My Darling Muse; My Darling Dieter

Pedge Paints Refugee Day

Beldro Ramscal posted about Refugee Day with beautiful poetry and support! Included is also the Pedro narration of Chilean, Pulitzer Price Winning Poet Gabriela Mistral piece, "Give Me Your Hand", set to the Chilean National Anthem...

Hey beauties, you are officially invited to "Pedro's Holiday Feast" for the month of November! Every Sunday we will sit down for a family dinner, enjoying the cornucopia. Things to be grateful for--

First Family Dinner

Second Family Dinner

Final Family Dinner

Thanksgiving Day Reveal!: Pike's Place; Love Actually

*thanks @bernardsbendystraws for the cool dividers!

The One That's Parasocial

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pedge's Bookshop The Talk

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

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

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel stalled in confusion, squinting his eyes skeptically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Levi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Endure and survive” she almost whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she would do it, by any means necessary.

Make Your Own Kind of Music

*fan art includes lyrics to the classic song "Make Your Own Kind of Music"

Pedro Scouts Glamping

A big thank you to @pedroscouts for this fun summer time activity! I ran into Pedge and he gently mentioned that my solo tent was a bit messy. He suggested some after care and a light massage because I was such a hot mess, so I've organized myself a bit more.

Ranks/Pledge I Pledge to Pedge Song Fic Use SomebodyPedge's Favorites Fan Art Papi Pascal Personal ArtJoel Miller @norththelemon Ellie and Joel @pebblume Din and Grogu @lupinsuniverse Game of Thrones Era @craftingwithamyc Esquire Magazine @saminadorazahi Beldro Ramscal Marcus Moreno We Can Be Heroes @firsttarotreader Cockwarming @flightlessangelwings Coffee Shop Coffee Shop Date @mermaidgirl30 Routine @endlessthxxghts Dieter Salt, Shot, Lime @freelancearsonist Enemies to Lovers Enjoy the Silence @strang3lov3 Whiskey Daniels How Much Does Devotion Weigh? @anabdaniels Ezra How to Write for Ezra @morallyinept Helianthus Fan Art @millersblud Sex Pollen Scarlet Haze @katiexpunk Only One Bed Killing Me Softly Series @alltheirdamn Frankie Morales Do You Feel It Too? @burntheedges Fluff + Smut Is Joel Okay? @djarinmuse Hurt/Comfort I Know Who You Are Series @punkshortChronicSweet DreamsNothing Hits Quite Like That First Kiss @backtothefanfictionYou're My Stranger In the Dark @lady-of-glass-and-bone Slow Burn Pike's Place Joel Miller Somewhere to Run @punkshortJust Ralphy @ameerawrites

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's very important that I continue earning badges. Pedge assures me that the reward of personal hard work is quite fulfilling and I'm not just talking about scout cookies. Happy summer activities!

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

Charcuterie Challenge

Pedge and I were pretty late to the game on this one but I couldn't get the @happypedrohours Charcuterie Challenge out of my head and off of my plate. So here we are with the last minute offering! I'm not as familiar with Marcus Pike, but @perotovar and I noticed that he seems to be eating a lot, and we have no complaints here!

Ingredients

Candy Coating sweet as Marcus Sprinkles for the sparkle of life Parchment Paper for Sexy Messiness

Directions

Fall in love with Marcus Pike. Obvs. Place parchment paper on a baking sheet. Read your daily sexy fics until you are hawt as hell. That will make it easier to melt your candy coating as quickly as possible. Dip the pretzels half of the way into the candy coating (allow Marcus to lick the coating off of your fingers and other extremities). Place the candy coated pretzel on the parchment and cover with sprinkles, if you’re not already on the floor, kissing and hugging each other in a sweet, sticky mess. If you find yourself overheating, place in freezer. Oooops! Just the pretzels, not Marcus, he won’t fit!

Enjoy sexy time ASAP. Have pretzels for after-sex-time snack, and stay salty!

Salty Poetry

Body quivers as hot palms touch me Arousal is written all over my face Wrapped inside two muscular arms Ten fingers lock in a tight embrace. Warm breath tickles satin shoulders Skin lights up with an electric charge Hot lips nuzzle chiseled naked flesh And a solid man part shows large. Sweet plum bosom tips point at you Fiery tongue caress the crimson peaks Squeals spill from my red parted lips Soft nibbles steal breaths-cannot speak. My whimpers drive granite to throb Arousal lights cheeks with a pink glow Sweaty bodies flex into pretzel twists Nimble fingers flick the creamy flow.

Credit: Deborahlee, 2016, @happypedrohours

Moody Zodiac

Hey folks! This is J, Dieter's PA. Dieter has gone animalistic this week, and is exploring all things Jungl-ian, including Zodiac Signs. One of his favorite pieces is Rousseau's Jungle Series which he has taken to paint in the hallways, with his own...questionable additions. His good friend and fellow actor Pedro Pascal has also recommended the Nobel Prize winning novel "Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead" by Olga Tokarczuk. He is currently determined to appear in the live action movie...as a deer, and has invested in a home salt-lick. I for one, have experienced some of the benefits of this devolution into his more base animalistic tendencies, and I have no complaints. Yes, D I will come lie with you on the bear skin rug and tap into our inner beast. Sorry folks, I gotta go...I've managed to stymie his purchase of the local alpaca farm, but I'm not sure how long that will hold. Wish me luck....

Moody Pedge

Mood Boards are something new I'm trying for those literary moments I want to do a shout out or a quick vibe of Pedro Fun! Pedge is obviously a self-made man but I haven't had the heart to tell him that Bitmoji is also involved. He might be moody, but chocolate chip cookies always seem to regulate him...

Rainy Day Moody Dieter Moody Pena Moody Joel Moody Javi Moody Frankie Moody Marcus Moody Max Moody Dave Moody Silva Moody Acacius Moody Moreno Moody Mom Moody Oberyn Moody Maxwell Moody Dio Moody Lucien Moody Bi Moody Whiskey Moody SNL Moody Met Moody Rockford Moody Thespian Moody SAG Awards Moody Fall Moody Witch Moody Ricky Moody Gladiator Moody Nathan Moody Zodiac (Dieter style) Moody Pirate Pedge (Halloween short) Moody Thanksgiving Moody Fink Moody Theater Moody Superbowl

Writers, please feel free to use any of these mood boards for inspiration! Just give me a tag so I can read your AMAZING fics! Let's get writing!