength in the shadows before reappearing with a gentle smile. This peace is only short-lived in the Byers home, the front door opening quickly enough to cast a breeze across their startled faces, eyes cast towards the frantic man lingering at the threshold. “I told you t’stay, kid,” Hopper mutters, irritation in his tone and tightness in his jaw. But Jonathan pays it all no mind, rushing toward him to peer around his taller figure in hopes to see his mother, yet there’s only darkness. “Where is she? Where’s my mom?” he nearly shouts, dismissing large hands held out to ease down the rising flames. “She’s fine. Your mom’s safe.” “Where?” the boy snaps, eyes locked on his new target no matter the difference in size, no matter the threat he could carry. “With your brother.” The confession is enough to douse embers, his chest filling with the smoke he expels in a questioning breath, “What?” Hands fall to the boy's shoulders, keeping him steady and bracing for the impact of his next few words. It all sounds so simple, sparing the boy grim tales of all he had seen in the darkness. “They’re at the hospital, okay? Everyone’s fine.” Jonathan can hardly process - mouth hung agape in shock, almost disbelieving the pain they’ve suffered was a tragic memory to never recall. Hopper adjusts his jacket, moving past the Byers boy to inspect the damage done - and the other occupants that stood like a deer in headlights, or a child caught where no trespassers were allowed. “I’m just playing chauffeur. What are you doin’ here?” he questions, chin held out in gesture towards Steve - clearly hiding something at his back. “Oh, y’know, just..hanging out.” The Chief tilts his head, a concerned gaze now honed in on a pair of dirtied boots, worn with time just poking out from behind the boy. Boots he’s seen kicked up on his dashboard after offering the girl a ride to school. “Move,” he demands, yet doesn’t give them time to process as he’s barreling forward, pushing the teenagers aside to take in the sight of Autumn Reid, unresponsive. “She’s fine! She’s fine, she just-” “Faints, apparently,” Nancy interrupts, her own eyes moving between the man that hovers over, and the girl he studies with worry.

Ian had claimed she was sick, and with threat lingering at his back he didn’t press on the matter then. Only making mental notes for safe keeping. Seeing her this way deepens the pool of wonder, of curiosities. Like Steve, a tender touch is laid to her neck, unable to hold back the sigh of relief to feel just how strong she was despite it all. So he ignores the chatter of teenagers, folding himself over to rest a hand under her knees, the other squeezing her shoulder to lift and carry. Their voices fall into silence, watching in awe and confusion as he moves with ease towards the front door - barely across the threshold before turning back to the group with annoyance already bubbling up in his chest. “Well? What are you waiting for? Let’s go! Move it!”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #jim hopper #stranger things ff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington angst

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jurassicsickfics · 1 year

Note

This isn't for any specific fic but poly sick dynamics have me😍🥰💖✨💓💫

Especially when there's multiple caretaker/sickie dynamics

One super squeamish one caretaker, one super tolerant one and one that's kinda I the middle. Also Bonus if one or more of the caretakers also get sick because they just tried to be there for sickie.

Sure thing! I hope you enjoy!

It was a hot summer day in Haddonfield. Laurie, Annie and Lynda had spent most of the day in Laurie's sizeable backyard. Lynda had gotten her fair share of sunbathing in; she had full intentions of showing off to Bob later. Annie had been counting the grasshoppers, and she kept remarking about how, "There's so many of them this year!". And Laurie had been going back and forth between the covered back porch and getting some tanning in as well. It had been a peaceful day, but, even through the summer bliss, all 3 of the girls had mentioned not feeling well at some point or another.

At one point, Lynda had sprayed herself down with the water hose, because her stomach started to cramp up and she assumed she was getting too hot. The water helped for a while, but, then the uncomfortable, bubbly feeling came back.

Meanwhile, Annie had been having an odd, tingly, butterflies feeling in her belly. She described it to Laurie as "feels like I'm nervous, but I'm not". The brunette had eventually chalked it up to her nerves trying to calm down after finals last week, not being in school did take some getting used to, after all.

And Laurie, well, she'd been having waves of nausea all day. She'd feel fine for a while but then a wave of queasiness would stop her in her tracks, for a minute or two, then go away. Being the most logical of the 3 teenagers, with every sickness wave her mind would flash back to the nasty stomach virus that was going around school the week before summer started. But, surely she'd have caught it before now...right?

As the sun started to set, the girls were sitting on the back porch nibbling a couple apples; it was Annie's idea, she'd heard somewhere that apples can settle your stomach. She'd only eaten a couple pieces before she just had to stop, her stomach suddenly felt really iffy.

