#t bird

[tbirdrider]

😳🤩😈

[diaryofawhoretbh]

off-limits. | kenickie murdoch

| wc: 1.1k | kenickie murdoch x zuko!reader

| warnings: none really.

| rewatched grease today after such a long time, and my crushes on kenickie and danny are so back!!

"she's off-limits. do anything with her, you're chopped liver."

that's what danny had said from the start. first day of summer. you were still brushing sand off your legs when he muttered it to kenickie, eyes narrowed, shoulders squared. protective big brother mode.

kenickie just smirked like he always did, flicking his cigarette to the side and saying, "relax, danny. ain't like i'm gonna propose." he had no idea how wrong he was. or maybe he did.

you weren't supposed to look at him like that. not with the soft, secret kind of gaze that made your breath catch in your throat. you weren't supposed to smile when he bumped your shoulder or stared too long when he thought no one would notice.

but you did. and he noticed, every time.

--

it started with glances.

in the hallways. across the lunchroom. when the t-birds were joking around, and you'd be walking by with your books clutched to your chest, you could feel his eyes follow you. like his gaze burned through the back of your blouse.

and then came the touches.

innocent, at first. his hand brushing yours when you passed each other something. a hand on your back when you were walking through a crowd. the way his pinky would linger next to yours on the bleachers, never quite holding, just... waiting.

your heart would thump so loud, you thought danny might hear it from across the lot.

--

one night, you were sitting on the hood of kenickie's car after a party. you'd snuck away from the pink ladies and he'd wandered off from the guys. you didn't even talk at first, just passed a bottle of coke between you, watching the stars.

then, out of nowhere, he asked softly, "you ever think about runnin' away from all this?"

you turned to him, blinking. "like... the whole school?"

"the whole thing," he said, lighting a cigarette but not looking at you. "the drama. the rep. danny's overprotective ass. just... go somewhere where no one cares who you are."

you smiled faintly. "yeah nickie. all the time."

he finally looked at you. and for the first time, he wasn't wearing his cocky grin. he looked real. scared. nervous, almost. "it's gettin' real hard not to do something stupid," he muttered.

"what do you mean?"

he stared at you, then shook his head. "nothin' doll. forget it."

but you didn't.

--

weeks passed. more sneaking around. more long walks behind the bleachers. whispered words in empty classrooms. he'd call you "dollface" under his breath, and your cheeks would burn for hours. you'd leave him little notes folded in his locker, signed only with a lipstick print.

then one night, it all snapped.

danny had gone inside early after a t-bird party. the rest of the crew was still outside. kenickie found you in the kitchen, washing a glass.

"you shouldn't be in here nickie," you said, not turning around.

"you say that like i'm gonna listen, doll."

you turned around. he stepped closer.

and for the first time... he kissed you.

it wasn't fast. or greedy. it was slow— like he was scared to ruin it. like he'd been waiting an eternity.

"doll i've been thinkin' about this since june," he whispered against your lips.

"me too nickie."

--

after that, it became a real thing. you were together.

but still— in secret.

quick kisses in alleyways. long, late-night phone calls pretending to be "just a friend from class." dancing in his garage with the music low. you made each other laugh more than either of you expected. he opened up. so did you.

but every time danny walked by, kenickie would stiffen. he'd drop your hand. he'd act like nothing happened.

because the risk wasn't just getting caught— it was losing each other.

--

then there would be moments like when you'd sneak around at school.

you met behind the school gym during lunch.

"hey," he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the shadow of the building. "you're drivin' me nuts, wearin' that skirt and parading around. the guys have been noticin', i don't like it one bit doll."

you raised an eyebrow and grinned. "it's not for them nickie."

"oh yeah?" he stepped closer. "then who's it for?"

you smirked again, slipping your arms around his neck. "maybe i'll tell you if you kiss me."

he leaned in, eyes flicking to the side. "you're gonna be the death of me, you know that?"

"then what a way to go, huh nickie?" kenickie's hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, but his eyes kept darting to the edge of the gym building, nervous.

"relax baby," you whispered, brushing your lips near his ear. "danny's nowhere near here."

he huffed. "that's what you said last time sunshine, and then he came outta nowhere like the damn FBI."

you giggled. "it was the vending machine nickie. he was getting a snack."

"exactly." kenickie leaned back just enough to meet your eyes. “your brother would kill me if he saw us right now."

you tilted your head, pretending to think. "hm. maybe. or he'd just call you chopped liver again."

kenickie groaned, resting his forehead against yours. "i swear, i'm gonna start mooing every time he walks in the room."

that made you laugh, loud and sudden, and kenickie had to clamp a hand gently over your mouth, eyes wide. "baby, shhh!"

you muffled a snort under his hand, eyes gleaming.

