Sigh. Pedge and I are feeling sad today. We found ourselves in New York during the 2016 Elections, and there are some aspects of today that feel analogous.
Pedro Pascal has been very vocal about his politics, so I will let you research them on your own, but I told Pedge that a lot of us are feeling sad and scared about our country’s future.
What was that Pedge? Do I think Pedro Pascal could use some chocolate chip cookies today? Um. I’m not sure chocolate chip cookies will make EVERYTHING better, but in this moment it couldn't hurt.
If you happened to vote another way, I don’t think this post is for you. I have close friends and family who think differently than I do, and I still love them.
Pedge and I still love you. But we’re allowed to disagree. And I would encourage everyone to have as diverse a community as is possible so you can understand varying viewpoints and backgrounds.
Pedge says he loves enjoying all the colors of the rainbow when it comes to humanity and I couldn’t agree more.
If you are specifically in the LGBTQIA+ community please remember that you are not alone. As a self-described sexy celibate I often don’t feel like I belong anywhere, but as my mom says, “humans were made for one another”, and I believe her.
We were made for each other. Pedge, I don’t think I can hold your hand and type at the same time…Okay, just rest your head on my shoulder, but try not to snot into my t-shirt please. Thank you.
As per Pedro’s IG post, I have several friends at The Trevor Project, and I believe P has volunteered there as well. Please check out their resources if you are feeling lonely, or just need a talk.
Pedge and I will be enjoying our creativity today. We have several projects of gratitude, but Pedge wants me to remind you that thankfulness is never toxic.
It doesn’t operate in opposition to reality, it holds it firmly by the hand and gives it perspective. I exist in Love, regardless of circumstance and I believe that for you as well my darling friends.
Pedge and I encourage lots of snuggle time today, and we might even upgrade from cookies to pie this Thanksgiving season. There is still much to be grateful for like cherry pie, hot coffee, chocolate chip cookies, smut, Pedro Pascal, sweater weather, winter break, silly songs…but most importantly Pedge says he’s most thankful…for YOU.
"I got a six pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie's out all night. So you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar.”
Grab a Latte! in the foyer with this sweet fic "Just a Cover" by @popcornforone before heading into the Bookshop!
Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, yay lite smut!, MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", references to alcohol/prostitution/murder/rape/death...
Series Masterlist
Words: 3k
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Having Levi and his posse sulk around the commune for the last several weeks was a tumultuous backdrop to the real foreground of your attention; Joel. While the visitors were slated to leave by the end of the month, that did nothing to quell your fears of town gossip or possible altercation. The main protection and acceptance you were currently enjoying was from Joel, and you never wanted it to end.
After that fateful dinner you had expected the participants to shun you or at least offer silent judgement from a watchful distance. But, if anything, it had only seemed to intensify your unique connection to the extended Miller Family. Somehow your own self-perceived fall from grace had engendered more of their affection and resolution. Maria was intent on discussing more of your leadership responsibilities, Tommy seemed exceptionally pleased that Joel and you were spending more time together. Even Ellie was paying rapt attention in class, and seemed to have an ever greater sense of care and support during your interactions. And Joel. Joel had surprised you most of all.
His once stolid and nearly gruff appearance had softened in almost every way; at least when he was around you. You were almost spending more time at the Bookshop than at school, not just to avoid the wandering eyes of Levi and his group, but to vanish in the safety of literature, coffee and your newfound burgeoning relationship with Joel. It was far too early to label anything at this point. You inwardly smirked at the incredulity of it all. A boyfriend, in the midst of the apocalypse? But yours was more than a passing friendship. There was an innate understanding, an “other-ness” that you somehow shared, and within that, had found a sense of belonging. You just didn’t know how far that belonging actually extended.
With Ellie’s help you had nearly finished the Arts and Recreation section, but were newly entrenched in the Literature categorization. Not that you were complaining. Almost everyday, if Joel wasn’t on a patrol, or the school day didn’t encapsulate your existence, you could be found at The Bookshop. Not that Joel ever let anyone shop there. Besides you, Rascal the Cat was his most loyal customer. And while the Bookshop was still in assembly, there was another somewhat clandestine reason; Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you. Only occasionally caught in a lip-lock by Tommy or Ellie, even this indulgence was becoming steadily more difficult, as you found unique ways to extend your ongoing “literary discussion”.
You had already unpacked the varied interpretations of the title, “Crime and Punishment”, indicating that the Russian word for crime was much more indicative of “transgression”. This seemed vaguely appropriate as you lost your train of thought with Joel’s stubbled beard and soft lips winding their way across your clavicle, your voice hitching raspily in your own throat. You tried to explain the import of interpretations like “crossing a line” or “stepping across a barrier”, but that was hard to do when Joel had your eyes rolling back in your head languidly as he cupped your breasts softly in his massive hands. So much for academic objectivity.
One night after Ellie had gone upstairs, you and Joel sat, kissing quietly in front of the living room fireplace, two untouched glasses of whiskey sitting on the handmade coffee table beside you. Joel’s hands had found themselves weighted at your waist, his calloused fingers teasing the hemline of your shirt, tickling the bare skin just beneath. You were straddled across his lap, your breasts nearly in his face as you cupped his jawline tenderly between two hands, licking into his mouth. Pausing to catch your breath, you gently relaxed atop him, feeling his hardened length beneath. You sat lower, wiping his lower lip tenderly with your thumb.
“I think you might be one of my best students…” you drawled, winking lazily at him, as he gazed darkly back.
“What’dya think Teach, am I gonna get a good grade in class?” his voice edged lowly, making sure to keep quiet, lest Ellie get an earful of your evening activities from upstairs.
“Well, you’ve been doing so much, HANDS-ON…” at this you ground your hips in a circle over Joel’s tented pants, eliciting a groaning growl from him as you clapped a cautious hand over his mouth… “…extra-credit this semester. I would say your grade is rising as we speak…” you taunted, reveling in the pained delight that registered across Joel’s brow. He looked up at your showcased cleavage, licking his lips slowly with anticipation.
“And what about the oral examinations?” he mumbled into your neck, dragging his lips across the delicate skin of your décolletage. “When do those begin?” he teased, sucking lightly, just below your ear, drawing forth small giggles from your trembling mouth. You were just about to answer when Ellie’s door opened, her head buried behind Joel’s copy of “Crime and Punishment”.
“Snake-Eyes DIES?!” she exclaimed somewhere between disbelief and delight, slowly descending the stairs as you repositioned yourselves more appropriately, at arms length. You had just finished smoothing your shirt and adopting an innocent expression when she placed herself in front of you, cocking an eyebrow quizzically.
