The Audition:

Max's Mix Spotify

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

Pedge's Jukebox

Max's Mix: Spotify

*Max Phillips, who has had the same playlist for the last decade and still listens to it on his i-pod *Feels that recent music lacks the passion and conviction of music from the past  *For his next adjustment as Chief of Operations will offer an office-wide mandate to remove on-site music, video games, and personal phone usage during business hours *If possible, would prefer to turn a subject while listening to Beastie Boys, but if not available, enjoys the sounds of licking, sucking and gasping to absolute silence *When possessed of an unalterable mindset, will sometimes listen to “Kiss” by Prince and take a hot shower until he has an opportunity to satiate his bloodlust *Before his metamorphosis, participated in a collegiate band ironically called “The Bloodsuckers”. Even though Max doesn’t play any instruments, he enjoyed bossing the musicians as company manager *Actually enjoys listening to the elevator music that plays at the office

Don't forget to check out our recent Max fic "Bloodsucking Witch", and drop by to "Trick or Treat"! We love Spooky Season ALMOST as much as Max does...

*thanks @thecutestgrotto for the cool dividers!

Purple Rain (New York, New York Series)

You and Pedge go to the Brooklyn Museum of Art and Botanical Gardens. It's mostly a love letter to NYC and all us artists living the dream.

Triggers: profanity, discussion of orientation, reference to 9/11, lite smut, friends with benefits, RPF...

Series Masterlist

You were approaching your final week in the Big Apple and things were starting to come together. The show had finally progressed to a designer run, which happened to coincide with Pedro’s callback. You stood in the corner, fidgeting as family and friends cascaded into the small studio room and a table of creatives cast an intimidating presence over the entire proceeding. It was time. You were ready, but all the more nervous wondering what everyone would think. But honestly, there was only one opinion you truly cared about. You heaved a heavy sigh of disappointment, realizing THAT someone was missing, but desperately wanted to connect with your cast-mates before this final run. The cast gathered together for a quick circle-up, as the room began to silence in focus and artistry. Heading to your opening marks, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and gazing forward, happily saw a familiar figure sneak in through the closing door, quickly giving you a thumb’s up.

Pedge.

Merde.

Here we go…

The room had turned into a bit of a sauna, but the audience was gracious in their applause and congratulations as you hit your final bows. You made quick eye contact with Pedge, who gave you a wink and a nod, biting his lower lip with approval. Pausing before notes and feedback the room started to dissipate as cast members breathed a sigh of relief, ready to head into the out of town tech and eventual opening night. Pedge slung his backpack over his shoulder, shuffling towards you through a sea of excited individuals and laughing audience members. He approached with silent applause, mouth agape…

“Oh my gosh, you didn’t suck!!!” he joked, before crumpling under your playful barrage of punches and tickles. Gathering you up in an embrace and picking you up slightly he whispered in your ear. 

“That was fucking amazing. Way to go J” and your heart grew about three sizes. You breathed heavily in his arms, relieved that the most challenging aspect of the day was done. As he set you down, your eyebrows shot up to your forehead.

“Soooo…how’d it go? Am I watching you on Netflix AND HBO soon?” you clandestinely inquired, pulling Pedge over to a corner.

“Come on, this moment is about you” he deflected, but under your watchful gaze could see that you weren’t easily detoured.

“There were executives there” he chuckled.

“Really???” you squealed as he shushed you cautiously.

“Yeah, I must have missed that in translation. I thought I was just gonna be a place holder, but I was there for like an hour plus.”

“Geeeeeez” you intoned, nodding your head. “I’m already imagining the Narcos merch with your face plastered all over it”.

He rubbed his shoulder awkwardly, blushing slightly. “That doesn’t hardly seem likely” he rolled his eyes. “But it was nice to be taken seriously!” he leaned forward grasping you around the waist, “I think our scene work last night really made a difference”. You felt your heat twitch unexpectedly with the close proximity of his facial hair to your ear, and if the room hadn’t been so oppressively hot, you probably would have burst into goose bumps on the spot. You felt your face flush with arousal, hoping no one in the room would notice.

