#grease boot
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muddyoveralls90 · 5 months ago
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If you saw me in the street dressed like this, covered in grease, dripping with engine oil and stinking of diesel. What’s your next move?
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bratmobiler · 9 months ago
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HEY!!! HEY THEATRE KID!!!
tell me some of your musical theatre opinions!!! popular, unpopular, hot takes, headcanons, anything!!! i want to know!!
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kperea12 · 11 months ago
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Learning the Alphabet With Musicals
All images and video are not mine and belong to the original owners.
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slyandthefamilybook · 5 months ago
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2 years old vs brand new
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itsdappleagain · 2 years ago
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asjushusasadhshj we get to start rehearsing on the big stage on monday im so excited!!!!!!!!!
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nctjpeg · 1 year ago
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something i’ve been thinking about lately upon seeing and falling in love with a pair of $800 cowboy boots that i would wanna wear to the goth club
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hitchell-mope · 1 year ago
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More albums that I’ve recently added to my Spotify playlist.
Guys and dolls. 1950
Grease
Guys and dolls. 1955
Grease 2
Guys and dolls. 1992
An American in Paris. 1951.
Singing in the rain. 1952
An American in Paris. 2014.
Singing in the rain. 2012
Cabaret. 1966
Pretty woman
Cabaret. 1972
The lightning thief
Cabaret. 2021
Kinky boots. 2005
Tick tick boom
Kinky boots. 2013
La La land.
Kinky boots. 2016
Hannah Montana the movie
Sweeney Todd. 1979
Frankenstein.
Sweeney Todd. 2005
Young Frankenstein. Broadway
Sweeney Todd. Movie
Young Frankenstein. West end
Sweeney Todd. 2012
Tomorrow morning
Sweeney Todd. 2023.
Jersey boys. Broadway
Billy Elliot. Musical
Jersey boys. Movie.
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direwombat · 1 year ago
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been noodling on syb's herald au for funsies and it really is just "au syb was raised by her dad so now she's evil about it"
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heroichedgehammer · 2 years ago
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"I made a friend in almost every one of my favorite places. Great people can make anywhere special, huh?"
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muddyoveralls90 · 5 months ago
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totallytrucked · 8 months ago
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guys the costumes for the outsiders musical are pissing me offfffff
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teethsmoothie · 1 year ago
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god i hate being jobless and broke. i have no schedule my boredom drills all the way down into my bones AND i cant have a little pizza treat whenever i think about wanting one. or hold out til payday for it. because there is no payday
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writersdrug · 5 months ago
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Bartender Simon when a customer yells at reader for a mistake?
I love the way you guys think LOVE keep em comin!!
It starts when he's restocking his bar, carrying crates with fruit, bitters, coasters, and straws. He comes down from the pantry upstairs to a decently relaxed lunch crowd, when he hears the second half of the customer's tantrum.
"You expect me to eat this?! It's bloody raw!"
"I'm so sorry, I can take it back aga-"
"You already did that - went to the kitchen and stuck it under the warmer for a few seconds and thought I wouldn't notice, huh?"
"No sir, I gave it to the che-"
"I don't want to hear fucking excuses, just go fix my damn burger. I'm paying for this shit, aren't I? And you're working for my tip. So fucking work, cunt."
Humiliation isn't enough to describe what you feel - there isn't a strong enough word for it. Claiming you're a liar, saying you grovel for tips, yelling at you in front of your other tables, calling you a cunt - it makes your eyes sting with oncoming tears, staring at him and using every muscle in your jaw to keep from spitting insults back at him. You want to throw the food in his face, but instead, you grab his plate and storm off to the kitchen before he can see you cry.
The man scoffs, looking at his watch. "Fuckin' great..."
Simon's still standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding his crates and staring daggers at the man. He knows what it's like, being berated by customers. He says "that's customer service for ya" and moves on. But for this wanker to berate you - he sees red. He sees his next target.
He swiftly crosses the restaurant floor, boots thudding against the old wood as he drops his crate behind the bar. Soap's already yelling about the asshole when he pushes his way into the kitchen.
"Order it fuckin' rare and ye get fuckin' rare, bloody clipe- talkin' mince, bawface bastard-" he slams the burger back onto the grill with a tense arm, continuing to grumble as it sizzles. "Cookin' ye a nice strip o' shoe leather-"
You're sitting on an overturned crate, sobbing into your hands, pen and notepad on the ground beside you. Price is on one knee, one arm around your shoulder and the other on your leg - you'd never officially met the owner of the pub, but now was as good a time as any, you suppose.
"Wot happened?" Is all that Ghost could say without going off on a rampage. He's saving that for later.
