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headfullofpresley · 1 year

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Mommy's Kissing Santa Claus

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: Caroline considers Santa to be her own personal superhero, but she isn't too happy about catching him kissing you. Because no matter what, her Daddy will always be number one.

Word count: 5,5K

Warning(s): fluff, domestic life, Caroline being sad/angry, Elvis dressing up as Santa, smut; just a quick morning quickie that isn't too detailed tbh, roleplaying (kinda.. lol).

Author's note: this was requested a while ago by anon, so nonnie, i hope this finds its way back to ya! enjoy luvs <3

masterlist

“I saw Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night. She didn’t see me creep down the stairs to have a peep; she thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom, fast asleep. Then I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus underneath his beard so snowy white. Oh what a laugh it would’ve been if Daddy had only seen, Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus last night.”

Five year old Caroline adored Christmas. The decorations, the songs, the movies, the presents… but especially, Santa Claus. The bearded man that she believed flew across the world in his sleigh in the span of one night was a God to her.

While most children would weep upon the sight of a strange man in a red suit and a long white beard, Caroline was over the moon every single year. Even as a baby and before she could even speak a word, she would giggle and run up to whoever was dressed up as the man as soon as she could walk – or waddle.

She had no idea it was usually her grandfather or The Colonel who’d pay her a quick visit during Christmas day.

Caroline was the definition of a true Daddy’s girl, but Santa came pretty darn close to stealing Elvis’ spot during the month of December.

“Daddy, that’s wrong! Santa doesn’t have a green hat!” the tiny blonde giggled as she sat on top of the kitchen counter, looking at the freshly baked Christmas cookies her and Elvis spend their time on this afternoon. He purposely colored the hat of the Santa shaped cookie green, because he knew those little hawk eyes of hers would notice immediately.

“Maybe he does this year, honey,” he smirked at his daughter, licking some icing off his finger as he watched her laugh at him before shaking her head and returning her attention back on the tray of cookies. She squeezed a tiny dot of brown coloring gel on one of the reindeers, swinging her legs back and forth happily.

The red boots that she begged you to wear this morning were still on her feet, hitting the kitchen cabinets softly with her movements.

“You’re funny, Daddy.. but these cookies have to be perfect!” she told him with a stern voice. “What if Santa thinks we’re makin’ fun of him and won’t eat them? Mommy says sending letters to the North Pole takes a very long time,”

Elvis was often mesmerized by his daughter. Not only because she reminded him so much of both you and him, but also because she often spoke like she was much older. He figured it was probably because she spend so much time around adults when she wasn’t in school and she’d pick up anything she would hear.

Sometimes it caused for very funny conversations with her and sometimes she’d just embarrass Elvis and you when she had overheard the both of you talk about something or someone that was not meant to ever leave the four walls of this house.

Luckily, it had never been anything too serious.

“If Santa don’t like ‘em, I will deliver all those little apology letters of yours to him myself,” Elvis chuckled as he put the cookie he was working on on a Christmas decorative plate that had been hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. “But he will love your cookies. I bet he can’t get ‘nough of ‘em. Have you seen that fella’s tummy?”

Caroline looked up at him with wide eyes, taking the cookie with the green hat and shoving it into his hand. “Don’t be mean to Santa, Daddy, or you won’t get a present!”

He let out a hearty laugh, biting off the hat of the cookie as he squeezed her toes through her boots, making her squeal as she giggled and stuck her tongue out to him.

When all cookies were drawn on and she was satisfied with them, she took the plate Elvis handed her after he put her down on the ground and walked toward the staircase in the foyer. You had put a small table and a dining room chair right next to the stairs especially for Santa, your daughter unaware that you’d move the furniture back as soon as she was asleep and the cookies were eaten by you and her father.

“I need to get my drawing!” she told Elvis as she put the plate down and climbed up the stairs to get whatever she made for Santa to put it down with the cookies.

As she disappeared into her bedroom, you entered the house with shopping bags clinging in your hands and snowflakes covering your hair. You let out a huff as you closed the door behind you with your elbow, wiggling the cold and red tip of your nose.

“Next year I am back on baking duty,” you told your husband, trying not to crack a smile as he laughed at you and made his way over to you, taking the bags from your hands.

Usually, he would be the one doing the last minute shopping or have the things you needed to be delivered to the house but Caroline insisted he would stay home today and bake those cookies with her. All you really needed were some small presents for Vernon and Dee and some last minute groceries for tomorrow’s dinner.

You gave Mary the week off so she could spend time with her family during the holidays and you could provide a feast for yours.

“Sorry darlin’, can’t help it that she loves her Daddy more,” Elvis grinned as he took the presents out of the bags and put them underneath the tree in the living area before Caroline came back down. “If it makes ya feel any better, she got mad at me for talkin’ shit about her hero of the year,”

You didn’t miss the roll of his eyes and laughed, pulling the scarf you were wearing from around your neck. “She does not love you more, you’re just easier to manipulate,” you grinned teasingly at him, letting him take the grocery bags from you as well as he wandered back to you. “And she loves Santa more than you,”

You weren’t bothered by the fact that your daughter was a Daddy’s girl because when he’d be away from home and on the road, she would always stick to your side like glue. Elvis on the other side wasn’t so unbothered, hating that Caroline would not stop talking about Santa, Santa, Santa.

You loved to tease him with it.

“She loves that fool more than both of us,” he stuck his tongue out to you, walking into the kitchen to unpack the groceries and put them away. He chuckled softly to himself at the sound of your laugh and Caroline thundering down the stairs, running into your arms as soon as she saw you.

“Mommy, look! I made this for Santa to put with the cookies me and Daddy made,” she shoved the drawing in your face as you carried her toward the little nook you had created for Santa Claus himself.

“Wow Care, that’s beautiful! He will love it, baby,” you smiled at her, kissing her cheek as you placed her down so she could neatly place the drawing she made on the table, next to the plate of decorated cookies. The drawing consisted of three stick figures – you and Elvis being the taller ones and her being the small one in the middle.

Ofcourse, she had drawn Santa as well, only he was in an array of red crayon. You could only really recognize who it was by the white beard she managed to get quite accurate. It was cute.

“Did you buy enough milk, Mommy? He will be a lot thirsty,”

“Very thirsty, not a lot, baby,” you corrected her with a soft laugh, kneeling down next to her to look at the cookies. You could see which ones were decorated by her and which ones by Elvis. It didn’t really matter, they’d taste the same to you. “But yes, I have plenty of milk. We’ll pour him a glass before you go to bed, okay?”

“Two glasses?”

“If you’re a big girl and eat all of your veggies tonight, we’ll give him three!” you told her and she smiled excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned into you.

You were pretty sure she would definitely not eat all of her vegetables–she was her father’s daughter, after all–but you’d give her what she wanted and put three glasses of milk ready for Santa, anyways.

You found it hard to tell her no, because she was such a sweet girl.

She was your entire world.

Caroline surprised both you and Elvis as she shoved every single vegetable on her plate in her little mouth. It took her a while to chew everything down and she was the last to finish, but she couldn’t disappoint Santa, could she?

After sliding down chimneys all night, he must be extremely hungry and thirsty and she worked hard for those three glasses of milk.

You let them both go upstairs after dinner so Elvis could give her a bath and put her in her pyjamas as you cleaned the table and did the dishes.

Besides Mary, you basically gave everyone time off because you wanted to spend Christmas Eve with just your husband and daughter. Tomorrow the family and some of the guys would come over and the house will be rowdy again, so you were excited for the relaxing and quiet night you had planned.

You quite enjoyed yourself in the kitchen, cleaning and listening to the background noise that was the TV in the dining room.

You turned the TV off as you were done in the kitchen and heard Elvis and Caroline coming down the stairs. After getting some drinks, you followed them into the TV room and got ready for the movie Caroline had recently become obsessed with.

Scrooge.

She watched it with Dee’s sons a month ago and then made you and Elvis watch it with her again.

And again, and again, and again.

Neither of you could say no to her, even though you couldn’t care less about this movie.

Caroline snuggled in between you and Elvis, leaning into his side as her legs rested on your lap. She’d speak up now and then to point out a part in the movie that she liked and wanted you to pay attention to. But she had been running around all day, playing in the snow, helping Daddy feed the horses, baking cookies – she was tired, so tired that she couldn’t keep her eyes from fluttering shut despite loving the movie so much.

“Mommy!” she gasped softly as she shocked awake due to a loud noise from the TV, looking at you with wide eyes. “If I fall a-asleep.. wake me up, okay? I-I can’t miss.. Santa..” she mumbled, laying her head on Elvis’ chest as she pulled her legs in, holding onto his shirt with her tiny hand.

She didn’t seem to believe you when you told her that you would and looked up at her father. “Daddy, don’t forget, okay?!” she urged him, her voice thick with exhaustion and though her eyes were heavy, she wouldn’t put her head back down unless she got confirmation.

Elvis laughed softly as he looked at her, kissing her forehead. “I promise, yittle. Put your little head down,” he whispered to her, gently pushing her head back down on his chest as he tickled his fingers through her hair.

It didn’t take her long to drift off into a deep slumber.

You and Elvis didn’t wake her up, deciding that she needed all the sleep she could get for Christmas day tomorrow. She probably wouldn’t be too happy about it once she’d wake up and realise it was the next day, but she’d forgive you for it later. Especially when she’d see the presents she got from you and Elvis, her innocent little mind believing that they were from Santa himself.

“I’ll get her to bed,” you whispered as the movie ended which you and Elvis had talked your whole way through. Too comfortable on the couch to turn the TV off and move into the living room, plus Caroline looked too cute sleeping and you didn’t want to wake her. But it was getting late and you and your husband could use some rest as well.

“I’ll be upstairs,” he told you as you picked up Caroline in your arms, kissing your lips as he silently followed you up the stairs. You walked up the main staircase as Elvis made his way to the living room.

Thankfully, Caroline didn’t wake up when you carried her up the stairs and put her to bed. She mumbled something in her sleep and fuzzed in the sheets a little, but she went back to snoring softly before you left the room. You took the opportunity to clean up some of her toys that were scathered around the room and put the clothes away she wore today that Elvis put on her chair.

When you closed the door behind you afterwards and walked down the stairs, you frowned as Elvis was nowhere to be seen. The TV in both the dining and music room were turned off. The house felt empty.

“El? Baby?” you called out softly, looking around as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

Once he cleared his throat and you turned around, you saw him sitting in the Santa nook, cookie in hand and clothed in the Santa suit his dad or manager usually wore. You figured he must’ve put something around his waist, because he filled out the costume that would otherwise be too big for him.

“Merry Christmas to you, madame,” he grinned as he put the cookie down, slapping his hand on his thigh. You pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh as you walked over to him and sat down on his lap, slipping your arm around his shoulder. “Are these cookies for me, pretty lady?”

You cleared your throat a little, a soft giggle escaping your throat nonetheless. He had never dressed up as Santa for Caroline, both of you afraid that she would recognize him instantly.

You thought he looked ridiculous, but the way his voice deepened as he spoke to mimick a Santa like voice and his blue eyes were pretty much undressing you the second he saw you, you couldn’t help but feel a tingle run down your spine.

“They certainly are, mr. Claus. My daughter and husband made them especially for you,” you grinned, placing your hand on his stomach. Or rather the pillow you realised he had put in the costume.

“Your husband, you say?” he hummed, picking up the cookie once more as he took a bite of it now. “Isn’t he a lucky man to have such a beautiful little thing runnin’ around the place,” he put the cookie in front of your lips, his hand finding your ass as his arm was resting around your waist.

You feigned a gasp, gently pushing his hand away from your face as you looked at him. “My, mr. Claus. You’re very handsy, aren’t you? What would my husband think?”

“Well honey, your husband ain’t here, is he?”

He dropped the half eaten cookie back on the plate, wiping some crumbs off his fingers with the napkin you had put next to the plate earlier today. His palm squeezed your ass softly, pushing you firmly against his chest as your hand traveled over the hill of his fake belly and over his chest to wrap it around his neck.

“Now tell me, mrs. Presley. Have you been naughty or nice?”

His words made you want to rip that white beard he was sporting off his face and shut him up with a kiss. You didn’t feel awkward anymore at his little act–not when he was looking at you like that while his palm was shamelessly massaging your ass–and rather felt arousal seeping into your being.

Roleplaying wasn’t rare for you and Elvis, but you never thought him being dressed up as Santa Claus would get you as turned on as it did.

“I’m always very nice,” you told him as you laced your fingers together behind his neck, plastering your most innocent smile on your face. “But I can definitely be naughty too, mr. Claus,”

“Why don’t you show me how naughty you can be, darlin’?” his hand was quick as it reached up to his face, pulling the beard down before he leaned in to you. You giggled softly, gently swatting his hand away before you put the beard back in its place, kissing him.

He laughed softly against your lips but didn’t question you on it, instead fully trapping you against him as he wrapped his other arm around you as well, deepening the kiss.

Caroline shot up in her bed as soon as she awoke out of her sleep not even twenty minutes after you put her to bed. The little Presley girl didn’t think twice to hop out of her bed and walk over to the window, pouting heavily when she realised it was still night time and she was not downstairs waiting for her beloved Santa Claus right now.

You and Elvis promised to wake her and she felt betrayed that you hadn’t.

She had no idea what time it was and if you were still awake, but she figured getting caught would be worth the risk. Tiptoeing to her door, she slowly opened it and shuffled to the top of the stairs – when she saw that the only light that illuminated the foyer came from the Christmas tree, she very slowly and quietly stepped down a few steps.

Not wanting to scare Santa if he was already here, she peeked over the bannister of the stairs and widened her eyes as she saw the white bearded man with his signature red hat and suit sitting in the seat you and her had provided for him. She would’ve thundered down the stairs if it wasn’t for you sitting in his lap, lips pressed against those of her hero.

The one who provided her with the toys she wanted every year, the one who paid her a visit every Christmas day.

She loved him, but he was not her father.

Only Daddy was allowed to kiss you on the lips, not Santa Claus. Not nobody else.

Tears stung in her blue eyes as she grabbed onto the bars of the bannister, watching the kiss for a few seconds before she ran back up the stairs and hid underneath her blankets, silently crying herself to sleep.

You and Elvis were too occupied to hear Caroline coming up and down the stairs and as you tugged him up from the seat to take him into your shared bedroom, he quickly stole the plate of cookies along with him.

You and Elvis woke up early the next morning despite that Santa costume keeping you both awake until the dead of the night. You expected Caroline to stand at the side of your bed by now seeing it was already 8 o’clock because she could never wait until she was allowed to unwrap her presents. This morning, the bedroom was silent aside from Elvis’ soft snoring.

