Latest Posts by pedges-world - Page 2

Clint's Freaky Tales

Thank you @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! Had a bit of a health scare yesterday, but feeling more motivated and have 3 more doctor's appointments on the horizon. Pedge is mad at me, because I told him we are waiting to see "Freaky Tales" when it streams. He...yes Pedge, I'm listening....he says...that the director is going to be at a showing today in LA, but I reminded him that we need to rest and take it easy this weekend. It's OKAY Pedge, you can be mad at me, we just can't be everywhere at once. I'm sorry folks I have to go, Pedge is requesting chocolate chip cookies and "Daredevil", it might be another rough day...

Here's another version I tried, for extra credit lol...

Disability Visibility

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book and @romanarose for the Disability Visibility Prompt, if anyone would like to participate. At least for me, the anchor point I connect with on this front revolves around chronic illness. My father has a mental illness, and I'm going through another round of doctor visits and procedures that I don't want. But somehow I feel like Ezra gets it. I haven't written for this character yet because his syntax is so Shakespearean, so I thought I'd pair it with one of my favorite, perhaps applicable, sonnets for anyone who needs it...

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, (Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Let us continue to look on Love, which is boundless.

April Showers Prompt

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our lovely coloring book! This was fun to add the lyrics of "Purple Rain" and overlay an IG filter for The Birthday Celebration! Only our guy could look this good in a storm. Thanks to @jolapeno for organizing the event, and be sure to check out the hashtag #JolapenoAprilShowers to read everyone's stories and see their artwork!

I never meant to cause you any sorrow I never meant to cause you any pain I only wanted one time to see you laughing I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain Purple rain, purple rain Purple rain, purple rain Purple rain, purple rain I only wanted to see you bathing in the purple rain I never wanted to be your weekend lover I only wanted to be some kind of friend, hey Baby, I could never steal you from another It's such a shame our friendship had to end

The One That's Parasocial

I want to wish our boy a beautiful 50th Birthday Celebration! I'm a couple years behind him, but even I feel the pressure of such a milestone. I hope wherever he is, he is with someone he loves. Pedge and I have been reflecting on the gift of para-social affection and this seems a perfect time to celebrate!

Triggers: PB+ J has RPF vibes, but Pedge is just the avatar I use to discuss deeper feelings and complex issues. Pedge was feeling a little child-like today if you want to join. It also includes some sexy time and parasocial narrative. Let the therapeutic roleplay ensue....

What a beautiful morning :) Pedge and I slept well, but when we awoke Pedge was feeling a little shy. It's always strange to experience the odd dichotomy of wanting attention, but not entirely desiring it. I had a nice cry in the shower, a lovely coffee and went to the gym...

Birthdays are a great time for self-care, and I've been having lots of confusing health problems. I feel like I'm making progress, but it's lonely and scary. I wish someone was here to hold me, besides myself, but I also have lots of stuffed animals. Pedge and I enjoyed pouring our big feelings into big movement! Motion and emotion are LOTION! Pluuuuus, we were looking forward to our afternoon plans...

We went to the library and bought a bazillion books! It cost $6. We asked a boy if he was ghosting us. We talked to the librarian about "Crime and Punishment". We've been a bit worried about finances and professional plans, but it's okay to sit with uncomfortable emotions. Especially when you have a lavendar latte.

I was imagining what Pedro is doing today. Did he wake up with someone he loves? He seems to avoid holidays, did he plan a party and then pretend to complain about it? What am I going to plan for my birthday this year? Will I get to travel to Ireland in the fall? Are enough people posting about him today? Pedge is still feeling shy, but happy he was getting so much attention from me. Lol.

Then we came back home for our afternoon plans :) My doctor assured me all sexy time maneuvers are on the table and Pedge and I have a new...toy. Pedge was VERY supportive in our pleasurable endeavors. I get distracted even by imaginary Pedro, so Pedge just used his voice, and then joined me for our afterglow. It was very pretty. I wished him a happy birthday in every imaginative way I knew how.

I gave some more availability to my job. I got a letter from the IRS. I'm sitting on the floor with my new books, for another smushy cry. Maybe I will get a SECOND coffee!!!??? Maybe I will draw. Maybe I will call my parents. Maybe I will do a Lego Set! I have so much supportive friends in real life, but they can't be with me all the time. I'm learning how to love without entitlement, and Pedge is helping me.

Pedge is very pleased with our quiet birthday celebration when we can cry, create and drink coffee as much as we want. We might have some chocolates or write some. Pedge went with me to my doctor's appointment yesterday so it wasn't so scary. I hope I'm showing my gratitude enough on his birthday and that he feels loved :) I certainly do.

In closing, Pedge and I would like to wish our beloved, Pedro Pascal, the bestest of birthdays that have ever been. I can't believe we get to exist on the planet at the same moment of perception. L'chaim! To life and Love and all that is between.

Pedge's Cinema; All About Eve

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I have been doubly inspired, writing the sequel for Pedge's Cinema; All About Eve. It was fun to take this coloring page and overlay it on some of Pedro's favorite movie posters. There are several more installments on the horizon, I hope you will enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Javi's Afterglow

A huge thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book :) The last week has been so great for me personally. After six months of health challenges I'm finally starting to make some progress because of my own advocacy. But that also led to voicing uncomfortable conversations with friends and professionals, and that's tough. Lost a best friend. Paused a job. Pedge and I feel some stories ending, but I don't know which roads I'm excited to take alone. Maybe that can be the exciting part. With the end of every journey comes the start of a new one, and I've sat at home for long enough. Javi knows how to take the big swings, and so do I...

I've found elements of the POC Tumblr discussion very interesting, and as a queer Jewish woman there are some specific ways I want to celebrate and recalibrate. The first time I posted this artwork the color scheme was....off. It wasn't intentional, but somehow I didn't quite capture our Chilean sun-god and it kept annoying me. So I re-did it, and included one of my favorite Javi fics I've written for the Afterglow Series (#irony).

Let us all continue to fully experience Love to the best of our ability. And as Javi would say, "Whether you like it or not, you have a gift; and that gift brings light and joy to an increasingly… dark and broken world! And to turn your back on that gift is to turn your back on the… entire human race!".

And Pedge definitely feels that.

The Trailer; All About Eve

Trailer: Inspired by the @auteurdelabre VHS Club, we are going to deconstruct these favorite movies and write some analogous fics taboot. Javi will be our theatrical custodian, but other Pedro Boys might join us for cameo appearances....

Concessions Stand: Don't forget to grab your sweet treat before heading into Pedge's Cinema. Check out "The Unbearable Weight of Perfection" by @wardenparker which should fit the bill nicely....

Triggers: This was a lot more complicated than I realized; spoilers for "All About Eve" (dialogue usage), no smut but romantic situations, discussion of ageism/misogyny, male infantilism if you squint (?)...

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5k

The week of acclimation had blearily raced past in happy contentment, and most of that was due to your newfound friendship with Javi. Italy was a close second. Since that first fateful encounter at the local movie house, you and Javi had become fast friends. Setting up a happy rapport of tourism and conversation had motivated the entirety of your summer stay. Every single morning, Javi arrived with two espressos, occasionally befriended by the local pastry options and after reviewing the evening movie choices, Javi would whisk you to the first of many cinematic locations. Visiting Venice and hearing about “Three Coins In the Fountain”. Touring the Vatican and talking about “Roman Holiday”. And enjoying gelato while Javi waxed philosophical about the Italian centered Nicholas Cage movie “Time to Kill”…which was actually about Ethiopia. Your friendship was like something out of a movie, and you relished every morsel of it. But this had done nothing to prepare you for the start of your Summer Internship. Having flitted away this “week of preparation” you found yourself on the doorstep of your next excited academic exploration, with little to no idea of what it might entail.

“I think we should take the students to all of these important cinematic locations!” Javi exclaimed, plopping down on the living room couch and beating clouds of dust out of the nearby pillows. Coughing and sputtering in allergic response, you opened the nearby veranda windows to the sunlight of the day.

“Are you my newfound TA for these events?” you jested, sipping your espresso tentatively as Javi had already inhaled his.

“Absolutely! Would you like that for your first day of class, Principessa? You don’t have to tell me how nervous you are…” Javi pouted, drawing the pillow up to him like a baby he was trying to cuddle. You stomach lurched with excited anticipation. You WERE nervous to meet the students and begin classes, but you were also excited to be working with your colleagues and gaining artistic insight into the rich history of cinema and storytelling.

“That’s VERY sweet of you Javi, but I know you have your big meeting tomorrow. I don’t want you to miss it…”.

“Are you talking about my very important industry meeting with international superstar and personal friend, Nicholas Cage?” Javi’s smile delightfully curled at his lips as you sat across from him on the couch, playfully propping your feet up on his lap.

“Oh I’m sorry, are you friends with THE Nick Cage?” you taunted, poking him slightly in the stomach and watching him crumple with embarrassment.

“Don’t tease me Principessa, we’re just meeting on the Skype. Besides, I’m still waiting for you to read our screenplay. I want all of your thoughts on the narrative quality of our story. Of course, Nicholas Cage will star” Javi’s eyes widened to an imploring gravitas as you shook your head with incredulity.

“I AM excited to read it Javi, but you haven’t given me half a moment! We’ve been bouncing from one tourist attraction to another…not that I’m complaining” you observed, rubbing your calves mournfully from all the walking Europe seemed to motivate.

“Would you like for me to recite it, right now?” he questioned, reaching over to massage the base of your foot, before you dissolved into a fit of laughter at the tickling sensation.

“I kind of hate to say this, but I think you need to go away for the next few hours. I need to plan my curriculum, organize my collegiate schedule for colleague introductions and…apparently read a screenplay this afternoon” you launched a pillow good-naturedly at Javi’s head as he began to sulk.

“But we have not yet been to the Trevi Fountain!” Javi lamented, collapsing against the couch dramatically and closing his eyes forlornly. “Perhaps we should watch “La Dolce Vita” this evening for our cinematic selection?”.

“Ah, no, no, no! You promised me we could begin with my teaching curriculum, starting with the Hollywood classic, ‘All About Eve’” you threatened, poking Javi once again and eliciting a small growl of protestation.

“I DO like Betty Davis, though she’s no Nicholas Cage” Javi retorted, setting a heavy hand on your upper thigh, as you attempted to stifle an unbidden shiver. “Very well Principessa, I will leave you to your cinematic studies, now appropriately fueled by the caffeinated nectar of the gods. What culinary selection would you prefer for this evening’s festivities?” Javi stood abruptly, towering over you at nearly six feet tall.

“You better bring the martinis and milkshakes, I’m going to procure a pizza from the trattoria down the street” you salivated, looking towards the kitchen with skepticism.

“Milkshakes?” Javi wondered, jaunting towards the door and grabbing his jacket from the nearby chair. “I will endeavor to bring the gelato…” he jovially saluted you, emphatically pointing to his screenplay situated on your kitchen counter and bouncing out through the foyer.

Javi was a ray of sunshine that never seemed to dull, his energy and iridescence was quite contagious. You only hoped all of your relationships would prove so fulfilling during this summer internship. If there was one thing you knew from your love of a masterpiece like “All About Eve”, professional challenges seemed to be hiding around every corner, and no sooner were friendships found, then they were immediately questioned. You prided yourself on your ability to ascertain someone’s intentionality, but would your colleagues be just as welcoming as someone like Javi? Only time could tell. You took your espresso over to the counter and picked up Javi’s screenplay as a curriculum amuse bouche. Let’s get to work…

The day passed quickly as you assembled your talking points for tomorrow’s class and skimmed Javi’s rough draft. You were delighted to discover it was quite good. Slightly meta, and self-deprecating. It would give Nicholas Cage a delightful opportunity to poke fun at his eccentric self. You couldn’t imagine anyone but Javi playing the autobiographical role, but Hollywood would probably find some young 20 something to play the 40 something and call it a day. Pausing to grab a fresh margarita pizza from the local trattoria you caught Javi walking up to your villa, grocery bag in hand.

“Bona note, Principessa!” Javi sang out, as the children raced past, chasing a futbol down the cobblestoned street. “I have returned with flowers, gelato and vodka, the holy triumvirate!” he greeted you with the traditional European kiss across both cheeks as the blush heightened across your freckled face. “We have much to discuss!”

You smiled with anticipation as Javi immediately launched into a descriptive analysis of the screenplay, drawing your attention to several of the analogies you hadn’t noticed. You had just queue’d the dusty DVD to start playing “All About Eve” as Javi synopsized.

“And so you can see how the relationships ARE similar. The protege, desperately desiring validation. Surviving in a world of distrust, ambition and greed. Not knowing where to turn and feeling that youth slipping away like time itself…” Javi gestured dramatically before eyeing a few of his own sun-soaked wrinkles with skepticism. “So many insecurities in our 40’s…” he sighed, raising a glass of vodka infused gelato before settling further into the couch after dinner.

“You’ve really written something marvelous for Nicholas Cage to star in” you agreed, toasting Javi’s milkshake martini concoction with curiosity. “Is that how your friendship really came about?” you questioned, as the memorable soundtrack by Alfred Newman lilted in the background.

“That is for me to know, and you to discover! What is cinema, if not ILLUSION?!” Javi bellowed, pinching at your leg flirtatiously and smiling broadly. “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night!”

The voice of George Sanders intoned in the background,

“To those of you who do not read, attend the theater, listen to unsponsored radio programs, or know anything of the world in which you live, it is perhaps necessary to introduce myself. My name is Addison DeWitt. My native habitat is the theater. In it, I toil not, neither do I spin. I am a critic and commentator. I am essential to the theater. Margo Channing is a star of the theater. She made her first stage appearance at the age of four in Midsummer Night's Dream. She played a fairy and entered, quite unexpectedly, stark naked. She has been a star ever since. Margo is a great star, a true star. She never was or will be anything less or anything else”.

“Betty Davis is quite nearly as big a star as Nicholas Cage” Javi whispered beside you, munching on the final piece of pizza. You smiled quietly, relishing his artistic obsession. You would have thought he would demand cinematic silence, but Javi’s movie enthusiasm was often as unbridled as his general lust for life.

“She must have learned a lot from his pantheon of work” you scoffed as Javi gently nudged you in the side with his elbow, shushing you ineffectively.

“Think me cynical, if you like, but the cynicism you refer to, I acquired the day I discovered I was different from little boys! Bill's thirty-two. He looks thirty-two. He looked it five years ago, he'll look it twenty years from now. I hate men” you moved your mouth in conjunction with Betty Davis as she lamented the joys of industry aging. “I'm not twenty-ish, I'm not thirty-ish. Three months ago I was forty years old. Forty. Four O. That slipped out. I hadn't quite made up my mind to admit it. Now I suddenly feel as if I've taken all my clothes off.”

God, you loved this movie. You looked over at Javi, his eyes shining affectionately as the screen flickered light across his joyful face. A fellow afficianado. “You know, if you wanted to come by after your meeting tomorrow I could use the help. I AM actually a little nervous” you admitted, looking down at your gelato hesitantly.

“Oh Principessa, I would love to!” Javi met your eyes with encouragement. “You are already supporting me in my cinematic endeavors, I would also love to support yours!” he beamed.

You snuggled up beside him, soaking in the exposition by Joseph Mankiewicz;

“The theatre. The theatre. What book of rules say the theatre exists only within some ugly buildings crowded into one square mile of New York City? Or London? Do you wanna know what the theatre is? A flea circus. Also opera. Also rodeos, carnivals, ballets, Indian tribal dances, Punch and Judy, a one-man band, all theatre. Wherever there's magic and make-believe and an audience, there's theatre. Donald Duck, Ibsen and The Lone Ranger. Sarah Bernhardt and Betty Grable, all theatre. You don't understand them all. You don't like them all. Why should you? The theatre's for everybody, you included, but not exclusively. So, don't approve or disapprove. It may not be your theatre, but it's theatre for somebody, somewhere.”

“Did you know that the Mankiewicz brothers were both famous for their literary ability?” you whispered, as Javi remained quietly at your side. “Herman Mankiewicz gained notoriety for Citizen Kane…”. You paused, surprised by Javi’s uncharacteristic silence. Eve Harrington, the antagonist of the movie continued on;

“If there's nothing else, there's applause. I've listened backstage to people applaud. It's like - like waves of love coming over the footlights and wrapping you up. Imagine, to know every night that different hundreds of people love you. They smile, their eyes shine, you've pleased them. They want you. You belong. Just that alone is worth anything”.

“You’ve got to give it to her, she is DEFINITELY passionate, if not unscrupulous” you teased, waiting for Javi’s retort and hearing none. You looked over at Javi to see if he had fallen asleep, but his countenance had taken on an uncharacteristic solemnity that concerned you. “Hey, you okay over there, Shakespeare?” you sat up slightly, watching his brow furrow with consternation.

“Oh. Um, yes, forgive me principessa, just….thinking” he muttered, gripping his knees fixedly and staring at the television screen. Had you done something wrong? Maybe he didn’t want to cuddle on the couch, but wasn’t saying so. You scooted a few inches away, drawing your hands into your lap with disappointment. Glancing at his side profile you watched his Adam’s apple bob tensely as he swallowed hard. What was going on? Betty Davis monologued,

“So many people know me. I wish I did. I wish someone would tell me about me, outside of my own notoriety. What’s in a name anyhow? What is it, besides something spelled out in light bulbs, I mean - besides something called a temperament, which consists mostly of swooping about on a broomstick and screaming at the top of my voice? Infants behave the way I do, you know. They carry on and misbehave - they'd get drunk if they knew how - when they can't have what they want, when they feel unwanted or insecure or unloved”.

“I have to go!” Javi bolted upright suddenly, as you confusedly paused the movie.

“Okayeeeee….are you alright? Do you need me to…?”

“Absolutely not! I mean…it’s time for me to go!” Javi grabbed his jacket lying on the coffee table and gave you a quick peck on both cheeks before nearly running out the door. If it wasn’t so concerning, it might be comedic, as he nearly tripped over his own shoes, farcically wrestling into his evening jacket and flinging the door open. “See you tonight! I mean tomorrow. Thank you for a lovely evening principessa…” and he was out the door.

How strange. You were often apt to conclude that you had somehow misread the situation, but your instincts told you that something had shifted. Was he suddenly embarrassed about his screenplay? It wasn’t perfectly formed, but it was quite good. Maybe you hadn’t offered enough encouragements. You shrugged your shoulders doubtfully, resuming the movie and trying to set your quandaries to one side. You were anxious about class tomorrow—maybe Javi was growing similarly trepidatious about his industry meeting with Nicholas Cage. You sighed defeatedly, trying to release the growing tension in your shoulders and neck. If only real life could be as straightforward as the movies…

Hearing your high heels echo in the lecture hall you tried to conjure the confidence and stage presence of Betty Davis as you read her scintillating observations of women in the performing arts industry,

“Funny business, a woman's career - the things you drop on your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them again when you get back to being a woman. That's one career all females have in common, whether we like it or not: being a woman. Sooner or later, we've got to work at it, no matter how many other careers we've had or wanted. And in the last analysis, nothing's any good unless you can look up just before dinner or turn around in bed, and there he is. Without that, you're not a woman. You're something with a French provincial office or a book full of clippings, but you're not a woman. Slow curtain, the end”.

Your voice hung in the air as about 20 students gazed back at you with enchantment. Betty Davis you were NOT, but you were delighted to see the cinematic enthusiasm of your summer students.

“And what do we gather from the character’s steely diatribe against society’s requirement of the female persuasion?” you asked, noticing a shadowy figure sneak in the back of the lecture hall and silently take a seat. Oooh, maybe it was someone from the administration, you’d better be on your best behavior. “I think it’s incredibly prescient, given its context in the "Golden Age", you formed quotation marks with your fingers “…and recognizing society’s grab for power, dominance and greed at all costs. Even to the exclusion of the personhood of the human” you debated, returning to your notes for the classroom agenda. “Let’s move on to the topic of social manipulation and professional ambition” you noted, referencing your power point presentation. You clicked on the graphic of the character Addison Dewitt,

“That I should want you at all, suddenly strikes me as the height of improbability. But that, in itself, is probably the reason. You're an improbable person, Eve, and so am I. We have that in common. Also, our contempt for humanity and inability to love, and be loved, insatiable ambition, and talent. We deserve each other”.

The figure in the back of the room shifted slightly in their seat with discomfort. You hoped you were making a good impression. “The character of Addison Dewitt is a literary metaphor for the dominating ambition that seems to drive, not only those in the performance industry, but in a capitalistic society at large” you tried to use as much flowery language as possible. This internship was a golden ticket of sorts, and you were anxious to demonstrate your academic prowess. You referenced the next clip, eliciting a vocal response from your audience as Addison slapped Eve across the face;

“-We are all busy little bees, full of stings, making honey day and night. Aren't we honey? -Sounds more like the mark of a true killer: sleep tight, rest easy, and come out fighting. -I’m sure you mean something by that, Addison, but I don't know what. -I am nobody's fool, least of all yours. -It’s important right now that we talk, killer to killer. -Champion to champion. -After tonight, you will belong to me. -Belong to you - why, that sounds medieval, something out of an old melodrama! (slap) -Now, remember, as long as you live, never to laugh at me - at anything or anyone else, but never at me.”