"He fucking embarrassed me, that's what happened!!" You snap, looking up at Simon. Your eyes are red and puffy after only crying for a minute or two, cheeks wet from your tears. You hug your arms around your middle and choke on a sob. "Told me his fucking burger wasn't cooked, so I sent it back- then he tries to say I never even gave it to Soap?! Calls m-me a cunt in front of my tables?! Make me fucking work for his money - I don't want his goddamn money!!"
Price shushes you, worrying your anger might be leaking through the kitchen door - he doesn't want the same customer to hear you bad-mouthing him, although it's rightfully deserved. He rubs your back gently as you drop your head into your hands again, shoulders shaking as you cry.
Simon's seething - he's already moving before his brain can catch up, still stuck on the picture of your teary face. He marches behind the line and reaches across Soap, picking the burger right off the grill.
Soap makes a shocked sound. "Ye gone mad, LT?!"
"Table six?" Ghost asks, holding the sizzling burger patty in his hand, grease dripping onto his forearm.
You stare between his face and the patty - your crying stopped, your face now replaced with a stupefied expression. "Uh- yeah."
And like that, he's off; he shoves himself back out onto the floor and makes his way towards the customer who yelled at you. The burger burns his hand, but he doesn't even notice the pain. He drops it onto the table in front of the man, who yelps in disgust. "What the fuck-"
"Better?" Ghost says, hands clenching into fists at his sides as he looked down at the man, now stuttering and blubbering in shock. Specks of grease are freckling his white dress shirt.
"Are you- is this a fucking joke?"
"It's your fuckin' burger."
"I can't believe this-"
"Then get the fuck out my pub." Ghost growls; he grabs the man by his arm, ripping his blazer off the back of his chair, and drags him to the front door. The other customers look with wide eyes as he busts the door open with his shoulder and throws the man onto the sidewalk. He wheezes as he hits the ground, and Ghost throws his blazer at him next.
"If I ever see your face in 'ere after this, 'm throwin' you out again and keepin' your bullocks as a fuckin' souvenir."
The man stares at him, flabbergasted, as Ghost walks back inside. People are focused on their meals now, heads down and pretending they didn't see Simon body a man to the ground - the guy deserved it, after all.
Simon huffs, picking up the burger from the now-empty table. His hand stings a bit, but he has years of callouses built up to keep any real burns from settling in. He gently kicks the chair back into place and starts heading back to the kitchen, when he sees you.
You're staring at him with wide, wet eyes, standing in the entryway to the kitchen and mouth slightly ajar in awe. You've fully stopped crying, but there are still tears on your face from before. Eyeliner and mascara are smudged a bit, but it only makes Simon's fondness for you blossom.
He gently nudges your shoulder with his elbow as he pushes past you. "Take a fifteen. I'll watch your tables."
You stare after him as he throws the burger into the trash, grabbing a fresh towel and wrapping his hand. Wide back facing you as he looks at Soap, who stares at him with a frustrated sigh.
You're horny now. Horny for Simon - and you're definitely relaying this entire shebang to your friends tonight.
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lovebugism · 1 year ago
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how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy
a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 
Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 
Speaking of sweet…
His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.
Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.
He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.
“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.
Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”
“Did you sleep good?” 
“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”
“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”
Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”
Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”
“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”
He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”
“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”
“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.
“Get out of the kitchen!”
“What’d I do?”
“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”
“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”
You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.
The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”
Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”
Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”
“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”
“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”
“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.
“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”
Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.
“You’re welcome…”
Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.
“It’s different!”
The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.
“That’s not true!”
“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”
“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.
“Eddie,” you scold quietly.
The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.
“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”
Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 
“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”
“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”
“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”
You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.
The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.
“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.
You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”
“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”
“Eddie.”
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killerpancakeburger · 2 months ago
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What if the first time you saw Simon Riley's face was not a particularly solemn nor dignified moment?
Not in the middle of a raging battle, where you'd be pulling him out of the line of fire and ripping off his mask with urgency to check his breathing ?
Not at the end of a notably emotional conversation who took place after you two almost died— your survival only achieved because you had each other's backs. Him dragging his mask off so you could, at long last, lay eyes on the man that you owed so much to, and vice versa.
No, your first time is mundane, nonchalant. He had just come back from a particularly back-breaking mission and wished for nothing more than shed his gear and get some rest. Sitting on his bed, he's untiying his boots when you come in, with a smile and a tea, one that may or may not contain a dash of bourbon. You settle down on the chair by his desk and tell him about all he missed while away— what shenanigans Johnny and Kyle have been up to, Price and Laswell's latest disagreement, how stupid was that high-ranked officer you had to deal with the other day.
This setting feels so domestic, familiar, solid, that his mask comes off naturally, before he can think twice about it.