You sat up in the bed and looked at your husband, laughing softly as you took the Santa hat that was clutched in his hand, throwing it onto the floor. You leaned over to him and planted soft kisses on his shoulder and up to his face. He groaned softly as you woke him, his limbs stretching out in front of him before he turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing you to lay back down next to him.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whispered with a soft laugh as he hid his face in your neck, squeezing you in his embrace.

“Mwerry Chwistmas, little one,” he hummed sleepily against your skin before he kissed your neck, the faint hint of your perfume that lingered in your neck making him roll onto his back, taking you right with him.

“We don’t get a lot of Christmas mornings like this one,” he mumbled as he grinned, his hands running up your thighs to squeeze at your hips.

He was right, you didn’t. You’d either be woken up by Caroline or by the doorbell that announced the arrival of today’s company. You told them to come a little later this year, so you and your family had time to actually eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

Now that you and Elvis had a bit of time for yourselves, he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.

His eyes caught sight of the Santa hat on the floor and he was quick to grab it before returning to his warm spot on the bed with you atop of him. “You had a lot of time with mr. Claus last night, it’s only fair if I get some sweetness from mrs. Claus,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he held out the hat to you.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, grasping it from his hand as you put it crookedly on top of your head. He bit his lip and moved his hands up your sides, slipping toward your front to squeeze your bare breasts in the palm of his hand.

Neither of you bothered to put on clothes before you fell asleep last night, so he didn’t need to wait for you to peel off pieces of fabric for you to raise your hips and sink down onto him.

He groaned as he moved his hands underneath his head, watching you ride him with a cocky smirk on his face.

“You look so sexy, baby,” he mummered as his eyes wandered down from your face to your bouncing breasts, voice sounding hoarse as it was still heavy with sleep. It only motivated you to go faster.

The idea of Caroline wandering into the room any minute was also on your mind, but Elvis didn’t mind you chasing your climax with slight hurry. He decided to help you get there even faster, reaching one hand down to circle your clit rapidly with his thumb.

The both of you had to bite down on your tongues to not moan too loud and while Elvis loved hearing you make those pretty sounds for him, he knew he could not make you truly scream while Caroline was also in the house.

Luckily for him, she had a sleepover planned at his father’s house next week.

Thanks to Elvis’ digit, you were quick to reach your climax and he followed not long after because of how visciously you were clenching around him.

“We should.. should check on Care,” you breathed as you ripped the fluffy hat off your head, throwing it across the bed before you leaned down and kissed your husband, who mumbled a soft agreement against your lips but made no movements to leave the warmth of the bed.

Caroline had been up before you and Elvis, but instead of walking into your room to tug on your blankets until either you or Elvis woke up, she went straight to the living room.

She was a girl on a mission today and it wasn’t a very fun one.

She was angry – at you, at Santa, and even a little bit at Elvis.

The little girl was still in disbelief of what she had seen last night. She just couldn’t wrap her little head around the fact that you kissed someone that was not Daddy and that Santa kissed you back.

And where was her Daddy while you exchanged smooches with her hero? He should’ve been there to stop it. Maybe even kick Santa’s ass a little.

She wandered over to the Christmas tree, taking the ornaments out one by one. Santa Claus didn’t deserve a nice tree anymore – if he would come by the house today, she would show him that she was angry with him.

Once you and Elvis came down the stairs and saw the bottom of the tree empty from its usual ornaments and Caroline gathering the sparkly garlands in her arms, you widened your eyes.

“Caroline, what is this?!” you exclaimed in confusion as you walked over to her to lift her up your hip. She crossed her arms firmly against her chest, the garlands crunching in her arms as she turned away from you with an angry expression taking over her features. “Caroline, I’m talkin’ to you,”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” she huffed as she stared at the chair by the stairs Santa had sat on last night.

“Caroline Mae Presley, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Elvis warned her as he stood next to you, looking at his daughter. But she didn’t look at him, hanging back in your arms so she’d be heavier for you to hold. “You know you’re not allowed to go downstairs before waking us. Why did you dissect the tree?”

She didn’t want to tell him or you how she was feeling, but she had a weakness for Elvis and she felt sad for him. He didn’t know what happened last night – while she was still young, she knew it was a bad thing. A bad thing that would hurt her precious father.

“I’m mad,” she mumbled and you allowed Elvis to take her out of your arms, walking over to the couch to sit down on it with her in his lap. She unfolded her arms and looked at her hands as you took the garlands out of her arms to put them back in their place.

“Yittle, if you’re mad, you come talk to Mommy or me. What does my tree have to do with anythin’, huh?” he grinned playfully at her as he tickled her sides. Usually, she would giggle and cheer up, but this time she pouted and pushed his big hand off.

“I’m mad.. m-mad.. at Santa,” she whispered, touching the small charm bracelet you gifted her for her last birthday that she never wanted to take off.

“Why, baby? Santa brought you a lot of presents,” Elvis told her as he nodded his head over to you. You smiled at your daughter as she finally looked up and you nodded, holding up a few wrapped presents Elvis put under the tree last night as you were putting Caroline to bed.

It looked like a smile was about to break the angry act she was putting on, but she huffed and looked down again. “I’m mad at Mommy too,”

You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you put the presents back under the tree, getting up to walk over to the couch. You sat down next to Elvis and looked at the pouty blonde in his lap, taking her small hands in yours. She pulled them out of your grip immediately, looking away.

Elvis saw the hurt in your eyes and sighed deeply, knowing playing nice would get him nowhere with his headstrong daughter.

He had finally met his match – it was more exhausting than he ever expected.

“Caroline, don’t be like that to your mother and tell us why you’re so mad. We don’t know what’s goin’ on if you don’t use your words,” he bounced his leg she was sitting on once, making her look at him with a glare.

Her face expressions softened a little when she saw both you and him looking at her so seriously and she couldn’t stop her bottomlip from twitching, her emotions getting the best of her. As soon as tears started welling up in her eyes, she pressed her face in Elvis’ chest and grabbed onto the shirt he was wearing.

“You and Mommy don’t love each other anymore,” she cried, her words coming out muffled. Elvis gently grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her off him so she could speak more clearly but she managed to wrap her arms around his neck, clinging onto him. “And it’s all Santa’s fault,”

You exchanged a look with Elvis and frowned, running your hand through your daughter’s hair. “Honey, what are you talking about?”

Upon the sound of your voice, she pulled away from Elvis and looked at you, tears freely rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh Mommy, please don’t leave Daddy all alone!” she cried as she stretched her arms out to you. She had been so angry with you only minutes ago, but the thought of you leaving and running off to the North Pole with Santa Claus broke her little heart. You immediately took her in your arms and caressed her hair out of her face, wiping her tears away. “Don’t leave me and Daddy!”

“Care, how’d you get that idea? Baby, I’m not leaving you and Daddy,” you told her, kissing her forehead before she wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly.

“But last n-night.. you.. you.. were k-kissing.. S-Santa..” she hiccuped over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly in her little arms as if she was afraid you’d disappear into thin air. “You are in l-love with Santa C-Clause,”

You looked at Elvis and he widened his eyes, letting out a hearty laugh as he leaned back in the couch, throwing his head on the back rest of it. You gave him a warning glare but couldn’t stop yourself from giggling softly too, rubbing your hand up and down Caroline’s back soothingly as Elvis hid his mouth behind his hand to muffle his laughter.

“Care bear, look at me,” you chuckled softly as you grabbed her arms, pulling her out of your embrace so she’d look at you. Her hands rested on your shoulders as she sniffed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “What you saw last night… was me hugging Santa…”

Elvis stopped laughing as he grinned cheekily, waiting for you to explain to your five year old what she had seen. You silently begged for help and he cleared his throat a little, scooting closer to you and Caroline. “Yittle, Mommy was comfortin’ Santa last night. You see, Daddy forgot to put his milk by the cookies last night and Santa was so sad, because he thought we had forgotten about him,” he explained to her as she looked at him, listening while repeating his words over and over again in her head.

“Yes! And I told him we definitely did not forget about him. He was also a little sad that you fell asleep, baby girl, so I gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek,”

She turned to you, her eyes still a little red as she sniffed once more. “Really?”

“Promise. Would we ever lie to you?” Elvis chimed in, smiling at her and she shook her head.

To her, you and Elvis were perfect and would never ever tell her a lie. Not a big one, nor a small one.

“No,” she whispered. “So you will stay with me and Daddy?”

You looked at her and laughed softly, nodding as you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Yes baby, I’m going to stay with you and Daddy forever and ever,”

She smiled softly, nodding her head heavily as she seemed to buy the story you and Elvis told her. Honestly, it wasn’t a very good one, but the only thing you could come up with on the spot.

And for five year old Caroline, the story sounded solid.

“Okay,” she said, grabbing Elvis’ hand as she kept her other hand on your shoulder. “Daddy is more beautiful than Santa,”

Elvis grinned widely, raising his chin smugly. “That’s what I thought, honey,”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, rising from the couch with Caroline in your arms. “Now Santa, me and Daddy will appreciate it very much if you put the ornaments back in the tree. Let Daddy help you,” you grinned, kissing her temple before you put her back on her own two feet. She nodded and walked over to the tree, sitting on her knees as she did what you told her to.

Elvis slipped his arm around your waist, squeezing your ass as he pushed you against his chest. “Seems like we should keep the costume strictly for the bedroom, huh?”

“Definitely,” you laughed softly, kissing his chin. “Without the beard next time, though,”

“I didn’t hear ya complainin’ when I was in between your legs with it last night,” he whispered teasingly with a grin on his face, raising an eyebrow.

You playfully slapped his chest, laughing. “I was feelin’ festive, but Christmas is almost over, baby,”

“Not in this house,” he wiggled his eyebrows, leaning down to kiss you. The moment was interrupted sooner than he liked by Caroline who called out to him.

“Daddy, help me!” she yelled as she had managed to get herself twisted in a string of garland, looking at him with a goofy smile on her face.

“You truly are your mother’s child,” he laughed as he shot you a wink, walking over to his daughter to help her get out of the small trap she got herself into and to help her re-decorate the lower half of the tree.

You laughed as you watched them for a little bit before disappearing into the kitchen to start on breakfast.

In an hour or so, the house would be filled with family and friends again, disrupting the peaceful bubble you had been in since yesterday.

You didn’t mind it all that much, though. And as long as Caroline would have a good time, you didn’t care if the house was empty or full.

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thewritersaddictions · 6 months

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Requests/Drabbles: (TVD) Damon Salvatore- My Girl

This girl's night had been planned for nearly two weeks now, so when the girls piled into the car to drive over to Bonnie's house it was a show to just beginning.

Caroline had brought the best smelling pastries. A new bakery had open up just a few days ago, she said it was treat for all the shit we had been going through recently.

Elena had grabbed about eight dozen movies off her rack at home. Tonight's theme was romcom, I had brought the wine. A few different bottles of wine.

The drive back to Bonnie's was filled with light chatter, and lots and lots of 2000's music blaring through the speakers. The fall weather was a nice touch as well as the leaves were crunched beneath the car's tire, and our feet.

We all giggled with excitment as we tired and were not successful in making the three butt couch a four butt couch. With Elena putting in the first romcom of the night, I was okay with pouring four large glasses of wine and ditching them out to their owners. Caroline and Elena were shoulder to shoulder as I and Bonnie sat pretty much ontop of each other.

It was nearly two more romcom's later before I was a giggly, content women dancing around with Elena in the living room. The ending of 'Pretty Women' was playing, my cheeks felt hot and warm to the touch.

"Elena I love you so much…" You said dragging her to touch our foreheads together. "Aww, I love you too." The air filled between us with the smell of white wine, and pastires. She giggled, so I giggled.

Caroline was fast asleep her cheek pressed into the side of the couch, and half the blanket covering her curled up body. Bonnie wasn't anywhere around, but the sound of clinking and clanking coming from the kitchen gave her away.

"Bonnie! Where'd you go!?" I screamed, yelled into the space between Elena and I. A murmured shh, came from Caroline's lip. "I'm in here you goofs." Bonnie asnwered. She didn't seem that drunk, or at least a little buzzed. "Come one sit back down Elena and I wanna watch 'nother movie." Your words starting to mumble together.

"No I called Damon, to come pick you up." Bonnie declares. You go to pout, but the thought of Damon makes me all warm, and shivery. "Okay." You don't argue with her anymore, rather you take a seat on the edge of the couch. "He said he'd be here in a few maybe ten minutes." Bonnie tells me you nod, and start to wait.

"Come on Elena, let's get you to bed ya." You can hear Bonnie talking to Elena and then a tiny grumble but nothing else. Footsteps that are loud at first, and then quiet as the two of them make their way up the stairs and to Bonnie's guests room.

Lights come through the blinds of the house, and it's just a moment later when there's a knock on the door. You jump up, rushing towards to the door. When you open it Damon is standing there with his hands on his hips. Staring at you. "Come on honey." Damon says as he stands there waiting for you at the door's frame.

"Okay." You say dopely with a smile on your fface. Grabbing your pruse at the front of the door, and grabbing his hand to walk down the stiars of Bonnie's front porch. Before the two of you can get very far Bonnie is calling out Damon's name. "You take care of her Damon, she's had at least four large glasses of wine. She pours a lot." Damon rolls his eyes, "Of course BonBon." Damon's voice echos through the tree, and night sky.

You cling to his side, as he walks you to the side of his car. The slick blue where you almost see your reflection through the paint. "You should have told me you were having a girls night." Damon says as he opens the passengar door for you. You grumlbe under your breath. "I did Damon, you just forgot." You whine.

Damon comes down to face level with you. Grasping onto the buckle to bolt you into the seaat for the ride back home. Your hand comes up to grab at his cheek. Trying to pull him in closer. "Whatever you're thinking of doing just don't pretty girl." Damon says. The latching of the buckle clicking, and before you know it the door is slamming shut and you watch as Damon walks around the car to the drivers door.

It's not until Damon is driving down the main street to get to the Salvatore residence that your hands get a mind of their own. They go from your lap, to tangled together, to just one of your thigh and the other traveling, in search of the meaty thighs of Damon. When you do finally manage to grab onto the meaty flesh the car swerves a bit. Making your shirek with both excitment and fear. "Missy if you don't put… move your hand." Damon demands. "But what if I don't wanna?" You say shaking your head in his direction. "Love, I know you okay. I know what your playing at and it's not happening." Damon says trying to control his voice.