“I guess I have a job as an intimacy coach if this whole acting thing doesn’t work out” you smiled, locking eyes with him pointedly.

“Yeah, I might just have to utilize your personal expertise” he returned the smile as the production manager attempted to get control of the room.

“Okay, we are celebrating tonight, text me when you finish up. I’m taking you to the Brooklyn Museum of Art, and we can enjoy your last night in New York!”. Your heart dropped into your stomach, realizing the duality of the moment. You were excited to begin your big adventure but sad at the ever-changing landscape of the performance industry.

“Deal” you swallowed, thankful for the camaraderie and support, hoping he didn’t catch your eyes misting over with emotion. He kissed you on the cheek and made his way through the congratulatory sea of humanity. 

Your cast-mate immediately joined you in curiosity. “Ummm, who’s that cutie patootie?” he asked. “Bi, straight, boyfriend, husband, poly, trans, ace cookie?” he rattled off eliciting a small chuckle from you. You hadn’t really stopped to think about it during your quick friendship, and the theater crowd was a pretty…fluid…bunch. But catching Pedge’s eye before exiting the studio, he blew you a small kiss, as you and your cast mate both sighed reflexively.

“Who carezzzz?” you giggled simultaneously.

The day couldn’t have gone better, as far as you were concerned, but you found your mind wandering during notes and feedback. Final night in New York. Your heart lurched slightly at the realization that this magical leg of the journey was coming to a close. This wasn’t really a DTR moment, but how were you going to say goodbye? This entire trip had been bookended by an incredible friendship, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You hoped Pedge was aware of that. Grabbing your script and notes you hurried out the door, heading back to your Airbnb to freshen up. You pulled a little purple sundress out of your suitcase, opting for boots over heels, having learned a painful lesson in the first week of slogging it through the Concrete Jungle. How were you going to say goodbye? It’s not like either of you had expected something different. Right? You tied your hair up with a colorful bow, texting Pedge to meet you at the Brooklyn Museum of Art in about an hour, and bounced out the door gleefully. 

You weren’t sure what constituted a New York state of mind, but this had to be close. The city had been nothing but welcoming to you, and after 9/11 it was so heartening to see the city back to its original fervor. You might have fallen in love in more ways than one, you beamed, heading down the stairwell to catch the train to the Brooklyn Museum of Art, wondering what expectations Pedge had, if any. This friendship had unlocked something inside of you that was exciting and new, but was it just another interaction in a city of strangers? You found yourself exiting the train station without entirely realizing how you had arrived at your location, besieged by thoughts and ruminations about what lay in store. Maybe you built up an entire New York fantasy in your own mind. Laughing in incredulity you exited the train station to find Pedge waiting at the entrance, hiding a bouquet of flowers and conspicuous balloon peaking out from behind his back. His beaming smile oscillated somewhere between boastful and shy as you took in his coifed appearance.

Lavender button down shirt, dark jeans, brown shoes, and a smile that would light up all of Time Square and beyond. You bit your lower lip in anticipation. Maybe you hadn’t misread the signals. Maybe this WAS something special. You swallowed dryly, nearly skipping up to him with excitement.

“It’s too much, right?” he blushed, outstretching his arms in supplication and shrugging placatingly.

“I think it’s just right” you hugged him around the waist, surprising him with your fervor. Looking up into his eyes, you held one another’s gaze for what felt like an eternity, moving closer and closer, like two small magnets. Just as his eyes fluttered shut, poised before your lips, a gust of wind blew the small balloon out of his hand and up into the stormy skies. He chuckled with surprise, grasping after it to no avail. Watching the little balloon drift higher and higher you questioned its surprising message dotting the horizon.

“Hope you feel better soon?” you giggled. “Is that all they had at Duane Reade?”.

“I meannnn….a designer run is a lot of work, I can only assume…we all want to feel better…all the time?” he laughed, tugging you around the waist and leading you into the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Handing off the flowers to an elderly couple on their way out you took Pedge’s hand, happy for these last moments in the city that had quite easily stolen your heart. This had truly been an amazing adventure, and Pedge had opened your heart to the wonders that could await someone living a life of freedom and creativity. The moment seemed to crackle with electricity, as you both spent the first thirty minutes, not saying very much. Stolen glances. Fingertips brushing. Blushing cheeks. It was all so delightful in its simplicity. Just two people. In a museum. Enjoying the moment.