"you're gonna get me busted," he muttered, but he was smiling now too, looking at you like you were the only thing holding him together. his thumb brushed along your cheek.

the laughter faded into something softer.

more fragile.

more real.

"y'know..." he started, voice lower now, more serious, "i don't care what your brother says. i'd still pick you. every time."

your heart thudded. the grin dropped from your face, replaced by something warmer, deeper.

"even if it gets you chopped into little pieces?" you asked.

he softly laughs. "yeah." he nodded. "even then, doll."

the bell rang in the distance.

you both flinched.

"i gotta go," you said, glancing toward the side entrance. "if i'm late again. ms. wakefield's gonna give me detention."

kenickie ran a hand through his hair, stepping back just a little. "yeah. go."

you hesitated, eyes scanning his face. "nickie?"

he looked up.

"this... thing between us... it's real, right?"

he didn't answer with words.

instead, he leaned in, gave you one last slow, secret kiss— one that said yeah, it's real. yeah, it's terrifying, and no, i'm never letting you go.

then he whispered against your lips,

"i'll see you after school, dollface."

you smiled.

and just before you slipped around the corner and disappeared into the crowd, you whispered back,

"you better."

[cars-of-old]

Fun, fun, fun 'til daddy takes the T-Bird away

[misforgotten2]

Wow look at that dashboard! I gotta buy this car! said no one.

National Geographic Magazine - December 1963

[awfulguy99]

Some Horror Movie Bullshit Roommate!Eric Draven x Reader

Summary: Losing track of your best friend in the middle of the night is never a good thing, but it's worse in Detroit. You're at home, utterly terrified. The fear doesn't subside when he finally comes back home and the strange sounds in the attic persist.

WC: 2.0k

Warnings: Language

Masterlist

You were absolutely certain that you were losing it. There was no way these were sane person activities. Sitting on your couch with your kneecaps practically one with your collarbones, rocking back and forth wasn't usually something you found yourself doing on a Friday night. Usually, Fridays were reserved for top-tier baths and a little reading. But Eric had switched up his routine-- eating whatever produce was about to go bad, then practicing his songs-- and it was ruining your night.

He'd gone out. Nothing wrong with that; it was just guy's night. Whatever. He said he'd be back by eleven. Well, eleven came and went, and so did midnight. You'd tried to call probably two dozen times, only to be sent straight to voicemail. Surely, there was a reasonable explanation for this, right? I mean, he probably wasn't dead in an alleyway.

Right?

And let's not forget, there's a sound. A terrible, thumping sound coming from the attic. You'd never heard it before, and you never wanted to hear it again. It wasn't constant, which was a small relief. It started up every thirty minutes or so, stopped, then came back. Between Eric being gone and the sound that you were desperately trying to convince yourself wasn't made by a human, you were scared shitless.

You checked your phone in vain for the sixth time in twenty minutes, hoping that maybe he'd texted you, and you just missed it. However, there was nothing aside from the time and Pinterest offering up something you'd never look at. You turned the device face down on the cushion beside you and let out a shaky sigh. He was never late. He never missed a call, unless he was performing. You bit your lip, wondering if you should call for help.

"Thirty minutes," you muttered to yourself. "I'll give him thirty minutes. Then, I'll call."

Thirty minutes ticked by slowly. After ten minutes, you were sure that the time was up, but no; you were just tweaking. You tried to distract yourself with every method you knew-- making alphabetical lists in your head, braiding and unbraiding your hair like it mattered, even a shitty mobile game you had accidentally downloaded and kept forgetting to delete. The whole time, all you could think about was anything and everything that could be happening to Eric.

At 12:57, three minutes before you were going to make the worst phone call you'd made to date, you heard keys jingling on the other side of the front door. Your head snapped up like a pigeon's, watching intently to see if Eric would come through, or if it was just your imagination. You'd never been so happy to see such an ugly pair of leather pants in your life.

Eric let out a surprised "oof" the second you collided with his chest. He let out a small chuckle, rubbing your back gently.

"Hey," he greeted gently. "Why are you still up, huh? It's way past your bedtime."

He was right; it was seriously past the time you'd head to bed. Most nights, you were in bed by ten. But here you were on the other side of the clock, wide awake.

"You-- you weren't answering, and you were late, and there's a sound-- why didn't you answer?" Your complaints came out in a rather pathetic tone, muffled against his puffer. If you hadn't been so scared, you would have cringed at the sound of your voice.

