#the band's visit bootleg

[boyfromdistrict3]

Y’all I am begging, does anyone have a link to The Bands Visit boot? I know there’s one on YouTube but I need to download it and all the boot posts are years old. I don’t have much to trade but I have a few boots!

[absurdthirst]

Dominate Love {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.3k

Warnings: Sex club, sex work, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, spanking, slapping, tit play, anal plugs, anal fingering, anal sex, oral sex (male receiving) vaginal sex, bombings, dry humping, angst, violence, beating a man to death, feelings

Comments: When the club Joel frequents to exert some semblance of control over his QZ life is bombed, he's there with you. His favorite toy. Dragging you to safety, he brings you along as he leaves Boston and allows himself to admit the truth to himself. He's in love with you.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The bass thumps, reminding Joel of a time that only lives in his memory now. The music doesn’t come from speakers like it would’ve during his nights out to clubs during the 80s. No lights flashing or disco balls spinning. No, the music is from a live band. A sorry reminder of a time gone by, a way to escape the harsh reality outside as the band plays songs from before the world went to shit. It’s not what Joel is here for. He makes his way through the crowd, an eclectic mixture of occupants of the Boston QZ, towards the door that leads to an area very few know about. Bootleg moonshine and whiskey make the floor sticky, booze he’s played a part in smuggling into the QZ, and he grimaces as his boots grow tacky. He cleaned them earlier alongside the hidden weapons he keeps under his floorboards. He approaches the stairway, glancing behind him before he makes his way down the stairs, sighing in appreciation of the reprieve to his eardrums. When he opens the door, he is greeted by a large security guard holding a rifle and a woman sitting at a desk; her dress is tight but conservative, well, conservative for the place she works. “Welcome back, sir.” She greets him, and he nods, a man of few words, when he enters this place.

“She’s ready for you.” The woman informs him, the security guard shifting from one foot to the other while he eyes Joel. He doesn’t back down, staring at the guard until the woman stands and gestures for him to follow. Joel follows her, his eyes dipping down to her ass as she walks, but he isn’t interested in fucking her. No, he has other plans. “Enjoy.” The woman says when she stands outside the assigned room, a smirk on her face as she hands Joel a foil packet. Condoms, as it turns out, were as necessary as bullets in this new world. The last thing people need during an apocalyptic world is a surprise pregnancy. Too busy trying to survive, yet not too busy to get lost in the sensations of sex. He shoves the packet into his pocket, turning to see the woman making her way back down the hall, then he turns towards the door. With an exhale, he opens it to find what he came here for: you.

You are kneeling on the bed, naked, and your head tilted down to avoid his eyes as he enters the dimly lit room. He shuts the door behind him, making sure it is loud enough to make you jolt, and he runs his fingers along the things he requested be waiting for him. The paddle, the whip, the clamps, and the handcuffs. All part of his arsenal. He is pleased that you have them waiting for him, lube sitting on the side, and he smirks, knowing you followed his orders from his last visit. “You listened to me. Good girl.” He finally speaks after several moments, and you remain silent, drawing a pleased hum from his lips. Joel pulls his shirt over his head, wearing a t-shirt today, and drops it to the floor, leaving him in his jeans and boots. He walks over to the bed, admiring your tits and how your hands are clasped together in front of you, resting in your lap. You are a pretty picture, and he desperately wants to burn this image into his brain to use later when he is not in this room with you. “Tell me your safe word, darlin’ girl.” He orders, reaching out to grip your chin, bringing your gaze to his. Christ, you have such pretty eyes. You don’t respond and he grunts, gripping your chin a little tighter. “You can speak.” He tuts and you blink a couple of times before responding with, “my safe word is raspberry, sir.” Joel hums, pleased with your answer, and his hand lowers to grip your neck. Your neck is so delicate; he could easily snap it. Violence has entrapped his entire being, forcing him to do things he never imagined he could bring himself to do. He has survived for this long, hardened by this harsh reality, but here, in this room, he allows himself to release the monster inside of him. Discipline rules the real monster; if he allows it small moments of release, he can control it better. He squeezes your neck tighter, and a small moan bubbles up from your lips. Joel chuckles, “such a dirty girl, ain’t ya? You get yourself ready for me?” He asks, eager to get this show on the road, he has a shipment coming in tonight from Bill, and he has to be there. “Yes, sir, I prepped myself when I got your message that you were coming.” You answer, and Joel smirks, pleased to hear you got his message through the grapevine that has curled itself around the QZ now that his Nokia is a relic. “Get on your knees and show me.” He orders, and he lets go of your throat. You obey, quickly shifting on the bed to turn around and kneeling on your hands and knees, arching your back to display your ass to his hungry eyes. Joel bites his lip, dark eyes admiring your ass, and he grabs your ass cheeks, squeezing them and spreading them to reveal the plug you nestled into your puckered hole before he arrived. The metal winks under the dim lighting, and his cock stirs to life in his jeans. “Fuck, ain’t that a pretty sight?” He murmurs to himself.

One hand lets go of your cheek, and he pushes against the plug, enjoying how you whimper in response, back arching a little more. “Oh, you like that?” He asks, and you bite your lip, forcing yourself to remain quiet until he permits you. “Answer me.” He growls, wasting no time bringing his hand down to smack your ass cheek, hard and quick. Enough to make you gasp and blurt out your answer, “yes, sir. I- I love it.” He enjoys your answer, knowing he hasn’t even started. He grips the plug, twists it, and smirks when you moan softly. “You want me to fuck this little hole?” He questions, and you nod, “yes, sir. Fuck, I want that.” Joel smacks your other ass cheek, “you’re a dirty little whore, ain’t ya? Too bad I’m not ready yet. Want to get your little cunt dripping before I decide which hole I want. Maybe your mouth.” He raises his hand to push two fingers into your mouth, and you eagerly suck on the digits. Tasting his salty sweat and the lingering bitterness of gun residue that seems to be embedded into his skin. He withdraws his fingers, bringing his hand down to cup your dripping cunt, “or should I fuck your tight little pussy?” He hums, and you whimper when his fingers brush your clit. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Or does my little slut want me to fuck her ass?” He murmurs, circling the puckered hole, barely nudging the plug, but it’s enough to make you whine softly. “I think I want all three.” He decides, making you nod eagerly. “Yes, sir, fuck me however you want. Wherever you want.” You tell him breathlessly, and he chuckles, “so fucking desperate.”

You are a little desperate. Despite the demeaning, harsh way Joel Miller can fuck, he’s not abusive. He doesn’t beat you while he fucks you. He doesn’t fuck you without prepping your holes for his thick cock. You are treated better than some in the club because you’re Joel’s favorite and the owner is scared of him, even more - the other members are scared of him. There’s even a rumor he beat a man to death in the club for abusing the girl he fucked before you showed up, buy he never talks about that with you. Instead of replying, you moan softly when his thick fingers slip down to your clit. 

He groans when he feels how wet you are. This is his escape. The time he allows himself to access that deeper part of him he keeps controlled until the occasion calls for him to be in control. He has to behave in the QZ, not wanting to get kicked out, but that time is coming to an end. Him and Tess are working on getting enough credits together to leave the QZ so he can find Tommy. “Dripping for me. My little whore.” He coos, pushing two thick digits inside of you.

Your back arches and your moan again, the stretch of his finger a burn that you enjoy a lot more than you probably should. There’s something about Joel that you can’t resist, the gruff roughness is tempered by a sadness in his eyes that you want to soothe with kisses. Although you know that those same eyes go flat, hard and it excites you when you see the change. “Your whore.” You echo. “Sir.”

“That’s right.” His twang comes in, and your whimper makes his cock twitch, already hard from just the thought of you as he entered the club. “Such a good little slut, taking all that I give you. You want more thought don’t you? You’re a greedy girl. You want me to add another finger?” He asks as he does that, stretching you out for his cock.

“Yes sir, fuck.” You gasp out, eyes closing as your hole is stuffed full for the moment. You know that he will fill you even more. The thick cock that you had struggled to take when he first came to you is girthy and long, a combination that leaves you trying to walk on shaky legs when he’s done. “Want everything you want to give me.”

Joel groans, loving the way you completely submit to him. This is the only time he’s completely in control. He can control every aspect of this part of his life. He works his fingers deeper inside of you with a groan, “always so wet for me. What gets you wet like this sweetheart? Thinkin’ of Daddy’s cock?” He coos, slapping your ass with his free hand.

You shiver, not really caring for the Daddy term, but he obviously likes it. Fulfilling some fantasy of his as you whine at the sting of his hand. “Yes, sir.” You gasp out. “Always want Daddy’s cock.” You admit shamelessly. In here, you are exactly what Joel wants and needs and he rewards you so beautifully for it.

He likes that you indulge him every time he comes into this room. You have a safe word but you’ve never used it. He groans as your walls pulse around his fingers and he withdraws his digits, admiring the way your hole flutters at the sudden absence. “That’s it, baby. You’re gonna take what I give you and you’re gonna love it.” He promises, working on his belt to pull his cock out. “Want you to take my cock down your throat like only you do.” He groans, squeezing his cock as he pulls it out.

The good thing about Joel is that he regularly showers. He groans as he shuffles forward, your mouth obediently opening and your tongue out to wait for his cock. His hand pumps himself and then he guides the head to smear around your lips, teasing you with the length before he pushes into your mouth with a sharp snap of his hips, gagging you.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t choke. You gotta take it all. Be a good girl.” He demands, wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck to keep you still so he can rock his cock deep down your throat. You’re sputtering around him and he loves the way your split dribbles onto the sheets. “Being such a good little slut for daddy.” He coos, closing his eyes as he loses himself in this, in you.

His thrusts are harsh and you know you will have to drink some of the tea that is made from the dandelions and tree bark to soothe it. Your jaw will ache when he’s done and you will be so cock drunk you’ll beg for more. Moaning around him, your cunt clenches and you can feel yourself starting to drip.

“Shit. Always so fucking good. Taking it all like a goddamn champ. I don’t wanna cum down your throat tonight, my little cockslut.” He grabs the back of your neck to drag you off of his cock. “Wanna fuck your pussy. Then I’m gonna cum inside of your ass after I stretch it out with my fingers first.” He explains, slapping your cheek.

You love how he is going to wreck you. He’s so greedy when he comes to you, taking everything he can from you and still wanting more. “Yes sir.” You gasp, trying to catch your breath. “However you want to cum.” If he cums in your ass, you won’t make him wear the condom. He can fill you up.

Joel manhandles you to turn you around so he can grab your hips, kneeling on the bed to position himself behind you. He grips his cock and positions himself at your entrance, swiftly pushing inside of you with a low groan that echoes in the room.

“Shit, Joel.” You moan, loving how your entire body jolts forward from the force of his thrust. Your fingers dig into the sheets underneath you, grounding you in the moment.

He keeps your hips tilted up as you fall forward, trying to grind his cock impossibly deeper inside of you. It’s incredible how tight you are around him and it makes him clench his jaw so he doesn’t blow his load too damn too. “Fuck baby. Feel so fucking - like a goddamn vice. How you keep this pussy so tight when I’m fucking you more often?”

You choke out a moan. “Cumming.” You gasp, even though the truth is that you are tight because he’s so fucking thick. “You make me cum all the time.”

He chuckles, “wanna make sure you keep letting me use those tight little holes.” He says, smacking your ass with his palm. “Love being inside this pussy. Makes me forget about all - shit - all about how fucked the world is now.” He admits, pushing his hips against your ass and you cry out, making him smirk. “Take it all. Whatever I give you. Want you to take every fucking inch of this big dick. Tell me it’s big.”

“Fuck, it’s so big, sir.” Your eyes roll back when that big dick hits deep, just to show you what he can do. “Best cock I’ve ever had in my tight little pussy.” You confess. “Best cock ever.”

Your confession has him twitching inside of you, and he groans your name when he thrusts a little harder, making you gasp and fall forward until your cheek rests on the sheets. “That’s right. Best cock ever. Wanna - fuck - wanna live in this cunt. Never leave. Fill you up over and over again and watch it drip out. You’re - fuck- you’re so fucking tight.” He hisses, sliding his hand down to cup your breast and he slaps it.

You squeal, wanting to promise him the moon. Wanting to promise that he can have whatever he wants if he just fucks you. You know that Joel is different here than outside this room. Out there he wouldn’t even acknowledge you, probably. You’ve never had the guts to approach him when you’ve seen him walk through the streets of the zone. “Fuck, you can.” You promise him. “I’ll stay bent over so you can just fuck me whenever you want.”

“That’s right. You’re my little whore. Gonna keep you full of my cum. Just fuck you whenever I want. Make you scream my name so often, you lose your fuckin’ voice. Gonna make you mine. Claim this cunt as my own.” He growls, sliding his hand up to twist the plug you have nestled in your ass.

The low moan is wanton, needy. Loving the idea and wishing that could happen. You’re already his little whore, but you would be willing to let him fuck you hoarse. He sometimes does this anyway. “Fuck, I wish you would.”

“Gonna do it.” He promises in the moment, pushing deep to press against your cervix and he works the plug out of you. “I know you do. You want this dick all the fuckin’ time. Like the slut you are.” He spits on his fingers, pushing one then two into your ass, working your tight hole open for his cock. “Gonna make sure you only feel pleasure…unless you want some pain.”

“Spank me.” You gasp out. Knowing that Joel likes to spank you. Likes to feel the welts on your skin and know it’s from pleasure and not brutal pain. You’ve seen the busted knuckles, the broken hands. Those days are the ones he refuses to be rough. Almost scared of losing control but you know he never would hurt you. Not like that. He likes your screams to be hoarse with pleasure. “Please spank me, daddy.”

He can’t fucking deny you when you beg like that. He hisses, bringing his other hand down on your ass with a dark chuckle, his other hand scissoring his fingers inside of your ass to work you open. “Want you to cum like this.” He demands, “want you to cum for daddy like a good girl.”

It’s not hard to do when his cock pushes deep and punches against those spots that make your toes curl. Combined with the sweet sting of his hand and his fingers working your other hole opened, you are moaning as you work yourself closer. “I will, fuck, I will cum for you.” You promise, whining when he pushes a third finger in your ass. “Oh god, Joel.”

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Don’t you fucking disappoint, Daddy. You’d better cum right this fucking second.” He demands and your cry of pleasure echoes off of the walls as you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, such a good little whore for me. You’ll do whatever I say, won’t you?” He growls, pulling out of your quivering cunt.

“Yes.” You gasp out, hating the loss of his cock and you whimper when he pulls his fingers out of your hole. “Whatever you want. Anything you want. Your whore. Use me, daddy. Please use me.” You babble, desperate to feel him inside you again.

He spreads your cheeks, leaning in to spit on your puckered hole then he spits in his palm and grips his cock, mixing his saliva with your cum as he notches himself at your ass to push inside of you. “Take it all.” He demands as he pushes into you.

Your back bows under the pressure from the pinch of pain. The lack of lube is a common issue but his spit helps. Thank god he had fingered you. “Joel!” You cry out, dropping down to your elbows and pushing back. Despite the pain, maybe because of it, you want more. You want to see him completely unhinged as you watch his reflection in the mirror.

He growls as you take all of him like the good slut you are. He clenches his jaw and smacks your ass, “you’re a good little whore. So cock hungry, aren’t you?” He mocks you, leaning in to kiss along your shoulder. He’s not allowed to bite you considering the situation outside the QZ.

"Yessss." You whine softly, gasping when his teeth scrape your skin. You would love for him to bite you, loved the idea of him marking you for a few days until the impression of his teeth faded, but he can't. "Hungry for your cock, only your cock, daddy." You feel him twitch inside you and moan at how it makes your walls of your cunt clench. "Your whore to use."

He growls, "yes. Yes. My whore. My little tight cunt." He hisses when you clench around him and he rocks into you, eyes rolling into the back of his head at how tight your muscles are gripping him.

You hiss when his hips start to snap forward a little harder, his cock drilling into you more aggressively. Every thrust a harsh punch and a low groan from the man behind you. Rocking you forward and you have to push back so he doesn’t push you into the creaking headboard. “T-tight little ass.” You moan out, wishing you could rub your clit. “Finger me.” You beg, “please, fuck I need something inside me.” 

Joel hisses, “such a greedy little whore. Want Daddy’s fingers?” He asks and you nod your head pathetically, a whine escaping your lips. “Fucking needy.” He snorts and slides his hand down until he’s pushing two thick digits inside of you, feeling his cock push against the thin wall between your two holes. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.” He promises and starts to move his hips again.

You groan quietly, loving how full you feel and if it were anyone else other than Joel, you would suggest another person. Joel is possessive while he’s inside you, he would never let another man touch what he considers his. You’re his, and he will do what he wants, even his fingers is an indulgence of your needs. “So good, baby, you take such good care of me.”

