A/N: I'm not sure how dead this fandom is so I'm going to post a few things and see how many views/feedback I get before posting more. Coraline's universe is too cute to NOT write!

"Why Coraline, child, you're all wet!"

"Hi, Mrs. Lovat." Coraline gave a small smile, ignoring the droplets running down her face. "Is Wybie home?

The elderly woman simply shook her head but gestured for her to come inside. It was rather difficult to tell that it was the middle of the day – puffy dark clouds filled the sky, covering any inkling of sunlight. Rain pattered the rooftops, filling the creaky house with a soft hum as Coraline slipped out of her raincoat and dripping socks. All the while Mrs. Lovat tsked and fussed over the girl.

"What…" she said as she tucked the wet strands of hair behind Coraline's ears, "possessed you to come out on a day like this?"

"Mom and Dad have been out all day and there's only so much you can do by yourself. Where's Wybie?"

Mrs. Lovat tsked again, the air puffing away Coraline's bangs. "That boy's still up in bed. Dead as a rock. Try and talk some sense into him won't you hon?"

The staircase croaked as Coraline made her way up the rickety steps. She knew Wybie's house like the lifelines on her palms. There were fourteen steps – the eighth one was surprisingly silent – and the knob of the banister fell off if you leaned too hard on it. The hallway was dark because Mrs. Lovat's eyes were sensitive to the light, and there was a mulberry stain on the carpet in front of the bathroom where Wybie spilled grape soda.

One, two, three, four, Coraline counted in her head, passing the closet and bursting into the room at the end of the hallway.

It was a mess.

And while she was used to navigating the jungles of Wybie Lovat's room, the girl still clucked her tongue anyway. Crumpled clothing caked the floor, science books stacked throughout the room, and containers of creepy-crawling-things perched on the surfaces of anything not crowded with useless junk. The bundle of sheets and blankets shifted on the old wiry mattress – it was either Wybie or a creature from the woods. But it was most likely Wybie.

"Dweeb," she muttered and tiptoed around the room until she reached the window. Condensation enveloped the glass and Coraline placed her palm against it, her colorful fingernails glistening. Crisscrossing towards the bed, Coraline smirked as she slowly removed the sheets. There could be a Zombie Apocalypse and Wybie would still sleep through it. The boy was tangled – all arms and legs – and his mouth hung slightly agape as he whistled asleep. So without further adieu, Coraline pressed her cold moist hand onto Wybie's face, which resulted in –


Mrs. Lovat clucked her tongue from downstairs and shook her head at the pounding of feet and giggles.

"Coraline, I'm gonna kill you!"

Rainy days.