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toxinoire · 2 months

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Finally, I can write again!

This is how I visualize the final scene went down. A mix of both the 1988 movie and the musical.

~~~~~~

"Say hi to God."

Kaboom

Veronica, with a cigarette between her fingers and a sprained ankle, made her way through the school hallway as the other students ran past her to see where the explosion came from.

She contemplated.

She feels nothing.

Is she happy that four people had to fucking die? Absolutely not.

But...

When she looks at who are dead, Heather Chandler, Kurt Kelly, Ram Sweeney, Jason Dean...

Honestly she only feels bad for Heather. Because as much of a bitch as she was, she had her good moments. Moments that made her seem slightly human.

Kurt and Ram, she doesn't care. Those two were rapists. She doesn't like that she pulled the trigger, but Kurt and Ram being dead meant nothing to her.

As for JD....

She hopes he sees his mother. She hopes his father grows a brain and realizes his son is gone because he was never a father to him.

But as for him literally exploding in front of her...

She feels nothing.

She can only mourn that JD she first met, the lost boy who wanted his mother and was sweet, kind, a gentleman, and caring. Not the one that died in front of her.

The crowds moved past her, Veronica is too tired to even care that no one is asking what happened to her, why she looks disheveled and has blood running down her head.

Well,

Someone did say something.

"Veronica." Heather Duke called her, in all red. Veronica can't deny that she looks good in it, but still, she hates her in it. "You look like hell." Heather Duke moved closer to her, as if to inspect her. Veronica notices the slight concern in her eyes, and how she seems to be holding back her hands from reaching out to Veronica.

Veronica hates that last detail. Heather used to always reach out to her.

"Yeah?" Veronica chuckles. "I just got back."

Then, another voice calls her. "Veronica!"

Veronica and Heather Duke turn around to see Heather McNamara running to them. "Where have you been?!"

Heather Mac looks worried. Like, really really worried. "Miss Flemming told us you killed yourself." Heather Mac actually reaches out to her, inspecting her injuries, before she rests her hands on Veronica's face.

Veronica doesn't even hide how she leans into the touch.

She then sees the red fucking scrunchie and snaps back to where she is.

Veronica moves closer to Heather Duke and turns her around to take that damn thing off her.

"Veronica, what are you doing?" Heather Duke asks.

The students who were originally going to run past them stops in their tracks when they see Veronica with the scrunchie.

She wears it on her wrist and raises it up.

Time to actually do something.

"Listen up folks, war is over. Brand new sheriff's come to town." Veronica knows she sounds tired, but fuck that. "We are done with acting evil, we will lay out weapons down." She ties her hair with the scrunchie.

Everyone is watching her.

Good.

"We're all damaged, we're all frightened, we're all freaks. But that's alright. We'll endure it, we'll survive it-" Veronica pauses slightly when she sees Betty and Martha by the crowd. She calls them. "Martha, Betty."

They both turn to look at her, clearly resisting the urge to move. Veronica takes a deep breath. "Are you free tonight?"

Martha and Betty look at each other, before turning back to Veronica. They actually move forward this time.

It was silent for a while.

"What?" Martha breaks the silence.

"Uh, my date to pep rally blew-"

Accidental slip

"-me off..."

That's better

"So I was wondering if you guys weren't doing anything tonight we could pop some jiffy pop? Rent a video?" Veronica can hear how hopeful she sounds.

She doesn't have the right to be hopeful after what she did, but she still is.

"Something with a happy ending." She finishes. Veronica really wants a happy ending right now.

"Are there any happy endings?" Martha asks. Gosh, she sounds so tired. Betty isn't even looking at her in the eye.

Veronica looks at everyone around them and sighs. She turns back to her--hopefully still best friends. "I can't promise no more Heathers, high school may not ever end." She steps closer. "Still I miss you, I'd be honored-" She swallows. "If you'd let me be your friend."

"My friend." Martha says, as she takes Veronica by the hand and pulls her into a hug.

"We can be seventeen. We can learn how to chill." Veronica feels tears form in her eyes as Martha joins her. "If no one-"

Then, Betty joins them. "-loves me now, someday somebody will." She finally meets Veronica's gaze. "We can be seventeen. Still time to make things right. One day we'll change the world, but let's kick back tonight."

This time, it's Veronica who reaches out her to Heather Duke and Heather Mac.

Heather Mac immediately grabs her hand. "Let's go be seventeen. Take off our clothes and dance."

Veronica walks, well, limps, towards Heather Duke and reaches out, a silent plea in her eyes. Heather Duke hesitantly takes her hand, and once she has fully held it, Veronica pulls her into a hug.

Heather Duke puts one hand on Veronica's back, lightly returning the hug. But she grips onto Veronica's jacket as if it's a lifeline.

Veronica sighed. She really missed her. She didn't like what the scrunchie turned her into.

But holy shit, did she missed her.

"Act like we're all still kids, cause this could be our final chance."

Veronica smiles as she sees Betty, Martha, Heather M, and Heather D all try to be nice to each other.

Maybe they can all be friends.

Now everyone is joining them.

"Always be seventeen

Celebrate you and I

maybe we won't grow old.

And maybe then we'll never die."

Veronica feels happy. Genuinely, happy.

She missed that.

"We'll make it beautiful."

Veronica swears she hears Heather Chandler's voice.

"We'll make it beautiful.

Beautiful

Beautiful"

This really feels like a win for Veronica.

#heathers the musical #heathers 1988 #heathers #veronica sawyer #heather duke #heather mcnamara #heather chandler #jason dean #martha dunnstock #betty finn #chansaw #dukesaw #mcnamawyer #mcduke #poly!heathersxveronica #jdronica #at least they're implied #yay i found the motivation to write a short fic again #heathers fanfiction

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kining-the-evil · 1 year

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Spending Valentine’s Day With J.D

I’m alone for Valentine’s Day for the first time in four years so I’m coping by writing

It’s no shock that Jason doesn’t like Valentine’s Day

It’s not that he doesn’t like showing you how much he loves you, he would prove his devotion every day if you asked

But he despises the concept of the holiday

It’s just a trap to get people to spend extra money on things that really don’t mean anything

If he found out you were looking forward to it though, he would give it his best shot

If you aren’t into his whole murder ‘hobbie’, he would get you some candy you like and take you out to a quiet place to spend quality time together

If you are, he has a bit more detailed plans for the two of you

He would have you pick a victim, and together you’d kill them

The night would end the same for either situation; surprisingly soft sex

Make sure to thank him for doing this

Weather he admits it or not, the only reason you aren’t hiding in one of your rooms is because he wants you to be happy

Also buy him a slushy

That is his love language, and he would do amazing valentines dates if it kept you in his arms while holding a slushy

#jason dean x reader #jason dean #jd x reader #jason dean heathers #heathers (1988)#heathers #jd heathers #fanfiction

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draculasfavoritewife · 4 months

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I Still Want You

Summary: It's been awhile since the two of you last worked together, but some things will never change.

Pairing: Madmartigan x fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief references to injury and alcohol use, some sexist jokes and sensuality (look, I physically cannot stop writing about reader running their fingers through pretty men's hair, alright? It's an actual problem guys).

So my family finally made me sit down and watch the original Willow film this past summer, and I ended up pretty smitten with this man lol. What can I say, the fallen-from-grace type with a flexible moral code and piercing eyes just really does it for me I guess. 🤷🏽‍♀️ (Also young Val Kilmer in drag? Kinda hot.)

"I don't know why the hell I let you talk me into this load of bull," you groan, a hand covering your exasperated face. "Why, in the name of all that's holy, did I leave behind my honest living to follow you into this harebrained scheme?"

The man next to you throws you a wide and winning smile, blue eyes flashing in the dim light. "Cause you didn't want me to come back to you dead," he says with a knowing smugness. "You love me."

"Did I say that?"

"You didn't have to," he teases, leaning down to saucily kiss your forehead before readjusting the woman's dress that doesn't quite fully hide his very masculine form. "Now, how do I look?"

You roll your eyes and crawl to your feet in the cramped cellar where he had chosen to make his quick change. "He's going to see through you in a second."

Your companion frowns, dark brows sulky and full lips pouting like a petulant child. "Please. The old oaf's such a lusty pig he's going to see exactly what he wants to see and fall head over heels for me. Believe me, it's happened before." He hurriedly stuffs the bodice of the dress until he has quite the impressive bust, and it's suddenly all you can do not to laugh out loud at the sight of him.

"I'm not sure you can slander other men until you finally start thinking with what's above your own belt," you chide, helping him wrangle his long, sooty-black locks beneath a headscarf. As always, you're momentarily distracted by how soft his hair stays, even though you know he does the bare minimum to care for it.

"I do think pink is definitely your color though, Mads."

"Shut up," he growls half-seriously. "We all do what we have to. A man's gotta eat, you know."

You snort. "Right. Because that's the old Madmartigan I remember. Always strictly practical, and definitely not getting in over his head robbing a rich man when he could find some honest work."

"Where at? A brothel?"

You move to slap his chest, but never make contact. It feels wrong somehow, now that his enormous false bosom is in the way.

Madmartigan sees the discomfort on your face and snickers. "Not to worry, Sweets. Your beautiful wife will return to you in one piece, trust me."

He presses a fond kiss to your cheek and turns around to the cellar door, ready to make a move on his unsuspecting target.

And promptly lets out a muffled yelp as you slap his ass.

"What the hell, Sweets?! What was that for?"

You smirk and make yourself more comfortable atop a large bag of flour, to wait out the results of his loosely formed "plan". Chances are he might have to call for backup if things get sticky.

"We women have to put up with that all the time from you 'lusty pigs'. Thought you should get used to it sooner rather than later."

"Insolent fox," he mutters, and hastily leaves, as if afraid you'll smack him again.

You might have, too.

Man's got a fine ass.

"Hold still, idiot," you scold as he flinches away from the wet cloth in your hand for the seventh time. "Do you want my help with that bloody lip or not?"

"I don't know why you're so angry," he grouses. "You're not the one that got their clothes torn off and beaten up for not actually being a woman."

"Oh, stop whining. You got out of there with the gold you came for and the other guy is worse off than you. And it's my dress that got sacrificed, so I think I've every right to complain." You gesture to the shredded pink material hanging around his waist, now the only thing preserving your disheveled warrior's dignity.

He at least has the grace to look momentarily contrite. "Right. I'll get you a new one."

You're slightly concerned by the fact that he doesn't explicitly use the word "buy", but decide to let it go for now. Many of the gifts he's given you throughout the course of your years-long friendship have shady origins, but it is the thought that counts.

And honestly, you're just glad he's not hanging up in a crow cage left for dead somewhere again.

His sharp eyes soften as he finally lets you finish tending to him. "Why did you really come along with me?" he asks bluntly. "I have nothing with which to bribe you, and you have built yourself a life here. When you made the decision to quit while we were ahead and go straight, I didn't understand, but I think I understand you even less now."

Not wanting to meet that deeply piercing ice-blue gaze, you study his lips instead, transfixed as ever by their perfect, sweeping curves. He can dress in animal skins like a barbarian and be constantly covered in ash and dirt, but the refined features of the noble knight he once was are never hidden completely, try as he might.

