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plutowatchesyou · 4 years

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who's kids? | stray kids chapter 1

a/n : Hello lovelies, wahhh I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the prologue(❁´◡`❁). Since I don't start school until next week I might be able to update a bit faster but don't quote me on that lmao, I am starting a new school so it might be a bit hard at the start but I will keep you guys posted! I love writing so if I'm not able to get a chapter out in time I'll at least try to get out little oneshots hear and there. Also, the member's hair colours are going to be from Gone Days (Woojin's hair is from the Double Knot comeback), anyways I'll stop boring you, enjoy!

prologue

genre : supernatural au, fluff, angst, doctor who au.

pairings : stray kids x reader

warnings : bullying, swearing, mild violence.

summary : y/n, though born with a gift, is lonely. She met a boy when she was young who promised to be her friend and then left her waiting for so long that she forgot him. But what happens when y/n can’t seem to get rid of these 9 attractive creeps outside her house.

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there you were again.

running.

they never seemed to leave you alone. You don't even know what the hell you did this time. School had just finished and as you were walking through the courtyard of the small school you were confronted by a group of delinquents.

"where do you think you're going freak?!" the leader spat at you.

"uhh, home? where else?"

yeah, you probably shouldn't have said. You watch as the kid’s face starts to change colour as his fists clenched.

"heh, you think you're so fucking smart eh? well, go on, run home, not like anyone is waiting for you." The leader's followers burst out laughing, hitting the guys back shouting "you got em'"

you didn't wanna deal with this shit anymore so you started to make your way onto the street, you were only a couple of steps away from the courtyard before you felt something hard hit your back. You stumbled a little and looked at the ground behind you,

it was a fucking rock.

And that's what brought you to the present, running from these idiots, trying to avoid the rocks and pebbles that have already started to leave new bruises. Your skin though soft was colourful with different shades of purple and brown. You had a couple of bandages on your knees, fingers and face, all colourful since your medicine cabinet at home only has multicoloured bandages.

As you were running down a particularly steep hill you slipped in some water, soaking your already ruined uniform.

"Is this town ever fucking dry? it never stops raining in this hellhole," you muttered bitterly as you saw a grey cloud beginning to form in the sky, a hard pebble to side snapped you back into reality and you looked back to see the 5 guys running down the hill. You let out a breath and started to run again.

you were reaching one the walls that surrounded the town and you tried to slide into an alleyway but was knocked into another dirty puddle.

"are you okay?"

before you could start to curse out whatever you bumped into you heard a calming male voice. You looked in front of you and saw a tall male around your age who had black hair and gorgeous features. 'since when did this town have a prince?' you thought.

he reached his hand out to you but you slapped it away, picking yourself up. making sure your satchel is secured on your person. As you looked at the male again you saw that he was not alone, there were about 5 other males behind him, all close in age and all very attractive.

One of them who had curly brown hair turned to you and his eyes widened.

"Hey, it's you!"

why was this young attractive man pointing at you? Oh god is he another bully? Frankly, you didn't want to find out since there were six tall males in front of you right now, all of their attention directed at you. So, without another thought you bolted, passing the pebble throwing idiots on your way.

after a couple twists and turns you jumped the village wall and took a breather. You then made your way to the abandoned playground.

"Dango! come here baby!" you called out to you friend.

Out came a big fluffy samoyed who ran towards you. Dango was your baby, even though he wasn't the size of a puppy anymore he would always be your baby.

"come on Dango, let's head home."

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It was starting to get dark and you sat in the kitchen with Dango by your feet. You were reading one of Oma Alice's books that were supposed to help you strengthen your "gift"

you let out a sigh and concentrated on the candle in front of you. You watch the once still flame start to dance, you let it grow bigger, shape itself into a little Pheonix. You smiled at your work, fire was always the hardest in your opinion, you were always scared to use it. Your concentration was broken by the alarming sound of loud knocking at the door.

You huffed as you watched the flame go out. "who the hell is at my door Dango." He just replied by sniffing your feet. You climbed over the table from your seat on the couch, yes you had a couch in the kitchen. You came to the entryway of the house, slipping on your slippers and pulling your hoddie closer to your body, no longer comforted by the warm house.

You opened the large door but kept all the latches attached so you could just peek outside. Your heart dropped as you saw the familiar faces of the attractive males from the alleyway, but now there was even more! 9 you could count.

