Joel Sits On You Peach + Apple Pie

Moody Rainy Day

Good Lord, did you see the new TLOU trailer? Pedge and I are already wrecked. This has been one of the most personally difficult weeks of my life, but one artistic outlet sustaining me is the Tumblr community! I had an awesome time creating this mood board for the beauty @beefrobeefcal, and they encouraged me to share with everyone! It's going to be 106° tomorrow, but I've definitely got Fall on the brain. Anyone who wants to use as inspiration please feel free and tag away! As per last week's poll results, I'm going to continue Monday Mood Boards starting with Pedro characters like Javier Pena...Pedge approves.

Lakers Shirt

Oh man, I love it when our boy is in L.A, but something tells me he's gonna be traveling A LOT for the next few years. Loved seeing all the looks at Cannes, whether chic or casual. I just hope he remembered all the travel essentials....including me....

Gawwwwwd....get you a man who can do both. Pretty sure I can fit in that bag if I try....

*thanks @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! *Insta for the add-ons

@littlemisspascal  @lizette50 @beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva @wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya  @schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @galaxyedging @joelalorian @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave  @copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @yorksgirl @quicax3 @shaunasflannel @shinyanchorobject

The Big Goodbye (NY, NY Series Finale)

This series was so healing for me. My writing is obviously self-indulgent, so please proceed at your own risk. I'm sad to bid these two farewell, BUT anytime I'm missing NY or need more Pedge in my life, I'm just gonna pop in for a short.

Triggers: RPF, profanity, Narcos audition, alcohol, friends with benefits, goodbyes, artistic rejection, smut...I wanted to explore intimacy and the ways we love on one another that are non-traditional (hope you enjoy as I did!)

Series Masterlist

The words were ringing in the air along with the heavy patter of hypnotic raindrops.

“It’s a no. I didn’t get it”.

Your mouth parted slightly in surprise. Juxtaposed by the surrealistic events of the day the echo of reality seemingly throbbed in your being, watching P’s chest rise and fall with a heavy melancholy.

He swallowed harshly, turning his back to you again and pocketing the cell phone. You suddenly felt the dripping weight of the rain, clinging to your clothes, squeaking in your shoes. The once fragrant heat of the greenhouse now mildewed in soiled oppression, anger starting to leak out of you. Motherfucking "Narcos". They can’t even see what is glaringly obvious in front of them. But you could. Pedge placed his hands on his hips, a ripple of anxiety cascading across his back and neck. You could almost feel the rising lump in his throat from where you stood. Trying to shrug off the familiar feeling of rejection. So many auditions. So much indecision. So much insecurity. This industry could be a fucking nightmare, but to have so many “maybes”. So many “almosts”. You could only go to brunch and coffees and wine tastings so many times before it caught up with you. How do people expect us to have a thick enough skin, surviving the many rejections, but also remaining transparently vulnerable enough to process the emotions of artistry and humanity? There’s always a breaking point, and you were looking at one small example of it, standing in front of you.

Your eyebrows creased in concern. Sigh. Now, what was your motivation? Some intimacy coach you were. Nurturing? Comic relief? Logic? Lots of ways to handle fragility, but what offers the best support? You bit your lower lip, still tasting the cinnamon flavors of his chapstick. All of your senses were heightened as you reached out for his shoulder tentatively.

“Pedge….”.

“S’okay” he muttered perfunctorily, swinging around a bit too quickly and plastering a mostly believable grin across his face. “It was a long shot anyways” he tilted his head with joviality, coaxing a wry smile. “Win some, you lose some” he voice cracked a little at the end as he shifted with discomfort, looking down at his shoes. “See! Even Mother Nature is pissed on my behalf!” he shouted, arms outstretched, trying to lighten the moment.

You chuckled, mostly for his benefit, feeling the sting of your own insecurities and rejections coming to the surface. “Idiots!” you yelled to the greenhouse ceiling, attempting to diffuse the newfound tension. 

“Cabrones!” he exclaimed, gesturing to heaven as a loud clap resounded authoritatively. He grinned back at you in supplication, shrinking down a bit, deferentially. “Come on, let’s get out of here…”. You took each others waist on the exit, ducking from the all-encompassing rain, running in short bursts all the way back to the subway entrance.

Teetering precariously on the humming subway, you held Pedge’s hand tightly in your own. You’d learned a lot from the Big Apple, as you braced your legs in a wide stance, hugging the subway pole territorially and glancing up at this countenance surreptitiously. There was no doubt in your mind Pedge was a great actor, but there were some things that didn’t need to be fabricated. You could feel the self doubt rolling in waves off of his shoulders, as he bit his lip with a worried repetition. Pulsing your hand in his, his eyes immediately shot up to yours with curiosity. “My place?” he squeaked, attempting to pull himself back into the real world.

“Mine” you intoned lightly, bringing his encased hand around your back supportively. He nodded quickly, slipping back into his tumultuous state of mind. You weren’t sure what Pedge needed in this moment, but whatever it was, you were determined to give it to him. He had given you so much during your time in New York, and this moment was about him. Your stomach flipped with anticipation, as you realized you were mostly packed for tomorrow’s exit. You didn’t know how to reconcile the many emotions coursing through your veins, as the city whirred past you in a blurry din of lights and streaking raindrops. Excitement, confusion, dread, concern, curiosity…it was a tumult of electricity moving through you much like the city itself. P sniffled forlornly, hugging your hip and offering you a tight smile. 

“Thanks” he offered matter of factly, unsure of how else to communicate the complexity of the moment. You turned your body towards his, caging him in and touching his face lightly. 

“Hey,” he locked eyes with you as you whispered “it’s going to be okay”. A flicker of pain flashed across his face for a millisecond before it quickly armored up in the buzzing atmosphere. Your voice caught in your throat, knowing EXACTLY how P felt in this uncertain situation, poised before an unknown adventure on the horizon.

The subway started to grind to a metallic stop as you teased Pedge with his earlier retort. “Gotta expect the unexpected”. He smiled with fatigue, his shoulders heavy with gravitas, as you approached your stop. Leading him wordlessly by the hand you exited the  subway and quietly made your way down the street. Gazing at the flickering lamplights, uproarious laughter and honking taxi cabs you wished you could forever house him in a cocoon of safety, but soon enough. Hitting the doorstep to your Airbnb, you double checked once more, “Come up for a night cap?”

Pedge nodded quietly, eyes gazing downward. You pursed your lips pensively, cupping his face in your hand and bringing his eyes up to meet your face. “I have wine” you offered forlornly, rubbing your thumb in a small circle across his cheek. 

“Perfect for whining” he almost whimpered, losing steam by the second.

Hand firmly clasped and trudging up the stairs you led him into the apartment, dropping your purse and rain soaked shoes at the door. You set about pouring two glasses of Pinot Noir and returned to the door finding Pedge unmoving, where you’d left him. He was shivering slightly with his arms folded tightly over his chest, looking downward. Somehow his broad shoulders and chest had collapsed further down, and he looked so small. Almost like a little boy, fretting about stolen candy.

“Drink up” you offered, placing the wine glass in his hand and toasting it with a clinking sound. He grinned with an air of melancholy, downing the glass in one fell swoop and breathing heavily. “I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but I’m toasting you. I’m toasting us…”. He rolled his eyes with self-annoyance, tightening his lips in a fine line to prevent himself from speaking. “You were fucking GREAT in that scene” you congratulated him, as he took a shuddering breath, playing with the slightly frayed edges of his now drying dress shirt. “I’m serious” you stepped directly under his chin, nosing the bristling patches of his beard and coaxing his eyes towards yours. “I’m a touring Broadway performer…and I KNOW talent when I see it” you chided self-deprecatingly as he smiled slyly, still not meeting your eyes completely. “It’s not everyone who gets to die on Game of Thrones” you teased, kicking his booted foot with your bare one.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the status quo” his voice cracked in defeat, trying to drain the dregs of his mostly empty wine glass and pouting slightly. “Seconds?” he quipped, handing the glass back to you. 

“Definitely” you encouraged, downing your glass quickly as well. You gazed over at the pumping radiator hissing angrily in the corner as Pedge removed his shoes and headed over to the couch, plopping down unceremoniously. Pouring two more glasses of wine you came to join him, setting the glasses down on the nearby coffee table. 

“You’re all wet” you reprimanded, running a tender hand through his hair and drawing it down his neck. 

Pedge smiled mischievously to himself, “What, are we doing our scene again?” he teased, tilting his head sideways on his elbow.

“We get better every time we practice” you drew your finger across his brow which had become furrowed in bitter recollection. 

“What I’m missing in my apartment is a woman” he sighed, placing his palm over your thigh and sliding his fingers ever so slightly under the rain soaked fabric.

“What are you doing this weekend?” you asked, your breath hitching cautiously in your chest and drawing your finger down the front of his dress shirt, popping one or two buttons, loosely.

Moving his thumb to the soft skin on the inside of your thigh delicately he jested, “Stuck in a depressive episode because my friend is abandoning me for career opportunities that I lack”. 

You paused, reprimanding his harsh evaluation with a stern look.

“Too soon? It’s too soon for joking…” he sighed, sinking into the couch and laying back to gaze at the ceiling.

