#generational trauma but make it hockey ya know what i mean?

[patrice-bergerons]

I was thinking and what if I wrote a fic in which Bergy always knew Brad was gay and always told him that was perfectly ok but that he should keep it a secret (even from the team) if he wanted to have a good, long NHL career, and Brad wanted that so he did.

Fast forward a few years, and now it is present day, and after being so careful for so long, Brando catches Brad making out with a guy one day. Panicked, Brad calls Bergy for advice - Bergy predictably tells him to tell Brando it was a one time thing, it didn't mean anything, he is straight etc. Brad says OK but when he goes to talk to Brando, on a whim, he does the opposite: he owns it, he comes out. To his utter surprise, far from rejecting him, Brando is lovely about it, and he says, the rest of the team would be too, if and when Brad told them.

So Brad does, slowly at first and then with a giddy rush after because just like Brando said - after so many years spent in the shadows, thinking he would be shunned if people knew, he is met with nothing but a fierce acceptance and love.

He goes to talk to Bergy. He tells Bergy that he was wrong. For the first time in their relationship, it feels rather like an accusation. Since it's time to let loose, he also asks Bergy for confirmation of something he suspected: that Bergy knew, could tell, that Brad had a monster crush on him for years. Bergy doesn't need to say yes in words - Brad can read the answer on his face. "Well," Brad replies, cold, hurt, "I got over that so you don't need to worry."

Except there is just the one thing Brad doesn't know, which is that Bergy himself is queer too. It's just that when he was younger, he was told much the same, to hide, that there was no place in hockey for who he really is; he had a monster crush on Brad just the same, and thought (perhaps correctly) that if Brad knew he was queer, there was zero way they would be able to keep their hands off one another and it would destroy them both.

So he said nothing - and now he is left in this place where Brad is loved and accepted and cherished within an inch of his life by his team for exactly who he is, by a team who was once Bergy's and has since moved on without him, that he was the thing that kept Brad from this for years, and that now that he realises this is something they could get to have, it's too late -- Brad has made it very clear that he has moved on. 😊

(But has he actually?)

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jason Voorhees x Freddy’sDaughter!Reader || Oneshot

Title: They Cuddles; Him, Her, and her Bottle of Hypnocil. 

Notes:

‘-There was something in her, something that was… pure horror. Everything you were supposed to watch out for. Heights, fire, shards of glass, snakes. Everything that his mom tried so hard to keep him safe from.’ - John Ajvide Lindqvist.

Inspired by the above quote.

Quick Background of Reader: You’re Maggies younger (Only a little) half-sister. (You were conceived and born shortly after he killed Loretta and your mother didn’t want you so you were pawned off to him so you were living with him until he was burnt by the Springwood Parents, whereas Maggie was of course taken away) (Pretend it was years between the time he was caught and the time he was killed)

Tried to write in Jasons POV, not sure how good it is, hah. 

I miiiiiiight have some ideas for future parts of this, this was adorable and sweet.

Plot: 

Just, Jason falling in so love with the enemies daughter who is so like her father - she’s loud, she’s hurt, she makes s t u p i d jokes and then laughs way too hard at them, she’s dangerous, - but who is gentle with him and kind. (She’s basically the type of girl Pam wouldn’t approve of at first but is so honest and kind that Pam cant help but begrudgingly like her eventually XD )