"I'm not playing about anything." You can barely see Damon shake his head. You move wiggling beneath the belt, to get somewhat closer to Damon. "Please I just wanna touch you Damon!" You beg him. You can feel the heavy air that blows from his nose as he tries to push you away from him as he's driving down the road.

"NO." Damon says adamently. Pushing your wandering hands off his thighs and into your own lap. "Now be a good silent girl, and just sit there until we get home, and then you're going to bed." Damon demands. You huff, but sit there silently.

Just waiting to get home to annoy him further.

Completed on: 10/18/23

Posted on: 11/18/23

TVD-

Requests Master List // Drabble Master List // The Vampire Diaires Master List

#no use of y/n #fluff #fem reader #female reader #requests are open #open requests #requests open #the vampire diaries blurbs #the vampire diaries #the vampire diares icons #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaires rp #the vampire diaries x reader #damon x reader #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes

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lewmagoo · 1 year

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the blessed dawn of christmas day | b. bradshaw

description: in which you give your husband the most precious gift of all

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, no smut but still 18+ because all my works are rated as such

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f!reader (no use of y/n)

notes: oh no, another work i recycled from my old blog. anyway, i love the thought of bradley as a girl dad. you're welcome. also, this is the beginning of my holiday series. who knows how long or short the series will be, but you can expect at least a few more holiday pieces from now until christmas

Christmas morning was a morning that brought with it many different and unique sounds. Familiar sounds, sounds that made your heart swell with love and your lips curl into the biggest of smiles.

This morning, in particular, your ears were picking up on a few things. First was the sound of your husband snoring softly beside you, still sound asleep after a late night of wrapping presents with you. Second, was the sound of not-so-hushed whispering coming from outside your bedroom door.

"Mm, sounds like the littles are awake," a sleep-laced voice murmured against the back of your neck, followed by soft lips ghosting over the skin. You shivered from the contact, but at the same time, it warmed you from your head to your toes.

"I'd say you're right," you replied, shifting to face him. There lay Bradley, in all his messy-haired, rosy-cheeked, skin-wrinkled-from-the-sheets glory. His face broke into a smile before he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, his mustache biting at your upper lip.

"Good morning, darlin’," he hummed against your mouth.

You snuggled deeper into his chest. "Good morning." You glanced at the door then. "Suppose we should let the beasts in," you teased.

“What if I don’t want to let you go?” He mumbled, tightening his grasp on you.

“They’ll probably head to the living room and start on the presents themselves,” you said.

He squinted at the door before nodding. “You’re probably right. Guess we should let them in.”

As you rose from the bed, Bradley closed his eyes, pretending to remain sound asleep as three very excited little girls bounded into the room.

Bradley began to dramatically snore, and squeals of laughter filled the room. "Daddy, Daddy, wake up!" Daisy, your youngest, exclaimed as she jumped onto the bed, roughly shaking his shoulder.

At that point, Bradley had all three of his girls piled on top of him. "You're pretending!" Caroline, the oldest, huffed, folding her arms over her chest.

Suddenly, their father cracked an eye open, and then gasped theatrically. "Wow! What brings you three to my bed so early in the morning?!"

Another fit of giggles, followed by the middle child, Grace, shouting, "it's Christmas!"

"Is it really?! Since when?" Bradley asked in surprise, dark eyes widening in shock.

"Since right now!" Daisy yelled, climbing into his lap and cupping his face in her little hands. Bradley smiled brightly at her, his own much larger hands coming up to rest over her own.

The entire time, you silently watched the exchange, your heart warming at the sight of your family. Watching Bradley interact with his babies would never get old.

"Can we open presents now?" Grace questioned, nearly head-butting her sister as she jumped into Bradley’s lap.

Umber eyes flickered up to your own. "What do ya say, Momma?" he asked you.

"Give me a few minutes, let me make sure everything is set up," you mused, stopping to grab your robe from the bedpost, pulling it on as you headed out into the hall, strolling into the living room.

You paused to turn on the tree lights before making sure all the gifts were set out properly, all while listening to the over-excited laughter and talking that came from down the hall. You couldn't help but grow a little overcome with emotion.

Since your children had come into your lives, Christmas had gained a new meaning. It was no longer about you and Bradley. It was about them, seeing Christmas through their eyes. The joy and excitement it brought them made everything all worth it. There was something so innocent and pure about the way a child experienced Christmas, and even more so with your own kids.

Snapping yourself out of your slight daze, you carried on with your project, spreading out last-minute presents, and stopping to smile to yourself when you came across a small, neatly wrapped box, with a tag that read Bradley’s name. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. Or maybe that was the little life that now dwelled there. Either way, you couldn't wait to present him with the gift, because you knew it would be the best gift he'd receive this Christmas.

Placed so carefully inside the box was a pair of baby slippers. You'd gotten them when you'd first found out that you were having another baby. They were the first present you wrapped, and the little package had been tucked away in your closet, and you’d been teeming with excitement ever since, so eager to give it to him.

There had been so many moments when you'd wanted to cave and just tell him already, but you'd forced yourself to keep your lips sealed. You wanted this to be special. It was unexpected, after all. You hadn't been trying for a baby. In fact, you hadn't even been talking about it at all, you’d decided you were done having children after Daisy was born. However, you really hadn’t taken any serious measures to prevent it, aside from taking birth control. So you weren’t entirely shocked when the pregnancy test you’d bought at the drugstore came back positive.

But the news, when you'd received it, had been welcome. And you knew Bradley would be overjoyed, just like you were. He loved being a father, and would happily welcome another little one into your family.

"Mommy, can we come in yet?!" Came the voice of Daisy. Quickly, you knelt down to shove Bradley’s present to the very back of the tree before standing up and heading to the hallway.

"Yes you may," you announced, and within all of five seconds, the living room was overrun by squealing little girls. Your husband came strolling in behind them, smiling at you and hugging your waist as he kissed your forehead before joining the girls around the tree.

"Okay," he said aloud, "let's see who these presents are for."

As he began handing them out, you took a seat on the couch, watching fondly as he read the name tags dramatically. "To Caroline from Mommy and Daddy," he started, handing the oldest her gift, "to Grace from Mommy and Daddy…to Daisy from Mommy and Daddy…to Grace from Mommy and Daddy..." And so it went.

Once every present was passed out, save for the presents that you both would exchange together after the children opened their own, Bradley came to sit next to you and said, "alright, youngest first. Daisy, go ahead and open your present, baby doll."

With a musical laugh, she eagerly tore into the present that had once been neatly wrapped, discarding the paper carelessly and gasping in surprise when she saw the contents. "A baby!" She cried, holding up the packaged baby doll, a wide grin on her little face. "It’s what I always wanted!"

You laughed at her dramatic exclamation, settling into Bradley’s side as you watched your girls unwrap their presents. Grace was next, opening up a box of Disney princess themed crayons. She beamed, gasping out a "thank you!" Always the little artist, she loved coloring, painting, and everything of the sort.

Caroline was next in the rotation, opening her present of a holiday Barbie, at which her face lit up and she grinned up at you and Bradley. "This is the best! Thanks!"

“You’re welcome, baby,” you replied with a smile, your heart swelling at the sight of your children’s delight.

You cuddled up into your husband's side, humming softly as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You watched your girls tear into the rest of their presents, giggling and shouting and making a mess of the living room. The sight was beautiful, though, and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the entire world.

The morning carried on, present after present opened and strewn across the floor. And once they were all opened, Bradley finally stood, stepping around the tree, where one last present was hidden, covered in a large throw blanket. "Girls, come help Daddy with this," he said, not bothering to hide the smile on his face.

You immediately reached for your phone, intending to photograph this moment that the girls would likely remember for the rest of their lives.

Three little ones came rushing to help their father, and when the blanket was pulled off of the large object, more shrill exclamations of delight erupted, spurred on by the sight of an elaborate dollhouse that your sweet Bradley had spent hours putting together over the last few days, losing sleep in the process. "It's worth it for them," he'd said, when you expressed concern over his lack of sleep.

You watched it all unfold, and laughed in delight as Bradley was nearly tackled to the floor as the girls attacked him with hugs and kisses and thank yous. Once he was finally able to escape the small dog pile under which he’d been trapped, he rose to stand, and glanced over at you, a beam on his handsome face.

“Your daddy built that for you all by himself,” you informed the girls, which only further impressed them.

“You’re the best daddy in the whole wide world!” Grace exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his waist. Promptly, she pulled away to join her sisters as they explored the creation their father had given them.

You sauntered over to Bradley and leaned in to kiss him sweetly. "You did good, Daddy," you said, placing your hands on his chest. His own hands came to rest over yours, warm and familiar.

"Thanks, Momma."

"Want some coffee?"

"I think you know the answer to that question," he mused with a laugh, the smile lines around his eyes crinkling.

"That I do," you replied, soon pulling away from him to stroll into the kitchen. As you did so, Bradley was then bombarded with little girls wanting their toys taken out of their packages. Moments later, he came ambling into the kitchen in search of scissors and box cutters before disappearing back into the living room. He most certainly had his work cut out for him.

Shaking your head, you started on the coffee, setting out two Christmas mugs while it brewed. You didn't worry about starting on breakfast, because Bradley would do that a little later, as he always did on Christmas morning and had since you'd known him.

Minutes later, you came back into the living room with two cups of hot coffee, with yours fixed as you liked it, and Bradley’s black. You laughed at the sight you were met with as you set his coffee on the end table beside him. He was seated on the couch, fumbling with Daisy’s baby doll box as he tried to free the doll without damaging it.

There was garbage all around his feet. Boxes and zip ties and instruction papers. He was extremely focused on the task at hand, tongue sticking out in concentration as he cut and tore at the box.

"Why do they make these things so damn hard to open?" He grumbled.

"Daddy said a bad word!" Grace exclaimed, concern written over her face.

You tried to hide your smile, looking down at your husband as he paused what he was doing. "You're right, I'm sorry," he apologized. Grace immediately forgot about the offense as she began playing with her toys again.

Finally, Bradley got the doll out of its packaging and handed it to Daisy, who promptly hugged it to her chest happily and went to play with her sisters. Bradley let out a breath, falling back against the couch once the last package was finished, but not before grabbing his warm mug of much-needed coffee.

"Always forget how much of a pain in the you-know-what packages are to open," he huffed out, and you only smiled.

"At least they're enjoying their toys." You curled into his side again, coffee clasped in your hands. For a few moments, you sat together, enjoying your coffee and watching the girls play.

"Well, guess I should go start on breakfast," he mused, reluctantly pulling away from you in order to head to the kitchen. As he did so, Caroline came rushing up to you, sitting in Bradley's previous spot.

She held her Barbie in hand, showing it to you. "Look at the pretty headband she has," she softly spoke, marveling at the intricate tiara in the Barbie’s hair.

You reached out to run a finger over the doll's head. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you for the gifts, Mommy," she reiterated, kissing your cheek. Always the polite one, and always the momma's girl.

You kissed her forehead, brushing some of her sleep-mussed hair aside and gazing into her beautiful face. Oh, how she looked like her father. "You're welcome, baby girl."

"I am hungry!" Daisy suddenly announced, standing in the middle of the living room. Directly following, you could hear her stomach growl.

Giggling softly, you stood, lifting her into your arms. At four, she was still small enough to be carried. But you knew in a few months you would no longer be able to do so, because a pregnant belly would get in the way.

"Let's go see what Daddy is making." You flounced into the kitchen, bouncing Daisy on your hip as you went, finding Bradley dutifully putting breakfast together, topped off with a red apron tied around him that had a Christmas tree embroidered into it.

Right at your heels were Grace and Caroline, curious as to what they would be having for breakfast. "Daddy, I wanna help," Grace announced, skipping up to him. Bradley smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling.

"Pull your stool over to stand on and you can help me all you want, baby doll."

Happily, she rushed to the corner of the kitchen, where a little red stool was placed, for occasions such as this. She carried it over, and once it was in place, stood proudly on top of it, eager to help her daddy with breakfast.

"Can we turn on some music?" Caroline asked as she sat at the kitchen table.

"We sure can," you told her, setting Daisy down before leaving the room. The record player Bradley had insisted you get when you were first married, sat in the living room, and beside it was a collection of vinyls. Your Christmas rotation was out currently, and you decided on a classic Nat King Cole Christmas album.

Once the music was playing, you rejoined your family in the kitchen, and the relaxed morning commenced, filled with more giggles, the sounds and scents of food cooking, and impatient children asking when breakfast would be ready.

You set the table while Bradley put the finishing touches on breakfast. You owned a special set of Christmas china that had belonged to his mother, used annually for this particular morning.

Once everything was set up, the five of you sat around the table to eat. The girls, anxious to resume playing with their toys, ate fast, so much so that you had to tell each of them to slow down.

"Mommy, can I go now?" Daisy asked you from across the table, eyes wide with anticipation.

"What do we say when we want to get up from the table?" Bradley asked her, raising an eyebrow. You were still in the process of teaching her proper table manners.

"Um..." She thought for a moment before a lightbulb went off. "Oh! May I be excused?"

"Yes, you may."

Then she was darting away from the table, dashing right back to the living room. The older girls both minded their manners, asking to be excused before running after their sister. Bradley looked at you then, a glimmer in his eyes. "You alright?" He asked, out of habit.

"Never better," you responded, rising from the table and pausing to kiss the top of his head before you began the project that was cleaning off the table. You left the dishes in the sink for later before heading to the living room together, ready to exchange gifts while the girls played.

You sat across from each other on the couch, legs crossed beneath you. A silly little tradition you'd started a few years back was writing cute nicknames on each name tag. Things like To: Mister, From: Missus, To: Beautiful, From: Handsome, and so on. It was cheesy, you knew, but you loved doing it.

The gifts he gave you were wonderful. A perfume you loved, a beautiful necklace with the birthstones of each of your children on the charms, a cozy sweater, and little bits and baubles he'd picked up in his travels with you in mind. You'd spoiled him with just as much, if not a little more.

Once all your gifts were exchanged, and thank yous spoken, you stopped him before he could clean up all the wrappings. "Wait, I have one more present," you murmured, gently grasping his wrist.

His eyes twinkled with curiosity as you rose from the couch. "One more? You've already spoiled me so much, darlin’," he stated, watching you flit across the living room, kneeling down to reach way behind the tree.

You emerged with that small box, wrapped so neatly in metallic paper. Bradley didn't miss the excitement in your eyes or the knowing smile on your face. He eyed you as you placed the box in his hand. "What did you do?" He asked, playfully suspicious.

You sat down across from him again, nodding at him. "Open it."

Gaze lingering on you for a moment longer, he then began tearing open the paper, a little too slow for your taste. In fact, you were certain he was opening it slowly on purpose.