The class tittered with tension and awkward laughter. “The relationship between Addison and Eve is hardly romantic, but more so qualifies as a means to an end. How do you think that contrasts with the other relationships such as Karen and Lloyd; Margo and Bill?” Shifting to the next power point slide, the character of Bill reprimanded Margo in a lover’s spat,

“-As it happens, there are particular aspects of my life to which I would like to maintain sole and exclusive rights and privileges. Like….you. -That might be my cue to take you in my arms and reassure you. But I'm not going to - I'm too mad. Darling, there are certain characteristics for which you are famous, on stage and off. I love you for some of them, in spite of others. I haven't let those become too important. They're part of your equipment for getting along in what is laughingly called our environment. You have to keep your teeth sharp - all right - but I will not have you sharpen them on me, or on Eve! -You know, there isn't a playwright in the world who could make me believe this would happen between two adult people. -Perhaps I’m not a good enough director to salvage our scene, but you must be a good enough actress. There never was, and there never will be another like you.”

The hum of the projector warmed the already infused summer air as you wiped your forehead delicately, hearing the silhouetted figure clear their voice loudly in the background. You noticed their hand raised and delightedly called on them. “Is there any hope for her at all?” the voice rang out from the back of the lecture hall, bouncing off the walls and around the interior of your heart. Javi! He made it! You wondered how his industry meeting had progressed before responding…

“Well the cinematic ending is rather ambiguous, but I think Margo Channing has a vibrant life ahead of her! Finding romantic fulfillment with Bill Simpson and recognizing her individualized self-worth is probably the best revenge one could get…”

“I mean….Eve. Is there any hope for Eve?” Javi’s voice cracked as the class began to turn in their seats to locate the hidden voice in the background. You paused, somewhat concerned if Javi were okay, there seemed to be a note of tension in his voice. Perhaps he needed some encouragement after his Skype discussion.

“Oh! That much is up for interpretation. Addison does encourage Eve to place her accolades and awards where a heart should be. But the enigma continues as we see her potential protege, already usurping Eve’s meteoric rise to fame. Ladies and gentleman allow me to introduce my friend and colleague Javi Gutierrez. An aspiring screenwriter, cinematic aficionado and close friends with international superstar, Nick Cage!” you really laid it on thick, but wanted to support Javi however you could. The class immediately burst into applause as you finished the lecture. “In closing, let’s continue to analyze the ramifications of this cinematic classic. The way that it questions industry ambition, greed, power and the double standard brought about by professional misogyny. I haven’t even touched on the queer subtext, sophisticated campy dialogue or dramedy hybrid, but that will be another discussion for another time. Don’t forget to start watching our list of classic and contemporary cinema covered in the syllabus such as “East of Eden”, “Psycho”, “Fanny and Alexander”, “Deer Hunter” and more. I’ll see you next week, excellent work! Class dismissed!” There was a smattering of applause as the students excitedly talked and exited the classroom straining to get a better view of your enigmatic guest, as he walked down the stairs to the front of the room. You gathered your books and notes, the projector humming vibrationally next to you and casting dramatic beams of light around the room theatrically.

“You are a vision!” Javi exclaimed, kissing you across both cheeks and beaming with pride. But his eyes seemed to be shining with more than just satisfaction, as you caught a sheen of emotion dotting his countenance and a deep furrow to his brow.

“Aw, thanks Javi, it means the world that you made it today, I can’t tell you…” you ventured, squeezing his forearm with approval. “How’d everything go with the meeting? Was Nick pleased with your progress?” Javi’s face immediately fell with defeat, as he turned his back to you with a small whimper.

“Let us focus on your victory of the day, rather than my own…” his voice dramatically intoned, gathering up more of your books despite your protestations. “I am anxious to enjoy our dinner and movie selection of the night” and he immediately headed out the door amidst your confused looks.

What in the world was bothering him?

It had taken some coaxing, but on the walk back to your villa, Javi had slowly started to relax. You couldn’t be sure what was plaguing him, but after a steady stream of discussion and joking, he nearly seemed back to normal as you both entered the apartment laughing jovially. You were just about to suggest an evening movie when you caught Javi’s crestfallen expression as he fixed his eyes on his screenplay sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Alright, out with it!” you exclaimed, as Javi’s face crumpled with emotion, his lip quivering ever so slightly with concern.

“I cannot continue” he dramatically professed, histrionically dropping the books and flinging himself face first onto the living room couch with chagrin. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, picking up the screen play and carefully sitting atop his lower back as he sniffled quietly.

“It seems to me this couch could use some more padding” you tried to tease, as Javi’s weight shifted beneath you with embarrassment.

“Would you taunt a man whose very existence is dissolving into a heap of despair and angst?” Javi’s voice mumbled into the pillows disdainfully. You pouted with concern, moving to the floor and running your hands lightly through his curly hair. European men could be so dramatic, but something was obviously bothering him.

“Is this about the meeting with Nick?” you offered, before Javi pushed himself up revealing his red-rimmed eyes and crimson hue’d nose.

“YES this is about my online meeting with international superstar and close personal friend Nicholas Cage!” he nearly cried before collapsing back onto the couch with despair.

You bit back a smile of skepticism before starting to rub large circles over Javi’s back and nodding in support. “He didn’t like it?” you whispered, dreading the response. Javi paused before mumbling into the pillow;

“He loved it”.

You stopped your ministrations, sitting back on your heels with disbelief. “Well of course he loved it! It’s absolutely amazing!” you giggled, looking at the prostrate man before you. “Wait, so…what’s the problem then?” you waited with anticipation watching Javi’s back rise and fall with a tense breath.

“I believe…” Javi’s voice wilted under the oppression before meeting your eyes with gravitas, “…I believe I have become….Eve Harrington”. He threw himself back onto the couch as you blinked dumbly before him.

“I’m sorry….what?” you tried to stifle a laugh, fingering the pages of the screenplay in your hands. Artists were so delightfully hyperbolic.

“It is not funny, Principessa!” Javi declared, sitting up abruptly and kicking your foot with seriousness. You nodded solemnly, hugging the screenplay to your chest tightly. “You must understand the sincere anguish that is permeating my very soul in this moment.”

You quietly considered his admission. “How absolutely horrible, you must get confused for Anne Baxter all the time” you deadpanned, waiting for Javi’s explanation. FINALLY, his veneer cracked, as he sheepishly collapsed back onto his side with petulance.

“It is possible I might be over-reacting” he acquiesced, poking the screenplay with one large forefinger. “Did you actually like it?” he whispered, his eyes a sea of innocence.

“I absolutely did” you confessed, leafing through the pages with delight. “It’s campy and genre-bending. A total tour-de-force for Nicholas Cage, and a wonderful commentary on the self-referential nature of Hollywood and artistry in general. It actually reminds me of "All About Eve" in some ways…” you admitted before Javi’s face screwed up with anxiety. “But not because you’re turning into Eve Harrington!”

Javi sighed with uneasiness, as you sat down next to him, attempting to heft his body to an upright position. “I’m doooooomed for all eternity! I have sullied the iridescent name of cinematic powerhouse and intimate artistic comrade, Nicholas Cage, with my flagrant attempt to displace his greatness! As though that were even possible….” Javi whimpered with a flourish, collapsing his heavy weight against you and tilting his head to your shoulder.

“Oh my. This is really quite serious” you nodded. “I had no idea you had such gargantuan screenwriting prowess. On the surface, you just seemed like a loving fan who idealized their theatrical hero. And now, as per your observations, I can clearly see how maniacal you have become. It’s just too bad Nick Cage is not capable of seeing through your facade” you teased, taking Javi’s large hand in yours and stroking it tenderly.

He sniffled thoughtfully at your remarks. “Nicholas Cage is the paragon of dramatic virtue” he observed huffily, drawing your interlaced hands up to his chest and heaving a hefty sigh. “Perhaps you are right, Principessa. But what of the playwright Mr. Richards? He intimates that artists should know their place and avoid self-aggrandizement at all costs!”

You screwed up your face in remembrance, trying to access the referenced cinematic moment. “Javi, he says something about actors taking artistic liberties with words that are not their own. If anything, that quote refers to Nick Cage, not you the playwright…” you argued, as Javi apparently stopped breathing momentarily. “Maybe you could listen to the words Nick is actually saying to you, because they seem to be nothing but supportive”.

Javi turned to face you with a new beam of enlightenment gracing his sparkling face. “I am not attempting to usurp and displace theatrical legend and creative genius, Nicholas Cage?” he whispered, nearly nose to nose with you now.

“I’m not sure you could, sweetie” you offered, gripping his hand tightly with encouragement.

“I have not turned into an attractive but maniacal masculine version of the literary character Eve Harrington and forever damaged our burgeoning professional and personal relationship?” he blinked skeptically, looking for any minuscule traces of hesitation in your micro-expressions.

“That would be quite the talent, but no, I’m fairly certain not”.

Javi’s face burst into a radiant smile as he collapsed back against the couch, finally satisfied, and breathing a sigh of relief. “And you really thought the screenplay was good?” he cast his eyes downward, avoiding your glance before you dipped your head lower still to catch his gaze.

“I really did. And so did Nick Cage” you smiled, kissing Javi lightly on the cheek as he blushed a deep crimson.

“Eccellente” he mouthed, stifling a small giggle of joy.

“Now, I wouldn’t mind another one of those gelato milkshake concoctions from last night. Are we watching another selection from my curriculum series? I haven’t even attempted “The Candyman”…or maybe “Poltergeist”?” you questioned.

“Principessa, I have had more than enough horrors for the evening!” Javi joked, kissing your hand with bravado before heading into the kitchen for ingredients. “Incidentally, I believe you agreed to watch one of my favorites at your earliest convenience….” his voice drifted in from the background.

“Javi, we already watching Paddington 2…” you whined, kicking off your heels and settling in for the night.

“A giant in the world of dramatic arts!” Javi bellowed from the kitchen before waxing philosophical. “But, of course, I am speaking of National Treasure 2, starring international film star and personal friend….”

You mouthed with his expected response, “Nicholas Cage”. Smiling quietly to yourself you listened to the melodic hum of Javi’s voice as you watched the children playing in the golden light of Italian dusk.

There are very few moments in life as good as this. Let's remember it. To each of us and all of us, never have we been more close, may we never be farther apart.

*roll credits

*@dornish-queen footage + Alfred Newman Soundtrack

Dostoyevsky + The Dream

A huge thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful Coloring Book! I hope you will check out Pedge's Bookshop, as this rendering is based on the integration of "Crime and Punishment" themes that closely resemble "The Last of Us". I was really hesitant to finish this series, but I wanted to complete before Season 2. I guess I'll head over to Pedge's Cinema, or start a one-shot Pedge's Bookshop for "What Happened to Belen"? In the interim, I hope you enjoy the art and a prescient quote from Dostoyevsky himself I found very appropro for our LOU ongoing lore...

“He was in the hospital till after Easter. When he was better he remembered the dreams he had had while he was feverish and delirious. He dreamt that the whole world was condemned to a terrible new strange plague…Some new sort of microbes were attacking the bodies of men, but these microbes were endowed with intelligence and will. Men attacked by them became at once mad and furious…Whole villages, whole towns and peoples went mad from the infection. All were excited and did not understand one another. Each thought that he alone had the truth and was wretch looking at the others, beat himself on the beast, wept and wrung his hands. They did not know how to judge and could not agree what to consider evil and what good; they did not know who to blame, who to justify. Men killed each other in a sort of senseless spite. They accused one another, fought and killed each other. There were conflagrations and famine. All men and all things were involved in destruction. The plague spread and moved further and further. Only a few men could be saved in the whole world. They were a pure chosen people, destined to found a new race, and a new life, to renew and purify the earth, but no one had seen these men, no one had heard their words and their voices.”

Pedge's Bookshop The Epilogue

Grab a Latte! lounge around in the foyer with this RPF fic "Between the Pages and Us" by @andy-15-07 before heading into The Bookshop!

Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, PTSD/anxiety attack,/nightmare, MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", foreshadowing for LOU Season 2, pregnancy, not really smut but a lot of romance...Gosh, I didn't want this series to end, I think I was stalling a little...(series completion)

Series Masterlist

Words: 6k

Somehow you felt you had finally arrived. A lifetime of running, and you still had no earthly idea where you were going. But the events of the last few months had coalesced into a contentment that felt unbridled and dreamlike. You felt an odd pang of regret, recognizing the circumstances that had to occur to arrive at such a conclusion. But you almost didn’t care. Almost.

The often stoically minded Joel had softened himself for your benefit during this season of healing, and didn’t seem altogether bothered by the metamorphosis, however temporary it might be. He jokingly demanded all of his meals were spent in bed, so he could enjoy the luxury of having your supple body nestled beside him. A tenuous rapport had resumed with Ellie, particularly as she entertained a flirtation with a fellow commune resident named Dina. Under Joel’s feigned aloof tutelage, she endeavored to invite Dina to an upcoming dance to celebrate the Spring Harvest. But since her confession at the hospital, an unspoken apprehension had permeated the Miller household. It was as though the secret itself had tendrils of infection, moving into the nooks and crannies of an otherwise happy existence, and you found yourself wondering when the emotional dam might break.

There were so many aspects of life that were tenuous and fragile, and life could change at the flick of a switch. Sometimes, nearing the end of reading “Crime and Punishment” Joel’s baritone voice would trail off absentmindedly, as he read to you in bed. At first, you thought he had fallen asleep, but often discovered him starting darkly into the corners of the room, haunted by phantasms of the past you could never entirely understand. It often seemed that Joel was in an emotional prison of his own making, and his main solace in existence was the ever-present, anchoring support of his once again found family.

The both of you were still often plagued by nightmares, as you gathered bits and pieces of a life no longer lived. Joel’s stray, delirious comments about the horrors of the hospital, or impassioned plea to keep Sarah safe. Some of your nightmares were just as enigmatic; wrestling with Levi in a pit of snakes or running from infected that hounded you till you awoke in frightened disorientation. And Joel was always there. Grasping at your hands that were grabbing for purchase, shushing and pleading to remind you that you were safe. Somehow, his eyes would always find you in the dark, softly coaxing you back to the light. And you would hold one another, swaying from side to side or humming quiet melodies until the dawn arose. 

One recent commune expedition had brought back a guitar, and you were shocked to discover that Joel was a humble musical aficionado. It took quite a bit of convincing, but he had even started playing simple choruses, particularly at night when the stress of the day seemed to catch up with the entire family. Even Ellie seemed impressed as she took up the mantle of reading aloud, as you knitted in the living room. Though often besieged by Rascal the Cat and introspectively serenaded by Joel, it kept the nightmares at bay, with the dream-like quality of something from a book. And there wasn’t a moment you wanted to take for granted.

As the healing process continued there was thankfully a lot of work to be done. The Bookshop was nearing its final reveal, and as Joel’s health continued to improve, Maria was nearing her due date. Joel and Ellie had begun to take small trips to the Bookshop in preparation, and you had all but moved into the Miller residence full time. It was ridiculous to cite nursing duties, as returned to your teaching obligations full time. But the easy rapport and comradry you felt, not only with Joel, but with Ellie had started to wear away your well-developed armor. It was a new life. And part of you had to guiltily acknowledge Levi’s demise as a stepping stone to that contentment.

You didn’t know what to make of Levi’s final actions. It wasn’t a feeling of gratitude, but a sort of begrudging awareness that every journey has a price. Whether selling yourself to the highest bidder, or exacting emotional interest on a debt that required payment, there would always be a punishment for the crime. More and more, you wondered if that debt was housed in humanity or Divinity. Dostoyevsky seemed to have an understanding, but it seemed beyond your own machinations. All you knew was that you were currently reaping the benefits of a life well-lived, and whatever suffering the future held, you would encounter it; together. Levi was a distant part of your past that had reared its ugly head, and despite the current existential respite, a certain foreboding crept on the horizon. You just hoped you could be unafraid and meet it head on.

And so the days turned into weeks, and things began to resume a certain post-apocalyptic normalcy. School resumed, the spring harvest was well underway and the Bookshop was slated to officially open to the rest of the commune in a matter of weeks. In the interim, Tommy had successfully traded for more resources at Elk Creek and Joel was looking sturdier on his feet, even adding a beautiful mahogany coffee table to the cozy bookshop atmosphere. It wasn’t until Ellie came home one day after school that the darkening clouds of confrontation began to assemble.

“We’re havin’ a dinner” she began, under Joel’s watchful stare.

“What’dya mean ‘we’re havin’ a dinner’?” he parroted with suspicion, as you quietly prepared food in the background.

“I mean, Maria and Tommy came by The Bookshop while you were out and invited themselves over for dinner sometime” Ellie bluntly stated, shifting awkwardly. Joel cleared his throat authoritatively, mirroring her discomfort.  

“What for?” Joel questioned, his eyes narrowing skeptically.

“They said it was just to catch up on commune responsibilities, and see how you were doing. But you know how Maria is” Ellie observed. You felt the bristle of tension move through the kitchen as you stirred the evening stew.

“Maybe…you could invite Dina?” you offered, trying to lighten the mood before Joel and Ellie both vociferously objected.

“No (just) way (family)” their voices clashed aggressively as your eyebrows shot up with surprise. The kitchen deadened to an uncomfortable silence.

“I…kind of expected them to come by…sooner…” you trailed off, hesitant to voice everyone’s concern. Tommy’s presence in the hospital had been unrelenting, and you didn’t doubt their current intentions for a millisecond. But Maria was besieged with plans for the upcoming delivery and commune responsibilities. And Ellie’s confession…

“Just say it” Ellie proffered bitterly. “It’s my fault”.

“Absolutely (FIDDLESTICKS!) not” this time you and Joel cascaded in a heap of protestations. The silence awkwardly returned.

“Fiddlesticks?” Ellie coyly smirked, tilting her head towards Joel jokingly. You heaved a sigh of relief, chuckling under your breath.

“I TOLD you to tell ‘em” Joel encouraged, nodding his head defiantly. “Didn’t say it was gonna be easy though”. The pots of food bubbled precariously on the stove, much like the pressurized conversation. “Alright, tell ‘em to come over tomorrow night” Joel said definitively glancing in your direction.

“No bramble berry wine this time” you wisely observed, returning to your dinner tasks. This reunion was long overdue, and there was nothing to fear. Just time with family. Your newfound family. Nothing to worry about. But as you and Joel plated the prepared dinner, you couldn’t help but wonder; what newfound challenges were the three of you headed into this time?

Joel hugged you against his side tightly, nestled comfortably in the darkened bedroom. Ellie had already gone to sleep upstairs, and with your leg hung loosely over Joel’s legs you sighed contentedly as his mellifluous voice lulled you into a pleasant drowsiness.

“And yet he was ashamed, even before Sonia, whom he tortured because of it with his contemptuous brought manner. His pride had been stung to the quick. It was wounded pride that made him ill. Oh how happy he would have been if he could’ve blamed himself. He could have borne anything the, even shame and disgrace. But he judged himself severely. Vague and objectless anxiety in the present, and in the future a continual sacrifice leading to nothing—that was all the play before him. What had he to live for? What had he to look forward to? Why should he strive? To live in order to exist? Why? He had been ready a thousand times before to give up existence for the sake of an idea, for hope, even for a fancy. Perhaps it was just because of the strength of his desires that he had thought himself a man to whom more was permissible than to others. He suffered too from the question; why had he not killed himself? Was the desire to live so strong and was it so hard to overcome it? In misery he asked himself this question and could not understand. He didn’t understand that consciousness might be the promise of a future crisis, of a new view of life and of his future resurrection.”

Joel paused to remove his reading glasses and scratched at a small scar you had noticed, situated just to the side of his face. You delicately reached up to stroke it, but his head jerked away as his hand swatted your attentions to the side. It was uncharacteristically curt of him, and your body crumpled aside him with embarrassment. He turned to look at you apologetically, his lips tightening to a narrow line of reticence.

“I’m fine. Don’t need your nursin’ anymore…” he attempted to explain, but the words only seemed to seep into your skin with a heavy poison. You drew your body away from him in confusion as he dropped the book to bring you back to his side. “Wait. I didn’t mean that” he whispered, dipping his head to the crook of your neck, his beard bristling at the tender skin of your decoupage. You giggled quietly, pleased that the misunderstanding was short-lived. There were still many unseen scars that might never completely heal, but you were thankful to be with a man like Joel who didn’t shy away from the ones you also possessed. You didn’t have long to think about it, as Joel’s lips dragged achingly slowly across your neck and nibbled at your jawline. “Enjoyin’ the final chapter of ‘Crime and Punishment’” he teased, mumbling into your breastbone, as his hands found their way to your backside, squeezing gently.

“Oh absolutely…” you drawled, gripping him tightly against you and drawing your fingers across his back seductively. “It’s so visceral, I don’t remember the epilogue being so alluring when I read it in college” you joked, feeling Joel’s body titter with laughter against you. 

“Must be the company” he smiled, looking lovingly into your eyes. You reached up to stroke his face sweetly.

“What are we gonna do about the dinner?” you sighed, the sudden intake of air signifying his trepidation as much as your own.

“Don’t know” Joel bluntly stated, leaning back on his side of the bed and looking up at the ceiling. He took your hand, interlacing your fingers with his own as you both lay still in the quiet bedroom. “Maria doesn’t know….everything” he began, the bed creaking awkwardly under his shifting weight. “Nobody really does”. You held your breath tentatively, as though waiting for permission. There had been so many indicators of a tension unresolved; a type of secret that was infecting even the healthiest of relationships and desires.

“Something at the hospital?” you whispered, longing to press Joel further, but hesitant to force the matter. Joel’s head shifted quickly in your direction, as though telepathically imploring you to clairvoyantly understand. The moments passed laboriously slow, as an old wooden clock ticked loudly in the corner. You drew Joel’s hand to your heart, breathing quietly as you looked into his eyes. “You saved her” you recounted from Joel’s previous delirium, his eyes closing abruptly in remembrance. A pained look crossed his features as you waited patiently.

