My Darling Muse Vii,

Pike's Place A Christmas Confection

It's time for a Christmas Confection y'all! Inspired by @auteurdelabre and their VHS Club, I'm hoping they will add "Pike's Place" to their rental collection. A big thank you to @dornish-queen for the superb "Mentalist" footage. Please enjoy these Christmas Confections until then. I got a peak at Pike's Journal during the Holiday Festivities...

Pike's Playlist

I love combining reality with fantasy, and while I'm sure this isn't a new Tumblr concept, I'm going to be cataloguing our Pedro Boys as per Pedge's suggestions! All playlists will attempt to utilize music or groups that Pedro Pascal has referenced at some point. Get your headphones and enjoy!

Triggers: music may involve profanity and adult topics, short description of character's interactions with music, smut

Pike's Playlist (Spotify)

*Pike, who follows the same routine at almost every job location; make friends with the locals, tour museums, find local Thai Restaurant and listen to jazz music before his evening movie. *The only other music besides jazz that Pike appreciates is movie soundtracks. He adores the soundtrack from “Casablanca”, as well as Thomas Newman’s compositions for “Little Women” *Pike prefers to observe his favorite museum pieces in silence, but since that is so difficult to come by, he can often be found with his old iPod headphones, listening to jazz music and admiring the local artistic scene *Pike is a pretty regimented guy, so he will often go for a morning jog while listening to his favorite playlist.  *Marcus Pike LOVES taking his time in the bedroom and has prepared many playlists for just such an occasion. He loves the poetry and romance of the moment and can ALWAYS be relied upon to make you morning pancakes afterwards. *After the divorce, Pike is a little more armored up, but once you get to know him, he’s a pretty big teddy bear. One of the first things he likes to do with new relationships is to make a mixed tape, and then spend the first dates talking about his selections and how they relate to you. *Pike will often pause movies or soundtracks to tell you the backstory about filming or production. You used to find that with other people who were condescending, but Marcus is always so excited and forthcoming, you find it endearing. *When Pike is in the kitchen, he is always humming to himself and dancing playfully to the jazz pieces he enjoys the most. You try to sneak up on him on occasion, but he always senses your presence, and tries to pull you in for a slow dance…without burning the pancakes. *Once a month Pike insists on taking you to the opera, the ballet or the outdoor cinema in Washington D.C. He claims its to “keep abreast of local culture and artistic trends” but it mostly seems like an excuse to take you to a fancy dinner.

*thanks @steadycameraroll-graphics for the cool dividers!

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

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?”

Dead Dove December: The Deepest Cut

Thanks @romana-after-dark for the cool event! Pedge is feeling dark this December and wants to join in on the fun! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, or DDDNE has its origins from a meme referencing "Arrested Development". The character Michael Bluth opens a paper bag labeled "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" and, upon discovering that there is a dead dove inside the bag, says, deadpan, "I don't know what I expected." - fanlore.org

Triggers: Ideation, SH, little smut, spiritual concepts, profanity, PTSD, reference to scars/violence/gun/death, post-apocalyptic world with Joel, implied domme, nakedness, anxiety attack, hurt/care trope...truthfully, we just gotta get through some sh@t before we get to the light...

@toomanystoriessolittletime has a great prompt, "He lifted your chin with two fingers brushing the tears from your cheek asking, 'Who did this to you?' trembling with a nearly feral rage". I wanted to turn it on its head a bit...

The end of the world was filled with so much more Love than you were anticipating. Not the frilly, inconsequential or meandering love of your youth. A darker, deeper, more translucent death than you had ever imagined. And with it, so many other endings had begun to rebirth themselves into a new hesitant light. Joel was the prism through which you had started viewing yourself, and with that blurry and enigmatic nuance your personhood had begun to focus. Within those shadows a burning ember of your own light had re-emerged, not in contrast, but in intimate synergy. You just didn’t understand any of it.  

Gazing down at your body in the sudsy film of a long awaited bath, your fingertips feathered over the many scars covering your body. Pre-apocalypse had afforded you the luxury of only interacting with your body as an instrument. As circumstances plodded along in repetitious doldrum, your emotional life cascaded in opposition. In the internal landscape of emotional chaos, self harm was the treasure that afforded the illusion of control. A sort of subterranean analgesic. You never really understood it, but sacredly knew it by name. It was dark, lush and seductive and it was yours. A way to announce, if to no one other than yourself; this body is mine. MINE. I hurt her as I please. You will not break me, if I constantly break and rebuild myself.

And then…the end. In one searing moment your life had been plunged into an apocalyptic quest for survival. All of sudden, you weren’t the only one bent on your self-destruction, and within you something had begun to solidify. A raging desire. A longing. A yearning…for life. It was like a molten lava, primal and ancient and even more delightedly terrifying than whatever small deaths you had previously endured. And it was all yours. 

Until Joel. He was the flame that seemed to replenish the oxygen within you. Within Joel seethed a depth of suffering and even depravity that graced the periphery of his existence, seemingly holding hands with yours. There was an animalistic magnetism that transcended words, and it crackled in the atmosphere the more you experienced him. That had been five years ago, and since that time, Joel had tenderly invaded every territory you had previously partitioned off, even to yourself. Circumstances might now rage out of control, but your inner demons had begun to quiet in relative submission. Because of Joel.

You couldn’t remember the last time the word relaxation had permeated your consciousness. But it had incrementally, and in sloth-like fashion begun to wrap its lazy tentacles around your pulsing heart. A home (beat). A bathtub (beat). A book (beat). A community of support (beat) And Joel (beat). But could you accept what had so long eluded you in the past? Could light and dark exist in the same space? Could you somehow let it wash over you, rather than attempting to contain it? 