He groans, leaning forward to kiss along your neck, “only I can take care of you like this. Only me.” He says despite knowing you have other customers but he likes to imagine you sit and wait for him to show up and treat you like his precious little whore. “Tell me that only I take such good care of you.” He demands, scraping his teeth along your neck, pushing his limit.

You whimper, clenching down around his fingers and cock. “Only you, daddy.” You whine breathlessly. “Only you can take care of me like I need. Like I want. I’m your whore.” You promise, shivering at the scrape of his teeth and wanting more. “Joel…”

He won’t risk you by biting you, not knowing what shit he’s exposed to outside that he could bring back, even if it isn’t the fungus. He curls his fingers and rocks a little faster, “need you to cum for me, baby doll. Need you to soak my fingers then I’ll fill that tight little ass with my cum. Deal?” He asks, panting as his cock twitches inside of you.

“Deal, baby, fuck.” You pant out. Feeling his thrusts start to speed up, pounding himself in and out of your ass as his fingers curl into your cunt. “Joel, fuck baby, harder.” He loves when you want more, but you really do want him to go wild tonight.

How can he deny you when you beg him so sweetly? Everything goes blank in his mind except you. The outbreak. Survival. The things he’s done to stay alive. Even Sarah and her death seem to fade into the background as he pounds into your body, losing himself in the control and the pleasure. “Cum for me.” He grunts, barely hanging on as he twists his wrist to press his thumb to your clit.

Your nerves are alight with pleasure, the pressure built up inside you and curling in your stomach. The added sensation of your clit throws you over the edge and you start to come apart with a loud scream. Unable to contain it as your entire body responds to Joel’s manipulation.

He shudders behind you as you clamp down on his cock and he loves how you soak his fingers. “That’s it baby. That’s - that’s fucking it.” He growls and withdraws his fingers, slick digits gripping your hip as he grunts, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, lifting up onto his aching knees a little higher. “Shit. I’m gonna - gonna fill you up. Beg for it. Beg me for my cum.” He demands breathlessly.

Your eyes cross every time he fucks back into you. Practically lifting you up as he works himself impossibly deep. He’s not wearing a condom so when he cums, you will be dripping his seed. “Fill me up.” You gasp out desperately. “Please, I need- I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it.”

Joel groans, rocking into you again and again until finally, he stills. His hips digging into your ass, his belly that has developed in middle age rests against your skin as he pushes his cock deep. Twitching inside of you, he fills you with rope after rope of sticky cum, a low groan of your name escaping his lips as his fingers dig into your flesh.

This is the only way that Joel will cum inside you. This or your mouth and you love the hot feeling of his seed. Technically you should insist that he use it every time, but you know he’s clean and besides you, Tess is the only person he sleeps with. All your others always use condoms, but you have let Joel cum in your ass since the very beginning.

“Fuck baby.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss along your spine. He nudges your skin and groans as he slowly pulls out of you to watch his cum well up and drip out of your puckered hole. “That’s it, baby. Shit.” He says as he pushes his finger into you to push it back in, knowing you’ll have to deal with it later but he loves seeing it. Reminds him of younger days when he wasn’t worried about the lack of birth control and the death sentence that is pregnancy.

You close your eyes and smile, panting against the cool sheets. You are worn out and feeling the familiar ache that comes with having Joel in your room. “Was it good, daddy?” You coo softly, wanting to make sure that he doesn’t have something else in mind for you. After sessions with him, all you want to do is sleep.

He gently smacks your ass, “fucking perfect as always, sweetheart. Always take me so well. It’s why I always come back to you. Never judgin’ me for what I want.” He admits, shuffling off of the bed to tuck his cock away and grab the credits from his pocket to give you a little extra. He pays at the desk on the way out but he always likes to give you some extra to make sure you have enough.

“Why would I judge you since I want it too?” You ask, straightening up and reaching for the thin dressing gown that didn’t conceal much. You don’t protest the credits, knowing he will insist just like he does every time, but you smile. “When are you planning on leaving?” You ask softly. “I know it’s getting close.”

Joel sighs, rubbing his cheek, “we are close. I- I just need a few more credits and we gotta get the battery which is proving to be a fucking pain. We will get it soon. Then we will be leaving.” He says with a heavy sigh, knowing it won’t be easy to head out there to find Tommy.

You frown, knowing the extra credits Joel gives you are taking away from his goal. Moving over to the decorative box on your dresser. You open it up and remove the false bottom, revealing the stack of credits that you’ve amassed. Pulling out the notes, you turn back to Joel and hold them out. “Take these.” You insist, shoving them into his hand. “I know it’s driving you crazy to not know.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, trying to shove the notes back towards you. “I can’t take your money, baby. You’ve earned it. With every inch of your body. I can’t - I will figure shit out. I will. Keep it.” He urges, needing you to be cared for even if he isn’t the man who will ensure your safety and wellbeing.

“No, your brother is out there.” Even though Joel is normally focused on pleasure when he’s with you, things have slipped out over time. Worries spilling out and you know that he is going to continue to worry about him until he knows what’s become of Tommy Miller. “Don’t argue, you need to go find him.” You shake your head and send him a small smile. “I just- be careful, will you?” You ask. “And maybe come see me when you get back?” You know that when he leaves the Boston QZ, the chances are that you will never see him again, so it’s a hopeless request.

Joel nods, stepping closer to you, and he cups your cheek. You’ve been his solace in a world that would’ve crumbled him in its palm after Tommy left. He leans in softly to kiss you. A rare event but he likes to give you a little glimpse of who he used to be. To prove that he’s still there, inside him. Just as his lips touch yours, there’s an explosion and Joel is pulling his mouth away, yelling at you to get down just as he throws you down and covers your body with his.

The world around you explodes. Screaming out as Joel throws you to the ground, smoke, dust and debris rains down over the two of you as your ears start to ring. A bomb, you’ve seen enough of them to logically know that’s what’s happened but you can’t think, can’t move. Feeling like the world has slowed down to a crawl and the ringing inside your head deafens you.

Joel winces, his ears ringing, and he lifts his head to look around, body tense with adrenaline as his instincts kick into action. He checks for any nearby danger and helps you to your feet, lifting you up onto his shoulder when you don’t respond to him, appearing to be in a daze. Joel’s hearing clears a little and you blink as he carries you out of your room. Joel hears shouting and his heart is pounding as the smoke makes it hard to see and he tries to keep you safe while also preparing to fight. Fucking Fireflies is his guess.

You’re being carried. You slowly start to realize that as you come to. All of a sudden your hearing comes back and it no longer sounds like you’re underwater. Alarms blaring and there’s the sound of gunfire that makes you jump. “Joel!” You scream, trying to look over his head to see where he is taking you.

Joel doesn’t respond. Just carries you up the emergency exit stairs that the staff and those who are in the know use when they come and go. The street is chaos, FEDRA firing back at the Fireflies and Joel sets you down. “We need to move. Can you walk?” He asks, wishing he had his jacket to drape around you and you are barefoot but he needs to keep his hand free in case he needs to fight.

Pulling your robe closed around you, you nod. Turning back your eyes widen when you see that half the building is gone. Rubble piled up and you can hear the screams from inside. Joel calls your name and you look back at him. “We need to go.” He grabs your hand and drags you behind him, ducking down when some shots are fired too close for comfort with the ensuing battle.

“We need to leave. Now.” He demands and drags you down the street into an alley he knows. The streets are filthy out this way but he doesn’t give a fuck about your feet, he’s more concerned with saving your life. His heart pounds in his chest as he escorts you through the back alleys he knows like the back of his hand until he arrives at his apartment building.

Your body is shivering, a side effect of nearly being killed and your adrenaline is making your heart race. “Joel…” you cling to his hand, feet cut and bleeding and you know you are probably bruised. “Where- where are you taking me?”

Joel doesn't respond as he pulls you along up the stairs until he reaches his place. Grabbing the key, he unlocks the apartment and pushes inside, dragging you in behind him. He locks the door once you're in and turns to you, his dark eyes immediately scanning your face and making his gaze trail along your body in search of injuries. "You hurt?" He asks with a bite.

“I- I don’t think-“ you shake your head and frown as you do an internal check. “Just my feet.” You tell him, looking down at the dirty and bleeding appendages. Joel reaches out and cups your face gently, eyes staring into yours and you know he’s checking to make sure you don’t have a concussion. “What- it was a bomb, right?”

Joel nods, "yeah. Fuckin' Fireflies. Bombin' shit like it's gonna make a goddamn difference." He snorts and shifts to kneel, patting down your legs until he reaches your feet. "Sit." He orders, pulling out the chair behind you. He has a first aid kit - as basic as it is - that Tess uses on him when he gets into fights with assholes who like to try and test him. He stands up and grabs the kit plus the bottle of whiskey he got from Bill when he was last there. He kneels back down in front of you when you're seated and he grabs the bottle of whiskey, "drink this. Will help the shock."

Taking the bottle you pull the cork and take a sniff. “Shit, this is real.” You huff in amazement, taking a swig and nearly moaning over the taste. “Doesn’t burn nearly as bad as that bathtub bullshit.” You hum, enjoying the warmth as it spreads through your body.

He chuckles, opening the kit to grab the alcohol wipes Bill had given him one day when he heard Joel and Tess were using booze to clean their wounds. You hiss at the sting and he winces, “sorry, sweetheart. Gotta clean it up.” He says and carefully dabs the skin.

You watch him carefully, amazed at how gentle he is with you. He’s not a cruel man, but he’s never exactly nurturing. To see him care for you so gently is amazing. “You’re good at this.” You murmur. “Clean up a lot of wounds?”

Joel snorts, “more than you know. My own…Tess’s…Tommy’s, well, I used to - you know.” He clears his throat and grabs the bandages, working on wrapping your feet so they are clean. “You in pain?” He asks, looking up at you for a second.

“Yeah.” You admit with a careless shrug. “My club was bombed. Of course I hurt.” You snort. “Although…..you probably hurt more.”

Joel shakes his head, “I always hurt. Gettin’ too fuckin’ old.” He admits, his eyes flickering up to you and God, you’re so gorgeous even after barely escaping your club being bombed. “Have some more whiskey.” He orders, already thinking about how he can get you to Bill and Frank’s, get you somewhere secure and safe.

You take another drink and close your eyes. Starting to freak out. The club was your home, that room was where you lived. Now everything you own is gone and you have nothing and nowhere to go. You take another gulp of the alcohol and start to tremble slightly. Trying to assure yourself that you will be okay.

“Hey. Hey. Eyes on me.” Joel says, noticing your hands starting to shake. You look at him and he reaches up to cup your cheek, “it’ll be okay. I got somewhere you can go. You trust me?”

“I can’t stay here.” You know that he’s with Tess, or as with her as Joel can be. Everyone in the club wonders why she hasn’t come and kicked your ass, considering she was just as feared as he was. Or maybe she was feared because of him. Either way, they were a thing and you weren’t a part of that. “I have to- I have to go.”

Joel shakes his head, reaching for your hand to stop you from standing up. "You have nowhere to go. You have no clothes. No shoes. FEDRA will find you and lock you up for soliciting or sign you up for the program to get you into their grip. You can't go. Let me - let me take care of you." He pleads, needing to make sure you're okay.

“Tess-“ you gesture around the apartment; the bed that he obviously shares with her. “I can’t stay here. You know that. It’s not right.”

Joel sighs, "Tess and I- it's complicated. She - she never got over losing her kid and her husband and I never got over losing my - look, we know the darkest parts of each other and I - she has seen me at my worst but I don't...her and I - it's convenient." He explains, trying to tell you that he isn't in love with her. He cares for her but he doesn't feel the same way she does. Not sure he ever could, honestly.

You frown slightly, knowing that there is more than just convenience between them. You look around the small space, convinced this is a bad idea, but you don’t really have anywhere to go. All your credits are gone. Joel might have even dropped the ones you had been trying to give him. “I can’t just wear the robe.” You murmur quietly. “Not here. This is her house and it would be disrespectful.” You don’t know if Tess knows, but you feel like she does. Still, you don’t want to flaunt the fact you fuck Joel.

​​Joel shifts to stand up, groaning as his knees ache, his body still hurting from the intensity of the blast, but he moves to put the first aid kit away and find you some clothes. He grabs one of his shirts and some briefs to hand them to you. “I’ll go to my neighbor. She’s around the same size as you. She’ll give me an outfit. Stay here and I’ll be right back.”

​​“Okay.” You nod, taking his clothes but deciding that you won’t put them on. Who knows when Tess will come back? The last thing you want is to have her come in with you wearing Joel’s clothes. Your entire body aches and you have to use the bathroom, Joel’s cum still crusted between your cheeks and leaking out of your body.

“Take a shower if you want. There’s enough water left. Not sure if it’s warm.” Joel says as he exits the door and makes his way down the hall to the young woman who lives with her boyfriend that he’s been working with. She looks to be about your size. They know him enough to know he wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t have to. The boyfriend opens the door, face set with suspicion like Joel knows his own would be. He nods and asks about some clothes and a pair of shoes. “This girl…she ain’t got a thing. Lost it all in the blast that just happened.” Joel explains and the girlfriend comes to the door, telling Joel she will be right back. She places some clothes in his arms, and he thanks her, making his way back to his apartment to let you get dressed.

The water is cold, but it feels good on your aching muscles. You are sore, much more than you would admit to Joel. You normally are after he comes to you and the blast just exacerbated it. Washing quickly so you don’t use too much water and stepping out to find that you look a little shocked and wary. Wrapping a threadbare towel around your body and stepping out into the apartment. “Joel?”

He closes the door behind him just as you step out of the bathroom. "I think these'll fit you." He says, walking over to you to hand you the pile of clothes he had procured from his neighbor's girlfriend. He notices how goddamn pretty you look fresh out of the shower but shoves that thought aside as he tries to figure out what to do next.

“Thank you.” You know that Joel doesn’t have to do anything for you. So for him to be helping you is sweet. “Why the fuck were the fireflies bombing the club?” You demand, dropping the towel to get dressed. It’s not like Joel hasn’t seen every inch of your body. “A lot of them go.”

Joel snorts, leaning against the doorframe and averting his eyes to the floorboards where his shit is hidden beneath. Just because he’s fucked you doesn’t allow him to be able to ogle your body freely when you aren’t together. “A lot of FEDRA officers go to the club. They don’t tell anyone, they blend in, but I notice them. They ain’t there to rat on anyone but they are there to enjoy the pleasures the rest of us indulge in illegally underground.”

“I know.” You snort, wondering if he’s embarrassed by your nudity outside your room. “One of them likes to brag that he gets his hydros from you.” You admit.

Joel snorts, “of course he is. They can never keep their fucking mouths shut.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “Clothes fit?” He asks and you nod, adjusting the shirt. “I’ll give them some free shit when I get something good.” He says more to himself than to you.

You bite your lip and wish you didn’t feel like such a burden. You wonder how many of the others in the club got out, or if they were arrested. “I’ll find somewhere to go as soon as I can.” You tell him quietly. “I won't be long, I promise.”

Joel shakes his head. "You ain't staying in the QZ, baby. I got somewhere you can go. Me and Tess...we are gonna get the battery and then we are leaving here. I can take you to a friend. He and his husband are good friends, they have a secure compound. You'll be safe there." He promises, knowing he can't take you with him.

You want to protest, to tell Joel you don’t want to be pawned off on his friends, but you don’t argue with him. Just shrugging slightly and you wonder why he cares. “If you think that’s best.” You murmur.

Joel nods, “you hungry? I have some jerky and some cookies.” He says, walking into the kitchen to open the cupboard to grab the small amount of snacks he has. “You ain’t a vegetarian, are you?”

You snort. “Hard to be anything here.” You remind him. “Expensive enough to keep your belly full. But no, I’m not a vegetarian. You don’t have to wait on me though.” You don’t want to be a burden on him.

Joel shrugs, feeling that he’s not really taken care of you in the past when it’s come to him fucking you until you can barely move. He’s never considered after care when he’s paying you and you’re there to be his toy and now that he thinks about it, he feels guilty. He wants you to be comfortable.

You realize that he’s not a man of many words and you accept that. “If there’s something you need to do, don’t let me stop you.” You urge him. “Did you drop the credits?” You ask. “I don’t remember a lot after the blast besides you protecting me.” Biting your lip, you smile at him. “Thank you for that, by the way. You saved my life.”

He isn't usually a man to fluster but your praise makes his cheeks flush a little. "Uh, sure. We, uh, I shoved them in my pocket just before we got out of there." He says, pulling the notes out of his tatty jeans. Joel holds them out towards you, "these are yours."

You look at them and shake your head. “No, I gave them to you.” You remind him and when he opens his mouth to protest, you cut him off. “I won’t need them if I’m leaving the QZ.” You remind him. “Get whatever you need for the trip or extra food because you’re taking me.” You urge him.

