Moody Witch

Pedge's Fave 2024 Things A Year of 1sts

@jolapeno Started a lovely end of the year wrap on some of our artistic contributions, and I want to play too! I mentor other artists, but I still have a hard time showcasing myself. Sometimes the whole thing feels so juvenile (#selfjudgement). But I get so much out of the writing process, and one of the big things I've been learning lately is the enjoyment of Love, that comes without entitlement or possession. Just experience :) So here it is! My first writing year on Tumblr, some of the projects that healed me, and the writers who inspired them. Let's keep expressin'! Baby's first...

Get to Know Me! (started writing so many fics I had to organize!) Make Your Own Kind of Music (fanart for The Unbearable Weight...) Pike's Place (we really popped the cherry on this one...1st collab.. 1st series, 1st trope challenge, 1st Christmas, 1st trailer...final episode New Year's Day, thanks @inept-the-magnificent) @burntheedges Summer Camp (Pedro Scouts was the bomb. These were my first Tumblr activities and I learned a ton...) @goodwithcheese My Darling Muse (Dieter Bravo combines art and poetry with his personal assistant, J...sparks ensue ) temporary hiatus...D is in rehab...again Over-Protective Mom (Bitmoji Mood Board) Afterglow Series (intimacy w/ Pike, Javi, Pena...who's next?) Pedge's Jukebox (writing inspo. for other writers, short fics about Pedro characters + music) Blood Sucking Witch (getting dark w/ Max Phillips for Halloween...) Unmasked (Christmas Disaster! w/ Din Djarin) @beefrobeefcal Thanksgiving Delights (praise kink w/ hubby Marcus Moreno) Pedge's Bookshop (Last of Us Canon, Joel and J deconstruct "Crime and Punishment"...with smut lol) Dead Dove December (SH and ideation w/ Joel, mature) @romana-after-dark

Pedge approves :)

Pedge Tweets!

Thanks @inept-the-magnificent for the tag, I've been wanting to do some Instagram worthy characters for a while! I might occasionally incorporate real tweets or photos, but it's mostly just me....and Pedge...

PedgeIsPunk PikesPlace MyDarlingMuse AfterglowSeries PedgesBookshop PedgesJukebox NewYorkNewYork PinkiePiePedge PedgesCinema

Here's the template to try yourself!

Cannes (Eddington)

I think my technique is improving! Could listen to our guy all day...excited to see "Eddington"...We are getting FED at Cannes....

“It’s obviously very scary for an actor who participated in the movie to speak on issues like this. I want people to be safe and to be protected. I want to live on the right side of history,” he said. “I am an immigrant. My parents are refugees from Chile. We fled a dictatorship and I was privileged enough to grow up in the United States after asylum in Denmark. If it weren’t for that, I don’t know what would have happened to us,” Pascal continued. “I stand by those protections always.” "F*** the people that try to make you scared. And fight back. This is the perfect way to do so in telling stories. Don’t let them win. Fear is the way that they win, for one. And so keep telling the stories and keep expressing yourself and keep fighting to be who you are".

@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

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.

Happy Halloween Pirate Pedge!

Oh my! With the boopage wars I quite nearly forgotten our Halloween Poll for Pedge's costume! I think y'all were inspired by this SAG Awards classic look and voted for Pirate Pedge! Pedge and I managed to write a quick limerick for anyone feeling saucy. I hope your Halloween yields excellent booty. Aarrrrrrgh!

Triggers: smut abounds plentifully in this bizarre Halloween RPF

There once was a Pirate named Pedge Who fancied your fancy to edge He traveled the seas His head twixt your knees Your treasure trove he’d give a stretch. On Sundays you’d walk his hard plank Your tooshie he’d give a quick spank He’d shout, “‘Vast there mate!” Your lips penetrate Or watch as you had a quick wank Pirate Pedge never is snooty His hours he’ll spend seeking booty While walking the deck Your pussy he’ll wreck Considering it true beauty’s duty His sword is beyond earthly measure When plowing canals for their treasure When seeking medallions He’s one sexy stallion And always cums after YOUR pleasure On Mondays when feeling quite bold You like a quick tease and a scold He’s captain to you You like playing “crew” And always do just what you’re told. While searching your map for the “X” He’ll spot the right spot during sex Like coins for your slot He’ll leave you besot And edge you till happily vexed Discarding his fancy eye patch His lips to your lips he will latch The seas are quite violent But you are quite pliant And love when that itch will get scratched So here’s to a holiday haul And hoping we all have a ball Whether treating or tricking Licking or flicking A Happy Halloween for ALL!