Joel had never pushed the conversation. Already a man of few words, both of you were covered in enough physical and emotional scars to last a lifetime. But you had caught more than a few concerned glances, as his hands delicately fingered the unique patterned scars littering your forearms and quads. Different, but the same. And now, after so many years of evolution, you wondered if this new end was on the horizon. A way to finally say goodbye, not to life, but to death. Your eyes flickered to the small pocket knife you had laid on the bathtub rim. Your pupils were blown wide with anticipation and lust, biting at your lower lip in frenzied tumult. The darkest part of your self that you wanted to submerge into oblivion, trembled on the brink of acknowledgement. If death had been your former lover, couldn’t you impale it on itself? Couldn’t you once again, ask death to die?

You flicked the pocket knife open lazily, feigning nonchalance and gazing at your forearms appraisingly. You felt like an alcoholic, considering that final drink. Not much new territory to explore, you chastised yourself, remembering routines of long ago. Not too low, don’t nick a vein. Not too deep, to avoid suspicion. Symmetrical for the aesthetic. Your breath hitched in your throat momentarily, paralyzed with years of abstinence. Were you really going to do this again, after so many years of control? Self harm was never really about punishment or death at all, but even control had its limits. You needed to know if you had finally stepped into an existence that could include someone else; with intimacy and freedom. A darkness that understood your own, and cancelled one another out. You had given your body to Joel more times than you could count, but could you really give something you un-assuredly possessed? Biting down on your lip you made a quick, skilled cut to your upper arm, feather light and barely pricking the surface.

You held your breath awaiting the numbing relief or the conflicted tears of release, but found a joyful, humming laughter emanating from your sternum instead. Nothing. You dropped the pocket knife to the floor, gazing at the lone bead of blood dripping slowly down your forearm and licking it away tenderly. No. You didn’t want this anymore. You didn’t need it. It hurt. It actually hurt, you smiled. You could experience the scars you already had, without generating new ones. They were ALL yours. Your own story carved into the recesses of your heart, and sharing them with Joel had been the best decision you ever made. You reached over for a washcloth, pressing it firmly to your arm, the flow of blood already stopping. No more. A death to death itself. Only life remained, and it blazed in bright red as a testament to your new covenant of self. A life that included Joel. Holding your arm aloft you dropped the washcloth to the ground, content with your small victory and submerging your face and body in the warm water. Never again. Only life.

Joel tiredly crossed the threshold of your shared home, kicking his boots to the side. No point in dragging mud into the house. It had been an uneventful patrol, and he had spent the entirety of the day thinking about you. Smelling your sweet fragrance. Kneading your plush skin. Basking in the glow of your loving gaze. I’m gettin’ soft in my old age, he reasoned, somehow happy for the unexpected transition.

“Darlin’?” his deep voice bounced off the cavernous living room which was strangely quiet. You usually had already prepared dinner and Joel licked his lips with anticipation. No matter. He WAS home early. He lumbered up the stairs, achingly slowly and rubbing at his lower back. He could use a bath. He caught sight of the sliver of light piercing the upstairs darkness from the bathroom. Caught ya. Joel knocked tentatively on the door, nudging it open hesitantly.

Joel’s stomach dropped with a sickening fervor, quickly taking in the myriad of sights. Knife. Blood. Washcloth. You. You. You. He nearly wretched, dropping to his knees, immediately ignoring every ache in his body, grasping you around the waist and neck and pulling you abruptly from the languid womb of sudsy water. Your eyes flew open in surprise, splashing water and soap sloppily over the rim of the bathtub and dousing Joel’s flannel and jeans.

“J-Joel!…” you sputtered helplessly, looking into his face that was stained with pain, betrayal and confusion.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YA DOIN’????!!!!” Joel nearly screamed, his eyes a dark black of terror and misunderstanding, roughly running his hands over the totality of your body looking for bruises and lacerations and finding none.

“Oh God, honey I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you sobbed immediately, grasping at the forearms of his flannel and wiping the soap suds out of your eyes. “This….this is NOT what it looks like…” you hiccuped, eyes darting wildly to his face, taking any purchase of him you could find. You were gripping fiercely at his neck, his face, his arms, his chest. If you could explain, if you just had a moment to explain…

Joel paused as a feverish cry escaped his lips unbidden, smashing your body roughly against his chest and collapsing on the floor in a heap beside the tub. He was rocking you silently like a small child, so you let your body hang loosely over the tub, against him for what felt like an eternity. Your skin began to prune and goose-bump, but you held your breath timidly, willing Joel to understand. You would MAKE him understand. You bit back your own sobs thinking on Sarah….Ellie….the gun. You had NEVER intended him to see you like this. Things finally quieted down as the water sloshed coldly against your knees. Feeling your light shivers, Joel pulled back slightly gazing into your eyes fixedly and drawing his fingers across your forehead. Circling his thumbs at your whitened complexion, he lifted your chin with two fingers brushing the tears from your cheek.

“Who did this to you?” Joel asked, trembling with a nearly feral rage, willing the answer to be different than his expectation.

“M-me” you whispered, furrowing your brow with intensity, terrified at Joel’s next reaction. You felt like you were negotiating with a wounded animal. Watching Joel’s body sag with exhaustion he released you slightly to drag his hand over his face in confusion. He closed his eyes, willing himself to breathe slowly, his thumb grazing the light pinkish mark on your upper arm.

“How m’I gonna protect you from yourself?” his voice cracked in defeat, turning his head away from you in pent up anger. Anger at his helplessness. Anger at you, FOR you, WITH you…he couldn’t steel himself against the barrage.

“You don’t have to” you sat up on your knees, cooling water now cascading over the lip of the bathtub and taking his face in your hands, scratching at his patchy beard. “Let me explain…”

“Do you wanna die?” Joel pleaded, absentmindedly scratching at the scar on his own temple and feeling that familiar tightening sensation in his chest. No. Not another panic attack. Not now. He desperately needed to understand. He needed an enemy to fight.

