🎶 Name Song Game 🎶

Moody Pena

I've been having so much fun with mood boards, I hope writers can utilize them for inspiration! Appropriately titled, one of my favorite authors is @jolapeno and I've saved a billion of their fics for late night sexy literature. I hope you will check some of them out and stay tuned for our next installment of New York, New York. Pedge finds himself auditioning for "Narcos" in the Big Apple and needs YOUR help...

Make Me Like the Holidays Soft Joel The Day Frankie Came Home Can You Ever Really Know? I Like the Way You... It's the Sniffles Late Night Texts Do Me Yourself Unwrap Me Now Don't Move Honey Just Thinking... Fifteen Hundred and One There's Nothing Blue About You

Disability Visibility

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book and @romanarose for the Disability Visibility Prompt, if anyone would like to participate. At least for me, the anchor point I connect with on this front revolves around chronic illness. My father has a mental illness, and I'm going through another round of doctor visits and procedures that I don't want. But somehow I feel like Ezra gets it. I haven't written for this character yet because his syntax is so Shakespearean, so I thought I'd pair it with one of my favorite, perhaps applicable, sonnets for anyone who needs it...

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, (Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Let us continue to look on Love, which is boundless.

Hallo-Weenie Pedge

I think y'all were inspired by this SAG Awards classic look and voted for Pirate Pedge! Pedge and I managed to write a quick limerick for anyone feeling saucy. I hope your Halloween yields excellent booty. Aarrrrrrgh!

Triggers: smut abounds plentifully...

*thank you @saradika-graphics for the cool dividers!

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

Intoxicated

As we continue our therapeutic series, please proceed with caution. This blurb is not written to romanticize the disease of alcoholism, but to speak to concepts of control, intimacy and consent.

Triggers: alcohol, mostly fluff, implied smut, loss of control, intoxication, hmmm...maybe infantilism, if you squint...

Weeeeeeeee! You were drunk. Drunkity, drunk, drunk, drunk, druuuuuunk. You were flying high. Buzzing, floating, tipsying, trip-sying…Literally so, as Pedge grasped you around the waist, fumbling with the keys as your head lolled onto his shoulder.

“I feel goooooood…” you smiled into his neck.

“Gooood, pobrecita. Let’s get you some water and get you to bed so you can feel even better…”

“Bed…We've shared a bed…I like sleeping. We share sleeping too.”

“Mmmmhmmm…” he hummed, finally jarring the door opening and practically carrying you over the threshold.

“You’re so pretty…” you mumbled, as he awkwardly fumbled for the lights, propping you up against the wall and attempting to shut the door. “I’m pretty?” he questioned, grinning dolefully and placing a hand across your forehead, checking your temperature. “Are you hot? Do you want a shower first?”

“Yourrrr hawt…” you drawled, placing your hands on his stomach and jamming your fingers into the waistband of his jeans. He grabbed you around the waist again before you fell over, and started walking backwards towards the bedroom. “Is my little girl feeling frisky?” he pecked at your lips, innocently, attempting to maneuver you down the hallway.

“Frisky!” you repeated, immediately shutting your eyes as the room spun sideways AND backwards. You missed a few moments, finding yourself now prostrate on the bed as Pedge removed your shoes carefully, massaging your calves.

“Druuuuunk!” you sang out, accidentally kicking him in the face.

“Ouch!” he grabbed his jaw, rubbing carefully and grabbing your other foot before it connected with his chest. You were a lightweight, to be sure, generally only getting drunk…actually, he wasn’t sure if he’d EVER seen you this drunk. There was an industry event and you were coming straight from work having missed every meal, except a stale granola bar. Needless to say, the open bar had originally seemed like a good idea, but he wanted to make sure you didn’t regret it in the morning. He had other plans for the morning BUT he wasn’t sure about your preferences during intoxicated sexy time so he was playing it safe. But damn if you weren’t making this decision challenging.

“Are you mad at me?” you shifted gears dramatically, propping yourself up on your elbows, haphazardly rubbing your eyelids and smearing your mascara sideways.

“What? No! Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know….hashtagdrunk” you pouted, swallowing dryly.

“I’m mad that I let you get dehydrated and had to spend most of that event talking with people I didn’t know, rather than dancing with you…” he admitted, grabbing your hands and pulling you forward gently.

You slumped against his chest as he pulled down the zipper at the back of your dress.