But then, he lifted the lid, and the contents inside were revealed. He was silent as he tossed the paper aside. He looked down at the little box in his hand, and his fingers gingerly traced over the fabric of the little shoes.

You watched him, waiting for his reaction. When he finally looked back up at you, there were tears shining in his beautiful eyes. It was clear that he knew what it meant. “You’re pregnant?”

You smiled, your own eyes welling with tears. “I sure am.”

He glanced down at the shoes again before looking back up at you. "We get to have another one?" He whispered in awe. It made your heart clench in your chest as you nodded, your own eyes glossing over at how precious it all was.

He laughed then, airily, though the knot in his throat hindered it. "Another one." It was as if he couldn’t believe it.

"Yeah," you whispered, letting the tears slip down your cheeks then, freely and unabashedly. "Another one."

You watched this strong, beautiful man grow overcome with emotion in front of you, and he took you into his arms, crying quietly against your neck. However, the precious moment was interrupted by a little voice, riddled with concern.

"Mommy, Daddy, why are you crying?"

Together, you laughed and parted to look at a very fearful Grace. "Come here, baby," you said, patting your lap. At this point, the attention of Daisy and Caroline had also been called, and they both came wandering over quietly.

You wrapped your arms around Grace, turning slightly to face the other two girls as Bradley spoke. "We're crying happy tears. Mommy is going to have another baby."

At his words, the faces of your daughters lit up. "A baby?" Caroline whispered, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes, a baby."

She began clapping in excitement then, while Daisy climbed up onto the couch, taking a spot in Bradley’s lap. "Where is the baby?" She curiously asked. Her father smiled, leaning down to rest his chin on her little shoulder.

"The baby is in Mommy's tummy."

It was her turn to grow wide-eyed, and she gasped, crawling over to you. She touched her hand to your stomach, not even showing yet. "In here?"

"Yes, safe and warm," you gently said.

"When will it come out?"

"In about nine months."

You sat there for a while, talking to your three awestruck daughters, and answering their childlike questions. You glanced up at Bradley in the midst of it all, and you found him gazing at you with such adoration, you were almost brought to tears again.

"I love you," he sincerely spoke over the hushed voices of your children. He couldn't imagine a better person to be the mother of his children. He would never understand how he'd gotten so lucky. If only his mom and dad could see him now. They’d be so proud.

"And I love you."

That Christmas went down as one of the sweetest Christmases you'd ever experienced as a family. You knew you would never forget the joy it had brought, and you were eternally thankful that you had been so blessed with a wonderful husband and three, soon-to-be-four, precious daughters. You would never take those blessings for granted, that was for certain.

(As it would turn out, you would soon find out that you were expecting another girl, giving Bradley the permanent title of Girl Dad.)

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw fanfiction

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hysteriaww · 4 months

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You get kai and bonnie so much together and individually everything you say fits them in canon so well it's too bad the writers really fumbled with them because when kai showed up he was a breath of fresh air and the best part about him is he's all about bonnie that was new and realistic bonkai was their last shot at getting the vampire diaries interest back up again

AH thank you so much for this lovely message, you're so sweet!! Yes, it really is such a shame the writers fumbled Bonkai bc it rly did seem like they had some great ideas there in the beginning, but the execution fell flat :( I feel like Kai was a breath of fresh air not just for us fans but also the cast & crew! U could rly feel their spark of new excitement for a dying show when kai showed up bc i think they all sensed that he was unique and different from the tired, recycled plotlines they'd had since S4.

Ian in particular seemed much more interested in his scenes when Kai was around (and much more lifeless when he wasn't) and Bonnie ofc was *given* much more interesting scenes when Kai was around, compared to prior seasons. Even Alaric & Jo, who started S6 as rick's new boring romance of the season, became relevant, layered and interesting bc of their links to Kai. Like rick loved to play the hero & act like damon was morally beneath him in S6 but his need to protect Jo from Kai brought out a selfish streak that made him go behind Jo & her fam's back to make shady deals w Damon & Kai as long as it kept Jo safe! Even Jo was revealed to be quite crafty considering her backstory of how she tricked & betrayed Kai in 1994, which made her much more interesting than her early role as rick's bland gf.

Even Liv & Luke were (im sorry) SO BORING in S5 but 1000x more interesting in S6 once their story got linked to Kai. His existence single-handedly linked so many disjointed characters & plotlines from previous seasons (like why'd they even bring Rick back after dying in S3? His relationship w Jo (and by extension, Kai) was the only thing that made him relevant for the rest of the goddamn show)! Even the Heretics were introduced to the show through KAI & the gemini/siphoner lore and fully lost steam as soon as Kai wasn't there to make 'em interesting!

As for Kai's links to Bonnie, ya i agree she rly was their last chance to make things interesting bc they'd already given Elena & Caroline "dark" romances that fans were too attached to to accept anything else (see: Delena being forced to stay together; Steroline forever being overshadowed in most fans' minds by Klaroline) so giving Elena & Caroline new pairings would've disappointed fans, whereas Bonnie was a blank slate they could've gone WILD with bc none of her canon pairings had strongly attached fans... yet they gave Elena & Caroline new romances anyway and scrapped Bon's romance with Kai :)))

That is what felt malicious. In S6 alone, they gave Elena who ALREADY HAD DAMON the new guy Liam, then gave Caroline the same guy Liam, Enzo (briefly) AND Stefan, whereas Bon *almost* got Kai & *fully* lost Jeremy in S6. ??? Any writer who paid half as much attention to her fans as Plague did (considering how much ott fan-service she wrote into tvd & how many twitter fights she got into w fans whose ships she disapproved of) HAD to have known her fans wouldn't accept Caroline/Enzo, Care/Stef, Care/Liam or Elena/Liam as much as they loved Care/Klaus & Elena/Damon. Yet she did it anyway bc she preferred LOSING FANS to giving Bonnie someone interesting!

She even planned Kai to be Bon's love interest in S6 bc she thought he wouldn't be popular w fans & instantly torpedoed that once she noticed fans' love for him bc, as I said before, Plague PAID ATTENTION to her fans' reactions. So fans having lukewarm feelings about Steroline was enough to get 'em married, but fans LIKING Kai was enough to get Bonkai axed. It's a common joke that Plague saw Caroline as her self-insert (neurotic, hyper-organized blonde control-freak) which is why she dated more men than even Elena. But I think a large chunk of tvd's white teen girl fans saw Care as a self-insert too (bc w each subsequent season, Caroline was increasingly written & designed that way, which is why fans turned on tvd's original self-insert, Elena, & worshipped Care instead).

Her "im never the one, im not perfect like elena" insecurities made her a blank canvas for (white) girls to see themselves in, which is why she wins Miss Mystic Falls, why she's a privileged Founding Fam member, why she gets to dress fancy & go to Mikaelson balls that have nothing to do w her, why she gets ALL the men, why she becomes the 1st vampire to be pregnant, why she gets to marry Stefan (then instantly lose him so she can go kiss Klaus in the spin-off), why she gets to be tvd's last vampire standing, why she repeatedly gets to have her cake and eat it too. By presenting Elena as "perfect/ideal" & Caroline as an "underdog," fans naturally sympathized more with Care's "struggle" (even tho she repeatedly got EVERYTHING!) Based on this, Plague refused to let ppl like Klaus date Bonnie (which would've made sense) but shoved him w Caroline (which didn't make narrative sense) bc that gave her & white fans the chance to see themselves in Care & feel like THEY were dating Klaus.

(Btw I wanna add that I actually do like & enjoy Caroline! This is a critique of the shadiness that went into *writing* Caroline, not a critique of Caroline herself)

Similarly, Kai was allowed to want Bonnie as long as fans didn't like him, but once he got popular, Plague killed Bonkai bc she believed that she & her (white) fans wouldn't be able to see themselves in Bonnie and feel like THEY were the ones dating Kai. But Kai was not Klaus, Stefan, Damon, Enzo or Kol. His character was CONCEIVED w Bonnie in mind to the point that erasing his obsession w her would make him not even feel like KAI anymore. And that wouldn't work bc fans wanted gucci kai, not walmart kai. Also, his general personality quirks were just not the type that would vibe w Caroline. Chris Wood said it himself, "Kai likes to be the one who talks, he doesn't like to listen, so I think Caroline might make him wanna snap her neck & move on" bc Caroline ALSO likes to talk. So writing him w Care would change Kai too much & writing him w Elena was not an option bc Delena was set in stone & Nina was leaving. So, how'd plague have her cake & eat it too? She refused to let Bon have Kai, and bc there was no other white girl who made sense for him, she kept Kai eternally single so white fans could eternally imagine themselves w him.

And uk what's the worst part? I don't believe all white fans would've necessarily struggled to see themselves in Bonnie if she'd dated Kai. I think Bonnie being the ACTUAL underdog struggler of the show made her very relatable to people, regardless of what your race is (esp bc tvd rarely addressed her race or centered any plotlines on it). I think Plague's own subconscious biases just made it impossible for her to fathom seeing herself in a PoC character, which is why she wrongly assumed all her majority white fans worked the same way & letting Bonkai happen would've disappointed them & made them stop watching. (But that being said, even if it was just a "business decision" to her... isn't it funny how disappointing masses of white klaroline fans didn't stop her from tossing Care at stef, enzo, whoever she wanted, but ONLY stopped her when it came to Bonnie's ships (bc she was looking for excuses to scrap 'em anyway)? Oh plagueee ur biases are showing, girlieee)

#bonkai #kai parker #bonnie bennett #bonnie bennett x kai parker #bonnie x kai #tvd #bonkamily #josette laughlin #caroline forbes #headcanon #asks #mine

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fanfreakinfiction · 7 months

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Listen to the Music

Chapter One: Should've Been a Cowboy

Masterlist 🖤

7.3K Words // Joel Miller x f!southern Reader

Pairing: Joel Miller x younger/southern!reader (Could be video game Joel or HBO Joel. I like the 2003 timeline though, so we’ll just pretend the 2003 timeline is canon for both.)

Chapters:

One - Should’ve Been a Cowboy

Summary: Jackson gets a jukebox which mean’s Joel has to install it! Annoying for him, but exciting for one certain someone who loves music.

Tags: Multipart, SUPER slowburn, eventual smut, FLUFF, age difference, M/F, canon type violence, drinking, smoking, alchol, reader gives off innocent vibes but isn’t, Joel is grumpy, reader is southern, corny ass music transitions bc i love it, slight mention of religion (reader is from the bible belt), some mentions of smut.

A/N: Set in Jackson - probably a little out of canon but just rollll wit it. This is also a split POV! Also if you love 90s country music you will like this. I made a Tipsy Bison Playlist for you guys to check out where none of the music was made past 2003.

Jackson was buzzing, quite literally. Every corner you turned, someone was eager to share the latest news.

"Y/n! Did you hear? Jesse and Astrid brought back that jukebox from the ski lodge! They’re gonna fix it up and put it in the Tipsy Bison!" Olivia shouted breathlessly from the stables' entrance, her jet-black hair falling in disarray around her face.

"Hell 'liv, you ran all the way here to tell me that?" You chuckled, taking a break from shoveling muck in the stables. Your Southern drawl emerged breathy and unusual from not conversing with anyone for the past hour. Wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, you greeted the teenage girl with a warm smile as she rushed to embrace you.

"Well, yeah! Mom said you liked music! Told me to come tell you! Said to meet her and Ginger there at 7:00 sharp!" Olivia exclaimed with contagious excitement.

You laughed, returning the embrace and appreciating the bond you'd formed with the young girl over the years.

The first friend you'd made upon arriving in Jackson was Caroline, a slender woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, and a mouth that matched yours. Hugging her hip was a young girl, Olivia, with jet-black hair and the same blue eyes. At the time, Olivia couldn't have been more than seven. In the four years since, Caroline had become like a sister to you, and Olivia like a niece. It was bittersweet watching her grow up, but you’d protect that little girl with your life.

"Well, your momma is right about that," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind Olivia's ear. "And I hate to tell ya, darlin', but Ellie beat you to it. I heard about the jukebox from her this morning." You turned Olivia towards Ellie, who was busy in the back of the stables, hunched over a worktable, oiling an old saddle Mike had found during a recent patrol.

"Ellie’s here?!" Olivia squealed, running off to join Ellie at the back of the stable.

Shaking your head with a laugh, you turned back to your work, the girls' excited chatter filling the stables.

As 6 pm approached, Ellie abandoned the saddle for a conversation with Olivia. Although it irritated you slightly, it also warmed your heart to see Olivia making friends her age. In this post-apocalyptic world, friends were a rare commodity, especially outside of safe havens like Jackson.

You were only five years old when outbreak day happened. Your parents were at work, and you were at daycare. You vaguely recalled your daycare teacher trying to stay calm, but panic eventually overtook her as she locked all the children in the bathroom. Your grandparents, miraculously, arrived to rescue you. Your grandfather, a Vietnam Vet who’d served two tours before leaving the military, was also a grizzled cowboy. He owned a ranch where he boarded and broke horses.

The most vivid memory you had of outbreak day was your grandfather bursting into the daycare with a .308 Winchester in hand, calling for you frantically. You recalled him nearly pulling your arms out as he scooped you up, then handing you over to your crying grandmother. Your grandfather reprimanded the daycare teacher sternly, instructing her to get the kids to a military outpost at the airport and then evacuate Tulsa. The exact words had faded from your memory.

You remembered the scent of your grandmother's perfume as you clung to her while she carried you out of the daycare. Fighter jets roared overhead, and you covered your ears as your grandmother hurried to their old Jeep. Your grandfather opened the passenger door for your grandmother, and she kissed your head. During the two-hour drive from Tulsa, Oklahoma, to his ranch, your grandmother had you play a game called "Keep Your Eyes On Jesus," where you'd focus on the silver cross necklace she always wore. That day marked the end of your life in the city and your chances of making friends. Your childhood died on the daycare bathroom floor.

"Helloooo, earth to Miss Y/l/n?!" Ellie's voice suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts as you continued to organize bridles, leads, and cinches.

You turned abruptly. "Hmm?" was all you managed as you met Ellie's gaze.

Ellie pointed to her empty wrist, giving you a knowing look. “It’s 6:20,” she said, her tone almost teasing.

"Shit," you murmured, quickly shoving tack items back into makeshift storage bins. Ellie laughed as she headed out of the stables with Olivia in tow.

---

Joel was exhausted, bone-deep tired. His knees ached, his back throbbed, and a relentless headache pounded behind his eyes. All this fuss over a damn jukebox.

