#and the most sinister for the poor ol' boots
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
nerdycolorcupcake · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
I've watched Puss in boots: The last wish today and man that movie slaps HARD
49 notes · View notes
g0r3rat · 3 years ago
Text
Hit and run (RZ Michael)
h[Michael’s s/o get’s cocky and gets him with the ol’ pillow attack]
Tumblr media
!!Gender-neutral pronouns are used in this scenario. If you would like a different version, send me an ask <3!!
---
>>You seriously think it’s a smart move to hit the Michael Myers; Haddonfields boogeyman? wow. You really must have a death wish.
>>Everything was planned out. You would hide just before Michael returns home, though it’s uncertain when he’ll come back. Sometimes he just randomly disappears for days at a time; returning home soaked in crimson, smelling like a dumpster fire. What a party animal.
>>Hiding behind a small Coraline door in the foyer. Unlike the movie, this door didn’t lead to some magical world; it instead was a mere crawl space that you dedicated to all of Michael’s cherished masks. You see, when you both chose to stick here, Michael brought his crafty demeanor with him. Which is lovely! but good god this man literally sits and makes masks all day. Gotta store his favorites somewhere safe.
>>Speaking of making masks, Michael actually dedicated a few to you, though don’t kill yourself trying to get him to admit it. He won’t. One time you both attempted to make masks together!! Obviously, Michael’s turned out perfect as usual; yours on the other hand.. yikes. Someone didn’t get locked in a mental ward for their whole life and spent time learning arts and crafts did they? for shame. No worries! Michael made it clear that yours sucked, so he fixed the shaping. Surely you can do a design. Michael made a clown one just for you, maybe it’s because he thinks you’re a complete clown and you need to accept it. Anyways.
-- Short fic below --
The clock ticked, and ticked... and fucking ticked. After awhile you grew tired. Eyes slowly growing heavy, the pillow you tucked against your chest didn’t aid your attention. Suddenly, the door swung open, heavy boots creaking the old cabin floors. “Shit..” you mumbled, eyes caked in sleep. Your evil, sinister, plan came to the forefront of your mind, shaking the tired itch from your shoulders. Gently, you pressed your ear against the thin door, hearing the soft grunt and pacing around the quaint cabin. Poor Michael was confused, but most importantly worried; he may be a dangerous man with almost no remorse for any living creature, but you’re the only thing that he couldn’t bring himself to hurt. What have you done to him? Crimson soaked fists clenched at his sides. You were fucking with him; he could smell your perfume.. the body wash you use every night. He definitely doesn’t use it. pfft.  His body remained still, expanding his senses. thump.. thump. While mister skilled, master, hunter was busy being super cocky, you managed to sneak out of the crawl space, tip toeing behind the large man. Raising your arms high above your head, you swung; coincidentally, Michael happened to turn at that exact moment; The pillow made contact with his exposed neck. You’re very lucky he didn’t have his prized jack-o-lantern mask on. I mean, you’re still fucked, but now less fucked. With wide eyes, you stared up at the man, mouth slightly ajar. You resembled a deer caught in head lights. Michael stood motionless, blue eyes peering down; the room became heavy. Almost too thick to breathe in. In a second split, the limp pillow was tore from your hands. Michael wasn’t mad, per say, but he definitely wasn’t amused. He could practically hear your heart pick up panicked rhythm; like when the prey acknowledges their fate against the big bad predator. Just like that, you were off. Running as far away from the giant as possible; golly, you’re quiet fast, but hun, Michael is much faster. He doesn’t run, oh no, he simply walks. Slowly calculating your every move. You attempted to duck behind the kitchen door, but you tripped your own feet. The cabin fell silent; the wind howled against the old cabin; windows whistling. Evening your breath, you listened closely. Where is he? After a few moments, you emerged from behind your hiding spot, quietly walking into the living area. He must have gotten bored. Your relief was short lived as the devil himself appeared from behind a corner, swinging the pillow with a fraction of his might; he wanted to get back at you, not kill you. Despite him going ‘easy’ on you, the hit threw your small frame back onto your ass harshly. “Ow! Michael.. I didn’t hit you that hard,” You whined, rubbing your ribs where the pillow made contact.
>>Michael didn’t apologize, of course. This man would rather shave his head than apologize. He’s stubborn. But he did feel a little guilty for hurting you.
>>As a way to make it up to you, he allowed you to have a piggy back ride through the woods on your daily walks. He even let you pull his hair back and brush it. Honestly, he just doesn’t want to hear you complain and whine about how he was too rough with the pillow. Secretly, he enjoys it. Yes, brush his hair more and mess with it. 
>>Even weeks later, he still crouches down to offer a piggy ride when you’re feeling down. Sometimes memories from the past bring you down, so he’ll offer any distraction to bring your smile back. You’re his entire focus when he isn’t terrorizing the village. 
>>Moral of this experience, don’t hit the boogeyman with a pillow or you’ll get your ass handed to you. But also, you gained piggy rides and the passage to spoil his glorious mane.
--
//Hope this was good!! I had this concept on my brain and this was really fun to write//
35 notes · View notes