“Ven aqui” you whispered, tentatively sliding across the couch and straddling his quads as he held you around the waist. “Dame un beso” you leaned closer, collapsing your weight to his body and nibbling at his neck. You felt him relax beneath you as you drew the fleshy part of your lower lip up his chiseled jaw, nestling in the patchy scratches of his beard. Feeling his fingers drifting lower over your backside you kept your eyes closed, and then connected with his lips passionately, breathing one another in and out. All thought left your mind completely, poised at the task of comforting him however you could. You were mindlessly circling your hips over his dress pants as he slid the shoulders of your sundress down to your waist.

Pressing your breasts up against his chest, you moved together in synchronicity, allowing the vibrating warmth of the wine to pulse inside you. After a few minutes, you pulled back to look at his sorrowful eyes, placing your hands lightly atop his stomach.

“What does it mean?” he whispered, looking into your eyes imploringly. You weren’t sure if he was referencing your connection, or the audition, or even life itself. Naturally drawn to the existential questions, you smiled, moved by his artistry and confusion. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything” you repeated his words back to him from earlier. “It’s just a moment. And we can decide whatever we want”. His face crumpled slightly in recognition as you took his face in your hands sweetly. “What do you need?” you asked straightforwardly, trying to hone your skills of telepathy as he drew his arms lightly up and down your back.

“I don’t even know” he muttered, looking around the room for inspiration. “I’m all over the place” he dropped his hands to the side, laying back against the couch with resignation and pausing to consider his feelings.

You waited quietly, atop his lap, resting your hands against his chest, hearing the deafening tic-tock of the battery operated clock in the corner.

His face contorted quietly in a small whimper. “I really thought I had it” he cried softly, covering his face quickly with his hands in embarrassment.

You welled up, watching him doubt the artistry and talent he clearly possessed, and knowing all too well that sometimes that just wasn’t enough. “Hey” you gently took his hands away from his face as he turned his head to the side with chagrin. “YOU are enough” you laced your fingers through his own, bringing them up to your chest with abandon. He chuckled, feeling the edges of your exposed bra against his fingers, eyeing you from the side.

“You think so?” he teased dolefully, fingering at the delicate skin of your breasts and humming shyly.

“I DO think so!” you brought his chin back to center with a deft finger as he eyed your chest sacredly, slowly bringing his gaze up to yours. He shivered slightly, gulping back the tears, determined to offer a more resolute countenance. “There are just some moments in life you have to be…patient” you reasoned, realizing that your time was whittling down from hour to hour. “Timing is everything and sometimes…it’s not yet time” you looked at him appraisingly, realizing that perhaps he needed a different kind of release than the obvious one.

“Come on” you carefully slid off of his lap watching his melancholy gaze follow after you along with his outstretched hands. “We’re taking a shower, and then we’re going to bed” you stated matter-a-factly.

“We are?” his curiosity peaked as he stifled a small yawn of emotional fatigue.

“Yeah, mister, some of us have to get up early for our grand exit, and I’m not leaving you with a New York City sized cold” you rationalized, leaving the wine glasses on the table. “What you need is a hot shower and a cuddle” nodding your head firmly as Pedge shakily arose, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt en route. “You’ve bossed me around enough, now it’s my turn…”

“I haven’t been bossy!” Pedge called after you, unzipping his pants and hopping down the hallway awkwardly.

“You most certainly have!” your voice echoed from the bathroom as the shower roared to life, attempting to distract P from the tumultuous day’s events. You smiled to yourself, stripping off the clingy sundress and shimmying your underwear to the floor in a tangled bundle.

You wiggled your fingers through the lukewarm water, anticipating the vanilla scented body wash you’d discovered at the Airbnb. Pedge’s voice crescendoed as he rounded the corner in his boxer briefs, “Okayeeee California…” he stopped abruptly seeing your half naked figure in the bathroom. You turned your body towards him mischievously as you drank one another in. Pedge covered his crotch with one hand, blushing slightly, and then hiding back behind the doorframe. “Are we doing this?” he smirked, peaking out from the hallway.

“I’m taking a shower” you teased, unhooking your bra in one motion and dropping it to the floor along with Pedge’s jaw. “And I’m hoping you’re going to join me, Prince Dorne or whatever the hell your name is…” you clutched your hands around your chest stepping into the shower and immediately enjoying the hot streams of water pelting your skin.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, boss” he stepped out of his underwear, kicking it to the corner with yours and hopping in behind you, pulling the curtain shut. You laughed wryly, taking a quick glance at his nether regions with admiration.

“Okay, Prince…” your eyebrows shot up to the ceiling with curiosity. “Do we get to see you in all this splendor on the big screen, or is this a private showing?” you poked him in the belly button, watching his length pinken and swell slightly. He blushed again as the shower heated up in more ways than one.

“I’m not hearing any complaints” he rasped, drawing his body to yours and pulling your hair taut behind you. You shivered slightly with the changing temperature and feather light touch of his fingertips at your back.

“I’m proud of you” you nuzzled into his neck, trying to breathe around the billowing clouds of steam wafting over your bodies. He pulled his face back slightly, holding you around the waist loosely and looking into your eyes with intention.

“Thank you” he nodded, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Thanks for being here with me” he kissed you lightly on the lips for a long moment. You sighed contentedly, reaching haphazardly for the loofah sponge.

“Alright, any areas off-limits? How do we feel about vanilla?” you smiled, lathering your hands.

“Sky’s the limit” he laughed, slowly allowing his previous worries to wash away with the bubbling soap suds.

You drew the sponge across his chest moving in slow circles drifting lower and lower until you hit the tuft of hair at the base of his torso. Pedge hissed in quickly, twitching at your light touch. “This okay?” you intoned, watching his face for micro expressions. His eyes glazed over slightly, melting into your hand. “Yeeaaaa” he drawled, stepping an inch closer to your body magnetically. “My turn?”

You handed the sponge off to him, rotating in place, feeling the warm suds cascading down your back seductively. 

“Ticklish?” he teased landing a quick swath downward and cupping your backside, eliciting a myriad of giggles.

“Maybe?” you crumpled slightly, turning back to face him. He pecked at your lips tentatively as you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his length bump up in between your legs tantalizingly. You hummed into his mouth peacefully as you both swayed carefully in the sudsy, warm atmosphere. Enjoying one another until your fingertips were starting to prune, you broke away from the lengthy kiss to massage his shoulders comfortingly. “Any better?” you questioned watching his tranquil expression.

“I’ll be okay” he nodded, assembling his thoughts once again and sighing with relief. “Like somebody wise told me; not all who wander are lost” he acquiesced.

Toweling one another off to small kisses and quick tickles you ruffled his hair affectionately. “I think I’m ready for tomorrow. Any big advice before I head into the next adventure?” you asked, wrapping the towel around your body modestly and looking at Pedge in the steam coated mirror. He reached over your shoulder, swiping a clear path along the reflective surface and gazing back at your questioning expression. 

“Why? Do you want my acting advice?” he jested, before you elbowed him in the stomach jokingly. 

“Ouch” he rubbed his tummy slyly, pondering for a moment. “Just be good to yourself and be good to others” he rested his chin drolly on your shoulder looking at you in the mirror.

“Be good to yourself” you repeated to his reflection as he fluttered his eyelids comedically. “And be good to others” you turned to hug him affectionately, pressing your body against his. You stood that way for what felt like an eternity before Pedge chided,

“Is your towel gonna fall down if we stop hugging?” he laughed, before you pulled back tauntingly. 

“Wanna find out?” you teased, grasping your towel around the edge and scooting past Pedge before he swatted you on the ass.

You eyed your packed suitcase in the corner of the bedroom sadly before dropping the towel to the floor and throwing on a cozy pink sweater over your softened frame. Pedge appeared in the doorway, holding his towel at the waist. “Got one of those for me?” he quipped, looking around the room appraisingly. You grabbed one of your tourist purchases you had bought with Pedge in Time Square holding it up in front of his body with delight. 

“I heart New York” Pedge read, grabbing at the t-shirt and pulling it over his frame smoothly. “Works for me” he yawned, hitting the light switch as you both crawled into bed with exhaustion. There was lots of laughing and shifting as the bed creaked noisily over the hard wood floor. “Geez, is this futon gonna collapse under us both?” Pedge teased, finally pulling you in to his body and resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Let’s hope not, I don’t wanna pay an extra Airbnb fee” you yawned, settling into the mattress and covering his arms with your own. “Thanks again for all of your help, Pedge, I couldn’t have done this without you” your words started to mumble slightly as you felt your body relax into his hold.

“I’m really excited for you and your tour” he breathed into your neck, kissing it slightly at the base. “I’m sorry I ruined everything with a lousy audition. I didn’t want today to be about me…”.

You turned in his embrace, desperately trying to locate the chocolate depths of his eyes in the darkened room. “You didn’t ruin a thing, Pedge” you began. “As artists, we get to experience all of this together, wherever we find ourselves. Our victories. Our defeats. It’s one big tapestry, and it’s nice to find ourselves knitted together.” Even in the dark, you could feel the intensity of his gaze pouring into you. “Was tonight okay? I mean…do you need more?” you stuttered, eager to show your support in whatever way you could. The silence stretched out before you as your heart fluttered nervously in your chest. Perhaps you had said too much…Had the intimacy of the day somehow threatened your easy friendship? You heard a single tear patter to the pillowcase as Pedge caught you in an unexpected and passionate kiss. You held each other, attempting to hold time further still.