“I know you’re making out. It’s fine” she bluntly offered, Joel rolling his eyes with exasperation.
“Did ya need somethin’?” he huffed, crossing his arms with frustration, before joining her line of questioning. “Snake Eyes DIES?!” he scoffed, looking over at you for confirmation. You shrugged enigmatically, a small smile already plastered across your contented face.
“He fucking offs himself!” Ellie smiled, not even attempting to hide her disdain. “I know, I know…LANGUAGE…” she interrupted before Joel even had a chance. But after attacking Dunya and arguing with Rascal. And probably killing the old lady, and maybe harassing the girl. I did NOT see that coming…” she shook her head confusedly.
“Well good-riddance!” Joel shouted, “…sounds like he had it comin’! Only…don’t get too far ahead of me, I only just finished readin’ the dinner scene…” he pouted, kicking Ellie’s boot with his own as she smiled mischievously.
“Doesn’t seem like you have a lot of time for readin’ lately!” she toyed, dangling the book in front of Joel’s face before he grabbed it defensively, with a knowing grin.
“Alright, alright…apologize to Teach before she heads home. Sounds like I need to do some research to catch up with y’all” he confessed.
“What am I apologizin’ for exactly?” Ellie sarcastically argued, reaching for the book which Joel swiftly held out of her reach.
“Seems to me you still owe that report about weather cycles affecting crop rotation and seasonal climate shifts…” you offered, grabbing a pillow in anticipatory defense.
“Snitch” Ellie grinned, grabbing another pillow and hitting your own, before disappearing back upstairs and calling behind her, “BE SURE TO USE A CONDOM!”
“ELLIE!” Joel bellowed, standing to his feet with irritation as you covered your mouth to stifle the latest bout of giggling. Joel stood poised with his hands on his hips, mid-scowl, before noticing your squeaks of embarrassment, his frustration beginning to fade into the distance as he watched you unravel before him. An impish smirk appeared on his face, as he tossed the book to the side and draped his broad form above you.
“Something funny, Teach?” he asked, peppering your sternum with chaste and not so chaste kisses, as your laughter died down to soft hums of approval.
“She sees a lot” you observed, tucking your hands into the back pockets of his jeans as he gently lowered himself to your chest, snuggling in for a respite.
“This okay? M’not squashin’ ya?” he mumbled into your chest, as his body incrementally relaxed atop you. Guiding your fingers through his peppered locks of hair you parted your legs slightly to capture more of his weight.
“I’m a bit more durable than all that” you managed, relishing his supine figure before you. After a few minutes the room settled into a contented quiet, so much so that you wondered if Joel had fallen asleep before his low voice tentatively drawled, “You know, you can tell me anything. Anything in the world…” he gulped, unwilling to break the magnetic spell the two of you had crafted, before turning his head upward to catch your gaze. “Just want you to feel safe. Safe as…” he paused, considering his next words cautiously… “…safe as I feel with you” he finished, resting his head back on your chest sweetly. Your heart swelled within you. You didn’t feel a sense of shame, exactly. But wondering how Joel might react to the details of your past was carving a hole in your potential intimacy, and you welcomed the open door of conversation.
“I was young…” you started, as Joel’s head whipped up attentively, shifting his weight to the side of your body on the couch so he could get a better look at you. “I had made it to grad school, but my parents weren’t in the picture so much, and money was starting to get tight”. Joel fixedly held your stare, willing you to feel his support and encouragement if you needed it. “One of my friends had experimented with webcams…Remember those?” you chuckled, as Joel nodded in affirmation, nudging you forward. “Seemed harmless enough at the time. I made a little money with simple tasks at first, but soon I got connected to Levi…”. Joel seemed to stop breathing at the mention of his name, his jaw ticking slightly with restraint. “Well…you’ve met him. He always seem to show up at the ‘right’ moment. Saving the day, but somehow taking advantage simultaneously”. Joel breathed deeply, reaching a hand up to stroke your back in wide circles. “He assured me everything would stay virtual, until…well it didn’t. I was definitely complicit, but before I knew it, I was essentially a call-girl, and everything was very much in-person. Levi decided to really play up the ‘teacher’ aspect of my persona, and it became my calling card. It felt ridiculous to be pursuing my Masters in Education, all the while playing up those same qualities in…more intimate situations” your face reddened slightly at the confession. “It wasn’t really what I wanted. But it paid the bills. And it was my choice. A choice Levi definitely took advantage of, but my choice nonetheless. Sometimes it actually felt empowering. Until…it didn’t…” you trailed off, remembering some of the darker details of those years.
“Should I not call you by that nickname? I didn’t know…” Joel shifted upwards on his forearms, before you halted him mid-apology.
“I love it. It was always my dream. I love being a teacher, and I don’t regret the choices I made to bring those dreams to fruition. Maybe it didn’t happen the way I dreamt, but it’s still mine” you shook your head with surprise as you articulated your clandestine thoughts for the first time. “Still think you’re one of my best students, Miller” you whispered toyingly, noticing Joel’s cheeks gain a pinkish tint as his chest rumbled in affirmation.
“Looking forward to those oral exams, whenever you feel ready” Joel jested, drawing you in for an extended, passionate kiss. You sighed quietly into his mouth, before he pensively pulled back. “Don’t want you to feel like you have to keep secrets with me” he mused, bringing his forehead tenderly to yours.
You breathed one another in for several minutes before you hesitantly whispered, “Feel the same way Joel. You know you can tell me anything”. Joel sighed a deep breath of contemplation, rallying himself for the next step.
“Ellie mentioned…my Sarah?” he mumbled, gazing downward so much so that you only saw the beauty of his lashes flitting quickly.
“YOU mentioned Sarah…” Joel’s quick intake of air at her name, flashed painfully across his face and yours, as his eyesight rose haltingly to catch your own.
“When…?” he croaked, before closing his eyes in remembrance. “That night…I couldn’t get her outta my head” he nodded, thinking back on the drunken conversation several weeks ago. “The patrol was a nightmare. And…worried about Ellie and you…” he trailed off, trying to piece together the sketchy details, but just reflecting on Sarah’s smile. “You’d’ve liked her” his voice cracked sweetly as you abruptly grasped him around the torso, smashing your face into his chest.
“You don’t have to say anything” the tears welled up within you, desperate to somehow remove the searing pain of loss.
“Not much to tell now” he nearly whimpered. “I had her…and then…I didn’t. Coulda done more. S’my fault…” his throat closed with emotion as you squeezed him tighter still.
