#your grandmama

[baerryjj]

Ik I am v scuffed artist and I have no cool sheet to show or anything but comms are open if anyone is interested👍

[angelofsmalldeath-codeine]

Hey, children. Auntie here with a quick beginners guide that this creator has put together on how to use AO3.

Again, fan fiction is a gifting economy. You are getting free content. Be kind.

Writers, please tag accordingly.

Readers, check the fucking tags before you pull out the pitchforks. We will ram it up your arse if you cry for censorship.

[just-slightly-chayotic]

me reading the summary of my own fic: oh this sounds familiar. have i read it before?

[shibemuses]

;; I really… really wanna make like… a owl shapeshifter who is this big comforting mama figure. She brews potions and amazing soups and stews in her tree hollow

Her hugs are the best And as an owl she is Big So you can hug her Big but also stronk Hardy Irish grandmama

[wolfofwinchester]

Got my hands on a book of herbal medicine and you better believe Claudia is having me take note. Will these ever come into play for threads? Maybe, maybe not. Are they fun to have stowed away all the same? Absolutely.

[cyberphuck]

I'm not gonna reblog the post because it's super long and mostly about Saris (and how it's fine for white people to wear them for any reason they feel like) but there was like a two-sentence mention of how some people (wrongly) think it's not okay for non-Japanese people to wear kimono. First of all ime most Japanese people's reaction to a foreigner wearing a kimono is "oh my god, rad!!" Second of all a kimono is literally just. A garment. The complex, intricately patterned, vividly colored kimono that people associate with the word "kimono" is just a really fancy expensive dress. (there's a history associated with the making of really nice and beautiful kimonos because the hand woven fabric and the carefully planned and placed designs and theme/meaning of the imagery and colors and the traditionally made dyes used mean that that expensive kimono is a work of art in the same way that a painting in a museum is a work of art. Some Japanese people use kimono as an artistic expression, and honoring those carefully made and often historically significant pieces is honoring the talent and hard work that went into creating them, not honoring like. The concept of clothes. Someone, even a Japanese person, acquiring a priceless kimono and then slam-dunking it into the trash would cause outcry not because "white person" but because "HEY MY ARTWORK :(") But there are very plain and cheap kimono and mid-price kimono and knockoff kimono made in like Sri Lanka and imported and sold to tourists. Both men and women historically wore and still wear (differently styled according to presenting gender) kimono, both expensive ones to important events and regular ones to other places and times where they feel like wearing one. It's like the difference between wearing a nice dress to a wedding and a sundress to the local garlic festival. Similarly, there are special types of garments (I can't be arsed to look up the proper names for these) that are for religious and/or cultural ceremonies ONLY, and those are often made specially for the person who will be wearing them or have been handed down through the family and thus have family significance (like a family crest). If the garment wasn't made with specific-you in mind, then it's weird and rude for you to walk around wearing it in the same way people are gonna side-eye you for showing up at mass dressed up like the priest. But the takeaway here is that in the phrase "special clothing" the important word is "special," not "clothing." Get a kimono if you want. Plain, fancy, made in Japan, made in Finland, whatever. Put it on, run around in it. Do housework in it. Wear it wrong. Set it on fire. No one cares.

Source:

GRANDMAMA.

[spkyscry-a]

Let her out... LET HER OUT-

[lecliss]

The horror of my dad calling me today but idk when its gonna be so Im just sitting here. Waiting.

[wantonamblingnymph]

That’s a sun fish and they are some silly looking guys.

And the can get MASSIVE

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your Road to Fame

♛ “If God gives you something you can do, why in God's name wouldn't you do it?” ―Stephen King

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

♕ Pile One (8oP, 3oW rev., Temperance, The Hermit)

Your road to fame would be quite unorthodox and since you’re paving an original path, it would take time, patience, and dedication. This is not an overnight sensation type of thing. Think Sheraseven- the Sprinkle Sprinkle Lady ✨. She had been consistently making content (unique, neo “feminist” videos way before it picked up in media) for well over a decade. She even had a spiritual side to her, she talked about esoteric themes in pop culture and made guides on how to manifest and attract abundance. 

This is my spiritual pile, you would get famous for offering psychic insight (using clairaudience capabilities in particular) or putting your own creative spin on things using your spiritual attunement. Like Sheraseven for example, she combined her interest in esoteric practices with her love for pop culture and social commentary. 

Inherently, esoteric studies have smaller audiences so it would take significant time to build up worldwide fame (if you even want that). 

Honestly, with your skills, any fame you get is due to a higher power. You are a conduit for elevating the collective consciousness. You will be seen because your insight is meant to be heard. Society is heading towards a deep transformation and shift of power from the ultra-rich to the common man and you’re one of the ushers of this change. Your words empower people and are a primary reason for your incarnation. 

Any platform you build is going to be held to a higher standard than most in the eyes of the public and the universe. People are going to look at you for guidance and inspiration and the petty, nasty shit you see in media nowadays will not bode well if you enact it. You will be made an example of how to behave and treat others. Your bad actions will be punished more harshly than anyone else’s and your good actions will be rewarded tenfold. 

Major Jupiterian and Plutonian influence. A genius astrologer on this app tracked the most common nakshatras of K-Pop Idols, and Jupiter dominated their charts. They are held to an incredibly high standard and are trained to be model citizens. However, their fame surpasses the average celebrity and they are practically worshipped worldwide. *ahem* You.

I mean… imagine if a holier-than-thou mental health, peace, and love guru was bullying people on Twitter, nobody would listen to anything you have to say. You HAVE to pay careful attention to your media presence and image.

Howeevveerrr, your biggest personal challenge is trusting yourself and your capability. The thing with spirituality is, it lies outside of human perception, so there is no concrete evidence to prove it to others. So, you would battle with, “Am I even right? Will anyone believe me?” and it would cause a shit ton of anxiety cause you’re constantly questioning yourself. 

Be cautious not to clip your own wings. I can't stress this enough: you are meant for this! You are the real deal! If others don’t believe in you, so what? Only YOU need to believe in yourself. Offer honest help to others, and if they choose not to take your advice, that's their loss. Remember, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink—just as my grandmama would say. DO IT THE FUCK ANYWAY!

But have patience! That’s another thing, you’ll grow frustrated if your platform isn’t building as quickly as you’d like. You have to remember that the divine has a hand in this ordeal, they are going to attract the right people at the right time and it likely won’t align with your sense of urgency. Trust the process and stay committed—you’re on the right path!

P.S. Your work will be slow. Most careers require a “grind”, yours won’t. You need to prioritize introspection, drawing your attention inward and looking for answers deep within your soul. Don’t stress logic and manipulation of the algorithm, trust your inner knowing. 