He wants to argue with you but he doesn't. He takes the papers from you, knowing this will pay for the battery. "Don't worry, baby. I'll make sure you're safe." He promises, "Bill and Frank...well, you'll love Frank. Bill is a grumpy bastard."

“So he’s like you?” You ask teasingly, sending him a small smirk before you tilt your head curiously. “How did you meet them?” You ask, making Joel look a little embarrassed. “Tess was talking to Frank on the radio and we slipped out to see what they were like. If there was something there we could use. We set up trade with them. Smuggling shit.”

You nod and Joel shuffles awkwardly at the silence, reaching for the jerky and cookies along with the bottle of whiskey before he takes a seat on the sofa. “Yeah and if they get anything, Bill will send a signal through the radio.” Joel jerks his chin at the radio by the window. “80s ain’t good.” He says, “but I haven’t heard anything from them for the past week or so.”

“The 80s are bad.” You nod. “Besides making you feel old?” You tease and walk over to sit down beside him. “Hopefully you have that battery you’ve been talking about lined up?” You ask, taking the bottle and having a sip before handing it back to him. “What’s your plan?”

Joel sighs as he takes a sip from the bottle of whiskey. "Tess is meeting the asshole who has the battery to confirm we are getting it and we have the credits. Tess is out tonight and she - she should be coming over here." He frowns, glancing down at his broken watch and curses himself before he looks out of the window. "She can look after herself though."

“Oh, uh, I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” You tell Joel honestly. As much as you’ve enjoyed your time with Joel, you know that he’s not yours. You are just a toy to him, a sex toy to use and then forget exists until he needs to use you again. “If you’ve got someplace I can sleep, I’ll make sure I stay out of your way.”

Joel clicks his tongue, “like I said, me and Tess…it’s casual. We use each other. Besides, I wouldn’t want you anywhere else with this shit going down.” He says, his fingers twitching around the bottle. “You need to be safe.”

“It’s okay if it’s more than casual.” You tell him, reaching for the bottle again. “Really. I’m not judging.” You take another sip and look around. “I’m safe here? With you?” You ask, flirting with him slightly.

Joel snorts, “you’re safe from what’s outside. Safe from me? I don’t think anyone is. Not even me.” He confesses, glancing across the room to avoid your gaze. “You’re too good for the sins I’ve committed with these hands. Shouldn’t have even been allowed to touch you.”

“I like when you touch me.” You admit. “It’s not like I’ve never done horrible things. We all have.” You tell him. “It’s why we are still alive.” The things you’ve done are things others would look down on, before Outbreak, even now. You don’t care about that, you’re alive.

Joel doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the crooked floor boards. “I like touching you. A lot. It’s why I’ve always come back to you. I think about you, you know? When I don’t see you that day.” He admits, biting his lip as he struggles to get out anything emotional.

It’s almost physical, your reaction to his confession. Straightening up and feeling proud of yourself. Preening that Joel thinks about you when he’s not there. “I think about you too.” You admit. “Used to ask if you had sent word about coming.”

Joel's stomach twists and he turns to look at you. "I wanted to come more but shit keeps happening and the credits..." He trails off, frowning at the fact that he's spent quite a bit on having sex with you.

“I know.” You lean in, admiring the way his eyes are dark and seemingly boring into your soul. “But now, there’s no credits to exchange.” You point out. “When you want me again, take me.”

Joel knows that Tess could be back any second but he could never resist when you look at him like that. He swallows harshly and his dark eyes flick down to your lips, slowly leaning in to give you a chance to pull back but when you don't, he leans in to press his lips to yours.

This kiss is softer, sweeter than the kisses Joel had given you in the club. Raw and real, no agreement between you. Reaching up, you slide a hand around the back of his neck and move to straddle him. He’s still dusty and dirty from the blast, but you don’t care. You’re alive and so is he. That’s all that matters right now.

Joel sighs into the kiss, his hands trailing along your spine. He shouldn’t be soft. He shouldn’t allow emotions to seep into the hard shell he’s maintained with you but he needs to reassure himself that you’re alive and okay. He deepens the kiss, gripping your chin to tilt your head, and he slides his tongue into your mouth when you gasp.

Your eyes flutter closed and you melt against him. Rolling your hips slowly as the kiss deepens. Loving the closeness, the sweetness of the moment. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced with him. It’s almost like you are a new couple, slowly feeling each other out.

Joel knows he can’t fuck you. You must be sore from earlier and from the blast, and he’s filthy, but your body moving on top of him and your tongue tangling with his has him groaning into your mouth, his cock hardening beneath you.

You moan into his mouth, enjoying the way his body responds to you and even though you know that he’s not going to fuck you, your cunt is dripping. Enjoying the celebration that you are alive and so is he. Slowly, your fingers slide up into his hair and you tangle your fingers into the longer locks. He groans again when you grind down onto him, making him thrust up into you. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass in the tatty jeans and he loves the way you whimper in response.

“I love your hands.” You groan, breaking off the kiss to run your lips down his jaw. “Strong, hard.” You murmur. “Deadly. I know what they could do, but you only make me feel good.”

His hands squeeze your ass again, “love your fucking body. Fucking love your ass and your pussy.” He grunts, unused to giving compliments and especially receiving them. You rock down onto him and he hisses in response, “that’s it. Take what you want, sweetheart.”

You moan at his praise, surprisingly mild considering some of the dirty talk he has given you over the years. It makes this even more sensual and intimate. “You’re so fucking good Joel.” You pant breathlessly. “So good. Dream about you touching me.”

He chuckles, “the fuckin’ dreams I’ve had about you. Wake up hard. Didn’t used to do that. Gettin’ too fuckin’ old to be waking up with a hard on.” He snorts, leaning in to kiss along your neck, resisting the urge again to bite down.

You whimper, closing your eyes and your hips drag over his hard cock. “Bite me, baby.” You beg softly. “Always wanted you to. Always wanted to have you mark me.”

He groans, nudging his nose against your ear as you rock down onto his hard cock like he’s a goddamn teenager. “I can’t. The fungus.” He grunts and you shake your head, “don’t care. I don’t care. Please.” You whimper and how can he ever deny you when you beg so sweetly. He licks along the salty skin of your neck before he sinks his teeth into your flesh to mark you as his.

It’s better than you imagined. Just shy of breaking the skin, you know that he is marking you. Hard enough that the imprint of his teeth will last. “Fuck, Joel.” You whine, rocking your hips faster as your clit throbs. “More, baby, fuck.”

He groans into your skin, and wanting you to cum on top of him. He hasn’t done this since he was a fucking teenage boy and he feels like he’s gonna cum in his pants too fast like one with his teeth in your skin. His fingers dig into your ass and he rocks you a little faster, wanting you to cum.

“Joel.” You whine, closing your eyes and rolling your hips frantically, chasing the friction against your clit. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pant out, shivering when his teeth dig into your skin harder and he squeezes you. Encouraging you to cum and you let go. Body exploding in pleasure as you reach your peak with a cry.

Joel groans into your skin, withdrawing his teeth to lick along the mark he caused, his body almost vibrating with possessiveness as you shake above him, orgasm rocking through you. He pulls back to look at your blissed out face and he hisses, fingers digging into your ass to keep you rocking on top of him. He's so fucking close. He leans in to bury his face in your chest, breathing you in as he rocks once more and grunts, spilling into his pants like a teenager.

You feel his cock throbbing, groaning quietly when you realize that he’s cum in his pants. It makes you feel powerful, that this man can cum just from you grinding into him. “Fuck, fuck.” You whisper, fingers slowly untangling from his hair and stroking it gently back into place. “We’re alive.” You murmur softly, feeling tired and euphoric at the same time. “Thank you, baby.”

He closes his eyes, suddenly exhausted, and for the first time in a long time it's not because of booze. He caresses your back, inhaling deeply to calm his racing heart. "Shit. I need a shower." He chuckles softly, knowing that he's filthy and now he's got cum all over him.

“Shower.” You murmur softly and shift off of him onto the sofa again. “Maybe you will be able to sleep afterwards.”

Joel nods, grimacing as he stands up. He doesn't have a lot of clothes and cum stains are a bitch to deal with. He sighs and waddles to the bathroom, making you giggle. He turns his head to look at you, a slight glare at you until he can't hold back the smirk, "fuckin' laughing at me." He grumbles but grins when his back is turned as he shuffles into the bathroom.

You giggle again, looking around the apartment, interested in seeing what Joel lives like. You only ever deal with him in the club so this is a nice insight. Moving over to the bed, you yawn, feeling tired and you lay down when you hear the water start running.

Joel comes out with a ratty towel wrapped around his waist, seeing you asleep and curled up in his bed making his stomach twist. He hasn’t cared about someone this much in so long. He doesn’t really know how to act. He grabs a clean pair of threadbare briefs, deciding to redress in case he has to get up quickly and slides into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you with a soft sigh as he closes his eyes.

You hear the door open, the darkness outside the windows telling you it’s still the middle of the night. A small groan, and a hand slides around Joel, bumping your back. “What the fuck?” The question is whispered but you don’t say anything and Joel just grunts and his arm squeezes around the hand. Your eyes flutter closed, too tired to really worry about it, although you know that Tess just came home.

When the light filters through the shitty blinds, you hear voices in the kitchen and blink through the exhaustion, your body aching as you shift to sit up. “I can’t believe you brought the fucking prostitute back to the apartment.” Tess hisses and Joel growls, “don’t fucking call her that. She’s a good girl. She was just trying to survive like all of us.”

Anxiety swirls in your stomach and you know that it was a mistake to let Joel convince you to stay. Wincing as you stand, you shuffle around the small half wall and bite your lip. “I’ll go.” You tell Joel, shooting Tess, a surprisingly young looking blond with a black eye and cuts all over her face, an apologetic look. “I don’t want to cause problems. Joel- he saved my life. From a bombing.”

Tess stares at you and you realize there’s more between her and Joel than he let on. “Stay.” Joel insists and you shake your head, “I can’t.” He sighs and narrows his eyes at Tess. “You have nowhere to go. Stay here. We - we gotta go get the battery and then we will be back. Remember what I told you? About Bill’s?” He asks, ignoring the way Tess shakes her head.

“Look, I don’t want to cause issues, and obviously being here is doing just that.” You tell Joel. “I- I’ll be okay.” Joel shakes his head and looks towards Tess. “She’s the only reason we have the credits for the battery.” He growls. You shrug. “Doesn’t matter. I’m obviously not welcomed here and this is her space.”

Joel stares at Tess who sighs and turns to look at you. “Don’t go. Stay here. Joel clearly has a plan and there’s no changing his mind. Stay and we will get the battery then we will leave the QZ. Do you have any experience fighting or killing the infected?” Tess asks, crossing her arms.

You snort and shake your head, irritated at her idea that you are helpless. “I’ve survived this far.” You remind her. “And I’ve only been in the QZ for five years. I was pulling my own weight in whatever group I was in.”

Tess nods, looking at Joel again. “Fine. She can come. Just don’t be getting yourself killed. I don’t want to deal with a pissed off Joel.” She says as she pushes past you to grab her stuff to go and get the damn battery.

You look at Joel but he just shakes his head. Obviously no one is going to explain why Tess looks like she’s been worked over. “Stay here.” He tells you, handing you a bag. “Go through the apartment, take whatever you need.”

You nod and Joel sighs as he grabs his boots, getting ready to go shake down for the battery. He’s ready to fucking kill that bastard for putting his hands on Tess. When he’s ready, he stands up and walks over to you, his eyes pleading slightly, almost worried that you’re going to leave. “Don’t go. Let me figure this out. Get you somewhere safe.” He urges and when you nod, he stalks out of the door, shoulders set as he prepares to beat that asshole up.

Alone in the apartment, you sigh, looking around and deciding that you will pack up what you can. If they get the battery, then there is a good chance you will be leaving the QZ tonight. Not that you will miss it, but you wish you had a weapon. For now, you need to find some good shoes, not the worn sneakers you had been given by the neighbor. Opening the closet, you spy a pair of boots and smirk slightly. They are obviously Tess’s but they look like they will fit.

“I can’t believe you gave her my fucking clothes to wear.” Tess gripes and Joel snorts, “you wanted to come back and find her naked in the bed?” Tess rolls her eyes, “all those fucking credits you’ve paid her because I didn’t want you to fuck my ass.” Joel huffs, “can we not do this right now?” He asks as they enter the building to find the battery.

“Fine.” She goes to push open the secret door but finds that it’s blocked. “What the hell?” She huffs, banging on it again. “Do you smell that?”

Joel wrinkles his nose and tenses, gun ready as he pushes the door open with all his might. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses at the stench. Dead bodies. Men litter the floor, gunshot wounds in their bodies, and Joel glances around at the massacre. “Shit.” He grunts, back tense as he listens out for anyone hiding.

The next burst of movement, Tess watches as Joel grabs a girl and throws her to the ground, his gun pointed at her. “Point them at me!” A shout from down the hall catches her attention and she sees Marlene, leader of the Fireflies in Boston. “Not at her.” Tess scoffs. “Well if it isn’t the Che Guevara of Boston.” She snorts. “Looking a little worse for wear there.”

Joel keeps his gun pointed at the kid, unsure of if she is armed, and Tess sighs, “Joel.” She murmurs and his lip twitches as he shifts his gun towards Marlene.

“Asshole.” The kid hisses and it makes Tess smirk as she listens to the deal that Marlene makes. It’s a good one, especially since it would mean better equipment than what they could get themselves. Joel is on the fence, but she knows that he will do what she wants. “Think of your girlfriend.” Tess tells him. “The FEDRA vehicle will be nicer than what we’ve got.

Ellie lunges for the knife and Joel swings his gun back towards her as he steps on the weapon. 

“Joel!” Marlene hisses, shaking her head. “Ellie, no.” She instructs the little girl. “You are all that matters. Joel will take you to my people, you go with him.”

Joel shakes his head, unable to believe the turn this has taken. “Get your shit, kid. We wait until it’s dark then we leave.” He orders, letting go of the girl and kicking her knife aside. He glares at Tess and stalks along the hall, heading back to the apartment.

When the key turns in the lock to the apartment, you stand up. Watching in amazement as a kid is shoved inside and the door pulled closed behind her. “Hey! Assholes!” The girl, probably around thirteen, doesn’t notice you as she bangs on the door for a few seconds, obviously upset at being shoved in here. You wonder what the hell is going on and if she is coming with you.

Joel hisses at Tess as she tells she will be back and he shakes his head, unlocking the door and Ellie tries to escape but he pushes her back in and locks the door behind him. “Sit down kid.” He orders, his eyes finding yours and he walks over to you. “She’s coming with us” is all he says.

“Oh.” Your eyes slide up and down his body, noticing that he had gotten soaked in the rain. “Everything go alright?” You ask anxiously, but Joel just shakes his head. “No.” He grunts. “But we will leave tonight.”

He dries off best he can without getting changed and he sits down on the sofa. Ellie sits by the window, looking between you and Joel. “So are you two like, a couple? Ohhh you’re a throuple.” She guesses, figuring Tess is with you and Joel. “Cool. Progressive.” She says with a nod.

“No, no, nothing like that.” You promise, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What’s your name?” You ask, and she smirks, aware that you are trying to change the subject. “Veronica.” She lies and Joel snorts. “Really? Marlene called you Ellie.” He challenges and she rolls her eyes. You grin at her attitude and introduce yourself.

Ellie huffs, “is he always this fucking grumpy?” She asks and you snort, nodding your head. “It’s kind of his thing.” Ellie looks at Joel and shrugs. Joel closes his eyes and Ellie frowns, “you tired already?” She asks and Joel crosses his arms, “gonna be a long wait until it’s dark, might as well get some sleep.”

Joel shifts to lay down on the sofa, so you move towards the end, but he frowns at you. Making you wonder what you’ve done wrong. He covers his eyes with his arm and Ellie scoffs. “You know your watch is broken?” Joel tenses, but doesn’t answer and you are curious about the watch, never remembering him taking it off before but you don’t know if it was broken. Too busy obeying him.

Joel doesn’t respond as he closes his eyes and listens to the rain hit the window and he listens to you and Ellie breathing, trying to act nonchalant but he’s tense and waiting for something to happen. “So…you guys been together a while?” Ellie asks you, ever curious.

“Oh, no, we aren’t together.” You don’t know how you would explain your relationship to this girl, but you know that it’s not being together. “He’s helping me.” You tell her with a small smile. “He’s a friend.”

Ellie nods, a little smirk on her face as she reaches up to draw a smiley face on the window in the condensation. “Sureeee.” She says softly, not believing you. Not with how Joel was around you compared to how he was around Tess. She’s observant and she noticed in seconds how he behaved around you.