“I see the way you love Ellie” you managed to get out thickly. “Can’t convince me otherwise. I know a good dad when I see one…” you encouraged, reaching up to wipe away your tears cascading into Joel’s telltale plaid shirt.
“Nothing I wouldn’t do for that girl” his voice took on a serrated edge, as you pulled back to gaze at him appraisingly. “She mention anything about…how we came to Jacksonville?” he faltered, unsure of his next steps.
“She told me about The Preacher” you swallowed dryly, watching a flicker of rage pass over Joel’s face quickly as he nodded curtly.
“There’s things…” he tried to continue but was steadily growing more tense “…things you don’t know about Ellie. Or me…” he bit down hard, his mouth a thin line of resolution, watching your eyes narrow judiciously before placing a single finger over his lips wisely.
“What have you done to yourself?” you murmured rhetorically as Joel’s eyes painfully closed, a single tear disappearing into the scruff of his beard. And there you stayed, held in one another’s arms for the evening, until finding a restless sleep. It was early dawn when you disentangled yourselves from one another’s embrace, shakily starting the next day, and whatever the unknown future might hold.
The next day you were scheduled to meet with Tommy and Maria to discuss future administrative plans for the commune. Maria’s pregnancy was really starting to show, and you didn’t dare ask when her potential due date was. You could feel the palpable excitement and tension in the air as you joined them in the town meeting hall.
“Joel doesn’t want to interfere with commune business” Tommy began, shuffling some papers hurriedly before him.
“Give him a gun and a cause…” Maria shook her head disapprovingly, avoiding Tommy’s reproachful gaze.
“Come on darlin’…” Tommy chastised, sounding once again like his older brother, in voice as much as demeanor. “Told ya we can trust him” Tommy began before Maria halted him silently.
“I know when townsfolk are holding secrets” Maria reprimanded, looking over at you apologetically. “No offense, Teach, just a gift I have. Investigating. Used to be a lawyer in the time before. Comes naturally to me. I know a sinner from a saint, and they’re often one and the same” she wisely observed, before reflecting a bit further. “Except that Levi, for one…” she inhaled skeptically, quickly glancing over at you for confirmation.
“Levi isn’t someone you want around any longer than is absolutely necessary” you bluntly stated, pleased with your growing sense of self-confidence. Maybe Joel was starting to rub off on you.
“I hate to be so beholden to him after their last minute redemptive strike…” she pensively acquiesced.
“Even Joel said he might not have made it back without their assistance…” Tommy chimed in begrudgingly. Joel hadn’t mentioned that. Granted, this was before Levi’s full intentions were known, but were you really willing to sacrifice Joel’s well being for your own discomfort? Maybe there was some kind of olive branch you could extend, making the future somewhat tolerable. You had changed. Maybe other people could too.
“Maybe we could give them some kind of test” you ventured, pursing your lips thoughtfully.
“Alright, Teach!” Tommy cheered, clocking Maria’s chagrin. “Pop quiz time!”
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, getting a small indication of the Miller playfulness that often lurked mischievously beneath.
“Maybe we send them out on our next dangerous patrol, and keep them on a steady leash” Maria agreed, taking notes in her own administrative notebook. “Good idea…”. Tommy gave a quick clandestine wink that brought a victorious smile to your face, perhaps motivating your next point.
“Regarding…our dinner conversation” you began, before Maria stopped you.
“Water under the bridge…” she tutted, not lifting her eyes from the notebook. You and Tommy shared a pregnant pause, as he returned your gaze definitively.
“We all have a past. Don’t mean we can’t have a future” Tommy succinctly encouraged, eliciting a curt nod from Maria.
“Some secrets should probably stay hidden” you muttered under your breath, reflecting on Joel’s past admonition, noticing Tommy shift uncomfortable in his chair. Maria was breathing steadily across from you, still not looking up.
“You talk to Joel?” she quirked her head to the side, looking at Tommy knowingly before he averted eye contact.
“He said enough” you intimated, sensing the growing tension, though somewhat unaware of its origin. “Told me about Sarah” you finished, attempting to gauge the telepathic conversation happening between the married couple.
“He mention anything else?” Maria probed, Tommy gripping the edges of the table in a stylistically Miller fashion.
“Darlin’…” he warned, shaking his head slightly, in earnest.
Maria clamped her mouth shut skeptically as her brow furrowed in conflict. “I’m not sure how much my….brother in-law might have revealed” she began, weighing her words carefully. “Truth will out” she finally decided, sitting back in her chair resolutely. Tommy sighed a heavy breath, closing his eyes fixedly.
Truth will out. In Jacksonville you had found a new home and a new start. But perhaps there were some things that should ultimately remain in the past. You thought on Joel’s near confession, and the sheer depth of knowledge you lacked about Ellie, Sarah and so much more. Would it be possible for Levi and his group to somehow fit into the commune without disrupting the precarious new start you had finally crafted for yourself? Or was the future forever fated to be doomed by elements of the past? You wanted to believe in new beginnings. You wanted to believe in love. And more than anything you wanted to know Joel Miller for who he truly was. But as you reflected on your own secrets and the apocalyptic territory you were barely surviving, perhaps there was more still to the enigmatic narrative of Joel and Ellie.
But in this moment, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to find out.
You and Pedge go to the Brooklyn Museum of Art and Botanical Gardens. It's mostly a love letter to NYC and all us artists living the dream.
Triggers: profanity, discussion of orientation, reference to 9/11, lite smut, friends with benefits, RPF...
Series Masterlist
You were approaching your final week in the Big Apple and things were starting to come together. The show had finally progressed to a designer run, which happened to coincide with Pedro’s callback. You stood in the corner, fidgeting as family and friends cascaded into the small studio room and a table of creatives cast an intimidating presence over the entire proceeding. It was time. You were ready, but all the more nervous wondering what everyone would think. But honestly, there was only one opinion you truly cared about. You heaved a heavy sigh of disappointment, realizing THAT someone was missing, but desperately wanted to connect with your cast-mates before this final run. The cast gathered together for a quick circle-up, as the room began to silence in focus and artistry. Heading to your opening marks, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and gazing forward, happily saw a familiar figure sneak in through the closing door, quickly giving you a thumb’s up.
Pedge.
Merde.