“That day…in the hospital….with the Fireflies…” Joel began, as though dragging the words through the mud with every suffering syllable. “We lost so much on the journey to bring her back…” he observed, thinking about Tess, and Sam and so many others on their meandering sojourn. “Ellie wanted her immunity…to help others. To save us all….” Joel opened his eyes once again, a newfound tear cascading down the side of his face as he turned to meet your gaze. “But if I had known I was deliverin’ her to death’s door, I never woulda stopped runnin’” he confessed, gripping your hand tenaciously in his own.

“But the raiders, they attacked you. You saved her. Even if she’s immune, there are others. Let others worry about it…” you remembered from Ellie’s description at Joel’s bedside. What part of the story were you missing? Your voice hung questioningly in the silence as Joel swallowed dryly under the heat of your stare.

“What if I told you….” he paused, shuddering slightly on the next inhale “…there weren’t no raiders at the hospital that day?”. You blinked confusedly, eyeing him with skepticism.  Joel sighed heavily, as though battling a silent war within himself. The clock’s ticking thudded in dull, oppressive strokes as you watched his shoulders tighten in immeasurable tension. He brought his hand tiredly over his face, rubbing at his temples and scowling with indecision. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. He looked like he was going to be sick, and you wondered if his wound had in fact healed properly, or if he were nursing another fever. He drew in a shaky breath to steady himself before muttering, “Can’t keep this secret anymore….s’gonna kill me. Or kill Ellie in the process…” his voice cracked, steeling himself for the long overdue confession.

“The Fireflies nearly killed her at the hospital that day” he whispered raspily, shaking his head from side to side. “Wasn’t gonna let nobody hurt my girl…not again” he said, almost to himself, as you tried to grapple with this new information. You bit your lip in consternation, trying to assemble the details as Joel laid them out.

“They tried to….extract her immunity, and apparently her life was a small price to pay for it” he pleaded with you finally, wringing your hand between his own in supplication. Your eyes widened with awareness as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. “So I killed ‘em. I killed them all”. You mouth fell open in surprise, finally processing Joel’s many enigmatic reactions over the last several months. He was a murderer. You were in love with a murderer. 

Joel seemed to sense your growing apprehension as he pulled back slightly in self-revulsion. “There aren’t no others. It’s just her that’s immune. And Ellie doesn’t know”. Your breath seemed to stop with trepidation, as he nearly collapsed back against the headboard with exhaustion. A myriad of thoughts were pummeling you into disorientation, but Joel was the anchor holding you in place. You gripped his hand more tightly, cupping his face with your other palm, watching his lips tremble apologetically. “Wouldn’t change a damn thing” he muttered over and over again, as you flung yourself into his arms. No one could know. For Joel’s sake. For Ellie’s sake. For your own. The only possible redemption resided in this secret confession, but that’s as far as it could be allowed. The only other thing that remained was to suffer in silence. And so that’s what you did. For the rest of the night, you held one another in the silence of that horrible realization. Ellie was immune. And she was alone. But there wasn’t a damn thing that could be done about it.

The next morning passed wordlessly as the Miller household was submerged in a state of tension. Ellie was appropriately worried about the upcoming dinner, but you and Joel held the suspension of disbelief, knowing the additional gravity of the situation. Maria was a bloodhound when it came to the truth, territorially motivated by the continued survival of the commune, and viscerally impassioned with the upcoming birth of her child. After Ellie’s hospital confession, the five of you held a special connection that seemingly surpassed that of bloodlines and family, but would that information be enough to leave things as they were? You spent the day, avoiding Ellie’s stare in class, and rushing home to prepare the simple dinner. 

Before you knew it, dusk was upon you as you observed Tommy and Maria slowly making their way across the blossoming field, leading up the Miller household. You felt your stomach anxiously lurch, suddenly wishing that you and Joel had discussed a plan of action. But for better or worse, the conversation was now imminent as Tommy and Maria approached the landing. Ellie looked like she was standing in front of a firing squad, pressing her plaid shirt staunchly against her rigid body. Joel make quick eye contact with you, as he crossed the living room and opened the door to their overt smiles.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Tommy immediately intoned, bursting through the door and embracing his brother strongly. Joel winced, ever so slightly, his abdominal wound mostly healed, but the surrounding muscles tender and sensitive. Maria patted her stomach empathically, rounding the corner and immediately catching Ellie in a somewhat stilted, but well-intentioned embrace. “I’m starving!” Maria enthusiastically exclaimed, though you secretly wondered if there were an ulterior agenda to the evening’s discussion. You finished setting the table, and enjoyed a round of placated small talk; recent trade at Elk Creek, the upcoming Spring Harvest Dance, preparation for Maria’s upcoming delivery. The banter began to die down as the conversation turned to more pressing matters.

“Joel, how have you been feeling this last month?” Maria began, innocently enough, but the shift in the mood was apparent.

“I hate to say it, but my resident nurse has proven real helpful…” Joel smiled, a tinge of distrust flickering across his eyes that only you were privy to, as he took your hand with encouragement. “I’ll be ready for patrols, as soon as you give the word” he offered, nodding succinctly, hoping to end the conversation there.

“About time to get your sorry ass back out in the field” Tommy joked, attempting to lighten the mood. “Try not to get killed this time” he teased, kicking his brother’s foot good-naturedly under the dinner table.

“And what about you, Ellie?” Maria’s voice gained a syrupy sweetness that immediately brought Levi to mind. What was her intent? “How have you been feeling since our….discussion at the hospital?” Joel’s hand immediately stiffened in yours, his head whipping over to Ellie watchfully.

“I’m ready for patrols too!” Ellie chirped, gripping the table energetically. “Joel can tell you, I’m real capable with a knife, or a gun…” she beamed, as Joel bit back a protective reprimand.

“Oh no, I think you’re far too valuable to risk out on patrol” Maria ventured, under Tommy’s imploring gaze. “It’s not every day you meet someone with immunity” she tried to observe matter-a-factly before Joel slammed his fist in to the dinner table abruptly.

“Goddamit Maria, now you know that’s not up for discussion!” Joel spat, his body becoming a taut representation of feral rage. Maria gripped her swollen belly protectively as Tommy shifted in his seat with embarrassment. 

“It’s just family, Joel” Tommy quietly intoned, nodding in your direction. “Right, Teach? Just hear her out for a sec’” he pleaded, drawing a hand to Maria’s back affectionately as Joel attempted to calm down. The water in the nearby pitcher was still sloshing from side to side as the table sat in relative unease.

“What do you wanna know?” Ellie muttered, her face becoming stoic and steely under Maria’s hopeful countenance.

Maria didn’t hesitate a moment, as month’s of pent up inquisition and curiosity tumbled out of her mouth haphazardly. “Well, you said you were immune, and there were others that shared that ability. But you haven’t found a way to share that immunity? Have you tried a blood transfusion? What about studying your DNA?”

“Maria” Joel growled as he fisted the tablecloth, threatening to upset the entire dinner table this time.

“Honey, can’t we just let sleeping dogs lie?” Tommy beseeched his wife, lowering his gaze to the floor with humiliation.

“I’m just asking a question, Tommy” she bitterly retorted. “Don’t you want your baby to grow up in a commune that’s safe, and protected from EVERY horror this world has to offer?”. She took a deep breath and rested her attention on Ellie once again. “Well, honey, what’ve you got to say for yourself?” 

Ellie’s face nearly curled in a snarl, sensing Joel’s brimming rage and your helplessness in the face of the truth. “It’s no use” she began, holding Maria’s gaze with an unflinchingly cold stare. “I’ve lost countless people that my immunity could never save. Riley, Tess, Sam….None of it made any difference. I was stupid to think the Fireflies could do better. But Joel will tell you. We tried everything, and when that didn’t work, the raiders came and destroyed everything and everyone that got in their way. I’m no damn good to the people I love. Just another god-forsaken human in this shit-show of an existence. And it doesn’t matter if that baby lives to grow old, he better learn to take care of himself, because he won’t be gettin’ any goddam help from the world around him”.  Maria’s face fell with disappointment, nodding slightly with acceptance as Tommy took her hand encouragingly. You bit back a sob, hearing Ellie’s bleak outlook on life in this post-apocalyptic hell. Joel could never tell her the truth about that day. She was already so alone, his apparent betrayal would only serve to isolate her further still. Ellie MUST be kept alive. Looking over at Joel’s graying visage, you wished it didn’t come at such a high cost.

“So that’s it” Maria muttered, touching her belly lightly, her eyes still lowered to the ground. “Joel, are you sure you’re not hiding anything else?” she asked one final time, fixing him with an interrogative stare. You held your breath with anticipation as the room caught Joel in a heated stare. Maria would NOT back down. Either her desperation was so intense or her maternal nature was in intuitive overdrive, it seemed only a force of nature would deter her at this point.

“Well, I guess you caught me…” Joel began, drawing your concern and Ellie’s questioning eyes in one fell swoop. This couldn’t be. You had to stop him from undoing the most difficult choice he had ever made in his life. 

“Teach and I are plannin’ on gettin’ married”.

Your mouth dropped open in surprise, squeezing his hand so hard you wondered if he would need to revisit the doctor that evening. “Joel, are you sure?” the words fell out of your mouth as Ellie reverted back to a teenager of 17 years, giggling and clapping her hands enthusiastically, and Tommy began to beam broadly in periphery.

“Still workin’ on the wedding present, but yeah, I figure if you can put up with me and Ellie for the last several months, ya might be worth keepin’ around for good” Joel’s mouth curled in a mischievous grin as you sat yourself firmly on his lap, hugging him assuredly around the neck for good measure.

“Well I’ll be damned!” Tommy exclaimed, clapping his brother heartily on the shoulder and catching Maria’s knowing expression.

“I told you there was something he was hiding” Maria slowly mused, sighing with relief, and giving Ellie’s arm a soft squeeze of approval as a peace offering. You looked into Joel’s eyes searching for the smallest amount of doubt or hesitation, but found none there. It was something beyond your dreams, that even seemed to quell your nightmares. It was home.

Rascal the Cat sniffed awkwardly at every visitor, as the The Bookshop’s normally quiet atmosphere radiated light and love, the residents of Jackson Commune pouring in throughout the day. Joel stood behind the counter, stoically surveilling, but approachable nonetheless. His arms were folded neatly over his broad chest with skepticism, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, watching families and children make their way around the neatly organized and homey Bookshop. You and Ellie were on social duty, guiding families to the appropriate sections, the corner wood burning stove currently out of use as the Spring season began to thaw everything around it. You looked over at Joel whose statuesque stare was already beaming at your welcoming and warm presence. You could never have imagined this chain of events that first day you walked into his bookshop.

The Bookshop Bell rang jauntily as Tommy sauntered in with a fresh bouquet of lavender, immediately catching your eye and heading towards you. You finished your conversation with a nearby family as Tommy caught you in a familial embrace. “How are the plans comin’ Teach?” you admired the small freckles dotting his cheeks and mischievous sparkle in his eyes that reminded you of Joel. You’d never had a brother, but you were pretty sure this is what it felt like.

“Gosh, I haven’t even stopped to think!” you admitted, brushing a stray hair out of your face and grinning at the children that were good-naturedly chasing Rascal around the biographies section. “Honestly, a wedding ceremony is the last thing on my mind! We’ve got Spring evaluations for the students and I’m helping Ellie organize the Harvest Dance. But at least The Bookshop is finally up and running, and Joel can get back on patrol soon. What about you? How’s Maria?”

“Oh she insisted I leave her alone this afternoon, and sends her regards” Tommy handed you the bouquet, sheepishly tugging at the back of his neck with humility. “She’s just about to pop, and I think I’m driving her more nuts than usual” he confessed, squeezing your arm affectionately. “Just wanted to say, thanks for all your help around the commune, and gettin’ my elderly brother to soften up a little. Welcome to the family!” he leaned in conspiratorially as Joel eyed him suspiciously from the corner. “Don’t tell everyone what a big ole softie he actually is…”. You knowingly smiled, catching Joel’s inquiring gaze that immediately spread into a shit-eating grin. You hadn’t seen that look in a while, and you breathed a sigh of relief enjoying the settling Spring recreation. Maybe everything was going to be just fine. Tommy headed over to the front counter as Ellie caught your attention from the Classic Literature Section.

“Hey Teach, have you ever heard of a book called something like….The Miserables?” Ellie grimaced, skeptical at its existence.

“Les Miserables?” you pondered, glancing at the backroom. “Uhhh…does the musical count?”

Tommy lumbered up to the front counter as Joel finally melted from his stolid, sentry-like visage, relaxing under his brother’s sunshine countenance. “You old dog” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, looking around The Bookshop appraisingly. “I hate to say it, but….you done good. This is just what the commune needs, and seems like you got the best part of the deal” he watched you and Ellie disappear into the backroom, laughing together. “Ya gonna get her a ring?” his eyes twinkled sweetly, reaching over for Joel’s unfinished coffee and taking a swig, wincing at its potent bitterness.

“Not sure you noticed but we’re kinda in an apocalypse right now?” Joel huffed, defiantly placing his hands on his hips, and matching Tommy’s mischief. “HOWEVER, if you’ll put me back on patrols I can get to bartering for it” he gruffly stated. “Already got a wedding present. Do you want me build a city hall and get the appropriate paperwork while I’m at it?” he grabbed the coffee from Tommy’s hand and downed it in one gulp amidst Tommy’s chortling.

“I’m just glad to see you so happy again” Tommy acquiesced, looking around The Bookshop and nodding with encouragement. “Wasn’t but a few months ago, I was starting to think my brother right near lost his mind. Damn, you had me wonderin’ if you were joining up with the raiders, or vying for the Fireflies”. Joel’s eyes flashed a dangerous shade of black before his face returned to a jovial skepticism. “But all that time, you were just fixin’ to get married” Tommy teased. “How’s about some brotherly advice? Doesn’t seem near appropriate for this soon to be dad askin’ about Playboy magazine” his ears tinged a slight shade of red. “How’s about Home and Gardens? Or Women’s Health?” he balked, chewing at his lower lip. Joel heavily clapped a hand on his back looking over at Ellie affectionately.

“We’ll get you fixed up” he surmised. He hadn’t but circled the counter when a young man came running down the commune square, flinging open the door to The Bookshop with the telltale ringing of the doorbell. 

“Tommy, come quick! Maria already went to the infirmary after her water broke…and is screaming bloody murder! I ran as fast as I could…but you might nearly be a dad already!” he gasped between bouts of coughing and sputtering as the color completely drained from Tommy’s face and a tavern-like cheer went up in The Bookshop.

“Holy hell” Tommy muttered, standing still in paralysis, like a man sleepwalking until Joel shoved him towards the door.

“Ellie, get this man over to the infirmary before he damn near falls over” Joel beamed, gesturing for Ellie, and sending the three of them towards the door in a bumbling, talkative heap as you sidled up beside him. 

“Come on ‘Uncle Tommy’ you look like you’re about to lose your lunch!” Ellie joked, grabbing Tommy’s arm and driving him forward. “Say, do you know why one Father’s Day gift wasn’t better than another?” Joel rolled his eyes as Ellie wheeled Tommy out the door. “A tie. It was a tie” she guffawed, pulling Tommy down the street and towards his future, bright and beautiful.

The Bookshop twinkled with congratulations and laughter as families plotted on what to barter for their upcoming “purchases”. Taking Joel’s hand in yours you eyed the three of them stumbling down the commune square towards the infirmary and grinned with satisfaction.

“You know she would do anything for you” you mused, leaning against Joel’s body and sighing with contentment.

“I feel the same way” Joel agreed, smiling tiredly. “But she’s near grown up now. Won’t need me no more” he introspected wearily as Rascal the Cat looped himself around Joel’s ankles.

“Well, some of us still need you” you nuzzled his shoulder fondly as Joel turned, backing you up into one of the nearby bookshelves.

“Joel…” you whispered shyly, looking around The Bookshop with chagrin and remembering your first meeting with nostalgia.

“M’I not allowed to kiss my ‘soon-to-be-wife?” his cheeks flushed brightly as he gazed lovingly into your eyes.

“Fine by me” you smirked, digging your hands in to the front pockets of Joel’s jeans and eliciting a low, chuckle from his towering figure that was caging you in. “You know, it’s okay if that was a red herring or something” you deflected, admiring the swirling depths of feeling in Joel’s nearby shining eyes.

“How’s that?” Joel mumbled into your clavicle as you gripped him possessively around the neck, crumpling your body against him and blushing.

“Oh you know what I mean…If that was just to detour Maria, or if you have second thoughts, I’m not going anywhere” you mumbled before Joel pulled back to look deep into your eyes.

“Not havin’ second thoughts” he blunted stated before planting a searing kiss on your imploring lips that seemed to deaden the chaos in The Bookshop to a single pin prick of loving light. It was quite some time before the sound of the surrounding atmosphere trickled back into your hearing, as your eyes remained closed in a dizzying haze of romantic ebullience. Your eyelids finally fluttered open as Joel watched you keenly, placing both hands aside your face. He looked like he was about to kiss you again before his eyes darted up to the small metallic indentation in the bookshelf just above your head. “Well I’ll be damned” he whispered, digging a small bullet out of the corner and holding it in front of your face with some confusion.

“Expect the unexpected” you drolled, fitting your hips against his playfully.

“Come with me, Teach” Joel teased, pocketing the bullet and pulling you into the backroom. “Rascal, mind the store” he called behind him, meeting the cat’s quizzical expression. “Was gonna save this for our weddin’ night, but sounds like someone needs a little assurance” Joel said over his shoulder as he rummaged around his work space in the back. You enjoyed the fragrant smell of wood chips, coffee and tattered books, silently cataloguing the many resources you had yet to organize.

“S’just a start” he reddened, presenting a chiseled, hand made set of bookends labeled ‘His’ and ‘Hers’ in his outstretched hands before you threw yourself into his embrace.

“How long have you been working on this?” you giggled, seeing his copy of “Crime and Punishment” nearby at this desk.

“‘Bout as long as I’ve been workin’ on weddin’ vows” he grimaced, shaking his head from side to side. “Probably need to set the bar low, Teach” he self-deprecated, shrugging sheepishly.

“Is that your next homework assignment?” you taunted, picking up the book and turning to the most recent dog eared page. Joel took the book from your hands, clearing his throat timidly.

“Just tryin’ to learn from the best” he mused, reading aloud;

“How it happened, he did not know. But all at once something seemed to seize him and fling him at her feet. He wept and threw his arms round her knees. At the same moment she understood, and a light of infinite happiness came into her eyes. She knew and had no doubt that he loved her beyond everything and that at last the moment had come. They wanted to speak, but could not; tears shone in their eyes. They were renewed by love; the heart of each held infinite sources of life for the heart of the other. What terrible suffering and what infinite happiness before them! But he had risen again and he knew it and felt it in all his being. He knew with what infinite love he would now repay all her sufferings. And what were all the agonies of the past? Everything, even his crime, seemed to him now in the first rush of feeling an external, strange fact. Life had stepped into the place of theory and something quite different would work itself out in his mind. Under his pillow lay Sonia’s Bible, it was the one from which she had read the raising of Lazarus to him. He did not open it now, but one thought passed through his mind; “Can her convictions not be mine now? Her feelings, her aspirations at least…”. He did not know that the new life would not be given him for nothing, that he would have to pay dearly for it; that it would cost him great striving, great suffering. But that is the beginning of a new story-the story of the gradual renewal of a man, the story of his gradual regeneration, of his passing from one world to another, of his initiation into a new unknown life. That might be the subject of a new story, but our present story is ended.”

Joel’s raspy voice trailed off, now lost in the curious expression of your eyes that danced with a newfound light. “A new story…” you whispered quietly, drawing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tender kiss.

A new story.

Dostoyevsky + the Slutty Knee

A big thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I really feel like I'm making progress with my health journey, but it's super slow going. The main thing that is keeping me creatively motivated is my art projects! I'm working on the final fiction for our "Crime and Punishment" series at Pedge's Bookshop, just in time for "The Last of Us Season 2". Don't forget to check out Joel's Jives if you would like the full participatory experience.

I think our next foray is going to be a one shot with Pena and J revolving around Pedro's recommendation, "What Happened to Belen?". And don't forget to check out our first fic for Pedge's Cinema "The Trailer" when Javi and J first meet. Grab your popcorn first however, the opening scene of "All About Eve" is soon to be started.

“Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most.” “–and suddenly, in the midst of my laughing, I’d give way to sadness, fall into ludicrous despondency and once again start the whole process all over again

“You never reach any truth without making mistakes. Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I'll kiss you for it. And what are we doing now? In science, development, thought, invention, ideals, aims, liberalism, judgment, experience and everything, everything, everything, we are still in the preparatory class at school. We prefer to live on other people's ideas, it's what we are used to! Am I right?” “Break what must be broken, once for all, that's all, and take the suffering on oneself.” “Fling yourself straight into life, without deliberation; don’t be afraid - the flood will bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again.” “What do you think, would not one tiny crime be wiped out by thousands of good deeds?”

@littlemisspascal @wannabe-urs

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva

@wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya 

@schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 

@joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave 

@copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita

@harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @zaniasky @quicax3

My Darling Muse, My Darling Dieter (iii)

Dieter is in LOVE. He's just not sure if he's met them yet. But in the interim, he's keeping a journal to house all of his inspiration, poetry and recipes, before they fly out of his head. And once he meets the ONE...or ONES...this is going to be his gift to you. Along with those sexy time IOU's he's always handing out. Love this post @for-a-longlongtime, and inspired by the @auteurdelabre Trope-Off (Dieter Bravo/Pen Pals)...

