Crime And Punishment The Lecture
Crime and Punishment The Lecture
Grab a latte! Time for a sweet treat before you head into The Bookshop! Check out "Bookends" by @djarinmuse, it will absolutely hit the spot...
Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, discussion of murder/violence, alcohol consumption, MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", spirituality/religion/existentialism
Series Masterlist
Words: 4k
It had been weeks since you had seen Joel, or risked an inopportune meeting in The Bookshop. After your enigmatic encounter over Winter Break, you had oscillated somewhere between embarrassment, irritation, desire and confusion as to whether your presence would be wanted. What had started as a literary deconstruction had quickly turned into a personal one, and you couldn’t be sure how welcome that journey would be. Granted, there was a lot of preparation to restart the school term after the holidays, but truthfully, it was just easier to ignore everything your conversation had unearthed. That is, until class resumed.
Avoiding Joel had been easy; there were always patrols and commune business to aide your self-imposed isolation. You had to admit The Bookshop would have been a valuable resource for your curriculum prep, but you had done without and could do so again. If you were being truly honest with yourself, it wasn’t the books you were really missing. But the renewal of the school term loomed large on the horizon, and here you stood at the doorstep. A cornucopia of ridiculous age gaps-tremendous potential—and Ellie.
Ellie was one of your brightest and most ambitious students to date, but after the mysterious dinner, culminating in unspoken desires and tenuous subtext, you were more concerned than ever. Not only did you want to help Ellie explore her intellect and agency, she wasn’t one to shy away from difficult conversations. You found yourself at a strange crossroads of desperately wanting to offer guidance, but shrinking inward at the possibility of transparency and vulnerability. Some teacher. And yet, here you all were, poised to begin the exciting class term, bright, smiling faces beaming up at you—-and Ellie.
She sat transfixed by the melting, winter’s landscape, watching a solitary red cardinal, flitting colorfully from tree branch to tree branch as you waxed philosophically about the semester’s objectives. Perhaps the door had already been closed, and your friendship was an opportunity that had died an early death. You attempted to plow forward, unfazed, but concerned nonetheless. It was a strange dichotomy to recognize your own inability to survive alone, but still be so paralyzed by the fear of letting anyone in. At least, as a teacher, maybe you could instruct the next generation how to avoid that alienation, short of exampling it yourself.
The day passed relatively quickly, as, much like the cardinal, you flitted from desk to desk, attempting to help each student with their diverse and varied projects revolving around history, agriculture, science, medicine, home arts and more. You had quite nearly forgotten the conundrum as students bolted out the door in the late afternoon light, hunched over your desk, perusing assignments and projects, until a familiar voice juxtaposed itself.
“Hey teach, got a second?” Ellie’s direct lilt tickled your ears curiously, as your eyes shot up to meet hers.
“Oh! Ellie, I’m so glad you stayed behind” you fibbed ever so slightly, simultaneously intrigued, and terrified at the line of potential conversation. Ellie seemed to breathe a small sigh of relief, gazing behind her conspiratorially, assured she was out of earshot.
“Did uh…did something happen between my…between you and Joel…at dinner, or something?” Ellie whispered in hushed tones, a tinge of concern passing over her countenance at the possible overstep.
“No! I mean…maybe. I…” you sighed heavily, swallowing hard. What DID happen? It was so bizarre to experience a moment of deep meaning, without any true understanding of what the significance was. “Why, what did he say?” you shifted gears, suddenly anxious as to her approaching answer.
“Nothing!” Ellie immediately confessed. “I mean, you know Joel. Just grumbling and silence mostly. He keeps asking about you, and how you’re doing, and moping around the house…even more than usual” Ellie smiled dolefully, picking at the edge of your school desk. “He’s been telling me more about the book…” she quipped, slinging her pack over her shoulder heftily, “…and mentioning that I should ask you about it…”.
“Oh, is that so?” you brightened slightly at the admonition that Joel seemed as unnerved as you, but as yet undeterred. Maybe you hadn’t ruined the entire prospect.
“He says you have a special understandin’…about a woman’s ways. Or…good at holdin’ secrets…I didn’t really ask what he meant…” she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders good-naturedly, noticing the reddish tint at the top of your ears.
“Yeah, there are some secrets that should probably stay hidden” Joel’s words echoed in your mind acerbically, as you wondered if the sentiment were true.
“I guess…” Ellie picked at her nails awkwardly, looking around the room for hidden solace.
“Is that what you wanted to ask me about?” you ventured, truly desirous to help Ellie with whatever challenge she might be encountering.
“Oh! I just remembered who Mr. Marmelade reminded me of!” she chirped, as her demeanor immediately darkened at the confession. Perhaps Ellie was finding herself as conflicted as you were regarding transparency and community.
“I’d love to hear about it, if you want to tell me” you tentatively opened the door of conversation relishing the avenue of opportunity. Maybe you wouldn’t be the one to teach Ellie the art of authenticity, perhaps it was the other way around. A moment of silence stretched before you as Ellie seemed slightly at war with herself, weighing her options. She finally pulled one of the wooden stools forward, hunching over your school desk secretively.
“Alright…when Joel and I were traveling here, we met lots of people on the road to Jackson” she began, a weight noticeably lifting from her shoulders. “I’d never really been much out of the Boston QZ, and everything was…one big adventure!” her eyes lit up momentarily with the remembrance. You smiled in solidarity, reflecting on some of your own adventures and discoveries. There was a lot of life to be lived, even in this apocalyptic atmosphere. You nodded encouragingly. “But…not all of it was good…” she paused, her face shifting with discomfort. “Plenty of challenges, and some friends…but most of them didn’t make it out alive. Not like us.” Ellie stated bluntly, her chest collapsing slightly with the heaviness of the reality. You turned your eyes downward, listening carefully and nodding your head. Most of these kids had seen more tragedy than any young life deserved, and you wished you could ease their suffering, ANY suffering around you.