Here we go…
The room had turned into a bit of a sauna, but the audience was gracious in their applause and congratulations as you hit your final bows. You made quick eye contact with Pedge, who gave you a wink and a nod, biting his lower lip with approval. Pausing before notes and feedback the room started to dissipate as cast members breathed a sigh of relief, ready to head into the out of town tech and eventual opening night. Pedge slung his backpack over his shoulder, shuffling towards you through a sea of excited individuals and laughing audience members. He approached with silent applause, mouth agape…
“Oh my gosh, you didn’t suck!!!” he joked, before crumpling under your playful barrage of punches and tickles. Gathering you up in an embrace and picking you up slightly he whispered in your ear.
“That was fucking amazing. Way to go J” and your heart grew about three sizes. You breathed heavily in his arms, relieved that the most challenging aspect of the day was done. As he set you down, your eyebrows shot up to your forehead.
“Soooo…how’d it go? Am I watching you on Netflix AND HBO soon?” you clandestinely inquired, pulling Pedge over to a corner.
“Come on, this moment is about you” he deflected, but under your watchful gaze could see that you weren’t easily detoured.
“There were executives there” he chuckled.
“Really???” you squealed as he shushed you cautiously.
“Yeah, I must have missed that in translation. I thought I was just gonna be a place holder, but I was there for like an hour plus.”
“Geeeeeez” you intoned, nodding your head. “I’m already imagining the Narcos merch with your face plastered all over it”.
He rubbed his shoulder awkwardly, blushing slightly. “That doesn’t hardly seem likely” he rolled his eyes. “But it was nice to be taken seriously!” he leaned forward grasping you around the waist, “I think our scene work last night really made a difference”. You felt your heat twitch unexpectedly with the close proximity of his facial hair to your ear, and if the room hadn’t been so oppressively hot, you probably would have burst into goose bumps on the spot. You felt your face flush with arousal, hoping no one in the room would notice.
“I guess I have a job as an intimacy coach if this whole acting thing doesn’t work out” you smiled, locking eyes with him pointedly.
“Yeah, I might just have to utilize your personal expertise” he returned the smile as the production manager attempted to get control of the room.
“Okay, we are celebrating tonight, text me when you finish up. I’m taking you to the Brooklyn Museum of Art, and we can enjoy your last night in New York!”. Your heart dropped into your stomach, realizing the duality of the moment. You were excited to begin your big adventure but sad at the ever-changing landscape of the performance industry.
“Deal” you swallowed, thankful for the camaraderie and support, hoping he didn’t catch your eyes misting over with emotion. He kissed you on the cheek and made his way through the congratulatory sea of humanity.
Your cast-mate immediately joined you in curiosity. “Ummm, who’s that cutie patootie?” he asked. “Bi, straight, boyfriend, husband, poly, trans, ace cookie?” he rattled off eliciting a small chuckle from you. You hadn’t really stopped to think about it during your quick friendship, and the theater crowd was a pretty…fluid…bunch. But catching Pedge’s eye before exiting the studio, he blew you a small kiss, as you and your cast mate both sighed reflexively.
“Who carezzzz?” you giggled simultaneously.
The day couldn’t have gone better, as far as you were concerned, but you found your mind wandering during notes and feedback. Final night in New York. Your heart lurched slightly at the realization that this magical leg of the journey was coming to a close. This wasn’t really a DTR moment, but how were you going to say goodbye? This entire trip had been bookended by an incredible friendship, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You hoped Pedge was aware of that. Grabbing your script and notes you hurried out the door, heading back to your Airbnb to freshen up. You pulled a little purple sundress out of your suitcase, opting for boots over heels, having learned a painful lesson in the first week of slogging it through the Concrete Jungle. How were you going to say goodbye? It’s not like either of you had expected something different. Right? You tied your hair up with a colorful bow, texting Pedge to meet you at the Brooklyn Museum of Art in about an hour, and bounced out the door gleefully.
You weren’t sure what constituted a New York state of mind, but this had to be close. The city had been nothing but welcoming to you, and after 9/11 it was so heartening to see the city back to its original fervor. You might have fallen in love in more ways than one, you beamed, heading down the stairwell to catch the train to the Brooklyn Museum of Art, wondering what expectations Pedge had, if any. This friendship had unlocked something inside of you that was exciting and new, but was it just another interaction in a city of strangers? You found yourself exiting the train station without entirely realizing how you had arrived at your location, besieged by thoughts and ruminations about what lay in store. Maybe you built up an entire New York fantasy in your own mind. Laughing in incredulity you exited the train station to find Pedge waiting at the entrance, hiding a bouquet of flowers and conspicuous balloon peaking out from behind his back. His beaming smile oscillated somewhere between boastful and shy as you took in his coifed appearance.
Lavender button down shirt, dark jeans, brown shoes, and a smile that would light up all of Time Square and beyond. You bit your lower lip in anticipation. Maybe you hadn’t misread the signals. Maybe this WAS something special. You swallowed dryly, nearly skipping up to him with excitement.
“It’s too much, right?” he blushed, outstretching his arms in supplication and shrugging placatingly.
“I think it’s just right” you hugged him around the waist, surprising him with your fervor. Looking up into his eyes, you held one another’s gaze for what felt like an eternity, moving closer and closer, like two small magnets. Just as his eyes fluttered shut, poised before your lips, a gust of wind blew the small balloon out of his hand and up into the stormy skies. He chuckled with surprise, grasping after it to no avail. Watching the little balloon drift higher and higher you questioned its surprising message dotting the horizon.
“Hope you feel better soon?” you giggled. “Is that all they had at Duane Reade?”.
“I meannnn….a designer run is a lot of work, I can only assume…we all want to feel better…all the time?” he laughed, tugging you around the waist and leading you into the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Handing off the flowers to an elderly couple on their way out you took Pedge’s hand, happy for these last moments in the city that had quite easily stolen your heart. This had truly been an amazing adventure, and Pedge had opened your heart to the wonders that could await someone living a life of freedom and creativity. The moment seemed to crackle with electricity, as you both spent the first thirty minutes, not saying very much. Stolen glances. Fingertips brushing. Blushing cheeks. It was all so delightful in its simplicity. Just two people. In a museum. Enjoying the moment.
Pausing in front of the Egyptian Collection you regarded his manicured appearance.
“You look real good, Pedge” you smiled. “Is there a special occasion?” you inquired.
He reddened slightly, tucking his hands in his back pockets. “Maybe. Wanted to celebrate your tour.” He rocked back and forth on his heels expectantly. “You did great today!” he smiled, deflecting the attention back on to you.
“Oh my gosh, you haven’t even told me about your callback!” your mouth dropped open with embarrassment, as a security guard shushed you. “And I didn’t even ask! I’m so sorry!” you whispered, “I want to hear everything!”