Pausing in front of the Egyptian Collection you regarded his manicured appearance.

“You look real good, Pedge” you smiled. “Is there a special occasion?” you inquired.

He reddened slightly, tucking his hands in his back pockets. “Maybe. Wanted to celebrate your tour.” He rocked back and forth on his heels expectantly. “You did great today!” he smiled, deflecting the attention back on to you.

“Oh my gosh, you haven’t even told me about your callback!” your mouth dropped open with embarrassment, as a security guard shushed you. “And I didn’t even ask! I’m so sorry!” you whispered, “I want to hear everything!”

“Eh, not much to tell” he replied dolefully. “There WERE a number of executives there, which threw me off for a second. I don’t know why the agency didn’t mention that. Or maybe they did, and I was so nervous I forgot. We ran the scene, and it was fine, I guess. They only had a monitor, can you believe it? It was a good thing you and I rehearsed beforehand, it was like acting with a piece of cardboard this morning…” he rolled his eyes in frustration. “I don’t know how they expect us to elicit the kind of intimacy needed if I’m gonna be reading with an automaton!” he exclaimed, receiving a high spirited shushing from the same security guard.

You both started laughing profusely as you moved on to the American Art Display. Stopping in front of the “Unknown Woman” you gazed up at her enigmatic countenance and back at Pedge. “What do you think?” you asked light-heartedly, ready for another quick retort, but Pedge just kept staring and breathing deeply.

“I think…she knows something we don’t” he surmised, licking his lips tentatively.

“Really?” you questioned with curiosity, squinting into her unreadable facial expression, grasping at what little art knowledge you possessed.

“Yeah, she seems like…even though she’s mysterious, or translucent…or disappearing or something…there’s a contentment in that. She’s okay with it. She’s happy to just…be. Happy to be in the moment she’s in. Happy to be alive”.

“Yeah” you nodded, sighing deeply, and then, surprised to discover that Pedge was no longer looking at the artwork but gazing intently at you.

“Remind you of anyone?” you joked, dipping a finger into his front jean pocket and pulling slightly.

He took a jerky step towards you, nearly bumping into your chest. “Not off the top of my head” he teased quizzically, eyebrows arching up the ceiling.

You smiled with self-deprecation, feeling a shift in your tonality. “I’m sad to be leaving tomorrow” looking around the relatively empty room with a little melancholy and fidgeting with discomfort. “I’m not sure I could have done this without you, Pedge. Just a California girl, I guess”.

He brought his hand up, tilting your chin towards his, “My pleasure” he tutted “You just needed a little push. And a subway map! Geez woman, you DO get lost everywhere, don’t you?” he laughed, tucking that pesky lock of hair behind your ear once again. You smiled broadly without argument. It was true. Perhaps geographically challenged, but intuitively able to find exactly where you needed to be, and who you wanted to be with. Enjoying the journey just as much as the destination. You took his hand tenderly, bringing it up to your heart. “Well, not all who wander are lost. I just want you to know, I really appreciate it”. Momentarily dumbfounded, he smiled simply, bringing your hand up to his mouth for a quick kiss. 

Heading out of the museum, Pedge looked up into the stormy skies. “Geez, looks like New York isn’t entirely happy about your leaving” he pondered, biting his lower lip in confusion. “I’d thought we could go to the Botanical Gardens, but now I’m not sure!”. The sky rumbled with a bit of foreboding.

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed, pulling him forward amidst the steadily growing winds and darkening skies. “I’m not leaving without one more adventure!” He laughed appraisingly as you skipped down the street with abandon. Pedge had unlocked your heart in a way nobody else had. Who knows, maybe New York had something to do with that too. All you knew was that you were happy, you were grateful and you were ready. Ready for what, you weren’t entirely sure, but enjoying the journey as much as the destination. You headed into the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens feeling a few fat droplets of rain punctuate the ground rhythmically.