“Today was everything I needed, and more” Pedge whispered. “Thank you for being my friend. I’m proud of you” he smiled, and your heart exploded in your chest with joy. 

“I’m proud of you, P” you whispered back, slowly starting to drift into a happy haze, feeling the hairs of his beard bristling at your neck and his arms wrapped firmly around your waist in comfort. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow, just rest” his voice echoed in the recesses of your mind before you fell asleep.

The morning was filled with anticipation as Pedge returned to the apartment with coffee and bagels before your departure. Although the air was tinged with sadness it was also humming with the electricity of a new adventure, as you looked over at your small suitcases dotting the stoop and winter coat draped over the luggage.

Pedge’s easy smile had returned, despite the previous day’s apparent defeat and you marveled once again at the resiliency artists such as yourselves had to demonstrate day after day.

“You gonna watch me on tv next month?” Pedge asked sipping at his iced quad espresso jovially, having already inhaled his breakfast.

“What do you think Mr. Six Shots?” you laughed, nibbling cautiously at the everything bagel, too adrenaline fueled to consider your own latte.

“I did okay” he deflected, considering recent events. “Netflix-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named might be a dud, but somethings gotta be on the horizon…” he reasoned. “I think my agent mentioned something about Gotham coming up…”.

“I’m not gonna have to watch you die in that too, am I?” you jested, tossing your napkin deftly at his face. 

“Fine by me” he grumbled. “Currently I can’t get arrested, and I’m more than happy to die as many times as is necessary…”. 

You pouted placatingly. “See me off later?”

“You bet” he smiled. “I’ve got a meeting with my agent, but it might get pushed. They can’t drop me after GOT, right?” he pondered, inhaling the rest of his espresso nervously.

“They’d be INSANE if they did!” you argued, grasping his wrist. “I’m fairly certain any nervousness you’re feeling is fully caffeinated at this point…”. He smiled mischievously, wrapping his hand over yours. “I’m overthinking everything” he confessed. “Let’s head to the studio and get you on the road, chickadee” he teased, kissing you on the cheek and heading towards the door. “Adventures await!” he flung open the door to your Airbnb, attempting to grab ALL of your luggage in a bear hug, amidst your protestations and giggles. Goodbye New York City, and hello newfound adventure. It felt amazing to be taking Pedge’s encouragement right along with you.

The morning passed by in a blur. The company had assembled at Ripley Grier as P headed upstairs to the Equity offices for his meeting. You had already said your official goodbyes, but as the note session wrapped up, your heart plummeted slightly realizing this was it. The company was packing up, and Pedge was nowhere to be found. Better to rip the bandaid off, you reasoned, rolling your baggage into the elevator and heading downstairs to the awaiting tour bus. The atmosphere was tinged with anticipation, laughter and ambition as you all piled into the bus, heading to your out of town technical rehearsal in upstate New York. You marveled at the miracle your life had evolved into, and resolved to make every moment count in all the artistic relationships you had made and were going to enjoy for a lifetime. You just wished you could somehow wrap it all up in your little pink suitcase to take with you. Settling into your seat you nervously glanced at your phone.

Pedge must still be in his meeting, you thought, wondering why everything was taking so long. Would an agency really drop a star performer, just because they hadn’t landed the most recent audition? It was ludicrous to even consider, but you shook your head in disapproval. The artistic life wasn’t a predictable one, but P’s talent would sustain him in whatever situation he found himself. You were confident it was just a matter of time. Broadway, television, movies…Pedge could make it happen, and you would be able to watch him do it.

You waited expectantly, the seconds ticking by disappointingly. Damn. The production manager hopped on the bus mic, updating the company as you rolled out. You pressed your fingertips to the glass reticently. Bye, Pedge. Your lip wobbled with emotion as you heaved a heavy sigh of longing. Can’t be in two places at once, chica…Pedge’s voice seemed to tint your own imagination as you watched the cogs of the city slowly mechanizing forward. Swaths of bright yellow sunshine-colored cabs, elbowing one another for dominance. An array of humanity dotting the busy streets as the cumbersome bus angled awkwardly between cyclists, pedestrians and automobiles. Your phone buzzed loudly in your hand.

You pouted with discouragement, watching Ripley Grier fade into the background.

Sighing heavily you rested your head against the bus window. Geez, EVERYTHING was taking forever. NY wasn’t designed for bumbling busses. You inched forward at a glacial pace. At this rate, tech wasn’t gonna start until next week.

You parried, hoping to get a response, to no avail. Well this was anticlimactic. So much for the grand exit. You waited another five minutes, settling in for the lengthy drive. This was just the beginning of the adventure, so let’s all hurry up and wait, you surmised. New York City streets were a cornucopia of mankind. You smiled watching a woman in a mink, dragging a tea cup poodle behind her. A gaggle of school kids, obviously playing hooky on a Monday. Artistic graffiti. Piles of trash on the side of the road. What a town, you observed.

Your eyes shot up to your forehead in confusion. Huh?

I AM looking out my window, you chided, wondering if you were EVER going to exit the Big Apple. Hard to start the next adventure if you never finished the first one. You squinted begrudgingly at the sea of humanity before you. Pretzel cart. Check. The bus puttered a few more feet forward. Fire escape argument decorated with a laundry line backdrop. Check. Geez, New York was its own movie set. Pashminas, snow globes, tourist caricatures…What were you supposed to be looking for?

A bouncing balloon caught your eye as a beaming Pedge bounced playfully beside it. “Sorry For Your Loss” it read contradictorily, in opposition to the contagious light cascading out of P’s eyes. You goofball, you smiled, popping up in your seat and nearly banging your head on the luggage rack.

“Sit the f@ck down!” the driver congenially reprimanded, attempting to bulldoze over a school bus to the right. Pedge darted in and out of traffic, arriving at the molasses paced flow of traffic and banging on the side of the bus. “Get the f@ck outta the road!” the bus driver yelled, braking before he hit the taxicab in front of him. 

Pedge yelled back, “Hey, I’m WALKIN’ HERE!” unfazed by the onslaught of cars and apathetic onlookers. He skipped sideways, pointing to his phone as the balloon bobbed next to his head. Gazing down at your hand you immediately recognized his number and answered.

“You idiot, get out of the road before you’re flattened like a pancake. We don’t need another Dorne situation!” you laughed, stumbling to the front of the bus.

“I got it” he smiled, his voice a tinny, delayed echo on the phone in relation to his enthusiastic and Cheshire like grin.

You lumbered to the driver’s right, stopping abruptly at the front of the bus.

“What? I can’t hear you, Pedge!” you plugged one ear as the driver berated you for getting out of your seat.

“I got it. Narcos. I got it.” he wriggled around the front of the bus carefully, arriving at the bus entrance.

You froze in delight, watching his boyish expression through the somewhat dirtied glass.

“WHAT???” you shrieked, now eliciting curious giggles and questions from the company as the production manager attempted to regain control of the situation.

You watched his mouth as he pointed animatedly into the phone. “I’M. JAVIER. PENA! I got it!” he banged on the door again loudly as the bus inched forward another foot. You shymied down the stairwell, yelling back at the driver, “Open the door! Open the door!”

“Geeeeezus, actors!” the driver drawled, a thick New York accent spilling forward. “You’re way past the line, lady!”

One of your company friends shouted from the back, “Goddam open the door already! Open, open, open!” the bus started chanting with encouragement as traffic seemed to close up in support of your reunion.

You grabbed your stomach theatrically, “Man, I really gotta puke, you better open this door, if you don’t want a situation..” you bluffed, watching Pedge bang on the door repetitively.

“Bitchy actors” the driver finally acquiesced, punching a button as the door jettisoned opened towards you. Without hesitation you flung yourself into P’s arms as the bus erupted into applause.

“Well that was cinematic” Pedge exclaimed into your ear, sending an electric tickle down your spine. He pulled back to face you, beaming broadly from ear to ear. “Can I hang up on you now?” he joked, holding you around the waist and booping you on the nose.

“I don’t see any puking!” the driver stated matter-a-factly inching the bus another few feet forward.

Pedge carried you sideways as the company pressed their noses up against the windows in rapt anticipation. “You got it?” you questioned, pulled in by the magnetism of his joy and wonder.

“I got it” he repeated, nodding his head in affirmation. “They didn’t know if GOT was going to be a scheduling conflict, and then something fell through..and…I got it!”. You were completely speechless, feet dangling off the ground and heart dangling in your chest with effervescence.

“Puking!” the driver abruptly interrupted, moving the bus a solid ten feet forward as traffic eased up slightly.

Pedge hopped sideways to keep up with the shifting traffic as you gripped him tightly around the neck. “We’re going to start shooting in Columbia in the next few weeks, I’ve gotta lease my apartment, my agents have already set up a meet with the FBI, it’s all f@cking happening, J!” you both laughed maniacally as the information spilled out of him joyfully. “It’s happening!”