“You smell nice” you slurred, sucking on his shoulder blade, through his dress shirt. He rubbed small circles against your back, breathing deeply and pulling the shoulders of the dress down to your waist. You leaned back, your bare breasts on display for him as he held the back of your neck, lowering you back on the bed.

“Do I smell nice?” you batted your eyelashes seductively, looking up into his countenance.

“Ay Dios mio, yes” he chuckled, kissing you lightly on the lips and pulling your dress off the rest of the way. He hung it lightly on the bedside chair and returned to find you dangling your feet off the side of the bed.

“Are you planning on kicking me again, or can I get you some Advil first?”

Your hands balled up in fists beside you, “SEEE! You’re mad at meeeee!” you whined, beginning to tear up.

“Okay, okay, shhhh” he lowered his weight on top of you, stroking your hair and tucking it behind your ears. “I’m not mad. I’m dehydrated. I’M thirsty. Aren’t you thirsty?”

“Drinks!” you piped up, nearly kneeing him in the crotch.

“Ah!” he grabbed your leg deftly, sliding his hand up to your ass and giving a little spank. “Caught ya that time, Ali!” he planted a small kiss on your nose.

As though transported by magic, you opened your eyes to find him vanished, immediately complaining, “Where’d you goooo? I’m lonely.”

“I know, pobrecita, I’m finding the Advil!” his voice drifted in from the bathroom as he rummaged around the medicine cabinet, drawing a glass of water.

“I’m cold!” you shivered, covering yourself with your arms and curling up into a ball.

“Shit, sorry baby…” he came back in with the Advil and water and immediately started wrapping you in the comforter.

“I’m a burrito!” you joked, scrunching your face like a small child.

“My breakfast burrito…” he teased, kissing your face and neck and forehead, and scooping you up into an embrace.

“Where’s my drink?” you confusedly pouted, unsure of…most things at this point.

“Here at Casa de Pedro we offer bedside service, please be sure to tip your waiter at your earliest convenience…” he reached over for the water and medicine. “Drink, please”.

“Bossy staff…” you managed to retort before gratefully accepting and closing your eyes contentedly. He sat back against the headboard, rocking you slightly and humming to himself for a while.

“Am I floating?” you mumbled, into his chest, grabbing at this dress shirt.

“Yes, pobrecita, we are on a cloud. We are hydrated and sleepy, very sleepy.”

“Yeah, we’re drinky…” you agreed. “BUT…that means we’re a rain cloud…and have to pee….”

“Okay” he chuckled, groaning slightly with the weight of both your bodies. Rising from a sitting position and dropping the comforter he carried you like a sack of potatoes into the bathroom. “But after this, we’re going to bed…”

“Bed!” you exclaimed eyes closed, “floating” into the restroom. He tried to set you down gently on the toilet, but you were having difficulty balancing yourself. He braced your chest with his forearm and reached over for the wet wipes. 

“You’re gonna kill me if I let you go to bed without removing that eye make-up” he said, nearly to himself.

“It’sssss raining!” you droned, finally able to relieve yourself and resting both hands on his broad shoulders, swaying a little with the effort.

“Mmmhmmm…” he murmured, pursing his lips and concentrating on cleaning your face delicately. “Is that better?”

You smiled with affection, opening your eyes dopily. But now the rain cloud started tearing up again, lips wobbling and cascading into a full on ugly cry.

“What happened?” he questioned, amusedly concerned at the shifting waters of emotion he found himself happily wading into. He stroked your face, wiping the fat, salty tears that were running every which way.

“I’m not a rain cloud. I’m ruining everythinggggg…” you whined, dropping your head on his shoulder and sobbing quietly.

“You’re not ruining anything” he comforted, rubbing your back and eventually pulling you to a standing position, steadying you as much as possible.

“But I’m a drunk rain cloud!” you cried, hiccuping slightly and collapsing your weight into his hips.

“Yes, but you’re MY drunk rain cloud” he twinkled, kissing you on the forehead.

“I am?” you muttered, now finding yourself back on the bed, unsure of how you arrived there.

“Arms up!” he encouraged, caressing the sides of your torso in an upward motion and dropping one of his large, Lakers shirts over your head. Disastrously, you tried to assist the dressing process as he wrangled you into sleepwear. Needless to say, there was a lot of giggling, hiccuping and sniffling in this endeavor, before you found yourself lying against his chest, fully ensconced in bed and floating towards happy oblivion.

“Mmmm, floaty cloud…” you droned, pulling his face towards you in a tender kiss.