“Joel…” you took his hand in your own drawing it to your chest and gripping the back of his neck with the other. “I’m. NOT. Going. Anywhere…” you pressed your forehead to his, breathing intently and fixedly slowing his. Joel took a deep shuddering breath, grateful for a chance. A second chance. A chance to catch his breath and LIVE, with you, even just for one more moment.

A few minutes passed before Joel tentatively asked, “Is it me?”

You pulled back, your eyes widening in distress. HOW could you possibly answer that question? Was it him? Well, of course it was him. HE was your continued reason for life, you just desperately wanted to add yourself to the equation. Seeing Joel’s love for you, had only inspired your own. Not to live just for the purpose of someone else but for YOU. For Love itself.

“It’s ME, honey. I’m the reason. I’m saving myself…” you swallowed dryly, unsure how to articulate the answer that had eluded you for so long, and desperately hoping that Joel could somehow divine what you meant. You needed him, even more than before. And now you felt you could bring your whole self to the relationship. Everything dark would draw out the light, and Joel might be the only person who could truly understand that.

He looked at you intently, searching for any hesitancy, and finding none. “You’re not trying to kill yourself?” his eyes hovered about your face appraisingly.

“No” you smiled tenderly, feeling the emotional tides begin to shift.

“Are you going to…do this again?” he asked, a pained expression flashing across his face darkly.

“Absolutely not. Never again” your whole self finally answering back. Joel waited. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. He knew he could trust you, but his heart was still thumping dully in his chest. “I swear” you nodded, lacing your fingers through the graying tendrils of his hair. Joel finally closed his eyes in relief, slumping against the bathroom wall. You sighed heavily, shaking your head in amazement. This wasn’t the triumphant moment of victory you had planned, but the end of the world had been so much more unexpected than you predicted. Now Joel knew everything, and you were still in one piece. Love had prevailed. Bumpily. Messily. Painfully. But prevailing nonetheless. You stood up shakily, happy to emerge from the cooling soap suds, a new version of yourself. Towering precariously and dripping on the wooden floor, you kicked Joel’s foot good-naturedly.

Joel squinted up at you, finally relaxing into a tender smile, admiring your dripping form. “Help me up, darlin’” he almost teased, hooking his hand around the back of your knee and beginning to prop himself against the wall. You smirked, attempting to hoist Joel’s broad figure without slipping and sliding as he rested his hands loosely on the curvature of your backside, drawing you to him securely. “You’re all wet…” he intoned, swaying from side to side and reaching behind him for a towel, drawing it comfortingly around you. “Tell me more…” he whispered quietly, stroking your cheek. How could you articulate what you were only beginning to understand yourself?

“I didn’t really…accept myself before…” you haltingly began, looking into Joel’s penetrative eyes and shivering. He gripped you tightly, tucking you further still into the warmth of the towel and his body heat. “But after…the fall…it helped me to regain the sense of balance I needed.  Losing control helped me to find my own. It’s like my survival instinct finally kicked into gear…”.

He held your gaze, nodding his head once in determination. He trusted you, the way you trusted him, and nothing was going to break that. You rested your head on his chest delicately, mumbling into his sternum. “What do you want for dinner?” you sighed, planting feather-light kisses between flannel buttons and drawing away timidly.

“You know what I want” Joel smirked, the oft repeated joke tantalizing his lips, which he hungrily licked. You blushed with immediate acknowledgement, happy to be enjoying your easy rapport once again. “What do YOU want?” he countered, pinching your lower lip between two calloused fingers. You furrowed your brow in consternation, perplexed at his meaning. You didn't want for ANYTHING. You finally had it. You had each other.

“What if I could give it to you?” he ventured, pursing his lips mischievously. 

“Give me what?” you questioned, curiosity peaked.

“Control”. 

A gasp quivered in your throat as arousal pulsed between your legs heatedly. “What?”

“You heard me. I can give you control…” he swallowed dryly starting to walk you backwards to the bedroom.

“Joel…” you didn’t get out any more words before he smashed his lips to yours roughly, kicking the door shut behind him.

*Resources for Anyone Struggling

Crime and Punishment The Visitor

Grab a latte! Time for a sweet treat before you head into The Bookshop! Check out "Sleepy" by @starlightandfairies when you get a chance!

Triggers: profanity, Last of Us canon + references, discussions of death, MAJOR spoilers for "Crime and Punishment", abusive "ex" type character enters the picture

Series Masterlist

Words: 3k

Winter seemed to stretch before you like an interminable blanket of scarcity. You didn’t know if this season were particularly harsh, or if the tumultuous relationships you had begun to form were impacting your perceptions. “Crime and Punishment” indeed. Caught between a rock and a hard place, there had been no real opportunity for conversation since that fateful night at the Miller Household. Not only did you find yourself vibrating with the palpable realization that Joel had his suspicions, but another patrol had almost immediately necessitated his absence. You found yourself slotted between the desperation of seeing his face again, and avoiding that confrontation completely. The anxiety of his potential return had almost overshadowed your own misgivings, coupled with the unlikely possibility that he might not remember the drunken conversation at all. Regardless, something had peaked his attention, and you could only hope you would have the chance to talk things out once and for all.

Winding your way from your humble abode down the soggy streets of the Jackson Commune, you were almost grateful for the momentary distraction of a commune meeting. You’d received a personal invitation from Maria days before, in your mailbox, and were curious as to the tonality of the discussion. As always, you were planning to blend seamlessly into the background as more vociferous members complained about rations, resource allotment, commune responsibilities and more. Stuffing your hands further into your pockets you were doubly curious as to why the town meeting was so early in the morning, and only seeing a few solitary souls dotting the commune main street. Had you mixed up the times?

Trudging up the solitary steps you headed into the main eating area that doubled for community activities, immediately halting your steps at the echoing sight that greeted you. The dining area was completely empty, save for a long table at the back end of the room with three chairs. It was seating for Tommy, Maria…and you. You heart dropped into your stomach as your breath caught in your throat. WHAT was this? Had Joel said something about his suspicions? Maria had always been shrewd, and a formidable leader, maybe even more so with the expectation of giving birth in the next several months. If anything, it seemed to have provided a clarity of purpose and a voracity of intention you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to be stacked against. You had the momentary terror of being asked to leave, but quickly shoved it from your mind, almost guiltily heading towards them.