Trigger: it's Dieter bub so this series will DEFINITELY include profanity, drugs, alcohol, sex, smut and any meanderings D wants...He's endlessly inspired by art, poetry, songs, sex and YOU! Workplace vibes...

Dieter's Art Studio

My Darling Dieter,

Oh silly muffin! I was so excited to receive your postcard and hear more about your spiritual sojourn! I know you are doing research for your reawakening, but I still miss you terribly and our intimate spongebaths. Be sure to keep all your sketches limited to postcards and not the originals....Yours, J

My Darling Dieter,

Racoon! Your travels sound absolutely amazing, it will be just the thing to take your mind off of awards season. YOU are the true gift! My Darling, is it just me or are some of these pictures a bit....erotic? I definitely recognize the artist, but I can't quite put my finger on it....Love, J

My Darling Dieter,

Oh my! My neighbors are fantastically scandalized as they keep intercepting your postcards and complaining about their content. I told them IT'S ART!!! Although, I'm not 100% sure if these images are being displayed in their purest form. Sweet D, I think you've taken some artistic liberties... Yours, J

My Darling Dieter,

There is something about these pieces I can't stop looking at. I find myself drawn into a void-like, dreaming state, thinking about you Mr. Darling D. I think they might be flowers of some kind! But I find them very erotically charged! I can't seem to concentrate on anything else! Are you coming home soon? Who is Georgia? Should I be jealous? Love, J

My Darling Dieter,

Need you. Come home now. J.

Hey folks! This is J, Dieter’s PA. The year has been a challenging one, as Dieter has successfully checked himself out of rehab and has embarked on a spiritual journey of artistic expression! I am sad to report that his holiday special, Cliff Beasts 6 1/2; Hannukah Hijinks, was completely snubbed by the Oscars this awards season, so we indulged in many a sponge bath to recouperate. I myself am experiencing some health challenges, and can't accompany D on his exciting embarkation, so he's promised to send postcards from his travels as I attempt to figure out "Where is D?". He keeps mentioning Georgia, so I think he might be in Atlanta, but it's anyone's guess. I've just received his most recent postcard and he's promised to be home any minute! Gotta go! Where will D be next?

*I'm afraid D has taken HORRIBLE liberties with the classic artwork of Georgia O' Keeffe, but I would encourage anyone to view their work in New Mexico and research their stellar artistic contributions and creative friendships with the likes of Frida Kahlo, Ansel Adams and Agnes Martin.

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

Pedge's Cinema The Trailer

Concessions Stand @iamasaddie is getting us ready for a true snack! See some of the fics we are going to be covering with Javi this awards season...

Triggers: profanity, alcohol consumption, lite flirtation, disastrous attempts at Italian, easy peezy we're just getting started...

Words: 2.6k

The landlady handed you an archaic looking key that was easily the size of a small brick. You half expected her to give you bottles that said “eat me” and “drink me” in Italian, but she merely snickered tossing her hands up with exasperation. “Idiota americano!” she muttered, not wholly under her breath, closing the ornate door behind her, leaving you alone in the somewhat crumbling apartment.

Guess you didn’t need Google Translate after all.

You looked down at your myriad of belongings, heaped into two large suitcases, and the somewhat dilapidated but charmingly rustic Italian apartment that smiled before you. You had arrived. After about 15 hours and one too many espressos, you found yourself at your Italian residence, anxious to start your teaching internship, yet even more enthusiastic about taking a shower. Finding yourself in your mid-forties, embarking on a summer adventure of this scope seemed an implausibility, as you rubbed at your lower back wincingly. As you shuffled slowly down the narrow hallway, you were exponentially grateful for the study abroad program at the college you had recently gained tenure at. Things were finally starting to amount to professional and personal solidity, so why did you still feel so lost? The bumbling taxi drive hadn’t helped, as you felt for the stale bag of airplane peanuts in your pocket. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. You’d been working with students your entire life and we’re finally exploring the international ways to bring creative techniques to life. But maybe your artistic eyes were somehow bigger than your metaphorical stomach. What were you even doing here? You opened the first door on the left, expecting it to be the water closet and were greeted by the imploring eyes of….a pigeon.

A bona fide pigeon. You blinked back and forth at one another curiously until an unexpected shriek from you caused your temporary flat mate to flutter haphazardly around the room, seeking immediate solace through the nearby open window. Sigh. Expect the unexpected. And, no toilet paper. Obviously. You felt around your pocket for the discarded cocktail napkin. Score. You could do this. Your path might not be clear, but you had earned your summer of adventure. All that remained was to take full advantage of the opportunity, and try to enjoy yourself in the process. Besides, weren’t pigeons a sign of Italian good luck? Maybe they needed to poop on you first. Heading him off at the pass, you quickly locked the window for good measure, taking stock of your surroundings. The shower was a dubious looking pipe that awkwardly found its way to a free standing bath tub. The ceiling of the water closet hovered about two feet above you, as you finally expressed gratitude for your diminutive stature. Finally, being short was working to your advantage, once you figured out how to use the faucets. You returned to your quest, shuffling down the hallway to the first door on the right, finding a queen sized, decorative bed frame showcasing the boudoir and more open windows. Luckily, there was no flora, fauna or fowl this time, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the picturesque view. Dragging your fingers lazily across the veil-like linens you gazed at the idyllic panorama before you. As though mirroring your cinematic dreams, the small Italian town stretched out before you, a winding fantasy of artisan shops, coffee, clotheslines and cobblestone.

What a view. Maybe you weren’t so lost after all.

Savoring the afternoon air, you sat cautiously on the pillowy mattress, a very thin layer of particle dust billowing in the sunlight. But nothing could stop you, as you nestled into the linens for your first nap. Any pigeons were welcome to join you.

A blurry feeling of disorientation greeted you, along with a melodic Italian argument, punctuated by puttering vespas. You blinked lazily at the dusky horizon, propping yourself up on your forearms. Your stomach immediately gurgled in response. You had given yourself several days to acclimate to your new Italian environment, before attending classes and symposiums, but hadn’t really considered what your first order of business would be. The stale bag of peanuts was holding little appeal, so you willed yourself out of bed and into the bathroom to tidy up. The apartment was slightly dilapidated and breezy, but the summer charm was already beginning to work its magic. You laid out your wardrobe on the bed before enjoying a luxurious shower, gazing forebodingly at the ceiling, as though it were about to crash down upon you. Just some getting used to. You looked around the small kitchenette, but only found a teaspoon of dried coffee grounds and what appeared to be some dried olives in the cabinet. Tomorrow’s task; find the nearest farmer’s market.

You had gone to inordinate lengths to make your phone internationally ready, but were already encountering difficulties. Other than a smattering of musical terms, you weren’t seriously proficient in Italian and were looking forward to honing your skills, as Duolingo had proven only conceptually effective. But that’s what this entire experience was about! Dipping your toes into the adventure of travel and mystery. You had tried to research this area of town, but could only find the local cinema listings which seemed to feature at least one movie in English. Clutching your chatty stomach with annoyance you slipped into a silky blouse and comfortable jeans. Stop overthinking and head out the door! Grab your Alice in Wonderland sized key and start exploring, woman! Smiling to yourself with chagrin, you checked for your Euro, passport and key, took a deep breath and closed the front door behind you. Ciao Bella!

It had been several decades since you had been to Italy, but your memory did not disappoint. Floating down the cobblestone streets, you were once again thankful to be wearing sneakers as you gazed at the nonnas bringing in their dried laundry and shouting at one another across the way. You were sure you stuck out like a sore thumb as you used your cell phone as a divining rod to arrive at the local cinema art house, patting yourself on the back. Surprised to discover your very limited geographical intuitions had actually served you, as you noticed the only English Film available blazing against the darkening sky;

PADDINGTON 2.

Alright, it wasn’t “La Dolce Vita”, but you were determined to give your stale packet of peanuts a run for its money, if this Italian cinema had anything resembling the Western definition of a snack. As per usual, the Italians were eons ahead of the United States, offering a sampling of pasta, wine and confections, which you unabashedly stocked up on. You sheepishly entered the small movie house, balancing an array of popcorn, snacks and wine, the latter of which was offered from a soda-like dispenser. Your international travels were already getting off to a GREAT start. You gazed around the room appraisingly, surprised to discover that you had the movie house COMPLETELY to yourself. 

Bellisima.

Indulgently plopping down in the absolute center of the room, you nearly squealed like a little girl when the projector clicked to life and the room darkened in response. This was only partially stifled when another figure peripherally entered your vision and began ascending the stairs. You weren’t overly concerned. Having visited Italy nearly 20 years ago, you had received more than your fair share of attention, but now, at 45 you were fairly certain you could blend into the background. It wasn’t until the curious stranger sat in the seat next to you that you glanced sideways with slight annoyance. Your heart immediately dropped at the sight of the standard Italian god that greeted you; well coifed, colorful, a curly mop of hair gelled into submission and a potent, but not disagreeable cologne that mixed with the heady smell of buttered popcorn. You weren’t sure why he had selected the seat immediately next to yours, but were momentarily distracted by his matching box of indulgent snacks. His face broke into an immediate grin as a handful of popcorn fell into your lap with his jostling.

“Popcorn, principessa?” he muttered, jamming a handful into his own mouth and licking the butter from his fingertips playfully. In another lifetime, you might have been irritated, but there was something immediately disarming about this man’s demeanor. You stalled, at the realization that he might not be Italian after all. Thankful he couldn’t view your blushing cheeks, you sputtered, 

“Oh I’m all set!” before wondering if he spoke English, and then realizing he was in the same movie as you. “Uh…par…parlare inglese?” you bumbled, spilling some Golia licorice into his lap in turn and grabbing at them haphazardly before flushing a dark shade of pink. “Scusi…”.

“Si!” he blurted out before wiping his hand embarrassingly over his face with chagrin. “I mean, yes!” He awkwardly grabbed your hand, shaking it emphatically and spilling still more popcorn over the floor and both of you. You both laughed good-naturedly as the movie was preceded by several Italian commercials you didn’t understand.  Settling into the gravitas of the cinematic experience, you quietly chewed your snacks, attempting to be demurely polite, but quite frankly you were starving. You were also immediately charmed by your unexpected movie date, as he uproariously laughed at the smallest jokes, nodding in agreement at the the most poignant dialogue. The snacks eventually discarded in satiation, you hadn’t expected the well of emotion towards the end of the movie, but that was nothing compared to your seat-mate. He was sobbing vociferously, his body quaking with emotion, when you finally reached over to tentatively pat him on the shoulder comfortingly.

“I…fucking…LOVE…this…movie…” he sniffled, between big gulps of air as you smiled knowingly to yourself. God, European men were so much more beautifully emotive than some of their Western counterparts. No wonder you had found yourself currently single in the States. You chanced a quick look at his left hand and found his wedding ring finger unoccupied, but internationally, did that even mean anything? Come on, woman, this isn’t “Only You”; get a grip. Just enjoy your new friendship and move on. You swiped at a few stray tears of your own before the lights gradually increased, leaving you both alone in the lightened movie house.

“Is that not the BEST movie you have ever seen? Without cinematic film star, Nicholas Cage, of course…” he oddly presumed, staring at you with saucer shaped eyes of warmth, a slight tinge of red dotting his cheeks at the corners.

“Uh…well, yes. Quite good, Much more emotional than I was anticipating” you admitted, shuffling your feet awkwardly.

“I feel the same way. It made me want to be a better man. I would even place it above towering films of cinematic greatness like “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”….or maybe even “National Treasure 2”” he observed dryly, taking in your inquisitive expression.

“National Treasure 2?” you repeated dumbly, blinking with curiosity at the tenure of your conversation. Who the hell was this guy?

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly bore you with my encyclopedic knowledge of the greatest actor, and my personal friend, Nick Cage” he blushed shyly, rubbing at the back of his neck with humility.

“You know Nick Cage?” you brightened, stumbling upon a fellow afficianado. You worked with artists all the time and loved discussing the creative process. That was the exact reason for your internship.

“Do you know him as well?” he turned his body to more fully face you, the fragrance of cologne intoxicating you slightly in response.

“Oh…certainly not. But I know OF him, he’s quite talented, and eccentric I believe…” you started before he launched into a cinematic info. dump.

“I find his artistic choices to be quite outlandish, but in a very stylized and curated execution…” as he began to wax theatrical for the next 20 minutes. You tried to remain focused on his discussion points, but you were equally distracted by his animated and appealing aesthetic, as much as the lateness of the hour. It wasn’t until you stifled a yawn and shivered slightly that he paused in his information monologue with a look of lamentation. “Oh, principessa, you are quite tired of my ramblings. Please, may I walk you home?”. He stood impressively above you, holding out his hand in inquiry.

You cleared your throat with some embarrassment, as the wine fueled evening crawled up the back of your neck with a seductive tickle. “Oh, certainly mister….?” you inquired, stumbling ever so slightly to your feet as he grabbed you protectively around the waist.

“Javi! You can call me Javi!” he intoned. You weren’t sure, but you thought he brushed a small, affectionate circle at your lower back, turning you towards the exit and guiding your steps. You weren’t one hundred percent sure it was a good idea to lead this stranger right to your door step, but you were even less sure you could make it there on your own, the inefficient osmosis of popcorn and wine happily buzzing inside you. Jet lag didn’t help. But the streets of Italy were warm and inviting, as children continued to play late into the night, and old men sat smoking cigarettes and drinking grappa.

You wrapped your arm warmly around his as he gripped you solidly around the waist. The combination of wine, jet lag and cobblestone streets was proving a challenge, but your newfound friend didn’t seem inconvenienced. If anything, he kept chirping about his favorite movies and inquiring about your own theatrical tastes. It was like something out of a movie, and you decided to give in to the romantic idealism, however short lived it might be.

“This is me” you blinked lazily, arriving at your apartment and happy to return to your queen sized bed. And doubly grateful for your new and unexpected friendship. Javi.

Javi beamed, a dazzling smile dotting his face as you unlocked the door hesitantly. “What time can I call on you tomorrow?” his question immediately poked you in the stomach as you nearly tripped over your own doorway.

“Wh-what?” you sputtered, butterflies immediately erupting in your abdomen and cascading into your fluttering heart. He looked back at you curiously, as you swayed slightly in the night air. “Uh…noon please” you found yourself saying, equally delighted and confused at the surprising turn of events.

“Excellent, we can continue our cinematic discussion, and I will bring my screenplay for your perusal” he stated matter-a-factly before leaning in confidently and kissing you just to the side of your lips, which curled in delight. You blushed at the welcome bristle of his beard as it tickled your face, before he pulled back slightly and inhaled pointedly. “Buona notte, principessa” he whispered before purposefully turning and jaunting down the cobblestone street, his arms swinging happily from side to side, as he disappeared round the corner as quickly as he had entered your evening.

You stared after him, not entirely convinced he wasn’t some sort of cinematic illusion himself. It wasn’t until noon the next day, as you blearily considered the friendly knock at the door that the realization began to dawn on you. Squinting into the sunlight, you gulped dryly at his reappearance, two espressos in hand, as he stood once again, on your doorstep. He seemed to lustfully drink in your disheveled head of hair and naked legs which peeked from beneath the large white t-shirt you had haphazardly settled into before bed.

“Javi?” you rasped, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and smiling dopily. It seemed your cinematic dreams had temporarily come to life.

“Buongiorno, principessa!” Javi beamed, shoving the espresso emphatically into your hand and downing his own in one shot. “What movie are we seeing today?” he beamed, removing his glasses and smiling broadly.

This might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship….

*Thanks @dornish-queen for the cool footage!

@littlemisspascal @wannabe-urs

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva

@wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya 

@schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 

@joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave 

@copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita

@harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @zaniasky @quicax3

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....

Friendly Frankie

Ooooh, @auteurdelabre told me they are working on a SECOND coloring book for us!? I'm not even done with the first! An embarrassment of riches! I don't write for Frankie very often, but when I do...I seem to be gushing about it. If you're looking for something saucy, don't forget to check out my "Moody Frankie Fic". Coulda used him last night....Pair it with Frankie's Favorites for the full experience and enjoy :)

Pike's Picture

A huge thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book :) Pedge and I can be so grumpy sometimes. I had a GREAT day, but still find myself in an Eeyore state. But Pike is my guy, I KNOW he gets it.

Had a blast over the winter on @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope" challenge "Pike's Place" slow burn series. @inept-the-magnificent was a big help! But if you're like me, and feeling a little blue, head over to Pike's Place for a winter pick me.

In the interim, Pedge and I are going back to bed...

Pedge's Bookshop The Confession

Grab a Pastry! lounge around in the foyer with this sweet fic "A Baker's Dozen" @avastrasposts before heading into the Bookshop!

Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, implied PTSD/anxiety attack, MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", sexy time snuggles, discussion of death/murder/suicide, nightmare, surgery recovery...This is the second to last installment of the series, which should place us at the ready for the LOU April release...

Series Masterlist

Words: 3.5 k

The long trek home had taken just under an hour, including pauses for water and grumbles as Ellie rambled continuously.

“Hey Joel…” Ellie’s voice distractedly interrupted from the sidelines, as Joel huffed and puffed at his very own doorstep. “What’s the fastest mode of transportation?”. Joel gripped the porch stairs doggedly, as perspiration dotted his forehead and your fingers dug into the side of his hip supportively.

“Shut the hell up….” Joel growled, his patience long since evaporated as he stubbornly made the slow journey from the infirmary to his community residence.

“Guess it’s not you…” Ellie muttered under her breath, before shouting quite loudly, “The bullet train!” she guffawed, as Joel took several halting steps up the porch before yanking the front door open huffily. His heavy laden feet nearly caught the lip of the doorframe as you both lurched into the living room, eventually depositing Joel on the tattered living room sofa, with as much gentility as an avalanche. You knew it was important for Joel to hold on to his stoic self-belief, but his current physical limitations had all but depleted whatever reserves Joel housed. He was completely exhausted, and you were keen to help him start the healing process as soon as possible.

“Looks like you finally made it home, old man!” Ellie’s voice was a bit strained as she attempted to ignore her own insecurities about Joel’s fragile state. You smirked, knowing that her prodding was probably the best medicine for his combative soul. Maybe when things quieted down, you could offer the rest and relaxation Joel so desperately needed in contrast. “You seem barrel-y able to contain your excitement…get it? Barrel?” Ellie plopped down beside Joel on the couch eliciting a wince from his heated and pained expression.

“Jesus, Ellie I’ll be lucky if my stitches don’t rip, will ya give me a minute?” he grumbled, looking down at his abdomen tenderly, hesitant to examine the wrappings beneath his perspiration soaked flannel. It wasn’t everyday that a commune resident was recovering from surgery, let alone a gunshot wound, but after a week in the infirmary, Joel was nearly crawling out of his skin. Determined to go it alone, he had stubbornly refused a cane or wheeled transport of any kind, but had quickly ascertained the difficulty of his aspirations. Even with the commune’s significant stock of penicillin, it was going to prove a difficult month. He might have already done some damage, and he wasn’t even in his own bed yet. Joel gritted his teeth even harder.

“Sorry” Ellie finally quieted with a defeated tone. You reached up tenderly to wipe the sheen of sweat off his brow, as Joel closed his eyes tiredly, laying back slightly against the sofa. He was feeling every bit his 57 years, as a few stars dotted the periphery of his darkened vision. This might be something that tenacity alone couldn’t mend, and he would be grateful for all the help he could get, once he caught his breath. You watched Ellie’s countenance drop as the gravitas of the last week started to catch up to her. Joel remained unaware, so you offered a tight lipped encouragement from the other side of the couch. You would all get through this together. Some things just took time.

“I could go to the Tipsy Bison and get your favorite whiskey?” Ellie ventured, sitting up with the possibility of a task at hand. Joel smiled tiredly, his forehead already relaxing from the daunting escapades of the day.

“No way in hell they’ll give it to a kid…” his words slurred a bit as his body sank further into the couch.

“Wanna bet?” Ellie popped up jauntily from the couch, excited to put her pent up tension to beneficial use. “I’ll just tell ‘em we need it…medicinally…” as she headed out the door with confidence. You smirked with relief, glad to finally have Joel at home and resting for the entire month. The bullet hadn’t nicked any major arteries, and had avoided his organs, but the muscles were going to take at least a month to begin the mending process, and outside of antibiotics, there weren’t very many painkillers that the commune could offer. You were about to expand your expertise from teaching to nursing, and didn’t mind one bit. Joel’s breath steadied evenly in his chest as you delicately stroked his forehead and scalp soothingly. Content to stay there for the rest of the evening, you watched his face carefully for the next 15 minutes before his body jerked awake with newfound adrenaline. His eyes flashed with temporary disorientation before clasping your hand and holding it tightly to his chest.

“Had the worst nightmare…Somebody shot me, and Ellie wouldn’t shut up” he drawled, closing his eyes again and massaging your hand with affection. Leave it to Joel to be joking and taking care of other people, when he was the one in pain.

“Oh that would never happen…” you relaxed into the side of his body, tilting your head against his shoulder with ease. “Ellie is so soft spoken…” you teased, noticing the graying dusk of early evening begin to shadow against the living room window. “Think we can get up the stairs to bed, mister?” you questioned, giving a light kiss to the edge of his broad shoulder before catching his beleaguered and mischievous expression. 

“Thought you’d never ask, Teach.”

Certainly, this wasn’t the time to be indulging particularly fantasies in the bedroom, but you couldn’t help but eagerly anticipate the closeness this might provide for you and Joel. It took another 30 minutes to hesitantly ascend the stairs, but you finally deposited Joel in his bed and began removing his boots amidst his protestations. 