Now, don't get him wrong; Joel loved music as much as the next person, and he understood why the whole town was buzzing with excitement. But he felt like people were acting as if they'd found a cure for the infection, not an old jukebox.

And yet, there he was, in the Tipsy Bison, helping to secure the wiring for the ancient contraption. A small crowd of men gathered around, drinks in hand, watching him work. Not a single one offered to help, and Joel knew why, but it still irked him to have the entire town gawking at him.

"You got time for leanin', you got time for cleanin'," Joel's dad used to say when he and Tommy were watching him work.

"Will it work?" Seth's voice interrupted his thoughts from over the bar.

Joel responded with a grunt as he connected two wires, causing the jukebox to spring to life. The bar fell silent, and Joel felt a wave of annoyance—or perhaps embarrassment—wash over him as he sensed everyone's eyes on him.

Slowly, he stood up from his crouched position on the dusty floor, his knees cracking in protest. He examined the jukebox, its lights aglow with a soft, white hue. However, the interior glass was so filthy that the song list was barely readable. His gaze fell on a doorbell wired to the coin slot. Joel pressed it once, his eyes scanning the various lettered and numbered buttons.

"S2," he mumbled to himself, thinking of Sarah as he hovered over the letter. With all eyes in the room on the back of his head, he slowly pressed the buttons into the old metal board of the machine, each button emitting a satisfying 'click.'

Silence enveloped the room, followed by a whirring sound.

Please don't make me look like a fool in front of the whole town, Joel silently pleaded, not caring to whom he addressed his thoughts—God, Satan, or Buddha.

Another click, more whirring, and then the old jukebox started singing like a canary.

"I'm in a hurry to get things done

Oh, I rush and rush until life's no fun

All I really gotta do is live and die

Even I'm in a hurry and don't know why…"

The room erupted into cheers and hollers as the song "I'm in a Hurry" by Alabama filled the space. Joel released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. A hand clapped his shoulder, followed by another pat on his bicep, as various townsfolk expressed their gratitude. He grunted in response, uncomfortable with the attention. He couldn't help but think he preferred it when the town treated him like some cryptid.

"Joel... drinks are on the house tonight. I think this'll be the busiest night since we found that Bud Light truck," Seth said, crossing his arms and standing next to Joel to admire his work. Joel shifted uncomfortably but nodded his thanks to the man.

"So, uh, how does it work with no coins, I mean?" Seth asked, looking at the old doorbell attached to the wiring coming from the coin slot.

Joel let out a soft huff. "That there is the 'coin,' per se. Push it however many times for however many songs, but… I'd maybe limit people to three," he quipped, attempting dry humor.

Seth smiled crookedly. "Yeah, I'd hate to hear the same shit twenty times in one day."

Joel sighed. "Yeah, let me see what I can do about the glass, and it'll be nearly new."

With that, Joel carefully worked the glass out of the jukebox, his eyes widening slightly as he pulled back the grimy cover. He didn't know what he had expected, but this jukebox seemed like a unicorn. As he pulled back the filthy glass, a list of songs greeted him—mostly country music, some '80s hits, and a few oldies like Frank Sinatra. Seth whistled softly behind Joel's right shoulder as the music filled the cozy bar.

"Can't be late, I leave in plenty of time

Shakin' hands with the clock

I can't stop

I'm on a roll, and I'm ready to rock…"

———

The snow crunches beneath your boots as you speed walk through the snow towards your tiny cottage on the outskirts of Jackson. It was a modest two-bedroom, one-bathroom house, but it had a porch with a breathtaking view of the mountains. The unusual emptiness of the streets at this hour suggested that most of the town's residents were either at the Community Kitchen or the Tipsy Bison.

Almost slipping on your porch steps, you chuckled to yourself, attributing it to the icy snow. Unlocking your front door, you immediately shed layers of clothing in a trail leading to the bathroom. Excitement pulsed through you as you started the shower, envisioning the possibilities that the jukebox might hold. Maybe it would play Johnny Cash or some new Alan Jackson track you hadn't heard before. Alan Jackson held a special place in your heart.

Thoughts raced as you hurried through your shower, eager to join the buzz of the town. Drying your hair hastily, you searched for your special occasion jeans. They were a pair of dark-washed Levi's, the kind you'd nearly sold your soul for at one of the general stores. They hugged you perfectly in all the right places and, most importantly, were clean—devoid of stains or blood.

Pulling them up over your hips and buttoning them up, you checked yourself out in the mirror. A dark red sweater with a v-neck and your patrol boots completed the look. You adjusted the silver cross necklace around your neck, a memento from your grandmother, and heard her voice echo in your mind.

"Just keep your eyes on Jesus, baby… we're almost to the ranch."

Breaking your reverie, you felt ready to head out for drinks and music. Slipping into your coat, you ventured out into the sunset-lit, snow-covered streets of Jackson. The Tipsy Bison came into view after a short walk, and your excitement threatened to burst from you. The line outside the bar, however, crushed your spirits.

"No way..." you muttered, coming to a halt. The entire town seemed to be here. You watched from a distance, scanning the crowd until your eyes landed on a blonde-haired woman nearing the front of the line. She turned and made eye contact, flashing a wild smile as she waved you over.

There was a hint of apologetic awkwardness as you joined your friend. Some people in line shot you dirty looks for cutting, but it’s not like the bar’s gonna grow legs and walk away.

"About TIME!" Caroline exclaimed, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you met her outside the bar. "Ginger's already inside; she got us a spot at the bar!" Her excitement was contagious.

"Sorry! I had to go home and change. I didn't wanna come out smellin’ like a horse," you apologized, returning the hug.

"Oh honey, a shower doesn’t change that," she teased, playfully elbowing you.

"Caroline!" You gasped, feigning offense, and lightly elbowed her in return.

Curious, you peered into the bar, attempting to glimpse over the tall men in front of you. Music wafted out, and you heard the buzz of chatter as people walked in and out.

“It’s a shit ton of Country music," you overheard someone say as they walked away, "Well, what’d you expect from a ski lodge in Wyoming in 2003?” came the retort. Caroline shot you a knowing look, and you suppressed a smile.

The line gradually moved forward, and you stepped into the warm atmosphere. Caroline hung up her coat, and you couldn't help but shoot her an envious glance at her overly dressy top – a pink silk halter tied tank top that accentuated her figure beautifully.

“The hell’d you find that?!” You asked, a mix of curiosity and a hint of jealousy in your voice. It made her cleavage stand out, and it seemed perfectly timed as an unfamiliar song started playing from the jukebox, capturing everyone's attention.

“Her hair was Harlow gold

Her lips a sweet surprise

Her hands were never cold

She had Bette Davis eyes…”

Being on your own for so long after your grandparents had passed had made you lose a sense of pride in your appearance. But being in Jackson, surrounded by other women again, ignited that desire to care once more. Caroline had been instrumental in helping you rediscover your femininity, teaching you how to braid your hair and transform dull button-ups into something more womanly. Caroline had been a high school senior when the outbreak happened, with a life and dreams you couldn't relate to. She aimed for Harvard, wanting to be like Elle Woods from a movie called "Legally Blonde." Those aspirations had seemed foreign, considering your upbringing on the Ranch, where your grandfather taught you to care for animals, garden, hunt, fish, and, of course, how to shoot – and shoot well.

Caroline was the first person to make you question your beauty, to make something seemingly frivolous in the apocalypse feel essential.

"I believe that caring for myself isn’t self-indulgent, but rather an act of survival," Caroline had told you when you questioned the worth of bartering for old Avon makeup from the general store.

Caroline took your hand, pulling you toward where Ginger had miraculously saved some standing room at the bar. You hardly noticed as your gaze fixated on the Jukebox, where a line of people awaited their turn to pick a song. Your heart sank a little; you didn't think Caroline or Ginger had the patience to wait for you to choose a song.

Stepping up to the worn wooden bar, you were greeted by Seth's crooked smile. "Be back with ya in a minute, ladies," he said, his old hands moving as fast as they could to serve the bustling crowd.

"Bout time!" Ginger exclaimed as you turned to her. "I didn't think Seth'd let me save space any longer," she added with a laugh, her eyes scanning your and Caroline's outfits with admiration. "Damn girl! What'd you have to sell for those?!" She playfully ran her hand over the material of your jeans.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. "Oh, you have NO idea!" you began, but before you could continue, Seth returned.

"Two whiskeys, please," Caroline ordered for both of you, prompting you to resume your story. "You wouldn't believe it, okay..."

"Here we go..." Caroline rolled her eyes, and you playfully nudged her. Ginger hadn't heard this story before, and you were eager to share.

"I was rummaging through a house right after I'd left the ranch, and I found a Walkman! Battery-operated and a whole box of cassettes," you explained as Seth brought the whiskey back. Ginger listened intently as you continued. "I picked up some of the names I recognized from the pile. I ended up with like 10 tapes and a whole pile of batteries!" You took a swig and leaned on the bar top, facing Ginger, while Caroline leaned on your shoulder, clearly having heard this story many times before.

"Who were the tapes of?" Ginger asked, taking a swig of her dwindling beer.

"So I had an Alan Jackson cassette, I had a Shania Twain cassette, hmm oh! Johnny Cash's greatest hits, which were technically four tapes, one Journey cassette, George Strait, and then I even found a Marty Robbins tape!" You listed the tapes off, trying to recall them all.

"Sooo? What's this got to do with those Levi's?!" Ginger asked, laughing.

"Well, damn, hold on, sister, I'm tryna set the story up!" you retorted with a laugh.

"Anyways," you continued, "one day I'm navigating some thick woods. My headphones are around my neck, and I still have the music goin'. Well, I clipped the Walkman to the hip of my pants, and this fuckin' infected came outta nowhere!" You gestured dramatically with your hands. "This thing fuckin' leaps on me and pushes me up against a tree—"

"—crushes the Walkman!" You and Caroline said in unison, and all three of you burst into laughter, drawing the attention of others in the bar.

Tears welled in your eyes from laughing as you recounted the memory. "I'd never been so fucking mad in my life!" you recalled, trying to catch your breath. "I also haven't cried as hard since the day I lost that thing," you said dramatically as you took a drink. "Almost wish it'd bitten me instead of killin' my fuckin' Walkman," you added bitterly.

"Well, what did you do to it?" Ginger asked curiously.

"The infected? Oh. I fuckin' stomped that thing's head in," you deadpanned, throwing Ginger and Caroline into another fit of laughter. "Like... a lot," you repeated, deadpan again as you took another drink. "Fuckin' thing destroyed my Alan Jackson tape...anyways, I held onto the tapes, maybe out of bitterness. But once I got to Jackson, I traded the tapes for the jeans." Ginger made an "Oooh" sound, nodding as if she now completely understood.

Caroline tapped you on the shoulder, about to say something, when the sound of a very familiar song filled your ears, and you had to bite back the squeal that threatened to escape.

"It's Alan Jackson," you said, your eyes gleaming with a serious excitement that caught Ginger's attention.

"Come on," you said, pulling Caroline with you onto an opening in the bar floor as the chorus hit. You pulled her into a two-step, a dance you had seen your grandparents do every year on their anniversary.

"I should've been a cowboy

I should've learned to rope and ride

Wearin' my six-shooter,

ridin' my pony on a cattle drive

Stealin' the young girls' hearts

Just like Gene and Roy

Singin' those campfire songs

Woah, I should've been a cowboy…"

You sang unabashedly, as if you, Caroline, and Alan Jackson were the only ones in the bar. Your head threw back in laughter after Caroline begrudgingly tried to match your steps. After a moment, you were so engrossed in your dance that you didn't even realize other people had joined in, dancing to the music. Ginger laughed from her spot at the bar as she watched your and Caroline's forgotten whiskeys.

———

Seth had been right. This was the busiest Joel had ever seen the Tipsy Bison. Brooding in the corner of the bar, tucked into a dimly lit table, Joel sat, nursing his fourth glass of free whiskey.

Shit. If Seth was offering, he wasn't gonna say no to free drinks.

Joel's tired eyes scanned the room as he tried to determine who he recognized and who he didn't. His gaze landed on a particularly familiar set of eyes. Tommy.

He watched as Tommy approached the secluded table, offering a crooked smile to the man.

"Big bad Joel fixed the jukebox?" Tommy teased as he sat down across from Joel.

"Did it for the free drinks," Joel retorted, attempting to deflect the sudden unwanted attention, his face flushing as he averted his brother's gaze.

"Well… you may have just earned some points with Maria," Tommy said with a genuine smile.

Joel smirked back. "Guess something good did come from this after all." He could feel the whiskey settling deep in his chest as he spoke to his brother.

Tommy glanced around at the crowd, but a roar of laughter snapped both of their heads toward the bar. Three women stood a few feet away, listening to one woman tell a story.

Joel narrowed his tired eyes. He didn't recognize the woman engrossed in her story. However, he did recognize the blonde with the revealing pink blouse. She scanned the patrons of the bar like a hawk, looking for her next prey and obviously uninterested in her friend's story.

The woman had approached Joel two days after he arrived with Ellie, asking to bum a cigarette and then bombarding him with a thousand questions as she batted her eyelashes at him. Her name was something like Karen, he couldn't quite recall. But when another bout of laughter reached his ears, his gaze locked onto your form, now less hidden behind the woman with her back to him.

He watched almost mesmerized as you laughed and smiled. Pretty, was the only thing his brain could manage. Suddenly, your face became very serious as you said something that made the two girls howl in laughter.

Tommy cleared his throat after an awkward silence, and Joel realized he had been completely caught staring at you. Their eyes met, and his little brother looked like he was about to say something smart, but Alan Jackson's music broke Tommy's focus.

"Holy shit! I forgot this song existed!" Tommy exclaimed with a nostalgic laugh.

Joel's attention was drawn back to the bar by another bout of laughter. Except, now, you had migrated to the middle of the room. Your arms were placed perfectly on the blonde chick as you began dancing. The blonde appeared obviously embarrassed by the sudden change, making a face of disdain. You laughed, the sound caressing Joel's ears, and he felt something stirring in him. Maybe it was the whiskey, but deep down, he knew it wasn't.

He and Tommy watched carefully as more patrons began to crowd the space, joining in the dance. Tommy let out a huff of laughter, his eyes now focused on the scene. As the song ended, everyone clapped, and Seth, the bartender, felt it appropriate to make an announcement.

"Everyone, thank Joel on your way out! He fixed up the jukebox," Seth declared, and a wave of applause and stares washed over Joel.

Joel could feel a flush creeping into his face at the attention. He cringed inwardly as all he could manage was a stupid smirk while looking down at his whiskey glass.

"Jukebox Joel!" someone in the crowd cheered, and Tommy choked on the beer he was drinking. Joel delivered a swift kick to Tommy's shin.