“I knew it!” you exclaimed as he set you down, gripping your hands in front of you. You both started jumping up and down like little kids, as the balloon bobbed in acknowledgement along side you both. “I’m so proud of you Pedge!” you grinned.

“I’m kind of proud of me too” he agreed. “Looks like you could be a GREAT intimacy coach if this whole acting thing doesn’t work out” he joked, stepping forward into your personal space and hooking his fingers through your belt loops.

“Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her!” the company started chanting repetitively as the sounds of the city began to fade around you. Even the bus driver’s reprimands dulled in comparison to the light shining in Pedge’s eyes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, magnetically pulled into a passionate kiss. The world slowed…much like the current traffic…while you enjoyed your Big Goodbye, New York style. After what seemed like an eternity, the sounds of the city came rushing back in a torrent of sound and fury, as the company uttered a communal, juvenile “Awwwwww”.

“Give ‘em what they want” Pedge teased, brushing that pesky hair out of your face, and tucking it behind your ear.

“Looks like they want YOU” you returned, clasping his face in your palm, and circling the small heart shaped patch in his beard affectionately.

“Lady, either you’re in or out!” the driver finally smiled, juxtaposed by the production manager who looked like they were ACTUALLY going to be sick.

You turned back towards Pedge and quickly exclaimed, “I love you!” gasping slightly at your bizarre, somewhat ill-timed confession.

Somehow P’s smile broadened even more as he leaned in for a final peck on your lips. He set you back on the stair-stoop of the bus, comedically yelling at the taxicab that was precariously perched behind him, and slapping the hood of it theatrically. The doors whooshed closed as traffic finally eased up, allowing the bus to slowly advance. Pedge’s silhouette began to shrink as the bus continued its formative journey, and the company returned to their seats amidst the exhortations of the production manager. You gripped the handrails as Pedge waved dramatically, the small balloon escaping his grasp and dotting the horizon… “Sorry For Your Loss”. He jumped after it helplessly, finally shrugging his shoulders and waving extravagantly, seeing you off for a New York Goodbye that was truly cinema worthy.

Sorry For Your Loss, you whispered to yourself, plopping back down in your seat and smiling warmly. Every loss was a newfound gain. Every ending, a new beginning. And realizing that some journeys had only just begun. Not all who wander are lost, you reminded yourself, gazing down at your buzzing phone that was still in your hand.

You sat back contentedly in your seat watching New York City blur around you. I’m ready, you mused. I’m ready.

Pike's Place Elf

Yay! Here's Episode Three of @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope Challenge! I'm really digging this slow burn series, final episode on Christmas Day :) A big thank you to @inept-the-magnificent for cool rec's and assists!

Triggers: lite smut, profanity, discussions of isolation/pandemic, that d@mn snow suit (costume malfunctions), stranded motorist, honestly at this point in the story we might just die of sugar overload, literal and metaphoric please proceed at your own risk...

Series Masterlist:

The fire was crackling brightly, flickering across Pike’s face as he gazed longingly into your eyes. Your body was perched atop his on the couch, two glasses of wine sitting in front of the television screen playing an endless loop of “It’s a Wonderful Life”. Snow was lightly falling across the pristine white landscape, as the both of your were housed in a cocoon of winter wonders. You sighed heavily into his chest, body thrumming with anticipation.

“I can’t believe this is happening” he whispered lowly, grazing his lips across the soft flesh of your neck, noticing the breath hitch in your throat haltingly. “Is this okay?” he pulled back with concern, his large hands rubbing your shoulders in one fluid motion and watching you intently.

“More than okay” you smiled, leaning in and hovering just above his lips teasingly. “This has been a Christmas I’ll never forget” you breathed into his ear, watching the goose bumps splay across his cinnamon skin. You felt the corners of his mouth turn up against your cheek, beard tickling at your grin as you pulled back to see his expression.

“I think showing up on my doorstep in the middle of a blizzard, wearing…THAT…was particularly memorable” he joked, eliciting small tickles from you as he crumpled in a protective vice, smashing your body against his in a useless defense.

“You were the one in your slutty, gray sweatpants crying into your Merlot!” you taunted mercilessly, reaching your hands around to his sides and pinching his ribs.

“Ouch!” Pike laughed, pausing dramatically until he had your full attention. “I was NOT crying into my Merlot…”. Your tickling hands halted for a millisecond, unsure if you had inadvertently hurt his feelings, or crossed a line. “It was a Pinot Noir.” Pike could give as good as he could take, and launched a full fledged tickle assault as you writhed atop his body with delight. You were squealing like a small child, squeaking and huffing as Pike tenderly wrestled you into submission. His movements started to slow, until his hands were gripping your back, and moving in small circles, lower and lower and lower. Your pupils dilated to to lustful circles, feeling magnetically drawn to his pouty lips, closer and closer and closer until….

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

You inhaled quickly, taking an adrenaline fueled moment to look around the room in assessment. The cozy dream you had been enjoying started to recede into the hazy background. It was juxtaposed against the pounding of your heart keeping time with the knocks at the door.

“I don’t want to scare you, but I think there’s a good chance a mystery woman in a pink snow suit may have burgled my winter cabin last night?” the muted tones of Pike drifted through the cabin door as you eyed said snow suit across the room. Grabbing at the sheets, you pulled them up to your chin, remembering you were only wearing a t-shirt you had found in his cabinet that was sinfully soft and smelling of a woodsy pine. The events of the previous evening came flooding back to you, drumming in your chest. There weren’t a lot of options after Bessie the Hyundai had come to an unceremonious halt in this unexpected blizzard. Trudging the distance to a nearby cabin you had come upon Agent Marcus Pike, unlikely tipsy hero, who had offered you lodging in this unexpected conundrum. Truthfully, he had primarily offered you hot chocolate, as you listened to his melancholy tale of heart break and isolation. It hadn’t taken much to draw you in to the warmth of his personality and plight, particularly as it seemed aided by one too many glasses of red. Falling asleep on the couch you had tucked him in for the night and headed upstairs to survive the snow storm. The fuzzy remnants of your dream flashed into your memory as a smirk dotted your face. Guess it was obvious which direction your subconscious was headed, as it dragged your conscious mind right along with it. But would Agent Pike seem nearly as adorable in the harsh light of day? 

“I must remind you in this moment that I AM a man of the law, and trespassers will be treated with the utmost stringency and repudiation”. Silence followed as you gulped dryly. Oh my. Maybe he didn’t remember the events of last night and had already called the police. A quick image of you in a pink snowsuit and handcuffs flashed comedically across your mind scape.

“I’m not trespassing!” you called out, trying to diffuse the situation. The door gently swung open on a light squeak as Pike stood before you in a pressed white dress shirt and slacks carrying…a tray of pancakes?

Your mouth dropped open slightly taking in the angelic sight before you. You almost had to laugh at the comical rom-com persona grimacing before you, silhouetted by the morning sun. Pike couldn’t have appeared MORE cinematic, as you took in the bowl of pinecones, restaurant perfect pancakes, glass of orange juice and mug that read… “I’m only a morning person on Christmas Day”.

“I don’t usually make pancakes for burglars, but in this case, I thought I’d make an exception?” he joked, taking a quick glance at your disheveled morning hair and freckled confusion. Oh you were even cuter than he remembered from last night. Truthfully, he didn’t remember much. There was pink, there was a crowbar, there was…lingerie? That part seemed more like a fever dream. But glancing out the window of his snow-covered cabin he could clearly see a small car dotting the landscape, and the aforementioned crowbar sat atop the living room table, so there was evidence enough of his Merlot fueled fantasy. Somehow Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed and the whole experience was a bit muddled in his mind, but he was fairly certain a roadster had requested lodging for the night and…he furrowed his brow in concentration. There was a lot of pink. Sexy pink? He cleared his throat with discomfort. One more example of romanticizing EVERY moment indiscriminately. But standing before you, gazing at your questioning expression he felt slightly justified in his usually theatrically perceptions. His memory was functioning just fine. You WERE adorable. And he had pancakes.

“I…uh…don’t remember ALL the details from last night, but I noticed your car out front, and thought you might have found yourself slightly stranded…” he trailed off, eyes widening at the sparkly pink bra draped across an even louder pink snowsuit. Ah, that was…something. The tray shook in his hand ever so slightly as a red tint crossed his cheeks, blazingly hot. “Oh, we didn’t…um…I mean…” he stuttered with concern, noticing the t-shirt you were wearing from his closet.

“Absolutely not!” you blurted out, nearly standing up, but remembering you were only wearing his t-shirt underneath the bedsheets. “Agent Pike…I mean Mr. Marcus…M-Marcus!” you took a deep breath, attempting to still your heart throbbing loudly in your ears. “I don’t make it a point to take advantage of…members of the Art Squad..” you winced awkwardly attempting to form a cohesive thought “…who have taken ME in for the night” you punctuated your sentence definitively trying to regain some measure of composure, and spotting his sigh of relief with slight disappointment.

The floorboards creaked beneath him as he shifted his weight with indecision.

“What kind of pancakes are those” you managed to eek out, happy to fill the void.