Death of Self Giflet

Triggers: description of orgasm 1st person POV, intimacy, implied death/rebirth

In a therapeutic context, many psychoanalysts argue the death and rebirth of self is manifested through intimacy. But in this moment, all P knew was that you were going to be the death of him. Wave after wave of pleasure cycled through his body in an endless pulse as you enveloped his every sense. He could feel his soul expand and take flight with every breath, eyes fluttering open in lucid milliseconds of awe. Overpowering. Overwhelming. Incomprehensible. His body was incapable of housing the euphoria that was pouring over him and out of him. Floating somewhere between clarity and oblivion he transcended thought, emotion and time. He was everything and nothing, evaporating and cascading, shattering and coalescing, over and over again in an eternal cycle. Unable to contain the utopia, he exploded in a beam of light, splitting the universe in half, soul spilling forward. Dying to self and being reborn in your arms.

The Boxing Match (PTMAM)

The campaign from 2023 caught my attention and greased the imagination wheel. While our romp took an unexpected turn, everyone left, satisfied in the END...

Triggers: Smut, rough-housing, bumps and bruises, playful strangling, dom/sub discussion/dynamic, hair pulling, M/F description

“Hey babe, I’m home!” you shouted from the doorway, noisily dropping your keys in the nearby ceramic and immediately removing your fragrant sneakers to air out. You LOVED your gym time, and today it showed. Your hair was hidden under a baseball cap and you were already vibrating from your post work out cold brew. The adrenaline was pumping and you wanted somewhere to put it. Breezing past the living room mirror with abandon you found Pedge in his nook of choice, having temporarily abandoned the book in his lap, eyes glazed over with rapt attention on the television.

“Good lookin’! Watcha got cookin’?” you grabbed the book, depositing it unceremoniously on the floor and unexpectedly straddling his lap. He doubled forward in surprise, grabbing you around the waist before you both fell over, grunting in amusement.

“Sorry” you blushed “I’m a little wound up…” Licking your lips you tasted the salty perspiration above. He smiled, removing your baseball cap as long, sweaty tresses revealed your hat hair. “I can see that.”

“Noooooo…” you wriggled on his lap playfully, grabbing the remote and turning off the tv.

“Good work out?”

“Yeah…” you drawled, suddenly embarrassed about your planned monologue. You always had lots of time to think on the treadmill, and plenty of blood pumping music to get you in the mood. By the time you arrived back home, Pedge often found you in a state of…agitation, but this time you were a woman with a mission, and it definitely involved him.

“Babe?” he questioned, pinching your lower lip between his fingers and pulling. “Getting a little quiet over there, anything you want to share with the class?”

You pouted, ever impressed he could seemingly read your every thought. “Well…I was reading this book…”

He leaned back in the recliner with a laughing sigh, just short of rolling his eyes, and moved both hands to your quads, holding you in place. “Yes?” You cleared your throat, suddenly nervous and rethinking your plan of attack. Your stomach made an awkward gurgling sound as you clasped your hands over your torso, embarrassed. 

“Did you eat, yet?” he reprimanded, poking your belly button as you crumpled a little bit, giggling.

“No, I did not, my mind has been otherwise occupied if you must know….I was reading this book last night…and…it got me thinking…”

“Yes?”

“It got me thinking…about the Dom/Sub dynamic…”

“I gotta say, I’m really enjoying this recent academic pursuit of yours” he stuck one finger down your sports bra, bringing you a shade closer to his chest. Your heart began beating wildly as his finger dipped between your breasts, drawing his index finger back to his mouth and sucking on it voraciously. Excellent cardio. Losing whatever inhibitions you were saving, you blurted out “Let’s get rougher”.

Pedge’s eyes sparkled to twice their normal size, before taking on a blackish quality as he dead panned, “You vant me to suck your blood? AAAAAGHGHGHG!” comically sinking his teeth into your neck and nipping at your skin. You pounded his back, giggling fiercely, “STAWP! I’m serious, Pedge!”