“So far so good?” Pedge questioned, breathing in the saturated grass and darkening sidewalks. You began strolling through the Fragrance Garden, Celebrity Path, Daffodil Hilll…

Pedge paused in his steps to cast his arms out to the side in frivolity. “We’ve got the whole gardens to ourselves!” he shouted, cringing upon hearing a booming, thunderous clap above him.

You brought a hand to your mouth in playful chagrin, wondering at heaven’s response. “We might be running out of time Pedge!” you shouted, walking backwards towards the Japanese Hill and Pond Garden. Pedro’s eyes widened to saucer size, running towards you and grabbing you around the waist before you nearly fell over backwards into the Koi Pond. You both started laughing hysterically as another thunderous BOOM! led to an immediate downpour. Giggling with surprise you grasped hands, slipping and sliding to the nearest botanical hot house and flinging the door open to humid, fragrant heat. Your laughter slowed to a halt as Pedge found both arms wrapped around your waist in dripping anticipation. The heavy patter of rain rhythmically lulled you both into a hypnotic silence as Pedge began swaying from side to side.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, unwilling to break the magnetic connection between you.

“Just wanted a dance” he whispered back, pulling you in closer and taking a deep breath at the crook of your neck.

“Pedge….” you allowed yourself a moment of enjoyment, listening to the rain pitter patter above you as heaven roared dully in protestation. “I’m leaving tomorrow….what does this even mean?”

He pulled back for a second taking your chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger. “It doesn’t HAVE to mean anything” he pondered, plastering a dopey smile across his face. “It’s just a moment, and we can decide whatever we want.” You smiled in recognition, giving in to any last minute hesitations and melding your body against his. Swaying back and forth you caught a quick refrain of his humming.

“Is that Prince?” you muttered into his shoulder, smelling his deodorant and cologne in a heady, rain soaked musk. Pedge suddenly pulled back abruptly, shaking you gently by the shoulders and shouting for high heaven, “ONLY WANT TO SEE YOU DANCING IN THE PURPLE RAIN!!!!”

Purple Rain

Your mouth dropped open in surprise before joining him, “PURPLE RAIN! PURPLE RAIN! PURPLE RAIN, PURPLE RAIN!”. You chuckled, lightly fingering the buttons at his lavender shirt, becoming slightly intoxicated on the seductive mist of rain, flowers and dirt. And then it was happening. You weren’t thinking. You were being drawn towards one another, without time, space or intentionality. You were kissing. You were breathing each other in and out. Lips locked in the wet ambition of desire, you drew your arms around him, tucking your hands into the back pockets of his jeans and grasping lightly. Pedge’s hips jerked forward in surprise as he grinned into your mouth with delight.

“What does THAT mean?” he joked softly, as a blush began creeping up your cheeks with embarrassment, noticing the stiffening length outlined against his pants.

“I think our intimacy exercises are paying off?” you tittered back at him, pressing in for another kiss before jolting with surprise. “Is that your phone vibrating, or are you just happy to see me?” you taunted, gripping his lower lip between your teeth gently.

“Soooooo not important” Pedge growled, dipping his tongue tentatively into your mouth, and then with more fervor.

“Pedggggge” you moaned, sighing contentedly and then pulling back. “It could be important…”.

He paused, with eyes closed, breathing deeply until you both met each others’ intense gaze.

“NARCOS!” you both exclaimed. Pedge fumbled for the phone, attempting to wrestle it out of his front pocket which was irritatingly rain soaked. You both clawed at the space, laughing nervously as the phone nearly slipped from his desperate grasp. You began jumping up and down, clapping your hands quickly in anticipation.

“This is Pedro Pascal, how may I direct your call?” he intoned with a devious smirk.

You stilled completely, trying to read every micro-expression. He turned his back quietly to you responding in almost conspiratorial undertones, “Really? Yes. Okay. Got it. Alright. I think I understand. Thank you”. And then the call was done.