“Will ya quit babying me? I’m fine…” Joel complained, starting to unbutton his flannel and gaze curiously at the wrappings across his abdomen. Your eyes greedily took in the hair peppering his broad chest and belly button, up until the area shaved from surgery. You gulped hungrily, wrenching his boot off and depositing it at the foot of his bed.

“Are you going to be this ornery the entire month?” you accused, not altogether surprised. You had interacted with many a stubborn man, but Joel seemed to take the cake. The stauncher the patient the harder the fall, you surmised, batting Joel’s hand away and exploring the wrappings yourself. There was a bit of spotting from the arduous transport, and Joel was due for dinner and a round of penicillin. “How much are you going to argue if I suggest a sponge bath?”. Joel’s eyes widened to the shape of saucers, as he grew immediately self conscious of his body and glistening skin. His cheeks reddened slightly as he considered the possibility.

“I mean…I don’t…complain about everything…” his visage gained a boyish quality as he bit his lip and started fumbling with the nearby blankets. You smiled appreciatively. Score. Most men were big teddy bears, after they raged against the dying of the light. You peeled the wrappings back as Joel pouted bitterly.

“Alright, let’s get some food in you so you can take your medicine, and then we’ll make sure someone is set and cozy for bed” you offered, before Joel desperately grabbed at your hand, looking deep into your eyes.

“I….’preciate it” he managed to get out reservedly, as his eyes finally softened in the darkening room.

“My pleasure” you countered, leaning in for a tender kiss before heading downstairs to the kitchen, and stopping at the door way. “DON’T…” Joel paused mid exploration as you leveled your eyes skeptically in his direction “…paw at those wrappings until I come back, understand?”

“Yes’m” he quipped, though you weren’t entirely sure if he were joking. With or without Joel’s help, you were going to relish your new role as private commune nurse.

The days passed slowly, but delightedly as you nursed Joel back to health. The surgery had preceded your normal Spring Break, but in an unexpected turn of events, the commune had allowed you and Ellie to assign reading and creative projects on a weekly basis. With your permission, Ellie had even assembled class for a few hours once a week to help the students’ progress. You grinned, imagining Ellie’s lack of diplomacy as she regaled you with her first foray into instruction, accidentally making one student cry over math permutations and counseling another on the finer points of dealing with bullying. Apparently her first admonition was to just ‘punch the sucker right in the nose’, but having thought better of the ramifications for an eight year old, eventually encouraged them with subtler points from “Crime and Punishment”. You chuckled sweetly, rolling your eyes as Ellie sat on the edge of Joel’s bed, recounting the school day's events. 

“That’s my girl…” Joel nodded curtly, looking helplessly around the room and picking up his copy of “Crime and Punishment” once again. Within the week, he had caught up to Ellie’s literary progress and both of them were nearing the completion. Mostly absorbed with Joel’s recovery and the ongoing school year, you hadn’t yet broached the tender topic of Elk Creek or any of the unresolved questions that Ellie’s previous confession had elicited. 

She was immune. But how far did that immunity extend? How long would it last? And most importantly, was there any way her immunity could be duplicated? You didn’t know the answers to any of those questions, and alongside the immediate concern of Joel’s well-being and emotional wellness, you couldn’t perseverate too long. But if the three of you wanted a future together, there were some tough conversations ahead. Maybe you could help in more ways than just soup and sponge baths.

“How’s The Bookshop holdin’ up?” Joel asked for the umpteenth time, shifting awkwardly in the bed and grumbling at his limitations. He hated feeling helpless, and it was taking every iota of his strength to remain sedentary in the recovery process.

“Pretty good. Think we’re about ready for openin’ whenever you are” Ellie guessed, drawing the blanket between her fingers appraisingly. “Rascal might even host if you’re not feelin’ up to it” she joked, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back smugly. 

“It’ll be a cold day in hell ‘fore that happens” Joel’s drawl intensified as he sat up taller, attempting to hide the momentary discomfort of shifting positions. Recovery was hard enough, but with no pain killers, you didn’t envy Joel’s challenging position. You were glad to help in any way that you could, watching Ellie’s face falter with hesitation.

“Shit, I forgot to feed him after class today” she observed, shrugging guiltily before standing up. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…” she playfully punched Joel’s outstretched foot before squeezing your shoulder warmly and heading downstairs.

“Maybe sweep the floor while you’re there!” Joel called after, before grinning sheepishly in your direction. “Builds character…” he joked, settling further back in the bed, and patting the space beside him. “Back to our reading nook?” he tantalized, grabbing the pair of glasses he used for reading and lovingly fingering the pages of “Crime and Punishment”. You all but squealed with delight, being careful not to jostle the bed too wholeheartedly and delicately placed yourself in the crook of his embrace, resting your head softly on his shoulder. Draping your leg tentatively over his you sweetly placed a hand near his abdomen, willing the recent wound to continue mending. This wasn’t the moment for sexual intimacy, but sharing this last week with Joel had offered a tenderness your past relationships never could. You sighed contentedly as Joel returned to his reading selection.

“Don’t give Snake Eyes that goofy accent again” you chided, giggling quietly to yourself as Joel looked down his spectacles at you with skepticism. 

“Don’t like my Russian accent darlin’?” he teased, rocking you slightly and grunting with the effort. Joel cleared his throat and began again as you relaxed into him. 

“He seemed hardly to know what he was doing. He could not stay still or concentrate his attention on anything; his ideas seemed to gallop after one another, he talked incoherently, his hands trembled slightly. Without a word Sonia took out of the drawer two crosses. It’s the symbol of my taking up the cross, he laughed. As though I had not suffered much till now! Well, now I am going to prison and you'll have your wish. Well, what are you crying for? You too? Don't. Leave off! Oh, how I hate it all! But his feeling was stirred; his heart ached, as he looked at her. Why is she grieving too? he thought to himself. What am I to her? Why does she weep? Why is she looking after me? I am a murderer. He trembled, remembering that. And the hopeless misery and anxiety of all that time, especially of the last hours, had weighed so heavily upon him that he positively clutched at the chance of this new unmixed, complete sensation. It came over him like a fit; it was like a single spark kindled in his soul and spreading fire through him. Everything in him softened at once and the tears started into his eyes. He fell to the earth on the spot. Raskolnikov at that moment felt and knew once for all that Sonia was with him for ever and would follow him to the ends of the earth, wherever fate might take him. It wrung his heart…”.

Joel sighed heavily, looking down at your resting face, expecting you to perhaps be asleep, but a single tear was cascading down your cheek as he reached down to wipe it away. “My reading’ that bad darlin’?” he coo’ed, wondering at your emotion. Your voice came out more raspy than you intended, but the moment was upon you. “Joel…Can you tell me what happened on the way back to Elk Creek? How did…?” your voice stalled with hesitation, finally motivated by desperation and curiosity. “How did Levi die?”.

Joel swallowed dryly, taking off his glasses and setting the book down. “You sure you want to know?” he began, gripping your chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger. You nodded solemnly, your glassy eyes radiating in the late afternoon sunlight. Joel nodded once and continued. “It was the damndest thing. The whole trip he was like a mockingbird in a lonely meadow. Jabbering on and on, and asking questions about us. Not hardly makin’ any sense. Didn’t think I could feel sorry for that man, but he seemed right emptied out. Like he couldn’t think of anything worth living for” Joel paused, shaking his head with confusion. “Had to bite my tongue multiple times to keep from suggesting a quick exit, until….” Joel's breath hitched violently in his chest as he squirmed slightly with the memory of it.

“Until what?” you whispered, terrified to discover the revealing truth of that fateful day.

“Never thought I’d see a man more lonely than me” Joel observed, hugging you all the tighter against his side as you snuggled in for warmth. “Made me realize what my life could look like without you and Ellie at my side. We had our backs up against a wall, and Levi’s men were scattering left and right. And I saw it. Whatever flicker of rage or passion or fight he had left, just evaporated right in front of me. He ran headlong into the swarm of infected and that was the end of that”. The proceeding silence hung in the air morosely as you considered Joel’s words carefully. Death by clicker. What a way to go. Seemed counterintuitive to think of Levi as any kind of Savior. But maybe realizing that himself, Levi executed the only action that made any sense.

“Get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’” Joel muttered under his breath, almost to himself as you shivered coldly. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until that very moment and it wasn’t a few minutes later you were drifting into a heavy sleep, weighed down by the confusion and exhaustion of the last several weeks, held firmly against Joel’s side protectively.

You couldn’t reach him. Struggling through a maelstrom of acidic fog you coughed and sputtered in the fluorescent glow. Where the hell were you? The entire bog seemed to reek of a sulphuric bitterness, you couldn’t escape. The books were crumbling, your willpower was waning. Weighted down by a nearly paralytic heaviness, you reached forward as a hand grasped yours firmly. Drawing it towards you, you saw the deteriorating and skeletal face of Levi, his bony fingers, interwoven with yours, pulling you down and down and down. The sticky atmosphere was muffling your cries as you sank further and further into the quicksand of ever increasing doubts…

Joel. Joel. Joel….

You jerked awake, finding yourself in the twilight of dusk, particles of dust floating through the air in hazy delicacy. Thank God. Joel. You turned to look at him in solace, but were crestfallen to see his own tumultuous sleeping expression, perspiring under the heated upstairs oppression. In sleep, his fingers twitched nervously at his sides as you swallowed dryly. “Joel?” you rasped ineffectively, his lips pursing in unknown words and nightmarish phrases. You tenderly reached up to touch his shoulder, remember your first encounter in the Bookshop. You didn’t want him to needlessly suffer, but PTSD was an exacting beast. You tried to gently rouse him from his torment, wondering where Ellie was and if you should call the commune doctor, when Joel’s eyes flew open wildly in horror. He immediately grasped his chest with terror, his breath hitching violently in his chest as you timidly placed your hand over his.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here…” you breathed steadily and soothingly as his eyes shakily found yours in the darkening upstairs bedroom. “You’re safe. With me. We are safe. Together”. You felt the strength of his heart beating powerfully against his ribcage as his mouth struggled to draw in one shaky breath after another. “Easy, easy…” you felt like you were coaxing a stallion or nursing a wounded animal. There were so many nightmares to choose from, how could you help one another escape?

“Ellie told you” Joel’s voice creaked out of him, as though on a wiry hinge, textured with gravel and broken glass.

“Told me what, honey?”

“Told you ‘bout the Fireflies…” Joel closed his eyes, trying to steel himself against a barrage of memories and unbidden images.

“She finally told us, in the hospital…” you began, before Joel sat up abruptly.

“The hospital…” he gasped, moving stiffly, attempting to get out of the bed.

“You’re not in the hospital anymore…you’re here with me…” you grasped him fervently around the chest, hesitant to rip any more stitches.

“You don’t….understand…”. He seemed almost delirious as you looked helplessly around the room for support.

“Will you lay still for me? Please? Let me get you a cold washcloth…” you negotiated, feeling his heartbeat ticking heavily and strongly against your forearm.

“They’re dead. All of ‘em.” his voice rumbled against your arm forebodingly as you paused in your struggle with him.

“Who, Joel? The infected? The raiders?” Joel continued to struggle against you, as you carefully straddled his hips with as much force as possible. “Honey, you’re gonna rip your sutures if you keep wrestling like that, can you please breathe for me?” you were reaching a point of desperation, amazed at Joel’s strength, even in repose, but determined to bring him back into the land of the living.

“I’m a murderer” he spat, writhing beneath you forcefully as you pushed down on his shoulders as hard as you could. You tried to ignore his words, recognizing his feverish incapacity, but startling nonetheless. The apocalypse had included so much death, what could he possibly be referring to? “In the hospital…I saved HER. I killed them all…”. He wasn’t making any sense; you had to get his fever to break.

“Joel, lie still!” your voice echo’d through the house authoritatively. You absentmindedly wondered if Ellie were within earshot as Joel immediately stilled in awareness of the edge in your voice. His pupils narrowed to a focused pinpoint as he grasped your face emphatically with both hands.

“The Fireflies” he wheezed, perspiration now dripping down the sides of his temples profusely. “They found out about Ellie’s immunity…and they tried….to kill her…in the hospital…” his words were a bit jumbled and halting, but the force of his desperation seemed to cut through the oppressive heat like a knife. This wasn’t an ongoing fever dream. Something about this was real. You gulped back tears of acknowledgement. “So I saved her….” his eyelids started to grow heavy with effort as his arms relaxed by his side. “I saved her…and killed me…”. His eyes shut with exhaustion, as his body finally stilled amidst the disheveled sheets, your body still atop him. His breathing eventually resumed an even pace, though his face seemed cemented in a pained expression of distress. You sighed with relief, checking his bandages, and wiping his forehead lightly with the sleeve of your shirt. But as you laid down next to him, the impact of his words hit you like a ton of bricks.

A murderer.

You could dismiss it, like his drunken admission. Another feverish nightmare, punctuated by an ill-advised confession. But. There was something about his words that seemingly rang true. And if it WERE true, who would know? And to what lengths would you go to protect the ones you loved? You gazed longingly at his profile, listening for sounds of Ellie in the empty house, but none materialized. 

It was just you, Joel…and the deadening silence of his confession.

@littlemisspascal @wannabe-urs

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva

@wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya 

@schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 

@joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave 

@copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita

@harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @zaniasky @quicax3

Pedge's Cinema

Trailer: Inspired by @auteurdelabre and the VHS Club, we are going to deconstruct these favorite movies and write some analogous fics taboot. Javi will be our theatrical custodian, but other Pedro Boys might join us for cameo appearances...

Concessions Stand: Don't forget to grab your sweet treat before heading into Pedge's Cinema. Check out @grogusmum and their recommendations for why our fella is a real "Snack"...

The Trailer; Pedge's Cinema The Trailer; All About Eve The Trailer: Thelma + Louise

Sequels:

Movie Poster

*thanks @sweetmelodygraphics

Pedro Pascal's Top 10 Movie Recommendations

The One With Racism

Triggers: This one goes strong, so if you're feeling sensitive, please avoid. Discussion of racism, misogyny, anti-semitism, queerphobia, spirituality, profanity, racist symbolism, SH, ideation, NC. Pedge the Therapist has RPF vibes, but he's just the avatar I use to discuss difficult topics.

Alright, Pedge is hiding in the corner trembling slightly, because I want to discuss our recent discourse around racism, but Pedge doesn’t want to. I’m reminding him that Pedro Pascal is delightfully vocal about his own beliefs, which we heartily subscribe to, but Pedge is still feeling a little shy, and that’s okay too. We finally went and read “the fic”.

To be more accurate, we skimmed the fic until we found the reference to the Confederate Flag. I appreciated the reader who gently questioned its inclusion, though I can no longer see the writer’s response. Being Jewish, I also resonated with the supposition that a swastika would be equally in bad taste, which I understand and agree with.

Having adored this writer for the last year+, I can’t claim to know them personally, but I feel I know something about literary style. This character is PURPOSEFULLY in bad taste and our main character gets off on using him sexually. The most I could definitively say is that I don’t find this type of situation appealing, but I can intellectually understand someone who might. Besides which, the main character is listed without ethnicity or physical description. So that means, I, as a Jewish woman, have the literary option to literally give a “fuck you” to this ridiculous fictional character. For me, this is equivalent to NC fics or SH which I find more personally appealing because I can explore these darker emotions in a fictional setting so I can bring them into the light, not hide them further in the shadows. I get to exercise literary control, and in regards to racism, that is something that many of us feel we lack. (*adendum; this was after I was alerted to its content, which was not specifically included in the triggers....)

I really think that’s what the author was trying to express. If you don’t think that, then please keep saying so, in as truthful a way as possible. Your experience is completely different than mine, and I want to hear about it. I didn’t read this fic when it came out because I don’t find this character appealing, and I didn’t find him appealing in the SNL sketch, but that's just me. As a queer Jewish woman, I experience anti-semitism, misogyny and self-hatred from within, and that’s what I have SOME control over and am currently working on.

Pedge and I also appreciated the discussion that ensued after, though I’m sad the writer left. They had already temporarily exited the fandom last year, so I think that’s an indication of many nuances happening behind the scenes that I can't comment on. The last thing I’ll say is the personal ways I’m interested in combating racism in my own life, since that’s the only thing I have dominion over.

-Go back and read my own fics and see if any can easily remove ethnic/gender descriptions and if I’m interested in doing that. I have already written some fics with that mindset.

-Continue to write for characters that are unique in the ways that I understand; Jewish, queer, “passing”, spiritual…and safely explore darker writing prompts regarding SH, NC and ideation.

-Continue to elucidate controversial or potentially hurtful topics in the listed triggers

-I personally don’t think it’s appropriate for me to write to the black experience, because it’s not mine. For me, that would be the height of arrogance to think I could articulate the intimate experience of my brothers and sisters. Other writers might be able to, but that feels inappropriate for me to even attempt it. I would rather read books by black authors, continue to chat with all of my friends about their personal experiences to inform my own, and support as many artists as I can in expressing the varied and beautiful creativity of the human condition.

-I will continue to support black, queer, Mexican, trans, gay, bi, handicap and other minority groups in whatever way I can creatively think of, as I continue to learn more.

Sigh. And if this writer should ever return to the fandom, I think we could continue to voice any concerns in the way our aforementioned reader did. Gently, and with love. Pedge is feeling very sleepy now, but he is reminding me that we don’t often see others the way they are; we see them the way WE are. And that should be as self-informing about our experience as anything else.

To read some more thoughts on the matter check out @whataperfectwasteoftime insights. I found it very comprehensive and thought provoking...

The Oberyn Days

Geez, this man is handsome. Devilishly handsome. A huge thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book :) This has been such a digital therapy lately. Pedge and I have been GOING THROUGH IT, but I'm feeling way better and am optimistic we are headed towards some medical solutions.

Pedge's Bookshop The Wound

Grab a Latte! lounge around in the foyer with this literary collection from @obscurexsorrows "Recommendation" before heading into the Bookshop...

Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", hospital environment, death, wounds, blood, spiritual concepts

Series Masterlist

Words: 3k

Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest, gripping your windpipe with a searing knife-like burn and you felt the icy pinpricks of the wintry air stab at your cheeks as Ellie raced behind you. Did you even dismiss the class? You suddenly realized you weren’t wearing your winter coat, having run out of the classroom blindly, and were still several hundred feet away from the infirmary.

Joel was hurt.

And truthfully, there wasn’t another substantial thought in your mind as your boots gripped the recent snowfall tenuously. What had Ellie said just a few moments ago? Only ten men had returned, and Levi wasn’t one of them. You didn’t have an iota of care for that man, but it only added a cloud of concern and fear to the already tense situation. What had happened?

Would Joel be okay?

You barreled through the infirmary doors, immediately feeling the shift in temperature and tone as pure chaos descended. There were men sitting on the floor, covered in blood and dirt. The limited pool of the commune’s medical resources were already strewn haphazardly around the small building as your eyes took in the scene before you. Every eye seemed to emanate guilt and anxiety, as you searched frantically.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

Stopping abruptly you were greeted by the doleful countenance of Tommy who was locked in heated conversation with Maria. You and Ellie rushed towards him, ignoring the subdued voices contrasted by medical yells of urgency. “Where’s Joel?” you bluntly questioned, interrupting Maria mid-sentence, immediately noticing the blanket of blood covering Tommy’s jacket. “Is that his blood? What happened? Did Levi do this?” the questions poured out of you like a tumult as tears streaked down your face. You were crying. When had you started crying? You didn’t care.

You had to get to Joel.

“He’s dead”.

The world stopped for a moment, tilting on its axis, as you stopped breathing.

“Levi is dead” Maria quickly clarified for Tommy as a small cry escaped your lips, unbidden. Your knees buckled slightly as the group steadied you with supportive hands.

“Where’s Joel? Tell me what happened to Joel…” you croaked, pleading with Tommy helplessly.

“It was a mess. An absolutely ambush” Tommy’s eyes glazed over tiredly. “Levi’s men scattered everywhere when we found the infected. Or THEY found us…” Tommy shivered slightly as Maria gripped his arm tenderly. “It’s my fault…” Tommy’s voice cracked in defeat as Maria shook her head defiantly. “I had the sightline, and I stood up, and Joel…” he swallowed harshly as you looked to Ellie who was uncharacteristically silent. “Joel got shot”.

Your breath came out in haggard rasps, looking desperately around the building. “Where…is…he?” you hyperventilated, prying yourself out of their grasp and meandering shakily. Ellie gripped your arm, heading towards the only examination room that existed as voices blurred around you. All of your senses were somehow merging into a myriad of confusing sensations and images. The people around you took on a bizarre, inhuman quality; their features distorted into a hall of mirrors. Sounds were amplified as though blaring through a sieve, and your skin was a heightened maelstrom of sensitivity and dulled awareness. Moving with the unadulterated force of a bullet you plowed through the separating sheaths of fabric until you found him.

He looked so small.

Your spirit was immediately arrested as all your senses came rushing back with the precision of a scalpel. Smell of iron. Cotton clean. Rusted blood red patches of cloth thrown on the ground. Joel was curled into the fetal position on a low cot, gripping his stomach protectively as Tommy and Maria followed unsteadily behind you. A slew of medical attendants were coming and going, and you immediately noticed a solitary bag of medicine precariously connected via IV. Resources were extremely limited, so the situation must be as serious as it looked. Joel’s shirt had been ripped open, giving you a clear view of the gauze that had been quickly wrapped and immediately soaked in his blood. It was a gut wound, and you knew from books how excruciating those could be. It was a miracle he was even conscious at all, and you wondered what IV the commune had access to.