Your chatter suddenly comes to an end as your eyes widen in shock. The silence that replaces it is thick with uncertainty.
Simon's wary of your reaction, yet curiousity nags him— some sort of morbid fascination?
He designed multiple scenarios in mind for the ways you'd react, based on what he's been through before, but somehow none of them emcompassed this.
You laugh. Gleeful, warm, sincere.
"Panda," you manage to say among chuckles. "You're a panda."
He frowns in incomprehension until you reach out, your thumb stroking the tender skin beneath his eye and coming back covered in black grease.
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josephquinnswhore · 8 months ago
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disarmed - joel miller x female reader.
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Summary: you’ve been travelling with Joel for months, harbouring feelings for one another. Tommy helps the two of them realise how they feel.
Word Count: 5.6k
Warnings: mutual pining, fluff, mentioned a few times that joel is still grieving Sarah, jealousy, possession, age gap. Joel is in his forties and reader mid-twenties. Post outbreak fic. Reader had some dirty thoughts about joel.
Note: I’ve been awol for three months. Hello friends!! @katiexpunk Part two > testament to you.
"Ain’t gonna give up on me are ya?"
Joel calls out, checking over his shoulder to see if you're still behind him. You two have been travelling for hours, with the crunch of your boots against the snow that began to fall on the previous evening—the first official day of winter. They needed to reach Jackson before a mound of snow covered the area, or otherwise they would never know how long they would be there in this endless stretch of open space. With the possibilities of being stuck in a snowstorm, it dawned on them; the pressure to get to their destination.
Joel's crooked, uneven, scowling facade did nothing to keep you out or to halt your innate desire to preserve yourself by desperately attempting to make a connection with him, but for some reason, you had managed to accomplish what no one else could.
Make him feel affection, which of course, came with the pure unbridled fear at the thought of something happening to you. A fear he had not felt since..
“Not long to go now,” he murmurs, trying not to think about his past, his voice softening as he waits for you to catch up, he can see you are making the effort to keep up, your legs picking up their stride in an attempt to match his pace. Even so, at this rate they wouldn’t make it to Jackson before nightfall.
The weary look you give does nothing to comfort him either, internally, he cant stop any thought about you, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you were feeling, other than the pure exhaustion he could feel radiating from your pained expression and lame movements.
They were nearly at Jackson, to Tommy, after months of travelling and struggling for food, fighting against raiders and infected, Joel had made it his personal mission to keep you safe, to get you to Jackson. They had to make it today, before the sun fell, they were struggling for rations, between them, they had a can of baked beans left, two decades old and barely edible, it's clear to Joel that you’re losing hope.
“I know, not long, right?” You manage to reply after a few moments of thinking to yourself. The two of you had been surviving on scraps for weeks, you couldn't remember what it was like to eat a proper meal. For your stomach not to grumble and ache in hunger.
“When we get to Jackson they’ll have a bed for us, a real bed, probably a proper shower too, an’ food. Somethin’ for us to look forward to.” He glances your way, attempting to lift your spirits.
A crack of a smile stretches your lips, thinking about hot water, a real warm meal. “I don't remember the last time I had a real shower.”
“You’ll be able to finally wash that grease out of your hair too,” he mutters under his breath with a cheeky grin. He could only wonder how bad the two of them must smell at this point. Hes probably grown accustomed to the smell of his own putrid stench. A mix of grease, gunpowder, blood, dirt and body odour. You never complained though.
“Like you can talk, the stench coming from you is foul, old man.” A playful jest comes from you, one that makes joel smile, before feigning offence, he brings his hand to his chest as he scoffs. “Like you're any better.”
His lips turn into a genuine smile as the two of them share a light hearted moment, something that feels like it had been weeks since had happened – he can't help but admit to himself that.. it feels nice. That he enjoys seeing this side of you, that he could be the one to make you happy.
The playful smile on your face slowly slips into the same tight line it had been for weeks on end. The monotonous expression Joel had become so accustomed to.
“Whats on your mind? Somethin’ botherin’ you?” Joel asked, sensing that something was off with you.
“Hm? Oh, no I'm good, just get stuck in my head sometimes I guess.” You manage to excuse yourself.
He knew very well what that was like, he himself spent a lot of time stuck in his head, they were more alike than he had anticipated. “That’s alright, I understand.” He reassures her.
You can't help the way you feel something for him, noting the way his hazel eyes always softened when he looked at you, his voice soft. But the constant fear nagged you, about the age gap, he was in his forties, and you only in your mid twenties. Did he see you as a kid? Did he see you as a woman?