"Uhm, what are you doing at my house?" you asked, not even trying to hide the bite of your tone.

The curly-haired male from before decided to speak up. "you don't remember me? I mean I know it's been a while but we made a promise to each other." His tone started to falter from its bright tone as he continued his sentence, it probably didn't help that you were giving him the stink eye the whole time.

"look dude I don't know you, so can you take your little gang and piss off" the male and his companions frowned a bit at your reply.

as you started to close the door mumbling "fucking weirdos" you missed the dejected look on the curly-haired boy. You made your way back to the kitchen only to close the large book and call Dango out from under the table, you weren't in the mood to practice anymore, the effects of the rocks starting to weigh you down.

You took a bath, you looked emotionless as you stared down at your body, the fresh scars and bruises on your legs and arms slightly stinging as you poked them. You got out of the bath and dried yourself off, applying new bandages here and there. After changing into a worn red jumper you made your way to your bedroom. Even though the house was huge and had multiple big bedrooms you only slept in a small dark room. It could just fit a double mattress on the floor and a cabinet that stored the small wardrobe you owned.

You collapsed onto the mattress face first, avoiding Dango how made himself comfortable at the end. You let out a sigh as you rolled over, placing your arm over your eyes. You felt miserable, but you didn't cry. You taught yourself to suppress your true emotions at a young age, only Oma Alice saw how you really felt, and even then you made sure your cries were silent every night. You knew you didn't belong, but for some reason, you couldn't leave.

You fell asleep without any thoughts in your mind.

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You sat in the garden, letting the butterflies fly around you. Dango was rolling in the grass and trying to chase bees. You had your eyes closed and were connecting with the earth, you loved nature, it came so easy to you, yeah water was fun and air was exhilarating, but earth kept you grounded, it was always your favourite and you could always be found in the garden making new flowers and taking care of older ones.

The garden was your safe haven, the only place you felt happy, where you felt at home. That is why you were quick to jump to your feet and ready to attack your intruders. You clenched your fist as the earth clenched around the males in your garden.

"Now you're stalking me?" you frowned crossing your arms over your chest. The 9 males were either looking at you in bewilderment or at their feet in annoyance. "Okay, why the fuck can't I move my feet?" A brunette in the back called out.

"Look y/n, I'm not trying to scare you but it's me."

"seriously Chan why are you still trying, are you sure she's even the same girl?" A male with light brown hair directed his comment to the curly-haired 'Chan'.

Before Chan could reply you spoke up. "Yeah you should listen to your friend, I don't know a Chan" you sent the males a scowl before releasing their feet, a couple of them falling to the ground as others stumbled. "Y/n please can you just try and rememb-" before Chan could get any closer to you you made a strong gush of wind push them away.

"Get the fuck away from me and my home!" you screamed, making the wind stronger, watching the males flee from your garden. You dropped to your knees, Dango coming to comfort you. Who are they, and why is this 'Chan' guy saying that he knows you, fucking creep.

You dragged your feet back into your the house, Maybe you could find answers somewhere in there.

you walked upstairs, looking at all the closed doors, you went to reach for a painted door, flowers were painted like they were bursting out from the room. You retracted your shaky hand and walked back downstairs. "Maybe the basement?" you made your way down the dusty steps and flicked on the light, you sighed pulling up your sleeves to start going through the boxes.

after hours of memories and mysteries, you are left with more questions than answers. You fell back on a pillow that somehow was down here. Dango was lying beside you. "I just want to have an answer, why can I never have an answer, I'm always plagued with questions but never given answers." After a few silent minutes, you shot up after hearing something hit the concrete ground with a loud crash.

You picked yourself up and made your way over to the mess. You shuffled through it, not finding anything that seemed to help you. You picked up a blue silk material and was met with shoes. your shoes, your red mary janes, not as shiny as you remembered but there they were. You picked them up and gasped.

“I-I uh, I like your shoes.” “you like them? my Oma got them for my birthday, aren’t they so pretty?”

you were hit with a wave of bittersweet memories, memories of Chris, memories of waiting, waiting for so long, for years, until you gave up and forgot. “see you soon Christopher”, how pathetic. You couldn't believe you trusted him, and you were so foolish to even start crushing on the boy you had only met once, How gross.