“There was this one town…” she began, her gaze blurring slightly with the memory “…and we were in the Kansas City QZ. There was a heap of trouble there, and people shooting. And an army, like a bona fide ARMY of infected. But we met these two guys…” Ellie stopped, her voice cracking slightly with emotion. “Uh, we met these two guys Henry, and his younger brother Sam…and they were real great” she finished, her eyes glossing over with an emotive sheen. You pursed you lips thoughtfully, curious as to Ellie’s question, and hesitant to hear the story’s conclusion. Holding the silence tenderly, you cautiously waited, joining Ellie in the palpable feeling of loss.
“And…I couldn’t…” her eyes filled with tears, defiantly willing her emotion to stay hidden “I couldn’t help them” she finally admitted, wiping her tears away quickly as the they cascaded down her cheeks unbidden. “I couldn’t save them” she whimpered slightly before stilling completely in silence. You smiled tenderly in the stillness, nodding again in affirmation. You wondered in that moment if you didn’t have the same feeling of helplessness right now. Each human’s life was so uniquely distinctive. But how can any of us truly help one another, if not by simply living and dying in existence, together? You paused, weighing your words carefully as you proceeded forward.
“That’s a lot like the Marmeladov Family, don’t you think?” you ventured quietly, watching Ellie’s eyes round out plaintively in the silence. She dragged her hand sniffily under her nose, closely returning your gaze. “Rascal wants to help them, but things go from bad to worse until…”.
“They don’t make it, do they?” she rasped, her eyes a darkened hue of anguish.
You tilted your head to the side empathetically. “Some of them do, and some of them don’t. We just can’t save everyone, all the time…”. Ellie breathed heavily, the weight of truth settling around her like a comfort-less blanket. “But that’s part of what it means to be truly human. Acknowledging one another, and our own inability. Feeling helpless, and yet still trying.”
“Do you ever feel that way? Helpless?” Ellie’s voice had nearly disappeared, the boisterous laughter of children echoing from the nearby stoop in contrast.
“Oh my God, when do I not?” you nearly laughed with incredulity. “All of us feel the weight of inability, every single day. You. Me. Joel…”.
Ellie pulled back skeptically, “Joel isn’t helpless! He might be annoying, but he does all kinds of stuff. Taught me to shoot. Knows how to hunt. You think Joel is helpless?”.
“I think…Joel is human, honey” you smiled, his face immediately reflected in your mind’s eye, full of sensitivity, wonder and depth. “I think we’re all HUMAN. Dostoyevsky hit the nail on the head, whether you’re living in the 1800’s or at the tail end of the world…” you surmised, not censoring yourself as one might, in the honesty of the sentiment. “And the unique privilege for us to be alone, together. To try against all odds, to ease one another’s suffering, whether we achieve it or not, is the Divine gifting of every individual. Every human heart”.
Ellie smiled ruefully, sitting a bit taller, and slinging her bag over her shoulder more definitively. “Okay, teach. Thanks for the talk” and with that, she was quickly exiting the room, purposefully headed to…wherever she was headed next. “Oh! And will you visit Joel sometime soon?” her voice surprisingly caught you from the doorway. “If Rascal the Cat is his only companion, I’m gonna have to sit through more of his mumbles and grumbles about you for the rest of my life, and it’s drivin’ me NUTS. Put him out of his misery already?” she smirked, hefting her book bag one last time and leaving you with your own muddled but increasingly optimistic outlook.
Standing outside of The Bookshop, you weren’t rightly sure how you had arrived at Joel’s doorstep once again. Almost hoping he were unavailable you noticed Rascal the Cat currently eyeing you smugly, seated indoors on the cozy quilt. Surveying The Bookshop from the foyer window you saw the familiar crackling fire, pot of coffee and burgeoning selection of books you and Joel had begun to categorize by Dewey Decimal system. The hand-made mahogany chair sat otherwise in solitude, before you hesitantly entered The Bookshop to the characteristic bell.
Your eyes widened at the growing selection of literature Joel had procured. This was turning out to be your own personal Library of Alexandria, assuming that Joel didn’t completely bar you from entry. Ironically enough, his deep throated voice boomed from the back room, “We’re closed!” his broad frame entering the main room confidently before he halted in his steps.
“It’s you” he whispered, his entire countenance momentarily dissolving in a softened visage before stoically snapping back to attention. “You’re okay, teach” he grumbled, shewing the cat out of your chair and headed towards the wood burning stove. “Coffee?” he rhetorically asked, before grabbing your favorite mug and pouring you a cup. You buttoned your lips tightly, anxiety creeping into every fiber of your being. Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up…You sat quietly in the mahogany chair, gathering the quilt around you protectively. Maybe if you just didn’t speak, you could rely upon yourself to be the person the Miller Family deserved.
“Awful quiet over there, teach. We didn’t scare you away, did we?” Joel’s voice melodically intoned, but it was betrayed by an undercurrent of real concern. He handed you the mug of joe as you noticed a slight tremor in his fingertips, before he placed them confidently astride his hips. “Ellie said you had a real nice talk” he shifted awkwardly from side to side, a vision of forced neutrality.