Joel always tried to remind himself that you weren't a little girl, even with the evident age gap between the two, he still saw you as a capable, beautiful woman. He couldn't deny the way he felt when he was the one to make you laugh, those beautiful eyes of yours and how expressive they were. He couldn't deny he felt something for you, which puzzled him, it was a feeling he thought he would never experience.
The snow begins to fall heavier, and with how long they had to go to Jackson, Joel knew it would be best if they stopped for the night, to try and find some shelter for them, for her. As if an otherworldly god hears their thoughts, a small cabin comes into the near distance. You hope wordlessly that Joel would offer to stop for the evening. If not, begrudgingly for a few hours, at least.
He motions for you to follow him, in the direction of the cabin. “That looks like a safe place to camp for the night, whaddya think?” To Joel, this was an easy decision, he was tired of seeing you shiver when you camped outside, clutching to the sleeping bag for a sliver of warmth, the thin material never did much to sooth your chattering teeth. He doesn't want you sleeping outside ever again, if he had any say over the matter.
“You think it’s safe?” Your eyes scan the area, it looks abandoned.
Joel nods as he cracks open the door, scowling as the door creaks open loudly. He leads the way inside the empty cabin, he does a quick scan of the place before he steps inside, out of the snow. Its a fraction warmer inside, something you can appreciate as you close the door behind you.
“Stay close.” He whispers, keeping an eye out, the cabin was clear after searching for a few minutes, it’s a small area, a broken lounge in the same living space as the kitchen. The floorboards in the corner are starting to rot due to a leak in the roof, some of the snow falling through to the inside of the cabin. “Looks like we're all good in here, I’ll look around and see what I can find, we’ll sleep here for the evenin’.”
You shrug off the heavy pack that had been clinging in the same sore spot for hours on end, shoulders aching dully as you roll them, reaching your hands back to massage the sore spots. Your fingers are cold and stiff as you unclip your sleeping bag from your pack, setting it up in the small kitchen area, away from the corner that has a small leak in the roof.
“This place ain't so bad, better than most places we been sleepin’.” Before Joel can relax, he eyes a bookcase, it's large enough to cover the front door, with one push it topples over, with a grunt, the bookshelf falls securely over the front door, keeping them safe inside.
You look around a little in the kitchen, seeing some old trinkets covered in a thick layer of dust, a windchime, it creates a beautiful twinkle as your fingers caress the cold material, clanging against each other. Going through the draws, you have a look at a faded image, picking it up to inspect it, your heart drops, the image depicts a young family, two parents and a small baby, all smiling into the camera, in this very kitchen where you stood now.
You can’t help but wonder how long ago they resided here. If they were still alive.
“Must’ve been a family’s cabin…” His eyes glance at the photo as he leans down to rummage through the cupboards, finding a few cans of veggies that had been left behind, he sets it down on the bench next to you. “We made out pretty good on food this time. Are you hungry?”
Shakily, you return the photo back to where you found it. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
“You okay?” He asks, sensing the uneasiness in your voice. He grabs the tin cans of food and skillfully pops the lids open with his knife, handing a can of food to her. He nods towards their sleeping bags and they both sit down on the floor, he can't ignore the ache in his back and knees as he stretches his legs out on the floor. He tried not to think about it, sitting here with you on the hardwood floors eating out of a two decade old can of veggies was nothing worth complaining about, compared to the hell you two had endured over the months.
They were together at least. They made it this far.
“Yeah, I guess. Just doesn't get easier, you know? Thinking about it. They had a baby.” Hesitantly, you start eating with Joel, who seems silent.
He eventually nods in agreement. “Not everyone makes it.” He speaks quietly, even after all this time, he still mourns, he's been reminded of his loss time and time again, the image of the family was no exception.
They eat in silence, and you set the empty can beside your sleeping bag, sighing as you snuggle into the little warmth it provides. “Try and get some rest, we’ll head out at first light.”
“Goodnight Joel.”
He watches you settle, a small grunt escapes him as he keeps his rifle close, he leans against the wall. “Goodnight darlin’.”
“I'm sorry about your daughter Joel.” You whisper, before sparing him a glance and rolling over away from him. Joel watched you, the words pierce him, memories of his daughter haunt him, but he can't blame you. “Yeah, me too.” He mutters under his breath.
Joel stays awake, he's too restless to sleep at the thought of Sarah, losing her, relieving the pain and anguish of twenty years without her. Yet, the pain was as palpable as it was the night it happened.
The sun rises, and Joel rolls his sleeping bag, clipping it onto his pack. He notices you stirring awake. “Mornin’.” He grumbles tiredly. He stretches his neck, a loud crunch fills the air. “We should get goin’. I want to get to Jackson before midday.” He groaned as he stood, his knees clicking into place, worn and aching, the cold didn't help.