"I asked you a question, Sweets."

"Maybe I missed you, you boor." Unsettled, you smack him with the damp cloth and abruptly turn away to stoke the fire.

"Why?" You can't tell if he's genuinely lost or fishing for a particular answer from you. "You have a little bit of land, you're a respected herbalist, and I'm sure you've had more than a few offers of courtship since I saw you last."

Is that jealousy simmering behind his careless words?

You smirk over your shoulder. "Please. Herbalist is just two degrees south of witch around here. Men fear me."

He rises to his feet and comes up behind you, his large hands settling on your upper arms and rubbing gentle lines from your shoulders down to your elbows and back again. "I've missed being ripped to shreds by that razor-sharp tongue."

"Have you." You sigh softly as you lean back against his broad chest; without the barrier of one of his leather-and-fur shirts, all you can smell is him, a warm, welcome scent you hadn't forgotten in all the time since you last parted ways. Your bodies melt into each other with old familiarity, prompting a rush of memories of huddling together for warmth during long winters on the run, posing as husband and wife for hustling heists, his arm wrapped tightly around you on horseback.

All the little things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. The intimately shared moments that had made it so hard to leave him. But you had felt like you needed to protect your heart somehow.

After all, at the time he had seemed far more content to remain unbound to anyone, even you.

"I have another question," he murmurs, his lips now only a hair's breadth from the stretch of exposed skin at your collarbone.

"And that would be...?" You stifle a shiver, his hot breath skimming your neck and sending prickles of anticipation dancing across your body in all directions.

His cheek rests against yours. "That time I tried to kiss you, do you remember that night?"

Your hands tense, unconsciously grasping fistfuls of the torn dress fabric still hanging from his belt; there's a minuscule hitch to his breath at the sudden feeling of your hands at his hips.

"Yes."

"Why did you run away from me?"

The raw uncertainty running beneath that simple question makes you turn to face him again, acutely aware of the feeling of him against you, the hard muscles of his chest pressing into the softness of yours, his hands sliding down to linger in the curve of your back. There is no judgment in his handsome face, only a twinge of long-hidden hurt and real curiosity.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his thick dark hair, loving the way the glossy strands slide across your skin. It's gotten so long, and your hands itch to weave it into slender braids like you used to.

"I'm pretty sure you were drunk, Mads. And I...I just wasn't fully ready," you admit.

"I still want you," he tells you softly. "I never stopped wanting you, even when you left."

You smile as he bends to rest his forehead against yours. "And I would still kill for you."

"Gods, you know it drives me crazy when you talk like that." He leans in even further, eyes dancing in the glow from the firelight. "How do you feel tonight?"

Your hands trail down again to cradle his face. "I think I'm ready now. I've missed you."

So you kiss him.

You're not surprised he's such a good kisser, but maybe more than a little startled that there's a real gentleness in him, a smooth temperance to his wildly passionate expression of love. And as the sweet reality of having him alive and solid and in your arms once again after so long finally sets in, you realize what you truly want with crystal clarity.

"Take this ridiculous thing off," you breathe as your lips finally part and you tug at his tattered skirt.

"You sure?" It takes him a second to figure out what you're really asking. "Cause I don't have anything else --"

You laugh and silence him with another kiss, guiding his hands to the laces of your corset and watching his expression change from one of surprise to warmth and hunger as he swiftly helps you undress.

#x reader #female reader #willow 1988 #madmartigan x reader #madmartigan #romance #sweet #humor #my fanfiction #willow fanfic #this was in my drafts #scoundrel #idk I think he's hot #sortafluffy #friends to lovers #there needs to be more fic about him <3

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cgsf · 1 year

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Men's Hockey (RPF) fanfiction recs — Patrick/Jonathan {Part 1}

••••••

"This Heart Is Not For Wasting" (E) by thefourofswords | 16,007 | Patrick puts his head in his hands. “How could this get any worse?” “Wait, it’s not like, a big deal is it?” Duncs asks, looking at him and Jonny in turn. “The way you and Jonny are weird about each other? She’s gotta have made her peace with it ages ago.”

"Keep You On My Arm" (E) by rsadelle | 6,732 | In which the gay bar is Stalberg's idea and Kaner doesn't notice Jon pretending to be his boyfriend.

"Words They'll Write on My Tombstone" (E) by thefourofswords | 10,507 | In which Patrick Kane gets a little hysterically obsessed with Jonathan Toews' sexual prowess.

"Tympani" (E) by demotu | 45,143 | Jonny’s prostate is a gift from the gods. Patrick’s patience, also.

"Learning As We Go" (E) by purplecatsweater | 30,207 | Patrick lets out a sigh, kind of heavy, and says, “You have to look at me when you’re talking, man.” Jonny fumbles at that, pushing his feet over the edge and looks up. He thought he had been, but Patrick is watching him, waiting for him to talk again, paying attention like he knows he’ll miss it if he’s not. All Jonny can think is how much that has to suck.

"22" (T) by purplecatsweater | 12,598 | There’s no other explanation. His soulmate must have turned twenty-two yesterday.

"Disproven Hypotheses" (E) by thefourofswords | 16,367 | In which everybody thinks Jonathan Toews is chaste like a nun. Everybody, it turns out, is very, very wrong.

"in close" (E) by demotu | 2,719 | It’s been undeniably cuddling for a couple of weeks, now, and Pat’s taken to tucking his face into the crook of Jonny’s neck while they talk, his lips catching on Jonny’s skin as they go over the last game or the upcoming competition.

"let them leave you up in the air" (E) by sorrylatenew | 8,632 | It feels so fucking good and Patrick can already tell, already knows this one’s gonna leave him messed up afterwards.

"Fight or Flight" 🔒 (E) by sophiahelix | 2,173 | Jonny lifts his hands to rest on Patrick's shoulders, warmth seeping through the cloth of his t-shirt. He leans in, pushing his nose into the hair at Patrick's temple, and takes a long sniff. A trembling starts between Patrick's shoulder blades, like he's freezing cold or he's been up way too late. "Yeah," Jonny says, low and rumbling, and Patrick can feel his voice. "That smells right."

"Chosen" 🔒 (M) by sophiahelix | 2,510 | "It's not what it looks like," Patrick says. Jonny clears his throat, tracing the tiny blue lettering that curves along the pale skin of Patrick’s exposed hip, above his waistband. “That says Jonny.”

"Written All Over My Face" (E) by rsadelle | 4,678 | He and Jonny hook up sometimes, sober on the road, drunk at home, but Pat isn't thinking about that, not when he takes Jonny's jersey and not later, when he's getting ready for bed in a room that's too empty with just him in it and he opens his bag to the bright red of a jersey. He just takes the jersey out of his bag and pulls it on over his t-shirt.

"Orbital Resonance" (E) by joyfulseeker & thefourofswords | 80,825 | “Jonny, sometimes when you look at me like that...” Patrick trails off. Jonny runs his thumb along Patrick’s jaw, dipping down to his throat as if he could urge him to complete that sentence. Patrick’s adam’s apple bobs under the press of his fingers. “Like what?” Jonny asks. “Like you lo—” Patrick stumbles again, cutting off the word before it’s fully voiced. Jonny’s barely seen him appear anything less than fearless. He looks terrified right now. Jonny breathes out. “Yeah,” he replies, finally throwing that down.

"Accepted Practice" 🔒 (E) by thefourofswords | 25,665 | People have started referring to Jonny as Patrick’s little buddy, and every time Jonny looks over him, that hidden smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. He’s a little demon—Patrick has long since come to realize. The thing is—he likes Jonny. He likes talking to him about hockey, and hearing his funny stories about his family. They talk about UMass and Patrick’s complete lack of a major. How can he even be sharing this with a 14-year-old? He doesn’t know.

"A Climate of Competitive Egoism" (M) by thefourofswords | 3,000 | Sometimes you just need these ego-defense mechanisms to justify making out with your teammate.

"No, I Never Told Lies To You" (E) by thefourofswords | 6,112 | And then there was Patrick, head turning, drawing Jon’s eyes in powerful magnetic flux, the slow smile dawning into a grin, and all Jon could think, as his heart burst in his chest, amidst the sound of the dagger and the cheers they hadn’t heard in far too long, was, oh. Oh.

"This Is What A Love Song Sounds Like" (E) by thefourofswords | 7,237 | Ten years after they fucked around in high school, Patrick and Jonny meet back up at their high school reunion.

"Vitamin K" (E) by thefourofswords | 9,373 | That time Jonny and Patrick got together because they scored 10 points together.

"When The Heart Finesse Won" (E) by thefourofswords | 3,782 | A story of two idiots who've been in love for twenty years finally getting together in 2021.

"Action Reaction" (E) by thefourofswords | 12,213 | A story where Johnny and Patrick definitely don't get along off the ice.

"The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews" 🔒 (T) by jezziejay | 15,955 | In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat. AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

"bona fides" (E) by demotu | 12,248 | “I’m gay, Patrick,” Jonathan interrupts, voice somehow still even and steady when Patrick feels ready to bolt. “I’m gay, and I played hockey. I thought about going pro. I have friends in the league, so—” he shrugs. “Like I said, I’m not crying in any gay bars over this, but I get why you might.”

"Call Me Baby" (E) by demotu | 7,115 | Patrick's text says: sometimes all I can think about is rubbing my dick all over your tits. It's not meant for Jonny, but maybe he wishes it were.

"still waters" (E) by demotu | 7,803 | “Why did we stop doing this?” Pat asks, softening against Jon’s hip. “We wanted different things,” Jon says, curling his arm around Pat. “Did we?” Pat asks, sounding doubtful. “Yeah,” explains Jon. “I wanted a relationship, you wanted to fuck.” Pat uncurls, sits up. “That’s not how it went at all.”

"it's not gay if they don't come" (M) by Penelopiad | 12,812 | They always wrestle for it. It’s like, tradition at this point.

"Somewhere Only We Know" 🔒 (M) by jezziejay | 21,705 | Kaner kicks off his twenty-eighth birthday party with an exponential crisis. Jonny frowns at him. “You’re having a crisis of ever-more-rapidly-increasing numbers?”

"Like Cupping Water (In Your Hands)" (E) by boxparade | 13,144 | "Are you sure it’s in there?" Kaner asks, poking indelicately at Annie’s stomach and squinting. "Kaner," Jon hisses, slapping at his hand. "What! It’s my baby, Jonny, I gotta make sure Annie’s mutant body didn’t, like, absorb its powers or something."

"Sunday Edition" 🔒 (NR) by twentysomething | 2,903 | And of course, because Sharpy is the most ill-mannered Canadian ever, he opens up the newspaper like he doesn't have the most entertaining thing in Chicago across the table from him anyway. He's totally pretending to read it, just to make Patrick salty, but two can play at that game, so he snatches the Sunday inserts out of the folds, smirking at Sharpy. But he glances down and staring up at him, looking like, all of eighteen and strangely soft and sweet is Jonathan fucking Toews.

"no guarantees, maybe that’s what i need" (E) by 19red & littlelocaldreamer | 4,397 | He thinks how easy it’d be just to ask, how hard it is to imagine an answer that wouldn't be yes, that wouldn't overlap with a plea.

"when you give that look to me" (E) by littlelocaldreamer | 2,210 The tension’s been building for years.