“We did. I was so glad she decided to confide in me. Thanks for the support…” you encouraged, taking a timid sip of the potent beverage. Joel’s face lit up in recognition temporarily, hopeful at your re-established rapport. “S’no trouble. It was a hard journey here and…well, I’m not much for talkin’. At least not always sayin’ what I mean…” he trailed off, rubbing humbly at the back of his neck. “Sorry I ruined…the dinner” he added, almost as an after-thought.
Your mouth parted slightly in shock. “You didn’t ruin anything. I was just surprised” you confessed. “Maybe too much bramble berry wine. I’ll know better for next time!”
“Next time?” Joel immediately pounced on the inflection, his eyebrows shooting up in delighted anticipation. You stalled, momentarily unsure of yourself.
“Well, we’re only halfway through the book! You didn’t think you were gonna get off that easily, did you?” you teased, hungrily taking in Joel’s playful expression. He breathed a sigh of relief as Rascal the Cat intertwined itself amidst his ankles.
“Sure thing” he sighed. “Still not the best student though, teach…I’ve been a little…distracted” he gazed down at the orange tabby nuzzled against his calf.
“Worried about Ellie?” you ventured, Joel’s acknowledgement immediately catching yours, as he nodded curtly. “Well, like you said, she’s a good kid. This is what growing up is all about. Questions, doubts. Discovering what it means to be human. Spirituality…”.
Joel shook his head emphatically, “We’re not religious, teach. If you knew the people we met on the road here…”.
You cut him off gently, “I’m not talking about religion, I’m talking about the human spirit. That’s what Dostoyevsky is talking about; the way we live, the way we die, and all that’s in between. Ellie’s just coming to terms with what it means to just…be”. Joel looked at you pointedly, his gaze once again taking you apart, piece by piece. You felt oddly naked, sitting before him, completely swathed in the comfortable quilt.
“I just want her to be happy” Joel finally whispered, wistfully searching through the window’s haze.
“Me too” you smiled, joining the intentionality of his search. “We just have to remember that there’s a lot more to life than just…happiness”. You shared a long stare with Joel in the quiet of The Bookshop, punctuated by purrs from Rascal the Cat, as unexpected snow began to drift in the outside flurry.
“Who said, that, Dostoyevsky?” Joel smirked, stepping slowly forward and drawing the quilt up around you sweetly.
“Me” you grinned dolefully, pouting with chagrin.
“Birds of a feather” he smiled, drawing your chin between two calloused fingers, with a small but tender pinch.
The winter days continued to pass quickly, though the snowfall didn’t seem to ease up. You continued to meet Joel at The Bookshop, organizing the sections of languages and science. The technology section seemed particularly bare, and currently obsolete, but perhaps someday mankind would be able to have a resurgence of technological growth, and you wanted to ready the next generation as much as you could. Sometimes you stopped by The Bookshop to find it cold and empty, with news of an ongoing patrol reaching your ears, and stoking anxiety in the cavernous depths of your heart. Was Joel okay? Should you check on Ellie? How long would he be gone? But those moments seemed to be few and far between, and you shoved them out of your mindset as much as was possible. Unwilling to upset the tenuous balance of your ongoing friendship, you gave both of them as much distance as the three of you seemed to thrive on. It wasn’t until several weeks later that Ellie approached you again, as the classroom dissipated.
“Got a minute, teach?” she hesitantly asked, drawing your attention to her fidgeting fingers and anxious demeanor.
“Of course, Ellie, you know I’ve always got time for you. How are you and Joel doing?”
“Don’t know. Joel is still out on patrol. Has been, all week…” she mumbled, as you bit your lower lip. You knew about Monday’s patrol, you just hadn’t realized its duration. “Got the whole Miller Mansion to myself…” she almost whimpered, adopting an immediately confident and armored appearance.
“Oh, honey, you can always come to my place if you want. Or I can come to you? Joel wouldn’t want you to be all alone…” you concernedly offered.
“It’s okay. I’m not scared” Ellie unconvincingly added, fidgeting with her pack once again. “Just…real quiet…at night. Rascal the Cat doesn’t say much” she joked. “In that way…just like Joel”.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got someone” you commiserated, starting to pack up your papers for the evening’s work, secretly worried about the ongoing patrol, but unwilling to telegraph it, for Ellie’s sake. “Did you need help with your homework?”
“No, I just…started reading more of “Crime and Punishment”…Joel left his copy, and I was real bored…and I’m reading more about that Squid-Guy…” she sheepishly recounted, shrugging her shoulders awkwardly.
“Svidrigaylov” you joked with your best Russian accent.
“Yeah, Snake Eyes, Joel calls him. Seems like a real sonnafabitch…” she joked, immediately catching your eye as you both mouthed… “LANGUAGE”. Chuckling with one another easily, Ellie paused considering her next words carefully. “Joel said…you were real good at keepin’ secrets?”
You looked at Ellie cautiously, Joel’s enigmatic words reflected back at you, and wincing slightly at their double meaning. “Your secrets are safe with me” you finally promised, sitting back and awaiting Ellie’s response. Ellie took a deep breath before beginning.
“You know I told you about Henry and Sam, who we met on the road?” she started, her fingers idling spooling a loose thread from her well-worn winter’s sweater. You nodded somberly, the periphery of your mind drifting to Joel’s whereabouts. Ellie needed him. Was he okay? Where was the patrol? What if things somehow took a turn for the worst?
“Go on” you encouraged, shaking your head of the clouding, fearful cobwebs.
“Well, we met other…people. Some of them not so nice. There was a man…who pretended to be…He called himself a preacher, and he was anything but. Unless he was preaching a gospel of…shit” Ellie pursed her lips, caught between her own indecision and need. “He was a real bastard…and his flock! He lied to them…manipulated them. Used them” Ellie stopped, struggling with the memory of it. Your eyes narrowed in comprehension. No way in hell would Joel let anything happen to Ellie on his watch. What had happened? Is this the secret everyone was so reticent to share? You would never doubt Joel’s intentionality, and whatever he had done, you KNEW it was for a good reason.