You huff and bite your lip, looking over at Joel and wonder if he’s just ignoring the conversation or if he’s fallen asleep. He’s still frowning, so you think he’s awake but you can’t be sure. That unhappy look might just be the normal set to his face in such a harsh world. “Why are you sneaking out of the QZ?” You ask her, sure that she should be in the FEDRA school or at least with her parents.

Ellie doesn’t look at you as she stares out of the window, “I gotta go west. It’s - it’s complicated.” She says vaguely. Marlene had told her to never tell anyone about why she needed to get to Colorado. Joel is listening but doesn’t let on that he is. Marlene didn’t exactly tell him why she had to go west to the Fireflies. He doesn’t give a shit honestly. He just needs to find Tommy and make sure you’re somewhere safe.

“West is dangerous.” You tell her quietly. “Raiders and slavers.” You send the girl a pointed look. “If someone offers you help, for nothing, don’t trust them. At all. Kill them. They will do worse to you, if they get a chance.”

Ellie tries to not look like she’s scared. She puts on a brave front but she’s never left the QZ. She only dealt with the infected that fateful night in the mall. She is terrified but she’s tough, sitting up a little straighter and she tries to convincingly say to you “I can handle myself.”

You don’t disabuse her of the notion, but it’s obvious she’s not able to handle herself out there. Not without someone. “Stay close to Joel and listen to him.” You advise. “He’ll make sure you get where you’re going.”

Joel listens, withholding the scoff at Ellie’s bravado and his stomach twists at your trust in him. He hasn’t had anyone trust him like that since…since Sarah. He almost touches his broken watch, the memory of the moment his daughter died, but he maintains his act and listens to you and Ellie talk a little more until the sun starts to go down.

During the talk with Sarah, you had been rubbing Joel’s leg. Not that you even realized it, just absent mindedly caressing him as you chatted with the teenager. Until the doorknob turns and you snatch your hand away as Tess comes into the apartment. “It’s time.” She tells you, lifting a brow at your guilty expression.

Joel pretends to wake up, wincing as he sits up and that’s not put on. He’s getting achy when he sits in the same position for too long now. Fuck, he’s getting old. He grunts as he sits up, looking at you, then Ellie, then finally, Tess. “Get your shit. We leave in ten.” He says, “I’m gonna take a piss.” He announces and walks into the bathroom.

Tess looks at you and rolls her eyes. “Did you pack up enough of my shit?” She asks, narrowing her eyes when she sees the boots on your feet, but she doesn’t comment on those. “Yes, I did.” You snort, picking up the backpack you had filled with necessities and even the gun you had discovered under the floorboard.

Tess huffs as Joel comes out of the bathroom and he rubs his hands on his jeans. “Get your shit, kid. We are heading out.” He says, “don’t wanna be later. The guards will be changing shifts soon.” Joel explains, grabbing his jacket and his backpack that he keeps ready to go. He walks over to the floorboards and takes his weapons out, the credits he keeps hidden. He packs it up and Tess gets herself ready. Once the group is ready to go, Joel brings his finger to his lip. “Everyone keeps quiet. No one says a word.”

The jacket you had stolen from the closet is probably Tess’s but you wear it anyways. Keeping your head down, you keep close to Joel and the girl, Tess following behind you. Feeling nervous about the idea of going out into the wild again, you take a deep breath as they take you along alleys and pathways, down to a sewer entrance. “Really?” Ellie snorts and Joel rolls his eyes as he motions for you to go down. You grab the flashlight and lower yourself down, descending into the darkness.

Ellie hesitates but Joel pushes Ellie inside of the sewer and she reluctantly gets down, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “Gonna get a whole lot worse from here, kid.” Joel warns her and helps Tess in before he heads down and pulls the manhole cover back over.

You get down and start shining your flashlight up and down the sewer, grimacing to yourself. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to do something like this and you haven’t missed it. “Come on.” Joel grunts when he hops down from the ladder. “This way.”

He escorts the group through the tunnel, stopping when he hears a noise, his hand raised until he thinks it’s safe to keep walking. He guides the women to the end of the sewer, glancing out of the grates and he raises his finger to his lips again, telling everyone to be quiet as he takes a second to listen for anyone outside before he works on pushing the grate free so they can exit the sewer.

“Holy shit, I’m outside!” Ellie cries out and the three of you groan as Joel grabs her and yanks her down right as the spotlight rolls around. “Don’t get us caught!” You hiss, knowing the FEDRA agents won’t be happy to catch you outside the QZ. Too many people have been hung lately.

Joel mentally curses Marlene and he shushes the kid. "Keep your mouths shut." Joel hisses at everyone as he lifts his head and he steps forward to check for any guards. "This way." He growls, stepping quietly through the outer fences of the QZ, his gun aimed as his heart pounds in his chest, his ears listening for anyone nearby.

Your heart stops when you hear the FEDRA agent yell at all of you to freeze. Instantly complying because you know that it will be worse if you fight them. You hold up your hands and look at Joel and Tess.

"Get down on your knees." The FEDRA agent growls and Joel follows his order, his hands in the air, and he curses softly. When the test stings his neck, Joel hisses and the agent moves on to Tess. Joel tries to bargain, offering the agent some more pills but he isn't having it.

“Well what do we have here?” You know that voice, you hate that voice. This guy is in the club and he has a sadistic streak. He gets his rocks off on hurting others, sometimes you. Rarely though, since he knows Joel sees you. “Baby, you aren’t running away are you?” He coos, stroking your cheek and you jerk back from his touch. “We could have so much fun together.”

Joel clenches his jaw, so ready to kill this motherfucker for touching you. He hisses under his breath and the guard pulls your jacket down, leaning in towards your neck until he pulls back rapidly. “What the fuck? Someone bit you?” He gasps, “you’re fucking infected?” The guard asks, grabbing the back of your neck to drag you to your feet. Joel doesn’t even take a second to react. Spinning around, he grabs the asshole to drag him to the ground and starts to hit. His fists striking his head over and over. The blood splattering over Joel’s face as he loses himself to the haze of violence that he’s learned to lean into for his survival since the outbreak. His vision goes dark as he focuses on hitting the guard, his only goal to keep you and Ellie and Tess safe.

“Joel!” Tess snaps, your eyes wide and fixed on the sight in front of you. Joel beating the man to death, his body limp and lifeless and you know that Joel isn’t going to let you be hurt. He’s going to protect you at all costs. You walk over to him and when he pulls back for another hit, you touch his shoulder.

Joel flinches as you touch his shoulder, the urge to lash out almost overwhelming him until the haze clears and he looks up at you. His knuckles torn up as he looks down at the lifeless body beneath him, blood and brain matter scattered across the ground. He stands up on shaking legs, wiping his hands on the guys jacket. “We need to go. Now.” He grunts, his voice rough with the lust for violence. Ellie stares, almost fascinated and enjoying the sight until Tess taps her and she shrugs her backpack as she waits for Joel to lead.

You aren’t afraid of him, that’s not what this is. It’s almost a fascination. You’ve only ever seen Joel in control. Control of you, control of the scene, of what happens. The violence tempered, but now you wonder what it would be like for him to touch you when he’s like this. Would it be as sweet or would it sting?

Joel is shaking slightly as he flings his shotgun over his shoulder, continuing to guide the group away from the QZ. Another life he’s taken. Another life that darkens his soul. He doesn’t think about it too long, won’t allow himself the distraction as he keeps his eyes and ears open to hear of any other threats.

You follow behind him, watching closely as he tries to compose himself, knowing that he might need a few minutes to himself. Tess noticed, the girl has also been bit, but it wasn’t by Joel. The scanner had shown red and she’s infected, although she had promised that she wasn’t and that she could explain. You don’t even know if Joel registers that right now.

**** 

Joel’s eyes widen when Tess shows him the bite, rearing back, he shakes his head. The guilt floods through him, knowing he didn’t protect her, didn’t love her like she wanted him to. He’s wasted her life and she could’ve been with someone who could give all of them to her. “I- no.” He shakes his head, refusing to accept that she’s going to die. That she’s sacrificing herself for the rest of the group.

Tess smiles, the curve of her lips bittersweet and her eyes flicker towards you and then back to Joel. “If you cared about me at all, just a little. Just a fraction of what I felt for you, listen to me.” She begs him. “That girl is important. To everyone.” She understands now how important Ellie can be to humanity, to winning this horrible war with the infected. “Get her to Bill and Frank, they will know what to do with her.” She promises. “They can get her out west. Joel-“ she doesn’t reach for him, but she wants to. “Stop denying yourself what you want.” Swallowing harshly, she looks back at you. “Take care of her, and she’ll take care of you. You love her, even if you won’t admit it and she looks at you like you’ve hung the moon.” She snorts. “And she lets you put it in her ass. Don’t waste more time. You might not have much of it left, old man.”

Joel would usually chuckle at Tess’s frankness but right now, he’s devastated that he’s losing his closest friend, his partner. He nods, eyes hardening as the mission becomes clear again and he grabs Ellie who screams, “let me go, you fucker” as she resists leaving Tess. He grabs your arm too as he passes you, dragging both of you out of the capital building and into the forest where you can hide from the infected. The explosion shakes the ground and Joel pushes both women down, covering you and Ellie with his body.

Your eyes close and you start to silently cry, hating that Tess has sacrificed herself for the three of you. You know that she was infected, that she would have turned, but it’s still a loss. Joel cared about her, he had to have after spending so much time with her. Comfortable or not, she meant something to him. Joel pops up, gun in his hand to watch if any infected come out of the now burning building.

“Let’s go.” Joel orders when he feels the infected aren’t rushing towards you. He walks a little faster, pushing you and Ellie to move in front of him just so he can still cover you both. He’s quiet when you get into the forest, replaying Tess’s words over and over again. His eyes shifting over to you. Does he love you? Had Tess seen something before he even saw it himself. You turn to look at him, eyes bloodshot with shed tears and yet you muster a smile for him. His chest tightens and he swallows harshly, not returning the smile as his thoughts are chaos.

The walk is quiet, glum until you reach a stream. It’s a good place to rest for a moment. Joel needs it, he needs a moment to process. You herd Ellie off towards a tree and sit her down. “I’ll go get some water.” You offer, taking her canteen and Joel’s and moving down to the water's edge.

Joel shakes his head, tears stinging in his eyes as he crouches beside the edge of the river. He sighs and grabs a stone, admiring the smooth surface and he decides to find more, stacking them up in a small memorial to Tess, one stone for each year he knew her. He isn't a praying man but he says a silent eulogy to her, wishing her soul peace after fighting so long. He hopes she is reunited with her son and husband. He sighs, wiping his hands on his jeans as he makes his way back to you and Ellie.

It’s tense, and when Ellie speaks, Joel snaps at her. You know that she’s afraid that Joel is going to blame her, that if it were for her, that this wouldn’t have happened. She’s wrong. “We are all at risk out here.” You remind them both. “Best thing we can do is honor Tess’s wishes and get you where you need to go.” You don’t mention the other part, not able to put it into words. “Right?”

Joel nods, “yeah. We need to keep moving.” Joel says, striding ahead, hands clasped around his rifle. He’s mourning Tess but he has a duty to you and Ellie. He needs to get you somewhere safe and needs to get Ellie west. Then he can find Tommy. He doesn’t say another word as the sun climbs higher in the sky, the journey to Bill and Frank’s is carved in his mind so he can let his mind wander slightly to Tess’s words about you. Does he love you? It’s been so long since he even knew what love felt like. He’s built an impenetrable wall around his heart and he doesn’t know how to let anyone in.

Ellie starts to talk. Joel sometimes answers, but pretty often, he’s locked inside his own mind so you chatter with the younger girl. Telling her about your own experiences after outbreak and what happened, why you’re so watchful as the three of you walk along the road. You’re cutting close to an embankment and Joel urges you away, but Ellie is curious. Making you shove down the unease since you are sure you know what he’s trying to steer you away from.

Joel tells Ellie to stay away, wanting to protect her from the horror that lies in the embankment. He pushes her along and Ellie is curious as ever so he explains briefly what happened before she keeps asking him a million questions. His eyes drift over to you, wondering if you ever saw anything happen like that before you found the QZ.

You shiver slightly, looking at the bodies and you close your eyes. Not a particularly religious person, but you say a prayer for those poor people in the ditch. “Fuckers.” You mutter to yourself. “Hopefully all of them got infected.”

You walk for hours, the sun beating down on your face as you walk along the dirt road, once used by hundreds of cars a day. Joel glances up as the sun is starting to set and he doesn't like being out in the dark. He searches the forest for a safe spot, something with a little height and there's a river nearby. "We stop here." He says, stepping into the forest so you are covered by the bushes and the growth.

You follow him quietly, kneeling down and opening your bag. You had packed up most of the food in the apartment, determining they weren’t coming back to Boston and it would be needed. Opening a bag, you toss it to Ellie and then hand one to Joel. “How is your hand?” You ask quietly.

He flexes his fingers, glad he soaked the blood off in the river but it will take a while for the skin to heal. “It’s fine.” He grunts, taking a sip of the water he got from the river earlier. He watches Ellie practically inhale her food and he sees you hesitate. “Eat.” He orders, not wanting you to get ill or make a stupid mistake before you get to Bill’s.

“Yes sir.” You quietly murmur, smirking at the slight use of his preferred name in the club. You open up the bag and take out some of the jerky before taking a sip of your canteen. Joel shoots you a look, but he doesn’t say anything, making you bite your lip.

Joel is pleased to see you eating and he hates how his cock twitches when you call him ‘sir.’ Always sounds so fucking cute coming from your lips. He clears his throat and opens his pack, chewing on the jerky as he watches you from across the clearing. He will set up a fire if the coast remains clear. If he hears anything at all, he won’t risk it.

You finish up and pack away the rest of the food and wipe your hands on your jeans. “You have a sleeping bag? Or a blanket?” You ask Ellie.

Ellie shakes her head, “no. I don’t.” Joel sighs, grabbing his pack. “You can use mine. I ain’t gonna sleep. Gonna keep watch.” He says and hands Ellie the rolled up sleeping bag. “Here you go, kid.” He says and looks over at you, “you have one.” He tells you, reminding you of Tess’s sleeping bag you got from her when she handed you her pack.

“Yeah.” You frown slightly, feeling a little morbid about sleeping in a dead woman’s bag, but it’s not like you haven’t done that before. Everything everyone owns came from someone who died. It wasn’t like they are making a lot of new shit.

Ellie doesn’t take long to settle down in the sleeping bag, going to sleep like someone who has nothing to stay awake worrying about. No regrets. No losses. She’s innocent and her ease of sleep reminds Joel of how much he’s lost of himself over the years.

“I wouldn’t start a fire this close to the city.” You murmur softly, still awake and watching Joel as he scans the area. “Not unless you need it. Too many wander around here, looking for easy targets.”

Joel’s eyes meet yours again. Fuck, you’re so pretty. He nods, “I wasn’t planning on it. It’s not too cold. And it’s better to keep undercover. You okay? You cold?” He asks, knowing he’ll offer you his jacket if you need it.

“No. I’m warm enough.” You promise, letting the silence fall between the two of you for another minute. “I’m sorry about Tess, Joel.” You whisper. “So goddamn sorry.”

Joel stares at the ground, unsure of how to respond when he is the one who got Tess caught in that situation. He should’ve paid more attention. He should’ve done something to save her. He shakes his head, “it’s over now. She’s at peace.” He murmurs, hoping that when the day comes that he dies - either killed or bitten - that he will meet Sarah again.

You don’t speak again, settling down and closing your eyes. You wish Joel would crawl into the sleeping bag with you, but you know he won’t. Instead you try to get what little sleep you can, your gun under your leg, right in finger’s reach.

Joel sits there, listening to the noises of the woods. Nature has crept back into places that humans drove them from. Boston was once a bustling city and now it’s a sanctuary for the infected and the animals that have braved the derelict city now that the humans have almost disappeared. He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on Tess’s death. She sacrificed herself when she was going to die anyway. Joel knows he should be devastated but she was his comfort, his partner. She wasn’t the woman he was in love with. He imagines if it was you in Tess’s place and his heart clenches at the thought, almost in pain at the mere thought.

When you wake up, it’s not even sunrise yet, but it’s surprising you had slept through the night. It’s not something you’ve done in a long time. Sitting up, you immediately look for Joel and frown when you don’t see him. “Shit.” You hiss, reaching for the gun. “Joel?” You whisper softly.

He’d gone for a piss when you wake up and he hears you whisper his name. “I’m right here, baby.” He says softly, not wanting to wake Ellie before he has to. He kneels down beside you, “you doing okay?”

“Yeah.” You’re relieved that he’s there and you reach up to touch him. “Just wanted to- I didn’t see you.” You admit sheepishly. “Freaked me out for a minute.”