“The prospects are good, but you know we don’t do surgeries very often…” Maria’s voice held a small quiver, possibly considering her own health concerns. The Jackson Commune would have a limited supply of antibiotics, penicillin and other medicines, but it was obviously for emergencies only. Living and dying had always been a messy business, but the apocalypse reduced everything to one or the other.

“Please, can I touch him?” your voice drifted out of you as though from another country, as the only doctor in the commune raced into the room to check Joel’s vitals.

“Make it fast, Teach…taking him in any second…”.

As though moving through quicksand, you found yourself outstretching your hands towards Joel, afraid to touch him. As though he were made of glass and could easily shatter at any moment, you touched your fingertips lightly to his face, watching his eyelids sluggishly flutter open. What pretty eyelashes, you obscurely thought, now mostly unaware of every other flurry surrounding the room.

“Hey Teach” Joel choked, his fingers twitching quietly over his abdomen, as you circled your thumb over his patchy beard. Dirt and grime had seeped into every crinkle, highlighting his sun-kissed wrinkles, but his eyes held the youthful fear of a young boy. “Tommy tell you I need an extension on my homework assignment?” he smiled tiredly, closing his eyes once again.

“Absolutely unacceptable” you whispered. “The moment you get out of surgery I’m subjecting you to a pop quiz”. You joked tenderly, reaching for Ellie’s nearby hand and pulling her into the conversation. “You don’t want this one to surpass you, right?”. Joel’s eyes shot open with a new awareness, immediately flooding with a host of tears.

“Sarah” he rasped before closing his eyes once again. Tommy lowered his head solemnly as Maria’s eyes widened in acknowledgement. You squeezed Ellie’s hand with encouragement.

“Go on honey, he’s just confused” you offered, catching the intensity of Ellie’s stare as she hesitantly stepped forward. Joel’s eyes fluttered open again with confusion.

“Tell ‘em…” Joel mumbled, his fingers quivering softly in front of him as you brushed a feather-light kiss over his lips before they took him down the hallway.

“Ellie, please…” he continued “Tommy already knows. Please. You gotta tell ‘em” his words started to slur slightly as you gazed helplessly around the room looking to the doctor.

“We gotta take him” the doctor stated, gesturing to the volunteers in the room who grabbed Joel’s cot by both ends gently.

“I’ll be here Joel…” you called after him, leaving the group standing impotently silent, the din of chaotic voices suddenly cascading in from the foyer.

“What did he mean by that?” Maria asked, looking to Tommy for understanding as you gripped Ellie around the shoulders bracingly. Tommy kept looking at the floor as Ellie maintained a tight lipped reservation in response to your probing gaze.

“He’s got to be okay” Ellie stated desperately, rubbing at her forearms with anxiety.

“He will be” you lied. In this moment, you were hanging on by the thinnest of threads, but were determined to offer whatever confidence you could muster. “He’ll be fine because he has to be”.

The group stood poised in silence until Maria broached the subject once again. “Tommy…what did he mean?” Tommy refused to meet her eyes, but glanced quickly at Ellie for confirmation. You gripped Ellie tightly around the shoulders, uncertain as to how to support in the best way possible. You knew he was medicated and nearly delirious, but his words seemed sincerely motivated.

“I…” Ellie halted, looking around the small room, as though expecting a myriad of clickers to come cascading through the doorway. “How much did Joel tell you about our escape from the Fireflies?” she muttered, nearly under her breath. You held your breath with nervous anticipation. This was it. This is what Joel was trying to protect. WHO he was trying to protect…

“Not much” Maria offered, a tinge of betrayal spiking her tonality. “Tommy won’t tell me any of the details, just says I should keep my mouth shut…” she grumbled, looking to Tommy with slight annoyance. Tommy and Ellie knowingly locked eyes, as you observed her clawing and voraciously itching at her forearm, as though trying to tear it off. A cry of anguish from the foyer jostled your group out of its tumultuous reverie, as Ellie shook her head with defiance.

“Just leave me alone…” she muttered, wrenching herself out of your grasp and heading for the exit. Maria breathed a sigh of frustration, clutching her abdomen protectively.

“I pushed. Pushed too hard…” she observed, throwing her hands up in supplication. “Damn it. Tommy why the fuck do you ever let me talk out loud!” she tried to jest, contemplating sitting on the floor and finally giving up with frustration. “I need to take a walk…” she grumbled, heading out the door before slapping Tommy across the back of the head, eliciting a small smile of acknowledgement. Tommy’s eyes stayed locked to the floor.

“Women” he smiled, one small tear falling to the floor and dotting his dirtied boot. You grabbed his hand lovingly, nodding your head. Emotions were running high, including your own. You genuinely believed that Joel would pull through, besides which you couldn’t stew any longer in your own anxiety.

“You’ll be here?” you asked, watching Tommy shuffle his feet awkwardly.

“Not going anywhere” Tommy stated matter a factly, before giving your hand an exhausted squeeze.

“Okay, let me talk to her…” you offered before casting one final glance in the direction of the surgery room, willing Joel to sense your telepathic concern.

Joel. Fight. Fight like a motherfucker. I can’t lose you. Not yet. Fight. We need you. I need you.

You turned on your heel and headed out the door, knowing the one place Ellie would go for solace. Trudging through the cold and rain which had turned the previous snow to a dirtied sludge, you were quite a distance from The Bookshop. Finally alone with your thoughts and overwhelming emotions, one reality bubbled to the service with stark clarity;

….Levi was dead.

You weren’t exactly pleased, but wondered at his unexpected demise. Is it possible that Joel had something to do with it? You batted the thought away with annoyance. But with Levi’s death came the completion of a chapter of life that had long since ended. You were thankful for the closure, and desperately wanted to talk with Joel. IF he was able. You winced painfully, shoving those intrusive thoughts out of your mind as quickly as they appeared. Nearing the Bookshop you already saw the telltale signs of the woodburning stove and pacing tom-cat. It just wasn’t Rascal this time, it was Ellie. You approached cautiously, the bell at the door muffling a somber sounding ‘ding’ as you pried the door open tentatively.

“Can I come in?” you ventured, spying Rascal the Cat who was similarly peeking its head from behind the bookshelves. Ellie didn’t respond, just continued her cyclical pacing around the room in a flurried fashion. You shut the door behind you, backing up against it so as not to frighten her unduly. Ellie made another loop around the totality of the Bookshop as Rascal eyed you both suspiciously. Whilst obviously aware of your presence, Ellie seemed undeterred from her meditative flurry as she muttered something under her breath.

“Endure and survive, endure and survive, endure and survive….”

It took you a couple passes to gather what she might be repeating as she continued to scratch at her forearms, so you decided to take up residence in the foyer armchair, wrapping the quilt around yourself protectively. You were thankful to be distracted by your care for Ellie, otherwise you might have crawled out of your own skin waiting for the surgery to be successful. After a few minutes you decided on a different tactic.

“Have you arrived at the confession yet?”.

Ellie’s circular path halted, placing her behind a bookshelf, effectively hidden from your sight. You had struck a chord. Maybe if she couldn’t immediately make her own confession, you could arrive at via literary resources.

“Of course, Rascal tries to make his confession multiple times before he finally succeeds with Sophia…” you continued as Ellie’s mantra resumed, albeit at a slower tempo.

“Endure and survive, endure and survive…”.

“When Rascalonikov finally confesses, he moves from a place of human isolation to Divine consummation. Much like Lazarus, he begins to participate in his own rebirth; his own moral resurrection, rejoining the community via his own suffering and eventual redemption…”. Ellie quietly stopped pacing as Rascal the Cat nearly bumped into her calves and stared at you with a fixed intensity. “Just don’t tell Joel, I don’t think he’s read to that part yet…” your voice finally wobbled with emotion, allowing the smallest thread of reality to seep into your periphery.

Rascal the Cat slowly began stalking in the opposite direction, as Ellie attempted not to trip.

“And when he eventually does, a lot of it is steeped in anger and bitterness…”. Ellie remained undeterred in her pacing, but the words dulled to a non-existent roar. “That’s one of Dostoyevsky’s main points, regardless of society’s aversion to it, the true human of conscience can’t escape their own Divinity. Morality becomes it’s own punishment…and salvation…”. You were just winging it here, but how many lectures were born out of spontaneous desperation? Pouring your fervor and anxiety into the one beneficial thing you could helplessly do, was less of a decision and more of a reaction. Rascal the Cat had finally ceased his opposition and trotted merrily behind Ellie in her slowing circle of perseveration.

“If you had the power to save Levi’s life…would you?” she rasped, Rascal plopping down on the floor lazily and beginning to play with Ellie’s tangled shoestrings. Your mouth fell open dryly as the pit of your stomach dropped to the floor abruptly. An unexpected bout of tears immediately sprung to your eyes as the room stilled with a newfound, pulsing heat. You grasped helplessly at emotions you obligated yourself to, contrasted by the confusing substantiality of what was. Waiting for your response, Ellie delicately walked towards you, seating herself at your feet and looking out the main foyer window pensively. “If somehow you had the power to save, even the worst of these…would you do it?”.

You closed your eyes with consternation, Joel’s small, pained form seared into the recesses of your mind. Could both seeming dichotomies be true? Were punishment and salvation so inexorably entwined that humanity could never distentangle them?

“I think…” you cleared your throat from the emotion-filled rasp that greeted you. “I think…I somehow hated Levi enough to WANT him dead, but would do almost anything to keep him alive. It doesn’t make a lot of sense. But that doesn’t make it any less true…”. You collapsed back into the chair with exhaustion as Ellie laid her head against your leg with a restless, contentment. Rascal jumped into your lap, settling himself for a catnap as the snow began to drift lazily across the cold, foyer window. And that’s how you stayed, until the bell rang loudly at the Bookshop Door with Maria’s rushed entrance. You didn’t know when you had all fallen asleep but the specks of whitened snow were now dotted against the darkened, evening sky.

“Joel’s out of surgery!” Maria’s voice jarred you from your tumultuous reverie, as adrenaline kicked your heart into a flurry of activity.

Joel was awake.

Running into the infirmary, ghosts of the previous chaos hung lightly in the air, as you noticed a handful of men, sleeping quietly in corners or speaking in hushed tones. Piles of bloodied rags and emptied IV bags were piled haphazardly outside of the walkway, as Tommy barreled towards you and Maria. “He’s asking for you both” Tommy sighed with relative relief, holding Maria’s hands and stifling a wash of tears. “They removed the bullet, and if we can hold off infection, he should make a steady recovery” his voice trembled with emotion as Maria nodded her head with encouragement. “It’s good that we’re both the same blood type” he smirked with chagrin. “‘Seems only fitting if I got Joel nearly killed out there, that I should have something to do with his recovery”. You smiled with gratitude, grasping Tommy’s forearm and then heading tentatively into the make-shift recovery room.

Seeing Joel’s skin in a grayish hue, but his otherwise serene expression, dotted with a slight sheen of perspiration was a mixture of solace and concern. But he was safe. Ellie took your hand shakily as intently watched Joel’s chest rise and fall in steady breath. The four of you stood poised at Joel’s bedside, somber and quiet. It was quite a bit of time before Ellie’s voice tentatively emerged.

“I have to tell you…” she whispered, barely audible, as Joel’s eyelids fluttered sweetly in medicated sleep. Maria pursed her lips stubbornly, determined to protect the fragility of the moment.

“Tell us what, honey?” you swallowed, not taking your eyes off of Joel. None of you wanted to disrupt the intimacy of your connection. You were alive. There was something about death that made living all the sweeter. Ellie slowly reached down and peeled back the sleeve of her flannel revealing the puckered and veined laceration of an apparent infection. Without meaning to, you dropped her hand reactively, bringing your hand up to your mouth with revulsion. Tommy closed his eyes and dropped his head to the ground, while Maria gasped in quiet surprise.

“Ellie, are you?…When?…” Maria’s voice was pinched and cautious as Tommy shook his head quietly, holding her fixedly in place.

“Let ‘er talk first…” Tommy’s voice graveled, as you grabbed her hand again in forced solidarity.

“Are you sick? Are you infected?” the words tumbled out of your mouth as Joel stirred slightly in the bed.

“I thought I was…” Ellie’s confession now poured out of her without hesitation or limit. “But I’m immune. Joel knows. He’s known for a while. That’s what we were trying to do with the Fireflies. We were trying to find a cure”. The words hung awkwardly in the air as Maria’s brow crumpled in disbelief.

“That’s what you’ve been hiding?” Maria looked to Tommy doubtfully as he remained stoically in place. Ellie swallowed dolefully, her eyes widened to saucer-shaped orbs of apology.

“There are others” Ellie blurted out, as Joel stirred once again, his fingers quivering at his sides helplessly, unbeknownst to you and the group. “I’m not the only one, but it’s dangerous for anyone to know. There’s no cure. At least none that we could find. We got out of there as fast possible once raiders descended on the hospital. Joel saved me. He might have saved us all” Ellie reflected, looking back at his stilled form on the gurney. “I’m sorry Maria” her voice broke with defeat. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up…for you…and the baby. But no one can know…” her shoulders sagged with overwhelm before Joel’s voice rumbled low and quiet against the stillness.

“Hey Teach…” he smiled tiredly, reaching a hand out towards you and Ellie as you both quickly moved towards him. “When’s that pop quiz you promised me?”. The five of you laughed with relief before Joel winced in relative pain, clutching his abdomen tenderly. You made quick eye contact with Maria and Ellie in knowing acknowledgement of discussions yet to be traversed. But not now. Now, was the time for healing and rest.

“Come on Joel” you sighed with reassurance. “Let’s get you home”.

Fantastic Four

A huge thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book. It took me a second to get this man's hair color correct, but I think I'm pleased. Wanted to work something simple without a fic or attached prose...Can't wait for Fantastic Four!

Pedge Bookshop Art

A huge thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful Coloring Book! I hope you will check out Pedge's Bookshop, as this rendering is based on the integration of "Crime and Punishment" themes that closely resemble "The Last of Us".

“We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.” “Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.” “That's why I drink too. I try to find sympathy and feeling in drink…. I drink so that I may suffer twice as much!” “Power is given only to him who dares to stoop and take it … one must have the courage to dare.” “Do you understand what it means when you have absolutely nowhere to turn?” “Only to live, to live and live! Life, whatever it may be!” “Through error you come to the truth! I am a man because I err!”

Happy Pedro Hours Bouquets of Pedro!

Gosh, I wanted to do so much more for Valentine's but here we have arrived. I DO enjoy writing for Din, as per @beefrobeefcal Christmas Prompt. But I currently have my hands full with Pedge's Bookshop "Crime and Punishment" Series completion and Din deserves our full attention. I'm not sure if it's Platonic Love or not, but I always found Din to be ace-coded, so I enjoyed some beautiful @auteurdelabre coloring + a bitty poem to celebrate this Pedro Boy. Hope you are enjoying Valentine's and all things Love! Thanks @happypedrohours for the fun activities!

Platonic Love

Come, my love, and wrap the tendrils of your soul around mine Anchor yourself to the port of my storm Reach out for me, with the Divinity within, as I reach within for You I do not tether myself to you anymore Than we are already inexorably linked I do not entitle myself to a Love already realized And if we must lie together, let’s do so quickly, As though racing towards a reality already observed Reveal yourself to me, as I already know you, So that I may better divine myself Let us layer our bodies on top of The unspeakable euphoria and horror we must endure Let us divorce ourselves from ourselves, Taking one another without judgement or force Shed your armor and step into my ocean I will encase you, enhouse you, as unto myself, Forever relinquishing and forever devouring

*thanks @dollywons for the cool dividers

@joelmillerisapunk @i-own-loki @oliveksmoked @inept-the-magnificent

Get to Know Your Moots

@burntheedges Always comes through with the Polls and Prompts. I've been wrestling with health challenges, but this Valentine's is a win for my self-love journey. Approaching my one year Tumblr anniversary and thought I'd introduce myself a bit more...

What's the origin of your blog title?: Pedro Pascal lists a friendly nickname of Pedge in a BBC interview, and Tumblr is where I exist with him parasocially. It’s Pedge’s World, I’m just living’ in it!

OTP(s) + shipname: Okay I’m a Tumblr baby so I had to look these terms up. But I’m the OG fan nerd. Star Trek, Star Wars, Harrison Ford, LOTR, Narnia, Marvel, D.C, Disney, Broadway, Sherlock, Harry Potter…I’ve really jumped around. I don’t often ship, but maybe Benny/Frankie, Han/Leia, Pedro and anyone…Not sure I understand this term…

Favorite Color: Every color is on the table for me. I love variety.

Favorite Game: I like any of Lego Themed Video Games because you never really die

Earworm: Abracadraba Lady Gaga, Father Figure George Michael

Weirdest Habit: I think my brain works weird. It’s supes philosophical and existential.

Hobbies: Legos, writing, music, acting, painting, art, Disneyland, reading

If you work, what's your profession: Teacher, Artist

If you could have any job you wish what would it be: I thought I wanted to be a mom/wife but that didn’t happen. Then I thought I wanted to be an actor and that DID. But then I realized I wanted to live EVERY life and that wasn’t possible.

Something you're good at: Mentoring other artists

Something you're bad at: Geography and natural sense of direction

Something you love: Humans

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Art philosophy

Something you hate: Hate and prejudice, particularly as it triggers my own self-perception

Something you collect: Mugs, Books, Legos

Something you forget: Don’t know. I forgot.

What's your love language: All of them. I’m an emotional slut.

Favorite movie/show: WTF? Pick one? No.

Favorite Food: Salad

Favorite animal: Dog…or unicorn.

Are you musical: Y.E.S.

What were you like as a child: Not even much shorter. Pure.

Favorite subject at school: English

Least favorite subject: P.E.

What's your best character trait: I love hard and uniquely.

What's your worst character trait: Self harm and the way it negatively impacts others

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be: Health

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet: Jesus, I guess :)

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics: I guess it’s Tumblr lore, but I LOVE “A Lover’s Pinch” by @hier--soir . It’s unfinished, so if you want a heartbreak, this is your angst…

Happy Valentine's y'all, I loves you mooots....

Pedge's Bookshop The Talk

Bookshop: As per your recommendation, Joel is our shop owner. I think there's something appealing in a man who says little, but obviously feels so much. I just finished reading Pedge's rec for "Crime and Punishment" and it's a doozy. Joel has a lot...or very little say about it.

Triggers: spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", "Last of Us" canon, profanity, gun, sexually threatening situation, cat allergies...

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

“Now, just because Teach is comin’ to the house more often, don’t mean that she’s like…your mom or somethin’…”.

Ellie winced awkwardly hearing the stilted words fall out of Joel’s mouth in his decidedly Southern drawl. This was easily the most uncomfortable conversation she had ever had. What topic was he going to broach next, the birds and the bees? Watching the reddish tint creep up Joel’s neck, now reaching to the tips of his ears, Ellie saw a rare opportunity to rib him a little.

“Just one question…” Ellie somberly muttered, casting her eyes deceptively downward to the bookshop floor hearing Joel’s gruff affirmation in response. “If your condom breaks, does that mean I get a little brother?” Ellie’s mouth turned upward in mischief, watching the crimson hue completely drain from Joel’s chagrined face as he froze in temporary emotional paralysis.

“Maybe we can call him Rascalnikov for short?” Ellie teased as Rascal the Cat quipped its head to the side in curiosity. Joel’s face registered a millisecond of recognition before he exhaled the breath he had unknowingly been holding, chuckling softly under his breath.

“Fuckin’ teenagers” he muttered, his shoulders quaking slightly with laughter. “Look, unless you want an earful, just get home a little later tonight, okay? Me and the Teach are gonna have some adult time…”

“…Discussing literature?” Ellie interrupted, kicking at Joel’s booted foot playfully.

“…Discussing LITERATURE, among other things” Joel continued wryly. “But this is all real new, and we don’t want to rush into anything that…”

“…Makes us extremely uncomfortable” Ellie continued to jest, rolling her eyes clairvoyantly. If Joel was determined to drag this conversation out, then she was going to have her fun with it. Ellie was actually excited to form more of a connection with you. In your conversations you had already formed a connection, and your response to her had been so welcoming and inclusive. Besides the sharing of clandestinely housed secrets, in you, Ellie had found a mentor, a friend and a teacher. Someone who understood the darker parts of humanity, maybe even of themselves, but didn’t shy away from it. And Ellie desperately needed more people like that. But she wasn’t done humiliating Joel while his soft underbelly was exposed.

“You know there are lots of ways you can be intimate with someone, without risking a pregnancy…” Ellie continued watching Joel’s jaw lock with embarrassment. “I’ve been reading some VERY educational material here at the Bookshop that Maria and Tommy should DEFINITELY have read…”.

“Jesus Christ” Joel wiped his hand over his face with annoyance. “Are ya done yet?”

“Oh I’m just gettin’ started” Ellie razzed before acquiescing to his point.

“Just…nothin’s changin’. It’s still you and me” Joel’s eyebrows pinched in the center of his forehead with real concern as Ellie considered his words carefully.

“All jokes aside…it’s okay” Ellie hesitatingly pondered. “I like Teach a lot, and so do you. But things are gonna change. Things always do. We’ve just gotta make it our business to change with ‘em.” Ellie nodded her head curtly as though agreeing with herself. She had already lost enough in this world to know how temporary things could be, and knew that life was meant to be lived. Hesitate for even a millisecond and your entire existence was a flash in the pan. Ellie wasn’t going to go out quite so easily.

“How’d you get so smart?” Joel mumbled, kicking back at Ellie’s foot good naturedly. 