“What happened, Ellie? Did Joel hurt him? Did Joel…kill him?” you tried to make the statement neutrally, as though speaking to a wounded animal, as Ellie’s eyes widened to the shape of saucers.
“It was me” she croaked, almost inaudibly. “I did it. I killed him”. Her face took on a strange detachment, eyes clouding over with disassociation. “Everything was on fire. He was gonna……so I did it. I killed him…before he killed me”. Your eyes quickly flitted to the open doorway, ensuring that no one was standing within earshot.
“Who knows about this?” you whispered, drawing your arms across the desk and taking Ellie’s hands carefully in yours.
“Just Joel” she cried quietly. “He found me after”.
You nodded your head solemnly, still anxious as to where Joel was. No wonder he was so protective of her, and who could blame him? No child should have to endure what Ellie had experienced.
“Joel said it was self defense but…” the pallor of her face immediately paled “but what if it wasn’t?” Ellie’s voice sounded nearly strangled in her throat as a wave of tears threatened to pour forth.
“Honey, if Joel said it was self defense, then that’s what it was. You know you can trust him” you assuredly stated, rubbing Ellie’s hands together and rising from your desk. “Humans will do whatever they must, in order to survive, and it sounds like you did just that” you humbly offered. “Come on, let’s get you home, I’m not letting you spend another night with the memory of that Squid-Guy” you tried to jest, Ellie tiredly grinning. “Maybe we’ll take a little break from ‘Crime and Punishment’ for a while?” you questioned, hugging her around the waist and nodding together. What the hell kind of apocalypse were you living in, that children had to ask these kinds of existential questions instead of basic math? In that moment, you vowed to protect Ellie in the same ways that Joel had. He would come back. He had to. But if someday he didn’t, Ellie would NOT be alone.
Trudging through the never-ending snow you arrived at the Miller Household later than evening, a fresh stack of books procured from The Bookshop, and a fresh pot of stew enjoyed with the fire. Ellie had quickly retired to her bedroom, the result of a string of nightmarish evenings while awaiting Joel’s return. Rascal the Cat sat curled at your feet, as you perused the reading material recently found. It was a strange cornucopia of items; “Jane Eyre” (though it seemed to be missing several pages), a collection of poetry by various authors, “In Cold Blood” by Truman Capote. You had just begun to rifle through the many options when your heart lurched at the lumbering figure leading up to the doorstep. The orange tabby mewled affectionately, as you heard the heavy stomp of boots hit the landing before some mumbled profanities and the sound of keys dropping to the stoop. You sat up curiously, anxious for Joel’s possible arrival as the door flung open in a wintry bluster, Joel tripping slightly over the lip of the frame before he shut the door. You immediately smelled the sweet fragrance of whiskey as Joel stumbled backwards into his own home, shaking the snow off the shoulders of his winter jacket, his head lolling sideways to catch your surprised gaze from the living couch.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Joel slurred, his eyes half mast as he removed his winter jacket halfway, catching his arms at the elbows. “You here to save me, teach?” he hiccuped, stumbling forward slightly and bracing himself heavily at the back of the couch.
Holy hell.
More Posts from Pedges-world and Others
Pedge Tweets!
Thanks @inept-the-magnificent for the tag, I've been wanting to do some Instagram worthy characters for a while! I might occasionally incorporate real tweets or photos, but it's mostly just me....and Pedge...
PedgeIsPunk PikesPlace MyDarlingMuse AfterglowSeries PedgesBookshop PedgesJukebox NewYorkNewYork PinkiePiePedge PedgesCinema
Here's the template to try yourself!
Pena's Pose
Thank you @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I don't often like reposting my own work, because it messes up my dashboard. I guess Pedge and I run a tight ship, much like Pena himself, but occasionally he decides to let loose. Don't forget to check out our Afterglow Series that focuses specifically on intimate topics. Pena particularly enjoys "Workplace Benefits" and don't forget to listen to Pena's Playlist for the fully immersive experience. Narcos was absolutely amazing, definitely check it out if you haven't seen it yet....Pedge is heading to bed....
Moody Movie Poster
Our main event is on the horizon! Stay tuned for our first full length feature film at Pedge's Cinema! Thanks to Naqmeh Art for the likeness! We are excited to deconstruct some of Pedge's Favorite Movies;
All About Eve Alien Thelma and Louise East of Eden Blade Runner
Vote for Pedro!
I've actually been pleasantly surprised how relatively innocuous my feed has been on this point. Looks like we can all agree on one thing; smut. Lol. If only we could all vote for Pedro. But, in a way we can! I personally will be voting Harris/Walz, and you can check Pedge's feed for his political opinions, but one thing I know he would approve is enjoying all of the benefits that democracy and freedom have to offer, and voting is one of them. See you at the polls! #democracyissexy
Pedro-Tober #3
Inspired by @alyssamariag and @norththelemon I've decided to feature curated pics/art, juxtaposed with fics and AI inspired Bitmoji. So much artistry to celebrate this October, we have our hands full. Look at these amazing artists!
Series Masterlist
13.) Javi Gutierrez: Afterglow Fic (Phoenix Rising) @pedges-world
14.) Freebie! IG: @art_faraday
15.) The Materialists: @norththelemon
16.) Whiskey: @alyssamariag
17.) Arm Sling: IG: @amakuni_s
18.) Oberyn Martell: IG: @vanessadraws
19.) SDCC: IG @vanessadraws
Also, Pedge and I are "Trick or Treating"! DM me to play!