He nods, understanding how you feel and he wishes he could show you more emotion. He reaches for your hand, squeezing it, and he offers you a tiny smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Gonna get you somewhere safe.” He promises, “we ain’t too far from Bill’s. We will get there before it’s dark.”

You nod, wishing that you could ask him why he was so willing to leave you behind, but you’re chicken. Tess was wrong, he doesn’t care about you. Not like that. He feels beholden to you. “I trust you, Joel.” You admit softly. “Have from the very beginning.”

He doesn’t deserve your trust. Too many people have died that he was supposed to protect. He lets go of your hand and decides to wake Ellie up, wanting to get to Bill’s sooner rather than later. “Come on, kid. Time to get up.” He says a little louder, smirking slightly at her groan of protest. Typical teenager.

It doesn’t take long to get cleaned up, you go with Ellie to the stream to wash your face and rinse out your mouths. Rolling up the sleeping bags and shoving it back into your packs before starting back out onto the road. “Need to find some pads or tampons.” You tell Joel.

Joel nods, feeling a little awkward but glad that you’re here to help Ellie if she needs that shit. If you need it, well, he’s just relieved that you aren’t pregnant. That would be a complication beyond anything else right now. “Bill probably has some in his place. Keeps all kinds of shit.” He says, keeping his eyes on the road ahead and his ears listening for anything or anyone.

You and Ellie talk, the younger girl full of questions and it’s only a few hours later that you are walking to the edge of a gated community. “Bill and Frank have their own town?” You ask in amazement.

Joel doesn't respond with anything other than a nod as he enters the code to open the gate. Noticing immediately the decline of the house, the flowers aren't watered and his heart sinks.

You frown slightly, not seeing anyone. You had expected someone to greet you. Either with a welcoming smile, or a shotgun. Who knows how Joel’s friends act. You stay close to Ellie, trailing behind Joel as he makes his way to one house and opens the door.

His chest tightens at the lack of activity around the house. Normally Frank would already be coming up to Joel, asking him what he wants to eat and Bill would be grumbling about limited resources but there’s no one around and they don’t go out anywhere. Joel sets his pack down, making his way into the house to see the flies picking at the leftovers of a meal that looks rotten and he knows. His eyes sting with tears again but he inhales sharply and shoves down the emotions. He’s lost too many people. “They - they ain’t - they are gone.” Joel announces, “let’s shower. Get some food from their pantry.” He says, knowing he can look at Bill’s truck to see if it’s working.

“Okay.” You frown slightly, looking at the air of abandonment around the house and you know that they just didn’t leave. You bite your lips, feeling bad for Joel and you follow him upstairs. “I’m eating!” Ellie cries, hungry after the walk.

Joel nods, “you wanna shower?” He asks you, knowing you must want to after walking so far. You nod and he tells you where to go. “House is safe.” He promises, “the entire place is secure.” Joel sees the letter on the table but he can’t open it yet. He closes his eyes for a second before he sees you exit the room.

You wait, hesitant and respectful. Honestly waiting for someone to pop out, but you don’t get that. Doors are open and it’s obvious that the house was taken care of, despite the thick layer of dust that is now coating everything. “Come on.” You jump when you hear Joel, finding him watching you with sad eyes. “They have hot water.”

He guides you up the stairs to the bathroom. “I’m sorry.” It seems like that’s all you’ve been saying to him lately and you reach out to start unbuttoning his shirt. You assume that he wants to shower with you. Maybe fuck you, and you’re completely fine with that.

He wants you to shower with him and he is tired of pretending that he doesn’t want you. He was going to leave you here safe and sound with Bill and Frankie and now you’re gonna have to come with him and Ellie across the country. He’s terrified for something to happen to you out there.

You strip his shirt off and pull your own over your head. The jackets and packs left downstairs. Now it’s just the two of you. Reaching behind you, you unclip your bra and drag it down your arms. “A nice hot shower is exactly what you need.”

Joel nods, toeing off his boots and he kneels down to take yours off, tossing them down and helping you take off your socks. He slides his hands up your legs to unbutton your jeans and drag them down your legs along with your panties. "You're so fuckin' beautiful." He murmurs, his stomach twisting as he looks up at you.

“Joel…..” your heart pounds at the way he is looking at you, wishing that you had the courage to tell him how you feel. “How do you want me?” You ask breathlessly. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

"Shower, baby. Let's get under the hot water. Who knows when we will get another shower." He says, groaning as he stands up, unbuckling his jeans to push them down and his cock is half hard as his briefs hit the floor. "Get in." He orders, "make sure it's not too hot."

You groan when the hot water hits your skin. “It’s perfect.” You moan quietly, enjoying the heat. You always loved hot showers but they were expensive and you rarely indulged in them at the club. Turning around, you watch him step into the shower.

He steps in behind you and reaches out to pull you into his chest, his head resting on yours as he wraps his arms around you. The water covers your bodies and he closes his eyes, relishing in the feel of your skin against his, knowing you’re alive and safe with him. He doesn’t need to say a word, you understand him more than he knows and you wrap your arms around his waist. Joel doesn’t know how long he stands there until he pulls his head back and surges forward to press his lips to yours, wanting to feel more of you.

If it surprises you that he kisses you, you don’t show it. Just immediately opening up and moaning into his mouth as his tongue wipes against yours. You need this, you crave feeling close to him. Scared and unsure of what would happen next. Your hands slide up his back and tangle into his now wet hair.

He spins you around, pushing you up against the cool tile as the water hits his back and his hand slides up from your waist to squeeze your breast, loving the way you moan into his mouth and he cups your cheek with his free hand, keeping your lips on his while he pinches your nipple.

“Joel!” You gasp out, cunt clenching and you are already dripping. Your fingers tighten into his hair and you pull slightly, loving how he hisses into your mouth. You can feel him grow harder against your hip and you rock against it.

He groans and kisses along your jaw, his hand sliding lower until he’s cupping your cunt, loving how wet you are already and he’s barely touched you. He slides his fingers through your folds until he’s rubbing your clit, wanting to hear you moan his name again.

You whimper, closing your eyes and leaning back against the shower stall as he rubs your clit. “Fuck.” You pant out. “You’re so good at this, fuck you always know how to touch me.”

He watches you as he rubs your clit, loving the way your mouth falls open and he slides his hand back until he can push two fingers into you, wanting to make sure you’re ready for him. “Tell me you’re mine.” He murmurs, wanting to hear it from your lips.

“Oh god.” Your eyes roll back. “I’m yours baby, fuck, I’m yours. I’m always yours.” You promise breathlessly. “All yours.” Shuddering, your walls clench down around his fingers and you bite your lip.

He loves and hates hearing you say that. Knowing that he doesn’t deserve you. The things he’s done…he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this, to have you like this. He works his fingers a little faster, twisting his wrist so he can press his thumb to your clit. “That’s right, baby. Mine. Gonna - gonna keep you safe.” He promises, leaning in to bite along your jaw.

You whimper his name quietly. “Gonna keep you safe too.” You moan, knowing that you will do whatever necessary to watch his back and keep him with you. Obviously you can’t stay here by yourself, so you’re pretty sure he’s bringing you with him out west. “Give you comfort. A place to lose yourself.”

Joel nods, his cock hard against your hip as he pushes against you, seeking friction. “So good to me, baby. Can I fuck you?” He asks, wanting to make sure. He’s not in the club anymore. This isn’t an environment with already agreed consent. You need to tell him if you want him inside of you.

“Please.” You beg, needing the closeness, the familiarity of him. Needing the release of his control over your body. “You can always fuck me. Anytime, anyway you need, daddy.” You whisper the word and give him a moderately innocent look.

His groan echoes against the tiles as he looks into your eyes, seeing the devotion and it spurs him on. “Joel. Call me Joel, baby. We ain’t in the club. I’m gonna take real good care of you.” He promises, curling his fingers inside of you.

“Joel.” Your moan of his name echoes in the shower. Seemingly louder than normal even though you’ve screamed his name before. Your hips lurch forward when he pulls his fingers back, craving them inside you. Loving how he stretches you out.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me. You gonna cum on my fingers like you’ve done before? Always so good for me.” He murmurs, pressing his thumb against your clit a little harder. “Cum for me, baby.” He demands quietly, yet his voice is like steel.

Your legs are shaking, The fact that you are pinned to the wall with his body is the only reason that you are still standing. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” You cry out, feeling the tension curling even tighter in your stomach until it snaps. “Jooooooeeeeellllll!” You wail his name, feeling the white hot pleasure race down your spin.

He loves the way you wail his name, thighs trapping his hand as he tries to work you through your orgasm, loving the way you shake and clench around his digits. “That’s it. That’s it. Jesus, you get so goddamn tight.” He hisses, pre-cum smearing on the skin of your hip.

You pant, not even able to respond because you are so breathless. No one has ever made you feel as good as Joel has. “Just for you, baby.” You manage after a few moments, moaning when he finally slips his fingers out of you. “Fuck me.” You beg. “Pussy, ass, whatever you want. I just need you inside me.”

He wants to make you cum around him. Pushing you back against the tiles, he grabs your leg and rests your foot on the edge of the bench that is kept in the shower, spreading your legs for him. He grips his cock and slides the head through your folds until he notches himself at your entrance and starts to slowly push into you with a low groan of your name.

It’s so slow it brings tears to your eyes. Feeling him slowly fill you up. Chasing away the emptiness inside you. It’s exquisite and all you can do is moan his name like it’s the only word you know.

He can’t say anything. Not wanting to be dominant over you, he only wants to touch you right now. Assure him that you’re alive and that you are here with him. He groans as he rocks into you.

Joel is so different this time. There’s no harsh demanding thrusts, the pace makes you ache like you never have before. Feeling every ridge of the length slowly pulling out and then rocking back into you. It’s enough that you wish you could stay locked in this moment forever.

His hands trail over your body, his hand squeezing your tit and he leans in to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth with an intensity that should terrify him. His fingers pinch your nipple and he wants you to cum for him.

You let Joel set the mood. Following him where he wants to lead you and moaning every time he bottoms out inside your cunt. “Joel.” You pant softly. “Please- I- fuck, I love this.”

He cups your cheek, bringing your eyes to his. “I love you.” He murmurs, knowing that he should be struggling with saying those words to you but it’s true. You’ve seen the darkest parts of him and you still want him. He loses himself when he’s with you in the best way possible.

You sigh in relief, so scared of saying those words. “I love you too.” You promise. “I love you, only you. Always you since the first time I met you.”

He murmurs your name, loving how you confess your feelings. He already knew but to hear it has his chest tightening. “Fuck, I- I want you to cum for me.” He pleads gruffly, his hand sliding down to rub your clit as he pushes his cock deep inside of you.

“Joel, baby.” You whimper his name again. Your eyes flutter closed and your hips chase the friction against your clit. You’re so close, chest heaving and you feel yourself come apart with a loud cry of pleasure while stars burst behind your eyes.

He grunts as your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him, and he hisses as your nails dig into the back of his neck, making him twitch inside of you as he tries to work you through your orgasm. “That’s it baby. Fuck. I- gotta pull out.” He murmurs, knowing he can’t get you pregnant. It’s a deathwish. You hate that he has to pull out, wishing you had that condom. When he rocks his hips back, you wrap your fingers around his cock and start to pump. “Cum for me, baby.” You beg, leaning in and pressing your lips to his jaw. “Cum for me, my love.”

Joel hisses at your touch and your words, his cock twitching in your hand, and he grunts, turning his head to press his lips to yours as he starts to cum, spurting over your lower stomach and hand as he paints your skin with hot seed.

“That’s it, baby.” You murmur softly, stroking him through his orgasm until he’s just pulsing in your hand. “Fuck, you look so good like that. I love you.”

He pants against your lips, kissing you softly as you work him through it until he's starting to soften in your hands. "I fuckin' love you. Gonna keep you safe." He promises, knowing he'd risk his life to keep you safe. He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he cups your cheeks, silently praying he can keep his vow.

[a-libra-writes]

can I please request for a Mordecai Heller x female reader? like reader is a showgirl who sings on stage like Mitzi one and tends to attract a lot of attention but backs out when they feel this murdercat plotting their death lmao. thank you 😁

heyo! I decided to do a looot of the cats for this one, since its p similar to my Peaky Blinders Jazz Singer post that I was fond of. GN Reader.

Being a Jazz Singer & Performer!

Rocky - When he was hired and met you for the first time, it was absolutely an "infatuation at first sight" situation. Pros!: He's unfailingly polite and sweet, he seems to play with even more energy when you two share a stage, his grin is very off-putting to creeps who shout up at the stage and harass you. Cons: He can get quite distracted when you two share a stage. Many times Zib has had to pull him back with the rest of the band, because he keeps unintentionally scooting closer to you.

The worst part of the Lackadaisy falling onto hard times is the fact you rarely worked there now - you had to sing at other clubs to make ends meet. One of Rocky's big motivators for getting the club back to its old self is you'd come back! Forever this time! (Probably). Rocky doesn't exactly have the time or money to visit the other clubs you work at, so he wants all of your attention during your infrequent visits to the Lackdaisy.

Freckle - Look, he's a shy kid, and the whole 'sneaking out under cover of night to do bootlegging/torpedo shenanigans' is still new. He doesn't have a lot of experience or frame of reference for what a good club singer is like, but Freckle thinks you've got to be one of the best. You have to be, right? Your voice is wonderful and you look positively celestial under the stage lights - wait, that's weird to think, right? Thank God he didn't say it out loud. ... He didn't, right?

Freckle hasn't the slightest idea of how to approach you, so it's up to Ivy and his cousin to drag him over and attempt conversation. It's... a little pitiable, but he's trying. That said, he's surprisingly outspoken and a little scary if someone tried to mess with you while you performed. You're used to the heckles and catcalls, but it's shocking to see that shy tabby jump up from his seat and raise his voice at them.

Ivy - She liked you from the moment she first saw you perform at the Lackdaisy, and that crush hasn't dulled over the months. She maaaay have kept a few posters that advertised the clubs you sang at, and may or may not have cajoled her way into those clubs so she could watch the show. She could easily sweet talk her way to backstage, too - seems you've got a fan.

When the Lackadaisy goes downhill, it's Ivy who wants to sweet talk you into returning. You'll bring in a crowd! The acoustics are great! Pretty pleeease? Her dad Ivy will pay you and not get in trouble until months later when the family accountant goes over the finances. Obviously she cares about the club's wellbeing, but she also wants to spend time with you! Though she's bold enough to just ask you outright. She's also bold enough to outright shout and fight anyone whose heckling you - throwing a heel is a favorite tactic.

Viktor - You're someone he saw often in the olden days, back when the club could afford to have you perform several times a week rather than once a month. Viktor never cared much for the cacophony the crowd and music made, though he knew objectively you were an excellent performer. Rather than endure the crowd, he'd listen to your voice drift across the caves backstage, rehearsing with the band or just by yourself. It was pleasant to listen to, and he could do so in private, either coming back from a job or about to go on one.

Once things began to fall apart, it's not as though he went around to clubs ... or anywhere, really. So if you stopped performing at the Lackadaisy, you might never see each other again. Choosing to stay (or at least do a few pity gigs) would lead to the surprising sight of the big, morose Slav working behind the bar and watching from there, rather than his previous hideouts. It's a little intense to be under that stare... but not all unpleasant? And given how sparse the crowd is, anyone making trouble and catcalling will get dealt with so promptly, they won't even have time to finish their wolf whistle.

Zib - Well, obviously he's going to be drawn in by an attractive singer. Come on. Zib can be smooth when he wants, chainsmoker-scent and rumpled clothes aside. The band likes to tease him mercilessly about it, but that doesn't stop him from cozying up while you two perform together and shooting his shot backstage after every show. Back when the Lackadaisy was thriving, he could afford to hang out at the other clubs you performed at; nowadays, though, that's not so likely.

Even so, starting up a friendship or even fling wouldn't be difficult. He's attracted to and interested in creative spirits, doubly so if you two had very different taste (so there's more to discuss!) and you got on well with the rest of the band. Late-night debates about this musician or that show over a game of cards and several bottles of wine, either together or with the rest of the boys, and waking up half-dressed and seriously hungover come sunrise. Opportunities for visiting would dwindle as the Lackadaisy's business dried up, though if you stayed on ... No, he wouldn't want that for you. If anything you'd be mentioning to him and the band that there's other places to perform to pay the bills. Well, it'd be food for thought.

Wick - Wick wouldn't call himself a music aficionado, especially what's listened to at these rowdy speakeasies, but he won't deny how hard it was to focus on his business associates when you were on stage. So when he discovered you often performed at his favorite club, it was a pleasant surprise. He really wanted to speak with you at some point, at least compliment the performance, but didn't want to come off as those typical entitled wealthy guys who get too fresh with ""lower"" class performers ... so sometimes you'd find flowers in the dressing room and an anonymous note of appreciation.