"U-um...Laurie?" Annie squeaked.

Laurie looked up. "Yeah?" The blond answered.

Annie's face was flushed, with both sun and the urge to cry. This worried Annie herself; she wasn't usually a weepy person, but she felt really upset right now.

"I-I don't feel good..." she said, her breath hitching.

Laurie's eyes widened with concern, and Lynda was giving Annie a nervous look. Laurie pushed the plastic lawn chair back from the table and went over to Annie, feeling her forehead. "What's the matter? Did you get too much sun?" She asked, and the curly-haired teen shrugged, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

Laurie pulled Annie into a comforting hug, which Annie eagerly returned. She needed the comfort, and Laurie was just about the most comforting person she knew.

Lynda was nervously playing with her luxurious blond hair, her own stomach starting to turn, more with anxiety than anything. Lynda hated when people threw up; ever since she was a toddler, vomiting terrified her, whether it was herself or someone else. She wondered how on earth Laurie was so calm, and so readily getting that close to Annie who, frankly, looked to be seconds away from barfing.

Annie nuzzled her face into Laurie's chest, now starting to cry openly, her arm wrapped around her midsection.

"It's ok Annie, it's alright...deep breaths, ok?" Laurie comforted the smaller girl, patting her back. Annie was shaking now, her face now a slight shade of green. Lynda was ready to bolt, but, she resisted the urge. She wanted to be a good friend and be there for Annie, so she stayed put, but the fear in her eyes must've been more obvious than she thought, because Laurie gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Lyn, if you wanna go inside, we get it. We know this kinda thing bothers you." Laurie said. Lynda took Laurie up on her offer without hesitation and jumped up out of her seat, but before bolting through the sliding glass door she stopped and said, "anything I can bring you?"

Annie shook her head, "No, thanks, Lyn. I'll be alright..."

Lynda nodded, and disappeared inside. With that, Laurie crouched down in front of Annie, as she sat in the chair, and cupped her cheek in her hand. "Are you ok, Anne Marie?"

Annie shook her head, sniffling.

"Do you have to throw up?"

Annie nodded. Laurie was about to help her inside to the bathroom, but Annie's stomach had other plans, so she made a break for the grass and threw up into the lawn. Laurie cringed with sympathy and patted her friend on the back, holding her dark curly hair back.

As Laurie comforted the sick Annie, she felt her stomach flip too. At first, she thought she was just getting squeamish, but...no, she wasn't that sensitive to this sort of thing. She's a babysitter for Pete's sake, kids puke all the time, she's used to it. So, why did she feel sick?

Laurie's hand left Annie's back and rested on her own stomach instead, and Annie turned around when she felt the patting stop. She was about to whine for her to keep doing it, until she saw the blond holding her own stomach.

"What's wrong?" Annie asked, her voice weak and raspy.

"I...I don't think I feel good either..." Laurie said, trying to swallow down the hot feeling rising in her throat. Annie, fairly sure she was done, stood up straight and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. She gave Laurie a worried look, as the blond seemed to go pale before her eyes.

Before she knew it the rolls were reversed; Laurie was puking into the grass and Annie was holding her hair.

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry, Laur...did I make you squeamish?"

Laurie shook her head, coughing wetly.

"N-no...I think I'm sick too..." she answered between heaves.

About the time Laurie regained control of her body, she heard Lynda crying for her inside. She and Annie both bolted to check on her, and they found her hunched over a trashcan, also being sick...

"Oh Lyn.." Laurie crooned, pulling the cheerleader's hair back into a ponytail and rubbing soothing circles into her back. She was being especially soft with Lynda because she knew she had emetophobia, and needed more reassurance than most people would. Lynda was sobbing as she turned around and buried her face in Laurie's shoulder. Laurie returned the embrace, not even phased by the fact that Lynda had thrown up on her a little, apparently having misjudged whether or not she was done.

"I guess it wasn't too late to catch that stomach bug..." Laurie stated aloud. Annie nodded in pained agreement, before gagging and heaving into the trashcan.

Naturally, squeamish Lynda had her "puke button" pushed by Annie's vomiting, so she promptly emptied her stomach a second time down Laurie's front. Laurie's only reaction was simply to pat Lynda on the back, and croon comfortingly to her while also giving Annie a back rub.

A couple hours later, the girls were piled up in the livingroom. Annie lounged on the couch, watching TV. She'd whine about her stomach hurting occasionally but, other than that, this was just an excuse to be lazy to her.