“Chocolate chip! I don’t have much in the way of sugar so your coffee might taste like maple syrup, I don’t know how you like it.”

I’m more than happy to tell you how I like it, Agent Pike, you clandestinely thought, overjoyed to finally keep your inner monologue silent for once.

“Can I…?” Pike paused precariously at the doorstep, indicating the foot of the bed.

“Please” you rasped. Somehow this appeared a bit begging on your part so you cleared your throat for a second attempt. “Yes, please enter”. Good Lord, it’s getting worse. Why do I ever use words, you wondered as Pike jauntily walked in, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed, and grazing your ankle ever so slightly with his pinky. You jerked away nervously, suddenly aware of his close proximity. Pike’s eyes shot up to yours with intensity.

“I’m sorry you were having car trouble last night” he took a step back, clasping his hands behind him modestly. “I did call the local mechanic and Triple A in the interim, but everything seems to be inaccessible at the moment.”

You nodded your head appraisingly, unfortunately unsurprised. This California Girl didn’t know much about blizzards, but business was hard enough during the holidays, let alone on a Sunday. You took another detailed look at Agent Marcus Pike who was casting quite the coifed, clean shaven aesthetic this morning in a button down white shirt and even wearing his lanyard, adding to his official presence.

“I didn’t realize the Art Squad was so proficient in the culinary arts” you teased, eyeing him up and down.

He smirked shyly, drawing his hand behind his neck and rubbing slightly. “I didn’t realize burglars were so pretty” he bit his lip painfully, already annoyed at himself. Too much. 

Your cheeks reddened as you pulled the sheets up even higher than they already were. “Well, it’s important when you’re having car trouble to try to look as fabulous as you can” you chuckled self-deprecatingly, feeling a bit out of sorts. “And what about you Agent Pike, are you…headed to work?” you questioned, wondering at his apparel.

“Oh, this old thing? I only wear it when I don’t care how I look!” he chuckled, backing out of the room slowly. “And you can call me Mr. Marcus, I mean M-Marcus, if you want…” he tripped slightly over the frame, grabbing the doorknob to steady himself. “I’ll just be downstairs tidying up, no rush” he ducked his head out quickly before he said anything else.

You laughed quietly to yourself, breathing a sigh of relief. Looks like you weren’t the only one out of sorts. You gazed down at the steaming cup of coffee and plated pancakes and smiled. What holiday Hallmark movie had you stepped into?

Pike plodded down the stairs shaking his head from side to side. Nice one, Pike, real smooth, he chastised himself, heading back into the kitchen. Why didn’t you just ask her ring size while you were there? He had to chuckle to himself, trying to elicit a bit of grace, noticing “Elf” playing on the television screen. That’s not an old movie, he muttered under his breath, but smiling with recognition. If anybody understood Buddy the Elf it was him. Endlessly optimistic, overly enthusiastic and a hopeless romantic. He took a moment to appreciate the roaring fire in the hearth, and pulled back the curtains to see your small forlorn Hyundai, punctuating the snowscape. Still on East Coast time, he had awakened bright and early, using all of his investigative skills to piece together the previous evening. It was unlike him to have spent so much time moping in the preceding week, and your unexpected arrival had jarred him into a state of productivity. Re-starting his indoor exercise regiment, he decided to make a better “first impression”, jumping in the shower and presenting a clean-shaven business appearance. He didn’t want you to think he was a lush, wiling away the holiday hours and fretting into his Merlot. It’s true the last couple months had been an emotional roller coaster, but there was no better time than the present to turn over a new leaf. Pike looked around the tidied cabin appraisingly. He had already called Triple A, and the local mechanic, to no avail. He’d already been up for four hours and was attempting to quell the nervous restlessness bouncing around inside his chest. Still smarting from his recent romantic escapades, he was well aware that enthusiasm was his downfall. He just couldn’t help himself, and the holidays seemed to intensify his longing. Perhaps he could just enjoy the possibility of a new friendship, and help you on your way to wherever you were going. He gazed over at Buddy who had just finished decorating all of Macy’s in a holiday extravaganza. Rolling up his sleeves with determination, he reasoned there was only one thing left to do in this anxious state. It was time to start baking.

Ever since Pike’s gentle appearance at the door, your heart wouldn't stop hammering in your chest. It had been so long since you made any new friends, let alone someone…from the Art Squad. You mindlessly inhaled the delectable breakfast Pike had assembled, downing the maple flavored cup of coffee in one gulp. What was a girl to do? This wasn’t a real Hallmark Holiday special. This wasn’t “It’s a Wonderful Life” and you weren’t Donna Reed. You were here, on a working vacation, as per your therapist’s recommendation, and Bessie the Hyundai had mercilessly betrayed you on this blustery blizzard Sunday. Firmly grasping your fantasies in one hand you hopped out of bed, determined to double down on your holiday independence. If something seemed too good to be true, it probably was, and you were obviously infringing on Marcus’ Holiday solo expedition. Sorry, Agent Pike, you reprimanded yourself. No getting familiar now, just because he had accidentally seen you in your altogethers. Pull up your big girl snow suit and get back to work! Taking off his large t-shirt you gripped it in your hands, indulging in one final inhale of the woodsy cologne, and flung it onto the bed. Something for the road, you reasoned, hopping back into your pink snowsuit and mustering every ounce of determination you had left. You gazed over at the demolished breakfast, disappointed at your decision to make a quick exit. Compliments to the chef, you pouted, willing yourself to dart down the stairwell, before you changed your mind.

“IamsosorryIinterruptedyourholidayvacayIcantthankyouenoughforthemazingbreakfastandhospitality.HonestlyitssoembarassingthatBessiekonkedoutIamsureIcangiveitanothergo.AndthankyouagainforallofyourhelpAgentPike!”

Pike peaked his head out of the kitchen just in time to see the flurry of pink cascading by him in a tornado of activity, whisking down the stairwell and practically running toward the door.

“Oh watch out for the…!”

If you had paused long enough to see Pike’s fallen countenance at your quick departure you might have anticipated the upcoming results. But grabbing the crowbar on your exit, you flung open the cabin door and nearly fell over the waist high tumult of snow.

“….snow fall!” Pike managed to get out before a clump fell on top of your head poised just beneath the door frame. You had never seen so much snow in all your life. The momentum of your exit catapulted you forward as you fell face first into the soft pillowed blanket of snow. Pike hurried forward, grasping your snow suit around the waist and hoisting you back up to a standing position. You inhaled shakily, icicles stinging your cheeks as your feet slid on top of the snowy dregs. “Steady there, sailor!” Pike laughed, gripping you hard around the waist and pulling you in for an awkward hug. This seemed vaguely reminiscent of your earlier dream, as he reached up to brush some stray snowflakes from your surprised expression. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere for the next 24 hours” he appraised, somewhere between an apology and a suggestion, as you blinked confusedly. “Let’s get you indoors for a second” he surmised, taking in your silence and sliding you back into the cabin’s warmth. He left his hand on your lower back for a bit longer than was absolutely necessary, making sure you had your sea legs and then give you a quick wink before heading back into the kitchen.

“I already called Triple A and the mechanic down the hill, but you’re welcome to ring them as well” he called from the kitchen, returning to his task at hand. You shook your head violently from side to side. So much for Barbie’s break for independence, you scoffed, looking over at the flickering television screen and Zooey Deschanel singing in the shower. Maybe this wasn’t a situation you could easily run from.

“How did those pancakes treat ya?” he inquired, grabbing a nearby apron that said “Who Needs a Hug?” and pulling a cookie sheet out of the oven. Momentarily stunned into silence you tried to get your bearings in the midst of this snowy quandary. Your Arts and Crafts Girl Scout Training hadn’t prepared you for this particular scenario, but you were an independent gal, with brains and boobs. Time to rally your wits and try anew.

“Um…the pancakes were absolutely amazing” you confessed, watching Pike beam with pride and pour you another cup of coffee in the interim. “Are you starting a bed and breakfast anytime soon?’ you teased, pulling your snowsuit hood back down and taking the coffee from him.

“I think I’m gonna need better hosting skills for that to happen” he apologized with chagrin. “I’m not sure you were catching me at my best last night” the pained expression on his face, softened your resolve as you plopped down at the dining room table huffily.

“Maybe we have a do-over this morning, I’m not sure either of us were on our best behavior” you gulped down your second cup of joe as Pike set down the cookie tray and outstretched his hand.

“I’m Marcus Pike from the Art Squad in Sacramento, and you are?”

You took his hand warmly, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m snow time Barbie, I come with props, though there have been some factory disputes regarding my somewhat defunct Hyundai.” Pike smiled broadly in acknowledgement, returning to his baking. 

“Sounds like Pike’s Place is just the spot for you”.

You and Pike feel into an easy rapport for the next hour, chatting about holiday plans run amok, recent work challenges and options for your car’s retrieval. After some digging on your part you confirmed that all nearby resources were in the lurch and you’d be forced to spend at least the next 24 hours at “Pike’s Place” whether he wanted you to or not. Downing a glass of cold milk, Pike patted his stomach with contentment.

“I think I’ve probably eaten enough chocolate chip cookies for the both of us”, he laughed, returning your coffee mug to the sink and starting the dishes. “Do you wanna watch a movie while we wait out the storm? I think I already offered, but there IS hot chocolate…”.