The small smile on Eric's face faltered when he realized you hadn't waited up for him just to be his pal, and that you were genuinely distressed. "Oh, hey... come on." He led you back over to the couch and sat down with you, keeping an arm around your shoulders. "What's going on?"

"Why didn't you answer?" You repeated in a much less pathetic voice. "I called and called and called, and you didn't answer."

"Oh, my phone died," he said, pulled his phone from his pocket and holding down the power button. Nothing happened. "See?"

"And you were late," you continued. "That was terrifying! You're out in the middle of the night in Detroit, and I couldn't get a hold of you."

"There's not a lot I can do if my phone dies and I'm out," Eric reasoned gently. "It's not like I carry an outlet and a charger with me."

"You could have used Moe's phone, or Gunnar's, or Brion's, or Tex's! And there's plenty of payphones!" You exclaimed.

"Okay, okay. Take a breath." He tugged you a little closer, trying to keep you calm. "You're right. I doubt the payphones still work, but I probably could've used my head a little more. I'm sorry."

You sniffled, laying your head down on his shoulder. His cologne was wearing off, but it still held onto his jacket. Gunnar's cigarette smoke overpowered it, for the most part, but it was still a scent unique to Eric. He cupped the back of your head, holding you close.

"And there's something in the attic," you whispered. "I've been hearing it all night."

"Yeah?" He looked down at you, sliding his hand down to your neck. "Are you sure? You look pretty tired to me; it could just be your imagination."

"It's not. It keeps coming and going, every thirty minutes."

Eric let out a hefty sigh. "You really think something's up there?"

You nodded. Your eyes were starting to feel heavy.

"You want me to look? Make sure there's no raccoons up there?"

"I don't think it's raccoons." You picked your head up and met Eric's warm, hazel eyes. They softened upon seeing your bloodshot ones. "It's, like, thumping."

"What, you think somebody's up there?" He asked, reaching out absently to wipe away a tear lingering on the swell of your cheek.

"I--" The thumping started up with a rattle, then settled into is rhythmic beat. "There!" You cried, sitting up. "Listen!"

Eric listened intently. His face remained patient, but the small tweak of his eyebrow told you he was getting concerned. He stayed silent, drumming his fingers against the arm of the worn sofa.

"Let's go take a look," he suggested after a minute. "Come on."

You trailed behind him as he walked down the hall towards the pulldown ladder. He'd been up there earlier today, dragging an older amp into the space to make room for a newer one. It was quite entertaining, watching him lug the thing up the rungs.

"Stay here, okay?" He reached for the drawstring. "I'll look."

The thumping grew louder as Eric pulled the ladder down. He didn't spare you a glance before he began to climb, not wanting you to see the anxiety crawling onto his face. There was only room for one person to be scared here, and you occupied that role just fine, with your sleep deprivation and the fear he'd caused you already. He stopped a few steps above the floor, peaking into the attic. You watched his shoulders relax with a sigh. He shook his head, then started to climb back down.

"C'mere," he mumbled, opening his arms for you. "C'mere a minute."

You didn't hesitate to hug him but still gave him a questioning look. "What's up there?" You asked rather impatiently.

"Well, you know how sometimes, pipes expand with heat? Just a little, though," he explained softly. "And sometimes, that can make them rattle. But because the pipe has expanded, it's hitting the amp. I put it a little too close, I guess, and that's what's causing that thumping. Not a person."

Your stomach plummeted. That was all? You'd been sitting on the couch, losing your goddamn mind because Eric was MIA and a freak in the attic, and the only freak turned out to be you.

"Oh..." You turned your nose against his sternum, trying to hide the embarrassment that had begun to bloom on your cheeks. But he didn't have to see it to know that it was there.

"Hey, it's okay," he assured you. "I mean, you couldn't get a hold of me, and I was late coming back, and then there were spooky sounds in the attic. Not to mention that you're usually snoring your ass off by now. I get it. I would've been scared, too."

"I don't snore," you mumbled.

"Oh, like hell you don't," he snorted. "I can hear you clear across the hall, even with the rain pouring down outside."

"Yeah? Well... you... you..."

"That's what I thought. I am an angelic sleeper. And you--" He glided his hands up to your jaw, tipping your chin up towards him. The look on his face wasn't judgmental, as you had expected. It looked almost maternal instead. "--need to get your angel self to bed. You're tired, and you got all worked up. Sounds like the perfect reason to sleep to me."

You hummed an agreement but made no effort to remove yourself from his chest, resting your head once more against him. He was warm, comfortable, safe; all things you needed right now. Eric didn't try to make you leave, either. He could feel that you weren't ready to admit defeat just yet and retreat to your quarters.

"Hey," he murmured, leaning down to your ear. "Why don't you go change and come lay down with me?"