Poor Lynda, on the other hand, was in the fetal position on the floor, hugging a bucket and crying. It'd been years since she'd felt this scared and upset, and she was so scared of throwing up and not being able to get the bucket in time that she refused to lie on the couch, in fear of making a mess. Her whole body was trembling and she panicked with every cramp and wave of nausea, and she flat out refused to try eating or drinking anything.

Laurie was the polar opposite of Lynda. She was the picture of calmness, sitting on the floor next to Lynda, rubbing her back and stomach while casually sipping some Ginger Ale. She'd taken the liberty to call both Annie and Lynda's parents to let them know the girls would be staying with her, as they didn't really feel like traveling, and she didn't mind caring for them a bit. She'd been tending to them both between her own bouts of sickness, which she treated like an everyday occurrence. Comforting Lynda, holding a bucket for Annie so she could hold her stomach, which was cramping something awful, checking temperatures, disinfecting and cleaning when she felt like it...Laurie was the definition of "the mom friend".

All 3 of the girls were glad that Laurie's parents were out of town. They didn't mind being sick in front of Laurie but if her parents would've been there, it would've been downright embarrassing.

"Laurie, can you rub my stomach?" Annie whimpered, curling into herself. Laurie smiled a bit. "Of course, your majesty. " she joked, standing up off the floor after giving Lynda a pat on the shoulder. She made her way to Annie and sat down beside her, slipping her hand underneath Annie's tank top and massaging her stomach. She smiled when she felt the smaller girl relax, and Annie let out a contented, "mmm..."

Lynda managed a smile through her tears. "You're gonna be such a good mom someday, Laurie." She said. Laurie smiled. "Aww, thanks Lyn. You are too."

By the time midnight rolled around, Annie was sleeping like a baby, and Laurie had carried her upstairs to her own bed after she'd fallen asleep on the couch. But Lynda was still nauseated, and therefore afraid to sleep.

"Laurie, if I throw up while I'm asleep I'll choke..." she cried, her hands pressed against her stomach.

"I'll give you an extra pillow so you're not lying flat. How would that be?"

Lynda shook her head. "No..no I can't..."

Laurie sighed. "Well, little miss Lynda, would it help if I hold you? I'll stay awake and make absolutely sure you don't choke." Laurie promised. She could see the little wheels turning in Lynda's mind as she contemplated that idea, and, finally, she nodded.

"O-ok...thanks Laur."

Laurie helped Lynda onto her lap as she reclined the loveseat. Lynda laid on her chest like a baby and Laurie covered them both with a fluffy blue blanket. With Laurie's back pats, and the sound of her heartbeat, Lynda was out like a light in minutes.

And that's how they spent the night. Three friends, sick as dogs but together and helping each other, now asleep. Well, except for Laurie. She'd kept her promise to Lynda that she'd stay awake. For some reason, the feeling of Lynda asleep on her chest, and the thought of Annie, safe and sound in her bed comforted Laurie. She laid her head back against the couch and, with a contented sigh, she whispered, "I'd do anything for you two."

#sickfic #tw emeto #vomit mention #annie brackett #laurie strode #lynda van der klok #halloween 1978 #stomach bug

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wimdchine · 6 months

Text

on a random day, with no particular significance, all traces of windchime had been gone from the house. everything except a locked notebook, and a key lying on top of it.

If one were to flip through the journal's pages, short sporadic entries filled up the otherwise white paper.

-----

The first entry seems to date back to before Windchime even met Midori.

Its so boring!! my friends haven't contacted me in ages so i'm stuck inside this stuffy house >:( it's only been a month and those fuckers are bored of me already?? seriously?? i need to find new people to talk to, what a pain.

It's okay, i can make new friends instead. i just have to be more interesting :)

-----

Mr. Midori's gotten super affectionate after i sprayed him with water,, what an oversight... If this is how easily someone can deter him then i'm quite worried about the future... I can't say the affection is quite bad though,, what the fuck am i writing NO. Do Not. Get. Feelings. N O.

-----

He, Moon, and Len got together!! I'm happy for them,, really. I don't really care much for what they do together anyways... as long as i can stay by his side, i think it'll be okay! he's still affectionate to me either way..!

is that even okay? i mean... i'm not gonna think too hard on this.

-----

i think i'll die if someone ever reads this, whether if it's a stranger or not but!! i love you, Midori!! there!! i wrote it down >_< it's so embarrassing to admit,, even on paper!!!

On another note, i started making a box..! it took a while to learn how,, but i think its coming together quite well :D

-----

Moon's talking about making a list of things Midori has to adhere to since he's quite,, "loving" to all the people in his house. i think it's stupid. i mean, the only thing that's gonna do is give you an easier way to count off the things he's been doing. like a bucket-list...