“Tommy. Maria…” you began, feeling your posture collapse into itself though hoping for a more confident facade.

“Teach!” Tommy exclaimed, oddly mirroring Joel’s mannerisms for a split second, before pulling out a chair for you under Maria’s hawk-like gaze. “Thanks for joining us!”

“Glad you could make it” Maria politely smiled, a hand tucked under the table to cradle her burgeoning belly.

“Didn’t quite realize this was going to be a solo venture” you mumbled, reaching for the water that had been laid out for you conscientiously. “Is Joel back from patrol yet?” the words were out of your mouth before you had a chance to hold them back, as Maria’s eyebrows shot up questioningly.

“No, they’ve been gone for almost a week again. Patrols are getting longer and harder the further we venture into Elk Creek and Mountain View. Dangerous too…” Tommy begrudgingly admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck dejectedly. “Hate to not be with ‘em…”.

“We talked about this” Maria muttered under her breath, eliciting a sharp look from Tommy in retort. “You can’t lead every patrol AND lead the commune from within. We’re already stretched too thin, and I have my own responsibilities” she emphasized, firmly but kindly, as he nodded acquiescently.

“Talked to Joel” Tommy added, “before he left”. Your heart lurched violently in your chest. Jesus, was this is? The moment they asked you to leave the commune for good, finally aware of your questionable past. Unfit for teaching, unfit for living, unfit for…

“Told us that you were trustworthy. Like family”. The words hung in the air as you sputtered helplessly with your glass of water, watching Maria’s reactions from across the way.

“What?” you croaked, coughing slightly in the echoing dining hall. “What did he say exactly?” 

“That was about it. Joel’s not one for lengthy conversations. We’re…uh…looking into leadership expansion and Joel said you were the one to ask…” Tommy trailed off, looking at Maria hesitantly. You stared at the both of them, uncomprehending.

“I have my reservations about Joel” Maria began, as Tommy hissed begrudgingly under his breath “but he wouldn’t even consider the position. His first recommendation was to ask you…” she stated curtly, folding her hands across the desk imploringly. “We need you to step up and lead” she finished. Your mouth parted in shock and concern. Leadership? Whatever suspicions Joel had about your past, he had either kept to himself or those opinions weren’t weighing heavily on the proceedings before you. You desperately wished you knew which one.

“But I’m…” you paused, unwilling to go into more detail, “I’m just…a teacher” you stalled, unsure of what requirements you were stepping into. If Tommy and Maria didn’t know about your background already, the moment they did, it would immediately derail any hopes of future expansion. Better to stay in the background as much as possible, while still proving yourself useful.

“You’re a lot more than just a teacher, and you know it” Tommy unwittingly bruised your disappearing ego. “You care for the next generation of The Jackson Commune, you’re an upstanding citizen, knowledgeable and friendly, and trustworthy. And we need you”. The silence was deafening as you considered their words. You didn’t want to incite suspicion with more deflection. Maria was about as investigatory as they come, and her pregnancy seemed to elicit an almost supernatural power of insight you didn’t want to overtly incur. As though perceiving your hesitation telepathically, she joined Tommy’s request.

“Things are steadily going to become more difficult for me as I approach the due date” she knowingly smirked. “I’ve got to be realistic about my own limitations, and start including others in the leadership process. I don’t know what this might involve, but can we count on your cooperation?” she almost pleaded, tilting her head to the side sympathetically. You took a deep breath before launching forward.

“I’m here” you stated bluntly, rubbing your hands together nervously. No turning back now. Come hell or high water, you were a citizen of the Jackson Commune, and whether they could unconditionally accept you, you were invested lock, stock and barrel in the health and wealth of the growing community. It was time to double down, whatever the consequences might turn out to be. Both Tommy and Maria sat back victoriously in their chairs, looking to one another in affirmation and resolve.

“Like I said, we don’t know much about the specifics, but as soon as Joel and the patrol party get back, we should have some idea of how this plays out” Tommy offered, standing courteously.

“Any quick questions before we adjourn?” Maria asked judiciously.

“Who’s Sarah?” you blurted out, almost covering your mouth with embarrassment, but holding firm to the question. If you were going to trust The Miller Family with your secrets, you needed a better understanding of some of their own. Tommy immediately sat back down solemnly, looking back to Maria tentatively.

“What did Joel tell you?” Maria asked, her eyes squinting cautiously in appraisal.

“Not much” you confessed “I could just tell that….he wanted to” you shrugged your shoulders placatingly, desperate to know more, but hesitant to push the matter. The silence deepened as Tommy and Maria seemed to communicate without words, Tommy haltingly stuttering, 

“If…” he cleared his throat sensitively “…if Joel already mentioned Sarah, you could…ask Ellie about it, too” he clicked his tongue guiltily. “Just go slow, teach. That’s not a topic you should hover around needlessly” he intoned, tilting his head forward darkly. You sighed heavily, acknowledging his implied warning. Understood.

“Thanks for coming by” Maria gravely stated, gesturing for your exit which you quickly took advantage of. Leaving the large dining area, the blast of cold winter air was like a refreshing slap in the face, steeling your resolve and snapping you back into reality. You needed to know more. Joel’s continued absences were not only making progress difficult, but you had to admit the stress of longing was waring. Every time he left, you wondered if he would make it back, and Ellie must be feeling the loss even more intently. Perhaps you could seek solace in the company of one another. Standing at the commune crossroads, you finally decided to venture past The Bookshop. Maybe it would prove comforting, even symbolically.