You let out a bitter laugh, "Chan, of fucking course". you got up and walked up the basement stairs calling Dango to follow. You put on sneakers and walked out the front door. You walked down the long driveway, Dango trotting beside you on the gravel. You reached the old medieval-looking gate and saw the nine males. You climbed the brick wall and dropped in front of Chan.

He looked at you and gave you a soft smile. You smiled back at him.

"Hey Chris"

"Hey y/n"

and then without a second thought, you punched him square in the jaw.

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Lucinda signing off

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copperstatestormchasing · 7 years

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Chase Log: May 7, 2016

I’m new to this whole Tumblr thing, so I figure I’ll open this blog with the story of the very first day of my very first plains chase.

70 KNOTS OF SHEAR INSANITY

It happened.

I lived my dreams and then some.

It was nothing short of the best time of my life. Corbin and Trey left about twelve hours before we did; once I left work, I picked up Christian and off we went. He took over driving and hauled ass to our first stop- Northeastern Colorado. It took fourteen hours total, no stops, but he did it. We switched places again at the state border and continued to our destination.

Once Christian and I arrived in Brush, CO- after scoring a speeding ticket, which I had budgeted for anyway because I’m an adult, plus Christian leaning over me to tell the cop “We’re heading to- ah, Bush” earning a “how high are you right now because that’s not a real place” glance from the officer- we caught up with Corbin and Trey, who were parked in a dirt lot behind an auto shop. We took a look at radar and models and decided that we were in good position for the day. It wasn’t too long until we were joined by several other chasers- a couple of local folks, and a duo of dudes that call themselves “Into the Meso”. We would end up meeting up with them several more times over the next few days, and they’re amazing people.

For a couple of hours, we hung out and chatted with the other chasers. We all theorized on what we were going to do for our next move; after a while, our gang decided to head toward a small town called Wray, in far Northeastern “I Can’t Believe it’s Not Nevada” Colorado. On the road, we spotted a young cell with some very low-hanging scud steadily moving up into the parent storm. It was attempting to form a wall cloud, so we hung around and waited to see if anything cool would happen.

Unfortunately, nothing came of it; the scud rose into the parent cloud and disappeared. The core was catching up to us, so we decided to move on. Corbin and Trey began packing up the Jeep and Christian and I began doing the same into my Sportage. The storm was approaching rapidly, and it took on a mildly ominous appearance.

“Hey,” Christian asked, patting his pockets, “Where are the keys?”

“I thought you had them.”

“No?”

We stared at each other for a moment, the hail beginning to come down and bouncing off the pavement. There’s a divine moment in the dawning realization that you’re not playing the stormy little leagues in Arizona anymore; it’s a moment concocted of both horror and amazement, a moment of understanding that should storm move into air with more optimal conditions, it would chew you up and spit you out. We looked at the approaching wall cloud, realizing the gravity of the potential situation.

Was it rotating? We couldn’t say because we were too busy tearing into my truck to find the goddamn keys. After a few tense minutes and Corbin asking me where I could have put them in five minutes, I found them in my camera bag.

We piled into our respective vehicles and headed east. We moved to a better place to watch the storm that we had just outrun by minutes.

We exited the vehicles again and Trey explained that this was probably going to get interesting in a few minutes. We hung out and talked for a while as the sky changed to a bright green-blue hue, the clouds rolling and boiling overhead. Suddenly, to our excitement, our phones chimed with a tornado warning. It was on.

Suddenly, we heard it- the sound of music. Sirens began to blare from the nearby town of Wray. I cannot describe the feeling when I heard them; I’ve had a fascination with them for my whole life. They’re the soundtrack of a successful chase day. To me, it was the sound of the gates opening, revealing the land of enlightenment I’d sought for my entire life. This was it.

Unfortunately, after a few minutes, the sirens shut off and nothing came of this particular moment. We moved on ever slightly and again stopped to watch a beautiful wall cloud with a very clear RFD cut cross the road. It just didn’t seem to want to get its act together, so we began looking for our next move. It wasn’t long until Christian noticed a newer, younger storm in the back of the line: Tail End Charlie sat there, with a beautifully sculpted base and distinctive lowering already forming. We made our move to it and waited.

That was when Corbin noticed it. “Tornado on the ground!” he called, pointing to… exactly where we just were. It was there, a dinky little funnel trying it’s hardest to stay on the ground. It whirled and corkscrewed, teasing the ground by lifting and touching down again, dancing like a ghost on the horizon.