“Good night, pobrecita” he smiled into your mouth, gripping you around the waist.

“Yes, good night both of us” you sloppily reached down to grab his crotch, with abandon, but noticing him stiffen in more ways than one. He wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling back, slightly. “No, pobrecita, time for sleeping” he encouraged.

“Nooooo!” you whined, pushing your breasts up against his torso and bouncing haphazardly.

“Excuse me” he doubled down, grasping your hands in front of you and kissing your mouth softly. “No thank you, rain cloud, I would like to go to sleep”.

You froze, mid bounce, completely overwhelmed with every alcohol fueled emotion that seemed possible. Fear. Guilt. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. Exhaustion. Nausea. But unable to metabolize any of it, you immediately sat up, on overload.

“You don’t want me?” you swayed from side to side, nearly knocking into the headboard.

“That is most definitely NOT the case” he smirked, grabbing your head before it hit the bedpost and massaging your scalp.

“You’re pretty and I’m not!” you moaned, starting to struggle in his grasp with petulance and scooting backwards. “You don’t want me!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…not true. Please sit still…” 

…but you were having none of it, as adrenaline pumped into your intoxicated system, fueling a small temper tantrum. Losing your grip, you fell backwards out of the bed onto the carpeted floor, pushing yourself into a teetering tower of emotion.

“Careful, hermosa, I take great care of my breakfast burritos, please come back to bed.”

“No” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, stumbling forward and backwards. Pedge took a deep breath, unsure of how to coax a burrito OR a rain cloud back to bed, but doubly sure of its necessity as you confidently staggered in place.

He propped his head up on one hand, gazing at you mischievously. “Okay it’s time for a game.”

You pursed your lips, half-heartedly irritated, “I like games”.

“I know you do, pobrecita” he shifted to the edge of the bed, sitting up. “If you can walk a straight line from the wall to the bed we can continue this conversation horizontally…”

“Oooh!” you clapped your hands enthusiastically, rushing over to the wall, bumping into several items en route. Strangely enough, you found Pedge waiting for you, arms outstretched.

“Wow! Yourrrrr really fast, you already won the first game…” you pouted, collapsing slightly into his embrace.

“Well, I like games too” he grinned, holding you in a soft hug. “For this game, we’re gonna count to ten and then start walking, okay?”

You sleepily nodded your head into his chest, “Okay, m’ready…”

“1…2….3….4….7, 6, 5…2…”

You sighed heavily, blinking your eyes rapidly in confusion. “Those numbers are funny…you’re doing it wrong…” you complained, beginning to drift again.

“I am? Well, you’re distracting me, hermosa. Okay I better start over…1…2…3…4….3….”

Not only were your eyelids getting heavier, your whole body felt like a ton of bricks as you felt him swaying you side to side, inching towards the bed.

“M’floating straight, right?” you blearily asked, legs buckling slightly beneath you.

“Oh yes, you are definitely winning this game” he cupped his hands under your ass, carrying you back to bed “but now I’ve lost count so I have to start over again…1…2…3…3.5…”.

“I like this game” you sighed, pecking at his neck with whatever energy you had left.

“I like YOU” he whispered in your ear, tucking you back into bed with a small kiss.

“I don’t have any arms” you observed, content to keep your eyes shut, but furrowing your brow in consternation.

“Rain clouds don’t need any arms, hermosa” you felt the mattress dip beneath you as he settled in for the night beside you, pulling your torso against his chest. Not five seconds transpired before you immediately burst into tears again.

“I’m sorrrryyyyyyyyy” you wailed, suddenly embarrassed and guilty that you had been so needy. AND that you had apparently lost the game.

You heard some soft tittering behind you, and kisses at the nape of your neck. “Pobrecita, please try to be a little nicer to yourself. If I have to keep attending this many events with an open bar and an empty stomach we’re BOTH gonna need some help.”

“Ammmm…M’I…stilllll….your…break (hiccup) fast….burrrrito?” you huffed, starting to hyperventilate.

“If you feel up to it, I have BIG plans for breakfast tomorrow and they most assuredly involve eating you.”

You stopped abruptly, hiccuping into your pillow. 

“That’s your reward for winning the game” he smiled, gripping you tightly around the waist.

“I won?” you smirked, starting to drift into a heavy sleep.

“My plans for your morning wake-up involve a win for both of us…” he teased “Are you ready for the next game?”

“Mmmhhmmmm” you intoned, floating into a hazy dream.