You wipe the sleep from your eye and pack the sleeping bag up quickly, not wanting to make Joel wait, he seemed pretty restless. Joel shoves the bookshelf off the door, opening it and takes a weary step outside into the daylight. He couldn't wait to see Tommy, he couldn't stop thinking about a shower, and a decent meal. They had been surviving in the wilderness for so long, Joel wasn't sure what he would do being back in civilization.
You pause in the doorway, watching Joel walk outside, his worn boots crunching in the fresh snow. “Just.. just wait a sec.” You wearily call out to him, looking back inside the cabin.
“What is it?” Joel asked, stopping in his tracks, turning to look back at you, a confused look on his face. You take a few quickened steps back into the cabin, pulling the drawer out to find the photograph of the family, before rushing outside to meet Joel. “Someone should remember them.”
Joel looks between you and the cabin, wondering what on earth you were doing. “Whaddya mean?” He asked, his voice gruff and full of confusion. He stands there for what felt like forever, watching as you return with the faded photograph in your hand. He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.
You shove the photograph into the back pocket of your jeans. “Ready to go?”
Joel looks at you, a serious expression on his weathered face. “Yeah.” He motions for you to continue walking, he tries to push behind the thought of the family as they walk from the cabin. For some reason, there was a warmth in his chest, at your actions, something so miniscule could show the kind of person you were. Perhaps not all hope was lost with someone so compassionate like you left in the world.
It was relatively quiet between the two of you for the rest of the trip, only a few miles, the snowfall had come to a halt overnight, so the snow wasn't much of an obstacle, being so far away from any town, there were near to no infected, nor other people.
Finally, ahead, there it was. They had finally made it to Jackson, to Tommy.
“Shit. This is Jackson?” You ask in wonder, taking in the heavily fortified walls, the men patrolling on the walls with rifles. A haven.
“Sure as hell looks like it.” Joel felt himself finally relax, for the first time in months, even if only for a moment, they had made it. “C’mon, we can get inside before the snow starts comin’ down again.” He picks up his pace towards the gate.
“Are you sure they'll let us in?” You knew Tommy was here, but the anxiety of being turned away was palpable. Joel glances back, reassuring you with a small smile. “Dont worry darlin’, Tommy knows we’re comin’.”
The gates open, and the hinges whine in protest.
“Joel, you ugly bastard is it really you?” A southern voice calls out, as the gate opens, and you watch as a man embraces Joel, similar in looks, if anything, less grey hair. “The hell took you so long?” The man asked, a joyous tone in his voice as he embraced Joel.
“Yeah, were not easy but we made it.” Joel huffed out a laugh. Tommy waves his hand, a brief gesture for the pair to follow him inside. Tommy looks over Joel’s shoulder as they walk. “Who’s this?”
You stand behind Joel, a meek smile on your lips as you introduce yourself. Tommy smirks at Joel. Joel's face reddened, his younger brother’s stare made him heat up.
“Just get us set up Tommy.” Joel muttered, avoiding the amused gaze from his brother. Tommy’s wolfish grin doesn't slip. “Sure thing, follow me.”
The odd interaction does not go missed as you watch the pair, following them to a house that Tommy had organised specifically for Joel. Tommy lets them into the house to look around and Joel speaks up. “We've been out in the wild for a long while, and we're happy to finally be able to settle down for a bit.” Joel explains, looking at Tommy.
“I can imagine. Well, i'll leave ya alone to settle in for now. Were havin’ a get together later tonight at the hall, you should come. It’ll be good for you to spend some time away from each other for a bit.” Tommy jests.
You look between the two men, confused. “So where am I going to be staying?” You knew that Joel would probably want to be away from you, now that he had done his part in bringing you here safely.
Joel's head snapped in your direction and he stared at you for a moment. “With me.” He said, a little too quickly. “You'll be staying with me, here.” Joel’s eyes dart back to Tommy as if he was warning him against some smart arsed response. He looked a little embarrassed.
It didn't take an idiot to notice the glance you and Joel shared. Tommy smiled ear to ear as he watched the interaction between you two. “Alright.. Well you two can get settled here. Holler at me if you need anything, alright?”
As Joel nods, Tommy steps outside the house, leaving the pair alone again. Setting your pack down, you admire the house. “Nice place..”
Joel hums, nodding in agreement, setting his pack down next to your own. “Its alot nicer than where we've been campin’. And there's electricity.” Looking at the light Tommy had flickered on when he walked in.
“You mean we can shower?” Joel grins in amusement at your sudden excitement. “Hot water and all princess, why don't you go on and have the first shower?” The bathroom itself was simple, but it felt surreal to have electricity and running water.