He stood with his back to you, completely still as you swallowed loudly, frozen smile stuck to your face. “WELL???” you finally shouted, matched only by the corresponding BOOM that thudded heavily in the distance. You fixed yourself to rush into his arms in congratulatory embrace, until he turned with an unreadable expression save for the swimming pools of emotion in his chocolate-colored eyes.

“It’s a no” he said, a bit numbly, and in apparent defeat. “I didn’t get it”.

*Spoiler Alert: I feel like things might improve for our hero, but you don't have to take MY word for it.

Frankie's Favorites

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! Don't forget to check out our fic "Moody Frankie", and listen along!

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

Pedge's Jukebox

Frankie's Favorites (Spotify)

*Frankie, who absolutely MUST listen to his favorites when making his famous chili. He says it adds the real spice. This is the only dish he can actually make, other than peanut butter and jelly. *Contrary to popular belief Frankie hates to fly with music. He says it distracts him from important vibrations and the feel of the wind flux. *Always enjoys listening to music while making love, but keeps it at a low volume so he can draw your moans and sighs above it. *If given enough beers or whiskey will become JUST bold enough to join you on the dance floor, drink in hand, barely swaying, eyes closed, one hand on your waist. *Cannot sing to save his life, but is somewhat adept at drumming. Took some lessons in high school, but never pursued. What can we say? The man has good rhythm. *Can occasionally be dragged to the random concert, so long as he gets to go with you. He pretends to enjoy the band onstage, but he’s secretly looking at you whenever he can. *Enjoys rap because it reminds him of military cadence and structured life. Anything that gives him stability feels like a plus, and that includes you. *Always wanted to start a big family, but is unsure if he can measure up. Has even gone so far as to imagine the music played at his wedding, but will probably never share with anyone. *Occasionally drawn into a living room slow dance, if cajoled. Needs no music whatsoever, and prefers silence.


*thanks @thecutestgrotto for the cool dividers!

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!

WIP Friday?

So...now I'm just following my own chaotic rules...but that's how Tumblr do. I'm working on some fun projects, ramping up Pike's Place, starting Pedge Tweets and finishing up Pedro's Holiday Feast!

I've got a dark submission for "Dead Dove December 2024" and am "pessimistically" excited about Queen Beef's Festive Failures. I mean, really, what could possibly go wrong? This has been a fun year of Tumblr, and as I near my first little milestone, I couldn't help but wonder...

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.

Pedge Paints Pride!

Pedro-Tober #4

Inspired by @alyssamariag and @norththelemon I've decided to feature curated pics/art, juxtaposed with fics and AI inspired Bitmoji. So much artistry to celebrate this October, look at these amazing artists! Also, it's the last week to "Trick or Treat"! Hit me up!

20.) Frankie Morales IG: VanessaDraws, "Moody Frankie" @pedges-world

21.) Curls @norththelemon

22.) Gladiator @southparkpedro

23.) Din Jarin IG: Tealspy

24.) Sundance IG: Vanessa Draws

25.) Javier Pena IG: Junes.Pegasus, Afterglow Series @pedges-world

Series Masterlist

Pedro Party!

Oooh, can we make this a thing? Of course, every day is a good day to celebrate PP, but this Friday is ESPECIALLY joyful because it's time to hit the dance floor! Alright Pedge! I see some of those moves from last night, we are, of course, aware of your many talents! Yes, I think the disco ball is actually in the closet, give me a second....

In any case, as Pedge proceeds to "bust a move" (hopefully without irritating his lower back) I've been wondering how our favorite PP characters would celebrate Pedro with us?

Let's keep the party going and thank you @sp00kymulderr for such a fun idea! Yes, Pedge, I will save you a dance and get to work on those chocolate chip cookies...

Afterglow Series Workplace Benefits

*thank you @almostfoxglove for the sexy moodboard, I'm inspired!

The Afterglow Series is more focused on intimacy and unexpected situations, so please imbibe accordingly. Javier Pena is so voracious, I wanted to explore what would happen if he met his match.

Triggers: Prostitute POV, empowered woman in a safe transactional relationship w/ Javier Pena that evolves into more vulnerability, a little physical aggression, profanity, alcohol use, aftercare, crying (there's always crying), P in V, a little more smutty than most of my stuff, more valiant attempts at Spanish however inaccurate...