(Do you have a prominent Pluto in your chart: Either in a cardinal house or conjunct a personal planet? You are a major player in the world’s rebirth.)

Okay bye bye! MUAH! 💋💋

The Seer of the Space Between Worlds

♕ Pile Two (7oS, 9oS, Queen of Wands, The High Priestess, 5oS, 10oW, 5oW rev.)

YOU’RE SEXY AND HOES ARE MAAADDDDD.

Your road to fame is you embracing your authentic self. Something about your beauty: your looks, how you style yourself, who you’re seeing romantically, your creativity, your sensuality,

or you could lead a visually pleasing “soft girl” lifestyle. Anything that makes people look at you just swoon. 

People would be mad because they think you have it easy. You don’t really have to do much, but be beautiful because people desire you and your lifestyle. If you’re a woman, I see you leading self-confidence courses and teaching women of all ages how to raise their self-esteem by detaching from anything that drains their inner wild woman.

This reading is hyper-feminine, if you’re a man you’d get famous for your proximity to women or will have a female-dominated fanbase that sees you as their dream guy and wants to date you. 

You create a wonderfully comfy vibe; everything you do looks effortless, even if it takes a ton of hard work behind the scenes. You sell a fantasy, showcasing the polished version of a lifestyle while hiding the nitty-gritty realities. Take that Ballerina Farms lady, for example. She’s running a farm, raising 50 kids, and cooking from scratch daily, all while looking FABULOUS. I bet she goes to bed exhausted! Yet to the public, everything appears romantic and effortlessly beautiful, making it seem far easier than it actually is. Now everyone is dreaming of escaping to a self-sustaining farm and embracing that charming cottage-core lifestyle.

However, underneath all the glitz and glamour, there is something dark in your mental space. You attract a lot of envy. People desire your lifestyle to the extent that they’ll get buddy-buddy with you just to be near what you have, hoping it will rub off on them. You’ll have to learn to navigate deceitful energies and “friends” who are secretly competing with you.

People will like the idea of getting you out of your “princess” character. They want you to look like the bad guy- someone who is actually a mean bitch underneath your cool, calm, and collected persona. 

This aspect of fame, in the broader context of your life, will teach you discernment and help you trust your intuitive judgment of others. However, on this journey, you may find yourself grappling with intense paranoia and trust issues. Having been burned by people in the past, you'll become hyper-vigilant, determined to avoid the same pain again. Yet, through this struggle, you'll also discover the importance of vulnerability and the value of genuine connections, allowing you to grow stronger and more resilient in the face of adversity.

You will meet the best people in your life and your greatest adversaries at this time. 

But don’t sweat it, they hate you because they don’t have shit on you.

Okay bye bye! MUAH! 💋💋

She Weaves Timeless Romanticism Into The Mundane

♕ Pile Three (Page of Pentacles, The World, 10oW, King of Pentacles, Powerful, Saturn, Gemini Medical, Seduction)

You have the power to unite the world baby. Your key to fame is sharing your perspective on life. 

You possess a deep understanding of a universal truth that many remain blind to, and it's crucial to share your ideas. If this resonates with you, you'll likely feel a weight of knowledge pressing down on you, creating a longing to communicate and connect with others. This insight isn't just a personal burden; it’s your ticket to stardom. By expressing this truth, you have the potential to inspire others, spark meaningful conversations, and elevate both yourself and those around you. 

You have the gift of the gab, can charm the birds from the trees, a mouth like a magpie, can sell ketchup to a lady in white gloves, and every other saying under the sun that says your words are seductive. 

I don’t think you realize this but you have a knack for attracting an audience. You may feel insecure and think people stare at you for no reason or listen too intently to everything you say, but it's because you radiate an aura of importance. 

Significant placements: Saturn in a cardinal house or major conjunction, Libra, Cap, Aqua, Pushya, Anuradha, and Uttara Bhadrapada.

Your mind is critical, astute, and hyper-aware; this aspect of yourself bleeds into your physical existence. Your body language communicates this fact and people pick up on it, giving the impression that you’re intelligent and have something important to say.

You know those internet personalities who, for whatever reason, people hang onto their every word? When something happens in the media, people rush to their comments and ask about their thoughts and opinions. Or, all their content is their knowledge about niche things or their viewpoint on divisive arguments in society. That’s your shit right there. 

You’re likely not too interested in mainstream media and like to consume content that expands your knowledge and mentally stimulates you. 

There is a deep sense of doubt here, you’re probably reading this and going, “But I’m not smart🫤.”

LIEESSSSS!

You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit, you’re a genius! You might be surprised at how interested people are in your thoughts if you find the courage to share them. Sure, you’ll encounter some naysayers along the way, but who cares? It’s the internet, and let’s be honest—people can be insufferable. You could say the sky is blue and there’d be some smartass like, “Well actually, with all the methane in the atmosphere the sky turns pink with a dash of purple at approximately 6:44 pm in the western hemisphere  ☝🏾🤓.”

You can’t let these losers silence you. 😭😭

Focus on those who resonate with your message and don’t let the negativity hold you back. Your voice matters, and the world needs to hear what you have to say!

Just to reiterate, it IS your ticket to getting the spotlight you deserve.

P.S. If you have Saturn dominance, especially in relation to Mercury, you likely experienced some delays and struggles in your education and learning development (SAMESIES). You might have a speech impediment or struggle to find the right words. 1) Things will get better with time and you will likely surpass everyone else in terms of communication because you will put a lot of focus into refining your speech. 2) People will find your speech endearing because it shows that you’re human, imperfect, and relatable. It makes it easier for people to connect to you and resonate with your message. 

P.S.S. For some of you, this message is tied to your academics and whatever you’re learning professionally. 

P.S.S.S It's hours later, and I'm letting my intuition shape your mood board. The imagery is… quiet yet formidable, like towering mountains or the very core of the Earth. You have an intellect that doesn’t need to scream that it’s sharp. You embody the dignified essence of Saturn, exuding a carefully crafted composure. People are drawn to unravel your layers, eager to glimpse the depth within. It may sound strange, but over time, people come to see you as profoundly wise.

Okay bye bye! MUAH! 💋💋

The Gentle Fortitude in Peace of Mind

♕ Pile Four (Page of Swords, 2oP, 4oW, 4oS rev., 9oS rev., High Priestess)

Haha, you think you won’t find love but you’re about to receive one of the greatest love stories of a lifetime 🫵🏾!

Your road to fame is a blossoming partnership filled with love, mutual respect, and endless banter. 