You paused reflexively catching yourself in a Cheshire like grin. You hadn’t even been hesitant the last hour, revealing parts of yourself that had stayed hidden for the last several years, and being unaccustomed to that level of intimacy, started experiencing an emotional hangover of sorts. Your face literally hurt from smiling so much, but what did you really know about Marcus? Agent. Pike. This was a lot to process in a short amount of time, and the walls of the cabin started to feel just a bit more oppressive in retrospect. The fire roared loudly from the hearth as you back pedaled slightly. 

“Um, is it possible to use your laptop for some work, maybe? I AM supposed to be on a working vacation…” you ventured, attempting to reboot to something a bit more neutral.

“Come on, you don’t need to work on a Sunday!” Pike teased from the kitchen.

“Well, you don’t really know me very well, do you?” the sentence escaped your lips before you had a chance to consider the ramifications. The mood immediately shifted from the cozy camaraderie you had been experiencing to a blizzard like cold.

“I guess that’s true…” Pike stalled, wondering in the tonality shift. “But I’d…like the chance…if you have time…” he trailed off, unsure of his direction.

You kind of stopped breathing for a second, grappling with the many emotions fighting for your attention. What was going on? Once again your snow suit seemed hotter than ever as you picked at the cuticles on your nails. Had you actually forgotten how to interact with other humans? Did the pandemic really fuck you up so much you couldn’t even consider the possibility that someone might actually like you, without some sort of hidden agenda?

“I can come up with lots of activities!” Pike tried to brighten the mood again. “I think we’ve got Twister…uh…cards…puzzles? Oooh, maybe we could make some snowflakes out of newspaper!” he piped up over the clanging dishes.

“Snowflakes?” you uttered, incredulously. “Are you kidding, Art Squad? This isn’t a daycare, I actually have some work I need to get done…”

“Oh. Right.” Pike stuttered, returning to the dishes. The silence stretched out awkwardly before you, as you gazed at his broad back and now hunched shoulders. Outside of his gaze you bit your lower lip with embarrassment. Where did that come from? No wonder you hadn’t dated anyone in years. Bitch. I don’t deserve somebody like Pike, you rationalized, suddenly very aware of your limitations, both without and within. You felt your eyes welling up with tears unexpectedly.

“I mean, if that’s okay with you…” you stumbled forward politely, trying to assemble your emotions one at a time. Get in a line, motherfuckers, you chided. You’re a guest, you’re stranded and you have nowhere else to go. Just because you’re alone on the holidays doesn’t mean you have to take it out on Mar…on Agent Pike.

Pike cleared his throat, softening his expression slightly. “Sure, just check the briefcase over there in the study” he muttered, trying to focus on the dishes. You quietly stood up, heading over to the side room and quickly caught sight of his briefcase. Popping open the metal latches, his laptop thunked to the bottom as you caught sight of several manilla folders and a small photo of a smiling woman with kind, brown eyes.

Uh oh. The ex.

You picked up the photo hesitatingly, as though rummaging around through his underwear drawer. I wonder if he wears boxers of briefs? Oh shut up, Barbie. You swallowed hard, wondering at the circumstances you both found yourselves in. You truly believed everyone was just doing their best. You didn’t have the copyright on injustice or personal heartache. It wasn’t easy to make changes or move in a new direction, but Pike was trying to move on, and he didn’t need your insecurities or relative isolation clouding his own. Get it together woman, you resolved. You can do better than this. Make a plan to get yourself out of this situation and leave Agent Pike to his own healing. Heaven’s knows you’re not put together enough to warrant his attentions. You stifled a small sniffle, feeling that all too familiar lump in your throat rising to the surface. Grabbing the laptop you returned to the living room, determined to make a better representation of yourself, but found the setting completely still.

Agent Pike did seem like a fantastical figment of your imagination, but even the Art Squad couldn’t evaporate into thin air. Your heart sank, realizing how alone you might truly be if not for the safety of the cabin and Pike’s warm disposition. Did you really just ruin things from the get go? Sitting quietly at the dining room table you had just haltingly opened the laptop when Pike lumbered down the stairs in a winter jacket and heavy snow boots.

“Be right back” he muttered, flinging the door wide open and shutting it abruptly behind  him. He continued, wading through the waist high snow to a nearby woodshed.

Mouth ajar, you peered out the snowy window to see him retrieve a snow shovel and begin barreling towards Bessie with decided purpose. Your lip quivered with emotion as a single, unbidden tear found its way down your cheek, pattering to the floor. Jesus, you can’t even manage one day with a perfect specimen like Marcus, how were you ever going to make it work with anyone in this state of mind, particularly during the holidays? Sigh. You returned to the dining room table awash with defeat. Agent Pike. His name is Agent Pike.

Pike allowed the cold sting of the snowy tundra to purify his meandering thoughts as he drove a hard line to Bessie the Hyundai. This is a test, Pike, hegrunted with effort, flinging powdery snow to either side, making quick work of his hundred foot task. When faced with temptation are you going to take the path of least resistance or are you going to man up and admit the truth? Pike paused to catch his breath looking back at the cozy cabin and billowing plumes of smoke chugging from the happy chimney. What truth? He coughed heartily, watching his breath blossom in the cold air. It’s time to start thinking realistically, and without entitlement. This woman doesn’t owe you anything, and the most important thing you can do is get her back on the road to relative safety. And maybe pack some chocolate chip cookies for the road, he nodded with resolve. Are you a man of the law, or not? Now get crackin’…He started shoveling like a man possessed, determined to carve a quick path to Bessie and get you back on the road as soon as possible. No time for love, Pike. It’s the holidays. Get ‘er done.

Now faced with the relative silence of the roaring fire you sat silently in front of the blinking cursor. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. Your eyes blinked back the tears that were starting to crowd your vision. WHY was it always so damn hot in here??? You unzipped the top portion of your snow suit, perspiration dotting your chest and sparkly pink lingerie. Something about your relative inability and helplessness had you needlessly lashing out at poor Pike. That lump in your throat tightened exponentially as you attempted to bulldoze through some work emails. Pike was right, you don’t need to do anything on a Sunday. Who were you kidding? Pike was so friendly and unassuming, he reminded you of all your need and loneliness. You paused to consider the warmth radiating from his entire personhood. JEEEESUS it was warm, you aggressively pulled your arms out of the snow suit, bunching it at your waist and wiping a film of sweat from your brow. If you didn’t learn how to bite your tongue you were gonna end up completely alone for the rest of your life. The tears started running down your face indiscriminately as you looked over at James Caan, chewing out Buddy the Elf for his holiday enthusiasm. You could really use that hot chocolate right now…IF IT WASN’T SO DAMN HOT!!! You blew a strand of hair out of your face as the front door flung open, a blast of cold air rippling through the cabin refreshingly.

Jumping to your feet with resolve you just managed to shout, “I’M SORRY!”…before the snow suit slipped to the floor around your ankles.

Pike stood poised with your luggage in one hand and snow shovel in the other before it clattered loudly to the floor. He gulped loudly, unsure of where he should be looking, as the corners of his mouth twitched upward in delight.

You pursed your lips comedically, unwilling to lose any ground at this point, and authoritatively placed your hands on your hips. And why not? You work out. Half the population has boobs, and the other half wants them, so there’s nothing new under the sun. You giggled a bit attempting to proceed, “I would like to apologize!”

“You would????” Pike bellowed, dropping your luggage next, nearly tripping over it as he slammed the door shut.

“Yes I would!” you shouted back, now covering your mid-drift section and shivering ever so slightly. “I’m sorry I’m being ridiculous…” you tried to subtly slide downward pulling the snow suit back up around you. “It’s been a long time since I’ve…felt…feelings” you meandered forward, unsure of how to articulate your own confusion. “I’m just used to being alone, and fixing things on my own and…I apologize” you reiterated, zipping the snow suit back up and vowing to change into normal clothes ASAP.

Pike sighed with relief, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “There’s nothing to apologize for” he sighed. “I always come on too strong with people I like” he paused abruptly, waiting on your response. “And…I do like the color pink” he chuckled, unzipping his winter coat and kicking off the powdery lumps of snow from his boots.

“I would like to make it up to you” you pondered, as Pike froze with curiosity.

“How?” he whispered, immediately tightening his lips with restraint. “I mean, what exactly did you have in mind?”

Having both changed into a more cozy pair of pajamas you emerged from the kitchen, now wearing the aforementioned apron and balancing two plates of pasta in your outstretched arms. “Do we dare open another bottle of Merlot?” you teased, rounding the corner and gesturing to the coffee table in front of you. “Elf” had restarted for the AMC marathon and Pike grinned expectantly at the culinary offering.

“I’m game if you are” he rose to take the plates from your grasp as you returned to the kitchen to locate a new bottle and two wine glasses. You pushed the memory of your earlier dream to the side, content with the new friendship you had forged with your unlikely hero. Bessie was still anchored firmly in the tundra, as a new wave of snow lightly feathered down on the cozy cottage. It was going to be at least 48 hours or more until you could attempt another winter escape. But currently, that didn’t seem quite as oppressive as it once did, a loud pop resounding from the kitchen as you uncorked the Merlot pouring its heady aroma into the wine glasses before you. You padded into the living room, noting your matching gray sweatpants. Pike beamed with anticipation as you sat across from him, offering a glass of congratulations.