How possessive, maybe Moon's just insecure? He's so ordinary it hurts. Useless too, i mean...he doesn't even have a job, right? All Moon's doing is leeching off of him. How infuriating.

-----

He's gone. What am i supposed to do now? I spent all that time and now he's just...

It hurts so bad. It'll take a while to stop feeling like this again,, I'm so bored.

-----

Midori's back but he doesn't remember. What if they lie to him? What if they say that I did horrible horrible things to make him hate me? Is that possible? I hope anyone doesn't do that,, I think i'll actually die.

I can do that too, maybe... but i don't want to break everyone's trust. whether i like it or not, these idiots have endeared to me, annoying >:(

-----

It's not Midori, why did i ever think it was him in the first place? He lost his memory, of course he'd be different!! You're a fool, an idiot.

It doesn't matter anymore, I'll stay by his side until he recovers.

-----

I made Mr. Midori promise that I'll be the one to kill him. I don't want to but,, I didn't want anyone else to have the opportunity to do it, sorry other people!! I'm feeling a little greedy. They might fuck it up, or hell,, they might even enjoy it a little too much. I can only trust myself with this.

even if i don't want to kill him at all.

-----

Mr. Midori told me he liked me when I sprayed him with a hose. Did they not fix this bug yet? Still, I denied it. Even though i really want it to be true, you know? I kept thinking all day,, what if he got his memory back? Maybe some things about me lingered in him!! or something.

Who am i kidding, that's not gonna happen at all.

-----

the most recent entry.

Everyone else has somebody else.

It's all so unfair, i hate everyone in this godforsaken household. Maybe I should've left when i had the chance. everything just hurts so much.

I think it's time i leave this house.

-----

#🎐 // chiming in~!#i didn't want to waste it but at the same time i wrote these sleep deprived and haven't reread them so...#it's hard to consider it more than trash pfft #anyway. i tried. i hate wc so much

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nighmares-art-and-stories · 1 year

Text

Memoir - Elephant

This is an unexpected event. One that has taught me much about myself and the world around me.

I entered the grand gated zoo. It was one of the biggest zoos in all of China. Two majestic bronze tigers guarded the entrance. Each had a paw an embroidered silver ball. Their lips are pulled back in a roar as their sharp eyes gleamed yellow in the piercing sun. Impatient clouds danced across the sky. Fans posted on poles whirred angrily; the bee-like hum filling the air. My dad was with me at that time. The wind played with his almond-black hair as we walked.

“Squawk, Rerfff, Squawwk” The fiery sunset colored flamingos were yelling at each other, haggling over who has the best feathers and feed.

“Do you want to feed them?” The sound of my dad’s deep rumble startled me out of careful observations.

“Sure, why not?”

We quickly paid the money and went inside. The birds flapped their massive ruby colored wings in our faces and plunged their beaks in the cups that are filled with feed. Several more flamingos rushed at us and jumped on my dad’s arm. Beaks flashed as they ripped feathers from each other’s neck.

We walked and looked in the exhibits, the animals frolicked in the pools and chased the pigeons away from their food. Lions roared, and the prey animals crowded in a corner. Poor prey creatures, they are frightened by all the noise and the roaring lions. You could see that in their eyes.

Bikes zipped around and sang a robotic “twinkle-twinkle little star” every time someone was blocking their path. It was chaotic but at the same time very orderly. We walked our way to the elephant exhibit, dodging several bikes. This was very annoying; my dad yelled and waved his fist at a few people that didn’t put on the mechanical song. I couldn’t blame them. That mechanical song sounded like someone have messed with the radio so that instead of the normal songs and the news people talk, it sounds like two broken plates rubbing against each other.

I was being a complete nerd, lecturing about animals and their genus, habitats, and behavior. My dad listened quietly to my rambling and lecturing. His thoughts somewhere else in his mind. I can’t blame him; his job is quite energy-sapping.

The trees have cast the shadows on the sidewalk. Providing the much-needed relief to the scorching overhead sun. Birds chirped and hopped in the shadows of the trees. Peacocks strutted to the patches of sun and fanned out their massive tails. The catching the sun and spilling the light like green-gold diamonds

We walked to the elephant exhibit. Two elephants were playing in the mud; trees with spray hoses created a majestic waterfall. Several elephants were using their trunks to gather the water from the waterfall and drinking it. Around the corner, there are two elephants performing tricks. A large crowd is gathered around the performing elephants. One of them turned around and around in great circles; the other walked on its hind legs the trainer threw buckets and buckets of sliced apples, carrots, and other goods at them. They stopped to pick the treats up and walked away. Walking off the performing stage they went straight for the mud-pool and started to fling mud at the elephants under the mechanical waterfall. The mud splattered all over them, creating a gloopy brown and grey blob with small beady eyes. Everyone in the crowd laughed. The elephant then washed the mud off and charged at the elephants playing in the mud-pool. They flung mud everywhere and soon a full-blown mud-fight ensued.