"too young for love" (E) by littlelocaldreamer | 1,430 | Patrick’s always been his most reckless self when drinking.

"something i can breathe in" (E) by littlelocaldreamer | 1,901 | He never put his heart into sex the way he put it into hockey.

"the only one my body loves" (E) by littlelocaldreamer | 3,416 | Everyone has something to say about Patrick’s size. Everyone but Jonny.

"to follow all the paths you choose" (E) by littlelocaldreamer | 20,788 | He should stop this before they cross a line they can’t come back from.

"his voice is a familiar sound" (E) by littlelocaldreamer | 2,178 | They’ve never slept in the same bed together before.

"Put My Key In Your Ignition" (E) by joyfulseeker & thefourofswords | 34,371 | Patrick has gotten used to getting it exactly the way he wants, when he wants. Jonny's got something to say about that.

"The Winning Strategy" (E) by SimoneClouseau | 10,560 | Jonny doesn't lose at gay chicken.

"end game" (T) by 19red | 1,400 | Patrick wants someone to touch his dick.

"dress me in your favorite disguise" 🔒 (E) by 19red | 7,250 | Just two boys... having a threesome and definitely not thinking about each other's dicks 'cause they're not gay!

"i think of you in colors" 🔒 (E) by toewsin | 24,893 | Patrick's calm and uneventful life as a figure skating coach at Shattuck-St. Mary's is rudely disturbed when recently retired NHL-star Jonathan Toews arrives on campus as the new hockey coach.

"our decades in the sun" 🔒 (E) by toewsin | 21,017 | Jonny meets Patrick in 2009, when the team stays at the Kane Regency Buffalo hotel.

"safety first" 🔒 (T) by toewsin | 1,645 | It's not that Jonny doesn't like Connor. He's a solid guy and a good teammate. Now if only he could stop yanking Kaner around like a sack of potatoes, that'd be great.

"Not a Heart of Gold" (E) by Anonymous | 14,451 | For the longest time this fic was unofficially titled 'Kaner's not a hooker but Tazer probably wants him to be', and I really can't think of a better way to summarise it than that. Many words of Tazer fantasising, pining, jerking off, and paying for sex, because that's apparently how he rolls.

"Do It Better Than Anybody" 🔒 (NR) by twentysomething | 2,916 | And Johnny is just lounging over Patrick's breakfast counter, looking like something a Pay-Per-View channel devoted to farm-bred Canadian ass would spit up, his gray, threadbare sweatpants doing nothing to prevent Patrick from staring at his stupidly perfect everything. It's unsporting to give Patrick a semi in his own kitchen just by existing.

"Reaching Out" 🔒 (E) by elisera | 2,628 | He’s already dozing by the time the last guys make it on the bus, and he barely registers it when Johnny strokes the back of his knuckles over Patrick’s cheek on his way to his own seat, just twitches at the tease, the tickle, rubs his beard against his shoulder.

"squeezing blood from a stone" 🔒 (E) by achilleees | 25,300 | Kaner’s voice wavers, losing composure. “It’s a platelet disorder.” Johnny frowns. “Like… the shit that clots your blood?” “Right,” Kaner says. “I don’t have any.”

"tightened my belt around my hips (where your hands were missing)" 🔒 (E) by sarapod | 10,757 | Getting dumped by Jonny is sort of like being in a hit-and-run: Patrick doesn’t see it coming and by the time he can react it’s over.

"lean a little to the left" (M) by demotu | 18,791 | Kane leaned to his left, trying to coax the insolent puck wide with a little body English. Then he leaned harder. Then he smacked himself on the forehead when he realized what was about to happen.

"Tell Me I'm Pretty" 🔒 (E) by sarapod | 7,745 | Patrick Kane’s not that kind of girl. Jonny’s just not sure what kind of girl he is.

"Right Number" 🔒 (E) by brutti_ma_buoni | 9,571 | He texts Kaner, just quickly. Just to get himself out of his head. 'Hey buddy. Think you misdialled. But I’m here for you, whatever you need. Let’s talk.'

"Just Maybe" 🔒 (M) by altri_uccelli | 86,102 | "I have something to tell you," Jon says. He thought he'd have to be a little drunker to manage it, but Kaner's sitting there looking relaxed, his arms stretched out across the top of the sofa and the breeze ruffling his hair. He's become one of the most constant things in Jon's life, and Jon wonders now if all the forced closeness in the first five years, and the consequent conflicts, somehow led Jon to putting him in a friend category that he’s—they’ve—outgrown.

"Five Times Jonny Touched Patrick's Hair (and one time he didn't)" 🔒 (T) by altri_uccelli | 709 | “You gotta be more careful, man,” the text said, with a link to tumblr. Jonny grimaced; if it was another of those stupid cats saying stupid misspelled...he froze. It was them, a gif of them at the awards, and... He stared at it. He didn’t even remember.

"Same Time, Same Place" 🔒 (E) by brutti_ma_buoni | 15,576 | It should be a one-off, an awkward airport first meeting that goes nowhere. But this one goes somewhere. Back to Jonny's, for a start. It shouldn't go any further, a one-nighter with no strings, and plenty of reasons for Patrick not to go back there. But Patrick won't let it go. It should be a disaster, a mismatch, a scandal, a shoddy secret regret. But... maybe not?

"You and Me" (E) by my99centdreams | 4,696 | Pat and Jonny are sweethearts.

"Baby, You're the One" 🔒 (M) by jezziejay | 6,049 | 6k words of Jonathan Toews having feelings about babies. And feelings about Kaner. And feelings about putting a baby in Kaner.

"Q and A" 🔒 (T) by jezziejay | 1,464 | Which would you rather,” Patrick says one rainy night in November. “Be able to run a hundred miles an hour or be able to fly?” Jonny turns in the bed a little. “Why isn't one of those options go to sleep?” Patrick sighs. “Bear with me, Jonny. I'm going somewhere with this.”

"Ice-cream Castles in the Air" 🔒 (M) by jezziejay | 27,013 | This end of Buffalo smells like it always has - too hot, too stiffling, too saturating. Patrick finds Jonny almost exactly where he last left him five years ago, as if suspended in time. (or the sweet home alabama au)

"Occasionally" 🔒 (M) by jezziejay | 3,655 | Occasionally, Jonny has sex with Kaner. On special occasions.

"Castles" 🔒 (E) by thefourofswords | 3,666 | In 2007, Jonathan Toews disappeared. Fifteen years later Patrick finds him again.

"Start Again" 🔒 (T) by trademarkgiggle | 4,268 | Patrick's never been sure if Jonny's retirement plans have room for him or not.

"Three" 🔒 (E) by Linsky | 18,469 | Patrick doesn’t think he’s a pervert. But how would he know? Maybe a pervert is just a thing you are, and it doesn’t feel any different from being a normal person, until you do something perverted. Maybe that’s him. After all, he does have two names on his wrist.

"under starlight" 🔒 (E) by tarcanza | 16,236 | Jonny stretches like a cat, all lithe and limber, bringing a hand to scratch lazily against his stomach. “Truth or dare, Peeks?” Jonny asks, eyes slitted open, peering up from under his lashes. He’s sprawled all loose on the bed, leaning back on his elbows, back arched enough that Patrick can see the hard press of his nipples through the thin white cotton of his shirt. Thighs spread a little wide—a suggestion.

"A Very Good Bad Idea" (E) by 🔒 Linsky | 2,981 | Patrick doesn’t think before he takes the screenshot.

"They're Writing Songs of Love (But Not for Me)" 🔒 (E) by Linsky | 34,208 | It’s a little raised piece of plastic on the underside of his wrist, parallel to the veins and about the size of a razor’s head. Patrick would expect it to get broken in two seconds in a hockey game, except that it seems to be made of some kind of indestructible material that never cracks. It has a little inset screen where numbers can display like on an old digital watch, and in theory, those numbers count down the days until he meets his soulmate. Patrick’s has been blank his entire life.

"Words get tangled up in good intentions" 🔒 (E) by mermaid | 5,564 | They've been hooking up for more than a year, undefined and mostly unspoken, when Johnny first speaks French in bed with Kaner.

"When I Say When" (E) by anonymous | 5,431 | Patrick gets back from Switzerland and lets Jonny reclaim some territory.

"It's You Next To Me (And It Is Me Beside You)"🔒 (M) by Tirsh | 782 | Pat’s all pouty and stompy and muttering under his breath while he throws shit in an overnight bag because he’s leaving for Nashville in the morning and Jonny is, well, Jonny is not doing any of those things.

"You Will Always Be the Rest of Me" 🔒 (M) by Tirsh | 4,459 | Reaching the couch, Jonny threads his fingers into the soft curls at Pat’s nape and leans in, pressing his lips to Pat’s, soft and sweet, before asking, “How ya doin’?” Pat is ready with a pissy ‘it was two days asshole’ on the tip of his tongue, but then he looks at Jonny who looks flat out exhausted. And worried. And really fucking great, because he’s still Jonny and Pat can feel the tension he didn’t even realize he was carrying bleeding out of his neck and shoulders as Jonny’s fingers work their magic, so he sighs and goes instead with the truth. “Better, now you’re home.”

"Together in this Place" (E) by joyfulseeker | 12,952 | Practice is another reassuring mix of faces Patrick knows, drills he understands, Coach’s calls from the side. It feels good, like he’s flexing muscles that had gone tired and unused while he was over in Europe. He and Jonny are put on opposite sides playing keep-away, and he feels easier and easier on the ice, his pads and helmet a familiar weight on his body. He is going to light it up this season.

"Your Daddy's Aim Is True" 🔒 (E) by thefourthvine | 14,896 | And then he sees Johnny, who is crazy-eyed and holding a tiny infant. "What the fuck -" Patrick starts, and all three adults in the room look up and hiss at him in scary unison. The tiny infant in Johnny's arms starts wailing. The sound makes Patrick want to kill someone.

"Fizzle" (E) by cupstealer | 4,338 | Jonny pretty much knows when he’s playing well. Pat likes to tell him anyways.

"What I'm Trying to Say" (E) by cupstealer | 4,256 | Patrick loses his voice for a few weeks in the summer.

"do it like they do on the discovery channel" 🔒 (E) by hazel | 11,251 | It turns out that buddyfucking your best friend without shit getting weird requires constant vigilance.

"The Importance of Swimming in Clear Water" 🔒 (E) by turningterrific | 25,019 | One week during the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Games are lost, opposing captains are concussed, feelings are recognized, TV is watched, naps are shared, games are won. In other words, it's a big week.

"the courtship of patrick kane" 🔒 (E) by hazel | 9,673 | “Well,” Kaner says finally. “If you want to keep cockblocking me with the ladies, you’re gonna have to make it worth my while.” He’s smirking like it’s a challenge, like he knows Jon can’t ever let a challenge drop, and that’s it. That’s how Jon realises that he’s totally, completely, embarrassingly head-over-heels in love with Patrick fucking Kane.

"Royal Blue" (E) by cupstealer | 52,038 | Patrick and Jonny haven't been close friends in six years. Nothing a little friendly competition can't fix.

"it’s you and me moving at the speed of light" 🔒 (E) by anonymous | 3,795 | “Come on,” he says, voice breaking as Jonny closes his mouth over Patrick’s neck. “Show me how much you liked my goal.” No one’s ever argued against the fact that he’s got an arrogant streak, so it’s probably a good thing Jonny matches him in that respect, too. “I’d have liked it more if it’d been one of three."