“Thanks for bringing in my luggage, I really don’t know what I would have done without your assistance” you toasted him with celebration, enjoying the light clink of your glasses touching rims.

“It was my pleasure” Pike returned, drawing the glass up to his mouth, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I don’t think I’m the best cook, so it’s lucky your last Instacart order arrived when it did. I think we might be stuck here for the indefinite future” you worried, however secretly enthusiastic at the turn of events.

“This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship” he surmised, licking his lips pointedly and clinking glasses once again.

Happy holidays, you smirked, as the wind blustered outside. Happy holidays, indeed.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers

My Darling Muse (iv),

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...

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!

My Darling Muse,

(Bluets Excerpts by Maggie Nelson) “Suppose I were to begin by saying that I had fallen in love with a color.” “I am writing all this down in blue ink, so as to remember that all words, not just some, are written in water.” “Fucking leaves everything as it is. Fucking may in no way interfere with the actual use of language.” “To take a breath of water: does the thought panic or excite you?” “sometimes I do feel its presence to be a sort of wink-- Here you are again, it says, and so am I.” “I want you to know, if you ever read this, there was a time when I would rather have had you by my side than any one of these words; I would rather have had you by my side than all the blue in the world.” “And we have not yet heard enough, if anything, about the female gaze. About the scorch of it, with the eyes staying in the head.” “And what kind of madness is it anyway, to be in love with something constitutionally incapable of loving you back?” *written in margins: Blue Balling? Was I a fish in a previous life? Is Blue...bi? How do you say "fuck" in Latin? Only blue stuff. I love baby goats, but not like that...Practice female gaze...

Hey folks! This is J, Dieter's PA. I don't have much time to talk. Dieter has sworn off writing, after his good pal Pedro Pascal recommended "Bluets" by Maggie Nelson. Now Dieter claims he isn't worthy to worship at the feet of Blue, and is re-painting all 5 bedrooms in his house. Yes, Dieter I'm going to the store right now for all Blue foods...No, I don't think Blue Koolaid is produced naturally...Yes, I promise to listen to Joni Mitchell's album "Blue" and think primarily Blue thoughts for the month of October. I'm not sure if you can dye a goat's hair blue, but we can look into it...I gotta go folks, this is getting out of hand...

Blue Album by Joni Mitchell

*Van Gogh

*Picasso's Blue Period

*thanks @thecutestgrotto for the cool dividers!

Rocky Road

Here we are with attempt Number Two, a therapeutic exploration of what healthy, angry s@x might look like in a playful, safe atmosphere. Pedge's Cuddle Couch is ALL RPF

Triggers: 18+, fluffy so fluffy to start, profanity, unprotected P in V (committed relationship), lite S/M, fainting, slapping, hair pulling, food reference

The frying pan dropped into the sink with a fantastic clatter as soap suds and utensils sputtered beneath it. “G@ddammit!” you muttered, literally throwing in the towel.

“Honey I’m home!” Pedge’s voice jokingly drifted in from the entryway, as you smoothed out your hair and clothes, in an attempt to disguise the obvious steam rising from your head.

“What’s up????” you squeaked, with an overt smile plastered on your face.

Pedge appeared in the doorway, and froze mid-stride with two grocery bags poised in the air. “What’s wrong?” he asked. You cinematically collapsed onto the floor in mock dramatics, as his smirk dangled above you, now upside down. “Everything is impossible. Students are driving me nuts, the parents are even worse. I feel like acid is dripping into my stomach and I’m jittering like a f@cking espresso!….F@ck!”

Pedro gingerly joined you on the tiled floor, wincing slightly at the crackle in his knees. “Okay with my boundless male intuition, I’m picking up on some distress here.” A begrudging smile appeared at the corners of your mouth. “Don’t try to lighten my mood, pendejo. I’m mad and I’m determined to stay mad.” He joined your histrionics with a theatrical pout. “Bath?” he quipped. “Wine? Ice cream? I got the good stuff.” You heaved a heavy sigh, inching your body closer to his. You felt like you were going to crawl out of your skin. So tired of being regulated and buttoned up in an emotional straight-jacket. You wished you could take all of this power and rage and channel it.

“What if we tried something…different?”

P’s eyebrows shot up straight to his forehead, “What, like Thai Food?”

“I’m thinking spicier…” you growled, not so gently grabbing the denim bulge in front of you.

Pedge nearly doubled over on top of you “Ay, ay…” he giggled. “What are you up to, mija? You want me to relax you?” That sounded nice, to be sure, but you had always been curious about ALL your capabilities. Scaring yourself with how small your voice became when you whispered, “Let me Dom you.”

It was like all the air went out of the room, and Pedro’s eyes turned a dark black. “Fuuuuck” he sighed stickily. You started to shrink down into yourself with embarrassment, until he planted his palm across your stomach lowering his voice about an octave, “I’m game if you are.”

How the hell did you get yourself into this predicament? All of your fancy ideas, and here you were, pacing around your bedroom in a black negligee, high heels and a silk scarf, while Pedge sat dopily grinning from the bed.

“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I think in our haste I left the ice cream on the kitchen floor. We can just grab two spoons and call it a day…”. Something about his innocent tone focused your resolve, as you took a deep breath and lunged on top of the bed, now towering over him, heels and all. His mouth dropped open and he apparently stopped breathing as his eyes fixed on yours. “I’m gonna need you to stop talking now” you flatlined, watching his Adam’s apple bob in his throat hungrily. “Do you remember your safe word, honey?” 

“Rocky Road” he licked his lips feverishly, nodding a little too enthusiastically. You smiled quietly, not entirely sure how to proceed, but cock confident in your approach. Making this up as we go along, you thought, moving to straddle his torso and gently lowering your heat on his stomach. He was breathing hard and holding your quads as you grabbed his jaw and dragged your thumb across his lower lip. “Lots of sound; no words” you threatened quietly.

A whimper caught in his throat, as you stuck your thumb in his mouth. This wasn’t going to be the smoothest operation, since you couldn’t decide what to do first, dragging the scarf across his neck. That seemed a bit too dangerous so you stuffed part of it in his mouth, as his eyes widened to the shape of saucers.

“More sound please” you growled.

Humming into the scarf, his eyelids fluttered shut. So far, so good, you mused, moving both your palms lightly to the sides of his neck and holding with light pressure. Pedge started groaning beneath you and wriggling his hips expectantly. Right. Without realizing it, you had absentmindedly been grinding yourself across his pubic hair which now glistened with your slick. You felt his length bump against your ass, and without thinking you took the palm of your hand and slapped the side of his face.

“Oh gawd!” you gasped in horror drawing your hands up to your mouth and immediately stopping all of your gyrations. 

“Whthpnd?” he comically mumbled into the scarf, as his eyes shot open in confusion, spitting it to the side. “Are you okay?” he grabbed you by the elbows, lifting you up, a look of concern shadowing his features. You had buried your head in your hands, somewhere between crying and laughing, appalled at where your instincts had taken you. “That…wasn’t…I didn’t plan that…” you managed to eek out.

His body relaxed a bit, moving his hands to rub your back, “I mean…I kind of blacked out there for a second, but you’re not getting any complaints from me…” he smiled. Your body started to relax as well, a single tear dropping onto his forearm.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, pobrecita” he chided, reaching up with his thumb to wipe another tear away. “This is a very empathic Domme”…Your sniffle collapsed into a giggle as your hips resumed their circular movements. “Believe me, I know how to take directionnnnnnn…” he moaned as you started sliding down his length along your folds.

“Holy hell” he sighed.

“No words” you repeated, regaining a bit of confidence and notching his tip at your entrance.

He groaned placatingly as his eyes closed shut again. Digging his hands into your waist and hips, your heat swallowed him in one envelopment as he lunged forward in surprise.

“Shhh…” you taunted, covering his mouth with your hand, as both of your movements started to sync up. You were thinking less and less, dragging his hands above his head and fucking him relentlessly into the headboard. You could feel him, like an iron rod inside you, as the pressure began to build, your desire white hot and direct. 

Now wrapping his hands behind his back in a tight prison you grinded down on his hips, collapsing into his shoulder and biting it. As you sunk your teeth in a bit and started to suckle, his entire body began to quiver with you atop it.

“Ohhhhh…” he mewled, his hips starting to falter and stutter in confusion.

“Tell me I’m in charge” you reached up and grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling hard.

“Yes ma’ammmmm…” his throat exposed to the ceiling, now covered in salty sweat. Starting at the divot in his sternum you licked a slow line up to the stubble on his chin.

“Tell me what’s mine.”

“Yes m..ma’am, yes m…ma’ammmmm…” you’d never heard him so delirious and wrecked before, but you were fairly certain you were starting to unravel a little yourself. 

“Look at me when I talk to you”, you held the weight of his head in both hands, fisting his hair on either side. He was blinking quickly and trying to acquiesce, but his eyes kept fluttering shut and rolling back in his head. This was maybe the hottest thing you’d ever done, but you were also having a hard time focusing, as you milked and pulsed around him.