Arriving at the door, you always saw the stark “CLOSED” sign teetering bitterly in the window, but caught a quick glimpse of a lazy, orange tail flicking past the bookshelves. Joel might not be there, but Rascal the Cat was. Trying the doorknob you easily entered to the comforting sound of the ringing bell, as Ellie’s face popped curiously from behind a stack of books.

“Joel?” she uttered, before registering her temporary disappointment.

“Just me kiddo, sorry…” you apologized, enjoying the warmth of the wood burning stove, but feeling the loss of Joel’s presence as much as Ellie did.

“Sorry teach…Joel is on another patrol, and Rascal was gettin’ restless” she sighed, re-stacking the books in an unknown order and throwing her hands up helplessly.

“I think I know how he feels” you commiserated, joining Ellie on the The Bookshop floor and wrapping your arms protectively around your knees. “Did he say anything before he left?” you probed, wanting to be gentle, but also gnawing at the bit. Maybe Rascal wasn’t the only one feeling restless.

“No, I just caught him the morning before he left again. Said you had talked the night before?” she questioned, her eyebrows raised with curiosity. “Did he seem okay?”.

You smiled tenderly, reflecting on Joel’s vulnerable inebriation, and longing to reach out and touch his face in that exact moment. “He seemed…tired” you confessed “and…a bit…sad. Mentioned something about…Sarah” your voice nearly disappeared as you second guessed your line of conversation, but found yourself running out of time and options. Joel was hopefully going to come back any moment, and you were more than ready to offer whatever support and encouragement you could. But how could you do that without knowing the type of wound you were encountering? Ellie seemed momentarily surprised and a bit unsure of herself as Rascal the Cat rounded the corner, butting its head against her shoulder playfully.

“He told you about her?” she began, absentmindedly petting Rascal and shifting with discomfort.

“He mentioned her, and you…and someone else named Tess”.

Ellie shifted uncomfortably once again, her lips drawn tightly in resolution.

“Normally, I wouldn’t ask, but Tommy and Maria seemed to think it was a good idea” you slotted the final piece of information in carefully, as though negotiating with a nuclear explosion. “If you don’t think it’s appropriate, please forget that I asked…”.

Ellie breathed in quickly, an inhale of relief washing across her face momentarily, before Rascal started purring contentedly. “Just don’t tell Joel that I told you” she looked around conspiratorially as though expecting him to pop into the room clandestinely without her knowledge. “Sarah is…Sarah WAS Joel’s real…Sarah was Joel’s daughter” the words finally cascaded forth, anxious for their revelation. As though in support, Rascal mewled affectionately as you nodded your head in affirmation. 

Of course. So many things were starting to coalesce. Joel’s protection of Ellie, his isolation, the supportive father figure that he was. Steeling yourself against the barrage of emotion you sat in silence wondering at the many twists and turns of life and death. You continued to feel helpless in the face of such insurmountable suffering. Maybe the only comfort you could provide was a solace for confession and expression in a world of silent punishments, and maybe it would have to be enough. “And Tess?” you gently added.

“I don’t like talking about Tess” Ellie huffed, moving Rascal off of her lap as he smugly trotted away. “She saved me and Joel, and then she died. And it pissed me off, if I’m being honest” she barreled through the admonition, leaning back against the bookshelf resignedly before quietly smiling. “Not sure what that is” she pondered, fingering the pages of the nearby books pensively. “Don’t see why death should cause so much…anger”.

You tilted your head sideways, once again surprised by Ellie’s preternatural wisdom. Circumstances may have catapulted the next generation into a premature adulthood, but there was a lot to be learned from the ranks coming up. “Death is one of the most visceral of all human experiences, and we get to fully inhabit our humanity when we wrestle with it. It’s like a dance. A beautiful, horrible dance” you offered, just as perplexed as Ellie was.

“I’m glad Joel has you” Ellie whispered, tightly hugging her abdomen as though she were about to pull apart.

“I’m not the only one you guys have” you nudged Ellie’s boot with your outstretched foot as she hesitantly met your eyes with acknowledgement. “I’m glad you have each other…”.

The peaceful silence was punctuated by the wood burning stove, until you noticed a solitary figure begin running down the main thoroughfare of town. A quick intake of air was met by the telltale alarms of a returning patrol as you and Ellie locked eyes emphatically.

“Joel”.

Running down the mainstream, arm in arm you ran as fast as the lingering snow would allow, a small group of town’s folk assembling at the front gate. Your breath halted in your throat seeing the purpose driven pace of the patrol approaching, though not apparently in distress or escaping trouble. You uttered a small cry of relief seeing the bags of resources they had in tow, swiftly scanning the group to find Joel’s telltale winter’s coat.

“There!” Ellie pointed euphorically, as Joel’s formidable frame came into focus, galloping towards The Jackson Commune. Damn, he looked good. You squinted helplessly, trying to identify any cuts or abrasions, though he initially seemed to be in one piece. You attempted to quell the disparate emotions vying for attention in the overwhelming thrum of your heartbeat. This was it. Whatever Joel remembered from his inebriated conversation, he had obviously reconciled himself to whatever suspicions he may have previously held. Maybe he didn’t know what he thought he knew. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

You watched from a distance as Ellie raced to meet him, Joel cautiously dismounting from his horse as Ellie poked and prodded at him inquisitively. He DID have a few abrasions you noticed as you neared the party, Joel quickly making eye contact with you from several feet away. A smile teased at the corners of your mouth until you noticed the severity of his external injuries.

“What the hell, Joel?” you exclaimed, reaching up to his forehead concernedly, as he took your hand gently in his.

“Good to see you too, teach” he winced with discomfort as Ellie prodded at his upper arm. “Not a science experiment…” he grumbled, though his mouth betrayed a tremor of affection.

“What happened? Any clickers? Get any good books?” Ellie immediately interrogated, taking Joel’s pack from his shoulder and starting to pat down the nearby steed.