PB + J: Interview
I've been seeing this cute questions prompt, and it got me wondering how the man himself might respond. Before I knew it, Pedge was! At least in my IMAGINATION. I have imbibed most of his interviews so it's an educated GUESS, but I also like writing dialogue and this was a fun exercise.
It's also interesting how many times Pedge acts as an avatar for my personal growth or emotional exploration. As always, Pedge is a self-made man, if you count Bitmoji and my FABRICATED answers...
Do you make your bed?
J: Never. I detest it. I want at least one area of my life that stays cozy and messy and immediately ready for cuddles. Plus I’m single, so nobody else to answer to.
Pedge: If I remember. I’m kind of lazy. When given the chance, I’m a homebody so….wait, do I have a guest?
Favorite Number?
J: Seven? Three? I’m not superstitious, but I like patterns.
Pedge: Favorite number? Uh…2 billion…and FIVE! Point…6.
What’s your job?
J: How much time have you got? I think of myself as an artist and collegiate professor. I specialize in music, theater and art mentorship.
Pedge: The jury’s still out. I’m trying. I think it’s official, but who knows? Trying to play in the sandbox over here. Would love to write some more. One dream at a time…
If you could go back to school would you?
J: Absolutely. I’m a collegiate professor so I go to school for a living. But I would get every degree, every subject…okay not EVERY subject…
Pedge: Absolutely not. I kind of….suck at school. I’m very good at reading. I’m voracious. But school and I were not a great fit.
Can you parallel park?
J: Yes, nervously. I had an apartment in college that required parallel parking, but downtown areas make me tremendously anxious. I hate doing it.
Pedge: Um, hello? Whataryatalkinabot? Yeah. I live in LA. Well, when I’m not in NY, and there nobody drives. I mean, I guess I’d rather walk? Without talking…I’ve got headphones.
Can you drive a manual car?
J: Nope. My grandma taught me to drive a tractor. Does that count? Don’t think I remember…
Pedge: Uh…I don’t know. Do I? I feel like this is one of those questions where they ask if you can do something so you lie about it on your resume. Yes. I also can ride a horse. That one I can actually do…
What’s your guilty pleasure?
J: Smoking. I have a weekly cigarillo and read Tumblr. Boop.
Pedge: NOTHING. I have no guilty pleasures…because pleasure is not something to feel guilty about. I did like smoking in Narcos. Narcossss.
Tattoos?
J: I’ve been planning four very specific tattoos, particularly after my hysterectomy last year. But I’m waiting for the right time. Not sure when that is exactly…
Pedge: Yes. Next question.
Favorite Color?
J: Yes. I like all colors.
Pedge: I like colorful things. Colorful people. I’ve never forgotten that quote by Alice Walker, “I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple and don’t notice it”. I just finished reading “The Autobiography of Red” by Anne Carson. And I like “Bluets” by Maggie Nelson…
Do you like puzzles?
J: Definitely, but my mom is the expert. I like Lego Sets and internal emotional puzzles.
Pedge: Don’t have the patience. I can like…stand and point where things would go. I’ll boss you around while you work on a puzzle…I’d rather read…
Any phobias?
J: The ocean. This is ridiculous because I grew up on the West Coast, but I’ve only “swum” in the ocean once, in Mexico. I also dislike thinking about infinity. It’s just too scary.
Pedge: Phobias? Spiders? I like horror movies, so I’d take a good scare, especially in the cinema. Unemployment? Does that count?
Favorite Childhood Sport:
J: Dance. Running? I didn’t get into half marathons until adulthood, so PE was a terrifying experience. Can we never do dodgeball again?
Pedge: Viva Chile! I like futbol. I mean, soccer. If we win. WHEN we win…I swam competitively as a kid. Until I didn’t.
Do you talk to yourself?
J: Constantly. This is an ongoing monologue that never ceases. Why do you think I’m in the arts.
Pedge: Isn’t that…what we’re doing now? Wait, what is this? Who are you? Whyaruaskinmeallthesequestons? Yes. Sometimes I can’t get myself to shut up. Now, if I would only listen.
*thanks @thecutestgrotto for the dividers!
Pedge's Bookshop Prologue
Grab a Latte! lounge around in the foyer with this sweet fic "Coffee Shop Date" @mermaidgirl30 before heading into the Bookshop!
Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, implied PTSD/anxiety attack, accidental surprise attack, this series will feature MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment" so start readin' now!
Series Masterlist
Words: 3k
The cold winter breeze stung the bitter rosebud of your cheeks as you folded your arms tightly against the bracing barrage. Another Christmas at the compound. It had been several years since your acceptance into the sterling community, and every initial interaction had been one of desperation and gratitude. You had enjoyed setting up the small school for teenagers and children, embracing the tenuous comfort and security of a fledgling society fighting for its life and every day had seemed like a small miracle. But with the passage of time and cessation of minute to minute survival risks, you paled at your recent discovery; life had become repetitive, and even dull.
Watching the happy children circling around the main street tree, couples laughing contentedly and home made gifts being passed from household to household, you were immensely thankful for every miraculous circumstance. But you couldn’t help but reflect on the adage that mankind was made for more than survival. The nuances of your solitary life had begun to weigh heavily upon you, and you wondered if anyone in the commune could understand the gaping hole that solitude brought, in a world that was already so isolated. Trudging down the epicenter of town you smiled politely as families passed you, waving at some of your students and finally stopping at the new storefront at the end of the thoroughfare.