"Make His Brown Eyes Blue" 🔒 (T) by jezziejay | 8,802 | Jonny's an FBI agent. Patrick's on the Most Wanted list. Occasionally they tie each other up and make out.

"If I'm Crazy, It's You and Me Both" (E) by thefourofswords | 2,024 | It would be different if Jonny were an unknown to everybody else. If Patrick’s entire history with him wasn’t so visible and public. Maybe he could’ve hidden it better. People had both expected him and Jonny to be something and simultaneously thought it was never going to happen, because surely if it could have, it would have. Patrick got it, he’d been there himself. People were naturally curious as to what finally tipped the scales.

"Separate the Game from the Truth" (E) by cupstealer | 3,459 | The singing is a constant thing. Jonny’s theory is that it’s just something to keep Kaner's mouth and part of his brain busy, because it’s all the damn time. Lyrics seem to stick to his brain the way stats do. Jonny’s gotten used to it; it’s mostly easy to ignore. Mostly.

"Full Service" (E) by joyfulseeker | 3,015 | "Walk me through your stretch-out thing. You've done it enough, I bet you can show me what to do." Jonny swings his feet to the floor. “Okay,” Patrick says slowly.

"On the Line" (E) by anonymous | 26,788 | In which Kaner finds out Jonny wants to fuck him and is pretty okay with that turn of events. Phone sex, picnic baskets, crazy eyes, hockey and insanity ensue.

"Hockeysexual" (E) by thefourofswords | 14,445 | Kaner and Tazer might be the straightest straight dudes to ever straight. They want to bone each other anyway.

"I Know For Sure" 🔒 (M) by turningterrific | 32,972 | Patrick laughs. “Oh, so we’re allowed to make fun of it then? Cause I’ve gotta say—” “No,” Jackie says, turning to him just as two wolves go flying through the air to attack each other laughably. “We get to make fun of it. Just like we get to make fun of you. But no one else gets to make fun of you, because you’re our dumb brother, and we love you.” Erica and Jessica choose that moment to enter without knocking, loudly pushing and shoving for a place on the couch, smacking him on the thigh until he scoots over far enough for their liking. “So I’m the ‘Teen Wolf’ of brothers?” Patrick asks, for clarification. The girls all share a look and then burst out laughing.

"Irreplaceable" (M) by anonymous | 23,631 | Pat has seen Jonny naked of course. He’s seen him in less dignifying moments than he would care to admit. And on a far more regular basis. Which is why he laughs out loud when he skims through the July edition of the Blackhawks magazine that he’s found lying around in his living room and gets hung up on the monthly section of “pick a teammate”. Jonathan Toews having the best tattoo? A solid lie. Patrick knows Kopecky, and he can practically see him laughing his ass off while sending his bullshit answers to the editor. Good one. He chuckles, turns the page, and forgets about it. Only he doesn’t.

"Take me to the edge so I can fall apart" 🔒 (E) by linaerys | 13,718 | Jonny's weird about his bruises, and Patrick wonders why.

"in a shower of" (M) by thisissirius | 1,389 | Jonny washes patrick's hair; Patrick doesn't hate it.

"Ode to Posterior" (E) by thisissirius | 1,398 | Jonny’s always been an ass person.

"where only we tread" (E) by thisissirius | 1,267 | “Fuck, we’re getting too old for this,” Patrick says, from somewhere under a mound of sheets. He’s fairly sure this isn’t his bed, at least not the one in Trump Tower, it’s too big and there’s an arm slung across his back. His head is pounding, and he feels slightly sick, though his constitution for holding his alcohol has improved a lot. He barely remembers the night before, just a blur of cheering, drink, music and Jonny screaming obscenities in his ear. There was the cup and - fuck. Patrick shifts on the bed, dislodging Jonny’s arm, but throws a leg over his thigh. “Wake up, asshole.”

"Stories sticking to your skin" (E) by linaerys | 7,406 | Johnny can’t stop looking at Patrick and wanting things, like to grab Patrick in front of all these people and kiss him so everyone knows that Patrick’s his. Even in this state, he knows that's not a good plan, but he’s even drunk enough and high enough on winning that he thinks it might be time to tell Patrick that he’s done sharing him with everyone else.

"love is a contact sport" 🔒 (E) by hazel & mermaid | 109,901 | And the tragic reality of Patrick's life is that even though they broke up over a year ago, he and Johnny still play beautiful hockey together.

"what i did on my summer vacation" 🔒 (E) by hazel | 8,971 | Patrick meets Johnny on his third day working at Greg’s Emporium, the summer after his freshman year of college.

"under your skin" 🔒 (E) by hazel | 5,898 | Patrick goes to bed that night in Tazer’s guest room. It’s not the first time he’s slept there, but it’s the first time he’s tried to sleep in Tazer’s body. His legs want to kick out weirdly into the corners of the bed, and his head can’t find a comfortable position on the pillow. He drops off eventually anyway, worn from the current of rage he’s been carrying around all day and the constant slow rhythm of Tazer’s heartbeat, drumming in his chest like a cage.

"a light-handed approach to regulation" 🔒 (E) by hazel | 34,078 | The Blackhawks are the first North American professional sports team to have an alpha and an omega on the roster at the same time; Patrick guesses that makes him pretty special, even if he’d rather be known for his hockey skills and not what his dick would do if he was banging an omega.

"must've lost your wits" 🔒 (E) by anonymous | 1,867 | Jonny is staring at him. Jonny – is staring at his mouth. Patrick smiles a little bit, feeling every slow moment of it; feeling strange, as though under scrutiny he has forgotten how to use his own muscles.

"He's All That" 🔒 (E) by claudine | 2,217 | “Thought you'd say no,” Kaner says, soft. “Saw that hit on you in the second.” His fingers play with the edge of Jonny's T-shirt collar, callouses skimming hot against skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Jonny resists a shiver. “Got my hip good," Jonny says. "Wanted your mouth though.”

"Generation" 🔒 (T) by altri_uccelli | 35,319 | In which Patrick’s daughter and Jonny’s son are discovered making out under Seabs’ dock at a 2010 Cup team reunion, and become a catalyst for other discoveries.

"we took the slow way" 🔒 (T) by fadeastride | 4,505 | Pat’s still thinking about all the obnoxious door-to-door things he could be when the door swings open and holy shit. He has got to be better about meeting his neighbors if more of his neighbors look like this guy.

"the show goes on" 🔒 (E) by hazel | 4,507 | “Sharing clothes now, boys?” Grace asks, while a Chevy ad plays. Johnny tenses, but Kaner just shrugs. “So?” he asks. She grins. “Nothing. It’s just so cute.” “Yeah, well,” Johnny says. “Nobody cares who I sleep with.”

"not your baby" 🔒 (E) by claudine | 975 | “We’re friends,” Kaner had explained once. “So we’re helping each other out.” Helping each other out is buying Jonny’s favorite from the sandwich store when it’s on the way. It’s going to the gym together, competing on the bike. (It’s not afterwards, when they’re sweaty and disgusting, Kaner whispering filth into Jonny’s ears.)

••••••

And that's 100.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fic recs #mens hockey rpf #Patrick Kane x Jonathan Toews #1988

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tsugarubecker · 2 years

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Popcorn: a Byler first date ficlet for @duskandwandlight 🥰

At the exact moment that fire blazes across the swimming pool on the big screen before them, an audience member’s popcorn bag explodes. The girl who was holding it shrieks. Popcorn goes flying in every direction. Chaos ensues.

Mike looks over at El across the theater. She’s sitting to Max’s right. Lucas sits to Max’s left. It’s dark in the theater, but even so, and even across the room, Mike can just barely see that Max is holding both Lucas’s hand and El’s. Mike can guess that Lucas and El were both whispering fervently into Max’s ears, explaining what was happening on screen. Under her sunglasses Max would have been rolling her unseeing eyes, but affectionately, as Max does. Audience members would have been muttering complaints about El and Lucas’s whispering. El would have gotten annoyed.

Cue the popcorn chaos.

But Mike knows that’s not the only reason for the explosion.

He didn’t have to say anything to El. She figured out on her own that this was Mike and Will’s first “official” date. (Either that, or Will told her. Which… upon reflection Mike suspects it’s that one. The two are inseparable, and have an uncanny - and annoying - ability to practically read one another’s minds. Especially after shutting down the upside down together. Real twin stuff, those two.)

Popcorn is still flying into the air and beginning to fall - Mike is still mid-glance over at El. She catches his eye. Smirks. Raises her eyebrows with intention and rolls her eyes dramatically toward the person sitting next to him.

Mike takes the hint. He turns to look at Will, who has also turned to look at El, no doubt also knowing that she was the cause of the commotion. (And probably finding that fact very funny, Mr. Let’s All Get Rich in Vegas.) Will’s face is, therefore, very close to Mike’s when Mike turns his face back the other direction. They practically smack noses in the split second during which Mike turns back around.

Time feels like it’s moving in slow motion. El did say, once, that feelings can change how it seems to be moving.

Will is now staring into his eyes. He glances down then back up. Mike doesn’t hesitate. They won’t get another chance.

He swoops in. Plants a hard and fast smooch on Will’s mouth. Swears to himself “more later” as he immediately pulls back away, already craning his head around to make sure no one saw.

They didn’t. Time seems to snap back. All the popcorn falls to the floor. The exploding-popcorn-bag-girl’s scream ends. Everyone who wasn’t already half-turned in their chairs swings around to face the source of the noise.

Mike and Will’s faces are an inch apart. They’re both grinning. No one is paying them any attention.

No one except El. She smiles, holds Max’s hand tighter. Leans over to whisper something excitedly in her ear, even as choruses of “what happened?” “is she okay?” “what’s going on?” rain down all around them.

Mike and Will see none of El’s whispering. They’re in a tiny bubble, a soft world of their own for one warm moment. Mike reaches out to hold Will’s hand under the arm rest. He leans in to whisper in Will’s ear.

“Happy first official date.” Will smiles, squeezes his boyfriend’s hand, and whispers back the same. Mike’s ear tickles.

He never knew he could be this happy.

Soon the credits roll on “The Kiss” and the five of them head home, throwing popcorn at each other all the way.

🍿✨✨✨

(Commissioned fanart here! 😍💕💕)

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a-strange-inkling · 2 years

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Official Munson Family Costumes Through the Years (Old Haunts Universe):

(In order of Eddie, Chrissy, Olivia, and Maggie)

1986 - Demon and angel

1987 - Westley and Buttercup

1988 - vampire, ghost and pumpkin

1989 - Jareth, Sarah and Toby

1990 - Han Solo, Princess Leia, an Ewok and a Jawa.

1991 - Mad Hatter, Alice, the White Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat

1992 - Captain Hook, Wendy, Peter Pan and Tinkerbell

1993 - knight, queen and two princesses

1994 - Jack, Sally, a ballerina and a fairy princess

Hmm… what will they be in 1995? 🤔

Happy Halloween, Fam! 🎃👻🐈‍⬛💀

#for lack of any halloween content 🥲#they were tired in 1988 lol #new parents #1994 was when olivia and maggie went rogue from the group costumes 😭#eddissy #munningham #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer #chrissy x eddie #hellcheer fanfiction #hellcheer fanfic #old haunts #hellcheer halloween #hellcheer week 2022 #hellcheer week #hellcheeroween lol

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samanthaswishes · 11 months

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New Fic Alert!