It could be a familial, platonic, romantic, or a friends-to-lovers situation, doesn’t matter. Your bond with another is what will catch the media’s attention. In today’s age, this could be in the form of a podcast or live streaming where people get to observe you and your person’s natural flow of conversation.

Do you know Aaron and Jo? They’re commentators who’ve been friends since childhood, and their unique rapport is magnetizing. It’s effortless and incredibly comfortable to witness, making their interactions feel genuine and warm. They have middle-school boy humor but they’ve refined it over the years, so it appeals to all audiences and is genuinely hilarious. You and your person will have something one-of-a-kind like this. 

This is sort of separate from the reading, beyond the potential fame, this person is coming into your life (or is already in it) as a gift from the Universe. The karmic scales are balancing in your favor. You’ve spent years emotionally pouring into people with very little in return and as a form of justice, you are going to meet people who “Match your Freak”, so to speak. 

Placements: Tropical Aries, Sidereal Pisces, Uttara Bhadrapada Nakshatra. Any Cancer or 4th house placements. 

You’ll know this is coming when you’re going through a season of release. Whatever has been draining you emotionally and torturing you psychically will just… poof!

One day you’re going to, “fuck that shit, it’s not the deep- WE BALL!” your way to success 😭😭.

This is my bubbliest pile. Not that you are a bubbly person, in fact, life’s trials and tribulations took away your ability to crack a smile for a while. But this new phase you’re entering is nothing but giggles and a great fucking time. You deserve it!

This person is going to nurture you in ways that even your inner child can’t fully comprehend. The success you find online won’t even feel like the ultimate prize; it’s the deep connection you build that truly matters. This bond will uplift you and provide the support you didn’t know you needed, making the journey all the more rewarding.

P.S. You might have Libra or 7th house significance in your chart because a core aspect of your life revolves around connection and partnership—more so than most. It's time to celebrate! Toss your cap in the sky, you’ve completed a huge karmic cycle and your blessings are coming! 

Okay bye bye! MUAH! 💋💋

The Joyous Hum of Divine Union

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; parenthood (?), mentions of violence

♡notes; i work with toddlers all day yet still somehow get baby fever- so here’s this i guess lol.

i can’t see Brahms as a dad so skipped out on him this time, Vincent is iffy too but we might come back to him

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> micheal never wanted to be a father before he met you

> he knows for a fact he has something terribly wrong with him

> and while it never bothered him…it was far too dangerous to pass on

> but the way you light up when little kids on the street wave to you

> how you talked about building a family when you got drunk and sappy

> and how soft and gentle you were holding your friend’s baby…

> he knew you’d be the perfect parent, good enough to balance any bullshit he was bring to the table

> so it’s maybe not a complete accident when he stalks into the house with a banged up stroller out front

> the baby is crying, his parents passed out from some shit they snorted in the living room

> it makes his job easier when he slits their throats, and he’s sure as hell not sympathetic

> not that he ever is

> he follows the cries upstairs- a tiny little boy is wailing in his crib

> but he stops and stares at Micheal, blue eyes wide as he looms in the door

> at first Micheal thinks the racket it going to start again and braces for the scream

> but the boy reaches for him eagerly instead, making grabby hands and squealing

> it takes a bit of snooping but Micheal finds some paperwork after he’s secured the child in a carrier

> Miles. The boy’s name is Miles, and he’s ten months old- just tiny for his age

> you think he’s fucking with you when he sets a baby carrier on your table that night

> “…that’s Miles.” He mutters and walks away

> you’re pissed but you can’t say you have anything but an urge to protect this tiny boy

> he has red hair, and light freckles and the sweetest disposition

> he’s perfect, surely Micheal wouldn’t just steal a child…not without good reason

> and you notice Micheal still lingering, watching you both

> you try not to smile

> “…well. Gonna help me find somewhere he can sleep or not?”

Thomas Hewitt

> when Charlie brings in the little girl, Luda Mae is beyond excited

> she had no idea the couple she’d sent down their road had a baby

> her dark curls and chubby legs and ruddy pink cheeks remind her so much of Thomas at that age too

> not too far off from one if she’s got it right

> she’s thinking selfishly, she’s always wanted a daughter

> but Thomas’ eyes go so wide when you both walk in

> he’s in awe of the tiny lil thing sleeping against his mama’s shoulder

> he won’t hold her, terrified of hurting her

> but you’re eager to take her for a bit and he gets real close, chin hooked on your shoulder so he can inspect her closely

> she’s all giggles as she touches his mask

> and you’re nearly in tears when she snuggles up against you

> “…yknow…i’ve been thinkin. i’m much closer to grandmama age than mama age now”

> you say yes before Luda can finish her ask - there was nothing you wanted more than a child with Thomas

> he’s hesitant, but he already adores her

> you have no way of knowing her name, so what you should call her is a bit of a hot topic for a few days

> Charlie wants to name her Charlotte because he’s a self centered bastard , and Luda Mae has about a thousand suggestions that come from baby books decades older than you

> but you let Thomas decide

> Audrey Mae Hewitt is what he chooses

> Audrey from a book he read

> Mae from his mama

> and it suits her perfectly

Bubba Sawyer

> “hey cook! look what i got!”

> Drayton about beats Choptop in the plate when he sees him carrying a toddler under his arm like a log

> but he’s kind of impressed such a scrawny dirtbag can carry a chunky kid like that

> the little boy is a healthy weight for two or so, with lil chipmunk cheeks that dimple when he grins

> and the cutest damn mullet you’ll ever see

> Drayton is getting too damn old for this, and there’s only one person he trusts even a minuscule amount in the house

> so he just. hands him to you when you walk into the front room

> “congratulations, it’s a boy”

> you’re confused but excited

> and a bit concerned with how he and Bubba will feel once the man gets home

> a kid is a big commitment- and a man that wears people’s faces can be scary

> but Bubba immediately squeals and beelines for the little one when he staggers in

> they both tilt their heads curiously before the boy tries to climb up his leg

> when he picks him up, the boy gives a huge belly laugh, kicking his legs

> you choose his name- politely declining your boyfriend’s brothers’ insistence on Lil Choppy or Drayton II

> Jedediah Junior sounds perfect to you - little JJ

[celiastjamesoscar]

To Be Alone

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Being alone was something special to Wednesday, but being alone with you was sacred. And she refused to share you with anyone else, even if that meant owning up to her feelings

A/N: this is part 1 of a series. If you would like to be included in the Taglist for it, let me know!

Warnings: slight friends with benefits, jealous Wednesday, snarky Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

My Masterlist

The sound of obnoxiously loud music rang throughout the room as the students of Nevermore danced in sporadic movements, and none matched the rhythm of the music. Crowds were never a fan of Wednesday’s, but she would put up with the brightest colors and loudest thumping of music to get a glimpse of you.