“Did you hear about the Buddhist who refused Novocain?”

Joel stalled in confusion, squinting his eyes skeptically.

“His goal was transcend-dental-MEDICATION” Ellie paused triumphantly as Joel brought his hands to his hips with defiance.

“I’m leavin’”. Joel grabbed his winter coat heading for the door huffily.

“Atheism is a non-PROPHET organization” Ellie called after Joel as he stalked past her gruffly shooing Rascal the Cat out of his way deftly.

“Be home by 10, BUT NOT BEFORE!” Joel reiterated, flinging the bookshop door open, a hefty bounce in his step she hadn’t previously noticed.

“Hope you get an ‘A+’!” Ellie managed to get in before the bookshop bell sounded cheerily and Joel was out the door and headed home. She smiled to herself victoriously, looking around the Bookshop happily.

Good for you old man, she chuckled, heading into the back room to grab another stack of books. The store was nearly assembled, and despite Joel’s grumblings she knew that he was anxious to open it, not just for the rest of the commune but for the admiration and encouragement of his favorite customer; Teach. All that remained was a special exhibit featuring the Book of the Month, “Crime and Punishment”. Options were still limited, but the display would include a dirtied copy of “Anna Karenina”, “The Master and Margarita” (which was unfortunately in Russian), and a collection of short stories featuring Chekhov. It was somewhat miraculous they had the options they did, so Ellie was smiling as the bookshop bell rang upon her re-entrance to the main lobby. “Forget your condoms?!” she chided, now hearing the tell-tale hissing of Rascal as her stride was abruptly halted in revulsion.

Levi.

What the hell was he doing here? She looked around the Bookshop noting her avenues of escape, and was continually grateful for the wide open window transparently showcasing their interaction. However, the backroom now forebodingly loomed behind her. She resumed her confident path to the front counter, pocketing a nearly dried out ball point pen. “What do you want, Levi?” she spat, mirroring Rascal’s aggressive reception.

“Ain’t got to want something to visit the commune bookshop” Levi retorted, dragging his dirty fingers along the display shelves and kicking at the cat with annoyance.

“Well, we’re actually closed, so why don’t you come back when you learn how to read” Ellie responded sweetly, gripping the pen abrasively in her small hand. This felt terrifyingly familiar, and she wasn’t going to lose the upper hand. No one was coming to save her, and she was all too ready to take care of herself.

“Well ain’t you got a mouth on ya?” Levi judiciously appraised, picking up the showcased copy of “Crime and Punishment” and tossing it unceremoniously back on the table. “You remind me of the Teach, when we first met”. Ellie bristled noticeably whilst battling her own curiosity. Levi was no friend of hers, but knowing more about the Teach and her background was an interest she couldn’t deny.

“I’m surprised she didn’t run circles around you” Ellie bantered, watching Rascal bob and weave like a feline prize fighter, ineffectively batting a small paw at Levi’s boot.

“Can’t say she didn’t” Levi offered, his hands outstretched plaintively. “But surely you know, sometimes circumstances force our hand. Most people would be willing to do whatever it takes to survive”.

“Endure and survive” she almost whispered.

“I like that!” Levi feigned enthusiasm, now drifting behind one of the tall bookshelves, his voice eerily echoing in the Bookshop. “Endure and survive!” he re-emerged, peaking out from behind a different bookshelf, now several paces closer to the front counter.

“What do you want, Levi” Ellie growled, shifting a few feet closer to the doorway and trying to situate herself nearer the exit. 

“I’ve got my eye on you…and Teach” Levi threatened, contrasted by his all but beaming countenance, as he edged closer. Rascal latched his serrated claws onto Levi’s tall boots, but found him undeterred.

“What is that supposed to frighten me or something?” Ellie countered, gripping the pen harder in her now sweating hand. She could go for the eye, or the jugular if she had the right angle. Maybe Rascal could prove a worthy distraction.

Levi reached to the side, donning a small revolver that he brandished in front of him like a toy. Ellie’s eyes widened to the shape of saucers. Leave it to her to bring a ball point pen to a gun fight. What could he possibly gain by shooting her in broad daylight? He couldn’t be serious. Levi was many things, but crazy wasn’t one of them. Before Ellie had a chance to register what was happening, Levi slid the gun across the counter proffering both hands before him in surrender.

“Thought I’d lay all my cards on the table, before you had a chance to doubt my intentions” Levi drawled, leaning on the opposite end of the counter and ignoring Rascal’s hissing and caterwauling. “How old are you anyways?”.

“Too young for you” Ellie bluntly stated before greedily grabbing the gun and pointing it in Levi’s direction. His eyes shifted darkly eyeing the barrel of the loaded gun and licking his lips slowly. “‘Sides I don’t date psychopaths” Ellie joked, waving the gun towards the door. “Get out of her Levi, before we both do something we’re gonna regret”.

The look in Levi’s eyes flashed a momentary dejection, as the cat finally abandoned its attack and slunk off to the back room in defeat. “Ya gonna shoot me, before you even know what I have to say?”

Ellie slowly cocked the gun, relishing the clicking metal beneath her fingers. “Fuck around and find out, Levi” she breathed deeply, focusing on what Joel had taught her about marksmanship.  

“Yeaaaaah” Levi’s honeyed voice almost smothered her with its poisonous sweetness. “You’d do it, wouldn’t ya? But I know somethin’ you don’t. You think you’re so special, like you’re the only one with passion or desperation?” Levi inched closer as Ellie backed up. “Nothin’ special about the will to live.  Saw it in Teach. Saw it in Joel. See it in you…” Ellie held her breath, considering her options. She’d killed before, and she could do it again.

“Go ahead. I like my girls fightin’” Levi stretched his arm towards Ellie as her foot unexpectedly caught on the lip of the rug. Without even thinking, the pull of the gun slammed back violently against her hand as a bullet grazed past Levi’s shoulder and lodged itself in the nearby bookshelf. Ellie’s eyebrows shot up to her forehead, a mixture of bravado and shock as she flung the gun back on the counter towards Levi’s surprised expression.

“I’ll be damned” Levi sighed, slowly taking the gun and returning it to the holster disappointedly. He sounded almost disheartened as he regarded Ellie with a newfound clarity. “Guess I have my answer” he sulked, giving one final look to the Bookshop before heading towards the door. “Maybe you’re not like Teach at all…” he appraised, casting one final look back before jerking the door open swiftly and ducking out. Ellie gripped her chest anxiously, as Rascal the Cat poked its head out from the backroom, meowing with uncertainty. 

“It’s okay, he’s gone” she muttered, rounding the corner and laying a finger to the bullet lodged in Joel’s fine workmanship. A small party of men went running down the main thoroughfare, ostensibly in search of the ruckus as Ellie winced with embarrassment. Maybe she would just keep this little altercation to herself. But one thing was quite clear; Levi was a threat to more than just her, but also to the lives of the entire commune and the people she cared most about. As far as Ellie was concerned, Levi couldn’t leave soon enough. She plopped herself down on the floor unceremoniously as Rascal sidled up next to her with encouragement, purring softly.

In this moment she was assured of her resolve, and had never felt so certain of anything. She would protect, and she would kill. She would do whatever it takes to keep her future lodged safely in the palm of her hand.

And she would do it, by any means necessary.

Pedge's Bookshop The Patrol

Grab a Latte! lounge around in the foyer with this sweet series, "A Girl Walks Into a Bookshop" by @oonajaeadira before heading into the store!

Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", alcohol, lots of talking, ambush, gunfight, nightmare, descriptions of death/loss, injury, blood..

Series Masterlist

Words: 3k

Joel listened to the steady thrumming clip-clop of the mare’s hooves, watching his breath perspire and evaporate in the cold wintry air. Truthfully, his mind wasn’t on the approaching task of securing the spring resources for the Jackson commune, or divining the nebulous intentions of the visiting posse on their tentative, circumstantial union. 

He was thinking about you.

The smell of your hair in the morning as it cascaded around him like fluttering wings. The soft, open part of your lips as you slept soundly in his bed. The crinkle of your nose as you awoke in the approaching day. And he wondered if the soft hums you made in your sleep in any way would mirror the sounds you would make otherwise. He shifted his body, suddenly contrastingly hot against the morning air. Breathing deeply, he refocused his eyes on the surrounding nature before him. Tommy rode several paces ahead and the group had already made good time on the second of their three day journey. The trip had been relatively uneventful, as they ventured to meet the tradesman at Elk Creek

The only wild card was Levi.

Joel’s body stiffened at the mere thought of Levi’s presence and his suspiciously friendly demeanor on this forced expedition. It was quite bad enough that Levi had unceremoniously revealed your previous employ as an escort. Joel did not judge, having made some nebulous choices in the name of survival. But Levi’s insidious and stubborn attempts to ingratiate himself, not only to the Jackson commune but to the Miller Family in general, set Joel’s teeth on edge. As though telepathically summoned, Joel heard the telltale percussivity of Levi’s aggressive galloped approach.

“Man of few words” Levi quipped, slowing his steed’s gait and sidling up alongside Joel’s unwilling stature.

“Let’s keep it that way” Joel retorted, gripping the leather a bit tighter and unsuccessfully attempting to rein in his own hostility.

“Can’t ignore me forever, Joel” Levi countered, spitting needlessly to the side and sucking his teeth with annoyance. 

“Watch me” Joel muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Levi to hear and chuckle at sardonically.

“I like you Joel. You remind me of myself” Levi laughed as Joel gritted his teeth violently, swallowing hard. He would NOT be baited. “You might not like it, but I knew our girl way before you did. I know her in a way that you never will”. Levi’s words stung unexpectedly, as Joel was forced to consider the mutual anonymity that so many post-apocalyptic relationships were forced to endure. 

“I know her” Joel countered, craning his neck slowly and meeting Levi’s gaze. “And more importantly, she knows me. I’m someone she can trust, and that’s something you never were and will never be”. Joel returned to his stoic disposition as Levi paused appraisingly, regarding him with a look that bordered on admiration.

“You’ve got convictions is all” Levi reasoned, nodding his head curtly. “Something I never could afford” he rationalized, shrugging his shoulders with nonchalance. “Man’s gotta believe in something” he offered, almost as an afterthought. Joel quietly wondered if that were true. He thought on some of his own “convictions” and whether they were admirable or not. He refused to be drawn into a moralistic conversation with a man like Levi. What could possibly be gained? All that remained was to tolerate his presence, get the supplies, and get the hell back to the Jackson Commune, content in your arms once more. He didn’t know how he was going to incorporate Levi into this plan, but he didn’t have to. You were his future. You and Ellie, and THAT was all that mattered.

“Can’t say I’ve got many beliefs myself” Levi droned on, seemingly bored with his own conversation. “The only moment truly yours in the one in front of you, so I take advantage of every opportunity” Levi reached into a side pocket, removing a flask and taking a swig before offering it to Joel.

Idiot. Joel rolled his eyes skeptically before adding Levi’s shortcomings to the long list he had already assembled.

“More for me” Levi joked, taking another sip and pocketing the flask once again. “Can’t say I ever met a vice I didn’t like. What about you? You enjoying your time with the Teach?”.

Joel’s breath hitched in his throat abruptly, as he caught Tommy’s skeptical gaze from several paces ahead. This was no time for an altercation, but he nearly crawled out of his skin at the mention of you from someone so vile. 

“Don’t mean anything by it, just noticing. Teach bailed me out more than a few times when I thought I was SOL. She’s real dependable like that. It’s good you have each other”.

The contrast of Levi’s final statement sat in stark opposition to the rest of his potential diatribe. Joel inadvertently furrowed his brow with consternation. Was Levi trying to make nice? Was this yet another facade of friendliness, or ulterior motives? Or was Levi simply observing things as they were? Perhaps even as he wished them to be…Joel immediately felt his rancor flare up with a protective spirit.

“If you even think of touchin’ her…” he threatened, pulling up on the reins forebodingly. Levi followed suit, pausing slightly and allowing the group to cautiously move past. He felt the eyes of Tommy boring into him from several paces ahead, who had also stopped and was turning his horse towards them.

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Levi stated matter-a-factly, his face a staunch pallor of apathy. “Care more about my own self interest. Just sayin’ is all”. Joel started cantering again, only more perplexed than ever. Tommy turned back to the trail with trepidation, keeping an eye on the tenuous conversation. 

What was Levi’s game?

“Just see that you make yourself useful” Joel admonished. “There isn’t a world where you and I are friends. But, take it from me; any man so fixed that he can’t see beyond himself, may as well be alone.”

Levi finally settled into a quiet resolution, as though seeing Joel for the first time. “Get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’…” Levi acquiesced, gazing fixedly at the horizon and moving ahead of Joel to join the rest of the group. Tommy took the opportunity to hesitantly double back next to Joel before questioning.

“What the hell was that all about?” Tommy cautioned, keeping his voice low and secretive.

“Don’t rightly know” Joel confessed, narrowing his eyes in skepticism at Levi’s receding figure. “Just know we can’t trust him. He’s more harm than good”.

“I’m surprised you didn’t deck him again” Tommy admitted, clicking his tongue encouragingly to his own steed. “I know I can’t trust HIM, but can I trust you?”.

Joel whipped his head around with surprise looking into Tommy’s doubtful expression. “What the hell does that mean?” Joel raised his voice before noticing some passing glances from the rest of the posse. “What the hell you on about?” he gritted his teeth conspiratorially, in a hissed whisper.

“Come on Joel, you’re a loose canon, always have been” Tommy kept his voice low and without threat, but there was an edge of candor that only a brother could inflict. Joel swallowed hard, begrudgingly admitting to himself the truth of Tommy’s words.

“You should talk” he grumbled, increasing his speed as Tommy hastened to catch up.

“You listen to me, Joel because I’m only going to say this once. You’re my brother and I love you, but there’s more at stake here than just you or me. I’ve got a family to protect and a commune to lead, and if Levi gets me one step closer to that goal, I’m willing to do whatever it takes” Tommy paused, hesitant to say more. Joel bit his lower lip, reflecting back on his own choices and the lengths a man will go to secure the future that he wants and protect the people he loves.

“S’not like family, Tommy” Joel growled. “You’ve always been an optimist, I’m just sayin’ you can’t trust someone just because they’re strong”.

“Will you give me a little credit, Joel?” Tommy unexpectedly lashed out, lowering his voice once again to avoid too much attention. “I’m not the little brother you left all those years ago” he accused huffily. “You take care of your family the way you see fit, and I’ll take care of mine”.

Joel swallowed the taste of bile, as memory after memory cascaded unbidden into his periphery. Holding Sarah as a baby, flashing on her small form cradled in his arms as she breathed her last. Coming upon Ellie, speckled with blood and terror. The feel of a gun housed securely against his shoulder blade. The smell of iron and gunpowder pervading his senses. He felt his chest lurch forward violently, attempting to stave off another panic attack, as your face floated serenely before his eyes; holding you passionately in the flurries of snow. The smell of dried flowers and bramble berry wine. The tears sprung to his eyes as he quickly took in Tommy’s guilty countenance.

“YOU are my family Tommy” Joel gravely whispered, feeling Tommy’s intense gaze at his shoulder.  “You and Maria…Ellie…and Teach…if she’ll have me” his voice trailed off timidly, not trusting himself to proceed further. Joel didn’t know much, but he had lived lifetimes of forced apathy, violently displacing himself from the power of his own emotion, and the people he loved had always paid the price. Now that he had a second shot at anything close to love, he was hanging on to it with both hands, even at the risk of strangling it. Somehow, he had to keep holding on, whilst simultaneously learning to let go.

“I don’t know what I’m saying” Tommy backpedaled, drawing his hand to the back of his neck with chagrin. “Sometimes I feel crazy, like Maria and the baby…it’s all slipping right through my fingers” he chuckled sheepishly, receiving a nod of encouragement from Joel immediately. 

“Maybe we’re more alike than I thought” Joel joked, reaching out to playfully punch Tommy in the gut. He felt the watchful gaze of Levi from afar, but didn’t pay it any mind. He couldn’t control the future. Hell, he couldn’t even predict the future. The only thing he could control was himself, and even that he wasn’t so sure about. He would have to keep relying on his instincts and let life do the rest. All he needed to do was get home to you. 

Home.

The group continued to make good time until they set up camp near the rendezvous point. Elk Creek had always been a great resource for trade and bartering, and Tommy was intent on getting an early start on the Spring gathering. They managed to find a cave that was interconnected with a quarry, setting up the first watch before settling in for the night. It was a large group of about 25 men, so they decided to risk a few campfires. In the seven years of the commune’s existence the Elk Creek Run had never proven to be dangerous until the recent events that necessitated the support of Levi and his disheveled band of journeymen. Wary of future altercations they decided to go on the offensive. Perhaps renegades would be hesitant to attack seeing a small militia of this fortitude.

Levi sat alone, his back against the rock, shadows eerily dancing and silhouetted against the quieting campsite. Hunched over protectively, he observed the friendly banter between men, casting a jealous glance towards Joel and his brother Tommy as they laughed by the fire. What made them so different from him? Why were their desires so much more noble than his? Levi knew desperation when he saw it, and survival in the apocalypse had only heightened the corruption and self-interest that already existed. It was just as well he was already well-versed in the art of self-protection. He’d always survived by his wits; card-shark, con-man, go-between. Any opportunity observed was an opportunity seized upon, and it didn’t matter who he had to manipulate, so long as Levi ended up on top. He hunched down further, bracing himself against the stolid rock face. Truth be told, the freedom of this ongoing anarchic existence provided Levi with a strange dichotomy of liberation and oppression. He was loathe to admit it, but it turned out that even hyper-independence had its own special distinction of isolation. Even tentatively joining the commune and engineering a shaky reunion with you had proven ineffective. Eventually, that same self-salvation seemed to destructively twist in on itself. Levi had long since passed the point of no return regarding his own apathy, but a spark of bitterness pulled at whatever heart strings remained, particularly when he looked at Joel Miller. 

They were the same. Weren’t they?

He gazed down at a small spider stretching itself across the gritty soil, unperturbed by the nearby flickering flames. Levi shivered slightly, repulsed by its alien exoskeleton. He leveled a heavy boot on top of its delicate filaments, his eyes shifting to another moving target to his right. An undulating centipede was crawling its way towards his arm, before Levi grabbed a large rock, hefting it sloppily forward. Looking over at his foot, a myriad of spiders suddenly cascaded from the original, pouring forth like an overwhelming quicksand of darkness. He hardly had time to register a horrified expression before feather-light touches of legs tickled his neck and shoulders from behind, spiders crawling like enigmatic tendrils as he stood shakily to his feet. Right before uttering a scream to high heaven Levi…

…jerked his head upwards from an unexpected stupor, breathing heavily, his heart pounding relentlessly in his chest. The camp had stilled even more, though gazing several feet ahead, he saw Joel clutching his firearm fixedly, staring at Levi’s halting expression. Levi clenched his jaw with discomfort, scrambling for his flask of whiskey and downing the dregs in one terrified gulp.  Just a nightmare. Inwardly he scowled, abhorrent to admit his temporary lapse. Settling back in  for the night, he skulked forebodingly in the corner, reflecting on his future options. Maybe he could get Maria on his side. She was a shrewd leader, but similarly found herself with her back against the wall. It wouldn’t be possible to pull the wool over Joel’s eyes, but maybe Tommy was in Maria’s pocket. Nor would Ellie be dissuaded, and the Teach…Levi flashed on your angelic visage, his jaw pulsing with resentment. He felt certain that your shared background would ingratiate him and alienate you, but such was not the case. Somehow you had already managed to sway the commune to your side, and Levi was impressed. Reflecting on your smiling face, he caught the smallest micro expression of violence seeping into your countenance. As though temporarily vindicated, the expression expanded into one of sheer maniacal terror a broad, gaping grin splitting your mouth into an appalling void. A quiet, looming scream seemed to emanate from beyond his body. Was it your voice? Was it his? His body felt immobilized in quicksand as he struggled to escape his sleep paralysis. It wasn’t until a bullet grazed the rock face behind him that Levi sprung into an adrenaline fueled aggression. 

“Move!” Joel’s voice split the darkness, as Levi took in the chaotic, fire-lit reality that mirrored the nightmarish hell his mind had just escaped. Men were screaming and yelling as they ran purposelessly around the campsite, looking for shelter or solace of any kind. Levi’s head whipped around to the tell-tale shriek of an infected, grabbing at the gun in his holster and running towards the small remaining group of men, hunkered down in a small rock protected abutment that were motioning him in. Sliding into place with a dusty fury, Levi quickly clocked around 50 infected pouring out of the quarry, as though mimicking the spiders in his recent nightmare.

“Jesus Christ” Tommy muttered, reloading and looking around the disintegrating campsite. “Where the hell are your men going, Levi?” he all but screamed, watching several picked off by the nearby infected. Levi’s heart twisted violently in his chest. Everything was falling apart, and there was nothing that he could about it. The men wouldn’t follow his lead, they were as self-motivated as he was. The men of Jackson Commune were a stolid and well-led bunch, but they were about to find themselves significantly outnumbered if something wasn’t done. Joel shoved his way to the front of the group, picking off five infected in quick succession, and reloading his firearm as well. 

“What are you gonna do about it, Levi!” Joel bellowed, looking helplessly at Tommy and shoving Levi to the side. Levi closed his eyes tiredly feeling the knot tighten in his chest poisonously. 

“Get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’” he droned, a dry smile passing over his lips as Joel looked on incredulously. “Tell Teach that she owes me one…” he quipped, holding his firearm lovingly and taking a deep breath before barreling forward suicidally.