The shop had remained unoccupied for years, until you noticed a lone individual carrying boxes of lumber and tools every week for a month. It wasn’t someone you immediately recognized, but scuttlebutt around town said that Tommy’s brother had arrived with a passenger in tow. That wayfarer had turned out to be Ellie, one of your most artistic and insightful learners in the cornucopia of students that you advised once or twice a week, when patrols and other duties allowed. The only thing you knew about her apparent guardian, Joel, was that he wasn’t available for conference, and largely kept to himself in the eating area. No one had said much, but you weren’t oblivious to the sideway glances and general foreboding that seemed to emanate from his demeanor. This was a man not to be trifled with, and he couldn’t seem to care less about any of the things that mattered so much to you. His whole being seemed to scream, “stay away”, so you did. Ellie was more than capable of handling herself, and truthfully you couldn’t blame him. In a world that was collapsing in on itself, survival was the only truly connective tissue. Everything else seemed like a luxury.
Stopping in front of the wide-paned windows, your jaw dropped slightly at the unexpected sight; books. Scores and scores of BOOKS! With the inaccessibility of technology, tablets were a thing of the past, and it had been countless years since you had set foot in a library of any kind. WHERE did all these books come from? Tentatively pausing at the door stop, you shook the smattering of snow from your head and shoulders and entered the warmth of the bookshop, accompanied by the small chime of a bell.
Letting the door shut behind you, you gazed wondrously at the craftsmanship of the front desk which was littered with empty mugs and assorted papers. There were shelves full of mismatched books, magazines and papers and a beautiful staircase leading up to a sparse upper level that held chairs, pillows and quilts. Breathing deeply you smelled the telltale fragrance of the written word, your eyes welling up with emotion. The Barnes and Nobles of the post-apocalyptic world had come to fruition here in the Jackson Commune, and you apparently had Joel Miller to thank for it. As if that weren’t idyllic enough, a small, beleaguered looking orange tabby lazily trotted towards you encircling your ankles and rubbing up against your calves with affection. Another solo journeyman. “Well hello there!” you whispered, immediately enchanted with the fantastical sight that greeted you unexpectedly. Maybe you’d read Joel Miller wrong. Was this really a literary utopia of his making?
Wandering down the center aisle you were immediately intrigued by the myriad of material available. As the town instructor, you could make good use of this new resource, but not in the current state of affairs. There was apparently no rhyme or reason to the organization of texts, as you thumbed through the selection haphazardly. Noticing a nearly ancient copy of Playboy propped up against “War and Peace” you smirked sardonically. Perfect for the sex education and history curriculum combo? Perhaps Joel could use some assistance…
Having a treasure trove like this at your disposal was going to be a tremendous asset, but it was definitely a diamond in the rough. Beggars can’t be choosers, and many of the books available were limping through their own existence, much like the residence of the Jackson Commune. Water damage, fire, moths…Some of the books seemed to be missing their covers, and entire sections of material were potentially lost for the ages. You pouted with dismay, reminiscing about the hours spent devouring the classics, poetry, and scientific discoveries—hoping to bring even a snippet of that educational power house to the children and teenagers in your care.
Rounding the corner your breath hitched hesitantly in your throat as you noticed the back of the broad shouldered individual before you. Clad in a comfortable plaid shirt that hugged his body snugly you recognized the peppered locks of hair framing the back of his head. My literary benefactor, you pondered, approaching quietly with the tabby prancing by your feet. You cleared your throat timidly, reaching up to touch his shoulder delicately.
Before a single word left your mouth the tall figure before you turned on their heel, dropping the book to the floor as the tabby skittered away in fright. A muscled forearm shoved you up against the bookshelf, pinning you down as a broad thigh locked between your legs in dominance. The breath completely left your body as sharp eyes seemed to penetrate your very soul—questioning your identity, your intentions, your presence…all furrowed under the passionate brows of the fire-like gaze that split the air like a knife. As though transformed by an unknown motivation, the dark eyes immediately softened, pulling back quickly as you dropped slightly forward to your knees, coughing with irritation.
“What’dya want?” Joel’s eyes were a penetrative mask of skepticism, but his tone was laced with the smallest tinge of penitence.
“Jesus, Joel!” you sputtered, rubbing at your neck tenderly and attempting to calm your pounding, adrenaline fueled heartbeat. “What the hell?” you choked, sliding down the bookshelf and plopping yourself down on the floor unceremoniously.
“Don’t hear so good anymore” Joel mumbled, dropping cautiously down on one knee and wincing with the effort. His expression was already shifting as he looked over your body with assessment, and….something else. “You hurt?” he questioned, scooping up the book with a large paw and placing his other heavy hand on your outstretched leg.
Shooing his hand away with annoyance you noticed the orange tabby peak its head out from behind the bookshelf inquisitively. “Is this how you greet all your customers, Miller?’ you spat out vehemently, pulling your knees up to your body defensively, more embarrassed at yourself than actually wounded.
“Shouldn’t sneak up on people like that” Joel offered, as though explaining his over-reaction to a satisfactory degree. “Look, uh…you’ll have to come back. We’re not quite ready for guests yet” he decided, as the cat lazily returned, bumping its head against Joel’s knee good naturedly.
“Goddam, will ya let me get up off the floor first?!” you retorted, swallowing dryly as your heartbeat settled into a more steady rhythm. Joel paused, swallowing hard and rubbing at the back of his neck dolefully.
“Srry, I shoulda put up the sign. Just gettin’ started…” he begrudgingly apologized, reaching out for your hand as he tiredly stood, now towering above you. “Let me help ya up”. You squinted skeptically at his hand as though waiting for a bomb to explode, as Joel stood resolutely, waiting for your acquiescence. “I’m Joel, by the way”.