"Haha! What? Come on… it's better than Jackass Joel," Tommy laughed with a smirk as he teased Joel.

Joel actually let out a soft chuckle at that and shook his head as he looked back down at his empty glass. "Prick," Joel muttered softly as he glanced up at his little brother. "I'm gonna go get another." With a sigh, he pushed himself up from the table and made his way toward the bar to get another drink.

———

"I'm gonna go have a cigarette. Save me a spot!" Caroline swiftly moved to grab her coat, leaving you and Ginger at the bar.

Ginger looked at you. "So how's the stables?"

"Mmm, they're fine. I've recently gotten some help from this teenager, Ellie," you replied as you finished off your whiskey, paying no mind to the man who muscled in on Caroline's vacant space behind you.

"Is she a good help?" Ginger asked as she also finished off her beer.

"Depends on the day," you said with a soft laugh. "She's a great listener, just a little poor on the completion side of things. Like today, I asked her to oil this saddle Mike brought in from a patrol. Olivia stopped by to see me, and sure enough, Ellie just ended up talking with her for the last hour of the day. It's like she won't shut up. I swear, these outbreak babies are somethin' else," you added with an exasperated sigh. "She's a good kid, though. Smart as hell. I'm just mad I'll have to get up early to finish oiling the saddle before patrol." You finished with a final smile as you looked up to make eye contact with Ginger, who appeared as if she'd seen a ghost. She wasn't even looking at you but over your shoulder.

"Ginge?" you asked worriedly, placing a hand on her shoulder to shake her a bit.

"I'm gonna go grab a cigarette," she said hurriedly, shaking your hand off her as she all but ran out of the bar, leaving you standing there stunned.

In an instant, your senses tingled with the presence of an imposing, commanding figure emanating a cocoon of warmth from the shadows behind you. A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine, and a cascade of goosebumps rippled across your skin as you executed a deliberate, almost theatrical pivot to meet the piercing gaze of none other than Joel Fucking Miller.

———

If Joel had a dollar for every face he'd seen turn away from him in fear, he would've been a millionaire twelve years ago. But nothing felt as satisfying to him as watching your little friend scamper off to leave you with him.

He waited patiently for you to turn around before he spoke. His eyes drifted from the back of your head, tracing the contours of your figure, to rest on the soft curve of your ass. The sight made his breath hitch, and his gaze locked onto a familiar little red tag that stared back at him—Levi's.

Fuck he thought to himself. Those must've cost a pretty thing like you a whole lot.

After what felt like ages, you finally turned to meet his gaze. Your soft, youthful face surprised him. You were young, younger than him, maybe even younger than Sarah would've been.

Your lips parted slightly as you gazed up at him with your fucking doe eyes. His eyes traveled south from your lips to the silver cross around your neck. He cringed internally, his gaze shifting away from your neck as he signaled to Seth at the bar.

"Mr. Miller..." Your voice fell warily from your lips, carrying a soft southern accent that caught his ear.

Joel grunted softly. "Mhmm," he replied, waiting for Seth to bring his last whiskey of the night. He had to force himself to look away from you.

"You're… Ellie's dad?" Your voice sounded sheepish, not in the usual "I'm scared of you" kind of way he was accustomed to in this town, but in a "I messed up" kind of way. He spared a glance at you, noticing how you fidgeted with your hands and struggled to make eye contact, trying to look up at him apologetically.

"Mhmm," was all Joel settled for after a long pause. Your face paled, and he had to look away to keep from laughing.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Miller!! Ellie has been a great help, and I'd love for her to st—" You sounded panicked, and he didn't like it.

"Kid's got ADHD or somethin'. Can't finish anything she starts…unless it's food or a sentence," the words flew from Joel's mouth before he could process what he had just said. Seth rounded the bar at that moment and handed Joel his whiskey.

Joel took the glass and was about to take a sip when your giggle froze him in his tracks. It wasn't a laugh or a chuckle, but a full-blown giggle.

"Haha! She is very food motivated! Sometimes I catch her going for the sugar cubes that are meant for the horses," you laughed as you spoke to him. Joel looked down at you with a crooked smirk, sipping his whiskey as he turned his attention back to his glass.

"Well… uhm, I should probably..." Your voice trailed off with a hint of uncertainty, and from his peripheral vision, Joel could make out a flush on your cheeks as you tried to awkwardly excuse yourself from his presence.

"You let me know if she gives you more trouble..." What the hell was he doing? Was he actually talking right now or was it the whiskey? Slowly, he turned to look at you, his left arm resting on the bar as he slowly set his glass down, shoving his right hand in his belt loop. You were flushed, perhaps you'd had too much to drink? Or maybe it was... nah. He looked into your eyes, his gaze searching yours for a moment before dropping to that stupid silver cross on your neck. He wanted to rip it off your neck while burying himself deep inside you. Your voice brought his attention from your neck and his thoughts to the present, where he stared into your eyes.

"Yeah… I, uh... I will." You almost sounded confused and curious. You were biting your lip, your face still flushed, your hair framing your face perfectly. He had to stop himself from grabbing you by the back of the head and forcing himself on you. "Thanks for fixin’ up the jukebox..." Long gone was the shy demeanor as your words came out like sultry silk. You stared back at him seriously, and he could tell you were being genuine. He tried to swallow the sudden dryness the whiskey had left in his mouth. His aching back and throbbing knees from fixin’ the damn thing long forgotten as he rolled your thanks around in his head.

Damn.

He grunted in response and, with a white-knuckle grip on his whiskey glass, he forced himself to walk away. He passed by you, his form squeezing around yours in the crowded bar as people danced. He forced himself to look straight ahead when your left shoulder grazed his chest as he nudged past you gently. He slinked his way back to his table in the corner, where Tommy and Maria now occupied two of the four chairs.

As soon as he approached, they eyed him and stopped talking almost immediately. Tommy spoke up first with a smirk. "So uh..."

"Shut it," Joel snapped, his words coming out harsher than he had intended, and Maria huffed.

"Be nice. You're on my good side for the night. Don't make that change before I've even had a chance to enjoy it," she glared at him. Leave it to Tommy to pick a hardass for his wife.

"She's nice, Joel, but... she's young," Maria said with a sigh.

He felt angry heat flicker in his belly, replacing the momentary desire. He glared at Maria, who stared right back at him, and he felt his jaw tighten, his teeth grinding.

"Hon, why don't we go dance... enjoy it while we can?" Tommy's voice rang out, and for once, Joel was thankful for his baby brother.

He watched carefully as Maria reluctantly agreed and let Tommy lead her away. Tommy shot Joel a knowing look as he disappeared into a sea of people. Joel settled back into his seat from before, his eyes scanning the now dancing and raucous crowd.

Unconsciously, he found himself searching for you, scanning the spot where you'd stood with your friends, but it was now occupied by some other men.

———

"What the fuck, Ginger?!" You spat harshly as you confronted the two girls who were practically shivering outside, puffing on a shared cigarette.

"What do you mean 'what the fuck'? You were runnin' your mouth about the scariest man in town's daughter!" Ginger retorted, a mischievous laugh escaping her lips. "I wasn't about to stand witness to you getting your teeth kicked in!" she added, taking another drag.

"Wait, you saw Joel Miller?!" Caroline chimed in as she put out the cigarette.

"Saw him?! She damn near insulted his daughter in front of him!" Ginger laughed, and you could feel your cheeks redden.

"I didn't know he was behind me! You could've said something! I had to apologize, standin' there like an abandoned idiot!" You playfully frogged Ginger on the arm, your accent growing thicker with anger.

"Ow!" Ginger winced as she rubbed her skinny arm through her leather coat.

"Wait, you actually talked to him?!" Caroline asked as if it were an impossible feat.

"Well, yeah. I felt kind of bad… Ellie is a good kid, she's just very talkative," you explained, crossing your arms to ward off the cold.

"And he talked back?" Caroline continued her interrogation.

"I mean if you can call a couple of pig-like grunts talking, then yeah, I guess," you replied with a shrug.

"Hmm…" Caroline offered as she gave you a once-over. "Come on, let's get back inside." She headed into the bar, with you and Ginger following behind.

The night passed fairly uneventfully, save for a few men asking for a dance. Caroline, as usual, was the star of the night, charming most of the men into buying her drinks and joining her on the dance floor. Ginger cozied up to a man you recognized from the kitchen, someone she had been with before. You were starting to feel the fatigue kick in when you realized the line for the jukebox had drastically shortened. Excitedly, you made your way to the magical machine, your eyes scanning the list of songs. You were in awe of the extensive selection: Journey, Patsy Cline – one of your grandmother's favorites, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and some you didn't recognize at all, like Linda Ronstadt, ABBA, Earth, Wind & Fire…

You didn't even notice a presence near the bar, watching as you scanned the list in awe. Your fingers guided you, pressing the doorbell button connected to the coin slot, as you had watched so many people do all night.

Your fingers grazed over the letter "J" for Joe—Jesus. "J" for Jesus, you mentally reprimanded yourself. Then you moved to a number, "5," your age on outbreak day. You listened to the machine click and whir in amazement. Unsure of the song title or the artist, you waited to hear the first chords.

"Came in from a rainy

Thursday on the avenue

Thought I heard you talking softly

I turned on the lights, the TV, and the radio

Still, I can't escape the ghost of you..."

Leaning on the jukebox, you listened to the foreign song by a band called Duran Duran. The lyrics suddenly made you feel melancholic as you absorbed each word.

"What has happened to it all?

Crazy, some'd say

Where is the life that I recognize? (Gone away)"

———

Joel couldn't help himself. He wanted to blame the whiskey, but deep down, he knew he wasn't even close to drunk. From his spot at the far end of the bar, he watched as you walked up to the damn jukebox. You looked like a kid on Christmas, that twinkle in your eye, just like Sarah when he threw her a surprise birthday party with all her friends, or like Ellie at the Museum…

He watched you hesitate when it was your turn to pick a song. His eyes drifted to those Levi's, like they had been poured onto you. The way they clung to your curves made his mind wander. He imagined himself coming up behind you in his kitchen while you prepared to cook something that he had hunted. His chest tucking into the curve of your back while he pressed his hips into the curve of your ass. The thought shot an arrow of fire straight to his groin. Fortunately for him, Maria's voice echoed in his head. "She's nice, Joel... but she's young." He knew Maria wasn't bullshitting him about that. You hardly looked the same age as the women you hung around with.

His gaze shifted from the curve of your hip to the profile of your face. From this angle, he could watch your eyes scanning the song choices. He wondered what you would choose and, for a fleeting moment, told himself that if you picked a slow song, he'd have to ask you to dance. He watched your face crinkle slightly as you read through the songs, likely because you didn't recognize most of them. Sipping his whiskey, he waited to see the outcome.

He observed as your fingers grazed the buttons until making their final destination. He couldn't help but imagine what those fingertips would feel like grazing his body in the same tender way. Your smile lit up when the jukebox whirred to life, and he released a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding when the song "Ordinary World" by Duran Duran began playing. It was an odd choice, he thought to himself.

The semi-familiar song filled the now-dwindling bar. Couples still danced, others nursed their beers, and some chatted. His eyes remained locked on your face as you listened intently. He could tell you had chosen the song on a whim, not knowing it. He sat and watched as the once-childlike wonder on your face slowly dissolved into a heartbreaking frown, one that he had seen a hundred times before on different women's faces.

Heat rose on his cheeks as he watched the blonde from earlier drunkenly sling her arm over your shoulder. Suddenly, he felt like a creep for watching you for so long. He turned his gaze back to his now-empty glass as Seth came over to offer him another. Politely declining, Joel stood up slowly, adjusted his coat, and, feeling a pang of regret, he slipped out the side door of the bar.

"But I won't cry for yesterday

There's an ordinary world

Somehow I have to find

And as I try to make my way

To the ordinary world

I will learn to survive"

———

"Come on, kiddo… time for you to walk me home," Caroline hummed in your ear, her arm slung around you. Her alcohol-laden breath pulled you out of your self-wallowing music session. You slid your left arm around her waist, providing some balance as she leaned her head on your shoulder.

"My dad loved Duran Duran…" Caroline slurred into your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine. She had only mentioned her father once before, and it had been followed by a request never to bring it up again. Hastily, you changed the subject and led her to the entrance of the bar to retrieve her coat.

You grabbed her dark purple barn coat and draped it around her shoulders, making sure she was bundled up, then zipped up your own coat tightly. Caroline took your hand as you began to walk, leaning heavily on you. It had to be late because as soon as you stepped outside the Tipsy Bison, you felt your hair freeze. Both your and Caroline's breath fogged up the space in front of you as you surveyed the mostly empty streets of Jackson. Caroline's house was on the other side of town, and you mentally prepared yourself for the chilly walk ahead when Caroline made a mumbled noise into the crook of your neck.

“‘S lookin at you all night..” she murmured as you helped her navigate the snow-covered streets.

"Hmm, darlin'?" you asked, guiding her carefully.

"He was lookin' at you!" she repeated, a bit louder this time.

Confused, you adjusted your hold on her to prevent any accidental slips that could bring both of you down in the snow. "Who was lookin'?" you inquired, but she didn't reply. Suddenly, she went limp in your arms, and you let out a soft yelp at the abrupt change in weight.

"Carol?!" you called, trying to stifle a laugh as she put her full weight on you. "Shit. How much did you drink, darlin'?" you groaned, realizing that you were going to have to carry her home.

The walk across town to Caroline's house had left you wide awake. After taking her shoes off and tucking her into bed alongside a peacefully sleeping Olivia, you left the house quietly, ensuring the door was locked behind you. Stepping back out into the night, you were greeted by the sight of the quiet town, blanketed in snow with darkness settling in. A shiver ran down your spine as you took in the serene atmosphere.

You began your journey toward your own home, which lay on the opposite end of town. However, as you walked, your thoughts wandered back to the saddle that Ellie hadn't finished oiling. Despite your tiredness, you knew that if you went home now, you'd simply lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to sleep. With a sigh, you turned on your heel and headed back towards the stables, your hands shoved deep into your pockets to ward off the cold.

As the stables came into view, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. The door was ajar, and a soft light spilled out from within. You knew you had closed up for the night, and the thought of leaving a kerosene lamp burning in a barn full of hay and the town's most prized mode of transportation was, unthinkable.

An uneasy thought crossed your mind; maybe it was Maria or Tommy, someone needing to head out for a late-night patrol. However, such occurrences were rare unless there was an emergency. With cautious steps, you entered the stables as quietly as you could, your senses on high alert.