“Eh, not much to tell” he replied dolefully. “There WERE a number of executives there, which threw me off for a second. I don’t know why the agency didn’t mention that. Or maybe they did, and I was so nervous I forgot. We ran the scene, and it was fine, I guess. They only had a monitor, can you believe it? It was a good thing you and I rehearsed beforehand, it was like acting with a piece of cardboard this morning…” he rolled his eyes in frustration. “I don’t know how they expect us to elicit the kind of intimacy needed if I’m gonna be reading with an automaton!” he exclaimed, receiving a high spirited shushing from the same security guard.
You both started laughing profusely as you moved on to the American Art Display. Stopping in front of the “Unknown Woman” you gazed up at her enigmatic countenance and back at Pedge. “What do you think?” you asked light-heartedly, ready for another quick retort, but Pedge just kept staring and breathing deeply.
“I think…she knows something we don’t” he surmised, licking his lips tentatively.
“Really?” you questioned with curiosity, squinting into her unreadable facial expression, grasping at what little art knowledge you possessed.
“Yeah, she seems like…even though she’s mysterious, or translucent…or disappearing or something…there’s a contentment in that. She’s okay with it. She’s happy to just…be. Happy to be in the moment she’s in. Happy to be alive”.
“Yeah” you nodded, sighing deeply, and then, surprised to discover that Pedge was no longer looking at the artwork but gazing intently at you.
“Remind you of anyone?” you joked, dipping a finger into his front jean pocket and pulling slightly.
He took a jerky step towards you, nearly bumping into your chest. “Not off the top of my head” he teased quizzically, eyebrows arching up the ceiling.
You smiled with self-deprecation, feeling a shift in your tonality. “I’m sad to be leaving tomorrow” looking around the relatively empty room with a little melancholy and fidgeting with discomfort. “I’m not sure I could have done this without you, Pedge. Just a California girl, I guess”.
He brought his hand up, tilting your chin towards his, “My pleasure” he tutted “You just needed a little push. And a subway map! Geez woman, you DO get lost everywhere, don’t you?” he laughed, tucking that pesky lock of hair behind your ear once again. You smiled broadly without argument. It was true. Perhaps geographically challenged, but intuitively able to find exactly where you needed to be, and who you wanted to be with. Enjoying the journey just as much as the destination. You took his hand tenderly, bringing it up to your heart. “Well, not all who wander are lost. I just want you to know, I really appreciate it”. Momentarily dumbfounded, he smiled simply, bringing your hand up to his mouth for a quick kiss.
Heading out of the museum, Pedge looked up into the stormy skies. “Geez, looks like New York isn’t entirely happy about your leaving” he pondered, biting his lower lip in confusion. “I’d thought we could go to the Botanical Gardens, but now I’m not sure!”. The sky rumbled with a bit of foreboding.
“Let’s go!” you exclaimed, pulling him forward amidst the steadily growing winds and darkening skies. “I’m not leaving without one more adventure!” He laughed appraisingly as you skipped down the street with abandon. Pedge had unlocked your heart in a way nobody else had. Who knows, maybe New York had something to do with that too. All you knew was that you were happy, you were grateful and you were ready. Ready for what, you weren’t entirely sure, but enjoying the journey as much as the destination. You headed into the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens feeling a few fat droplets of rain punctuate the ground rhythmically.
“So far so good?” Pedge questioned, breathing in the saturated grass and darkening sidewalks. You began strolling through the Fragrance Garden, Celebrity Path, Daffodil Hilll…
Pedge paused in his steps to cast his arms out to the side in frivolity. “We’ve got the whole gardens to ourselves!” he shouted, cringing upon hearing a booming, thunderous clap above him.
You brought a hand to your mouth in playful chagrin, wondering at heaven’s response. “We might be running out of time Pedge!” you shouted, walking backwards towards the Japanese Hill and Pond Garden. Pedro’s eyes widened to saucer size, running towards you and grabbing you around the waist before you nearly fell over backwards into the Koi Pond. You both started laughing hysterically as another thunderous BOOM! led to an immediate downpour. Giggling with surprise you grasped hands, slipping and sliding to the nearest botanical hot house and flinging the door open to humid, fragrant heat. Your laughter slowed to a halt as Pedge found both arms wrapped around your waist in dripping anticipation. The heavy patter of rain rhythmically lulled you both into a hypnotic silence as Pedge began swaying from side to side.
“What are you doing?” you whispered, unwilling to break the magnetic connection between you.
“Just wanted a dance” he whispered back, pulling you in closer and taking a deep breath at the crook of your neck.
“Pedge….” you allowed yourself a moment of enjoyment, listening to the rain pitter patter above you as heaven roared dully in protestation. “I’m leaving tomorrow….what does this even mean?”
He pulled back for a second taking your chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger. “It doesn’t HAVE to mean anything” he pondered, plastering a dopey smile across his face. “It’s just a moment, and we can decide whatever we want.” You smiled in recognition, giving in to any last minute hesitations and melding your body against his. Swaying back and forth you caught a quick refrain of his humming.
“Is that Prince?” you muttered into his shoulder, smelling his deodorant and cologne in a heady, rain soaked musk. Pedge suddenly pulled back abruptly, shaking you gently by the shoulders and shouting for high heaven, “ONLY WANT TO SEE YOU DANCING IN THE PURPLE RAIN!!!!”
Purple Rain
Your mouth dropped open in surprise before joining him, “PURPLE RAIN! PURPLE RAIN! PURPLE RAIN, PURPLE RAIN!”. You chuckled, lightly fingering the buttons at his lavender shirt, becoming slightly intoxicated on the seductive mist of rain, flowers and dirt. And then it was happening. You weren’t thinking. You were being drawn towards one another, without time, space or intentionality. You were kissing. You were breathing each other in and out. Lips locked in the wet ambition of desire, you drew your arms around him, tucking your hands into the back pockets of his jeans and grasping lightly. Pedge’s hips jerked forward in surprise as he grinned into your mouth with delight.
“What does THAT mean?” he joked softly, as a blush began creeping up your cheeks with embarrassment, noticing the stiffening length outlined against his pants.
“I think our intimacy exercises are paying off?” you tittered back at him, pressing in for another kiss before jolting with surprise. “Is that your phone vibrating, or are you just happy to see me?” you taunted, gripping his lower lip between your teeth gently.
“Soooooo not important” Pedge growled, dipping his tongue tentatively into your mouth, and then with more fervor.
“Pedggggge” you moaned, sighing contentedly and then pulling back. “It could be important…”.
He paused, with eyes closed, breathing deeply until you both met each others’ intense gaze.