“I know who you are Miller” you grunted, heaving yourself up and swatting his outstretched hand to the side. “Can you say the same about me?” Joel placed his hand defiantly on his hip, hiding the book slightly behind his back and looking at your appraisingly.
“School-teach” he gruffly answered sizing you up for the pocket change you were, compared to his lumbering figure. “Ellie likes you a lot” he proffered, potentially as a peace offering. The orange tabby slinked between you, unenthusiastically, in search of its next distraction. You bit your lower lip with reticence, surprised that Joel even knew who you were. Maybe you weren’t quite as isolated as you thought.
“Missed you at parent…I mean, uh…teacher conference this last Fall. Too busy?” you tentatively accused, ignoring your growing curiosity of the book Joel was surreptitiously hiding behind his back.
Joel cleared his throat awkwardly, “Patrol has me pretty occupied. Well, that and procurin’ these books. Ellie’s got a thing for certain books…” he mused, starting to relax a bit in your presence now that the imagined danger was abating.
“Well thanks…uh…for your service. Ellie is a remarkable student, you must be doing something right there” you stated, matter-a-factly, suddenly becoming more awkward by the minute.
“S’no problem. I like reading’ too, when I have the time” a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth in a drawl and you nearly melted on the spot. You hadn’t seen THAT before. This man might be dangerous in more ways than one. The silence hung in the air like a steely icicle beginning to melt. He’s not so scary, you silently mused, watching Joel scan your face for micro expressions, as though encountering a wounded animal. Your defenses were lowering a bit as you quickly grabbed for the book he was hiding, finally gaining a temporary upper hand.
Walking down the aisle with Joel trotting after you like the orange tabby, you observed, “Looks like you could use some help, Miller. Doesn’t seem like you know anything about the Dewey Decimal system” plopping yourself down on the pillowed, ornate wooden chair near the storefront window you continued to feign confidence. “Did you make this?” you suddenly blurted out, fingering the deep, polished mahogany wood and marveling at the craftsmanship.
“S’no trouble” Joel grunted, a light reddish tinge gracing his cheeks and neck. Oh this man was going to be a problem, you realized, finally gazing down at the “secret” book Joel had been perusing.
“Crime and Punishment??” you balked, mouth agape in surprise, “THIS is what you’ve selected for some light reading?” you scoffed, fingering the pages delicately and gazing at Joel anew. Who WAS Joel Miller?
“Uh…I’m only into the first few chapters” Joel deflected, stuffing his hands tightly in his jean pockets as the tabby reappeared, jumping into your lap cozily. “There’s more important things than readin’ I guess” he cleared his throat, somewhat juxtaposed by his month-long labor of love. You scoffed inwardly, basking in the steadily purring rhythm of the cat’s hum and sitting back in the sturdy chair.
“I don’t know, it seems like the real moments of survival make you more appreciative of what it means to be alive” you introspected. “What it means to be human…”. Joel guiltily looked around the room as though caught somehow in a hidden indulgence, but relaxed his posture watching you stroke the cat affectionately.
“Nice to have some quiet” Joel finally agreed, jaunting over to the front desk and clearing the space haphazardly. You leafed through the worn pages and frayed edges of the cover, harkening back in your memory to your first reading of the classic.
“The names are a doozy” you joked, peaking over at Joel’s curious expression hovering behind the counter. “Svidrigailove, Raskolnifkov?…”.
“Don’t know that first fella” Joel confessed. “I just call the other guy “Rascal” and try to keep everybody straight in my head. Guess the world wasn’t so easy before the infected, anyways” he reflected, leaning against the empty bookshelf behind him. “Lots of poverty, hurtin’ people, questions. Governments that don’t know what they’re doing. People’ll do just about anything to get what they need” he nodded, as though convincing himself.
You cocked one eyebrow, skimming through the book and arriving at chapter six. “Have you…already experienced the…crime part of crime and punishment?” hesitant to give away important details but secretly desperate to enjoy a conversation with another adult.
“Yeah, just reached…uh, just reached the murder when you walked in. Mighta had me a little jumpy” he admitted, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing at his sternum, as he shifted in place. You pursed your lips thoughtfully, trying to judge his conflicted expression. Nothing about this world seemed very easy when fighting for your very survival.
“Maybe that Playboy is a little more up your alley?” you jested, attempting to change the subject, but Joel seemed lost in his own train of thought.
“Rascal’s got me hooked. I didn’t really think he’d do it. I mean…I know he was desperate, but it doesn’t make much sense.” Joel paused with a weightiness, his body sagging under the reality, “I guess dyin’ never does” he finished quickly, still lost in a world unknown to you, but steadily and magnetically pulling you in. Joel wasn’t bombastic, but his words held an enigmatic depth of feeling. You took an indulgent moment to really look at his bearing, studying his labrythine expression and admiring his broad stature. This man was built for survival, and just the type of individual the commune needed. You just hadn’t realized there was a beating heart and an inquisitive mind underneath all that…plaid. Resting your elbow on the armchair and propping your head against the palm of your hand you began to feel more optimistically purposeful than you had in a long time.
“I’m going to help you” you declared, rising to your feet as the tabby scampered away huffily.
“Don’t need any help” Joel observed, placing his hands definitively on the front desk, his lips a tight line of resistance.
“Okay, ‘Rascal’ I think we both know that’s not true” you tossed the book jovially in the air as Joel caught it anxiously, and drawing it to his chest like the rarity it was. “Do you usually place your copies of Playboy alongside ‘War and Peace’?” you joked, broadly gesturing with your hand to the developing book shop.