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?" was a question that had plagued Daisy's mind since she was young. What once was a somber question turned into something that made Daisy realize that there is still a chance for so much to happen in her lifetime. Happy 35th Birthday Daisy Johnson ~ July 2, 1988

It's still the 2nd here in California, so I got this fic in on time!

#aos fanfic #aos fanfiction #writing #writer #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #daisy johnson #agents of shield #aos #best day ever #happy birthday daisy johnson #july 2nd 1988

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myers-meadow · 9 months

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Dinner with Hans Gruber

There he was, sitting opposite of you at the small restaurant table. It’s been a while. It’s a nice restaurant, in regal building with high ceilings and impeccably dressed staff. He always likes to spoil you when he’s back from a mission.

Smiling softly, he looks at you, really looks at you, taking in every detail. A waiter comes to the table, ready to take your orders, but after seeing the way the two of you sit there, with no regard for him, menus untouched, he backs off.

“Mein Herz,” is all Hans says, his deep voice sending a jolt down your spine.

You smile gently and extend your hand to his, entwining your fingers. He plays with your rings, still drinking you in. Soft string music plays, the candle in between the two of you flickers. He choose this place well; romantic, luxurious yet cosy. The murmur of people dining and enjoying themselves only empathise the comfortable silence at your table.

“Sometimes I fear I will forget the sound of your voice,” you say.

“I’ll take you with me, next time,” Hans promises, his smile makes his eyes crease with crow’s feet. “I’m glad to see you’ve been well.”

It’s always felt like there was something special between him and you, something you were never able to find with anyone else. It shows in his perceptiveness, how he doesn’t need you to tell him what’s on your mind, that you’ve missed him while he was away or what you’d like for your birthday. He just knows. After being together this long, you’ve learnt to pay attention to him the same; right now he’s glad to see you again. He missed you. His gig went well, but he disliked the smog of the big city. Most of all, he looks forward to slipping into comfortable anonymity with you.

The waiter returns and this time you do order.

#hans gruber #hans gruber x reader #die hard #die hard (1988)#alan rickman characters #hans gruber imagine #die hard fanfic #die hard fanfiction #alan rickman character x reader #alan rickman #villain x reader

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atlasvulcandar · 1 year

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a study in desire (heathers fic)

Heather calls the girl and clings to every word she says, even if the most Veronica will ever say is one word, she will cling to that one word like her life depends on it. Chandler could have asked anything from Veronica, anything at all at any time she wanted. But she doesn’t. She wonders if this is what love is, but she shakes her head and hangs up.

Or, the desire for power, told by Heather Chandler herself.

#heathers fanfiction #heather chandler #veronica sawyer #chansaw #heathers 1988 #song fic #heathers #my fanfics

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corinneecrivaine · 10 months

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Kit and Jade Fanfiction

The Day You Healed My Soul

Queer romance

Part 1

Kit was standing at the grave of her late beloved.

Unprotected, the rain poured down on her face and mingled with her tears. The storm rumbled as powerfully as the beating of her heart in her chest, as if it wanted to leave this battered soul and seek refuge elsewhere. Far, far away from this cursed place of sadness. She placed a final kiss with her hand on the epitaph next to her love's name, "Emma Mills beloved February 17, 2000-March 15, 2023", and left without looking back.

*******

Arriving at Lyon St Exupéry airport, Kit made her way to the check-in counter. The hostess was smiling and soft-spoken.

- Nice destination for a nice vacation.

- Thank you. (Kit replied with a smile).

After security checks, she made her way to the gate and waited. The call came over the loudspeakers:

"Passengers for Tropical Airlines flight to The Brightly Stars island, boarding now at gate 7".

A final check of papers and boarding pass, and she was off. No turning back.

She gazed out of the plane's window at the cloudy expanse, thinking of her childhood, her life, what she was leaving behind, not knowing what she would find.

Her thought for the love of her life.

She had been happy with every moment she spent with Emma. She was so sweet in her way of being and expressing herself, so smiling and soothing. Emma was a wonderful young woman, always looking for the positive side in life and in people. When Kit was in her presence, she didn't feel the need to talk; her company was enough for her. A simple glance and they understood each other. Everything about her brought her joy. She filled some of the void left by the absence of a father. Her father had abandoned her at birth. She never knew the real reason for his departure. Unaware of where he might be, somewhere in this vast world. Emma was always there, supporting her in all her decisions, even if at times they disagreed and their relationship was sometimes stormy.

When the doctors diagnosed her illness, the world collapsed, the earth cracked and the abyss swallowed her up. She was so young, only 23. Kit took care of her as best she could, but she watched her deteriorate with each passing month. Feeling completely helpless, useless, impotent, she had no power to heal her. She wasn't one of those superheroes. She was just Kit.

Life often reminds us that we are but a few things in this immensity.

A few tears rolled down her cheeks, which she wiped away with a wave of her hand. She'd grown up with the absence of a father, now she'd have to live with the absence of her Beloved, who left a gaping hole in her heart and ripped out part of her soul.

Perhaps this new place she was heading to would bring her what she'd always been looking for ? Maybe she'd find a Band-Aid for the scars not only on her body, which she hid with a bandage on her right arm, but also on her soul.

The stewardess approached her and gently asked if she wanted something to eat or drink. She declined with a smile, put on her headphones and closed her eyes, lulled by the music to escap

A total of 15 hours in the air before reaching our destination. It had been a long journey, but Kit had taken the opportunity to write his gratitude journal and his novel before falling asleep.

The captain's voice came over the loudspeakers.

"Madam, Sir, we are arriving at The Tropical Airport. In view of our imminent landing we invite you to return to your seats and fasten your seat belts. Please ensure that your hand luggage is located under the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Doors and exits must remain clear of luggage. The weather at The Brightly Stars island is sunny and the temperature is 31°. We wish you a wonderful stay."

Kit hadn't chosen this destination at random. Emma had always wanted to go to The Brightly Stars island for their wedding night, she joked. She wanted to spend a few months or more there. They'd talked about it for days, planning their stay and laughing together about the time they'd spend in this heavenly place. This was the promise they made to each other when Emma fell ill. What the young woman never knew was that Kit had every intention of proposing to her. But fate decided otherwise. She had bought the ring, which she now kept as a necklace, closest to her heart.

After his death and a long period of hesitation, Kit did some research and answered an advertisement from a restaurant owner who was looking for an employee to run the bar. She was no stranger to this kind of job, having worked as a barmaid to pay for her literary studies. Three months passed before she made her decision and the owner responded and accepted her application. Three empty, lonely months. Three long months of not hearing Emma's voice, not feeling her presence, listening to her sing and laugh. Three months of returning to this house deprived of life, warmth and love. Having had several video interviews with the manager, his wife and their daughter. Explaining to them a tiny part of the reasons why she had made this choice. The remote interviews were simple, natural and spontaneous.

Despite her suffering, she remained a jovial person, always smiling and pleasant. It was only a facade, the light that hides the darkness but cannot eternally hide the shadow that follows her.

The Tropical Airport was nothing like those huge airports where you could easily get lost if you weren't used to traveling. It had a single runway and a single terminal.

As soon as the plane landed and reached the boarding gate, Kit presented herself to an agent for a passport check and headed for the baggage carousel. Once she'd retrieved her suitcase, she headed for the exit, where a young girl with tousled red hair was waiting for her with her name on a sign. She greeted her with a beautiful, expressive smile.

- Hi, I'm Jade.

- Hello, Kit.

- Did you have a good trip? Not too long?

- It was fine. I've been busy.

Jade spoke with a benevolence in her voice, soothing and serene that she could reassure anyone beside her. So majestic in her light outfit, an orange T-shirt and white shorts. And those deep, kindly eyes that Kit could lose herself in. Enchanted by her fine face, with its tanned complexion and freckles that gave her a little charm, her long, autumn-colored hair embellished her natural beauty.

- I'll take you to your lodgings. You can get some rest.

Jade's parents had left her an apartment. Of course, Kit paid rent, a modest sum, so as not to owe them anything. That was her choice. She'd grown up fending for herself. Asking for and accepting help was not part of her life skills.

When the young girl saw the car in which Jade was going to take her home, she couldn't hide her amazement.

Jade: What!

Kit: Nothing.

A 1964 Beetle, rainbow-blue convertible, the body all painted with multicolored flowers, on the doors the letters "Love" inscribed in pink, on the hood the yellow peace logo, above the inscriptions, "Flowers" in pink, below, "Power" in red. The letters O in the shape of daisies. Inside, everything was original: white cloth seats, no electric windows, no Bluetooth or GPS, a vintage steering wheel and gearbox. Only the car radio had been modified.

Jade took the luggage and placed it in the trunk at the front of the vehicle.

- You'll see, you don't need technology here to be happy.

Jade spoke jovially, with that wonderful infectious smile that gave her such charm. She picked up her USB key.

- One of my buddies adapted the car radio. I'm not that obsolete. Kit smiled.

And off they went to Kit's new home to the music of Bob Marley.

« One Love. One Heart. Let's get together and feel all right. »

Joyful and smiling, Jade began to hum.

Arriving at the apartment, Kit took the keys, which Jade handed her.

- Here. You're home. I hope you settle in well. I'll pick you up around 7pm. We'll eat out with my parents. See you then.

- See you then.

Getting ready to leave, Jade turned around : By the way, the WIFI codes are on the coffee table. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me.

Kit smiled at her : Thank you.

The girl looked around quickly and sighed.

The apartment was pleasant, with a large living room, very bright thanks to the balcony overlooking the ocean, a kitchenette, separated by a charcoal worktop which also served as a dining table, a bedroom and the bathroom. The apartment was furnished and decorated simply enough. A brown sofa on top of which were two paintings, one a sketch of a wolf and the other a black panther. A wooden coffee table, a wood-colored wall unit, the TV in the middle and various black knick-knacks depicting dolphins, French bulldogs and artificial plants.

The first thing she did, once alone, was to pick up her computer and turn it on. The photo on the welcome screen was magnificent. A portrait of Emma, a beautiful woman with long, wavy chestnut hair, a radiant smile and a gaze like an ember, radiant with sincerity and kindness of spirit.

- Here we are, my sweet. I promise you, I'm going to enjoy every moment this place brings me, I'm going to do the planning we decided on together. I don't know if I made the right choice or not. But I'll always be able to come home, I've kept our apartment. I miss you terribly. I love you.

She placed a kiss on the photo with her hand and closed the computer. Before getting ready, she called her mother on Face Time to reassure her.

- Hello daughter, how are you ?

- I'm fine, Mom. I'm all settled in. The place is nice. I've got an ocean view. Take a look. (She took a tour of the apartment by video). Tonight I'm having dinner with her parents and I think I'll start work tomorrow.

- It's a nice little place you've got here.

- You'll come and see me.

- Yes, I will. Take care my girl. I love you, honey.

- I love you, Mom. I'll call you tomorrow.