“NARCOS!” you both exclaimed. Pedge fumbled for the phone, attempting to wrestle it out of his front pocket which was irritatingly rain soaked. You both clawed at the space, laughing nervously as the phone nearly slipped from his desperate grasp. You began jumping up and down, clapping your hands quickly in anticipation.
“This is Pedro Pascal, how may I direct your call?” he intoned with a devious smirk.
You stilled completely, trying to read every micro-expression. He turned his back quietly to you responding in almost conspiratorial undertones, “Really? Yes. Okay. Got it. Alright. I think I understand. Thank you”. And then the call was done.
He stood with his back to you, completely still as you swallowed loudly, frozen smile stuck to your face. “WELL???” you finally shouted, matched only by the corresponding BOOM that thudded heavily in the distance. You fixed yourself to rush into his arms in congratulatory embrace, until he turned with an unreadable expression save for the swimming pools of emotion in his chocolate-colored eyes.
“It’s a no” he said, a bit numbly, and in apparent defeat. “I didn’t get it”.
*Spoiler Alert: I feel like things might improve for our hero, but you don't have to take MY word for it.
Alright, we don't know much about "The Uninvited" but I'm excited to stream it come November. And I KNOW y'all have seen that kissy kissy footage, thank you very much. Thanksgiving can't cum soon enough...
WIP Wednesday. Um, who do I think I am having SIX open series at the same time? Well, whatever. Much like our guy, I try not to censor myself.
Who Wants to Trick or Treat?
Pike's Place; New Episode Halloween
Pedro-Tober
My Darling Muse
Pedge's Jukebox
Outside of one musical in high school, I'm fairly certain Pedge is not a self-proclaimed musician. HOWEVER, as a professional musician myself I can't help but notice that doesn't seem to stop him from vocalizing every chance he can and I am EUPHORIC. I love combining reality with fantasy, and while I'm sure this isn't a new Tumblr concept, I'm going to be cataloguing our Pedro Boys as per Pedge's suggestions! All playlists will attempt to utilize music or groups that our beloved has referenced at some point. Get your headphones and enjoy!
I'm fairly certain our guy HATES the laugh/cry meme even though we love it. But have you ever watched this full production of "I, My Ruination"? It is absolutely gorgeous and Pedge really shines in his theatrical spotlight.
Act One Act Two
I think cinema is his first love, and we'll be able to enjoy him for years to come, but maybe someday he'll circle back around to us Broadway Babies...
*don't forget to clock the technical faux pas which we love almost as much
Grab a Latte! lounge around in the foyer with this sweet fic "Coffee Shop Date" @mermaidgirl30 before heading into the Bookshop!
Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, implied PTSD/anxiety attack, accidental surprise attack, this series will feature MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment" so start readin' now!
Series Masterlist
Words: 3k
The cold winter breeze stung the bitter rosebud of your cheeks as you folded your arms tightly against the bracing barrage. Another Christmas at the compound. It had been several years since your acceptance into the sterling community, and every initial interaction had been one of desperation and gratitude. You had enjoyed setting up the small school for teenagers and children, embracing the tenuous comfort and security of a fledgling society fighting for its life and every day had seemed like a small miracle. But with the passage of time and cessation of minute to minute survival risks, you paled at your recent discovery; life had become repetitive, and even dull.
Watching the happy children circling around the main street tree, couples laughing contentedly and home made gifts being passed from household to household, you were immensely thankful for every miraculous circumstance. But you couldn’t help but reflect on the adage that mankind was made for more than survival. The nuances of your solitary life had begun to weigh heavily upon you, and you wondered if anyone in the commune could understand the gaping hole that solitude brought, in a world that was already so isolated. Trudging down the epicenter of town you smiled politely as families passed you, waving at some of your students and finally stopping at the new storefront at the end of the thoroughfare.
The shop had remained unoccupied for years, until you noticed a lone individual carrying boxes of lumber and tools every week for a month. It wasn’t someone you immediately recognized, but scuttlebutt around town said that Tommy’s brother had arrived with a passenger in tow. That wayfarer had turned out to be Ellie, one of your most artistic and insightful learners in the cornucopia of students that you advised once or twice a week, when patrols and other duties allowed. The only thing you knew about her apparent guardian, Joel, was that he wasn’t available for conference, and largely kept to himself in the eating area. No one had said much, but you weren’t oblivious to the sideway glances and general foreboding that seemed to emanate from his demeanor. This was a man not to be trifled with, and he couldn’t seem to care less about any of the things that mattered so much to you. His whole being seemed to scream, “stay away”, so you did. Ellie was more than capable of handling herself, and truthfully you couldn’t blame him. In a world that was collapsing in on itself, survival was the only truly connective tissue. Everything else seemed like a luxury.
Stopping in front of the wide-paned windows, your jaw dropped slightly at the unexpected sight; books. Scores and scores of BOOKS! With the inaccessibility of technology, tablets were a thing of the past, and it had been countless years since you had set foot in a library of any kind. WHERE did all these books come from? Tentatively pausing at the door stop, you shook the smattering of snow from your head and shoulders and entered the warmth of the bookshop, accompanied by the small chime of a bell.
Letting the door shut behind you, you gazed wondrously at the craftsmanship of the front desk which was littered with empty mugs and assorted papers. There were shelves full of mismatched books, magazines and papers and a beautiful staircase leading up to a sparse upper level that held chairs, pillows and quilts. Breathing deeply you smelled the telltale fragrance of the written word, your eyes welling up with emotion. The Barnes and Nobles of the post-apocalyptic world had come to fruition here in the Jackson Commune, and you apparently had Joel Miller to thank for it. As if that weren’t idyllic enough, a small, beleaguered looking orange tabby lazily trotted towards you encircling your ankles and rubbing up against your calves with affection. Another solo journeyman. “Well hello there!” you whispered, immediately enchanted with the fantastical sight that greeted you unexpectedly. Maybe you’d read Joel Miller wrong. Was this really a literary utopia of his making?
Wandering down the center aisle you were immediately intrigued by the myriad of material available. As the town instructor, you could make good use of this new resource, but not in the current state of affairs. There was apparently no rhyme or reason to the organization of texts, as you thumbed through the selection haphazardly. Noticing a nearly ancient copy of Playboy propped up against “War and Peace” you smirked sardonically. Perfect for the sex education and history curriculum combo? Perhaps Joel could use some assistance…
Having a treasure trove like this at your disposal was going to be a tremendous asset, but it was definitely a diamond in the rough. Beggars can’t be choosers, and many of the books available were limping through their own existence, much like the residence of the Jackson Commune. Water damage, fire, moths…Some of the books seemed to be missing their covers, and entire sections of material were potentially lost for the ages. You pouted with dismay, reminiscing about the hours spent devouring the classics, poetry, and scientific discoveries—hoping to bring even a snippet of that educational power house to the children and teenagers in your care.