He finally gets a conversation when you're a guest at a posh party he's attending, or when you continue to perform at the Lackadaisy in spite of the dwindling crowd. It's a shame your large audience is missing, but at least it's way less awkward for him to strike up conversation when you come to the bar? He probably won't bring up the flowers. Oh god, what if you think that's weird. You probably assumed the flowers were some freak fan. Is he a freak fan? He's not, right? (It will take him like months of dating to finally admit to the flowers thing)

Serafine - A good-looking cat with a nice set of pipes is certainly someone she'd notice, especially if they were a regular performer at the Marigold Room and other places she frequented before that. If it was the former, she'd have plenty of chances to wink when you met eyes, "chancing" across you backstage or just being forward and chatting you up after the show. She certainly isn't shy about expressing her interest, and it could be a fun fling.

You do look adorable swinging your hips and swaying your tail along to the beat, not to mention the different get-ups you have to dress in. Serafine maaaay or may not have wanted to help pick a suit out, or help with make-up, or give you some of her jewelry to wear... It's half marking her territory and half she loves to lounge around your dressing room and be a pest. You'd never kick her out and she knows it. She'll do it in other clubs, too, though you have no idea how she keeps getting past security.

Nico - Like his sister, he has no qualms nor shame about trying to get your attention on stage. Unlike Serafine, though, he'd start doing it immediately and be a general pest after the show. The difference between his attention seeking and the other men's in the audience is he actually has some charisma when you two meet backstage, so you're only slightly inclined to tell him to buzz off. He wasn't much of a music expert, and he still isn't ... But he likes hearing you rehearse and hum to yourself, and it's endearing when he requests songs.

He's pleased when you get gigs at the Marigold Room, as it's easier to hang around before and after the show - and bonus, he gets to be extra aggressive with throwing creeps out to impress you! But if you're performing elsewhere then Nico will stop by. He might be bruised and/or bloody because he just left a job, but don't worry! Sometimes he'll even bring flowers or whatever - though without Serafine knowing, she'd never let him live it down.

Mordecai - He wouldn't approach you any differently from others - he'd still be his usual prickly, anti-social, often awkward self - in fact, he might avoid an avid performer, simply because they often have fans around them or at least people recognizing them. What could get his notice was someone whose real persona is very different from their ostentatious self on stage - more quiet and pensive, perhaps. Like any attempt at friendship, let alone romance, it's slow going with him.

That said, he's the type to admire professionalism in a performance. A well put together outfit, thoughtful musical arrangement (as if he's an expert ...). He wouldn't like a femme presenting singer have to wear skimpy clothes or tolerate a rowdy audience. If there was a questionable manager or creepy fan bothering them, Mordecai can deal with that, at least, not that he'd tell his friend/partner. Mordecai would generally glare down any touchy fans and annoying admirers like a jealous terrier. This amuses Mitzi to no end.

Asa - Simply put, he saw you performing at a ritzy party he was invited to and reached out to your manager so you might perform on a weekly basis at the Marigold Room. Very professional! He'd send flowers with his name to the dressing room afterward, would make sure you're finding everything to your liking and not being bothered by anyone. Requests to continue performing would bypass your manager to being nice, short handwritten notes.

Eventually he'd pay you extra and treat you to a nice dinner afterward, if you were comfortable with it. If you let the older man down, he's not too bothered. He'd continue the friendly business relationship and would still send flowers and so on. He'd rather keep you as a good business associate and continue to enjoy the performances than let his silly feelings get in the way. Alas, he is hopeless at discussions of your music. My guy called a ukelele a tiny guitar.

Wes - He never hung around the Marigold Room after hours - it's his workplace, and not really his vibe - but it's very hard to resist not sitting by for an hour (or three) with a drink while you finish your set. Sometimes you two will meet eyes, or he thinks you are, and he considers dropping backstage to say ... hello? He's an 'employee', so isn't checking up on you a normal thing to do? Make sure you're satisfied with the Marigold Room and all that. Right.

Ironically that's how he's finally able to meet the singer he's been mooning over for months. A drunk patron was getting too cozy on your way out, and Wes happened to be there. His face and ... charming demeanor is good for scaring off upper class wimps. So there's that. He's not so bad, though - clumsy, and prooobably realizes you're out of his league. You get to see more of his earnest side when you two meet outside of the Marigold Room, where his fellow murderous gangsters coworkers aren't watching yalls every move with popcorn in hand.

[paginate54]

Dave Lewis, LZ chronicler, on Robert's performance of Stairway. From Led Zeppelin Celebration Days FB page:

Some personal thoughts on this performance of Stairway To Heaven...

There was something profoundly moving watching the YouTube footage of Robert Plant performing Stairway To Heaven at the Andy Taylor concert.

This was the first live public airing of the song since the Led Zeppelin 02 Reunion on December 10 2007.

Before I delve in to this subject, Robert’s entire appearance was captivating. Thank you delivered with much emotion, Black Dog hammed up brilliantly and the version of Season of the Witch segueing into a reprise of Black Dog lyrics and Buffalo Springfield’s For What it’s Worth – as in the LA Forum 1970 Blueberry Hill bootleg.

Incidentally, bassist on the night Guy Pratt noted that he has now performed Black Dog with both Robert and Jimmy Page – he was part of the touring band on the Coverdale Page Japan visit in late 1993. The band line up on the night consisted of the aforementioned Guy, former Reef guitarist Kenwyn House (wearing a dragon patterned shirt shades of Jimmy perhaps), Rod Stewart’s drummer David Palmer, Andy Taylor plus Andy Taylor’s son Andy J Taylor on guitar, singer Anne Rani and musician Dino Jelusick on keyboard and backing vocals.

So back to Stairway To Heaven...

We have all had a journey with this song over the years. Mine commenced on April 4 1971 when I heard it on my radio listening to Led Zeppelin’s BBC In Concert performance on Radio One’s John Peel show. I’d heard Jimmy in an interview describing how it had come together in various sections building to a climax. Sure enough this tentative version did just that.

I first saw it performed live on Sunday November 21 1971 at the Empire Pool Wembley – an extraordinary night. It was of course one of the stand out tracks on their just released fourth album.

It went to attain legendary status – the most played record on American radio and from 1975 the rightful finale to every Led Zeppelin live performance.

Like many of their songs the arrangement was often toyed with, not least by the singer who over time added many an ad - lib to the lyrics. As it was performed on every Led Zep show, this enabled the song to retain a freshness.

The first ad-lib I recall was when he inserted the line ''you are the children of the sun'' during the version to be heard on the classic bootleg Going To California from their performance in Berkeley on September 14 1971. From 1973 onwards 'Does anybody remember laughter?‘’ was an expected insert after the line ‘’and the forest will echo with laughter.’’

By 1975, Robert had changed the line ‘’your stairway’’ to ‘’our stairway’’ adding the line ‘’that’s all we got.’’ As I witnessed in awe from the side of the stage during their 1980 Over Europe performances , Robert added ‘’I keep chopin’ and changin'’’ as they led into the climax.

Post Zep, Robert has sang Stairway To Heaven’’ it a mere four times – at Live Aid in 1985, the Atlantic 40th anniversary show in 1988, a sweet truncated version with Jimmy Page in a TV studio in Japan in 1994 and at the Led Zeppelin O2 tribute concert for Ahmet Ertegun where he proclaimed after the song ‘’Ahmet we did it!’’

Well now he has done it again….

The obvious question is why now and why on this occasion?

There’s no doubt it was a special occasion being a concert staged by the ex - Duran Duran guitarist Andy Taylor. Andy has had serious cancer health issues and staged this concert in aid of Cancer Awareness Trust.

As well as performing on the night, Robert donated his personal gold disc of Led Zeppelin IV for the auction –as he put it ''our not so difficult fourth album.'' A part of this was featured on the video stream and it had clocked an initial £50,000 bid.“I love this music and I still love it now very much although I get a bit coy and shy when I have to go near it because it was such a long time ago,” he said.

In an interview with Led Zep News guitarist Kenwyn House revealed that Robert Plant chose to perform Stairway To Heaven after a wealthy donor agreed to donate a six-figure sum to charity if he did so.

So, a special occasion deems a special song for a very worthy cause.

It says everything for Robert’s ease with the Zep legacy, that he could perform this once millstone around his neck with such dignity.

As we know Stairway To Heaven became much maligned and a victim of much parody – and let’s not mention that farcical version by a disgraced not so all round entertainer.

Although he was quick to decry it in the immediate post Zep years, I happen to think Robert is rightly proud of the song, as he is the whole Zep legacy.

Who can forget his tearful reaction to the Wilson sisters and Jason’s performance at the Kennedy Honours in 2012?

So, with none of the pressure of performing it on a big stage and at a pressurised Zep related occasion, he was able to slot it in at this charity event with little fuss.

It worked majestically….

With an ad- hoc line up with few rehearsals, the arrangement was always going to be more loose than tight. That mattered little, as his vocal phrasing was absolutely spot on and what a joy it was to hear him sing this song with a calm control. Some subtle backing vocals aided the tranquil mood.

Here’s the thing – Robert Plant sang it as though he really meant it – confident in his skin at revisiting a major part of his past. Looking good with the mic off held in that familiar pose we know so well.

I wonder what was going through his mind? I know for me it prompted so many precious memories.

There were no ad-libs this time in what was out a fairly straight rendering – the guitar solo was neat and compact and they were back in for the grand finale. Here, Robert slowed things down and the key with it avoiding any strained vocals and he even sang the last section ‘’To be a rock and not to roll’’ for a second time – making it a unique arrangement. He did retain the ''our Stairway'' sentiment.

It was also unique for being the only time he has performed Stairway To Heaven without Jimmy Page...

The final ‘’and she’s buying’’ line was delivered with a delicate finesse – watching it prompted some instant flashbacks.

Momentarily I was back at Earls Court as the mirrorballs spun above them, back in that field just outside Stevenage when they came back to reclaim their crown (''so many people who've helped us over the years - no more people more important than yourselves who who came here on a blind date -this is for you all of yer'') and at home in 1985 watching the TV as the camera panned out to 90,00 watching them re group in Philadelphia for Live Aid.

I also thought about all the much missed friends and Zep comrades who are no longer around to enjoy this special moment...

All that was enough to prompt a huge lump in my throat and a tear in my eye.

Then Robert really sealed it.

Firstly he dedicated the performance to Andy:

“I know that in this contemporary age of digital stuff there’s every likelihood that other people will see that,” he said, facing Taylor. “So if they do, I offer it up to you and your success and to the whole deal that has happened here today and the future of it all.

And also so it’s not just that, I offer it up to Led Zeppelin, wherever they are”

Andy Taylor replied ‘’God bless ‘em there’s a lot of drummers in the sky we love.’’

Let's ponder on that statement...

''I offer this up to Led Zeppelin wherever they are''

It felt like he was giving the song back to his former bandmates and back to his audience – To the privileged few who were lucky enough to witness this special occasion and beyond that to countless fans like me and you.

Deep in the heart of the Cotswold's on an October Saturday evening Robert reclaimed a major part of his history and ours.

It’s likely he may never ever sing Stairway To Heaven this song again and if he doesn’t, it’s had a suitably poignant send off.

There was none of the pressure of the previous post Led Zep performances. It happened for a great cause and for a great fellow Midlands based musician.

I am aiming to be up in the Midlands in a few days’ time for the Saving Grace featuring Suzi Dian gig at the Birmingham Symphony Hall.

I am eagerly looking forward to it, not least after witnessing the YouTube video of this Andy Taylor tribute. For at 75 he is singing so brilliantly and his enjoyment as to where he is at in these advancing years is both inspiring and infectious.

Knowing that Robert Plant is at one with Led Zeppelin’s most famous song makes it all just a little bit more comforting.

As the song states ‘’If you listen very hard the tune will come to you at last’’

I’m still listening to Robert Plant intensely – as are countless others…

Dave Lewis - October 27 2023

[elvis1970s]

On May 29th, 1977, Elvis played the Baltimore Civic Center to an audience of just under 13 000. Like many shows from around this period, the truth has been somewhat obscured by slanted press reviews which have been uncritically rehashed in subsequent biographies. This show has earned some notoriety owing to Elvis leaving the stage for possibly as long as 30 minutes mid-show, leaving poor Charlie Hodge to lead the band through a series of introductions and solos in the face of increasing audience impatience.

Accounts vary as to what followed. One report suggested Elvis returned to the stage and completed the show in a 'desultory fashion', while another reported that 'he came back on like gangbusters'.

Interestingly, the unscheduled intermission didn't even rate a mention in the Baltimore Sun review, which offered the headline 'Presley Has the Old Magic Still', and described the show as 'intelligent and well-paced'.

"...Of course, by this time Elvis is virtually impervious to all criticism. The media have to buy tickets if they want to review him or take his picture, he doesn't need them (The Sun's photographer, who didn't have a ticket, was not allowed in the Civic Center.) He doesn't even have to sing. People come just to see him as they would visit a national monument...To the thousands who cheered him last night, he is a symbol of innocence tinged with just the right combination of sex, show business and country music. They don't know why exactly, but they still love him..."

The performance was preserved in an audience-recorded bootleg, and seems to be a generally solid show. Elvis tried his best to make amends following his absence, taking requests and making a big effort. Had he given the audience an extra 15 or 20 minutes beyond his usual stage time, he might just have got away with it.

(Review transcript thanks to Francesc Lopez at elvisconcerts.com)

[reggiejworkshop]

"The Record Store"

These types of stores are always a neat place to visit if you happen to have any interest in music. While they're probably not as easy to find nowadays since many prefer the digital route when it comes to getting music, they're definitely worth seeking out to take a look. You can find all sorts of records here. A rare cassette bootleg from an indie band, a out of print album that's only available on vinyl,  a famous album that managed to find its way in the bargain bin, or tons upon tons of one dollar soundtrack CDs that are usually ignored. But on top of finding different kinds of records in these stores, you can find all kinds of people too. Music lovers, casual browsers, music collectors, audiophiles, and sometimes musicians. And when you bring all these types together, you get all kinds of conversations too!

Record Collector: "I'm telling you, a Japanese import of this Cars album can go up ten times as much as this used one. The sound quality is amazing compared to this!" Casual Browser: "So I'd be dropping an extra grand just to hear less cracks and pops?" Max Goof: "...oh sure, and Powerline's my older brother!" Grunkle Stan: " No really, I know these guys. Let me tell you how I once got in a slugfest with Henry Rollins at Lollapalooza!" Phillip J Fry: Weird, I thought these things died out before I went to the future. ( looks around)  I am still in the future aren't I?" Wakko Warner: "Hey, Rumplestiltkin! Can I look at that when your done?" Groundskeeper Willie: "Ay. Sure thing, laddie. Just don't call me that again." Seller: "You sure you can't take em? Only half of these skip!" Record Store Guy: "Sir, we only take non warped records here. Begone, record warper!"

This is one of the places I always try to go to whenever I get the chance. One thing I love aside from drawing is collecting and listening to music. And most of my musical tastes were forged from the various finds that caught my attention within these stores. I don't visit these places that often nowadays, one because I rarely have the time, two it gets really expensive. You'd be surprised how much money you can end up burning through just from going through the bargain bin selections week after week. 

So I wanted to do a new crossover fanart piece that's loosely based on my experiences in visiting these stores. While I tend to go for a retro look in my artwork already, I decided to do something different by using a standard comic book color sheet. One that contains only 64 colors.  While I did end up doing a lot of extra color mixing further down line, I mainly kept with colors in the pallete, one so I would have less difficulty in choosing colors, but also so it would have more of an old school look.

Here's a link below to the various comic book color palletes if anyone is interest in trying that out. http://www.madformidcentury.com/2013/10/mid-century-color-palette-in-comics.html#.ZCujJXbMKM8

See how many characters you can spot here! And for a harder challenge, see how many album covers are here as well!

[kulturegroupie]

Robert Plant and Jimmy Page in Bombay, India, October 1972.

Following Zeppelin’s six-date tour of Japan, Page, Plant and Richard Cole set up camp in Bombay’s five-star Taj Mahal hotel – and duly played a gig. Their arrival in the country came at a time when Indian rock music was still in its infancy. There were several such bands in Bombay – chief among them being Atomic Forest, Human Bondage and Velvette Fogg – but they were almost wholly in thrall to Western imports.