Sorsha was a woman of strong character but great tenderness for her daughter. She raised her daughter as best she could, coping with an absent husband. She made mistakes, but always tried to be there, to protect her at all costs, to support her in her choices, even if she sometimes disagreed with her decisions. When Emma died, Sorsha felt completely devastated by the loss of this wonderful young woman and the terrible suffering of her daughter. She felt helpless and didn't know how to help. So, when Kit decided to go away for a while, she accepted her choice, even though it tore at her heart. If that was the way to ease the pain.

The night fell fairly quickly in the Caribbean between 5:30 and 6:30 pm. When Jade rang the doorbell at 7pm, it was already dark outside. The girl had changed into a pair of black canvas pants with a white belt and a matching crop top, which made her look rather sexy. As for Kit, she was dressed in a pair of light-blue bootcut jeans tied at the waist with a wide black belt and a white crop top that didn't leave Jade indifferent.

- Are you ready ?

- Ready.

- Okay. Let's go.

The temperature was quite mild and pleasant.

The moon's rays were forming thousands of pearls that glistened on the ocean's surface and drifted along the water's edge. Kit was filled with wonder, and paused for a moment to admire this image straight out of a fantasy tale. - Is it beautiful? asked Jade.

- It is indeed. Is that why this place is called Pearl Beach?

Jade smiled.

- Yes and no.

When their eyes met, Jade's intense stare unnerved her. Kit turned her eyes back to the ocean.

- There's a legend that in ancient times, when sailors were about to set sail for long months or even years, the day before, the ocean would give birth to a unique pearl for each sailor. They would offer this pearl to their suitors. In exchange, each would promise to wait for her lover's return and marry him.

- What if he doesn't come back ?

- I don't know. She'd probably keep the pearl and find herself another suitor. Jade was amused by this answer.

The restaurant was about a 10-minute walk from Kit's home. Jade lived nearby, as did her parents. When she arrived, the young woman was seduced by the magical, sumptuous setting. The decor perfectly reflected the restaurant's name: The Shinning Sun, and created a unique atmosphere that took her back to a fairytale world. A ceiling of orange-colored hanging lights created a hypnotic sunny sky, accentuating the contrast between the brightness of the restaurant's interior and the natural lighting of the moon. Jade watched her, silent, and saw in her eyes the fascination she felt for this enchanting place. She let her gaze soak up the splendor that warmed her heart and soul.

Emma would have loved this place, as would the legend of the pearls, which would have made her laugh. A great dreamer and believer in magic, she would have given one of those famous pearls to Kit and asked her if she would have waited for her. Oh yes, she would have waited for her. She would have treasured the pearl until she returned. She felt a twinge of regret.

- Hello, young lady.

- Hello, Mr. Claymore.

- Forget "sir." Call me Kael.

It was incredible, Jade had the same physical features as her father. Tangled, red hair, intense eyes. He was so striking with his imposing build and the way he looked at her. So deeply that she felt he was peering into her soul. It was both unsettling and awe-inspiring.

Would her father have been like this man? Prestigious, charismatic, clear-voiced, poised, a pleasure to listen to ? He fascinated her as much as he impressed her.

Mrs. Claymore arrived from the kitchen, carrying a cast-iron pot and placing it on the table. - I've prepared a typical local dish for you: shrimp dombrés. These are little flour dumplings cooked in a spicy sauce of tomatoes and chillies, served with rice.

The spice mixture smelled wonderful. Those culinary smells that Kit relished.

Melissa Claymore invited her to sit down, and the young girl found herself seated next to Jade and facing the father.

When she tasted it, an explosion of flavors intoxicated her taste buds. It was delicious.

- It's really good. Kit raved.

- Mom is the best cook.

- My daughter exaggerates all the time.

- I'd say she's right. Kit replied with a smile.

Jade's mom was a lovely woman with long, straight black hair and matte skin. The tenderness in her voice, her beautiful smile and her gentle gaze were qualities that Emma possessed and that she found in Jade.

Kael said nothing, but kept looking at Kit intently. Her eyes fell on the bandage on her right arm.

- I hope, young lady, that this little corner of paradise brings you what you came for.

Kit was so embarrassed by Jade's father's words that she didn't know what to say. Melissa came to her aid.

- Come on, Kael, don't start bothering her. If you were talking about the hours.

- Service starts at 11:30 a.m. and runs until 2 p.m., and in the evenings from 6:30 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. or even 11 p.m., depending. We're closed on Sundays and Mondays. So you've got tomorrow off. If you need anything, don't hesitate.

- I need to rent a car and do some shopping.

Jade offered to accompany her.

- Oh, I'll drive you to the races tomorrow.

- We can lend you a car we're not using.

Melissa turned to her husband, who agreed, but Kit didn't want to overstay her welcome.

Kael insisted.

- Do you plan to visit our island during your stay ?

The young girl hesitated before answering Mrs. Claymore.

She refused to reveal the real reasons that had brought her to The Brightly Stars island. - In fact, I've made myself an itinerary that I've promised to follow in memory of... someone I've lost.

Melissa didn't hide her sadness at these words.

Jade's father spoke calmly but firmly.

- Bring your itinerary tomorrow, we'll see together. I'll give you some advice.

Their kindness and welcome touched her deeply. Seeing Jade's parents so united, she would have loved to have grown up in such a family environment. She had no idea why her father had abandoned them. Her mother refused to discuss this painful subject. Whenever she tried, the discussion ended in an argument. She was desperate for answers to her questions. Had he left because of her ? Was she a child he didn't want ?

The meal was drawing to a close. Before leaving, Kit thanked her hosts. Melissa called out to her.

- Come and have breakfast with us tomorrow morning, at first light. It's a wonderful sight to see.

Jade saw her off.

- Your parents are very attentive.

- Oh, they have their own character: my mother is sweet and my father can be a bit abrupt, but you'll see, he's a real Teddy bear.

Arriving at her lodgings, Jade left her.

- By the way, the sun rises at 5 o'clock.

Kit was stunned. Jade was amused.

When she closed the front door, she leaned against the wall and sighed.

- 5 o'clock... What did I get myself into, Emma ?

At the restaurant, Kael spoke to his wife.

- That little girl needs help.

- I'm sure she does.

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streets-in-paradise · 2 years

Text

Best Friends Till the End - Andy Barclay x (fem) Childhood Friend!Reader Part 1

Masterlist

Word Count 5 K

Relationships: (platonical) child!Andy Barclay x child!Reader.

Characters: child!Andy Barclay, child!Reader, Chucky/Charles Lee Ray.

Warnings: Rewriting of the first film taking a few detours, a mix of characterizations between Child’s Play 1 Chucky and Curse!Charles Lee Ray. Explaining why the Pierce family was never mentioned before Curse, I imagined Child's Play 1 Chucky thought he killed Sarah and Nica.

Summary: The birthday sleepover of your best friend and neighbor ends up abruptly after his babysitter suffers an accident. Attributing it to a local boogeyman, you try to convince Andy of investigating the matter like a Scooby Doo mystery untill you realize you may have stepped into something worse when his talking doll admits the guilt.

Notes: This is going to be a two parts childhood friends to lovers story. Kinda like in IT, part one is about Andy and the reader facing Chucky as kids and part 2 will follow their reunion as adults.

Tags: @losersclubisms

Karen almost forgot to tell Maggie that you were coming over for a sleepover, only children invited to Andy’s birthday because you were his only friend. Finding out at the last hour that there were actually two children to babysit was not a nice surprise, but you two were frankly adorable. It was pretty easy to notice you were lonely kids watching too much television, craving for playing buddies and being very happy at any chance you had around each other.

The one year and months of difference in your ages didn’t become an obstacle for your bonding, but played out a separation on school time because you were still in kindergarten. Andy didn’t mind that and you would tag along with him on any game.

It was heartwarming and heartbreaking to see you share excitement over the possibility of finding new companions. Andy introduced you to his new toy friend with the purest joy, as if he was truly introducing a third party to your little group for play dates. You confidently activated his catchphrase, remarking that your cousins taught you how because they had two dolls like that one, then proceeded to ramble about your unborn sibling and how you all would be playing together once the baby would be old enough to follow you. The circumstantial babysitter got the impression that Chucky was making you feel a bit jealous, as if you feared Andy could be forgetting you for paying too much attention to him, but she also had some unusual fun observing your exaggerated mannerisms.

At some given moment you were playing in separate areas of the place: Andy and Chucky were constructor workers, a blue helmet of the Good Guy brand on the doll’s head as the kid was teaching him how to use the hammer and blocks of wood. Meanwhile, remaining close to her as she handled the cake leftovers in the kitchen, you were the waiting wife ironing the back of a jacket with a pink toy iron

“ I wonder when my husband will come back home?” You commented to her as if Maggie was another housewife from the fictional neighborhood. “ Andy is never late for dinner, I bet this is on Chucky. Since he is here he barely looks at me.”

She seriously wondered where did you hear that from. Soap operas? Married with Children? The mindless repetition of things you saw being included in your games made you sound like a little child actor, which was definitely a bit lovely.

The boy only pretended that he didn’t hear you, talking to Chucky as if they were at work. Since neither of you really understood what you were saying, he would just look at you and laugh at the mention of his name. Then, he would whisper secretively to the doll and that would make your acting escalate.

“ Maggie… Am I not attractive anymore? He is always going out with his new friend, he doesn't care if I am here.”

Peggy Bundy venting to her neighbor Marcy. Seeing a four to be five girl enacting that shouldn’t be funny, but it was. The part of her that was a bit horrified made Maggie remember it was bedtime, to which she told you both to get ready.

That simple action made Andy come up with an odd complaint.

“ Aunt Maggie, Chucky wants to watch the 9’ o clock news.”

The occurrence amused her.

“ Sure, he does.”

You abandoned the spiteful character, not needing it outside of the game, and sweetly tried to comfort the doll into understanding why he shouldn’t ask that.

“ It is too scary, Chucky. Mommy and daddy were watching the news and they were speaking of this very bad man that sends people to heaven. They don’t know his face, just like the boogeyman, and daddy said that if I am bad he is gonna come to get me.”

The only adult there found your tale disturbing.

“ That is a very bad joke, but I am sure your dad was just kidding.”

“ Don’t worry, (y/n). Chucky is brave and I am a big boy.” Your friend comforted you. “ Tell me when it is scary and I’m going to cover you like this”

He covered your eyes with his hands and you two laughed.

Maggie picked Andy up and turned off the tv. While obediently following them you were supposed to pick up Chucky, but you didn’t rush to do it immediately as the boy would have expected. You didn’t want to do it because the doll said something really rude to you for picking the side of Andy’s aunt. You weren’t sure of what being a little bitch meant, but you didn’t like it.

While waiting your turn to brush your teeth, you were unpacking your sleeping bag in your friend's bedroom when you saw Chucky rush to the living room to turn on the tv. If there was one thing you learned quickly about him, it was that he didn't like when things wouldn't go his way and he didn't mind getting you all in trouble for his mischief.

Maggie found you trying to stop him and that made her think you did it, no matter how many times you told her it was Chucky. Even though Andy backed up your story, she wouldn't believe any of you. She got angry, thinking that you were being bad.

You weren't, Chucky was, but maybe that wouldn't stop the man of the news from coming after you. The room was dark and your sleeping bag wouldn't let you cover all the way to your head, it wouldn't let you hide.