“Son of a bitch” Joel muttered, trying to provide cover for Levi’s ill fated martyrdom but quickly realizing its futility. Levi managed to take down another 5 infected before vanishing in a dusty clump of writhing bodies and blood curdling screams. Tommy leveled another 3 infected from where he stood, as Joel reloaded as quickly as possible.

“Get DOWN Tommy!” Joel yelled, rising to his feet and shoving Tommy into the dirt before a searing knife-like explosion bloomed across his abdomen painfully. Tommy’s eyes widened in distress, viewing the steadily blossoming pool of blood flower across Joel’s stomach as he crumpled to the ground in anguish. Joel gritted his teeth stubbornly, his firearm clattering helplessly to the dirt, a flurry of hands and concerned voices darkening around him. He was thankful for the twisting exhaustion that deadened his entire body as he focused on your image with each labored breath. 

Home. Home.

It would only be a matter of time before he saw you again, whether in this life or the next. His mouth tiredly curled into a smile before darkness finally took him. 

Home. Home. Home.

@morallyinept @littlemisspascal @wannabe-urs

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox 

@wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya 

@schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 

@joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave 

@copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita

@harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @zaniasky @quicax3

Moody Superbowl

Awww....I don't think Pedge is a big football guy. Maybe FUTBOL but I appreciated his recent IG post about the dangers of big game gambling. Don't forget to check out his other rec "The Urge; Our History of Addiction". Having said that, I am thoroughly enjoying the commercials, the masculine energy, the snacks and....the Halftime Show. I hope Pedge is doing the same...

Pedge's Bookshop The Storm

Grab a Latte! lounge around in the foyer with this sweet fic "Taste You" by @hellishjoel before heading into the Bookshop!

Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, this series will feature MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", lite smut, ex-type character, spiritual concepts, injury

Series Masterlist

Words: 3.3k

You drew a tentative single finger down the perspiring glass of water before you. The town hall cavernously echo’d, as your leg tapped nervously under the elongated table before you. Tommy shuffled his papers awkwardly as Joel placed a firmly solid hand atop your thigh, squeezing gently as you attempted to take a deep breath. This had been YOUR idea. Maria swallowed dryly, pausing to look at a non-existent watch and then softly chuckling to herself in defeat. Everyone had assembled except the least desired member of the discussion; Levi.

Once again you questioned your motivations, but with the administrative transitions coming up  and the anticipation of Maria’s pregnancy, it was more important than ever to solidify the safety and maintenance of the commune’s existence. You just never counted on it including Levi. Initially you had reasoned that his temporary presence might be nothing more than an inconvenience; a temporary setback when your past haltingly caught up with you. You had spent more than a few sleepless nights, wondering if his appearance was the harbinger of disastrous revelations, and indeed, it had culminated in more than a few protestations. The worst had occurred; and The Miller Family at large was all too aware of your questionable background and salacious past. But if anything, it had seemingly solidified their undeserved respect and acceptance of your assured position in the community. Tommy was overjoyed to provide Maria with extended resources, and Maria was holding her skepticism of Joel at bay with her repulsion of Levi in comparison. Ellie had all but started a campaign for your continued administrative duties, and Joel. Joel was the most surprising of all.  The layers of armor and emotional barriers had finally started to dissipate, as your own vulnerabilities came to light.

Not so with Levi. 

His moral apathy hung like a weight around his neck, dragging him and his posse to the forefront of patrol responsibilities, as they begrudgingly ingratiated themselves into town life. It was only a matter of time before the uncomfortable social bomb detonated, and you were hopeful that casualties could be limited, so you had suggested this clunky and currently stalled discussion to get a better idea of Levi’s intentions. Joel shifted with discomfort in his seat, as he glanced sideways and offered a perfunctory smile. His only motivation for being here was YOU, and offering whatever support or encouragement he could. Levi had set his teeth on edge from day one, but since that tumultuous altercation at dinner, Joel had managed to stifle whatever aggressive tendencies bubbled just below the surface. You appreciated his stolid presence, but felt the tension shifting between Maria as well. There were so many things unsaid, and you weren’t sure if voicing them would bring any clarity or unification. You just knew that things could not stay they way that they were. Finally, the door swung open as Levi strode confidently and loudly into the echoing chamber, fresh from patrol. Grabbing a nearby chair, he grabbed the available glass of water and downed it in several quick swallows before wiping his hand sloppily across his mouth and heavily sighing.

“Hey Teach” he smirked, squaring off against Joel who sat across the table and staring into Maria’s eyes as though questioning the barrel of a loaded gun.

“Thanks for joining us, Levi. I trust you and your group didn’t encounter any unexpected difficulties on patrol this evening” Tommy began, attempting to assuage the growing tensions.

“How could I? You’ve got me on such a tight leash I’m starting to feel like the commune bitch” Levi joked, casting a teasing glance in your direction before Joel cleared his throat menacingly. Levi paused appraisingly. “Nothing to write home about…” he begrudgingly jested, leaning back in his chair as though settling in for an interrogation.

“Tommy and I wanted to get a better idea of your long term intentions for commune residency” Maria engaged, setting her papers before her as though back in a courtroom atmosphere. “Joel tells me your patrol participation has been…satisfactory”.

Levi drolly smiled, crossing his arms smugly behind his head. You vaguely imagined him tipping over backwards, he seemed so pleased with himself. “High praise indeed” Levi sarcastically observed, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

“Your arrival was…well-timed” the words curtly exited Joel’s mouth. “Figure the same will be true for your exit” he quipped, his jaw ticking angrily beneath. You took a deep stilling breath before attempting to join the conversation.

“I for one, am very grateful for Levi’s support” you chose your words carefully, feeling Joel bristle beside you. “Nothing is more important to me than the people of this commune, and if Levi has anything beneficial to add, I think we should put it to the test”. You surprised yourself with the assertion of your tone, but encouraged by Maria’s staunch reinforcement. Levi’s eyes deceptively narrowed at the directionality of your challenge, and he sat up as though answering  a dual.

“Don’t matter to me” Levi nearly spat, knocking the table slightly with his body weight and relishing the small jump it elicited from you. “World’s been endin’ for a long time now. I’m just scopin’ out the best place to land” he licked his chapped lips defiantly. Maria nodded definitively, though Joel was shaking his head in silence. You felt as though you were poised between a rock and a hard place. Desperately wanting to protect Joel and the commune, but currently at the mercy of your own desires and insecurities. 

Tommy broke the tension deftly, “Alright, it’s a deal. One week from now we have our next scheduled resource rendezvous. Joel, you and I can lead a patrol at dawn, and Levi and his group can watch the defensive flank. What’dya say Levi?” Tommy stood to punctuate the offer, holding out a circumstantially forced hand of agreement. Levi stood to mirror him, spitting into his hand and grasping Tommy’s firmly in his. Joel gripped the table forcefully, a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode at any moment. Levi smiled with awareness, enjoying the mounting tensions of the moment. He feigned a two finger salute, “Be seein’ ya!” before striding back out of the town hall, and slamming the door behind him. The room audibly breathed a sigh of relief upon his exit.

“Are we really doing this?” Joel muttered under his breath. Maria’s gaze held a steely resolution, as Tommy sat down defeatedly. 

“It’ll be okay” you encouraged, taking Joel’s hand fixedly in your own, under the table. Perhaps the ends could justify the means. You were loathe to articulate the unspoken truth, but you no longer had the luxury of painting reality in any other light. The truth might be a bitter pill to swallow, but in the face of insurmountable odds the only thing you really risked losing was yourself. You flashed on a Dostoyevsky quote that the devil might not exist, but man has thus created him in his own image and likeness. But if you could save the commune…if you could save Ellie…if you could save Joel…it was worth it. However, the weight of your discussion settled over the table with a heavy foreboding.

Had you just made a deal with the devil?

Joel’s whiskers teased the sensitive skin of your neckline as you bumped precariously against one of the bookshelves. “You know, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have to keep revisiting the Arts and Recreation section…” you breathed, eyelids heavy with longing, as you temporarily paused his ministrations.

“Feels pretty recreational to me…” Joel teased, grabbing the lush shape of your backside, and caging you against the oaken wood.  The corners of you mouth hiked upward as you drew your hands lazily up and around his neck.

“I AM sorry about this upcoming patrol” you apologized, halting Joel’s salacious attention and watching the incredulity flood his features.

“Just protocol” Joel chastised, touching his nose lightly to yours. “We need the supplies, and if Levi can help us get it, we’ll use him in the process” he wisely advised, tightening his grip. 

You smiled cautiously, “Please watch yourself around him, Joel”.

“Always do, ‘xcept when I’m watchin’ you…” he joked, pulling you in for another kiss. You were about to admonish him when Rascal the Cat signaled an approaching customer. The doorbell chimed distinctly as Joel rounded the corner, deftly tucking you behind the bookshelf clandestinely. “We’re closed…” he began, before subtly bristling at Maria’s appearance. “Oh…uh…Maria….Everything alright?” Joel’s hand stayed behind the bookshelf, motioning for you to stay quiet.

“Sorry to bother you Joel, I had some commune business I wanted to run by you without a bunch of watchful eyes” Maria judiciously observed, clearing her throat authoritatively. You secretively held your breath, stilling your pounding heart. Should you announce yourself? You still felt a little unsure of your new administrative position, and Joel seemed content to keep your presence known only to himself. Perhaps you could do more good from the shadows…

“I hate to ask it, but…I’ve been talking to Ellie” Maria began, looking apprehensively around the room, as though expecting her to show up at any moment.

“Now wait just a goddam minute…” Joel retorted, leaving you behind in the back of the bookshop and moving towards Maria purposefully. 

“She just wants to join patrols, Joel. She’s old enough, and capable as hell, and you know it” Maria countered, shifting her weight awkwardly. She was getting closer and closer to a due date, and the pressure of that responsibility might be motivating her decisions unexpectedly.

“Don’t make it right” Joel stated matter a factly, nodding his head succinctly. You were already hesitant about Joel’s patrol participation, and weren’t keen to add Ellie to the mix. The last thing you needed was Levi influencing them both.

“I know you’re protective of her, but she watches you like a hawk. She only wants what’s best…” Maria chimed in as Joel folded his arms skeptically across his chest.

“Can’t do it” he argued. “S’not time yet”.

Maria sighed with defeat, placing her hands on her hips with a slight defiance. “Well,…you’re gonna have to explain that to her yourself, because she won’t leave me alone otherwise”. Joel nodded knowingly, anxious to drop the matter as quickly as possible. 

“’S’good training for your little one, whenever they arrive” Joel offered, widening his eyes sympathetically. He might complain about the responsibilities of faux parenthood, but it was apparent in all of his actions and words that Ellie was his pride and joy. He wasn’t easily going to let her out of his sight. You smiled affectionately.

“Ellie’s a lucky kid” Maria downshifted, heading away from the Bookshop Counter and within your diagonal sightline, though you were still relatively hidden behind the bookshelves. “I can see why she’s so special…” Maria seemingly taunted, fingering the nearby psychology section and drawing her words out precisely.

“What’dya mean by that?” Joel interrogated, a slight bite nearing the edges of his tone subtly. “What’d Tommy say?”.

“Oh nothing…” Maria toyed again, pulling out a copy of Sigmund Freud’s “The Interpretation of Dreams” and placing it back on the bookshelf in one motion. “Just seems like I can’t get a straight answer around here. From Levi, Ellie…YOU” Maria’s voice sounded neutral and passive, but there was an air of interrogation in it. Maria was a leader through and through, and if she seized upon something that raised a red flag, she reminded you of a dog with a bone. She wasn’t easily going to let this go.

You peeked from behind the bookshelf quizzically, watching Joel’s neck tick with discomfort. “Are you accusin’ me of somethin’?” Joel growled, his hands perched confidently on his hips. Maria turned quickly, with a judicious appraisal, bringing her hand to her stomach protectively. 

“You’re family Joel” she soothed, watching his shoulders relax infinitesimally, but still recognizing his guarded stance. “Tommy won’t ever betray the brotherhood” she smiled, rubbing a small concentric circle around her abdomen. “I just want you to know that…whatever you’re hiding, can’t be good for Ellie. It can’t be good for you or anyone else that loves you…” you shrank quickly behind the bookshelf, wondering if Maria somehow telepathically sensed your presence.

“The past should stay in the past” Joel lowly intoned, so quietly you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

“Maybe…until it drags itself into the light” Maria responded, stepping closer as Joel inched back. “You don’t have to suffer alone, Joel. Rid yourself of whatever you’re holding back. I know Ellie will thank you for it…”. You heard the stifled intake of air, as Joel responded to Maria’s firm grasp of his forearm. Rascal the Cat bumped up against your calve as you tried to shoo him away. Maria nodded curtly before departing out the door, a cascade of wintry air barreling inside juxtaposed by the no longer friendly chime of the bell. You picked up Rascal and slowly approached Joel who remained locked in introspection. Placing a soft hand on his shoulder, he still jumped at your light touch as Rascal scampered down onto the floor, heading to the foyer armchair.

“She’s right you know…” you murmured, tucking yourself into his side as he drew a tentative arm around your waist. “You’re not alone in all this” you encouraged, watching Rascal blink lazily atop the cozy quilt.

“S’not my secret to tell…” Joel rasped, his brows furrowed in concentration. “But…the time’s comin’. Comin’ for a reckoning…” he cautioned, swaying lightly with you enclosed in his grasp. You darkly pondered his meaning, looking forlornly around the nearly completed bookshop. 

“Gonna have to start letting people in soon” you remarked, smiling at Rascal and pointing to the perpetually “closed” sign in the doorway.

“Soon” Joel nodded gazing down at your face affectionately and pressing his lips lightly to yours. “Very soon…”

The rest of the week passed quickly, as you prepared for the upcoming patrol. You couldn’t calm the horrendous gnawing sensation that was eating away at you from within, but you knew that this was the next necessary step in finding solutions. You and Ellie commiserated more than a few times before the fateful day when Joel, Tommy, Levi and others would head back to Elk Creek to pick up the much needed monthly supplies. It was time to put this shaky union to the test. 

You were spending more and more time at the Millers, so it came as no surprise when Joel invited you to spend the night. His eyes twinkled mischievously when he confessed that he had already “talked to the kid”. While you giggled tremendously imagining the comedy of that situation, he had led you upstairs, inviting you into his bed. The night was filled with cuddling, laughter and kisses as you discussed your dreams for the future Bookshop. You were already excited to introduce your students to a new town library and Joel was already suggesting your next literary venture once “Crime and Punishment” was done. Currently it was the coziest Book Club for two, but there was a world where you could expand to officially include Ellie and other commune members who were interested.

While the ease of your rapport wasn’t surprising, Joel’s modesty was, blushing a bright red as you pushed your ass back against his hips. You felt him stiffen in more ways than one, as he chuckled shyly. “Can we wait a little darlin’?” his Southern drawl already had you melting under his touch as you turned your head to meet his gaze. “Wanna take my time with you, and if we…get together now, I’m not gonna last nearly as long as you deserve”.

You gulped with arousal, twisting your body to meet his and collapsing back into him. “Don’t need any more than this, Joel. But I hope I can motivate you to come back from patrol as soon as possible” you tantalized, grinding your hips against his as he inhaled quickly through his mouth.

“Don’t have to tell me twice” he teased, smashing his lips into yours for another passionate kiss. And so the night passed sweetly, encased in one other’s arms, housed in your den of solace. It wasn’t until the early morning hours that you awoke to Joel’s bristling beard at the nape of your neck signaling the start of the dreaded patrol. Entangled in one another’s embrace you tried to soak up every freckle, every wrinkle and every smile on Joel’s face, memorizing his visage as though wondering if you would ever see it again. Eventually you both begrudgingly lumbered down the stairs, meeting Ellie who had already prepared a hearty breakfast for Joel’s exit. You had expected the interaction to be more awkward, but Ellie was mostly focused on Joel’s safety…and arguing for her future participation when she was a bit older. You smiled tenderly at the easy conversation and teasing tonality. Please. Please. Let this be the start of my next story. Not the tragic ending of a narrative just begun. You caught yourself staring at Joel longingly, and trying to keep your thoughts focused on possibility, not tragedy.

And then he was gone. Grabbing his winter coat and supplies, you had all decided to keep the goodbyes short and unemotional. Joel would be back in three days. There was no purpose in histrionics or dramatics. Just another three days, and Joel would be back in your arms, and the commune would have more supplies and more resources for the long respite till Spring.

Three days.

Tapping your pencil nervously against the school desk you looked around at the cornucopia of students taking an impromptu test on agriculture and harvesting techniques. Ellie looked up tentatively to lock eyes with you. Three days.

You had a faint recognition of the Biblical telling of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. Surely nothing else had felt nearly as interminable.

Two days.

Gone were the times of cell phones and emails. No news broadcast that allowed you to focus your attention on outlooks or predictions. Just Maria’s solemn face in the town meeting hall as you wordlessly nodded in her direction. The hours ticked by, as slow as molasses. You and Ellie had spent several hours, trying to wrangle the remaining refurbishment of The Bookshop before Joel’s return. Every evening, you had methodically read and re-read the confession of Rascalnikov and thought of Joel. Wondered where he was. Wondered at his safety. Wondered if he were thinking of you. The pages of your book started to fray and tatter slightly at the corners as you wore them down doggedly.

One day.

You were hesitantly happy for another day at school, desperately trying to focus on the current curriculum of World History and corresponding literature. You had already begun tantalizing the class with the promise of an upcoming field trip to the “soon to be opened” bookshop, with library options galore. You bit your lower lip in a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Joel. Joel. Come back. Joel. You felt nearly crawling out of your skin. Where was Joel? Drawing your focus meticulously back to a description of the Civil War, it wasn’t until you heard the flurried footfalls of Ellie across the outer deck that your heart lurched with foreboding. Ellie flung the door open, pausing heatedly as the entire class craned their necks with curiosity.

“Come quick Teach, the patrol is back!” Ellie shouted, though your countenance immediately fell from enthusiasm to concern noticing the tear streaks lining her face.

“What happened?” you croaked, dropping the chalk to the ground quietly as the classroom collectively held its breath.

“Only ten men came back…there’s no Levi, and barely any supplies. Just come quick, Teach…it's Joel.

Joel is hurt.”

@morallyinept @littlemisspascal @wannabe-urs

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox 

@wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya 

@schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 

@joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave 

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The One That's Personal

Triggers:

This is a WAY overshare, but if Pedge and I keep encountering all these naked bodies on Tumblr, this seems mild in comparison. Therapist Pedge has RPF vibes, but he's really just an avatar that helps me process scary or unfamiliar feelings...AND we have Pedro Pascal for everything else...A little personal chat about the asexuality spectrum, profanity, SH, pleasuring yourself, post-hysterectomy health problems, and all other things Papi Pascal....

Oh wow. Okay, leave it to Pedge and I to have a surprising sexual experience and immediately sit down to write something about it. My personal journey has been a bit meandering, but as I've discovered over my 45 years of existence, EVERYONE is on a unique journey, so I'm no more inhuman or ill-fitting then the rest of humanity.

I didn't pleasure myself until I was in my 30's, and there wasn't anything immediately pleasurable about it. It was a solid 2 weeks of trial and error, confusion and self-loathing until I discovered a buried component of myself and breathed a relative sigh of relief.

It's odd being a virgin, without a uterus or cervix...at the age of 45. I feel like a f*ckin' unicorn. While I had enjoyed a solid decade+ of pleasurable self-moments, it was pretty perfunctory. I've nurtured many a crush, but I'm not sure if there is a bridge between my physical desires of self and my emotional/spiritual desires from others. So I've started experimenting with a tentative ace label...or more accurately, a "sexy celibate"...But until I had my hysterectomy I thought I could just jam myself into the standard heterosexual, Western convention of relationships, marriage and children, receiving the emotional support and structure I wanted, while deftly sidestepping any sexual "eccentricities".

But after I had my hysterectomy everything was harder. At first I blamed my non-existent cervix, and employed more...vibrational means of enjoyment, and that was a revelation. Seriously, anyone that wants to self-experiment--Pedge and I couldn't encourage you more.

But after about a year, my pursuits started to feel more self-destructive than self-celebratory. Honestly, it felt like my SH narrative of yore, as I tried to vibrate my way into feeling human. Feeling self-acceptance? Feeling "normal". Soon, I was dealing more with pre-existing health problems and a hyptertonic pelvic floor, and all my toys went to the nearest landfill (can't donate those to Goodwill). My body was crying out for self-revelation, but I still don't always know how to give it to her.

2025 is my year-o-health and it's had a bumpy start. Four different doctors and I'm mostly making progress with my own research, extremely regimented diet and new routine. But after several weeks, I was feeling hungry in more ways than one. Maybe I had drowned out my still, small voice in such a vibrationally overwhelming and confusing world.

So my experiment resumed....with the F4 Trailer. Mind you, I didn't realize that at the time...All I can tell you is, I woke up in a foggy haze to Pedge's midrift digitally nuzzling against my tum-tum and decided I wanted more, and I f*cking got it. For the first time in my 45 years of existence I came under my own fingers, and we all have the F4 Trailer to thank for it.

That's not EXACTLY true, though that interview was a sight for sore eyes. Honestly, that overwhelming outfit of pattern and joy with the smallest bit of tummy peaking through....really just pushed me over the edge. Here is a man who seems to have joyously accepted himself and I bet I can learn how to do the same.

So here we are. Nothing has really changed. Just one, single, possibly ace, emotionally and spiritually confused level 45 human who joins the rest of the world in loving Pedro Pascal...and maybe getting one step closer to really loving themselves :)

It was very good for me.

And Pedge approves.