He stopped his oral fixation long enough to return your gaze, now nose to nose. “Tell me more, hermosa. Ground rules, please.” You returned his energy with a low growl, furrowing your brows in faux consternation and then lightly biting his lower lip. That seemed to get his attention as you felt his hips shift beneath you, squirming slightly. You continued;

“You know, I don’t have any brothers…”

“Um. This is taking an unexpected turn.”

“Shut up, I don’t have any brothers OR sisters. No sibling rivalries, never really did sports, so running and dance were my main…physical expressions. And kick boxing!”

“You want to kick box?”

“Noooo…” you whined moving off his lap and sitting on the floor with exasperation.

Pedge leaned forward in his seat, now pouting on your behalf. “Babe, you’ve gotta use your words. Are we talking about role play, here? I mean, I love a good character arc. I can be the trainer, you can be the boxer. Or….I can be the sexy burglar, and you can be the sexy policewoman. Options, give me options…”.

You smiled at his endless attempts to entertain and lighten the mood. He lowered himself down to the floor and perched above you. “Do you want me to overpower you? Feel how strong I am?”

You paused, a growing awareness drifting over you. “I think I want to feel how strong…I…am!”

He grinned broadly before feigning collapse, and dropping his dead weight on top of you.

“Ooof! Pedge!” you grumbled, eyes popping. Not right this second! I just had a cold brew you big baby! I might pee all over you!”

His muffled voice vibrated into your sternum, “Mm ‘xcitd to ‘xplre tht toooo…”.

You tickled his ribs and stomach as he rolled over giggling into a ball. “REALLY? REALLY?” you laughed, now straddling him on the floor and pushing his arms up over his head. You paused to gaze at his contented expression, peppering kisses over his beard, lips and nose. “I don’t know, I’m such a weirdo. It’s not like I’m really afraid of hurting you, I just don’t know what my physical limits are…like…with myself. I need somebody safe to exercise them.”

“You just came from the gym, and you want MORE of a work out?” he teased.

“What can I say, I’m committed to our mutual health” you chuckled, circling your hips lightly over his gray sweatpants.

Pedge stifled a moan, biting his lower lip and grabbing your legs again. “Okay, so Dom/Sub dynamic? You want submission. That’s not gonna be hard for me…”

You pursed your lips together mischievously looking at the blush crawling up his sinewy neck, veins pulsing with excitement. “You seem plenty hard, mister. But…no…”

You paused your gyrations grasping his hands and pushing against them.

“Am I bench pressing you, now?” he seemed genuinely confused, if not curious.

“No, you goofball! It’s pointless to test my strength against pure acquiescence. Iron sharpens iron. I need a push back!”

“YOU VANT ME TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD!” he bellowed, grabbing your hair at the nape of your neck and licking a strip of salty seduction up your sternum.

You rested your hands on his stomach, rolling your eyes, but slightly distracted by the very tempting offer. Fingers moved to his waistband and untied the drawstring, as his kisses slowly became more languid, finally locking onto your lips, moving his mouth against yours. It never took much to disarm you, particularly when you were already so wound up, and your mouth parted easily for his tongue to lick hungrily inside.

You palmed his hardening length over the sweatpants, and delicately reached inside to assess the situation. Moving lower, you found his balls and gave a quick tug, as his breath caught in his throat.

“Please tell me you didn’t learn that at the gym…” he strained, starting to swell a bit more.

Your hand began moving in a circular motion, watching his eyelids flutter shut in response. After working his length for a bit, you gave another tug…

“Honey, you do that a third time, we’re not even gonna make it to the bedroom” he confessed, a little chagrined.

You clamped your thighs down on his hips, moving your other hand to the divot right below his Adam’s apple, grasping the back of his neck with your fingers. “Tell me to stop” you threatened, dragging the inner flesh of your lower lip across his throat. Pedge swallowed hard attempting to answer but it caught in his chest with a low growl. “Now who needs to use their words?” you teased, but were met with a mirrored hand to the throat, which nearly encapsulated it entirely. You locked eyes with one another for a split second.

“Bedroom”.

A steady stream of clothes could be found from the living room to the bedroom as you stickily helped one another out of your apparel. Tripping, stumbling, laughing and grasping you finally made it to the bed, squaring off, both completely naked.