To your chagrin, you found the horses calmly chewing on the hay you had left for them hours ago. The pit in your stomach deepened as you scanned the area, trying to discern any signs of an intruder.

"H...Hello?" you called out, your voice sounding uncharacteristically shaky even to your own ears. You couldn't help but think sarcastically, Oooh, very threatening. In that moment a thought crossed your mind that maybe Jackson was making you soft. You stood there, waiting for a reply, but there was none.

Confused and still on edge, you carefully followed the source of the soft lantern light. It led you to the back of the stables and into the tack room, your footsteps echoing softly in the enclosed space.

There, almost right where Ellie had left it, you saw the saddle that Mike had found on his patrol. However, what caught your attention in the dimly lit room was the unmistakable sheen across the leather. It gleamed in the lantern light, catching your eye immediately. It had been fully oiled, a stark contrast to the untouched condition it had been in earlier when Ellie had been working on it.

Confusion wracked your body; did Joel make Ellie come back to oil the saddle? Your fingers gingerly rubbed the leather between your fingers. No, this wasn’t Ellie’s work; this was oiled to perfection. Ellie was a good kid, hell, a great kid considering all the other children who’d grown up in this hellscape, but she oiled saddles like she was pouring syrup on pancakes. No, this had been done by someone with skill and experience.

A soft smile crossed your face as you reached for the lantern. Maybe Joel Miller wasn't the monster your friends had told you about after all. You'd have to ask Ellie in the morning.

As you stepped out of the barn, relocking everything up for the night, you couldn’t shake the warm feeling in your gut. A feeling you hadn’t felt since you’d eaten your last meal with your grandparents... a feeling that scared you.

Unbeknownst to you, a dark figure across the street watched from the shadows, illuminated only by the orange glow of his lit cigarette as he leaned against a column under the roof of the general store. Joel took a drag from his cigarette as he watched you relock the barn for the night. He tried to tell himself the warm feeling in his chest was from the cigarette he'd been puffing on, but he knew better.

Joel took one last drag from his cigarette, flicked it to the ground, and crushed it beneath his boot before heading home, maybe something good came from that damn jukebox after all… he thought to himself as his eyes followed your form walking off into the snowy darkness of Jackson.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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gaymurdersalad · 4 months

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[ Hello everypony! Don’t mind the ritual robes. Dress for the job you want, ya know? And all I want to do is serve our lord and savior Godred!

I thought as a fun little thing to do in between sacrifices, I would give out some headcanons— well. These are my guys, are they headcanons? Not really. Uhm, facts, I guess— on how they do their holidays! Take ‘em or leave em, you’ll soon find I love rambling about the guys. You might regret this.

———

Peter and Caroline used to do the whole Catholicism thing, so they definitely did celebrate a good Christmas! However after the whole “disappearing for several years and coming back with a phone for a head” thing that Peter did, all faith in God was lost, but they still like to give eachother presents. The star on top of the tree is a grim reminder of a lordless plane. Except for the almighty Godred, mind you!

Steven sits alone in his restaurant with vague feelings of something or other. The establishment doesn’t even close— because why would it, it’s a Fazbender’s— so he has plenty of time to sit in an empty restaurant and think about nothing. Peter has invited him to Christmas but quoteth Steven, “That sounds great and all, but I’ve actually got my own plans.” Of which are trying to remember what the fuck a “Christmas” is and why it has any value to people other than market value. If it piques your interest at all, him and his boyfriend semi-celebrated but not really, as Steven was raised Christian {LONG since abandoned} and his boyfriend was Muslim. That’s all gone now, though, unbeknownst to the phone-man in question.

Dee spends time with the souls in the Flipside. She enjoys it very much, despite the grimness of it all. Even though she would much rather being alive and spending time with her family, she knows she has responsibilities.

Henry works. On stuff. He’s just sitting in his office right now, I could totally waltz in there and sacrifice him to Godred. Just pick that bastard up and get goin’. Oh, he’d be kicking and screaming, but he’s a midget with small hands and can’t do nothin’ against an ethereal phone creature with a complete and utter devotion to almighty Godred... Maybe after this.

Oscar doesn’t celebrate Christmas, and actually hates it. Finds every bit of Christmas decor annoying to his astigmatism and just grating anyways. Oh, fucking shit, the jingle bells never stop. Everything is annoying. He cannot enter his beloved coffee shop— Fazbucks; it’s like Starbucks but they don’t donate to stupid bullshit! The CEOs just spend the money on bribing health inspectors throughout Fazbender chains! What? No, no, they still pay their workers in faztokens— without being utterly assaulted by MIRIAH. Even if Christmas wasn’t annoying, he wouldn’t celebrate it anyways, because he’s Jewish. So is his family! Where the hell is his family? Where does— Where the hell does Oscar live, does he have a house? I- I’m realizing I didn’t get to know him that much, I think he just… Showed up here. You- Uhh, you get the point.

Dave has a ritual and has been performing this ritual for three years straight. First, he wakes up in the dumpster of the week, gets dressed, and climbs out of that disgusting sucker. Normal morning routine ensues, Y’know, he takes a couple random pills for the hangover and pops a thing of LSD if he’s feelin’ chipper, shaves with a switchblade he usually finds in the Fazbender Ballpits, and sets out onto the world. Since it is a special day— not in accordance to any religion, but to his own fucked up morals and values— he breaks into a liquor store and takes what he pleases! All assortments of liquors and cigarettes, and he stuffs them all into a duffel he usually manages to scavenge for beforehand. Once he’s a proper Santa Claus with a bag of stolen substances slung over his shoulder, he jacks a piece of shit car— he figures he’s doin’ them a favor, ‘cause who would want to own this shit box anyway?— and drives 90 to the Old Sport residence. Once he arrives, parking his car in the yard and fucking up the grass with those giant fucking tire tracks, Jesus Christ, Sportsy’s gonna have to fix that, he stomps up to the door with the duffel and knocks fifteen times with the palm of his giant fucking hand. If Sportsy don’t answer, more knocking ensues, probably followed by several obscenities and slurs. Eventually, Old Sport opens the door, and before the stout fucker can beat him with the baseball bat he stole from a bar in Las Vegas, Dave slips in and throws the bag down on the floor. Sportsy, after experiencing this for the past couple years, holds his head in his hands and groans. Loudly. Dave wraps Old Sport in this big hug, pickin’ him up off the ground all while Sportsy frowns in discontent. They spend the rest of the evening sitting on the couch boozing and watching shitty Christmas specials, and Dave crashes on Sportsy’s couch at 8 PM.

Until the arrival of Dave, Jack sits in bed. Don’t even bother to put on makeup. In the back of his head he kind of knows that the wretched purple beast will show up at his house, but he maintains a little hope that he won’t. He always does. He supposes it’s nice to have a day where Dave isn’t spending a day with him solely to recruit him into the whole kid-killing business again, but… Man, when the liquor hits, he realizes just how sad it is that his only consistent friend is a child murderer. Fuck. Once Dave crashes, Jack is usually stuck underneath him as some sort of pillow, and at this point, he’s so burnt out and sad and happy and bitter that he just lays there. Watching those shitty Christmas movies. He’s going to wake up with the worst headache tomorrow.

Legacy does not do anything special and David stopped trying to a while ago. Business carries on as usual. Maybe David would like to go out and do something or have Legacy sit still for one measly second so he could give him some kind of gift, but knowing the Orange Bastard, he’d likely reject it or throw it out. Maybe spending time with Legacy is a gift in of itself, David thinks, incorrectly.

———

Was that everyone? There are so many of the guys! Good lord, half of them are maniacs too. I couldn’t be prouder!

Well, I’ve got some sacrificin’ to do! Goodbye! Remember: Godred Loves You! ]

~ Mod Chribs

#not salad #salad lore #blood #blood tw

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hermionesmoon · 13 days

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things about my vampire diaries dr:

i scripted my love Hermione in, i made this whole big backstory for her and us but to keep it short she was a siphoner witch who got turned into a vampire in 1994 so she became a heretic and in september of 2024 (it’s mordern day in my dr, sorry) she moves to virginia from london to attend whitmore and that’s when we meet

the timeline is kinda complicated im shifting for some of the plot but some things didn’t/won’t happen like the plots of season 6 and 7 won’t happen but i’m shifting to season 3 a little bit after klaus turned tyler into a hybrid but it went down differently in my dr but it’s hard to explain cause i don’t even really know how it went down i’m just winging it but klaus is not as ruthless so after that he kinda just leaves us alone my reasoning for this is because it’s gonna be the beginning of the summer in my dr and i want to have a chill summer without ppl trying to kill me and my friends but after we start college back THAT’S when the show plot is gonna start happening again (oh and tyler didn’t get sired to klaus)

i met caroline and elena in kindergarten but i knew bonnie all my life because her grams and my grandma were best friends and our moms became best friends

i’m a witch and i do plan on becoming a vampire at some point probably about a year or so after i shift there and i’ll become a heretic cause i NEED to be both.

my blood can cure werewolf bites

i may or may not have scripted im the most powerful being in existence and that will ever exist and same thing with the witch bloodline i come from…

my moms a witch

elena’s not gonna turn into a vampire, well at least not until a few years or if something different happens main reason being rebekah was the one to run her off the road and kill her in the show but rebekah gets along with us in my dr so that won’t happen

this is so random but stefan and damon have a big ass pool in their backyard.

bonnie’s grams and lexi are alive

elena and stefan will stay together, ya know unless they have some problem of there own(my 13 year old self would be screaming and crying rn, that was my man fr) but delena isn’t gonna happen (not for any particular reason but i do think bonnie and damon would be cute so who knows)

klaus didn’t make stefan turn his humanity off

my friends:

elena

bonnie

caroline

stefan

matt

tyler

damon

rebekah

i’m shifting to so many places i wanna talk about my stranger things dr next

#reality shifting #shifting community #reality shifter #shifting #shifting antis dni #desired reality #shiftblr #the vampire diaries dr #the vampire diaries #shifting to tvd #i’m really excited for this dr #8th grade self is doing backflips rn #permashifting

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madlysage · 28 days

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my stardew valley bachelorette headcanons… again super niche and definitely just me being insufferable

leah

- grew up in the south and still has a little twang when she speaks

- loves fleetwood mac and all 70s rock

- tried to make her own wine and elliott made harvey give her a stern lecture on botulism

- a serial dater with a string of bad ex-boyfriends in her wake (she was just a lesbian all along but that wasn’t accepted where she was growing up)

- a baby gay who still gets flustered when flirting with girls

- befriended the hat mouse and is still trying to convince elliott that he’s real

- dyes her hair but insists she’s a natural redhead (her mom was one and she always wanted to emulate her)

i always picture kennedy walsh (icon that she is)

haley

- the closet is glass babe (lesbian/possibly pan)

- wanted to go to college for photography and studio art but was worried it would put financial strain on emily

- secret little crush on leah because she loves her art and her artistic eye

- her and emily were raised by a single dad who passed away unexpectedly- it’s part of the reason she has a hard time opening up to ppl

- left anonymous mean notes about clint on the town message board for WEEKS after she found out he was hitting on emily

- uses her dad’s camera: it’s very sentimental to her

perf- would def be into clean girl makeup

emily

- nobody is quite sure about emily’s sexuality… including emily!

- very into spirituality- crystals, spirits, astrology, luck etc.

- makes alex uncomfortable anytime he comes over: she doesn’t realize she’s starting contentious political debates with him

- makes all her own clothes and hasn’t bought anything new in 3 years

- writes sweet notes to shane on the bar napkins when she can see he’s rlly going through it

- wears crystals in her bras

- stole haley’s diamond earrings for a gem mediation (it did not go over well)

- makes elliott quills with her parrot’s dropped feathers

but picture the hair blue ya know: don’t cast elle fanning as a character in a fandom challenge level impossible bro

penny

- bicon

- my image of penny is Filipino… stardew needs more diversity gonna be so real

- went to college for education and got her teaching license but had to move back home because of the debt

- learned how to do maru’s hair after she complained about how long it took

- watches old movies with maru every weekend and they do a book swap once a month

- sam is the only one who will eat her cooking (but he’ll eat anything… especially if penny made it)

- lets maru come in and give guest teaching sessions in science and math to jas and vincent

-started drinking coffee just to have an excuse to drop some off to maru and harvey at work

likeeeee beabadoobee just makes the perf penny i can’t explain it’s the vibe

maru

- lesbian queen

- my autistic love

- graduated highschool early: got a full ride to school and double majored in nursing and engineering before going to nursing school (graduated early from that too ofc)

- lives off of coffee and gets a daily lecture on caffeine consumption from harvey

- is harvey’s wingman (neither of them have any rizz…)

- goes to the bar just to quiz emily on astrology

- sets up ferris beuller type traps when she wants to sneak out and not deal with demetrius

-used to sneak into sebastian’s room during thunderstorms and still does sometimes

laura harrier my love my light… just picture her with glasses

abigail

- straight but likes to makeout with girls when she’s drunk

- goes to college online (majoring in business for pierre but double minoring in classics and anthropology) - her parents wouldn’t let her go in person because she’s too “reckless”

- brought home a squirrel once and hid it in her room for weeks

-used to do competitive irish dance as a kid (seems like something caroline would make her do)

- has a huge crush on sam and will flirt with sebastian to make him jealous

- pierced her own ears six times at once and made caroline faint when she saw her

- has a tattoo on her thigh that’s she’s desperately hiding from her parents

-helped emily dye her hair for the first time

- hooked up with alex once but will never admit it

can’t explain it she just gives kiernan - with purple hair ofc

#stardew valley #sdv headcanons #sdv #stardew fanfic #i know i’m crazy #i think way too much about this #can you tell i’m a bit of an abigail hater…#maru and penny r in love change my mind U CAN’T

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petruchio · 1 year

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me when im out all day and all i want to do is go home so i can talk to the tumblr mutuals

#I LOVE U GUYS THO #u get me ya know #caroline speaks

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betweenthetimeandsound · 1 year

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She envisioned violent forces of fire and ice battling against each other, hurricane-like storms thrown down on her like pelting dodge balls, war, bloodshed, celestial disaster, and her best friend, Jessica, in danger from an ambiguous force. All of a sudden, Caroline dropped the pencil with as sudden thud, a spark rising out of it, and she leapt to her bed from the chair, throwing herself in the lime green sheets.

She clung on to her fluffy, azure pillow for a brief moment before screaming in it. Everything piled on her every second like bricks, cracking her back until she cannot bear it and she fell down onto the ground. She buried her face further and further into the fabric, trying to muffle any heat coming out of her. Throwing her fist onto the blankets, she leapt back up.