We were several miles away. We had just missed it.

Corbin and Christian were disappointed. The verbal irritation with the situation was hard to ignore, but I didn’t mind so much. A tornado was a tornado, and this was so cool. The guys weren’t happy. We decided to stay and watch Tail End Charlie as the griping continued. As Charlie moved in closer, the chatter topic moved to the base of the storm, which was churning wildly. The clouds had a now-familiar blue hue to them, and we began theorizing where the tornado was going to drop. The furiously twisting clouds continued on for several minutes before it happened; it was something I’ll never forget for as long as I live. Very suddenly, there was a rush of humid, warm air flowing in from behind us. It was strong enough to pull me along on my feet, forcing me to walk forward. This lasted a few seconds until:

“Tornado on the ground! There it is!”

Sure as daylight, there it was- a small circulation had formed on the ground, kicking up dirt and dust. There was a considerable amount of celebrating, as this beauty was maybe a mile or two away this time. It didn’t bob and dawdle like the first one had- this one seemed to mean business, remaining in contact with the ground and gaining strength. The tornado continued to gain strength and speed, just we realized that it was coming right at us.

For those first few moments, we thought we were fine. It wasn’t going to hit us. But no, sure enough, the wind picked up in our area and we needed to go. Now.

We began to make a move back to our vehicles- except for Trey, who stood there challenging the tube like a meteorological David and Goliath. “Trey! It’s coming! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!!” I yelled as I made a beeline back toward the Sportage. I hopped inside and closed the door as Christian turned it around. The debris cloud was close now. The Sportage rocked back and forth, dust from the road in front of us beginning to be pulled into the vortex.

Christian pressed on the gas and we high-tailed it away from the whirling thing, dodging cars and random onlookers on the way out. We continued on for maybe another mile before we noticed that the tornado had lifted and was now only a small funnel hovering over the hills. We reassured ourselves that we were okay- until we realized again that we weren’t. The funnel wasn’t moving away from us anymore; it was about to pass over our heads.

This time, we had let it get too close. It had touched down again and was now doing considerable damage to the landscape. I’m pretty sure that I became terribly aware of this before Christian did because as we were leaving he asked excitedly: “Can I pull over?”

“No,” I said sternly as I watched the funnel increase in size yet again, twisted around in my front seat to watch it out of the rear window.

“Please??”

“NO,” I shouted, “GO!” It was very close now. It took up a significant portion of my rear view mirror and filled my side mirror. I’m assuming it was at this point that Christian looked for himself because from the driver’s side I heard “SHIT!” and the sound of the gas pedal being floored. In spite of this effort to gain speed and ground between us and the twister, we were only doing- maybe- forty. I picked up my phone once again and began to film.

“Oh my god.” It was very close now. The roar was now the only thing I could hear, except for the occasional swearing of my partner, who was no longer interested in pulling over. I wasn’t truly worried until I heard the fear in his voice. Nothing terribly significant- he wasn’t in utter terror yet, but he was definitely concerned.

“It’s right behind us! Fuck!” His tone in those five words were enough to make me realize that this could be a problem. A very real, very serious problem. Before my eyes, the funnel condensed, snaking to the earth and meeting the debris cloud in living color. It was the most spectacular thing I’ve ever witnessed. “Go, go, go, go, GO!” I shouted over the wind, knowing full well he had it floored and that this was as much as we were going to go.

We neared a corner and he took it, not anticipating that the tornado would curve slightly once more and again be heading in our direction, this time from the side. We raced up a hill, every foot and every second counting when we saw a farmhouse on the top.

The funnel had completely condensed and the entire tornado had become a stunningly sculpted thing of beauty; a ghostly figure shredding the hillside- and it was heading right for the house.

“Oh God, it’s gonna hit that house!” Christian yelled. “It’s gonna hit that house!”

“I know,” I said, leaning out of the window as far as gravity would allow and firing off several shots. I grimaced as the tornado made contact with the property, white particleboard and wood becoming airborne and assimilating into the debris cloud like disastrous confetti.

“No, no, no.” Christian slammed his palms into the steering wheel. “God damn it!”

I said nothing. I felt small and helpless. There was nothing anyone or anything could do. “Get those shots,” Christian said. “Just shoot.” I kept firing the shutter, getting photo after photo before I realized something.

Corbin’s headlights were behind us before, and now the only thing I saw in the rearview mirror was the tornado.