“You’re never allowed to wear a sports bra again. That was like peeling a cantaloupe with my bare hands” he joked, grabbing you around the waist and squeezing hard. It nearly knocked the breath out of you, so you reached around with both hands, grabbing his ass.

A sudden intake of air as he clenched, knocking his length into your clit which sent an electric shock through your entire body. You threw your head back with enjoyment, as he caught you at the base of your neck, nibbling at your breasts. “I’m gonna bruise you like a peach if we’re not careful…”.

“Fine by me” you growled “I can give as good as I can take…”. You brought your forearm up to his neck, pushing him back on the bed, falling into him sloppily.

“Ow!” he cried, knocking into the headboard slightly, rubbing the back of his scalp.

“Oh babe! Shit! I’m so sorry!” you gasped, running your hands through his hair and checking for pain.

His eyes glazed over confusedly, “Where em ah? Who are all these peepel? Why am I wearing papah?” You began giggling quietly. 

“Really? SNL? That Emmy shoulda been yours…”

He smirked, “First rule of rivalry, there are going to be a few bumps and bruises, but don’t let that throw…YOUR GAME!” he grabbed you around the waist, flipping your body over onto the bed, towering above you.

“Babe. That was SMOOTH. Wait. Did you hurt your lower back?”

He nodded, “Totally worth it”. Sinking his lips into yours and kissing you fiercely, you grabbed his love handles, migrating your hands lower and lower and lower…till your finger grazed over his perineum.

A small whimper left his lips tentatively. You paused.

“Did…we like that?” you ventured.

He pressed his lips tightly together with saucer like brown eyes. “Maybe”.

“Maybe, I should get the lube and keep an open mind or…we should take this party into the shower and try not to slip and slide?”

For once, you had struck the man dumbfounded, as he seemed to temporarily short circuit with available options. You slowly reached over to your bedside table to grab the lube, squirting a small amount on your fingers. 

“Baby, if you’re still with us, I want you to talk with your body, and Ima listen, K?”

His eyebrows relaxed a little as he silently nodded. Opting for distraction, you latched onto his lips, all teeth and tongue, moving your jaw with his. You reached underneath, looping your hand to his backside, and tentatively probing. His mouth fell open in delight as you massaged his opening up and down.

Moving your head down his mid-drift, kissing a trail from sternum to shaft, you sat eye to eye with his length, smiling deviously and planting a small kiss at the tip. HIs eyes shot open with surprise. 

Quivering with sensation he seemed already wrecked, “Babe…you hate that…”

“All’s fair in love and war” you thought, swirling your tongue in a circle that coincided with your probing finger. Pulsing in and out you took his tip in your mouth and began sucking with abandon.

Attempting to memorize the symphony of cascading profanity and lewd sounds that filled the room, you kept swirling and swirling in a circular motion. Admittedly you were both in completely uncharted territory, but you weren’t hearing any complaints. Trying to fit him further and further into your mouth you relished the salty musk that permeated your senses, now moving your finger in past the knuckle.

“Ohhhhhhh….” he sighed, mouth hanging open in ecstasy. “Honey, I’m not totally in controooool….right now…” he managed to eek out, as you bobbed your head up and down in conjunction with your finger.

You sighed contentedly, nodding your head in approval which only intensified the situation. Delicately sliding in a second finger with a scissoring effect you felt him tighten up in anticipation.

“Ohhhh, where do you want meeeeee?” he questioned, already flying high. Joyful with pride and satisfaction, you only managed to get out a small “Mmmmm…” before he was emptying inside your mouth. Quickly pulling out both fingers and moving your hands to the sides of his hips you swallowed and swallowed and swallowed as fast as you could, surprised at the salty liquid gold settling in your stomach.

Once his pulsing slowed to a halt, you pulled your mouth off his length with a satisfying pop, eliciting a small gasp from him before you both collapsed onto the bed in euphoria.

“That was new…” you rasped, licking your lips for the final dregs. You languidly turned your head to the side, checking in on your sparring partner. He was totally blissed out, smiling foolishly and rubbing his hands through his hair.

“What…just…happened?” he blearily asked, eyes heavy with the afterglow.

You winked, “Ready for round two?”

Joel Sits On You Peach + Apple Pie

I gotta say @yopossum's "Snug" already nailed this writing prompt from our beloved @beefrobeefcal BUT it did get the creative juices flowing, as I've started to write for the Pedro Boys, and Joel is one of my favorites. Check out my previous attempts with Moody Joel and I hope you enjoy this Fall treat with a little slice of pie...