“Are you sure?” Joel nods, “I can wait, its all yours.”
Joel closes the bathroom door behind you, and explores the bedroom, ruffling through the closet as he decides what to wear to this stupid get together tonight.
The hot water feels incredible, soothing the aches in your body, as you lather the vanilla scented soap, spreading the suds to wash the grime off your body. The colour of the water that runs down the drain is appalling, dark brown from grease and dirt. The shampoo is fruity, and a divine smelling scent you hadn't ever smelt in your lifetime. Lathering the clear concoction, you take your time to scrub the grease and disgusting things that stick to your strands of hair and scalp.
Its almost painful to shut the water off, but you know that Joel deserves to experience the hot water too, stepping out, you run your hand over the fogged up mirror, and hardly recognise yourself.
You slip on the clothes that had been provided for you, dark wash jeans and a long sleeved, tight fitting brown shirt. It accentuates your body shape wonderfully.
You look like a brand new woman as you emerge into the bedroom seeing Joel sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey.”
Joel looks up at you, his eyes widening as he takes in your form. You were even more beautiful than before, you looked radiant. He quickly stood, clearing his throat and he tried to keep his composure. “Hey darlin’.” He manages to utter out, his voice a little low.
Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze, hazel eyes roaming your body. “You gonna have a shower before we go?”
Joel glances down at himself, he now looked completely filthy compared to her, realisation sinking in.
“Y-yeah I think I will.. I can wash up in a minute.” As he looks back up at you, he notices your lingering gaze on him.
Were you checking him out too?
The tension is broken as Joel walks to the bathroom, taking his turn for the shower. Your mind wonders as the water runs, wondering what Joel looks like under all those clothes, if the hairs on his chest travel all the way down his torso, wondering if his tanned skin is the same delicious colour all over. A soft groan echos through the bathroom, gartering your attention, ears perking at the wonderfully intimate noise.
Something inside of you tingles in excitement at the thought, it's a hard thought to squash as you put your boots on. Joel's hair was damp, slicked back, the greying strands on his temple looked lighter than ever. The green and red flannel shirt hugged his torso and arms snugly, the jeans looked a size too small, clinging to his thick muscular thighs. His hazel eyes stared down at you as you looked him over, admiring him, he cant quite read the expression on your face.
Now it was your turn to play it cool, clearing your throat. “Ready to go?” Joel was still trying to come out of his haze as he stared at you, still trying to process the way you were checking him out. “Y-yeah…” He muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, let's.. Let's go..”
The hall is set up nicely, small bulbs hang from the ceiling emit a full yellow hue, there's an old record player, with vinyls underneath the bench it’s set up on, the melody of an old song echos through the hall as they walk in together, they gain some looks, from people dancing, young and old. Joel is brought into another hug by Tommy as he greets them. “Hey, look at you!” Tommy grinned. “You clean up nice.”
You silently agree, Joel looked as handsome as ever.
Joel's face runs hot as he hears Tommy’s tease, turning a rosy pink across his cheeks. He quickly brushed it off, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to maintain his composure. “Shut it, Tommy…” Joel muttered. Tommy grinned as he watched his brother's reaction, his eyes then shifting to you. “And you… look beautiful tonight.”
Joel watches your reaction to his brother's compliment, seeing you squirm a little. “Thanks Tommy. So… what exactly is this?”
Tommys grin remained as he motioned for you both to follow. “It's a get together, we do them to blow off a little bit of steam every once in a while, you know how it is.” Joel grunts in annoyance, not enthralled by the idea of being social, nor in the judgemental gaze of the community folk.
Your eyes follow the couples as they dance to the music. A sense of yearning overcomes you, wishing it were you and Joel dancing so intimately. It's something Tommy notices.
“What, you want to dance, girl?” He asked, a mischievous grin on his lips. Joel's eyes widened as he tried to get his attention. “Tommy…” He muttered in warning, his voice a low grumble.
You didn't decline tommys suggestion. “You offerin’?” Perhaps, if anything, you would be lucky enough to make Joel jealous.
Tommy nods, taking you by the hand as he drags you to the makeshift dance floor, away from Joel. “Of course.”
Joel could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside him. He wouldn't admit that he was starting to become jealous at the sight of his brother dancing with you.
You and Tommy dance, occasionally sneaking glances at Joel, who still looked unimpressed by the situation. Tommy laughs whenever he sees Joel’s scowling face, enjoying winding his brother up. Tommy took his turn to tease you. “So… what's it like travelling with my grumpy ass brother?”