“Ran into some trouble up by Elk Creek. No clickers, but patches of raiders pocketed in the harsher territories. Met up with some scattered folks that gave us a hand…” Joel clicked his tongue begrudgingly, absentmindedly rubbing a small circle into your outstretched palm. That was new. “Found a copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’” Joel lowly intoned, his eyes sparkling mischievously, as you gawked incredulously. “Had to go through a heap of mess to get it” he whispered, as you slapped him good naturedly on the shoulder eliciting another small wince. Taking his arm in yours, you decided to save the chastisement for later, before escorting him to the medical facilities for a quick check.

“Looks like I can start assigning even more homework for our next adventure” you teased, so thankful to have Joel back in your sights and back in the safety of the commune. Maybe you were starting to believe in happy endings.

“Well, as I live and breathe! If it isn’t ‘The Teach!’”

A smarmy voice penetrated your bubble of happiness as your heart skipped several beats. You gripped Joel’s hand in a white knuckled vice, attempting to keep your face as stoic as possible, before turning slowly towards the familiar gravel, you had so happily escaped in year’s past. Joel’s face flicked to yours intensely as Ellie’s face contorted in skepticism.

“Levi” you drawled sarcastically, plastering a smile across your face politely, and gripping Joel’s hand even tighter. Joel positioned himself ever so slightly ahead of you, broadening his chest and staring fixedly at the stranger that stood before him.

“Couldn’t be more grateful to The Jackson Commune for welcoming us sorry band of misfits for a temporary respite”. Levi’s voice was as honeyed and calculated as ever, but you had learned long ago to distrust every iota of Levi’s practiced and sinister promises. “Looks like your Joel found himself between a rock and hard place. We were just happy to arrive when we did, and give ‘em a hand” Levi extended his hand to Joel who summarily dismissed it, coldly.

“Happy to get you back on your way after a square meal” Joel gritted his teeth harshly, watching your staunch expression, and growing more adversarial by the minute.

“Where ya from anyways?” Ellie squinted skeptically, already attuned to the tension in the frigid winter air.

“Oh we go way back, isn’t that right, teach?” Levi lightly touched your elbow which you jerked back reflexively. 

“Let’s get you to the medical bay” you uttered briskly, dragging Joel behind you before he did something you would both regret. Joel clenched his jaw resolutely, watching your face intently as he followed. You tried desperately to ignore the salty tears cascading down your cheeks with abandon, but the heat of Joel’s gaze seemed to propel them forward. Joel might not care about your questionable background, but there was no doubt in your mind;

Your past had just walked in through the gates of The Jackson Commune. And right now, there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to escape it.

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...

WIP Poll

All right, I think I need a little Tumblr assistance! I've run away with myself regarding Mood Boards but have a number of WIPS on the horizon. Maybe if I get a digital nudge it will push me in the right direction. I'm ALL over the place...

Check us out!

Roll-a-Trope Snowed In Challenge New York, New York Series (RPF)

Pedge Tweets PedgesCinema

Just playing a little catch up with Pedge's Cinema! I hope you will check out our upcoming fic for "Thelma and Louise" when Javi and J find themselves on an adventurous road trip across the Italian countryside. In the interim, don't forget to check out the Afterglow Series Javi Edition; Phoenix Rising. Pedge would also like me to remind us all to check out...anything with Nicholas Cage. Duh.

Series Masterlist

Pike's Place When Harry Met Sally Finale

I fell hard for these two, in an unexpected way. It wasn't until @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" that I managed to really sink my teeth into this delectable winter treat. I've completed a slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent! Hope you enjoy!

Triggers: little profanity, no real smut just kissy time, New Year's celebration and revisitation of the ex...

Word Count: 2k

Series Masterlist

Pike stood joyfully beaming, his cheeks rosy from the cold, and unabashedly in love. Politely jostled from side to side, and standing outside the Lincoln Memorial, he and thousands of his closest friends were awaiting the countdown to New Year’s. Perhaps working for the CIA Art Squad had a few perks. Jamming his hands further still into his winter jacket, he marveled at how many memories seemed to be etched in the snow over the last several weeks.

Meeting you. Surviving the snow-apocalypse. Celebrating Christmas. Falling in love. In some ways, everything had happened so quickly, and yet there was a familiarity, even a nostalgia that added to the sense of destiny. It really is a wonderful life, he mused looking around at the happy families and snuggling couples, feeling a momentary pang of longing, anticipating your impending reunion.

After the cinematic rescue, you had both made it back into town and shared a precious 24 hours together, reaffirming your decision and beginning to make plans. Pike was still gobsmacked you had offered to move to Washington D.C to explore the burgeoning potential of your relationship. There was no doubt in his mind that he was head over heels in love with you, but circumstances had proven him wrong so many times before. The heightened flurry of your relationship added a dull sparkle to the proceedings that Pike almost couldn’t believe. Every kiss. Every hug. Every text. It all seemed too good for someone like him, and this was the final gauntlet. 

Having already shipped his belongings to D.C and tying up any loose, Californian ends, Pike had bidden you an emotional farewell at the airport, safe in the knowledge that you were going to follow in a matter of days. It hadn’t been easy to arrange the travel, but working for the CIA was turning out to be the professional blessing he had always dreamed of. You needed time to explain the situation to your parents, professionally transition into a permanent remote position, put larger items in storage and give your apartment complex 30 days notice. Texting and talking everyday, the bigger countdown had begun, until you could hop on a plane and join Pike for the New Year’s celebration you had only seen in movies. Except it wasn’t a cinematic illusion anymore. This was going to be reality. He hoped.

Shuffling his feet together restlessly, he glanced down at his phone anxiously. You had already boarded the plane in California and were headed towards him, but even the reunion had been difficult to orchestrate. Holidays were rough, and Mother Nature seemed to be following the two of you wherever you went. Pike looked around The Lincoln Memorial imagining it columned by cherry blossoms, walking hand in hand to local food markets. Maybe you’d wear a pink sundress, your heels clicking across the marbled floors of the Smithsonian. Maybe he would take off his suit jacket and place it lovingly around your shoulders when the summer breeze began to turn into autumn caresses. Pike shivered mindlessly in the winter chill as another partygoer apologized profusely for the inconvenience. He finally had everything he needed, but where was the girl? HIS girl. His “Pink”.