Triggers: post-apocalypse, discussions of "married life", M fo F reader, expanding waistlines, mentions of food, playful sitting/wrestling in committed relationship, lite smut at end...

An enigmatic autumn wind whipped around your cozy, creaking cabin. A fire crackled in the hearth and your legs were tucked underneath you as you ventured further into your well worn, re-discovered copy of Frankenstein. It was a miracle you had found it, during the raids and plundering—little luxuries like books, furniture and a home cooked meal had, at times, appeared almost imaginary. Trying to exist outside of survival had been a Herculean task, but with each passing day, your time at the commune and your relationships had started to spark that inner familiarity of comfort and peace. But with it, came the awareness that at any moment, those same luxuries could be whisked away like the bracing autumnal wind you were harbored against.

One aspect of your survival that seemed to anchor you to the realities of that new, peaceful life was Joel. Getting to know one another under the desperate, iron clad vice of hardened survival had been tempered by years of camaraderie, companionship…and eventually love. In one sense, marriage no longer existed, but had evolved into a state of committed partnership that transcended more than a contractual piece of paper. It was an unspoken agreement that was brought to life in passion, in practice and in repetition. In all the ways that humans were crafted for one another, you found yourself fitting into a life and another person who was helping you knit yourself back together. 

Except for today. Joel was running late. As usual. The foreboding skies were darkening as you anxiously awaited his return, hopeful that the day’s patrol hadn’t exhausted him beyond recognition. “Marriage” had been good to Joel. His mental health and stability had improved, and he seemed, over-all, a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the “effect it had on his waistline”. You smirked, pausing in your reading, as you reflected on HIS choice of words. Joel wasn’t a vain man, by any definition, but his survival acumen was unmatched. Even in this happier state, it was difficult for Joel to relax into any kind of comfort whatsoever. It was only by your daily proddings, smushy kisses and love of baking that you were infinitesimally dragging Joel down the path of blissful, partnered life. If he’d ever get home.

You heard the tell-tale signs of your Frankensteinian bedmate lumbering up the wooden porch and flinging the door open as cascades of leaves and hay blew in after him. Slamming the door shut behind him, he grunted in recognition as you yelled from the couch, “DO NOT TRACK THAT MUD INTO MY HOUSE BIG MAN! TAKE THOSE BOOTS OFF IMMEDIATELY AND GO TO THE KITCHEN”. You pursed your lower lip with slight chagrin, aware that you were running a little hot. Joel’s heart might be significantly armored, but you bit your tongue with embarrassment. Annoyed at your own need, you hoped that Joel knew you well enough to discern your restless state. Joel always had a way of handling you that kept you grounded and present, but perhaps there were some moods that even Joel couldn’t tame. He huffed with exasperation, dropping his coat on the ground unceremoniously and heading into the kitchen.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GARDEN OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS, BUT YOU NEED TO GET OUT THERE AND WRANGLE THOSE CARROTS INTO SUBMISSION!” you shouted from the living room, as Joel clanged around the kitchen like a bull in a china shop. “MARIA CAME BY TO ASK FOR AN EXTRA SHIFT NEXT WEEK IN CASE RAIDERS WERE COMING UP THE SOUTH PASSAGE!” you bellowed, annoyed that you had to sacrifice another evening with Joel at home. “THE LEG ON THAT DINING ROOM CHAIR IS MORE WOBBLY THAN EVER, AND YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO EAT THAT APPLE PIE UNTIL YOU HAVE SOME…soup first…!” you trailed off, lost again in your literary masterpiece as the kitchen chaos lulled to a dull roar.

You began mouthing the words of one of your favorite passages, “I endeavored to crush these fears and to fortify myself for the trial which in a few months I resolved to undergo; and sometimes I allowed my thoughts, unchecked by reason, to ramble in the fields of Paradise.” You temporarily paused in your reading, suspicious at the sudden silence in the house.