The trip also marked the occasion when Robert and Jimmy, the latter armed with a state-of-the-art Stellavox qaudraphonic tape machine, recorded in the studio with a bunch of Indian classical musicians, arranged for them by Ravi Shankar disciple Vijay Raghav Rao. The result, the much-bootlegged The Bombay Sessions, yielded radically different versions of ‘Friends’ and ‘Four Sticks’, featuring sarangi, sitars and tablas. The ensemble was credited as the Bombay Symphony Orchestra, though Page was less than happy with the quality of the sessions themselves. Once back in England, according to Richard Cole, the Bombay tapes went into storage – though they would finally be released in 2015 as part of the deluxe reissue of Coda. 50 years on, nothing can deflect from the monumental cultural impact of Page and Plant’s visit.

[palmofafreezinghand]

Carlisle Cullen goes to his first-ever birthday party, on his two hundredth and eighty-second birthday. on ao3 here.

happy birthday @spanishinfluenza !!! here's a lil gift for the momentous occasion.

February 20, 1922: 

The hour-long drive home was far too long that evening. Work had been torturous. A seventy-two-hour shift had turned into a hundred-and-twenty-hour shift when Dr. Reynolds came down with a stomach bug fifteen minutes into shift change. 

Carlisle spent his two-hundredth and eighty-second birthday like all of his previous birthdays, in an operating room with people who knew nothing about him. 

It had rarely bothered him before, in fact, he always asked to work on the day. There was something about saving lives on the anniversary of the first, and only, time he had murdered someone. He couldn’t quite name it but he hoped, despite all odds, it would make her proud. The more selfish part of him knew this effort to spend the day serving others was entirely due to the fact he would spend the entire day wallowing if he didn’t have a distraction, innocent people on death’s door. 

It had been three days since he visited the hospital chapel on his lunch break; and, said his annual prayers, wishing her a peaceful rest, hoping for her reunion with her love, the man who made his life… who had done his best in the storm of unfathomable grief. Now Carlisle was sprinting home, his automobile ditched on a hidden dirt road, a crucial path in the local bootlegging society and a wonderful hiding place for a vampire annoyed with the prospect of traffic. 

Less than twenty minutes later, he found himself walking up the windy driveway to a once abandoned hunting lodge; hair windswept and looking utterly ridiculous, his scarf twisted around his neck like a kudzu vine, and holes worn in the soles of his shoes. He was gaining a ridiculous appreciation for the view he once thought nothing of. 

He was walking up the drive at a ‘human’ speed when a weight dropped onto his back, dropping from the branches above him. 

“Ah!” He exclaimed in what had to be the least convincing tone possible. The smell of honeysuckle, linseed oil, and charcoal shavings had given her away immediately. 

He could feel her sigh as much as he heard it, her chest heaving against his back. Soft arms hooked around his neck, thick thighs wrapping around his waist, his hands immediately catching them to keep her up, despite her attack. She pressed a kiss to his right cheek and slid off his back.  

“Hi,” she smiled up at him, dimples shining, when she took her place by his side, taking her hand in his.

“You look quite nice,” Carlisle said earnestly, taking in her outfit; well, taking her in. Her curls were piled up on her head in a structurally unsound bun, and a few messy curls were already falling out, framing her face. She was wearing a pink floral chiffon summer skirt and one of his green sweaters. 

She ducked her head away from his gaze and praise, he caught her chin with his index. “I like this sweater. Although, I don’t believe it’s yours.” 

That earned him a bashful smile. “It looks better on me,” she joked, although it was nothing but the truth.

“Can’t argue with that,” he grinned. The green complimented her hair, and her eyes looked especially gold, mimicking raw honey. He meant what he said, she looked quite nice. It was still slightly inconceivable she had ever chosen him, he figured it always would be. 

“You know you can kiss me you don’t have to just stand there and think about it,” she whispered, squeezing his hand slightly. 

Well, that was entirely inconceivable, but he’d be remiss to not at least try. 

“How do you know when I’m thinking of kissing you?” He asked when he pulled away from the said kiss, one hand cradling her jaw, the other wrapped around her left hand, the band of her engagement ring cold and reassuring against his skin. 

“You get this look in your eyes,” she said softly, her free hand gently resting against his chest. “I can’t explain it.” 

He smiled softly, brushing a curl off her forehead. “As if I can’t believe you’re real?” 

“Is that what it is?” She murmured, pulling him back for another kiss. 

“You need to go inside,” she said abruptly, pulling away from the kiss and him. 

“Oh?” He caught her hand, pulling her back to his chest. “Are you coming with me?” 

“No. Yes. But not like that. There’s something I need you to see inside.” 

“I like what I see now,” he said, hands moving to her waist, she instinctually leaned into the embrace despite her words.  

“Inside.” “I’m savoring the view,” he muttered into her temple as he peppered kisses across her face. 

“No, no savoring. Go inside,” she said, pointing towards the house as she attempted to break out of his arms, but he just squeezed tighter. “Edward is going to be late for class. Inside,” she pushed him towards the door, he let her move him a couple of feet but pretended to object. “Wait, I have to go in first.” 

“I won’t complain,” Carlisle said under his breath as Esme ran in front, the chiffon dress moving with every curve of her body. 

“I would like to remind you both, I am still here and can hear you, and your thoughts,” Edward grumbled from inside the house. 

Carlisle sent his mental apologies, desperately trying to think of anything but the view of Esme climbing the stairs before him. Thank the Lord gravity somehow still worked on them, and oh how did it work… baseball — baseball was an excellent sport — a chaste sport a wonderful thing to think about, absolutely nothing scandalous or traumatizing to a telepath about baseball. 

A palm hit his chest, at some point they had reached the foyer while he had been intently focused on… baseball. “Close your eyes,” Esme said, standing in front of the living room door, which was oddly closed. 

“Are you going to rob me?” 

“No,” she rolled her eyes. “Stop being difficult and close your eyes.” 

He reluctantly did as she said. She kissed his cheek quickly in thanks and then her footsteps scurried away. 

Eight seconds went by as he stood foolishly in the foyer. “Alright, you can come in!” Esme called from the living room. 

He tentatively opened the living room door to find the room dark, lit only by a random assortment of candles scattered around the room. Esme and Edward popped out from behind the settee at the same time, socks pulled over their hands. “Suprise!” They shouted in unison. 

He glanced around the room, strips of scrap fabric hung from the ceiling, Esme and Edward were both wearing paper cone hats, and tiny pieces of colored paper were strewn on the floor. 

“Yes, it certainly is,” he said, attempting a smile. ‘Edward, pray tell is this her new design style?’  

“It’s your birthday party,” Edward explained with a lopsided grin. The socks on his hands, which Carlisle now realized were puppets, nodded along.

His birthday party. They had thrown him a surprise birthday party. They found him worth celebrating. 

Esme’s gaze hadn’t left Carlisle’s face, anxiously waiting for his reaction or any reaction. It was not lost on him they had made a nice gesture and he responded with nothing. 

‘It’s not my birthday.’ 

“It was, but someone had to be almost three days late,” Edward said in a tone that sounded chiding but Carlisle knew he was joking by the hints of a signature smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Edward, be nice,” Esme chastised lovingly, although there was a note of that telltale anxiety in her voice. The relic of a life being told nothing she did was ever good enough. 

“No. He walks in here fifty hours late and complains about his surprise party because it’s ‘not his birthday.’” Edward grumbled, imitating Carlisle with an accent he had never had. “In fact, I think this party is over,” he huffed, standing up, giving Esme a kiss on the cheek, stomping past his piano, stopping for a brief second to bang out some notes, off pitch, at an irritating speed, ripping the handwritten sheet music off the piano and shoving it to Carlisle’s chest. “Happy birthday, you ungrateful bastard,” he said, a smile appeared for a brief moment before he managed to fake a frown. 

“Thank you,” Carlisle said, catching Edward’s hand. “I apologize I was late. I appreciate the party.” 

“I suppose it’s fine,” he sighed, eyes rolling, but a grin on his face. Carlisle returned the smile in full. “I really do have to go to school, though.” 

“Drive safe,” Esme said as Edward grabbed his bag off the hallway coat rack. 

“Never,” Edward laughed, already in the carport and starting the engine. 

Carlisle and Esme waited in silence until the purr of the engine could no longer be heard in the crisp morning breeze. Carlisle now had the time to fully take in the homemade decorations donning the room. He had missed the meticulously painted flowers taped to the walls and ceiling, in the same artistic style were different medical tools, his favorite books, and little doodles of snippets of his life. 

“I’ll clean this up,” Esme said quietly, breaking his focus. He glanced over to see her taking the sock puppets off her hands and the hat off her head. 

“Why?” 

“It was a stupid idea. Don’t worry I’ll take care of this,” she motioned to the decorations which must have taken hours. 

“You know,” he said, walking across the room to where she was knelled behind the settee sweeping up confetti. “I’ve never been to a birthday party but I believe they’re supposed to last longer than three minutes. I feel somewhat robbed.” 

“You’re not mad?” 

“No, not at all. Surprised is all.” 

“Well it is a surprise party,” Esme shrugged.  

“A successful one then,” he smiled taking a seat on the floor across from her. “It was your idea?” 

“Somewhat. Edward had noticed you were dreading your birthday, and we figured we might try to make the day…happier for you. I suggested a party, I suppose that was foolish.” 

“Not at all, Bunny,” Carlisle said, brushing the hair off her forehead. “The socks?” He asked, attempting to prove he was interested in her party, which he was. 

“They’re your guests,” she said excitedly. “We made puppets of your friends. This is Aro,” she held up a white sock she had attached long black yarn to the top of to act as hair, “and Siobhan, and Garrett, and Tanya. Of course, you have more friends but we only had four hands so some cuts needed to be made.” 

“I love it,” Carlisle laughed, holding up the Garrett puppet which bore a striking resemblance despite being a sock. “I love this all,” he motioned around the room. He picked up the discarded cone hat and placed it atop his head. “What now?” 

“Cake?” Esme asked, already heading towards the kitchen. There was no question in his mind he would choke down a piece of cake if it meant that smile stayed on her face. 

She reappeared holding a wooden box that had been painted like a cake. A lit tea candle balancing on the top. 

“Blow out the candle,” she said, holding the ‘cake’ in front of him. “Wait you have to make a wish.” 

“Oh, I wish for –” 

“No! In your head. You can’t tell anyone or it won’t come true,” she said passionately. 

“Apologies,” Carlisle said, attempting to match her sincerity but unable to hide his smile. It was difficult to fathom a wish when all his seemed to have been answered. 

“What did you wish for?” Esme asked the moment the flame was extinguished. 

“I wi—” 

“I just told you,” she sighed, placing the ‘cake’ on the ground. “You can’t tell anyone or it won’t come true.” 

“But you asked.” 

“I was testing you,” Esme said as if it was totally reasonable and clear as day. “And you failed.” 

“Will you ever forgive me?” He asked, tugging lightly at her arm to pull her down to where he was seated on the floor. 

“I suppose, you’re quite cute,” she laughed, letting him pull her into his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. 

“What do you say we leave this party early, Mrs. Cullen?” He whispered, pressing a kiss over the raised scars on her neck he had left a little over a year before.  

“You’re not having fun?” She asked, stiffening slightly in his arms.  

“On the contrary, I’m proposing we continue the fun,” he said, hands running up and down her back, a finger tracing her spine. “Unless you had other party activities planned?” 

“What kind of hostess would that make me? Sneaking off for a scandalous tawdry affair in the middle of a party,” Esme gasped, feigning objection although her hands were working swiftly to undo his necktie and top three buttons. 

“It’s not scandalous if it’s your husband.” 

She didn’t answer with another cunning remark but her lips spoke for themselves against his, hands working to untuck his shirt, and then undo his belt. 

“We don’t have to,” Carlisle said, pulling back. He had heard less than polite conversations in hospital break rooms about what wives felt compelled to do for birthdays, he wasn’t one of those husbands. 

“I want to.” 

It was a dance they were still learning the moves to but had yet to be anything but exhilarating. 

“Could we maybe… move the puppets?” Carlisle asked as he let Esme pull him down, multicolored confetti now stuck in caramel locks, her head inches away from puppets which felt suddenly alive. 

Esme glanced up to the sock puppets lying in a pile to the left of her head. A grin spread across her face as she moved the puppets. 

Less than a minute later Carlisle’s attention was interrupted by a humming of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” He looked up to find she had donned a sock puppet on either hand and was now singing at a more than inopportune moment. 

His laughter shook his entire frame, filling the entire room, he collapsed on top of her, and her own giggles followed soon after. They laughed for what seemed like hours, it didn’t matter how long it had been in reality, Carlisle’s birthday wish had been answered. 

A true moment of unadulterated, intoxicating happiness.

credit where credit is due! shoutout to @youareonlyastory for thinking of & requesting this & credit to @gisellelx for Carlisle's birthday being February 17 headcanon because him not knowing the date is absolutely ridiculous.

[letmewanderinyourgarden2022]

Jimmy carefully sorted the purchases from his trip to the Reading Record Fair that morning.  Ross had collected him at the crack of dawn to ensure they arrived prior to the official opening.  The main objective was to avoid the crowds but also to get the first choice of any rarities that were in the stacks.  He had been visiting the fairs for so many years that the proprietor, George, had become a fast friend, granting him and Ross some “special” access. Periodically, George kept something aside for his mate.  It was generally one or two vinyls that he knew Jimmy couldn’t refuse and almost always an obscure Zep bootleg. 

George never fails to come through with some gem. And Ross!! Absolutely gutted that it was put aside for me. Ha!  Maybe I’ll lend it out to him once he’s recovered. . .Seeing George always costs me a pretty fucking penny!

His hand skimmed the prize purchase of the day.  He had been searching for the bootleg for at least 30 years and was now the proud owner of the Vietnamese 1970 pressing of the band’s first album.  Delight overcame him as he held it. 

So few of these - may be the only one. . .

He recalled the album was pressed for the troops fighting in the South Asia war raging at that time.  He didn’t regret his sizable expenditure in the least.

The power of music. . . in this case, our music. . .will get you through just about anything. . .Well, let’s see what shape it’s in.

He placed the needle on the spinning record.  Good Times Bad Times sounded just fine.  As he lounged in his favorite chair, memories of the first momentous day – the beginning – darted through his mind, inseparable from the music.  He resisted the urge to find flaws and just listened, carried off into reveries of the past. Interrupted by a vibration in his pocket, he wrangled the mobile from his jean's pocket.  It was Perry.

“Hey, Jim.  I’m on my way to Tower if it’s a good time.  I’ve finally finished looking into Lady Jane.”

“Really!  It’s taken a bit longer than a fortnight, Perry,” he chided.

“You know, Jim, it was much harder than I expected – US holidays and all.”

“Yeah, it is that time of year.  Please, come on over.  I’m very interested in what you’ve found.”

Jimmy sighed, returning the vinyl to its sleeve and placing it in the stack with his other purchases - to be enjoyed later.    Climbing the stairs, he found what he was seeking on the library desk.  He pushed the intercom for Gwyn.

“Gwynie, Perry is on his way.  I’m in the library, okay. . . Great.  Thanks.”

Letter in hand, he settled in the soft leather chair by the blazing hearth.  His fingertips stroked the paper as they had done often over the months.  The same faint. . .he didn’t know what to call it. . .connection reached out to him. 

Well, well, Lady Jane, some mysteries are about to be revealed.

Footsteps sounded in the hall.  “Hey, Jim.  You ready?” Perry said as he entered. 

Still entranced, Jimmy was slow to register another presence in the room.  He finally looked up, giving his full attention to his assistant.  “That was quick. Thanks for coming over.  Please, sit,” nodding to the seat across from him.  “So, what's her story?”

“I was able to find out quite a bit, eventually. She’s definitely unique,” Perry said as he spread the contents of his messenger bag on the table between them.

Jimmy scoffed, “Well, that could mean any number of things!  Please, go on.”

He rattled off his discoveries from memory.  “She’s originally from Baltimore in Maryland and is about 10 years younger than you.”  He hesitated a second, glancing up to see if there would be a reaction.  There was none.  “She’s a solicitor who worked for Atlantic in the '70s – briefly it seems – and is now a partner in a law firm in Atlanta that represents artists – musicians mainly.”

“Hmmm.  In the business?” he said eyebrows raised.  He slid the letter onto the table and eased back, crossing his legs, “Doesn’t sound unstable to me.  What about to you?”

“Well, no, not really, but there’s more.” He chirped as he selected a yellow folder from the others splayed on the table.

“More?” Jimmy chuckled, shifting in the chair.

“Yes, like I said, she’s a bit unusual.” He scanned his notes. “She was accelerated in her studies as a child, and graduated from her law courses at a little shy of 19 – one of the youngest to do so and one of the few women at that age, so. . .”

“That’s rather impressive,” he said, rising to tend the fire.   