Series Masterlist

You loved your job. It wasn’t the type of thing you could easily discuss with your sister and the futbol moms. But you felt empowered as fuck, and prostitutes were more protected than ever. To be honest, you didn’t really think of yourself in those terms. What you thought of was the money and the sense of power you felt, holding important men, quite literally by the balls. And Javier Pena was one of them.

You’re not sure when, but at some point, things had begun to shift. At first, he came over for a quick whiskey and a fuck. And then one time, he arrived on your doorstep, already drunk and cuddly as a teddy bear. You don’t think he even remembered, leaving $100 bucks on your nightstand and thanking you for a “good time”. There was a routine of sorts, and sometimes he was flat out aggressive, but you never had a problem with that. As long as he paid, you were happy to incur a few bumps and bruises, and knowing he left happy, your income was relatively secure. But last week, he came by, perfectly sober and ready…to talk? It wasn’t a DTR, that would be ludicrous. He just wanted to talk. You kept trying to lure him to bed, but he endlessly deflected, making you laugh till you nearly snorted iced tea out of your nose, ordering  tacos from the seedy joint downstairs, and still leaving $100 bucks on the nightstand after you fell asleep watching tv. What the non-fuck was going on?

Today seemed like the routine as per usual. He’d shown up on your doorstep, raring to go, whiskey in hand and lust pouring from his steely gaze. Several breaks in, he’d enjoyed himself profusely and you found yourself being pounded from the back, as his sweaty hips thrashed against you loudly. Until….you had a problem. You were cumming.

The day had been fine, you’d already had several clients and were looking forward to seeing Javier in the evening. Feeling relaxed and unfocused you hadn’t realized your body was careening out of your control until this very moment. A quick surprising breath caught in your throat as you attempted to stifle a low moan…

“Que?” Javier questioned, as though telepathically linked to every nerve in your body.

You tried to play it off as one of your many performances, “Oh Javi more! So wet, so wet…” until you realized those statements weren’t a fabrication. Your legs were already trembling and the room was starting to spin around you.

“You like that, pobrecita?” he kept a relentless pace, jack hammering into you from behind. “You never tell me what you like…” he grunted appraisingly.

Your eyelids fluttered shut of their own volition as the silvery thread of arousal coursed through your veins fluidly. This can’t be happening, your mind stuttered, attempting to divorce yourself from the powerful sensations ebbing through your body. You prided yourself on your professionalism, but quite honestly, you didn’t get into this career for…sex. Most of the men that came to you were escaping a disappointing home life or were otherwise sexually unsuccessful, so their last concern was your pleasure, and that was fine for you. No reason you needed to be vulnerable in the workplace. The money was compensation enough and you could pleasure yourself on your own time. But Javier Pena wasn’t a regular guy, and when it came to sex, he was actually good at it. He came for his own pleasure, but that included yours, and he was down to try anything. Honestly, it was just a matter of time, but you had remained irresolute and focused up until now. And now, you were cumming.

The harder you tried to swat the idea away, the stronger the impulse grew. Small tendrils of pleasure that pulsed at your core, stuttered breaths that caught in your throat, whimpers of ecstasy that escaped from your mouth; Javier was devouring it like a man starved.

“There she is…” he drawled, grabbing you by the throat and hoisting you backwards until your back was pressed against his sweat glistened chest. “Are you going to cum for me, hermosa?” he panted into your ear, as you shook your head slowly.

“No, no, no” you had dropped all pretense of performance, realizing your body seemed to be acting of its own accord. You dropped your hands to your clit, rubbing in quick circles now desperate to get off.

“Mine” Javier growled into your ear, grabbing your wrists and yanking them around his neck as he angled up into you, harder still. You cried out in anguished ecstasy, confused at the unbidden sensations tingling throughout your being.

“M-m-more…” you began to mumble incoherently, no longer concerned with the loss of control, and only focused on your pleasure and nothing else.