" Andy, Andy!!" You cried out for your friend's help. " Your aunt thinks we were bad... What if he comes to get us??"

He didn't answer, but another voice did.

" I'm going to handle that, just shut the fuck up you annoying little bitch."

That didn't make you calm down, Chucky was making everything worse. He wasn't in the mood to pretend niceness and the fact that he was struggling to get out from Andy's covers didn't help.

The pathetic sobbing was exasperating him, you were terrified.

" You can't, the Lake Man will come because you turned on the tv. "

When you spoke about that before he was too into his own concerns to pay real attention, but then he had nothing else distracting him from the realization.

He threw a happy, but bone chilling cackle that nearly woke Andy up.

" .... Are you scared of the Lakeshore Strangler?" He asked you, trying so hard to fight the satisfaction in his voice. Never before it occurred to him that he could be some child's boogeyman.

" Why don't you tell me what you heard about him?

The news report you saw was from before the cops identified him. The name Charles Lee Ray meant shit to you, but you were scared of him as some faceless evil.

Excellent news: scared children were easier to manipulate. From then he identified you as the weak element of the duo.

" Take the freaking covers away from me if you want to live."

Maybe he got too excited about causing fear in you. For an instant, he forgot that you didn't know he was the Strangler.

" Listen, (y/n). I can't protect you if I am stuck here and that is what my friend Andy wants me to do. Get me out and i am going to keep watch in case the Lake Man shows up."

" What if we are asleep and he gets to you first?"

" Bitch I am immortal!" Chucky bragged, too full of himself. " This body is made of plastic, I don't have lungs. That means i can't be strangled to death, but you can, so GET ME OUT"

The slight elevation on his voice volume, product of the annoyance, finally woke up Andy for real. Hearing you speaking with Chucky got him excited, you were his best friends and he wanted you to get along.

Feeling you pulling the doll out made him stare at you with some happy pride.

" I told you he would look after us. "

The empty spot Chucky left ended up occupied by you. Andy allowed you to jump into his bed and you rushed to hide underneath the covers.

" Don't. " The boy stopped you. " I will not let anything bad come to you, I promise."

He kissed your forehead and you hugged him.

" I love you, Andy. You are my best friend in the whole world."

" I love you too... and I bet Chucky loves you. Don't you, Chucky?"

" Sure, kiddo.Whatever you say, just go back to sleep. "

A nice detective took you back to your apartment that night because something horrible happened to Maggie while you were asleep. You told him that it had to be the Lake Man, but he didn't believe you. Your mom explained to him what you were talking about and he said that was impossible because he took him down. You didn't believe that, boogeymans can't be killed.

Hugging your mom and talking to your sister in her belly, you repeated the same promise Andy did to you. The detective playfully asked you, as many adults before did, how you were so sure she was going to be a girl. You just did, it didn't matter how many times your dad claimed the baby was going to be a boy because he wanted so. No one would convince you otherwise.

Picking up your Scooby Doo plushie as your protector for the rest of the night helped you start imagining the situation as an episode of your favorite show and that made you feel a bit better. That man didn't believe you because cops never do at first. Every time the gang stumbles with a mystery they do things on their own, being told that they are just kids.

At that moment you were just like Shaggy: very scared and hugging Scooby because you weren't feeling brave enough to face the monster. Andy, your brave friend, was like Fred. He would be coming up with a plan to catch the bad guy. There had to be a masked man, maybe someone wanted to scare you all into leaving the building because they wanted to buy it and they invented the Lake Man. Maybe all the persons that were thought gone would reappear somewhere, even Aunt Maggie.

' And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids and your toys. ' The villain would say after you would unmask him while revisiting his spooky plan. The toys were the dogs: you had Scooby and Chucky was like Scrappy Doo because he was tiny, feisty and disobedient.

Maybe a bit scary too, he said a lot of bad words. No other Good Guy you saw before spoke like him. You wanted to like Chucky, but he scared you. There was something in his voice that made you feel wrong, hearing him in the dark made you want to cry. Andy was older than you, maybe that was why he didn't got scared as easily as you. That was why you felt you couldn't tell him, you feared he would think you were too little to play with him. Chucky frightened you, but thinking that Andy could want to stop being friends with you because you didn't like him scared you more.

The next time you saw them was at your apartment and then you were ready. Scooby and your Mystery Machine car toy were placed in front of the tv and you were going to watch the old episodes your mom recorded for you.

She didn't notice anything strange, just the two of you whispering things to each other while watching. Chucky laughed weird again once, but she couldn't hear because she was bussy doing something else.

From all the funny things happening in all the episodes you watched, the Chant of Manba Wanga was the only thing Chucky seemed to have found funny. It wasn't, not for you at least, because it was clearly meant to be a scary moment. His creepy laugh made you jump towards Andy, grabbing his arm tightly as if you were begging for protection. You were as scared as Shaggy and Scooby were when Mamba Wanga was casting his voodoo curse on Layla and your fear only encouraged Chucky's bad behavior. He was having fun scaring you, probably thought Andy would find it funny.

By the end of the episode, when all the persons touched by the curse and assumed disappeared were found, you spoke to your friend about your own mystery. You told him that maybe the Lake Man was like Mamba Wanga, the Green Ghost or the Black Knight, that all you had to do was solve the mystery.

" We have to find the masked man, that will make Maggie come back. "

Chucky looked at the boy, waiting for him to crush your hope.

" (y/n), there is no mystery. it wasn't the Lake Man, Chucky did it. "

You didn't know what to think anymore.

" My bad, the bitch is gone. " The doll admitted to you without hesitation. " You know, I noticed your dad is a real asshole, since he came back from work all he does is bitching because you are watching cartoons. He was the one who scared you with that thing on the news, right? But he doesn't listen to you and I don't think he really cares. I bet your dumb mom thinks that baby is going to save the marriage, but that dude doesn't feel shit for her. "

He shouldn't have said that to you, but he couldn't help himself. Chucky got to know your family and found out you were like a dysfunctional photocopy of the Pierces. Cute talky little girl, pregnant mom: the main flaw on the picture was your daddy. It was very easy to see that he was an emotionally distant husband who wouldn't win the father of the year award anyways. Everything Sarah's husband did right, your papa seemed to do wrong. He was more a manchild than a family man, someone who you weren't seeking for support or protection.

" ... Wouldn't it be nice if he would be gone too?"

Dead father jokes were upsetting for Andy too, so he had to stop. Yet, deep down, he wanted you to say yes just to deviate from his path a little and kill that man off. Two deaths in the same building would have dragged too much attention, the only thing that saved your father was Chucky's own convenience. He couldn't indulge in killing him, not if that would be an obstacle for his personal revenge on the people who screwed him over in life.

You both were seeking explanations on his part, starting to get suspicious about him.

"Chucky, why did you kill Aunt Maggie?" Andy straightfoldy confronted him once you were all in the safety of your room.

" I told you: she was a real bitch and got what she deserved."

That didn't seem to be enough for you.

"Or maybe you are just bad." You exclaimed, still hurt because you heard him say he wanted to kill your dad.

It wasn't the time and place to get into mentoring, but Chucky saw himself forced to explain his attitude somehow. Otherwise, he would have been done manipulating you.

" Sometimes violence can be really fun."

Two clueless little children stared at him like he just said the weirdest thing they ever heard. "

" I don't understand."

" It's like in cartoons, like Tom and Jerry. Isn't it fun to see the cat getting hurt chazing the mouse?

You nodded in agreement and he seemed pleased with that.

" It's funny cause Jerry is tiny and he always wins."

" ... But Tom wants to eat Jerry. " Andy replicated. " What did Aunt Maggie do to you?

"Being a pain in my ass."

" If she was annoying you, you could have called Andy's mom. Or get the big dog, the muscled Bulldog. Do you have one of those, Chucky?"

Mindless talking with little kids was the most exasperating thing ever, neither of you were able to deliver one goddamn sensical reply.

" No, but I have voodoo doll friends."

Your eyes opened wide in amazement.The intrigue made him feel flattered once more.

Dumb innocent children completely unaware of how he would have to make them witness a real voodoo ritual very soon.

When Chucky got the bad news about his doll body and assumed immortality you were the first thought element of his plan. The second kid he revealed himself to, also not his preferred choice for a new body, but he knew your fear could be useful to him. Either as a collaborator or a good bait, getting you on board was the easiest way to Andy. The little boy was protective over you, the even more little girl he befriended: he would cooperate thinking he would be saving you that way.

He knew you were not going to put any resistance against him and Karen made that part even easier. While asking you about everything you knew of him in her desperate search for information, she accidentally revealed to you ahead that he was the Lakeshore Strangler. It made him feel a bit disappointed because he was stripped from the pleasure of coming out to you as your great fear by himself.

Andy was the big boy: he was the brave, the strong, the smart. In the course of those moments you were thinking of him as your hero. He WAS your hero, without him you were just like Shaggy hiding behind furniture to avoid the monster without noticing that his long trembling legs would tell his position. It was funny in the cartoons, not in real life. You loved Shaggy, he was your favorite in the gang, but you wished you could be brave for once.The doctors took Andy away and you were alone, you had to be brave for him.

Mommy had to go out for some grocery shopping and you begged her not to leave, but she said you would be causing more mess outside than inside. Surely it was because of that time you got lost in a Wallmart after you left her side searching for the toys section, or the fact that you were used to asking for things that would catch your attention. It wouldn't be the first time you would stay at home watching tv, that's why she didn't see the problem.

You promised you would be good, you wouldn't leave her side or ask for anything, but you needed to go with her. In a hopeless attempt to make her understand, you screamed that Chucky was going to kill you. It didn't work and you stayed alone, a bad feeling telling you that he was going to come for you soon.

Pacing around the place to check on every exit, you were singing to yourself the ' Scooby Doo! Where Are You?' song to feel less lonely.

" If we can count on you, Scooby Doo. I know we'll catch that villain. "

Pathetic child, he thought while hearing you as he was sneaking in. Your shaky voice was music for his ears, he could feel you were about to cry.

" Scooby Dooby Doo, where are you? We got some work to do now." Your song began again. " Scooby Dooby Doo, where are you? We need some help from you now. "

A very noisy cackle took away any hope.

" That dog ain't gonna help you, kid."

You froze and tears began to fall.

" No one is going to help you, all you have is helping me find Andy. "

The magic of friendship, like in My Little Pony, gave you a bit of strength to talk back.

" NEVER! You want to hurt him, you never wanted to be his friend. HE IS MY FRIEND!!!"

Even to pretend you weren't scared you were overdramatic, Chucky was very fed up with you.

" LISTEN TO ME, LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!" He yelled at you, threatening you with his knife. " Offering to kill your dad was me being nice... DO YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT I CAN DO WHEN ANGRY?"

There was no reply, so he held you at knifepoint while keeping his threatening ramble.

" If you don't do exactly as I say, there will be no more Mr Good Guy. You are going to go last, first I'm going to make you watch as I kill your mom. "

Sliding the weapon slowly, he enacted the threat pointing it against your tummy.

Your sister.

" Ríght here, (y/n). I'm gonna stab again and again and again until there will be nothing left. It wouldn't be the first time i do it."