"Because you smell like Newport's, and it stinks."

"Wow, great excuse." Eric held you back just slightly, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, go change. If it means that much, I'll shower, but I think you might need a little more love right now."

"I'll be all right," you said. "Just... go showers. I'll probably be asleep before you're out."

"Okay, let me try this again: go lay down in my bed. I will be there in ten." He gave you a careful nudge towards his door. "See ya."

You bit back a smile and stepped into his room, taking in the scent. It smelled perpetually like his cologne, unlike his coat, due to a spill several months ago. Turns out, wood is porous, and it soaked up the perfume like a sponge. The unmade bed welcomed you with open arms.

By the time Eric got himself out of the shower, you were out light a light. He chuckled and shook his head, expecting nothing different. It was better that way, anyways. He knew you'd likely stay up to chat with him if he was there, no matter how tired you were. He grabbed a pair of sweats from the floor, unsure how many days they'd been sitting there. He looked at you quietly as he tugged the pants on. You looked so tired and stressed out. Had he really done that much damage just by letting his phone die and being late?

You stirred when he laid down beside you. He placed a hand on the side of your head, stroking your hair. "Shh," he hushed. "It's okay. I'm here."

"Mmph." You reached above your head and taking his hand. "Want that," you muttered, holding it close to your chest.

He chuckled, smiling down at you. "You okay?"

"Mhm."

"You sure?" He tugged you closer, accidentally knocking his knees against yours. He reached down with his available hand to rub your leg. "You seemed pretty upset."

"I was," you yawned. "But you're here."

"That's right; I am." He nodded.

You snuggled up against his chest, holding his hand between the two of you. He knew his arm would fall asleep before he did if you stayed like that, but he didn't care. All he cared about was making sure you were all right. "Why were you late?" You asked.

"Hmm? Oh. Tex's battery died. We had to wait for a jumpstart."

"Mm."

You fell quiet, the only sound being your mingling breaths. Eric continued to brush his thumb over your knee, watching as you began to drift off. His arm began to tingle, but he ignored. He laid his head on the pillow above you, sighing gently.

"Okay?" You croaked, to Eric's mild surprise.

"Yes, honey," he whispered. "Everything's okay."

Ask to join my taglist! Message me with the character(s) you want to be notified of (or just all posts in general), and I'll add you. Requests are welcome!

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Mel’s Drive-in from the 1973 film "American Graffiti". Milner's '32 Coupe, the Blonde's T-Bird, and Bob Falfa's 1955 Chevy Bel Air, left to right.

[hififotos]

55 Ford Thunderbird

[slushy-writes-slushy-recovers]

The Chaperones Pt 7 - Kenickie x Reader

I finished my coursework for the week early so I thought I would reward myself with a new part. While I do recommend reading the previous part for some more fluff (Kenickie and reader going to a dance together) I genuinely try to make sure someone completely new to this could pick it up from any part and keep up with the plot up to that part. 

TLDR: You and Kenickie have always been “the Chaperones,” always keeping your friends Sandy and Danny from letting the good thing they have go. You went to the dance together and decided to just focus on each other for a night. Maybe now you can focus on just being together. 

Pt 1 ~ 2 ~ 3 ~ 4 ~ 5 ~ 6

🍧🍧🍧

After the dance you were pretty sure Danny and Sandy were splitsville but honestly? You and Kenickie didn’t exactly care. You cared about your friends of course and you both separately showed your support for your respective side of the couple (you still weren’t sure if they had broken up officially or not yet) but you two were pretty busy locking lips these days. 

Your classes were spent making notes for each other in your notebook. Kenickie had started doodling you and him together and both of you put little teasing comments or made plans for after school or just...just gave each other the sappiest looks. He loved you, of that you were quite certain now, and after you two went to the dance together and decided to let Sandy and Danny crash and burn on their own just the once something pretty wonderful came out of the ashes. 

He didn’t even bother going to check after school if Danny was going to come and meet up with everyone at the Frozen Zone. He kept offering but Danny always ended up saying no. If he showed up he spent the night moping and then leaving early despite you and Kenickie trying your best to include him without an awkardness. Same with Sandy, and you learned pretty quickly not to bring up Danny’s name. You weren’t sure what he did at the dance but you were pretty sure Sandy caught him getting too close to an old flame or one of them said something and the anger spread like wildfire. 

It was freeing, realizing you were no longer responsible for what those two did and you never were in the first place. While you were grateful the relationship had led to you finding some common ground (then finding even more) with Kenickie you realized now just how much energy it took keeping your friends together. You and Kenickie had slowly come to the same conclusion that it wasn’t really worth it any more and then the realization that there was more going on between the two of you. “The Chaperones” really had just become “Cakes and Kenickie” and that was a good place to be in. 