“DON’T YOU DARE ATTEND THAT COUNCIL MEETING THIS EVENING AFTER A FULL DAY OF PATROLS, WITH NO FOOD IN YOUR STOMACH AND AN ACHING BACK! AND IF YOU EVEN GIVE ME ONE IOTA OF SASS ABOUT TAKING A BATH THIS EVENING I WILL ABSOLUTELY SMOTHER YOU WITH KISSES UNTIL YOU’RE BEGGING FOR REPRIEVE!” you let your voice echo in the cabin, pleased with your relative confidence and bravado. Joel might inspire fear in the hearts of the commune residents, but you had seen this man in a bubble bath. It was obvious to you who wore the pants in this family.  

You continued reading, “I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm which elevates me to heaven, for nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose—a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye…”. You nodded your head in approval. It was so ridiculous that Mary Shelley hadn’t been recognized in her day as the foremost writer of science fiction. Eyeing the page skeptically, you were just about to shout something to that effect when Joel’s peach of a jean clad ass loomed large in your vision before he promptly sat on top of you.

“Jo-OOOOOOH-el!” you huffed as the warmth of his body covered you like a man-blanket, easing himself atop you delicately, at first, awkwardly smashing the book into your chest with solidity. The pine scented cologne of his plaid shirt muffled your laughter as he wriggled his hips atop you, sinking back to full effect.

“Needs Cheddar” he grumbled, mouth full of sugared sweetness, chomping away at the apple pie you had expressly forbade him to eat.

“I didn’t have tii—-ime” you hyperventilated “to cultivate and curdle bacteria between patrols you big…OOOF!” Joel pushed back gently as the couch creaked under both of your bodies, humming in delight at the baked goodness melting in his mouth.

“Look little missy” he drawled sarcastically “It was a long day, my back is hurtin’ and if you don’t shut that pretty mouth of yours I’m gonna give you a Texas spankin’!”. You stilled with anticipation, excited at the turn of events that had transpired with your moody attitude. Maybe you would have to start complaining more often.

“Just you t-t-try Big Man!” you tried to retort as a blush crept up your neck and cheeks, attempting to squeeze some sense into your hulk of man. Unable to grasp him fully around the waist, you shifted your hands to the meat of his thighs, gripping just under the knees. Joel lurched forward slightly in ticklish surprise, doubling down on his tactic he sighed contentedly, relaxing into your lap.

Shaking your head in comic disbelief, you decided to opt for a new tactic, and with honeyed dramatics you coo’d, “OOOH…I’m seeing stars! I can—t…can—t breathe!” you giggled, flailing your arms like a small child. “My life…it’s fl-fl-flashing before my eyes! This is it! I’m s-s-o weak….” you trailed off, releasing all the energy from your body and collapsing in mock catatonia. You heard Joel sigh heavily, easing off your body and creaking to the floor gently. The corners of your mouth turned upward as you hazarded a squint out the corner of your eye to find Joel on his knees in front of you with slight annoyance and concern. 

“That’s better darlin’” he swallowed, a glint in his eyes flashing for the smallest millisecond. He reached over for his plated slice of apple pie, grabbing a small piece with his bare hand and dangling it inches from your mouth.

“Now that I got that pretty mouth to shut up, go ahead and open wide darlin’” he teased, licking his lips with more than hunger.

Your mouth parted lustfully as he delicately placed the gooey desert on your tongue, as you sucked the crumbs off of his fingers. Hissing with arousal his lips formed a small “oh” as you licked the tart sweetness off of his thumb which he dragged across your lower lip.

“Now that’s settled, Baby Girl, it seems to me…somebody said something about a bubble bath…”...

*thanks @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the cool dividers

hello, dear ❤️

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you 🧚🏼‍♀️

xoxo

ps. you’ve asked for something unconventional hope this is good enough to challenge you

This was so fun to incorporate in an ongoing series, and to do so in an unexpected way. Check out Pedge's Bookshop if you want the final result...

PIP? Pining In Progress....

Now that Pedge and I have 100 followers we are feeling cocky AF....AND we had a little holiday health scare. Imagine my adolescent embarrassment when the only regret that surfaced was that I haven't written Papi Pascal a fan note expressing my (hopefully not dying) love and adoration. I CAN'T stomach an IG message that will easily go unseen, so I'm wondering if anyone can PM me another option! Back in the days of yore, fan mail was so much easier. I don't wanna meet him, a girl just needs to express herself, you know what I mean jelly bean? I'd rather have my perfumed note disappear in the literal ether, rather than the digital one...