We walked off at this point. Behind the mud-fighting elephants, there is a large petting place. There you can feed zebras, ride camels, pet ostriches and fish for goldfish and many more. At each exhibit, there is a long, complicated line of people at every event. All of the people there were craning their necks to see what was happening.

I saw the elephant ride and my eyes gleamed. An elephant ride. That will be quite interesting, I never rode an elephant before, except when I was 3 but that was a long time ago. My dad saw my eyes gleam at the elephant ride and asked,

“Do you want to ride the elephant?”

“Yep!”

I ran off to the ticket stand in the middle of the petting place; My dad jogging behind me.

“How much does riding the elephant cost?” I said when I reached the ticket stand.

“It costs 20 yuan.” The keeper replied cheerfully.

At this point, my dad ambled up next to me and gave the 20 yuan to the keeper.

We got the ticket and stepped in line. The excitement is contagious, soon I was jumping up and down like some over-excited toddler every time a lion roars or an ostrich booms at some zookeeper. The line got shorter and shorter I felt the impatience grow stronger and stronger until… it’s my turn!

I hopped to the stand and climbed on a peaceful-minded elephant. The thick hide is warm and gave off the sweet smell of lion-grass and fresh leaves. Its strong shoulders moved under my legs. We ambled across the muddy track there were carrots everywhere for the trainers have tossed them to the ground to encourage the elephant to move on. That’s a wonderful way to do that, these elephants will have to be starving if there aren’t any snacks. Plus, this brings some fun to the elephants who walk around the track so many times.

I looked around the place for a little bit. There is an artificial tree in the center of the enclosure. There are small black nubs that let out a hissing sound as it sprays a fine mist in the enclosure. My dad stands on the little photo-taking stand, a bright smile on his face as he snaps away; the camera flashing brilliant light.

The elephant ambled off the path to a drinking pool. It sucked in a trunk full of water and sprayed it all over me and its sides till we are dripping wet with water and some elephant boogers. Then it began to drink the water in the pool. That strong trunk rapidly sucked in water and sprayed it in his gaping mouth. In the time I took to say mouse, that elephant has gulped down three trunksful of water.

The elephant has finished and looked at me with its beady eyes as if saying “Are you ready?”

“Yep, I’m ready.”

That have gotten quite a few confused and weird looks from the people in the stands. After all, it’s not every day you hear some teenager talk to an elephant. The elephant once hearing that I was ready to move on started it’s way to the main path. In the corner of my eye, the elephant behind me charges and at the same time let out a loud, ground rumbling trumpet. Then without much warning, the elephant behind me charged. The elephant that I was riding sat on the ground and wouldn’t budge. Fear, like lightning, flooded through me. The people on the stands stepped back. Shock and anger flooded their eyes. My dad looked like he was about to jump into the enclosure to get me out of that fight. Dozens of trainers used dusty dusters and threw carrots as an attempt to distract the two elephants to stop fighting.

Somehow, despite the jostling, I’ve stayed on the elephant that I was riding. The elephant, clearly spooked by this attack has run on the track in wild stops and starts every time a trainer approaches. The eyes of the elephant buggy. Calming down, it has stopped and following the fluff-on-a-stick walked to the stand.

There my dad was waiting. He grabbed my arm and hauled me off of that elephant. He is shaking but it’s hard to tell. His eyes have given his worry, fear, and anger away though. He quickly patted my arms and legs to make sure that I haven’t somehow got bruised.

“I’m ok, Dad.”

“What if you aren’t.”

“Well, the what if didn’t happen, so stop worrying!”

We walked off. Even though the people in the stands saw that attack, they still continued to ride the elephants as if nothing had happened. Are they all mouse-brains? Still riding the elephants even after that attack? I half-expected them to all run to some other part of the zoo.

We walked on. My dad still fuming over the attack and how “irresponsible” the zookeepers are. We looked at some monkeys and birds. Eventually, we have walked out of the zoo.

Boy, that was one interesting day!

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@alaralee

#original story #memoir #creative content #writeblr #ao3 writer #original female character #orignial character #humans are deathworlders #earth is space australia

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