It was out of character for Wednesday to want anything romantic in her life, let alone with someone like you.

To put it nicely, you were just like Wednesday, a snarky asshole whose mouth sometimes got you in trouble. But you were also more friendly than Wednesday could ever be; you cared for others deeply, while Wednesday barely superficially cared for them. But when your warm, soft lips met Wednesday’s cold, stiff ones in the darkness of the woods on the coldest of winter nights, Wednesday felt her heart reach a warmth it had never known.

Your relationship with the Addams girl was a weird one, and you never expected her to be someone who would enjoy a friends-with-benefits situation. But when Wednesday called you at an ungodly hour and asked, no, told you that you were going to be her romantic partner for dinner with her family, you didn’t refuse her.

Wednesday prepped you on the car ride to dinner and told you everything you would need to say; you and Wednesday met through fencing class and soon became friends after Wednesday bested you in a duel. That information was vital to the story, according to Wednesday. You two only started to date after a romantic walk through the local graveyard, and you shared a kiss on the tombstone of the late Marilyn Thornhill.

The dinner was a peaceful one, with all things considered. You won the approval of Gomez Addams, and you seemed even to impress Grandmama. Morticia adored you, but she saw right through her daughter’s scheme of forcing you into a fake relationship with her. Of course, she would never tell Wednesday that she knew her daughter was lying to her about her relationship. Still, Morticia enjoyed watching her daughter pretend to understand the beauty and pain that is love. And Morticia knew that after enough time, Wednesday would slowly start to realize she had feelings for you.

After that dinner, you kissed Wednesday’s lips for the first time, entirely by accident. You had leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but your sudden movement had startled the shorter girl, causing her to turn her head quickly, and when she did, her lips brushed yours. Instead of pulling back, Wednesday leaned deeper into the kiss and soon gripped your neck, trying to pull you impossibly closer as her lips connected with yours. She soon became addicted to them, and she refused to let anyone else taste them, and she soon started up an agreement with you; no feelings were involved, just late-night stolen kisses and moonlit strolls through the woods. But now, as she watched you talk with other women who weren’t her, she felt her chest tighten with anger.

“Wednesday, what are you doing?” Enid asked as she suddenly appeared beside the girl, startling Wednesday out of her thoughts. Enid had a suspicion of the goth girl’s interest in you, even though Wednesday refused to acknowledge it.

“Staring at Y/N with my autistic eyes,” Wednesday deadpanned, and the ravenette’s statement took aback Enid. “Um, okayyy,” Enid awkwardly replied as she gently placed her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders, slowly turning the girl, “I don’t know what to do with that information, but let’s go over here, where you can’t stare at Y/N.”

Truth be told, you weren’t doing anything to provoke jealousy in anyone, especially Wednesday. But the Addams loathed seeing you smile while talking to Yoko. Jealousy was a feeling she knew all too well, and it only happened with you. And for that, she would potentially murder you in your sleep tonight. It would be a clean murder, nearly no blood at all, but it put a frown on Wednesday’s lips; she wanted your murder to be a gory one, one that would bless her dreams of haunting images of you for the rest of her days, but the thought of drawing out your murder made Wednesday feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: sadness.

“No,” Wednesday stated as she shook off Enid’s grip and continued watching you talk to the vampire. It was a dull dance, and you were only here to socialize and to make Wednesday jealous, which was working.

“Why are you so keen on watching Y/N talk to Yoko? They are roommates, like you and I,” Enid cheerfully replied, hoping to help ease the tension in Wednesday’s shoulders, but it only seemed to worsen. “Enid, three-fourths of this institution thinks that you and I are together romantically,” was all Wednesday said, and Enid picked up the hint.

“Point taken. So then, why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Like a normal person would do instead of staring at her like a creep,” Enid suggested, but judging by the glare her roommate gave her in return, she assumed that Wednesday hated the suggestion. “Well, if you’re going to be a loser whose only way of flirting is staring at Y/N until she notices you, then I don’t think you will have any luck at pulling her. But I wish you the best,” Enid stated as she quickly looked at you before returning her attention to Wednesday. She gave the goth a small hug-which Wednesday did not return-before skipping off to go God knows where.

It was as if Enid’s presence was stopping you from feeling Wednesday’s uncomfortable glaring, and as soon as the werewolf was gone, your eyes automatically found Wednesday’s dark ones.

You politely excused yourself from Yoko before walking over to Wednesday with a smug smile on your lips. Wednesday hated that smile on you, not because it looked terrible; it was quite the opposite. That smirk did something to her; it stirred something profound inside her, and she hated the beast you awoke in her.

“My lady,” you husked in a raspy voice as you took Wednesday’s hand in your own and bowed while placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “What were you two talking about?” Wednesday asked, wasting no time in finding out if she was going to murder Yoko as well.

“Relax, my dove. We were just talking about ‘The Haunting of Hill House,’ nothing to worry about,” you replied softly as you stood up straight and gently caressed the more petite girl’s hand.

Wednesday scoffed at the pet name and tried to pull her hand out of your grip, but it only caused her to draw you closer. “You miss me that much?” You asked with a smirk as you placed Wednesday’s hand on your chest, and instead of pulling away, the more petite girl slowly ran her hand up your chest and stopped as she took your necklace between her polished black fingers.

It was a gift from Wednesday, of all people, and you wore it with pride like it was your last name. You never took it off, and in a way, it acted like a collar; no matter how far you strayed from Wednesday, people would look at it and automatically know who you belonged to.

The necklace itself was a golden chain that ended with a small circle. The circle had gold-colored beads with small, black dots in the middle. And in the center of that circle was a golden ‘W’ with a line attached to it, holding the W in place.

“You still wear it,” Wednesday stated as she flipped the W between her fingers, gently caressing it with her thumb.

“‘If you ever take this off, I will rain hellfire down on you and your family until the end of the earth. I will haunt you in this life and the next; you will never be able to get rid of the image of me standing over your lifeless body if you were ever to remove this necklace.’ Those were your exact words,” you recalled with a smirk as you watched Wednesday play with the necklace. “But hey, at least you think of us together in the next life.”

“No,” she simply stated, and you were going to argue back, but she pulled you down to her level by the necklace, “If you ever tell anyone I have plans with you in the next life, I will skin you alive and feed your remains to Fester.”

The laugh you gave Wednesday in response angered her beyond belief, but the sound of it infested her stomach with spiders, and if she wasn’t careful, she might even admit to caring about you. “Jokes on you, Uncle Fester is my best friend. We are basically inseparable,” you remarked as you stood back up, and Wednesday let go of the necklace.