Rounding the corner your breath hitched hesitantly in your throat as you noticed the back of the broad shouldered individual before you. Clad in a comfortable plaid shirt that hugged his body snugly you recognized the peppered locks of hair framing the back of his head. My literary benefactor, you pondered, approaching quietly with the tabby prancing by your feet. You cleared your throat timidly, reaching up to touch his shoulder delicately.
Before a single word left your mouth the tall figure before you turned on their heel, dropping the book to the floor as the tabby skittered away in fright. A muscled forearm shoved you up against the bookshelf, pinning you down as a broad thigh locked between your legs in dominance. The breath completely left your body as sharp eyes seemed to penetrate your very soul—questioning your identity, your intentions, your presence…all furrowed under the passionate brows of the fire-like gaze that split the air like a knife. As though transformed by an unknown motivation, the dark eyes immediately softened, pulling back quickly as you dropped slightly forward to your knees, coughing with irritation.
“What’dya want?” Joel’s eyes were a penetrative mask of skepticism, but his tone was laced with the smallest tinge of penitence.
“Jesus, Joel!” you sputtered, rubbing at your neck tenderly and attempting to calm your pounding, adrenaline fueled heartbeat. “What the hell?” you choked, sliding down the bookshelf and plopping yourself down on the floor unceremoniously.
“Don’t hear so good anymore” Joel mumbled, dropping cautiously down on one knee and wincing with the effort. His expression was already shifting as he looked over your body with assessment, and….something else. “You hurt?” he questioned, scooping up the book with a large paw and placing his other heavy hand on your outstretched leg.
Shooing his hand away with annoyance you noticed the orange tabby peak its head out from behind the bookshelf inquisitively. “Is this how you greet all your customers, Miller?’ you spat out vehemently, pulling your knees up to your body defensively, more embarrassed at yourself than actually wounded.
“Shouldn’t sneak up on people like that” Joel offered, as though explaining his over-reaction to a satisfactory degree. “Look, uh…you’ll have to come back. We’re not quite ready for guests yet” he decided, as the cat lazily returned, bumping its head against Joel’s knee good naturedly.
“Goddam, will ya let me get up off the floor first?!” you retorted, swallowing dryly as your heartbeat settled into a more steady rhythm. Joel paused, swallowing hard and rubbing at the back of his neck dolefully.
“Srry, I shoulda put up the sign. Just gettin’ started…” he begrudgingly apologized, reaching out for your hand as he tiredly stood, now towering above you. “Let me help ya up”. You squinted skeptically at his hand as though waiting for a bomb to explode, as Joel stood resolutely, waiting for your acquiescence. “I’m Joel, by the way”.
“I know who you are Miller” you grunted, heaving yourself up and swatting his outstretched hand to the side. “Can you say the same about me?” Joel placed his hand defiantly on his hip, hiding the book slightly behind his back and looking at your appraisingly.
“School-teach” he gruffly answered sizing you up for the pocket change you were, compared to his lumbering figure. “Ellie likes you a lot” he proffered, potentially as a peace offering. The orange tabby slinked between you, unenthusiastically, in search of its next distraction. You bit your lower lip with reticence, surprised that Joel even knew who you were. Maybe you weren’t quite as isolated as you thought.
“Missed you at parent…I mean, uh…teacher conference this last Fall. Too busy?” you tentatively accused, ignoring your growing curiosity of the book Joel was surreptitiously hiding behind his back.
Joel cleared his throat awkwardly, “Patrol has me pretty occupied. Well, that and procurin’ these books. Ellie’s got a thing for certain books…” he mused, starting to relax a bit in your presence now that the imagined danger was abating.
“Well thanks…uh…for your service. Ellie is a remarkable student, you must be doing something right there” you stated, matter-a-factly, suddenly becoming more awkward by the minute.
“S’no problem. I like reading’ too, when I have the time” a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth in a drawl and you nearly melted on the spot. You hadn’t seen THAT before. This man might be dangerous in more ways than one. The silence hung in the air like a steely icicle beginning to melt. He’s not so scary, you silently mused, watching Joel scan your face for micro expressions, as though encountering a wounded animal. Your defenses were lowering a bit as you quickly grabbed for the book he was hiding, finally gaining a temporary upper hand.
Walking down the aisle with Joel trotting after you like the orange tabby, you observed, “Looks like you could use some help, Miller. Doesn’t seem like you know anything about the Dewey Decimal system” plopping yourself down on the pillowed, ornate wooden chair near the storefront window you continued to feign confidence. “Did you make this?” you suddenly blurted out, fingering the deep, polished mahogany wood and marveling at the craftsmanship.
“S’no trouble” Joel grunted, a light reddish tinge gracing his cheeks and neck. Oh this man was going to be a problem, you realized, finally gazing down at the “secret” book Joel had been perusing.
“Crime and Punishment??” you balked, mouth agape in surprise, “THIS is what you’ve selected for some light reading?” you scoffed, fingering the pages delicately and gazing at Joel anew. Who WAS Joel Miller?
“Uh…I’m only into the first few chapters” Joel deflected, stuffing his hands tightly in his jean pockets as the tabby reappeared, jumping into your lap cozily. “There’s more important things than readin’ I guess” he cleared his throat, somewhat juxtaposed by his month-long labor of love. You scoffed inwardly, basking in the steadily purring rhythm of the cat’s hum and sitting back in the sturdy chair.
“I don’t know, it seems like the real moments of survival make you more appreciative of what it means to be alive” you introspected. “What it means to be human…”. Joel guiltily looked around the room as though caught somehow in a hidden indulgence, but relaxed his posture watching you stroke the cat affectionately.
“Nice to have some quiet” Joel finally agreed, jaunting over to the front desk and clearing the space haphazardly. You leafed through the worn pages and frayed edges of the cover, harkening back in your memory to your first reading of the classic.
“The names are a doozy” you joked, peaking over at Joel’s curious expression hovering behind the counter. “Svidrigailove, Raskolnifkov?…”.
“Don’t know that first fella” Joel confessed. “I just call the other guy “Rascal” and try to keep everybody straight in my head. Guess the world wasn’t so easy before the infected, anyways” he reflected, leaning against the empty bookshelf behind him. “Lots of poverty, hurtin’ people, questions. Governments that don’t know what they’re doing. People’ll do just about anything to get what they need” he nodded, as though convincing himself.