Settling in to his D.C apartment, he wasn’t sure the sparse emptiness was dictated by newness alone. There was something missing, and it was YOU. It had been a part of the ongoing discussion, but Pike wanted to take it slow. He knew all too well the ramifications of only leading with his heart and not his head, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he could call you his girlfriend yet, but moving across the country for the sake of love seemed like a pretty good sign. He just prayed he could be worthy of the sacrifices you were already making and that he wanted to return.

Pike checked his phone once again, disappointedly glancing down at his feet, and the pamphlets and candy wrappers littering the landscape. The beauty and community of D.C was absolutely phenomenal, but what he wouldn’t give for a bowl of Thai, a hot toddy and his hot girlfriend cuddled up next to him, watching “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington”. Jimmy Stewart understood. Sometimes, all a man needs is his principles, his passions and his person…Pink. Pike nodded his head definitively. If he could just find her.

Desperately scanning the crowd once again, he was just about to offer his own apology of concern before taking a second glance at the nightmarish-like figure that had bumped against him awkwardly.

Lisbon.

Reprimanding himself for a slew of profanity that flashed through his mind, he bit his lower lip painfully. What the hell was his ex doing in D.C? Was he hallucinating? Was this another one of his evening terrors come to life? But, abruptly shoved from side to side and exiting his romantic reverie, he found himself face to face with the life not lived. This moment was all too real, and he initially wanted to escape it as quickly as possible.

“Agent Pike!” Lisbon awkwardly chirped, as Marcus cleared his throat with irritation. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the exchange, it just seemed to drag all of his newly buried insecurities to the surface once again. He had already crossed the United States to start anew, and somehow his past was threatening to derail his promising new future. Good God, what if you decided to show up NOW! Pike looked nervously around him, seeking an escape route, but immediately doubled down on his resolve. Those who did not learn from history were doomed to repeat it, and he couldn’t be more assured of his steps moving forward. This was the moment he could finally put the nail in the coffin that was Christmas Past, and delightedly step into a new year and a new future…with YOU.

“Agent Lisbon” Pike mumbled, jamming a cold hand forward and shaking Lisbon’s hand curtly. “How do you find yourself in D.C this winter?” he attempted the idle small talk, still searching the crowd for your redemptive face. This was not how he planned to start the New Year.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to avoid your offices during my visit here. I know things are…difficult” Lisbon sighed, her eyes squinting skeptically at Pike in the anticipatory crowd. Marcus paused, thinking back on the quick friendship that had developed in the professional time together, and felt his heart melt slightly at the unnecessary awkwardness. What was he doing? This wasn’t necessary. Nobody had done anything wrong. The paths of life had happily taken them in different directions, and without those very same choices, he wouldn’t have found his way to Pike’s Place and more importantly….to YOU. This was a chance to move forward, without hesitancy and step into the optimism of a New Year.

“It’s nice to see you again!” Pike smiled good-naturedly, clocking Lisbon’s immediate skepticism. “I…I’m getting situated into the D.C offices, and if I’m totally honest, that’s thanks to you!” he impishly smirked, shrugging his shoulders transparently. “It’s a wonderful step for me and…my life is really starting to take off here” he confessed, hoping he was communicating  enough of the details to put Lisbon at ease, and not so many intricacies as to confuse the situation. 

“You look good!” Lisbon exclaimed, her cheeks reddening slightly at the possible misinterpretation of the moment, as Pike’s eyes lit up with acknowledgement.

“I’m waiting for my…I’m meeting someone!” Pike beamed like a schoolboy, seizing the opportunity to share in his recent triumph, and hopeful that Lisbon was receptive. 

“Oh?!” Lisbon looked temporarily shocked, and then relieved to see Pike grinning from ear to ear so enthusiastically. 

“YeahImnotreallysureifIcancallhermygirlfriendyetbutwebasicallysavedone anotherslives.YouwouldnotbelievetheChristmaswewereabletosharetogetherandletsbehonestyouandIneverreallyconnectedinthewaythatwouldhavelastedandbythewayIneverapologizedformisreadingthatsituationwithyou.AnywaysIthinkthismightbeitandIamthinkingaboutaskinghertomoveinwithmewhichissoclassicPikebutIknowwebelongtogetherandIknowshefeelsthesameway!”

Pike breathed quickly, a rush of adrenaline surging through his system as his face flushed with the excitement of love’s glow. Pink must be rubbing off on me, he chuckled with slight chagrin, checking his phone once again as the DJ attempted to corral the audience into some last minute celebrations.

Lisbon registered a momentary look of surprise before relaxing into a more peaceful acknowledgment. “That’s wonderful Agent Pike, if anyone deserves it, it’s YOU” she smiled, with tight lips, taking a moment to squeeze Pike’s forearm in friendship and scoot past him quickly.

“I won’t…uh…I won’t be seeing you at the office, will I?” Pike winced at the phrasing, but wanted to be crystal clear about his intentions. Only one woman had his heart, and he was desperately hoping you would arrive in time to save him once again.

“No!” Lisbon nearly shouted, enveloped slightly by the oncoming crowd and gesturing behind her. Just wanted to get a peak at the New Year celebration! Headed to the airport now! Congrats Pike, it couldn’t happen to a better guy!”

Pike beamed with renewed confidence, already distracted by the buzzing phone in his hand. “Gotta go Lisbon! Great to see you!” he plugged his ear tightly, cradling the phone to the side of his face…. “PINK????!!!!”