“I hate that you are his favorite person,” Wednesday mumbled under her breath and then cleared her throat as she remembered why she needed to talk to you, “I will be needing your assistance this weekend.”

“And why’s that?” You asked with a smirk. You knew it was parent’s weekend, and Wednesday needed to keep up the act of you two being together; you just wanted to hear her admit it. “My parents are coming this weekend; you must be there to prove to them that I am capable of feeling emotions other than intense anger and homicidal thoughts,” Wednesday deadpanned as the loud music slowly turned into a softer one, a waltzing song.

You didn’t recognize the beautiful melody, but you stuck out your hand toward the smaller girl. “Can I have this dance?” You asked with a soft smile, and if it were under any other circumstance, Wednesday would have said yes. “No,” she dryly replied while slapping your hand away, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t know it was a question,” you stated.

“It’s not; I just like allowing you to think that you have a say in what you get to do.”

“You are a woman after my own heart, Wednesday Addams,” you joked, and Wednesday scoffed at you. “In your wildest dreams,” the goth girl stated as she walked away from you, but you followed her.

“So what will this weekend trip entail? Do I need to start flushing my teeth and putting on chapstick?” You questioned while following the smaller girl out of the ballroom. “Why do you not already floss your teeth?” Wednesday asked with an eyebrow hitched, clearly displaying her irritation that you don’t floss regularly.

“Ummm, because it’s pointless? I brush my teeth twice daily. Isn’t that enough?” You retorted with a curious look. “One day, you are going to wake up in the middle of the night, and all of your teeth will have fallen out of your brainless head. When that happens, I shall make a necklace out of them and force you to wear it as a remembrance of our conversation about flossing,” Wednesday stated as she walked toward her room. She had a weird way of showing affection toward you.

When Wednesday reached her dorm, she opened the door and tried to close it on you, but you caught it in just enough time and stepped into her room. You shut the door as you followed the ravenette toward her desk. “Okay, but seriously Wednesday. What do you want me to do when Mr. and Mrs. Addams arrive?” You questioned with a serious expression, and when Wednesday looked up at you, she missed your usual playful demeanor.

“Be normal. You’ve been around them before; why do you still ask me how you should act around them?” Wednesday questioned as she loaded paper into her typewriter. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I hate lying to people! And your mom is hot, so that also makes me nervous,” you responded with a little bit of defensiveness. But for an unknown reason, Wednesday felt her heart slowly break at mentioning your attraction to her mother.

“Do not remind me of your infuriating attraction to my mother,” Wednesday deadpanned as she began typing, “And we aren’t lying to them, so you don’t need to worry.”

A small scoff left your lips at her comment, but then a mischievous smile overtook your lips as you found a loophole. Carefully, you leaned an elbow on Wednesday’s desk and smirked at the ravenette, who seemed ignorant of the mistake she made.

“So, we aren’t lying to them, correct?” You asked in a calm voice as your eyes examined Wednesday’s face. “Why are you making me repeat myself? You are correct; we are not lying to them. Now, will you please leave me so I can work?” The Addams coldly remarked as she shook the feeling of spiders in her stomach at your proximity. No matter how many stolen kisses you two shared, you always made her nervous and gitty, which was a feeling she both loathed and cherished all the same.

“By that logic, we aren’t lying about our fake relationship? So that means we are actually, in fact, dating?” You asked with that same smirk, and Wednesday knew she had fucked up when she looked into your eyes and only saw hope that didn’t match your playful smirk. “We are not in a romantic relationship at all. We are just two acquaintances who engage in romantic activities from time to time. Now leave,” Wednesday stated as she grew increasingly annoyed with you.

You gave the smaller girl a pathetic sigh as you pushed yourself off the desk and slowly sauntered away from her desk, but before you could get too far, Wednesday grabbed your wrist. When you turned to face her, Wednesday reached up and tightly gripped your uniform tie as she brought your lips down to hers, and you both sighed into the kiss.

It had been too long since you both found comfort in each other’s lips, and Wednesday had started to crave their delicate touch and sweet taste. And, of course, by ‘too long,’ that meant nearly a day. The kiss itself was a chaste one that displayed all of the love and affection Wednesday had for you that she could never verbally say.

Only when oxygen became a problem did you pull away from those heavenly lips. With a small huff, the ravenette rested her forehead against yours as her free hand came up and slowly stroked your jaw.

“I want to rip out your mandible and add it to my bone collection,” was what Wednesday mumbled against your lips, but the words that traveled through your ears were, ‘You mean so much to me that I want to have a piece of you with me forever,’ and you were happy with that translation.

“You have such a way with words, you know that? You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you mumbled against her lips before placing a final kiss on them and turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked as she returned to reality when she didn’t feel your lips anymore and saw you walking toward the door to leave.

“You told me to leave, so that’s what I’m doing,” you replied before a slight smirk overtook your face, “Why, do you miss me already?”

“No. Just be ready by tomorrow morning so we can eat breakfast with them,” Wednesday stated as she continued her work, ignoring the feeling in her stomach at the thought of you leaving for the night. Most of the time, when her parents visited, you would stay the night in her dorm to further push the agenda that you two were a couple. Definitely not because Wednesday found it hard to sleep without you at night.

“Goodnight, Wednesday. I hope your dreams are just as evil as you are,” you joked as you opened the door, and Wednesday huffed in response as you left the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday hadn’t been working on her novel. She had been writing out all the things you make her feel, and when you had wished nightmares upon her, the final sentence that had made its one onto the page was the thing that shattered her heart the most: ‘Gods should fear the love I have for you.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @baddiebbarbietngz @maskthedwarf @aroaceanxietylemon

[luludeluluramblings]

Pregnant neglected reader meme:

*Bruce, Clark and Lex Luthor trying to get into readers computer for some reason*

Lex: The password hint is "My babies best grandparent"..... Well I think we all know who tha-

Bruce: *immediately puts in his own name*

*wrong password*

Bruce: *internally screams, cries, and throws up*

Lex: Oooo sorry friend, not sorry, but I'm clearly the best grandfath-

Bruce: *puts in Lex's name*

*wrong password*

Lex: *Depression*

Clark: Oh my gosh it's me! I never knew she thought of me like that. That's *sniff* so sweet of her-

Bruce: *types in Clark's name*

*wrong password*

All of them: ...............

*A few minutes later*

Barbara: So I hacked in for you turns out the password is AlfredLoisForever.

(Another one for extra laughs)

Conner whose injured and on pain meds: You know my wife will get mad if she sees you touching on my chest like that.

Reader who was rubbing his chest: I am your wife!~

Conner: *heart rate speeds up on monitor* ReAlLy?!