You cocked one eyebrow, skimming through the book and arriving at chapter six. “Have you…already experienced the…crime part of crime and punishment?” hesitant to give away important details but secretly desperate to enjoy a conversation with another adult.
“Yeah, just reached…uh, just reached the murder when you walked in. Mighta had me a little jumpy” he admitted, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing at his sternum, as he shifted in place. You pursed your lips thoughtfully, trying to judge his conflicted expression. Nothing about this world seemed very easy when fighting for your very survival.
“Maybe that Playboy is a little more up your alley?” you jested, attempting to change the subject, but Joel seemed lost in his own train of thought.
“Rascal’s got me hooked. I didn’t really think he’d do it. I mean…I know he was desperate, but it doesn’t make much sense.” Joel paused with a weightiness, his body sagging under the reality, “I guess dyin’ never does” he finished quickly, still lost in a world unknown to you, but steadily and magnetically pulling you in. Joel wasn’t bombastic, but his words held an enigmatic depth of feeling. You took an indulgent moment to really look at his bearing, studying his labrythine expression and admiring his broad stature. This man was built for survival, and just the type of individual the commune needed. You just hadn’t realized there was a beating heart and an inquisitive mind underneath all that…plaid. Resting your elbow on the armchair and propping your head against the palm of your hand you began to feel more optimistically purposeful than you had in a long time.
“I’m going to help you” you declared, rising to your feet as the tabby scampered away huffily.
“Don’t need any help” Joel observed, placing his hands definitively on the front desk, his lips a tight line of resistance.
“Okay, ‘Rascal’ I think we both know that’s not true” you tossed the book jovially in the air as Joel caught it anxiously, and drawing it to his chest like the rarity it was. “Do you usually place your copies of Playboy alongside ‘War and Peace’?” you joked, broadly gesturing with your hand to the developing book shop.
“Huh?” Joel quirked, suddenly turning a brighter shade of red and pulling the book behind him conspiratorially. “I don’t read that stuff…” he murmured, placing the book hurriedly under the counter as though afraid you might snatch it from his grasp once again.
“Oh maybe you should, Miller, I hear they have really good ‘articles’” you chided, as Joel froze in place before huffing out a relieved breath.
“Yeah, I’ll do that” he rolled his eyes adolescently, suddenly unsure of where to place his hands and finally settling on returning them to his hips. “What kind of help? You’re not expecting…uh…payment of some kind?’ he immediately interrogated, a thread of incredulity lacing his tone.
“Trust me, being around…here…is payment enough. It’s been ages since I talked about anything besides arithmetic and agriculture” you moped, silently wondering what other discoveries awaited your probing eyes, and you weren’t just curious about the literature. Maybe you can’t judge a book by its cover, you surmised, steadily becoming more and more intrigued with the plaid-snuggled figure before you. Call it good teacher research. Yeah, research, you reasoned, already planning your next curriculum expansion with the help of Joel’s library. A world of possibilities was stretching out before you, if Joel were amenable to the newfound friendship.
“I can’t pay you” Joel repeated stubbornly as the cat leapt onto the front desk, stretching itself languidly.
“Do I look like I need a W-2 form, Miller? Hanging out with you is payment enough…” you let slip before biting down on your lower lip with embarrassment. Whoops. Cats out of the bag. Joel’s expression brightened for just a millisecond before shifting back to its original mask of stoicism. Sauntering around the front desk with purpose he poised in front of you, arms folded securely across his broad chest, before extending a decisive hand.
“You’ve got a deal” he waited, before you excitedly grasped his hand in agreement, your small fingers completely enveloped in his vice-like grip. Shaking one another’s hands for an extended period of time, the tabby meowed non-plussed as you nearly lost yourself in Joel’s steely stare. Breaking the silence you both took a step back, looking down at the ground awkwardly.
“What’s the c-cat’s name?” you stuttered, unsure of how to proceed next, as Joel turned around, poking the cat teasingly. The orange tabby swatted a small paw at Joel’s larger one, wrapping itself around his wrist and biting at the flannel edges.
“Don’t know. Just call him ‘cat’ for now.” Joel grunted, tilting his head to the side. You didn’t really believe in love at first sight, but then again the books might be warping your perception of reality.
“Well, I’m thinking ‘Rascal’ is a good option if you’re taking votes” you suggested, stuffing your hands in the back pockets of your jeans, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Noted” Joel smirked, holding your gaze pointedly until you felt your cheeks redden with the unexpected attention.
“Alright, I’ll just go, but I’ll be back tomorrow to collect your homework assignment” you teased, stifling the desire to kick his foot playfully, and opting to turn on your heel to make a quick exit.
“Homework?” Joel’s voice echoed after you as you flung the door open to the bitter cold.
“Yeah, tell that ‘Rascal’ to get to work! I want to hear all about the murder and Dostoyevsky’s thematic approach to crime, self-punishment and the purpose of suffering!” you melodically announced as the sounds of mainstream wafted in to the otherwise silent bookstore. The orange tabby pranced towards the back room, seemingly offended by the winter bluster.
“Not sure cats know much about Dostoyevsky” Joel answered, leaning on the front desk and taking a quick glance at your receding figure.
“No worries. He might not know much about Dostoyevsky, but even a cat knows something about suffering” you chided, watching a flicker of darkness shade Joel’s countenance before it immediately disappeared. “Catch you tomorrow, Miller!” you bantered, closing the door behind you, and accompanied by the characteristic shop bell upon exit.
Bracing yourself against the onslaught of frigidity, you somehow felt inwardly warmed by the unexpected friendship, and curiosity of a new project. Perhaps this holiday season held more than just obligation or solitude. Against your better judgement you turned back to gaze at the storefront, seeing Joel’s silhouette, unchanged, leaning against the mahogany counter and looking fixedly in your direction. Damn. So much for nonchalance, you scoffed, secretly counting the minutes until your literary reunion and enjoying the satisfying crunch of collected snowfall beneath your booted feet.
GIF by @iamasaddie
Oh man, let it be me. Me next.
#man biscuits #a girl can dream #meow #childless cat lady much #insert pussy joke
LOVE this movie. HATE this character. Pedge says he was in his Rageful Era, but come this Halloween I want all my options available, and this Pedro Boy is one of the scariest. It's a little creepy...but I like it...#murdermedaddy
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.
I'm a 40+ Sexy, Saucy Celibate ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Reblog account @pedrotease
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