“He's not grumpy with me.” You answer simply. This, Tommy raises a brow at. “Oh really?” He glanced over her shoulder at his brother, who was now glowering at the pair. “Looks real grumpy to me..” He teased, letting out a small chuckle.
“Only cause you're pickin’ on him.” You counter.
“You're probably right.” It wasn't uncommon for Tommy to tease his older brother like this, the more he saw how annoyed Joel was becoming, the more he wanted to keep this up.
“I like him, alot.” You murmur between the two of you. Tommy’s teasing expression dies down, shifting to an expression of empathy. He was quiet in thought for a moment before he spoke. “I can tell…” he glances at joel. “He's got it bad for you too.”
“Thats a lie if I’ve ever heard it, Tommy Miller.” You scoff.
Tommy’s brows furrowed a little as he scoffs as your disbelief.”You can't seriously tell me you're that naive, it's obvious he likes you, girl.” Joel's gaze darkens, eyes fixated on them from across the hall.
“He doesn’t like me.”
“Have you seen the look on his face? He's got this…” Tommy gestured to his own face. “...stupid look on his face since we've been dancin’. And he's lookin’ like hes seconds away from murderin’ me.”
You shrug. “He's just protective of me.”
“And how do you two interact?” Tommy asked. “Like, he dont seem too fond of me touchin’ you.” Joel's eyes flicker down to the way his younger brother's hand held your waist.
“I’m guessin’ you got some kind of plan, then, to prove me wrong?”
Tommy’s face lit up when you say this. “What do you think, girl? Are you up for it?”
A groan leaves your lips. “What’re you thinkin’?”
Tommy smirks, gently and suddenly twirls you, bringing you flush to his chest, the action makes Joel scowl. “We’re gonna piss him off just enough for him to come over. Sound good?”
You don’t miss Joel's reaction, maybe it did mean something..
“Okay, let's see what you got.”
Tommy grins, he pulls you close to him, dipping his head down to your ear, whispering. “You tell me if he gets too annoyed for yer likin’... I don’t wanna cross no boundaries.”
Tommy is an impressive dancer, you admit, and as nice as it is to be spun around the dance floor, your mind wonders what it would be like to dance with Joel, how he would hold you, where he would place his hands, how firm his grip would be.
Tommy dips you, making sure to keep a tight grip around your waist, and his body as close to yours as he could manage without dropping you, Tommy leans in, his nose close to yours. “Bit dramatic don't you think?” You mutter, eyeing tommy. There was a chance Joel would kill Tommy for this, and Tommy leans in, as if he was intent on kissing you.
That was it for Joel, he reached his breaking point, watching as his younger brother's actions grew more bold and more suggestive. As soon as he saw how close you two were, how intimate that moment looked, he pushed his way through the dancefloor, barging people that were dancing to get to them. Tommy’s plan seemed to work, getting the reactive reaction out of Joel, your eyes widened as Tommy straightens you up, the older Miller brother approached them.
“Now you've done it.” You mumble.
“Oh no, what have I done?” Tommy teases. Before he could say anything else.. Joel yanks Tommy’s shoulder, separating him from you.
Joel lets out a low growl, pushing Tommy further away from you. “What’re you tryna pull, Tommy?”
“Whoa, whoa.” Tommy protests, shrugging his shoulder out of Joel's grasp. “I’m not pullin�� nothin’. I was dancin’ with the girl, is that a crime?” Joel grits his teeth together, trying to stop himself from punching his own brother.
“He wasn't doing anything Joel.” You murmur softly, trying to calm the man down, but it seems to only agitate Joel that you seemed to defend Tommy’s actions.
His nostrils flare as he looks at you. “You're takin’ his side then?”
“Hey, come on, it ain't like that.”
His irritation grows, did you really think this was okay? That this was just friendly dancing? “You really think he was just dancin’?” He mocked.
Your brows furrow as you sense Joel’s rising irritation towards you, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. “Yes, that's exactly what I think.”
Joel lets out an annoyed huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest, this was not going the way he wanted. “He was all up on you and you think this is innocent? You’re more naive than I thought.” He sneers, a low grumble leaving his lips.
It hurts, hearing Joel talk to you like this, and you shove past them before he can see the tears welling in your eyes. Tommy stops Joel from chasing after you.
Joel lets out an annoyed huff, turning to look at him. “Get outta the way, Tommy.”
“She likes you, Joel.” Tommy said, his hand not leaving his older brother's chest, needing him to listen.
Joel rolls his eyes, not believing that statement for a moment. “No, she doesn’t. She was just humouring you.” He tries to push past Tommy again.
“It was my idea joel. I thought if I turned up the heat a little you'd show her you're sweet on her.”