Warnings: Age gap? I mean it’s not a main plot point so you could ignore it but Jason and Freddy are similar in age so you’re young enough to be Jason’s kid too- but you’re in your 30’s-40’s so its okie. Fatherly trauma (Is that the right phrase?? Hah. You know what I mean) / Nightmare on elm Street survivor trauma also. Panic attack I think? Ends in fluff ^^ 

~~~

When you stayed a night in your van at that old, abandoned camp, you certainly didn’t expect to meet Jason. I mean, you weren’t surprised by his… abnormalities -referring to the fact that he’s dead. Not his deformities, - as much as you were how cute and sweet he was. And how well you two got on, after he tried to kill you.

And you don’t blame him for that! You trespassed; you get it. If you had known he was there and he had taken ownership of the area, then you would have asked before parking there.

When Jason had found a girl hidden away, sleeping in the back of a yellow van, he certainly didn’t expect that she would soon become so important to him. She was just another trespasser acting like a hoodlum -living! In! A! Van?! – in his general vicinity and of course, he didn’t like that.

Boring chase story short; He pushed your van over and there was a chase through the forest (You’ve never run that fast in your life, jesus christ. You can still feel the wind burn on your cheeks, that one rock under your bare feet that cut you and the energy rushing through your body pushing you forward anyway) and you leapt into the lake- waiting until he came in after you. And then when he did, you just screamed random nonsense, splashing around spastically at him until you hit a nerve that sobered him (Something about his mother). This is a technique you developed after you were given up to various foster homes after your father was burnt to death (And then also when he found you again) when stinky foster parents, foster siblings, bullies at school rando’s off the street wanted to put their hands on you, and that you mastered since. It works, evidently, with asexual zombie monsters too.

After that, you went back to your van and rap up your foot, thinking that at least the lake water cleaned up the cut on your foot, and then grumpily set up your bed on your window now since the van (Poor, dear Mandy) is now on its side thanks to the local undead jerk!

You hadn’t slept a wink the rest of that night, not because of the hulking mass of rotten flesh and a hockey mask that you knew was lurking somewhere close by, watching you, but because you weren’t about to waste an extra Hypnocil pill in one night. You just laid there, pillows propping you up and being bored. Staring at the ceiling, smearing various ugly pastel shades onto a page in your sketchbook, listening to the woods and imagining getting rawed by Danny Zuko were highlights. Then, when daylight finally broke out, you were finally, unhappily wondering how you were going to get Mandy back on her wheels, zipping up your jacket and looking at your beautiful pale-yellow Volkswagen.

You thinking what pain this would be to correct… and then having turned on your heel and went on a trek to the closest town to get some kind of breakfast. Procrastinating the inevitable.

When you had returned, a bag of groceries in your arms -drink propped on top of everything else so you could sip through the straw as you walked,- , your van was back on her wheels.

You don’t know what it was about you that made him do that, that made him stop and not kill you, and its likely you’ll never find out since he doesn’t talk, after that you had gone directly to find the - cute, now, -behemoth you knew fixed it for you, to make and give him fairy bread to say thank you and sorry for what happened last night- and honestly you’ve been friendly ever since. More then friendly, after a while, but never less then.

___TIME SKIP: Current time now. Months and months after you met___

~ POV Change~

Oh my god.

The second I see that the familiar bottle, the one from Typo with the Coca Cola logo on it that reminds me absolutely zero percent of my father that I keep Hypnocil pills in is not where I left it, a deep sense of dread and anxiety fills me up to the brim- only proceeding to grow outwards to the air around me as I search in an increasingly more panicked fashion for the thing. Where is it!? Where is it, where is it, where is it. “Where, where, where, where, where, where- “

I fling a pillow out the back of the van and am just bundling up the blankets, not caring what else goes with it to push out as well so I can find that fucking bottle when I notice Jason standing there at the back doors watching me, head tilted. I immediately stop what I’m doing, heart stopping for a second. “Lost something.” Is all I can squeak out.

He leans forward and I watch as I bends down so his head and upper body are in here with me and looks around, then up at me again as if to ask what I’m looking for so he can help me. “I-Its, um… “ My voice trembles. I need to find that bottle- the fact that Jason is being so sweet and offering to help me look just makes me feel even less together. I could cry. “A r-red bottle with umm, curly writing on it?” He probably doesn’t remember what coke is, much less the logo…

He nods, and starts looking around, eyes focused and slow as the graze along everything in the van so studiously that I stay extra still instead of helping- so he doesn’t miss anything with that super-vision he’s acting like he must have. The vans a mess and I’m just kneeling in the corner, against the driver’s seat with the blankets all bundles up in my lap, worrying my bottom lip and waiting for this man to save me. Please, jesus- help me. Save me.

A moment later and I’m about to slowly move from my place and Jason suddenly moves. His heavy arm shoots forward and pulls the bottle, a tubular shock of red, out of a nook between my portable DVD player/screen and some books and I was showing him earlier, offering it to me.

Dropping the blankets and sitting on them instead, feeling the softness on my bare legs and taking the bottle from him before hugging it to my chest and covering my face with my hands, silently.

Oh my god.

~POV Change~

Y/N curls up on herself, hiding her face and the bottle between her legs and her tummy and doesn’t make much noise except a quick, quiet whimper. She’s acting different, in a bad way. Why isn’t she talking to him, Jason wonders? Why isn’t she being loud? Is she okay?

Looking around the van, because he has to go in there and see if she’s okay- get her out of that body-cocoon, Jason crawls into the vehicle that he’s never dared to touch since the first night they met, and it breathes under his weight a little bit. He sits down next to her, crossing his legs and watching her for a while. What… to do… now… hmm…

Finally, he decides putting his hand on her shoulder might work to get her attention at least, and she does relax her shoulders quickly at the contact. Then looks up, face red, at him before wiping her face again and crawling suddenly into his lap. She takes a deep breath, regaining some of her usual colour and composure as Jason just sits solid and c o m p l e t e l y still beneath her, flashing him a quick, toothless smile. “Thank you for finding this Jason, it’s important to me.” She looks at the bottle in her hands, not wanting to put it down and risk losing it again even as she knows its irrational that she would do it twice in a row. “Its… how I keep him away… “

Y/N looks up at Jason, eyebrows risen up her forehead to watch him cautiously, worriedly, looking for signs. Did he understand what you were talking about? And if so, is he okay at the mention of your father?

He’s just completely unmoving still. Y/N blinks at the utter lack of responce. “Jason?”

When she still doesn’t receive a response, she taps his mask gently. “Jaaaason?”

That gets his attention, as he looks down at her face… and nods. A wonky smile that makes his somehow-still-beating heart flutter weirdly appears on her face and she looks outside instead. “So, what did you come to see me for? Ya just missed me? Hah, I missed you too cutie. How about we go for a walk? Its pretty today- ah.” When Jason’s big arms suddenly, slowly take action and wrap heavily around her, she’s pleasantly surprised. Her anxieties and panic from earlier all but slip from their knot in her chest and disappear at the action, and she responds by turning properly to her side in his lap so she can lean into his chest. “Oor we could cuddle. That sounds better anyway!~”

She taps the side of his face affectionately before closing her eyes, and he lets his own half lid themselves at the feeling of her so close to him. She’s so cute and warm. Its weird, but he thinks- if someone were to come right now in this moment, and not be loud and not do anything to Y/N or him… he would probably let them go.

(Well at least until he let her go.)