Why is this happening to me? She thought as her body temperature rose, her arms glowing like a sunset. But it can’t be magic because magic doesn’t exist! This is silly nonsense I have no time dealing with!

Despite the words she conjured up in her mind, the feeling has already sunk in. Everything she has believed through her youth has crashed down like a building during an earthquake. Today’s unexpected events shattered her foundation, and now she sat at her bed, drooped like a fuse after an explosion, covered in soot.

Why would so much be out of my control? Caroline thought as she stared out at her bedroom wall, decorated with hanging lamps and pop art and photographs. The colors and images returned Caroline back home, back to the fun adventures she assured herself she would have.

What if this…phenomenon, is just another adventure I have to take? Caroline stood up and analyzed the photographs,

I hope this is just another adventure, not like…whatever, I need to do something.

Caroline took a single candle from her drawer, lit it with her new lighter, and let the fire settle down as she crossed her legs, narrowed her focus to the sole flame glowing in front of her, and blinked for a few moments before closing her eyes entirely.

***

A pang of light appeared in midair within the corner of her eye. Once again, flames engulfed her hectic mind, yet this time, it wasn’t a wildfire, as she expected it to be. Instead, her mind tamed with its supple yet perilous flames; everything washed away like a wave along the Pacific Ocean. Her true self grasped dominance now, as if the world was once again peaceful before every traumatic event struck.

Caroline fell into a dreamlike state, and swam in a sea of ecstasy—floating in some idealized universe. She felt herself splashing in relief; every ember flicked at her soothed her and caressed her. The warmth didn’t make her want to run away; it pulled her even closer to the flames which grew with every breath. Eventually, her thoughts clarified to the point where she trembled for a moment.

She grazed around in her mind, realizing she was all alone. Nobody from her life was there; goose bumps arose on her skin, despite the heat of the flames around her.

Anybody out there, please help me. Help me to face the challenges of reality—even if it’s in a fictional world. Let the chains of prejudice and confusion dissolve into the flames and create a pool of logic and wisdom. I really want to do something, but I’m not sure what.

Forgive me if I am futile and sinful, and plain idiotic—I beg for your mercy to help me and save me. Care for me in the greatest hazard—don’t let me fall short.

I know I’m silly at times and I may be cynical, but I want a chance to make things right, please?

I want to believe in magic, but everyone in my world thinks that magic is dangerous. I want to believe in some supernatural being, but there are people in this world that might hate me for doing so. And what if I was wrong? I can’t forgive myself I want to be free from the pain, the agony of everyone’s wrath on me.

Yet I care for Jessica. Jessica is my best friend, and I can’t let anything happen to her. If she needs help to do something, then I should be there for her. But what's in it for me?

The flames crackled, as if a force crawled, slithered, and bounced towards her. Caroline crossed both her arms around her chest, letting her hands touch her shoulders. Her hair flew out in many directions, energy flowing through her body with great intensity. She seemed to float into the midst of a cinnamon fragrance, like if the candles melted away around her ring of fire, serene yet fierce as she tapped her fingers against her shoulders.

Her doubts sublimated into the air, yet a flare came down at her, combusting serenity.

Author's Note: Another excerpt from Out There, only this time, it's when Caroline starts accepting the fact she might have magical powers. A lot of act 1 features Caroline trying to make sense of her powers, and trying to connect the dots in Jessica's connections tp the realms and how she could help. I feel like she makes a breakthrough here--what about you?

For the tenth day of @writeblrfantasy "12 Days of Writer Self-love"

#wip #my writing #writers on tumblr #out there #rival realms #caroline panalay #pyrokinesis #fire #magic #lila's 12 days of writers self love #12 days of writers self love #magical girl #portal fantasy #ya fantasy #young adult fantasy #introspection #young adult #writeblrfantasy

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louisisalarrie · 3 months

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Due to the large amount of debating on Twitter around stunts and forcible closeting and who gains what from the partnership, let’s talk about stunts as someone who works in the industry and has a degree in this shit, baby!!!

Okie dokie. Stunts are just about our least favourite thing in this fandom, and we watch the boys get exploited, used, and see that they are thoroughly and visibly upset during pap shots and any public event with said stunt. I will be touching on bbg here, as a warning. But this will look particularly at Harry’s stunts, a bit more than Louis’, because people seem to all be fighting about Harry and TR at the moment, and there have been a lot of nasty things said between solos and larries and yeah… let’s have a chat about this all, so you folks can have a little more context of behind the scenes, and also a more thorough understanding than just “that stunt gf is using him for his fame and is part of the problem by forcibly closeting that artist”. Sooooo yeah, let’s get into it. I’ll break this down by Harry/Louis, and we can have a good look into this together. Feel free to hit me up in my inbox for any questions/comments etc., my loves. A lot of this stuff you might already be aware of, but yeah. Just thought I’d do something a bit more in depth while all this discourse is happening.

Harry - a brief history of stunts/his image, and why TR is his beard right now

So, we are all certainly aware of Harry’s past, with everyone from Caroline Flack, to Taylor Swift, to Kendall Jenner… the list goes on and on. His image was doctored to fit the ideal womaniser - sweet and funny, but flirty and cocky. If he was marketed as a dick, no one would idealise him, obviously. So he was allowed to be himself, as the sweet boy we all know, with the exception of flirting with every woman that breathes, and bedding them immediately, before moving on. He was still desirable like this. He was still seen as somewhat attainable, because he was never tied down. He didn’t do long term, he did one night stands and would keep women around long enough until the next pretty little (famous) thing came along. They wanted him to be seen as a sexual being, as so many young male boy bands are full of “goody two shoes” and are little happy cherubs who sing about what makes you beautiful, not waking up with a hard on.

So, his image flowed with the times. They seeded that baby as a womaniser, so when the band got older, he could be seen with multiple stunts, and be even more attainable than someone with a long term partner (Louis) because he didn’t fall in love. He was sex, and rock n roll, while playing innocent as well. It was a different twist to your usual “bad boy” narrative… the young girls saw him as a beautiful sweet angel, and the older girls thought they had a chance to have sex with him (multiple “receipts” that said Harry asked for numbers from fans and took them backstage after shows also posted on Tumblr/Twitter which the older fans had accounts on). They covered the very wide demographic that one direction had with this image, while keeping him closeted. S*mon always thought he was gonna be the main boy, so why not do whatever they can to give him even more PR? Two birds one stone, right?

Anyway, stunting is, and always has been, a crucial part of PR. The general public, and fans, are always interested to know the love life of celebrities. It causes drama, and gossip, and pays for the families of Paps, journalists, interviewers, etc. ya know? These folks would have a pretty boring job if they couldn’t spread gossip. They get paid more to do so, so it’s just the circle of life in the music industry. Almost all the jobs around an artist are there because of stunts. There’s only so many times a reporter can comment on what Harry is wearing if he’s not seen with someone else.

Anyway, this day and age, stunts have become pretty see through. We can spot one a mile away, anticipate articles, and guess what’s coming next. It’s embarrassing really. But, in the earlier days of stunts, it used to be a mutually beneficial agreement. Celebrity A “dates” and is spotted with Celebrity B, who both have large fandoms and make a lot of money (HS and TS). So, being seen together makes sense. A power couple, if you will. Two of the biggest stars on the planet, joining forces, exposing their already established fandoms to the other person’s music, and both of them gaining more followers, more money, and more clicks in the media. It’s the same with the OW shit show that happened… however, that was marketed as a 2 year long stunt, his longest yet, and was obviously to promo the movie. But, being his longest public relationship as of yet, they kinda dragged him away from the womaniser image a bit. Makes sense, right? He’s getting older, settling down a bit… he’s becoming a professional, not fucking the fans of his boyband backstage, and sleeping with every hot celebrity he sees.

However, because of a lot of these stunts are now being exposed and superficial af, they have tried a different kind of stunt, that, while we’ve seen before in different “womanising” artists, they do this to boost a positive image of the artist in question, and move them away from their… multiple sexual escapades. This is what I like to call the “Girl Next Door” stunt, which is exactly where Harry is at now, and where Louis has been all throughout his stunts.

The Girl Next Door stunt shows the public “oh wow, he’s not superficial!!! He’ll date someone who isn’t super famous and he loves them for them!!! He isn’t using her!! He’s attainable and would date someone like me because I’m not super famous!!!” narrative. Which, for Harry, pulls his image back towards being more “real” and authentic, and, for the fans, causes them to defend him because of this. They don’t see it as an obvious stunt because why the hell would this be mutually beneficial for Harry? Why would he bother to continue agreeing to closet himself with someone who isn’t gonna give him any PR from their own fandom? Who the paps are gonna wonder who she is? Well… it’s because he’s a sweetie pie baby boy cherub angel who doesn’t care about fame and fortune, just treats people with kindness and has fallen in love with someone who wasn’t really in the public eye to begin with. Wow. What an incredible guy.

And while you may say “hang on, TR wasn’t totally unknown, she had a following”, her following was nothing compared to Harry’s before they got together. So, with the above in mind about how this positively boosts Harry’s image, you can see why this is mutually beneficial. It’s not always about the money for both sides.

But… hang on… “why would TR agree to this? She’s actively participating in the closeting of Harry? She’s not a good person!!!!!” Well… if it wasn’t her, it’d be someone else. If every celeb/person boycotted the idea of stunts and refused them due to the fact they didn’t want to closet artists, that would be great. It would be a massive shift in the industry. It would be fantastic. But… that’s just not the way it is right now. And unfortunately I don’t think it ever will be.

Closeting has existed for years in the celeb world, and it’s not just gonna go away like that. Sometimes the artists get to choose who they stunt with, and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes bisexuality is seeded juuuuuust enough to get people talking even more. But in his case right now, that’s why people are relating to TR. that’s why they’re defending her, and that’s why they’re a good stunt for now, because she’s the girl next door. See that image shift, now?

Louis - bbg, long term gfs, and the Girl Next Door

Now that I’ve explained the idea of the Girl Next Door stunt (which I’m sure a lot of you have picked up on already prior to this post), that’s exactly what Louis’ closeting and stunting has been for the past 13 years. Eleanor was an unknown, young pretty girl aspiring to be a model. They had one womaniser in the band, two would just be sleazy, so why not make him somewhat “unattainable” but still show his love and commitment and as he was the oldest of the band, he took relationships seriously? It makes him look grown up, so people can take the band more seriously. They’re not just 5 boys who are fucking everything that moved due to newfound fame. It would keep Louis closeted, keep Harry closeted but in the public eye at all times, and totally remove any possibility of them being in a relationship behind closed doors. Sounds great on paper, right? So… if Louis was the sweet, funny, long term gf boy… then why did he go out and get drunk and fuck some unknown hairdresser in a one night stand and have a baby with her, and it be so public? Let’s have a quick look…

For obvious closeting reasons, someone who is speculated to be gay having a baby is quite a clear cut. They’ve had vaginal penetrative sex, they can’t be gay… right? Bisexuality is often overlooked in the media, but, that’s a story for another time.

So, bbg makes sense. They were seeding Harry’s bisexuality/coming out over mid 2014-2015 buttttt little problem… if Harry was in fact into men, then why couldn’t he be into Louis? Larry Stylinson is no stranger to the press, and to pay off every outlet to include in their article the previous denials of Larry’s relationship in the coming out articles, was more effort than what it’s worth. So, even giving him a male stunt, larry would still be prominent in all press relating to Harry’s sexuality. So, in the plans of Harry’s (not successful) coming out, what do they do with Louis?

Long term gf man Louis became quite the party boy, and slept around with Girl Next Door types. People who weren’t famous. People who weren’t gonna help his career after one direction, nor boost his popularity and exposure. He was almost attainable to fans, as so many fans have met him at clubs before. But Harry needed to be THE one who ended up on top (no pun intended), and THE extra attainable now openly bisexual man. They just had to stop Louis from being a desirable match to pretty princess harry, and kinda pushed him to take over Harry’s womaniser image. So, what better way than to push him into being a grotty undesirable party boy who was getting fucked up and sleeping with random girls? What better way than to make him be extra closeted with a kid whose mum he’d had a one night stand with? It could’ve been any fan… right? Quite the Y/N wattpad story if you ask me…

(Anywho, this isn’t a bbg post so I won’t go into S*mon vs Louis, the big gay war, Belfast etc., I’m just talking plainly about the images to the public eye).

So, bbg sticks and is set for the long term, and so Louis still has the committed image he always did. He’s always been tied down, except… he can’t go from party boy to doting dad in one breath. So a couple of VERY short lived stunts here (including one he did by himself in protest) and there, keeps him attainable. He cares SO much about his little lad, BUT is on the look out for some lady bits at all times. Funnily enough, with women who aren’t going to actively improve his career/popularity. So… Girl Next Door attainability, long term commitment grown up responsibility, and now, stunt free (apart from bbg) for over a year. Party boy louis lives on, though. And that is certainly an interesting deep dive as to why, but again, for another time.

Overall - why the fuck is this all happening?

So, they’ve pushed Harry and Louis as far apart from each other as possible, since 2015. Their images, everything. We know this, we’ve watched it, some of us have been here for it. But why is Harry now Girl Next Door stunting? It’ll be a year of them together in a few months. It’s arguably his first stunt gf who is not popular or influential in any way. Well… his image now is happy go lucky boy who loves everyone and is sweet as pie and while he still has suggestive lyrics and moves on stage, he’s actively been pushed away further from the womaniser image through OW and TR. I believe, since he has shot to fame, they’ve decided to kick him back down and seem more attainable, with a more “realistic and authentic” stunt. It makes him look like a real person again. Obviously, it’s forced closeting and you can plainly see it makes him upset and he’s doing everything he can to move away from it, but… that’s his image for now. They’re moving away from womanising because he’s older and needs to still look attainable and professional and “grown up” (30 yrs old isn’t grown up by any means, but it’s the ageism in the industry and generally around the world that pushes this), and so this is the purpose of TR. now, you can sit here and yell about her being an active part in his closeting, which she is, but if it wasn’t her, it would be someone else. Solo Harries who believe in them being together, would be stanning another chick if she was in TR’s place. It’s a Copy of a Copy of a Copy. Get mad at the teams behind Harry and Louis, not at the girls participating in it. (BBG is somewhat of an exception bc who tf would actively put a baby through that but whatever, the promise of money can sway people like crazy).

In short, Long-Term Tomlinson and Harry Sly-les are still in full force, but in an adjusted way to seem more authentic. Because in this day and age, where everything is fake, authenticity sells.

#I could go into further detail on each of these stunts but this is a digestible overview xx #louisisalarrie chats #bbg #stunts

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