Javi tipped you forward violently, re-situating himself in a seated position, and then abruptly pulled you back onto his lap, pistoning up into you at the most  delectable angle. Your entire body seized up in a pre-orgasmic throb. He gripped you tightly, calloused fingers palming your breasts, kneading and pinching as all thought left your mind completely. You were a ray of light, pleasure itself, his heat sheathed inside you, piercing the darkness and eradicating everything else. You’re not even sure if you spoke out loud, but the primal awareness that you were cumming, clouded time itself, until there was no denying it anymore. You threw your head back against his shoulder and cried in a silent scream, softening into a guttural moan of euphoria. Your body was fluid, liquid gold, dripping and melting over his hard figure. He worked you through your release until you pulled at the nape of his neck, weak with overstimulation. He drew his palm down the front of your salt soaked body and then flipped you around in a tangle of arms and legs, nearly collapsing on top of you, lowering you to the bed.

In the dull recesses of your mind you felt the throb of embarrassment, but not yet cognizant enough to grasp it with any enthusiasm. Holding onto your cloud of your contentment, you were vaguely aware of Javi’s absence, assuming he had left the appropriate amount of money on the bed stand and made a quick exit. You felt your heat twitching and throbbing with the loss of his presence, but thankful he had left you to your own mortification. It had been so long since you felt comfortable enough to enjoy yourself with someone else, you were nearly shocked it was still possible. You swallowed dryly, blinking away the tears. Damn endorphins, you sniffled, freezing as a figure appeared in the doorway with a washcloth and water.

“Drink, hermosa” he commanded as your eyes widened to saucer shape. He was still here. Was he angry? Did you just lose your best customer, and this was the swan song? Appraising your silence he brought the glass of water up to your parched lips tentatively, eyeing you with slight concern. You started shivering slightly as your body attempted to regulate itself into normalcy. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, sitting on the edge of the bed and lifting you to a seated position so you could drink.

You shook your head slowly, devoid of intelligence as the tears began to dry on your cheeks stickily. You flinched with surprise as he began rubbing down your legs and mid-section with the washcloth. “Shh, shh…” he shushed, as though coddling a small child as your body relaxed with relief and exhaustion.

“You don’t have to do that, Javi” you muttered softly, grabbing his wrist gently, but as yet unable to meet his eyes.

“Porque, eso cuesta mas?” he pondered, a small smirk shadowing his countenance.

“I’m not charging you for tonight” you murmured, turning your head away from him in defeat, until you felt him reach around and draw your chin back towards him.

He drew his thumb across your lower lip, not saying a word, a pained expression pinching at his eyebrows unexpectedly. “Inestimable” he whispered, almost to himself, kissing you lightly on the lips and withdrawing to the bathroom. You sunk down on the bed, unsure of what might happen next. Your ears were still ringing from the high, and your body felt like a heavy weight drawing you further into the mattress. You heard the soft click as Javier shut off the lights and crawled into bed with you tentatively.

“Puedo quedarme un poco mas?” he paused, his body hovering above yours.

You bit your lower lip in the dark, pondering the uncharted territory. No one ever asked to stay. Should you charge for that? Your thoughts were becoming more muddled and your eyelids heavier still, as you wordlessly tucked your body into the crook of his side, huffing a small sigh of defeat. No more thinking. Just sleeping. Javi wrapped his arms around you, breathing deeply at the crown of your forehead. 

“Smell good” he mumbled into your hair, as you started to drift into darkened oblivion. He was rocking you ever so slightly, and you didn’t have the energy to make any arguments whatsoever. You hadn’t felt this content in a very long time.

Swallowing dryly, your eyes blinked into the sunlight, hearing the motorcycles putter to life in the streets, and the vendors selling Cafe Caribe for the morning commuters. You sat up abruptly, reaching sideways to feel the cool sheets under your fingertips, noticing the hundred dollar bill grinning at you from the bed side table. Next to it, you saw the small cardboard cup, steaming with the chocolate aroma of your morning cafecito, note scribbled hastily across it…

“Thanks for the f@ck, hermosa. See you next week”. The small heart drawn in the corner winked at you as you smiled to yourself.

You loved your job.

*thanks @samspenandsword for the dividers!