All that materialized was a garbled static of white noise, as Pike looked furiously around for your familiar face. “PINK???!!!” he shouted a few more times before the call dropped unceremoniously. A few solitary snowflakes flitted before his gaze as the DJ began to organize the countdown. He was running out of time! Were you okay? Where were you? Was your flight delayed? The crowd began to chatter nervously, enjoying the quick snowfall and surge of New Year energy. He knew his expectations always seemed to be running out of his control, but how he longed to hold you in his arms again. Even the past few days had felt interminable, having previously shared such intimacy, he was almost crawling out of his skin to get to you in these last celebratory moments of the year that had finally brought him to YOU. Punching a few buttons quickly, he redialed, waiting for the lilting sound of his reason to celebrate. His reason to love. His…

Pink.

The bright, gregarious shock of your pink snowsuit dotted the otherwise camouflaged landscape as you both made eye contact from about fifty feet away.  “Alright folks, we’ve got about five minutes left before the countdown begins. Start prepping for that New Year’s Eve kiss!” the announcer exclaimed, as your face lit up in a dazzling array of joy. Pike’s eyes widened enthusiastically, as he inched his way closer to you, desperately trying to pace himself, but overwhelmed by his dreams finally coming to fruition. Like two magnets, you were drawn together, giggling and shuffling around the sea of humanity surrounding you.

“Hey stranger!” you shouted before Pike tenderly grasped your face in both hands and planted a deep, passionate kiss between your lips seductively. The entire crowd disappeared quietly as you hummed into Marcus’ mouth contentedly. You were exactly where you wanted to be, here in Pike’s embrace, ready to start the New Year with all the promise and acceptance you both so readily deserved. Pike pulled back slightly, his face flush with the cold and excitement of the moment.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait…” Pike grinned dopily, running his hands down your arms warmly and intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’re here!” he sighed, smiling down at you with tenderness.

“You’ve got me!” you retorted, seeing nothing but Pike. The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity and obligation, but you found yourself on the doorstep of a new life and a new empowerment, and wanted to enjoy every moment of it. “I dropped off my luggage at the hotel before I arrived…I think my phone is all wonky…” you explained, before Pike pulled you in for another kiss.

“Okay folks, grab your loved ones it’s time to start the countdown of one minute!” the DJ  shouted, but it all seemed like meaningless nonsense in the background of your sparkling bubble of love.

“I’ve been thinking about that…” Pike lowly intoned, drawing your forehead to his and swaying back and forth slightly in the cold, winter air. “No pressure, or anything, but if you wanted to stay with me…for a bit…we could…see about keeping each other warm?” Marcus teased, biting at your lower jaw suggestively, and wrapping his arms tightly around your torso. You snuggled up into the crook of his neck, enjoying the bristle of his newly developing winter’s beard, and peppering feather-light kisses across the sensitive skin below it.

“For survival?” you questioned curiously, finally hearing the crowd begin the New Year’s countdown.

“For survival!” Pike teased, kissing you sensitively on the cheek.

“SIX—FIVE…” the crowd began.

“FOUR—THREE…” you and Pike mirrored one another with ebullience.

“TWO—ONE—-HAPPY NEW YEAR!” everyone shouted victoriously, but you were already lost in the next kiss that never really ended. The loudspeakers started to play “Auld Lang Syne” as happy partygoers attempted to sing along.

“What does this song mean? My whole life, I don't know what this song means. 'Should old acquaintance be forgot'. Does that mean that we should forget old acquaintances? Or does it mean that if we happened to forget them, we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot ‘em?” Pike recited above the din of the loudspeakers.

“That was impressive!” you yelled back. “How many times have you watched ‘When Harry Met Sally?’” you teased, pinching at Pike’s stomach playfully.

“Not nearly enough, if it hasn’t been with you!” he beamed, hugging you tightly and finally assured that everything would be alright. It was the beginning of your life in D.C, your life with Pike and the life you had always dreamed of, but never fully grasped. And yet here you were; grasping the love of your life firmly and fixedly with both hands, and never letting go. Happy New Year!

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

@morallyinept @littlemisspascal @wannabe-urs

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @wordywarriorwrites

@janaispunk @timelordfreya @schnarfer @devineconjuring 

@mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk 

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

@copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita @princesspurple75

@harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @zaniasky @quicax3

@shaunasflannel @anelva @shinyanchorobject @flyingthroughtheave @anoverwhelmingdin 

The Uninvited

Pedge and I feel like we've been waiting forever to see this movie. It was truly unique; a searing observation about the different stages of industry performance, motherhood, regret...I was really enchanted. Kind of annoyed it didn't get the notoriety I feel it deserved. Nadia Conners has a really interesting artistic voice, I'm excited to see her do more...Well, and this guy of course...

Oh God. Really starting to understand the value of plastic surgery. Thought I was going to age well. I really did. Actually I didn’t think I was gonna age at all. The more I think about him the more he slips away from me. He used to go on wanders, and oh, I can see him. There he is at the bar. There he goes again, a vanishing shade. His smile. Down in the deep at the bottom of the ocean there lived a sparking glow fish. Alone in the dark the only light it could see was the light from its insides. Well one day it rose up through the darkness into the light and lo and behold, it saw another fish with golden scales. Oh how the sparkle fish wished it could be as bright and shiny as the golden fish. So you know what it did? It tucked its little, starry little arms into a ball. Sleep tight, little light all you wish will come this night. And he went right to sleep. It’s been a long time. I really have to do this right now before I do anything else. I’m sorry. This is gonna be harder than I thought. I have a long list and you were at the very end. Apparently I had a drinking problem, at least that’s the consensus according to the powers that be. So I went to rehab, and I realized I have all of these unresolved feelings. And you know how they say you’re stuck at the age when you started to drink problematically? For me that was 29. Rose you’re my 29. Just let me do this please. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Goddamn it I missed you. I’m sorry about all the drama. I’ve seen you out a couple times but I wasn’t ready to talk to you yet. I’m sorry. I am sorry. I’m still in love with you.

*Thank you @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book!

@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