Reader: Of course!~

(This is the last one I swear!)

Readers son: Hey Lois can I have a dollar?

Lois: Sure honey here.

Reader: Ah no stop right there young man! That so disrespectful she's your grandmama!

Son: What's wrong with that it's her name!

Reader: No son of mine is gonna do that! Why won't you call her grandma anyway?!

Son: Cause ma she doesn't look like it! Just look at her!

*Everyone looks at Lois who doesn't look a day over 30*

Reader: Well you may have a point but it's still wrong.

Son: But ma the kids at school keep thinking she's my mom and that your my sister they give me weird looks when I correct them.

Lois: *laughs*

Reader: I may need to have a talk with your teacher...

Can you imagine being that kids Teacher when they go to school?

Kid's gonna have hot parents, rich hot and smart grandparents. The parent teacher conference is gonna be awkward. (Y'all know Bruce would insist on being there, nosy ass. And Clark and Lois would show up to try and balance things out. And, then the rest of the family sans Jon and Damian would show up because they're also a bunch nosy asses.)

[achromatophoric]

During a movie night with the gang, Wednesday sits with Enid across her lap while munching noisily on a bowl of—

Kent: *snatches a handful* YOINK!

Wednesday: *glares* Bold of you to pilfer victuals from an Addams.

Kent: Hey, I said “yoink”!

Kent: *tosses handful into mouth and—*

Enid: Wait— Kent, DON’T!

CRUNCH!

Kent: OWFUCK! What the shit is— *spits into hand*

Kent: 😧

Kent: Dude, are these TEETH?!

On Kent’s palm lies several spit-coated chunks of cracked enamel.

Enid: *sheepish* I tried to warn you.

Kent: *gags*

Bianca: What? Seriously? *peeks at Kent’s hand*

Yoko: Yeah, not surprised.

Wednesday: *wordlessly crunches on a handful*

Bianca: Okay, Addams, what the actual fuck? Why are you eating human teeth?

Wednesday: Compose yourselves. These are ethically-sourced children’s teeth.

Bianca/Yoko/Kent: 🤨😦😨

Wednesday: Before you ask, their enamel is softer and thus has a superior mouthfeel.

Bianca/Yoko/Kent: 😑😬🫣

Bianca: WHY?

Enid: *rolls eyes* She just said why.

Bianca: Oh for f—I mean why do you have so many children’s teeth? HOW, even?

Wednesday: Tooth fairies.

Bianca/Yoko/Kent:

Wednesday: Have none of you ever wondered from where they receive their legal tender?

Bianca: Wait— Are you telling us your family fucking employs the tooth fairies?

Wednesday: Only for the Eastern United States.

Bianca: *gawks*

Yoko: Now that you mention it, I think I’ve seen my dad eat this shit. Grandmama’s something something, right?

Enid: *cheerily offers* Grandmama’s Milk Tooths. They’re deliciously deciduous~ 🎵

Bianca: 😐

Bianca: That’s still goddamn gro—

CRUNCH! Crunch. Crunch.

Bianca/Yoko/Kent: 😒😒😙

Kent: *swallows* Dude, these are actually pretty good once you’re expecting ’em. Thanks for sharing, Addams!

Wednesday: *miffed* I wasn’t.

[13uswntimagines]

Cookies For Luck (Alessia x Leah X Child!R)

Request: If you want to continue the Alessia x Leah x kid reader you should do kid readers reaction to Leah’s first game back.

Summary: It's Leah's first game back, and your Uncle Luca taught you that cookies are the best good luck charm. In the Big emotions universe.

Warnings: none. cute Kid fic.

“Weah play?” You asked, your feet swinging back and forth. 

You didn’t get to sit on the bench with the team often, and you still weren’t sure how you felt about it. Your feet couldn’t touch the floor, and no one was holding you. But you did get to sit by all of your aunts. 

At least it was better than at England games when you had to sit in the friends and family section with your grandmama or Leah’s Mum or Peyton, the woman who had been your babysitter since Alessia moved back to England. 

You were close enough to the field to see your aunts take on Reading, and Leah had worn her jersey for the game. You weren’t sure how you felt about that either. 

The last time you saw Leah in her jersey, she had to go to the big scary building that smelt bad. There had been a lot of wires and beeping, and it made your mama cry. 

You didn’t like it when your mama cried. 

Alessia hummed, adjusting the Arsenal beanie you were wearing so it covered your ears. “She will after halftime,”

“Halftime cookies for luck?”

Your mama’s eyebrows furrowed, and she shared a look with Leah over your head, silently asking if this was something the defender had started with you. 

Leah shrugged. It wasn’t her doing, she had never heard of halftime cookies either. 

“Cookies for luck?”

You nodded emphatically. “Uncle Luca said. Worked during the cup. No have cookies, no win,” 

Alessia rolled her eyes. 

Of course, it was Luca who started it. The two of you were thick as thieves from the time you were born, he had even moved into her flat for a bit to help her with you because of how early you had come and how sick you were.

You had him wrapped around your finger from the first moment he held you. He was always sneaking you sweets, loud toys, or anything to annoy her. It made sense that you hadn’t had cookies at halftime during the Spain game because her Mum had watched you instead, and she was always more respectful of Alessia’s rules. 

“Hard to argue with that logic,” Leah said, her lips tilting up. 

“Yeah Mama,” You agreed, high-fiving Leah. Alessia rolled her eyes half-heartedly. “You can have 1 cookie at halftime,”

You looked up at your mama, a smirk that was annoyingly similar to Leah’s on your features. “Fudge striped ones so we run fast,” 

It was another belief of Luca’s doing that the fudge-stripped cookies made you run faster. A belief that the entire English national team had reinforced with many foot races. 

Your mama rolled her eyes again. “I’m sure we can get the fudge-striped ones,” 

“Yes!” You cheered, pumping your fists. “Weah run super fast! Score goal,”

It was slightly unfair how often you and Leah ganged up on her, but your adorable celebrations when she agreed to whatever thing the two of you had come up with were too cute to pass up. 

Beth snorted from Alessia’s other side. “Leah doesn’t score tiny, she stops the goals,”

You frowned, looking around your mama at her. “Not tiny,”

“Of course, you’re not,” Beth smiled indulgently at you. “Can Viv and I join you for your cookies?” 

You brought your stuffed turtle up to your face, like you were having a silent conversation, before looking back towards Beth. “That ok,” 

You didn’t wait for her to respond before you turned back to the game, your eyes zeroing in on Katie. 

She was your favorite Arsenal player after all. 

“Katie have cookie too,” You mumbled, glancing up at your mama. 