They were gone.

“Dude, Corbin and Trey are gone. They’re gone. I think they got hit.”

Christian glanced at me and then in the rearview. “No,” he said, “No no no. They got behind it, they had to have got behind it.”

Finally, we were far ahead of it enough to stop and assess the situation. We got out of the truck and watched in a stunned stupor as the monster tornado trekked across the dirt road and into a field, where it seemed to pause, having grown into a behemoth dirt eater and taken on an entirely new appearance; it was significantly more ominous than before. The rotation was incredible and the occluding process was blatantly obvious. A satellite funnel spun up beside it. This was a violent tornado.

As incredulous as I was, I felt sick. Where were Corbin and Trey?

“Dude. Dude! There they are!” Christian said, pointing up the road where the tornado had just crossed. Sure enough- there they were, in one piece and driving toward us. Chris and I shouted happy shouts of relief and high fived. The joy was short-lived, though, because as they rolled up, it became clear what needed to be done now. The dirt demon had wandered further into the field and was obviously weakening.

“We have to go back.”

Everyone agreed. Once there was structural damage, the chase was over. We needed to get to that farmhouse. We made our way back up the hill, avoiding downed power lines and approaching the front driveway of the property.

It had been decimated. Two propane tanks sat on their sides in different places of the yard, hissing loudly. They were both leaking, and any spark from the downed power lines would set off an explosion. The tornado continued to wander further away into open land, but the focus was not longer on it. I threw the truck door open and made a run for it up the hill as hard as I could. “Tori!”, Trey’s voice cut through the pounding in my ears and the hiss of the propane tanks, “Power lines!!”

I hopped over them, channeling my inner gazelle with an awareness of my own tunnel vision, up to the remains of the house. Three trucks were piled on top of one another, one of which still had headlights on. There was clothes and drywall scattered all over the yard. A rogue sheep dashed away from me. I approached the house just as the family who lived there emerged from their shelter. The first person out was a young woman, her disheveled hair in a ponytail. She covered her face when she saw the destruction. “Are you good? Is everyone alright?” I yelled over the wind, which had picked up again.

“Yes!” shouted the woman. It was then that I heard the guys yelling my name. I turned, now very much aware of the wind beginning to howl again and a very familiar pull to the air.

“Tori! Come on, it’s a hand off!” Christian screamed. He had stopped just short of the propane tanks and was waiting on a signal that it was okay. The wind was whistling so loudly that I could hardly hear him at the top of his lungs. I threw an “OK” gesture at him and began trying to run back down the hill, but it was as if I were running in place. The wind was amazingly strong and my heart began to race again. Was I going to die here today when a propane tank blew up after dodging a monster tornado, or maybe when a hand-off occurred and another spin up happened?

I was finally able to get some momentum and made it down the hill, where Corbin and Trey were already getting ready to leave. Christian caught up to me and we got into the truck and bailed as well, heading back up the dirt road the way we came. Corbin and Trey decided to drive ahead while Christian and I stayed back and waited for the authorities to clear the road in front of us. A tractor trailer had been tossed into the road and slightly bent like a toy. Tractors and farm equipment were dragged and thrown. We sat and pondered the reality of the day, absolutely in awe that what had happened had happened.

After some time taken to process, we joined Corbin and Trey at a gas station, where we used Corbin’s wifi to upload photos and videos to social media. I couldn’t believe the images I had captured.

Christian took the camera from my hands and stared at the images. “Are you serious, dude?” he breathed, “This is it. This is your shot.”

Corbin was monitoring Twitter after posting photos and video to it. It took a few moments, but then it began- the notifications kept on coming. They were going viral. “You need to get those photos online,” Christian said. “Just get them up. I promise you they’ll go insane.” For the first time in my life, I knew I had something special here. These were significant images. The best I’d ever taken. I did quick edits of both of them and put them on Twitter.

We decided that we’d drive to Garden City, Kansas and get some sleep. It had been an intense and beautiful day, and there were things to do tomorrow. It had been the most successful chase of all of our lives, and it was only day one.

“Dude! What did I say?” Christian said, showing me his Twitter feed on his phone. “Your pictures are going crazy.”

It was true. It had already been retweeted dozens of times and favorited countless more. I wouldn’t realize the full scope of it until the next day, but it was the very beginning of the biggest change in my life for the good.

And there were sixteen days left to go.

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