“Can…I…cum…need…cum…please…cummmm…” he sounded absolutely undone with you bouncing on his cock, breasts nearly in his face. You dug your thumb into his jawline, turning his head to the side, marveling at the pulsing vein beneath. 

“Cum. Now.” you growled, sucking hard on his earlobe and clamping down with your thighs as hard as you could muster.

“Ohhhhhhhh!” he spilled forward violently, grabbing you around the waist, nearly knocking the breath out of you with the force of his orgasm. Damn, you had forgotten how strong he was, even at his most vulnerable. That was gonna bruise tomorrow. You started to see stars, tilting back with euphoria into his grasp as the entire room seemed to flip sideways in a hazy echo.

Seemingly from another universe, Pedge’s voice began to drift into your consciousness with a slight ringing sound…

“My love, my love. You’re starting to scare me a little, please come back.” Your mouth was fuzzy and your eyes refused to open on their own accord. I’m tired, you thought stretching your arms lazily above you, and nearly passing out again with the effort. A small sigh escaped your mouth as you floated back into your self, realizing Pedge was caressing your face, and was laying on top of you, poised with concern.

“Oh my gawd, did I f@ck you into oblivion? Come back mija, whenever you’re ready, come back…” A small tickle in your chest bloomed into a smile as you shuddered with pleasure. “Mmmm…” you managed to hum, slipping in and out of consciousness and thoroughly pleased with your first attempt. You were vaguely aware of peppered kisses finding their way across your stomach and mouth and chest. It was quite some time before you coalesced back into existence and found those big chocolate eyes transfixed on your face.

“Are you alive?” he pleaded, sounding a little more concerned than was warranted, considering the earth shattering experience you just orchestrated. “Plenty” you slurred, cock drunk and completely forgetful of the day’s events as well as your name.

“Ay Dios mio” he laughed, burying his head in your chest and dragging his lips up to your mouth. “I have never…” he started.

You began giggling uncontrollably, looking down at your high-heeled laden feet sticking out from beneath him. How did those manage to stay on? you pondered, having long since lost the scarf and any semblance of dignity. “Rocky Road” he mumbled. Your eyes snapped open blearily, trying to focus on his face. You lifted yourself up on your elbows, “What, baby? What’s wrong?"

“No, I’m sorry, Rocky Road. I left the Rocky Road on the kitchen floor, it’s probably melted into a puddle by now.” he laughed. Well, so have I, you smirked, collapsing back underneath him with contentment. “For our next act, Pedro Pascal will drizzle ice cream into his girl friend's belly button and suck out every drop to thunderous applause…” you intoxicatingly rambled, feeling your bodies titter together in laughter.

“Yes ma’am” he grinned, tucking a hair behind your ear and burying his mouth to yours in a deep, languid kiss. “You are just full of surprises”.

Crime and Punishment Fic-Let

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: profanity, alcohol consumption, no dubcon just drunk Joel seeking solace, spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", "Last of Us" canon, references to injury/violence/murder/prostitution...Psh...@iamasaddie I took this in a totally different direction than I expected! Thank you for the fic-let prompt, this fit in perfectly to the series.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1k

The whiskey infused fragrance of Joel’s breath fanned across your face seductively, as he balanced precariously behind the back of the sofa. Feeling a surge of arousal, euphoria, concern and fear was a heady mixture, as you glanced upstairs to ensure Ellie was still asleep.

“Joel, I’m so glad you’re back, and that you’re safe” you began, as he shymied out of his winter’s coat, letting it drop clumsily to the floor.

“I ever told you how pretty you are?” he slurred, tipping backward with relaxation, as you gripped his wrists firmly.

“Why don’t you come on over here, Miller, and tell me while you’re sitting down?” you cocked an eyebrow sky high, determined to shield Ellie from this temporary lapse, and equally insistent to protect Joel in his vulnerable state. Dragging him carefully around the couch, you heard the cat utter a plaintive meow of encouragement as Joel’s heavy-laden feet staggered to your side before he collapsed unceremoniously next to you.

“Preeeeetty eyes, pretty little mouth…pretty skin…” he rambled, the full weight of his body sinking into the couch rapturously, as his eyes fluttered half mast. You gulped hungrily, trying to still the yearning within you. Tucking your feet underneath yourself, you leaned forward to place a hand atop his forehead, dragging it down slowly to find his chiseled, and grizzled face.

“What happened to you, Miller?” you pouted, closing the book that was in your lap and sighing with relief as Joel closed his eyes contentedly.

“Pretty thoughts too…” he mumbled, fighting a losing battle against his own inebriation, as you brought your hand down to his chest, feeling the steadiness of his thrumming heart. His eyes shot open abruptly, as he swayed slightly upright, “Ellie here?”.

“She’s fine, just relax soldier…” you coo’d, as Joel collapsed once again, drawing his hand to find yours. 

“Didn’t do my homework” he grinned, nuzzling his face into the side of the couch and stroking your arm affectionately.  You smiled sweetly, looking over at the orange tabby for any encouragement whatsoever, and finding none.

“I think we can make an exception, just this once” you whispered, starting to draw a quilt around Joel’s broad frame in the hopes he would simply drift off to sleep.

“I did it, ya know?” he muttered, shivering slightly with the changing temperature and settling further into the furniture’s embrace. “I’m a Rascal…”. You wrinkled your brow in consternation. This couldn’t just be from the lengthy week’s patrol. What was antagonistically driving Joel to seek solace at the bottom of a bottle? And what did this have to do with “Crime and Punishment”? Or the character, Rascalnikov?

“Rascal is suffering, that’s for sure. But he’s gonna get justice and redemption and Love. He just has to go through a heap of punishment first…” you tried to deflect, soothing Joel as much as possible with feather light strokes through his hair and across his forehead.

“So much sufferin’…” Joel’s face crumpled in anguish before resuming a mask of stoicism. “Tess…Sarah…and Ellie…Sofia…”.

You pursed your lips with appraisal. It sounded like fantasy and reality were starting to collide. Did he mean Sofia, the prostitute? Who were Tess and Sarah? Lovers? Friends? Family? A barrage of questions besieged you as Joel muttered under his breath quietly. “I’m gonna get you some water” you stalled, before Joel’s hand shot out reflexively to grab your wrist. Strong. That was gonna bruise tomorrow, but you didn’t flinch. He needed you right now. Needed something.

“Sofia…” his eyes glossed over with an emotive sheen. Who were these people?

“Joel, who is Tess?” Joel stilled quietly, his breathing evening out steadily. “Who is Sarah?” you mumbled lowly to yourself, biting your lower lip.

“Sarah’s my girl…” Joel surged to life tentatively, looking around the room as though searching for a ghost. “Sarah’s…gone…Sarah’s…my Sarah…” he repetitively intoned, like a mournful mantra. Lover? Sister? This was obviously not the time or place, but maybe you could inquire sensitively with Ellie, if she even knew. “And my Sofia…” his fingers found your face tenderly as you met his eyes with compassion. What had happened to this beautiful man, and how could you possibly help?

“Try to sleep Joel” you shook your head with concern. This was no time for an interrogation, and you didn’t immediately see any injuries or bruises. Like so many scars of life, these wounds seemed altogether invisible to the eye and yet still completely damaging to the heart.

“I know…you know?” he whispered into the couch, as though seducing an unknown lover.

“What honey? What do you know?” you sighed watching his eyes flutter shut in heavier sleep.

“Know you’re not a teach…” he trailed off, finally snoring quietly, his arms dropping to his side uselessly. Your mouth parted slightly in acknowledgement, as the orange tabby stared at you uncannily silhouetted by the flickering firelight.

Shit.

Pedro-Tober #3

Inspired by @alyssamariag and @norththelemon I've decided to feature curated pics/art, juxtaposed with fics and AI inspired Bitmoji. So much artistry to celebrate this October, we have our hands full. Look at these amazing artists!

Series Masterlist

13.) Javi Gutierrez: Afterglow Fic (Phoenix Rising) @pedges-world

14.) Freebie! IG: @art_faraday

15.) The Materialists: @norththelemon

16.) Whiskey: @alyssamariag

17.) Arm Sling: IG: @amakuni_s

18.) Oberyn Martell: IG: @vanessadraws

19.) SDCC: IG @vanessadraws

Also, Pedge and I are "Trick or Treating"! DM me to play!

Pedro's Holiday Feast Family Dinner

Hey folks! Welcome to our first Family Dinner! We're just starting easy with an appetizer, an entree and a yummy dessert. But don't forget to keep tagging @pedges-world and #pedrosholidayfeast for all of your yummy treats!

Appetizer

Our guy is a snack. Enough said.

*thanks Paula and Buzzfeed for this yummy treat!

Entree

You've made a delightful meal for your man, but the changing of the seasons has made you wonder if you've overstayed your welcome.

"Moody Joel" @pedges-world

Dessert

This is a part of a lovely series I invite you to check out! Dinner wouldn't be complete without a little dessert...

"As Easy As Pie" @inept-the-magnificent

*thanks @strangergraphics for the cool dividers!