“...what?” Joel's face flushed pink hearing that. “You.. you were just trying to…” When he realised that this little stunt was all an attempt to show that they liked each other, it surprised him, was it so obvious?
“You know I wouldn't dream of makin’ a move on yer girl. Go on now, get her and tell her how you feel before she runs off on ya.”
Joel stares at his brother for a moment as his words sank in. Once it did, he nodded, understanding now that this was an attempt to try and make Joel admit his feelings for you. He didn't say another word as he turned out of the hall, rushing back to the home where he knew you would be.
You felt humiliated by the entire thing, by Joel being angry at you, he had never looked at you with that look of unbridled anger. It was always directed towards other people, the ones that had tried to hurt you. Never you.
Joel’s footsteps are heavy, easily recognisable to you. As he makes his way to you, where you’re packing your things into your pack, tears streaming down your swollen cheeks.
He calls your name, and you don’t respond, shoving things angrily into your pack, you know he’s at the bedroom door, watching you.
His heart sinks as he watches you, he steps closer to you, reaching his hand out to touch your shoulder, in an attempt to stop you. “Stop.” He muttered softly. “Stop packin’ yer things.”
When you don’t listen, Joel takes the pack from your hand and tosses it across the room, your possessions all spilling out into the wooden floor. “What the hell is your problem?” You snap.
“Would you just stop it?” He exclaims, frustration evident in his tone. He grabs your arm, firmly enough to garner your attention. Spinning you to look at him. “Why are you doin’ this?”
“You humiliated me!” You quip, voice trembling.
He exhaled, the warmth of his breath fans on your cheeks. “Listen..” he muttered. “Whatever you thought happened, it was the complete opposite. Tommy told me the whole plan, he was.. tryin’ to make me admit somethin’ to myself.. to you.”
Your cheeks warm as you realise Tommy snitched. “..oh.”
His large hands reach out to cup your face, turning your face upright, so your gaze would meet his own. “I care about you a lot…” he spoke after a moment, his expression softening. “I know I’m not real good at showin’ it, but I really..”
“I really do like you, darlin’.”
You sputter a response. “Tommy.. was right?”
Joel nods, his expression growing bashful as he tries to hide his embarrassment with a small snort. “Yeah.. stupid bastard was right.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to stumble over his words. “Have done since I saved ya all them months ago.” He confessed.
His hand runs through his hair again, something you’ve picked up as an anxious tick of his. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
It was a question Joel hadn’t really thought of himself, until now. “It’s hard for me to be vulnerable..” he admits. “I’m just… not really like that.”
It certainly wasn’t the first time he had trouble opening up about his feelings, but he wanted you to understand that he wanted to try, with you.
“Especially with.. the way the world is now.. I thought I shouldn’t get myself tied up in somethin’ that could just get me hurt later.”
The words that went unspoken, you understood. He was afraid of losing you. And suddenly, her eyes softened. “What changed? Seein’ me with Tommy?”
It was an embarrassing truth, one that he had to face. “Yeah..” he agreed, glancing away from you a moment. “It felt like someone was just punchin’ me in the guts. Seein’ you dancin’ with him I felt..” he groans. “Jealous.”
Unintentionally, you bat your lashes at him. “I was so convinced you wouldn’t like me, I made such a fool of myself.”
His brows scrunch together as he realises how his actions made you feel. He gently takes your face in his large hands, his thumb rubs your cheek in a soothing motion.
“Hey, you didn’t do any of that…” he murmured. “If anything I shoulda told ya ages ago.”
With his reassurance, you wrap your arms around his midsection, fisting the soft material of his flannel on his back. He doesn’t resist, although he relaxes from his tense stance, bringing his own arms around you. “How about we start over an’ I’ll do this proper?”
Your eyes widen, looking up at him. “Proper?”
He couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto his lips, your words make his heart flutter. “Y’know.. with you as my girl…” he murmurs nervously. “If.. if you’d like that?”
“I would like that.” You accept without hesitation, your voice soft as Joel leans his chin on your head, his thumb caressing your cheek.
“Don’t ever try an’ run off again. I’ll hog tie ya to the bed if I have ta.” A soft laugh leaves your lips at his threat, and you raise a brow.
“That right? Maybe I’ll take off one day, just to test you.” Joel’s eyebrows raise, a daring look in his eyes, arms tightening around you as he lifts you off the ground effortlessly, tossing you onto the plush bed.
“Yer mine now sweetheart, ain’t letting you go, ever.” He murmurs against your neck, hovering over you, pressing a small kiss to the soft skin of your temple.
“Mine till the day I die.” He growled possessively, the tender touch was a concise movement, one that contradicted his possession.
Somehow, you had disarmed him. And from now on, Joel wasn’t going to fight it.
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