“Yeah, I think so, too. She passed her bar exams soon after and was a staff attorney for ATCO in New York, but only for a few months.  Then. . .nothing! Poof! She vanished for an extended time. . .well, almost. . . It appears she abandoned the law thing and traveled around for over 10 years.  She reappeared at Atlantic in an Atlanta satellite office in a similar capacity in the '80s.  She’s been a partner in a private law firm for about 20 years.  And. . .uh. . .It seems her parents were friends with Ahmet. Her father was a school-chum of his in Washington, DC, which may explain the Atlantic jobs.”

“Ahmet? No!”  Jimmy turned from the hearth in disbelief.  “Well, that’s certainly a bit close to home. . .  So, any clue about where she was during those missing years?” He slid back into the chair, elbows planted on the armrests, fingertips tented together at his chin, listening to the new details.

“I did find a bit of a trail,” he said, pulling another paper from the folder. “It seemed she left me a few breadcrumbs," he chuckled. "She traveled the across US, staying only, at most, for a couple of years in any one spot. It appears she settled in Costa Rica longer than any other place, though.”

“Hmmm. . .a nomadic spirit.  So, do you know her name – her real name, I mean? Married? Kids, that sort of thing?”

“Jane Elsinore Mott, two daughters, several grands, no marriage I could find.”

“And a free spirit to boot.”  He uttered, fingertips grazing his slightly pursed lips.

“Apparently. She’s a definite fan, too.  I found her on a few places online.  Same screen name.”

“So, any ideas about what she’s like from her online comments?”

“Doesn’t post very often, but always thoughtful.  Occasionally over the top, but rare – so far as I could find.”

“So, an intelligent, free-spirited woman - stable by all accounts- wants to meet me.” He sat up and edged forward. “Uhm. . .I know I’m going to sound like a git, Perry, but do you have a photo of her?”

“I did try, Jim, unfortunately, nothing recent. But. . .” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he removed a glossy square from the folder. “I did find one photo that appears to be her as a teenager. Here.”

Jimmy leaned forward and took the photo, studying it, expressionless. The hand dropped to his lap as he slumped against the chair back.  The pang in his chest from the studio suddenly returned.

What the fuck is that? Again! Bloody hell!

He sat up abruptly.

“You OK, Jim?” Perry rose in concern at the unexpected response from his friend.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Jimmy moved to the edge of the seat.  “Sit. . .please. . .Uh. . .Perry, is there any way I could have met this woman back then?  I mean - was she ever where the band was?”

“I really wouldn’t know if you met her somewhere on tour, Jim,” he said with a trace of friendly sarcasm. “But nothing seemed to match up with your or the band’s travels.”

“And not at Atlantic?”

“No, I checked.”

“Right, well.  I need to think a bit, Perry.  I’ll call you this evening.”

“Sure, Jim.” He rose and started to gather the items on the table.  “Just let me know what you want to do.”

“Uh, leave all that with me, yeah?”

“Of course, talk to you later.”

“Thanks again, mate.”

Jimmy studied the papers, reading all about her for himself – from the earliest bits to the most recent. He was coming to the realization there were just too many signs to ignore.  He spent most of the evening weighing what he wanted to do – if anything.  He tried to busy himself with other tasks, but his thoughts returned to her.

Jane Mott, I think I must meet you. . .but definitely not within my comfort zone at all - a fan one-on-one. . .privately. . .well, maybe just a brief chat if she's here in London. . .Is it risky to willingly open myself up this way. . .to a stranger?. . .do I want to. . .you already know the answer, Jim!  If for no other reason than to find out who she is and what she is.

He phoned Perry.

“Hi, sorry, it’s a bit late.  I want you to get in touch with her and find out if she’s going to be in England in the near future. . .Yeah, I’m sure. . .See what the possibilities are. You have her contact information, right. . .Good. . .But, wait until after the holidays, okay?  Maybe around Twelfth Night – US celebrations are over by then.  She’s probably going to tell you to fuck off, but be persistent. Yeah?  Thanks, Perry.”

Although it was late, Jimmy found his way to the studio.  He picked up the Harmony and rewound the tape.  After a bit, he strummed along adding color to his previous efforts.  He pushed “record” and let the tales of Lady Jane flow into the dynamics of the song.  

If we meet, I may have to play this for her.  But only after I apologize for mucking about so much in her private life.  Che Sera, Sera, Jane.

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

Chapter list

https://www.tumblr.com/letmewanderinyourgarden2022/701210499738714112/chapter-list-let-me-wander-in-your-garden?source=share

The Astrology (dining) room:  https://youtu.be/w6hEwcTXtaE                                                     

1970 Vietnamese pressing LZI - sleeve and vinyl

@firethatgrewsolow @foreverandadaydarling @laluxea @lzep @sassybouquetrunaway-universe @jimmysdragonsuit13 @jenyj89

[amari-3-18]

We Funk and Funky Poetic Bootlegs album cover t-shirts available now! $19.00 most sizes! Visit richardcolemusic.com to order!

Listen to We Funk (2 The Last Band) on your favorite streaming service. Funky Poetic Bootlegs album coming soon.

[arterrorist]

The traveling record shop has visited my town for this weekend, so it was good ol’ crate diggin’ time. Went there twice, just in case. As you can see on the second photo, it was a good idea :)

Here are my findings:

1. Echo and The Bunnymen „Crocodiles” I was lacking their debut in my collection, hence was more than happy to fill the gap. They are a bit raw yet here, but already at home with their style.

2. Gerry Mulligan „The age of steam”from ’71 shows him on a funkier side of things. It’s very, very good. Also he is in a good company here (incl.: Bud Shank, Bob Brookmeyer, Harry „Sweets” Edison, Joe Porcaro).

3. Astrud Gilberto/ Walter Wanderley „A certain smile, a certain sadness”. Astrud and Walter were both present at the birth of Bossa so it’s no surprise their pairing brought us fine, jazzy and classy album full of first rate Bossa Nova.

4. „Mingus Quintet meets Cat Anderson”. It’s a ’72 bootleg from Berlin (good quality) Two side-long tracks and mindblowing versality from all the musicians, they swing and fool around, effortlessly flow from dixie to avant (jungle-style muted horns extravaganza included). Brilliant stuff!

5. Nat „King” Cole and his trio „After midnight”, which is one of his most jazz records, when he sings and plays piano, with a really swingin’ backing band.

6. Dr. John, The Night Tripper „Remedies”. It captures The Good Doctor still deep in his New Orlean voodoo phase, which I love.

[sweetxvertigo]

2022 was… a year.

Putting this under a Read More because I wrote quite a bit haha.

I don't know if it was a good one or not. It definitely had a lot of ups and downs.

January 1st I went back to streaming 1st after taking about 6 months off due to burnout.

In February I had definitely the best birthday I've ever had though. I played an acoustic stream on twitch and a bunch of my close friends showed up at my house mid-stream with gifts + taco bell and it was just the absolute best. I don't know if any future birthday will surpass that. I'm so thankful that I have such incredible friends.

In March I quit my band of over 10 years. It was one of the hardest things I've had to do, but I did it for many reasons. I did it because I was frustrated with things within the band that I knew would never change. I did it because I wasn't totally feeling the direction we were going musically. And the big thing, was I wanted to try and really focus on getting my shit together this year. I really fumbled the ball on that last one. My last show was a really good time however. So many of my friends came out from different states and that I'd met playing music over the years which meant so fucking much to me. I was fully expecting to not be able to play the set without bawling my eyes out. Music has been my passion since I was 16, and giving up on it, even temporarily, was not an easy choice. I ended up being more angry during our set however because the sound person didn't route like any of my guitar through my in-ear monitors so I pretty much had to wing it. I wish I could have a do-over of that last show but oh well. A few days after that show a friend of like 7 years randomly messaged me telling me that we were no longer compatible as friends and then blocked me on all social media and to not contact them again. Definitely a kick in the teeth after an emotional weekend, but whatever.

In April I got to meet the singer of one of my favorite bands, The Wonder Years and show him my typography project based on their song Oldest Daughter which he thought was really cool. Ended up getting covid at that show, but thankfully it only felt like having a cold. I had a mild panic attack for a few days when I found out I had it AFTER making out with somebody and worrying that I gave it to them / their family, which it turned out I didn't somehow?

In May I went to my first concert since the pandemic started and it was to see The Menzingers, who are like a top 3 all time favorite band for me now. What a cathartic show it was to be able to scream along to their songs for over an hour.

The first day in June I woke up to the news that a friend, not one I was particularly close to but one that I enjoyed being around and got to bond over Coheed with a few years prior had passed away. It's so weird losing someone around the same age as you. I saw one of my best friends get married to the love of her life and got to celebrate it with all of my close friends. I went to a few more shows, mainly to see You Me And Everyone We Know.

I don't remember much about July. I remember being extremely stressed out about a lot of things. I did get to hang out with my friend from CT a few times which was cool though.

August was the last time I streamed until a one-off in September. I don't think I'll ever be the streamer I once was again, and that's fine. I broke things off with the person I was seeing. Oh and at the end of the month was when I made that bootleg MCR shirt that sold over 1100 copies? Wild.

In September I went up to NYC with a couple friends to visit one of my best friends from highschool that I haven't hung out with much in about 10 years. I went to my first burlesque show and got to see a really hot goth clown staple pages of the bible to her body. Went to at least another YMAEWK show, and obsessed over the new Wonder Years album.

Speaking of The Wonder Years, in October I got to see them and Fireworks twice. Some of the best shows I've ever been to, hands down. One of my favorite local musicians started releasing new music after like 7 years which was really awesome. I also got to take some cool engagement photos for a friend. At the end of the month I got to meet a bunch of cool online friends in person that I've grown closer to over the last year.

In November I got drunk for the first time at a friend's halloween party which was fun. The next day I got to see The Menzingers for the 2nd time this year, this time playing the album that got me into them in full and I got to be like 3rd row the entire set. I got to see a few of my friends play at the First Unitarian Church in Philly for the first which is so cool after seeing so many of my favorite bands there before. I ended the month seeing The Spill Canvas playing "No Really, I'm Fine" in its entirety which was such a wildly inspirational album to me back in the day.

And now we're in December. I started off the month by going up to CT for the weekend with my friend from NYC to visit another friend of ours we knew through twitch. We had a lot of soups that weekend. It was a good time. Had a friends Christmas get-together last week with was a lot of fun. I do feel bad that I couldn't get everyone gifts / didn't spend a lot but I'm glad that I got to see my friends and give most of them something. Honestly besides those things, this month flew by.

But here we are, less than 24 hours from 2023 and I don't feel any more accomplished than I did at the beginning of the year. I thought I was going to make moves this year and yet I couldn't get my brain to cooperate with me long enough to take the motivation I had to make any sort of strides towards reaching my goals. I've been super in my head this past week over stuff like that as well as other stupid things that have been sending my anxiety to wild levels. I did have a lot of good experiences this year though, along with the bad. I lost some friends, but I also gained some others. Maybe next year will be better over all.

[adultswim2021]

Aqua Teen Hunger Force #62: “Bart Oates” | December 3, 2006 – 10:30PM | S05E10

A perfectly respectable Aqua Teen episode. In it, Bart Oates, a real sports guy, shows up as a ghost (later revealed to be a robot) in order to get Carl on the straight and narrow. There’s not really much in the way of explaining why exactly this is happening, but it doesn’t matter. The episode is essentially a string of scenes where Bart Oates is trying to get Carl to undo some of his previous misdeeds, such as: giving money back to the band Chicago for selling bootleg Chicago shirts that said “Chicano” (Carl regularly employs the help of illegal immigrants to produce his bootlegs so they frequently come out misspelled), or making him visit the grave of a dude he killed with his car and fled the scene. 

Eventually Bart takes Carl to the home of Linda Hamilton for some delusional reason involving Bart Oates himself being a terminator style robot, and a lack of understanding that the Terminator movies are not real. They almost get in biiiiig trouble! 

This one has bits and imagery I found very memorable; the Chicago scene was maybe the one bit I actually had the most vivid memory of. The way they play a little horn sting after receiving their money is so funny. Other than that, this isn’t one of the stronger episodes, but it’s a fine time.

[whoisjaylamm]

A photo that shook the world of black metal. NEW EPISODE: Episode 35:  🎸 Øystein Aarseth’s decision to use an image of Per Ohlin’s tragic end as a bootleg album cover wasn’t just shocking—it was a haunting glimpse into the darkness surrounding the band Mayhem. This video delves into the chilling story behind the infamous “Dawn of the Black Hearts” cover, the unsettling rise of satanic crimes in the area, and the life of a band that thrived in chaos. Watch the full documentary now to uncover the twisted tale. Link in bio. 🎥 This is the thirty-fifith episode in a series of episodes that’ll drop every Saturday throughout 2024.  Visit the full video here: https://youtu.be/nikRTFu1pII Please share it with others if you enjoy it. Head over to my YouTube channel to watch (link in bio and description). Also linked in my stories.

[dvdregionseven]

Listening to to the bootleg of the Ginger Wildheart show I saw in 2001. Just after the world ended, ended up being a great time to visit the UK for one band and a week's walk around London.

200 people and every person knew all the words to all the songs and sang along at the top of their lungs. Everybody was still singing along (don't worry 'bout meeeeee) on the tube ride home.

I know I've posted about it before but that was my number 1 with a bullet live show and I like thinking about it! Avoiding getting a little puked on by Devin Townsend when he was doing two shows a night during the Physicist/SYL tour is a close #2.

[laocommunity]

Freddie Mercury's Secret Mongolian Anthem: The Unheard Story Behind the Lyrics

Freddie Mercury's Secret Mongolian Anthem: The Unheard Story Behind the Lyrics Freddie Mercury's Secret Mongolian Anthem: The Unheard Story Behind the Lyrics If you're a fan of the iconic British rock band Queen, you're probably familiar with their frontman Freddie Mercury's unparalleled vocal range and jaw-dropping performances. However, did you know that Freddie had an unreleased and unheard secret Mongolian anthem? In this article, we'll delve into the fascinating history behind this song and the man who inspired Freddie to write it. Who Was Freddie Mercury? Before we dive into the story behind Freddie Mercury's secret Mongolian anthem, let's touch upon the legend himself. Freddie Mercury, born Farrokh Bulsara in Tanzania, was a British musician, best known as the lead vocalist of the legendary rock band Queen. He was known for his vibrancy, eccentricity, and flamboyant fashion sense, reflected in his stage performances and fashion choices. The Unheard Story Behind Freddie Mercury's Secret Mongolian Anthem The story begins back in 1970, when Freddie Mercury met a man named Battulga, who was visiting London from Mongolia. Battulga was a young student at the time and had come to London to study the English language. He was playing some traditional Mongolian music on a recorder in Hyde Park when Freddie, who was walking by, was intrigued by the unfamiliar sound. As it turned out, Freddie was fascinated by Battulga's playing and asked him to teach him the instruments and the music. Battulga showed Freddie how to play a traditional Mongolian instrument called the Morin Khuur, which is a two-stringed fiddle made from horsehair and is one of the most important musical instruments in Mongolian culture. Over the next few months, Freddie and Battulga became great friends, spending countless hours jamming together and sharing stories of their cultures. It was during this time that Freddie wrote a secret Mongolian anthem inspired by Battulga's playing. The Inspiration Behind the Song Freddie was deeply inspired by Battulga's music and the stories he told him about Mongolia. The song was a tribute to the country's rich cultural heritage and the deep connections that bind people across borders and cultures. Although the song was never publicly released, it remains a testament to the strong bond between Freddie and Battulga. The Unheard Track The unheard track still remains a secret to this day, despite many rumors and speculations that it exists. Some fans have even claimed to have heard the song on underground bootlegs, but none of these claims have ever been substantiated. Conclusion In conclusion, Freddie Mercury's secret Mongolian anthem remains a hidden gem in the world of music. The song is a testament to the power of cross-cultural connections and the magic that can happen when people from different backgrounds come together through music. FAQs Q. Is it true that Freddie Mercury wrote a secret Mongolian anthem? A. Yes, it's true. Freddie Mercury was deeply inspired by the traditional Mongolian music of his friend Battulga, and he wrote a secret Mongolian anthem to pay tribute to the country's rich cultural heritage. Q. Has the song ever been released? A. No, the song has never been publicly released. Q. Is there any way to hear the song today? A. Unfortunately, the song remains a secret to this day. Although there are rumors that it exists, none of these claims have ever been substantiated. Q. What inspired Freddie Mercury to write the song? A. Freddie was deeply inspired by his friend Battulga's traditional Mongolian music and the stories he told him about Mongolia. The song was a tribute to the country's rich cultural heritage and the deep connections that bind people across borders and cultures. Q. Who was Battulga? A. Battulga was a young student from Mongolia who was studying the English language in London. He met Freddie Mercury in Hyde Park in 1970, and the two became great friends over their shared love of music. #ENTERTAINMENT Read the full article