“Huh?” Joel quirked, suddenly turning a brighter shade of red and pulling the book behind him conspiratorially. “I don’t read that stuff…” he murmured, placing the book hurriedly under the counter as though afraid you might snatch it from his grasp once again.
“Oh maybe you should, Miller, I hear they have really good ‘articles’” you chided, as Joel froze in place before huffing out a relieved breath.
“Yeah, I’ll do that” he rolled his eyes adolescently, suddenly unsure of where to place his hands and finally settling on returning them to his hips. “What kind of help? You’re not expecting…uh…payment of some kind?’ he immediately interrogated, a thread of incredulity lacing his tone.
“Trust me, being around…here…is payment enough. It’s been ages since I talked about anything besides arithmetic and agriculture” you moped, silently wondering what other discoveries awaited your probing eyes, and you weren’t just curious about the literature. Maybe you can’t judge a book by its cover, you surmised, steadily becoming more and more intrigued with the plaid-snuggled figure before you. Call it good teacher research. Yeah, research, you reasoned, already planning your next curriculum expansion with the help of Joel’s library. A world of possibilities was stretching out before you, if Joel were amenable to the newfound friendship.
“I can’t pay you” Joel repeated stubbornly as the cat leapt onto the front desk, stretching itself languidly.
“Do I look like I need a W-2 form, Miller? Hanging out with you is payment enough…” you let slip before biting down on your lower lip with embarrassment. Whoops. Cats out of the bag. Joel’s expression brightened for just a millisecond before shifting back to its original mask of stoicism. Sauntering around the front desk with purpose he poised in front of you, arms folded securely across his broad chest, before extending a decisive hand.
“You’ve got a deal” he waited, before you excitedly grasped his hand in agreement, your small fingers completely enveloped in his vice-like grip. Shaking one another’s hands for an extended period of time, the tabby meowed non-plussed as you nearly lost yourself in Joel’s steely stare. Breaking the silence you both took a step back, looking down at the ground awkwardly.
“What’s the c-cat’s name?” you stuttered, unsure of how to proceed next, as Joel turned around, poking the cat teasingly. The orange tabby swatted a small paw at Joel’s larger one, wrapping itself around his wrist and biting at the flannel edges.
“Don’t know. Just call him ‘cat’ for now.” Joel grunted, tilting his head to the side. You didn’t really believe in love at first sight, but then again the books might be warping your perception of reality.
“Well, I’m thinking ‘Rascal’ is a good option if you’re taking votes” you suggested, stuffing your hands in the back pockets of your jeans, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Noted” Joel smirked, holding your gaze pointedly until you felt your cheeks redden with the unexpected attention.
“Alright, I’ll just go, but I’ll be back tomorrow to collect your homework assignment” you teased, stifling the desire to kick his foot playfully, and opting to turn on your heel to make a quick exit.
“Homework?” Joel’s voice echoed after you as you flung the door open to the bitter cold.
“Yeah, tell that ‘Rascal’ to get to work! I want to hear all about the murder and Dostoyevsky’s thematic approach to crime, self-punishment and the purpose of suffering!” you melodically announced as the sounds of mainstream wafted in to the otherwise silent bookstore. The orange tabby pranced towards the back room, seemingly offended by the winter bluster.
“Not sure cats know much about Dostoyevsky” Joel answered, leaning on the front desk and taking a quick glance at your receding figure.
“No worries. He might not know much about Dostoyevsky, but even a cat knows something about suffering” you chided, watching a flicker of darkness shade Joel’s countenance before it immediately disappeared. “Catch you tomorrow, Miller!” you bantered, closing the door behind you, and accompanied by the characteristic shop bell upon exit.
Bracing yourself against the onslaught of frigidity, you somehow felt inwardly warmed by the unexpected friendship, and curiosity of a new project. Perhaps this holiday season held more than just obligation or solitude. Against your better judgement you turned back to gaze at the storefront, seeing Joel’s silhouette, unchanged, leaning against the mahogany counter and looking fixedly in your direction. Damn. So much for nonchalance, you scoffed, secretly counting the minutes until your literary reunion and enjoying the satisfying crunch of collected snowfall beneath your booted feet.
Moody SNL
Ohmygawwww...Don't cry. You're gonna make me cry. Honestly I think I fell in love on the spot. Always loved "The Mandalorian" but this completely did me in, along with his Variety Lie Detector Test...And the Talk Art Podcast...And "The Last of Us"...I mean, what can we say? It's been a slippery slope, but we should have won the Emmy (collectively, as a fandom)...
A Rose By Any Other Name...
Sigh. I'm conflicted. I love my blog title, but over the last year I've run into a little resistance. Two anons have questioned the title and last year there was tremendous discord associated with this particular nickname. I think at least one amazing writer has blocked me because of it, and I don't want to be associated with anything even peripherally gross...But I'm also working on finding my own literary voice...as I write about somebody else...ummmmm....
Pedge Tweets Afterglow
I love the throw down as much as the next gal, but I love the "Afterglow" even more. Excited to attempt this sexy time experimentation, writing for some of the Pedro Boys with variety in shorter snippets. Wanted a therapeutic outlet for our great and not so great "O"'s. Mostly self-indulgent intimacy writing, though Pedge is VERY excited...
Series Masterlist
*art by Vivek Gupta + Klimt
-
pedges-world reblogged this · 5 months ago -
djarinmuse reblogged this · 5 months ago -
pedges-world liked this · 5 months ago
-
anelva liked this · 5 months ago -
pedges-world reblogged this · 5 months ago
I'm a 40+ Sexy, Saucy Celibate ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Reblog account @pedrotease
227 posts