She hummed, again fixing your beanie. “I’m sure Katie will be very happy to share a cookie with you too,” 

You wiped your hand across your forehead, pushing the edge of the beanie up higher so it didn’t touch your eyebrows. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t be like Squirt. He didn’t need a hat. 

“No share my cookie,” You muttered, glancing back up at Alessia, as Steph cleaned up an attempt by the women in blue. “Eat own,”

“Yes, you can have your own,” Leah sighed from behind you. 

Sharing was still something they were working on with you, and generally, you shared pretty well. The only thing you didn’t like to share was food. 

You nodded, turning back to the field just as Katie sent a ball into Stinia’s path, your eyes lighting up. 

“Goal!” You cheered as she slotted the ball past the keeper, bouncing in your seat. “Stinia get cookie too,”

Alessia hummed, pulling you into her lap so you didn’t fall off of the bench. “I think we’ll all have some good luck cookies,”

*****

You were positively bouncing by halftime, even escaping your mama’s hold after the whistle blew and running straight for Katie. She caught you with ease, tossing you in the air before settling you on her hip. 

She carried you to the tunnel while you babbled almost incoherently about the fudge cookies you were going to eat, over-excited about the treat you got to have before dinner. 

You wiggled out of her grasp as soon as you were safely inside the changing room, helping the equipment staff pass out the cookies while Jonas waited patiently to begin his halftime talk. He took his own cookie with a smile before you settled yourself in your mama’s lap, nibbling on the treat to make it last while he talked. 

To be honest, his speech was pretty boring. 

It mostly consisted of him showing them a whiteboard with X’s and O’s and using big words that you didn’t really understand, but you knew you had to be quiet through it. 

The cuddles made it acceptable though. You leaned your head against your Mama’s chest and she wrapped her arm tightly around you. Your free hand was tangled with Leah’s as she ran little circles on the back of it. 

You liked it when you got to sit with both of them. It made you feel safe, though not as safe as when you were tucked into their big bed between them. 

You noticed that her knee shook, bouncing her arm and jiggling your hand. 

You frowned. 

Her knees only bounced when you were on them. Or that one time you were with her after recovery and she showed you a very pretty sparking stone on a ring in a red velvet box that you weren’t supposed to tell your mama about. 

You were pretty sure she didn’t have it with her now. She told you it was special, and you didn’t think the locker room was cool enough for her to give it to your mama now. 

“And of course, we’ll be welcoming Leah back onto the pitch,” Jonas smiled, and the changing room erupted into applause. “She’ll come on in the 80th minute for Steph. Other than that, let’s keep playing our best,” 

More cheers broke out from the team as he finished his talk, and you frowned. Was Leah bouncing because she was scared to play? 

You wanted to ask her, but Mama always said asking people if they were afraid usually just made their chest hurt more. You didn’t want to make it worse. 

But maybe another cookie would make it better. 

You shoved the last bit of your cookie into your mouth and wiggled out of Alessia’s grasp. You stumbled when your feet hit the floor grabbing the nearest person to steady. 

It happened to be Katie. 

“Easy bug,” She said, squatting down to talk to you, and fixing your special Arsenal jersey that said Assistant Coach in big letters.“Ya ready to watch Lee play?”

You shrugged, wiping your hands over the 6 on your red sweatpants, searching for the yellow pack of cookies with the elves on it. “Beth say Leah no score,”

“Did she?” Katie frowned at your distraction. They all knew how obsessed you were with scoring goals. 

You nodded vehemently. “It’s the best when Mama or Leah score. Why no score?”

“Your Leah is a defender so she stops goals,” Katie tried to explain, turning her head to see what you were looking for. “Ya alright?”

You hummed, dragging your arm across your face to get rid of the crumbs on your lips. “Gotta get nother cookie for Weah. Her knee bounce,” 

Katie smiled, ruffling your beanie. “I think they’re all gone, the Elves took em back,” 

Your nose scrunched. “They always steal them,” 

It was unfair that they always took them back to Keebler before you could steal more than the ones your mama gave you. 

“They do,” Katie chuckled, pushing herself to stand. “But I bet you and your mama and your Leah will get a nice treat after the game,” 

You turned back to your mama to see her already standing up, your puffy jacket in her hands. You wilted a little bit but stepped up to allow her to wrap it around you before you turned to Leah. She pushed herself to her feet, shifting awkwardly as your mama kneed in front of you. 

You had never seen your Leah look so… nervous. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Alessia said, catching your chin with one hand and holding up a white cloth with the other. 

You pulled away from the washcloth your mama was using to wipe your mouth, grabbing at Leah’s hand. 

Mama always held you when you were anxious, and she said squeezes were the best remedy when your heart couldn’t stop pounding in your chest. Maybe it would be as good as the fudge cookies. 

“I walk with Weah,” You said, squeezing Leah’s hand in three slow pulses.

Alessia was already nodding. “You can walk out with Leah, just let me get the chocolate off of your face,”

You huffed but tilted your face up to allow her to clean the remaining crumbs from your lips. Your eyes squeezed shut as the cool cloth moved in quick, practiced motions across your mouth, and you squeezed Leah’s hand a little tighter. 

She squeezed back, holding onto you tightly until Alessia was done. 

“All done,” Alessia hummed, fixing your beanie. “Ready?” 

You looked up at Leah, she was biting her lip, so you frowned back up at your Mama. “Leah need nother cookie to make her feel better, but the elves stole em,”

They shared a look over your head. 

“Let me see if I can get one,” Your mama said, and you turned back to Leah. 

She let out a long breath before kneeling so she could face you. 

“Can we have a chat for a second bug?” She asked, but you knew it wasn’t a question. 

You didn’t like it when you had to have a chat with your mama or Leah. It usually meant that you would have to go to bed without a story, or your warm milk. Or worse, that you would have to sit in time out after the game instead of running around with the team. 

You looked down, scuffing your shoe on the locker room floor. “Yeah,” 

“Hey, why the long face?” She nudged your chin so you looked up, a slight smile on her lips. “Is talking to me so bad?”

“We only chat when I can’t have sweets,” You muttered. 

Leah chuckled, shaking her head. “No, we chat all the time. In the car, on the sidelines. It’s not a bad thing. 

“Oh,” your eyebrows furrowed, and the little crinkle appeared between them. 

“I want to chat because it seems you’re a bit worried that I’m nervous,” She said softly, finding the cooler of your jacket. 

Her and Alessia always thought it was important to explain emotions when they were happening. You were still learning to recognize and express them. 

You shrugged. “You moving lots, like when you showed me the -…” 

Her hand covered your mouth, cutting you off before you could blurt out the secret you had been keeping for her, and her head whipped around the practically empty changing room to make sure no one overheard it. 