Vengeful memories were coming back to him. Since he didn't have to hide anymore, there was no point in not enjoying the moment.

"I'm gonna tell you a story: once upon a time, a cunt thought she could fuck with me and that's how she and the little parasite growing inside her ended. That's how fucked up shit can get if i am angry. Is that what you want, Barbie? "

You nodded negatively in visible panic as your hopeless sobbing became more intense.

The name slipped out of his mouth before he could control his phrasing, you were just like her. Perhaps that was why he loved your fear: it flattered him even more through the memories attached to the comparison. Losing time was worthy in order to have you as his traumatized unwilling hostage. Not only was it convenient for his plan to get Andy's body, part of him enjoyed projecting about the Pierce that got away through you.

Despite being severely terrified, your childish mind was still able to come up with coping mechanisms. You almost ruin his mood because at some point of the way you had a cute dumb grin and he heard you giggling, as if a warm thought would be making you ignore the stress.

The monster was kidnapping you to get to your friend, just like it regularly happened to Daphne on Scooby Doo.

You were like Daphne, even if you were as scared as Shaggy.

Smart as Velma and brave as Fred, Andy didn't fall for Chucky's tricks so easily. You escaped from the doll together, getting away from the place where your friend was locked. The chaze wasn't funny like in the cartoons, but you felt so much better because he was alright and he was with you.

You would follow him anywhere, but you didn't want to go back to your apartment building knowing Chucky would go there after you. Andy was insisting on going back to his home, reminding you to hurry up, but you weren't convinced of the plan.

The fear of what could happen to your mom and your unborn sister paralized you. Hiding in an alley and forcing him to do so, you refused to give one single step more.

" Chucky will get them. " You tried to explain to him between sobs. "... My sister, he said..."

Andy cut you off while trapping you in a comforting hug.

" It doesn't matter, I will not let him do it... but you have to help me. "

He sounded like a hero to you, so brave and you were so scared.

" I can't, Andy. I will make it worse. I am not brave like you, he knows it."

You made him smile: did you really think he was brave? He was scared too, he cried in fear just like you did but you didn't see him. If he wasn't crying then, that was because he wasn't alone in that dark room anymore and you were with him.

" What if we make you brave?"

Andy showed you some smashed cookies he had in his pocket, a secret gift from one of the nurses at the hospital.

" Scooby Snacks make Shaggy and Scooby brave. "

You smiled at his offering, then opened your mouth to let him feed you the scrumbles of cookies as if he was feeding you with courage.

" Scooby Dooby Doo!!" You cheered to later kiss his cheek while your lips were still stained by scrumbles.

The innocent trick worked and you were feeling so much better, but it wasn't just because of some special power on the cookies.

It was the support of your friend that made you feel strong enough to keep up.

" I love you, (y/n). You are my true best friend."

Preparing on his home got you following Andy's lead as if it would be one of Fred's plans. Once you secured the entrances you both hid in his closet to wait. He searched through his toys looking for weapons and when you saw him picking up a baseball bat you figured out he wasn't going to stay still for long.

" Don't go, stay!!!! Don't let him find you!!"

His following action was one of the purest acts of love you experienced over the course of your life. It settled a mark of an impact then impossible to imaginate.

" Wait here. I'll keep you safe, I promised you."

Andy closed the door behind him, leaving the hiding spot to do his stand against Chucky. You hesitated, doubtful of disobeying his command, but you got out after him as soon as you heard noises making you guess he was in danger.

Too late, he was laying on the floor.

" ANDY WAKE UP!!!" You yelled and rushed to shake him. " WAKE UP, PLEASE. WAKE UP!!!!"

Chucky was there and he could have killed you easily, but you didn't care.

" STEP ASIDE, DUMB BITCH!! HE IS MINE!!!!"

Right before pulling you away he got to witness your last desperate attempt to save Andy.

A kiss, a children's interpretation of how one should be. You barely posed your lips against your friend's hoping he would wake up like Snow White or the Sleeping Beauty.

" DO YOU REALLY THOUGHT THAT WOULD WORK???" The doll mocked you. " I do the magic here ... AND THIS AIN'T A FUCKING FAIRYTALE!!!!"

Chucky laid one hand on top of Andy's forehead, then he began to recite some really odd words. It sounded to you like the Chant of Mamba Wanga, only more complicated. Was he going to curse Andy? Did he want to make him disappear like in the Scooby Doo episode?

The gestures made you fear something even worse, but you didn't get enough time to react. Mrs Barclay and the nice detective came to your rescue. It was the beginning of a hard fight worthy of nightmares, but your friend woke up being still him. Andy burned Chucky alive, but not even that seemed to stop him. Only after the cop shot in the heart did he stay still, but that didn't mean you both got any peace. Neither Andy or you got convinced that Chucky could be completely gone.

That was the reasoning behind the hardest choice of your life, that you were forced to take as little kids. Even with the support of three adults who saw him, no one believed Chucky was alive and he killed all those people. If you would have followed Andy's story, they would have taken you away and there would have been no one to look after your unborn sibling. If he would ever come back, nothing would have stopped Chucky from getting to fulfill the promise he made to you.

You lied, but the boy wasn't mad at you because he knew why you did it. You two understood each other better than anyone, he saw it in your eyes with just one look.

Andy told the truth because someone had to, but that couldn't be you. He sacrificed himself for you one last time, letting his life be ruined so you could keep yours because you had to protect your sister.

She was born on that January, the nerves of your mom caused an early birth. A girl, just like you predicted.

At least he got to meet her before the doctors took his mom and he was taken away.

" I will tell her about you. Even if dad doesn't want me to, I will." You promised him, tears falling from your eyes because you knew what was coming.

You sneaked a little goodbye gift. It was a friendship bracelet that you were making for his birthday but didn't get to finish on time back then.

Andy began to cry, hugging you as if he refused to accept reality as much as you did.

" I don't want to leave! "

" I'm so sorry. I didn't want to... I don't want to lose you."

" You are my best friend." It was his way of saying that he forgave you. " You will always be. "

" You will always be with me." Was your equal reply. " I will never forget you, Andy. "

You never did, that painful separation left a hole in your heart that never healed. Even if he left forgiving you, it was you who was never able to forgive yourself. You cried in his absence, you called him in dreams. From your fifth birthday and for years to come during your childhood, you reserved one of your three wishes to ask for him to be happy.

Even after losing hope of seeing him again, all you wanted was for him to be happy somewhere else.

#andy barclay #andy barclay x reader #alex vincent #alex vincent x reader #child's play 1988 #child's play fanfiction #chucky franchise #curse of chucky #chucky series #chucky #charles lee ray

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kining-the-evil · 1 year

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Hi!! I was wondering if you could please write a Jason Dean x child reader?

Like has a baby sister that he takes care of and tries his best to protect her from their dad. Nobody else knows about her but he is the classic big brother takes the role of father and he is super protective and treats her how a father would treat a daughter.

Thank you and sorry if it is confusing

Movie Night Promise

An: I have written this like five times, each with a different idea. I hope you enjoy this. Also, I kinda mess around with the timeline of when Jd’s mom died. Reader is 10 years old, and was a baby when their mother died

Warnings: talk of suicide, mention of murder, a gun is seen but not used. This was my first time writing a Jd x child reader, so I Hope this was ok.

Jd could only think of three people he ever gave a shit about. There was his mom, but he didn’t want to think about that. There was Veronica, which was a dangerous ‘rip your hair out’ kind of love. And finally, there was his sister, y/n.

A baby when he watched his mom died, he felt like he had to protect you. Simply so your dad didn’t cause you to go down a similar path.

So he did anything to keep your life running smoothly. He kept you fed, clean, clothed, and made sure the name ‘Dean’ was as far from you as possible. Last thing he needed was his reputation to follow you around.

“Get up.” He flipped the light on to your room, his patience running out. He tried twice now to be nice and yet here you were, still in bed. When you didn’t move he walked over to your bed and yanked the blanket off.

“Hey!” You sat up straight, glaring at your brother. “What the fucks wrong with you?”

“Don’t fucking swear at me. And I told you to get up almost an hour ago.” He reached down, grabbing the book and flashlight that had been under your blanket. “And if your going to stay up all night, at least do something interesting.”

He started walking out, and you stuck your tongue out at his back. “Kitchen in 10.”

“Kitchen in 10..” you mocked before getting up.

While waiting for you, jd stood in the kitchen smoking a cigarette. He knew it would piss you off, you hated the smell of them.

“You’re gonna kill yourself with those.” You spoke while dragging yourself into the kitchen.

“You aren’t even dressed.”

“It’s Saturday,” you simply stated. “Why did I have to get up again?”

“I’ve got places to be.”

“You mean you want to fuck your girlfriend?”

“What the hell made you think you could talk like that?”

“You.” He simply glared at you, and you glared right back.

“There’s food in the fridge, and don’t fucking leave.” He started to walk away, but stoped when he saw your disappointed face. “How about this, movie night tonight. Then you have an excuse to stay up.”

“Bring me home a slushy and you have a deal.” He shook your hand to make it official before walking away, leaving you alone in the house.

——————

He hurried back into the house, cursing himself. It was almost midnight, and he genuinely hadn’t planed to be out that late. But sex had led to sleeping, then another ‘suicide’. Which of course led to an argument with Veronica and her kicking him out of her house. It wasn’t until the adrenaline wore off that he realized how late it was.

He could hear the tv on, and he prepared himself for the guilt trip the moment he walked in.

“Listen kid, I got a little caught up with something. How about tomorrow we do something like-“ he stoped when he didn’t see you in the living room. Instead his dad was passed out on the couch. Great. He was going to leave, but paused when he saw your book on the couch. Might as well take it up to you, it could be a peace offering.

He grabbed it before going upstairs, keeping it hooked under his arm. He stuck his head into your room, not seeing your form in bed. He continued down the hall to his room, and he found you there. You were wrapped up in one of his blankets, laying on his bed.

“Hey, grabbed your book,” he held it up to show you. He elected to leave the light off and pulled his shoes off before walking towards the bed. Once closer, he noticed you were staring up at nothing. He rolled into bed, laying next to you. “What are we looking at?”

“You won’t ever kill yourself, right?” He hated that the question didn’t surprise him. You asked the same things every time Bud made you watch those damn videos. They sent you into a sort of spiral.

“Na, I’d have to kill you too.”

“That’s not funny,” you snapped. Clearly you weren’t looking for jokes.

“Y/n, I will never leave you alone with that asshole. I don’t care how much I want to die. Got it?” You were quiet, but decided to cuddle next to him. Most of the time he’d push you off, making some stupid joke, but this time he let you.

“You didn’t bring me a slushy.” You finally said, making him chuckle.

“I’ll take you to get one tomorrow,” he promised.

“Not now?”

“Go to sleep.” He ignored your question, letting his own arm wrap around your body.

“Your gun is poking me,” you mumbled. He reached into his jacket to pull it out and threw it on the nightstand.

“If you complain about anything else I’ll send you back to bed.”

“I love you Jason.”

“I love you too y/n.” He didn’t say it often, but you took it any time he did.

#fanfiction #heathers (1988)#jason dean x reader #jason dean x child reader #jason dean x y/n #jason dean x you #jason dean #jason dean heathers

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