“You really can’t come up with anything better than ‘Cakes’, huh?” You teased him once as you two were yet again at the Frozen Palace dancing before the planned trip up to make out point for a little guaranteed privacy. 

“Cakes” was a variation of “Pancakes.” Kenickie had always teased you when it came to nicknames with “short stack” being a favorite in the early days. When, on a group outing, you had spilled syrup all over you then it was replaced with “Pancakes” and when he got tired of such a long word it was replaced again with “Cakes.” Really you should’ve known back then, because when Putzie had made a joke about you having “something sticky” on you Kenickie gave a clear enough threat no one joked about the incident again. 

“You already got ‘babe’, ‘baby’, and ‘mine.’ Don’t get too picky on me.” Kenickie said but you knew more nicknames were to come. 

🍧🍧🍧

Kenickie was tense again. He had been that way around you for a while now but you had just not known him enough to notice it. When you two went to the dance and when you started going on dates he realized his feelings for you were reciprocated and he eased up significantly, but today, you could tell, he had a bad case of nerves. 

Did not help that something had happened with his car on the way to the drive in so you two were currently on the side of the road while he fixed it. He promised it was just a quick fix and you knew he knew what he was doing but still. You ended up getting out of the car after a long enough wait to give him a kiss and to try and assure him gently whatever was bothering him was going to be alright. Then he accidentally elbowed you since you got a little too close and he hadn’t realized you had snuck up on him while he worked on his car. You held your nose and he started muttering a few curses as he grabbed a handkerchief and tried to stop the blood, apologizing profusely. 

“Baby, it’s alright.” You tried to assure him as he looked at you in a panic. 

“It is not, I’m trying to make this a perfect night and here I went and broke your nose.” 

“You didn’t break my nose.” You said and gave him a look. 

“It’s bleeding a lot, babe,” he said and kept looking at the handkerchief he was keeping firmly in place. 

“Greased Lightning good to go?” You ask instead, knowing he needed something to focus on other than the guilt and whatever else was bothering him. 

He nodded but his worried gaze never left you. 

“I’m gonna sit down and keep this on my nose just in case. You are gonna take a second then drive us in for date night, alright?” 

He nodded and it took a bit of time to get him to calm down but once you were seated and he saw there was no more blood he quickly calmed down and focused on getting to the drive in. 

🍧🍧🍧 

He was tapping again and you knew what that meant. He kept tap tap tapping away at the seating as you two cuddled and shared popcorn. 

Finally you asked him, “Why are you so nervous?” 

He paled a little and based on his expression he looked like he’d been caught red handed. “What’re you talking about, Cakes?” 

You fixed him with a look. “You didn’t break my nose if that is what you are worried about.” 

He shook his head and tapped the dashboard with his left hand, his right arm being around you. “No, no, I mean yes, I am worried about that, it’s just...” he sighed and moved his arm off of you. 

You kept looking at him in confusion until you realized. He was pulling something out of his pocket. He couldn’t find whatever it was and started panicking until he saw it must have landed on the seat. He breathed a sigh of relief once it was back in his hands. 

“I just...” he held it up for you to see.

You know in shop class the guys often learned some metalworking and made rings out of spoons but this was different. This was something he had clearly made for you. It had an intricate design on it that was definitely not the sort of thing he would wear in a ring. His were always plain silver. Oh, Kenickie.

“Wanted to ask if you’d be my steady, Cakes.” He said and looked at you hopefully, but also like he was expecting the worst. 

“Oh, of course I will!” As if it was any question. Kenickie showed his love in so many ways, and had for quite some time when it came to you. This felt like the perfect example of his love: he had taken his time to pick out a spoon with a design you’d like and probably went to the extra work to make sure he had your ring size so it would fit. You could see his craftsmanship was damn near perfect and he had no doubt went through the entire process of making it knowing he wanted to give it to you. 

You got a little busy putting his ring on and sharing soft kisses but he whispered that he loved you and you said it right back. 

🍧🍧🍧

After high school you got engaged and married shortly after. You never really took that ring off although Kenickie ended up making a few more for you ‘as extra credit for shop class.’ 

One evening as you two settled for bed you looked at your ring, your wedding one, and smiled at him. “Hey, remember when you broke my nose?” 

“Hey, I did not break your nose.” He quickly corrected you and brought you in to cuddle. 

“Sounds better if we say you did.” You teased and he huffed. 

“Had to make sure you were going to say yes and stick around.” He joked. 

“Well I did,” you said softly. “Best decision of my life.”