“It’s a bit like that, but different,” She explained, carefully pulling her hand away. “I’m very excited to play again, but I don’t want to let everyone down,” 

Your nose scrunched. 

It was impossible for your Leah to let you down. She was fantastic, even if she didn’t score as much as Mama. 

You would love her if she scored no goals at all. 

“Never let me and Mama down,” You said, sounding far older than 3. “You’re the bestest and if anyone doesn’t think so they’re butt heads,” 

Leah hummed her lips turning up. “You’re very sweet, you know,” 

You shrugged again. “I get it from Mama,” 

“You do,” She agreed, pulling you into her arms and standing. She knew they had Katie or Caitlin to thank for that line. 

You played with the collar of her pinny. “Score goal for me and Mama?”  

“I’ll try,” She said, pushing the changing room door open, and you burrowed closer to her at the blast of cold air. “Will you cheer for me?”

“Always,” You promised, tucking your nose into her neck as she entered the stadium and holding onto her more tightly. 

You would cheer for your Leah and Mama even when the stadium didn’t. 

*****

You were positively buzzing as stoppage time came to a close, toeing the line of the coaches box a little too closely for Alessia’s liking, but she let you. 

She was excited too (though not quite to your level) not only about Leah’s return but that she had assisted in a goal. She knew how important it was to Leah that she put out a good showing, and how hard she had worked to get back to the pitch. 

You caught Alessia's hand as the game whistle blew, so you didn’t lose her in the crowd, and you rushed out onto the field toward where you last saw your mu-. Your Leah. 

“Easy love, she’s not running away,” Your mama said as you dragged her closer to the center of the pitch. 

You huffed, pulling harder at her hand. “Wanna hug,” 

“I know you do,” She agreed, glancing around the field so you weren’t just wandering in the wrong direction.  “Leah is over that way,” 

“I no see,” You wined, whipping around in circles trying to see your favorite defender. 

It reminded Alessia a little bit of a dog chasing its tail. While it was adorable, she didn’t want you to hurt yourself or get frustrated. 

“Come here,” She said gently, holding her other arm out to you, and lifting you when you stepped closer. She shifted you on her hip and used her free hand to point to where the defender was standing near some fans on the sideline. “There,” 

Your eyes zeroed in on Leah as soon as your mama pointed her out, and you wiggled excitedly on her grasp.

Alessia held you tighter. “Let’s go give Leah a big hug for an amazing return, yeah?”

While she was sure you were safe on the field, there were a lot of people, including media and staff she didn’t know, and she didn’t want you wandering off. 

You nodded, your hand weaving through the collar of her jacket as she started to walk towards Leah. “Good assist,” 

“Very good,” Alessia hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head and fixing your little beanie.

You made a low noise of agreement as you got closer. “Deserves cookie,” 

“It does,” Alessia snorted.

To be fair, you thought everything deserved a cookie. 

“Weah you did it!” You cheered as soon as you were within shouting distance of your defender, wiggling enough that your mama put you down so you could crash into Leah. 

“I did bug,” she smiled widely, lifting you into a tight hug as you burrowed into her, squeezing her in a tight hug, tucking your nose into her neck. 

Her other arm embraced your mama, as she placed a kiss on Leah’s cheek. “Great job love,”

“I cheered for you,” You murmured, as Alessia again fixed your beanie so it covered your ears. 

“I know! You were so loud, it helped me very much,” Leah said, her smile never fading as she bounced you a bit. 

You matched her smile, looking proud. 

You liked that you could help your Mama and Leah when they played, even if you were too small to play yet. 

You tuned out their conversation as Katie, Viv, and Beth joined them, waving to the fans and signing a few things. You were far more interested in watching the players run their cooldown drills, running from one side of the pitch to the other. 

“Hey Leah, can I get a few words?” 

You blinked away from the drill, towards where Alex Scott was standing, a microphone in hand followed by a cameraman. You frowned, tucking back into Leah’s neck and squeezing her more tightly. 

Mama didn’t like it when the big cameras pointed at you. 

“Course,” Your Leah nodded, untangling herself from your mama. 

“Let me take her so you can chat with Alex,”

You felt hands under your armpits, trying to carefully pull you away from Leah’s neck. 

“No go,” You muttered, clinging to the defender more tightly. “We stay together,”

Leah and your mama shared a sigh. 

“Sweet one, you’ll just be behind the camera with Mama. You’ll be able to see me the whole time, ok?” Leah said, rocking you slightly. 

You always got a bit on edge when you couldn’t see one of them, except if you were in the changing room or at home. 

You pulled your face out of her neck to meet her eyes. “Cookie after?”

Leah cracked a smile and she shared another look with your Mama. 

“We can have cookies after,” Alessia said. “But I need you to come to me so Leah can give an interview, ok?”

You huffed. 

You didn’t usually mind having to switch who was holding you, as long as you got to cuddle one of them, except if one of them had been away. 

You clung to Alessia when you had to sit with Leah on the sidelines, and now that the roles were reversed, you were content to cuddle into your Leah until you were safely inside the changing room. 

“We can have a cuddle after I’m done, yeah?” Leah added, carefully peeling you from her body and passing you to Alessia. She ran her thumb over your cheek and fixed your beanie again. 

You pouted but allowed your mama to adjust you, your eyes never leaving Leah as the camera guy and Alex set up between you and Leah. 

“And cookies,” You muttered, resting your cheek on your mama's chest. 

It vibrated as she chuckled. “You’re going to turn into a cookie if you’re not careful,”  

You shrugged. “Be like Cookie Monster, but run faster,”

Alessia hummed. 

You were nearly as obsessed with the giant blue puppet as you were with soccer. 

You nestled closer to your mama as the interview started, and she gently rubbed your back. 

“It’s great to get back. The fans have been incredible,” Leah said, smiling widely at the camera, and brushing away her fringe. 

Alex matched her smile. “And you had your own little cheering section,” 

“Yeah, I do,” Leah nodded, winking at you and Alessia. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without them and our good luck cookies,”

Alex’s eyebrows pulled tightly together. She had never heard of good luck cookies, even when she was on the team. “Good luck cookies?” 

“They make you run faster,” You supplied from behind the camera, your cheek never leaving Alessia’s chest. “It’s why she assisted Beffy,”

Alex nodded like it made perfect sense, and Leah chucked a bit. 

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my good luck cookies, or my girls,” 

You hummed, snuggling deeper into your mama. 

You couldn't wait for Leah to finish so you could all have cookies together, celebrating her return to the pitch. 

You sank into Alessia, her warmth surrounding you with a feeling of safety. You knew no matter what, your family would always be there for each other, cheering each other on and eating celebration cookies.