“The first one to fall asleep wins in 5…4….3…2….”.

Pedro-Tober #3

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

Series Masterlist

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

14.) Freebie! IG: @art_faraday

15.) The Materialists: @norththelemon

16.) Whiskey: @alyssamariag

17.) Arm Sling: IG: @amakuni_s

18.) Oberyn Martell: IG: @vanessadraws

19.) SDCC: IG @vanessadraws

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

Pedge's Bookshop Series Masterlist

Foyer: There are already so many great AU fics featuring all our favorite Pedro Boys and I'd like to showcase them! In the Coffee Shop Foyer you'll find some great rec's for coffee and books alike. Bring your library card--this if one of my favorite tropes!

Bookshop: We started this series with Joel as our bookshop owner. Reading several of Pedro Pascal's book recommendations, the bookshop continues to get more material; join in on the fun!

Crime and Punishment (with Joel Miller)

Crime and Punishment; Prologue Crime and Punishment; The Murder Crime and Punishment; The Family Crime and Punishment; The Argument Crime and Punishment; The Lecture Crime and Punishment; The Visitor Crime and Punishment; The Dinner Crime and Punishment; The Calm Crime and Punishments; Before Crime and Punishment; The Storm Crime and Punishment; The Patrol Crime and Punishment; The Wound Crime and Punishment; The Confession Crime and Punishment; The Epilogue

Novellas:

Crime and Punishment Fic-Let Crime and Punishment; The Dream Crime and Punishment; The Talk Bookstore IG

What Happened to Belen? (with Javier Pena)

Part One Part Two

In Cold Blood (with Tim Rockford)

In Cold Blood: The Exposition In Cold Blood; The Road Trip In Cold Blood; The Funeral

WIP Book Nook: There are so many amazing rec's from Pedro that I'd love to unpack! Here are some possibilities on the horizon. What fics do you want to see?

The Urge; Our History of Addiction w/ Dieter Bravo Franny and Zooey w/ Mr. Ben The Gender of Sound w/ Pedge Drive Your Plow...w/ Tim Rockford

Audible Original; The Reservoir

Ghost Radio

Moody Thespian

As a theater professional, some of my favorite interviews with Pedro Pascal are when he talks about early performance opportunities, theatrical inspiration and the craft. I'm sure you've heard them, but be sure to revisit:

Talk Art Screen Actors Guild Talk Easy Podcast

We could obviously listen to his voice all day, but it reminds me why I'm passionate about the arts in the first place, and how much inspiration is readily available...if you're looking for it.

Pedro Boys

Pedge and I have FINALLY started writing fics for the Pedro Boys and we wanted to have a spot where they could all catch up! Check out the masterlist below!

Pedro Pascal Pedge Cuddle Couch New York, New York Series Baby's Beats (short) Javi Gutierrez Afterglow: Phoenix Rising Marcus Pike Charcuterie Challenge A Different Happy Ending Pike's Place Pike's Playlist (short)

Frankie Morales Moody Frankie Frankie's Favorites (short) Joel Miller Moody Joel Peach and Apple Pie Crime and Punishment Joel's Jives (short) Max Phillips Blood Sucking Witch Max's Mix (short) Javier Pena Afterglow Series Pena's Playlist (short) Dieter Bravo Yes Chef! My Darling Muse Dieter's Deets (short) Marcus Moreno Thanksgiving Delights Din Djarin Unmasked Platonic Love

A Sense of Pride

Hey beautiessss! I wanted to write something specifically for pride, entirely self indulgent, and based in my own limited experience. If this doesn't describe you, it doesn't describe you! But hopefully it speaks to inclusion, positivity and self love, in all it's forms!

Triggers: nothing big! a little self doubt, little profanity, mostly fluff a little implied smut, fictional exploration of orientation with our Therapist Pedge and loving support of the LGBTQIA+ community, I've also tried to write w/o gender pronouns so Therapist Pedge can love on us all...

“I brought Thai foooood!” Pedge sang out from the doorway of your apartment, balancing several bags and books precariously in his arms and dumping them unceremoniously on the ground.

“K” a voice responded from the living room.

Silence.

“Alright, not the tone of enthusiasm I was expecting…” Pedge rounded the corner to find the top of your head hovering behind your computer screen and assorted merchandise strewn haphazardly around the room.

“Whoaaaa…babe. Are we hosting the Pride Parade this year in the living room, cause we’re gonna need a bigger boat…” P grinned broadly, hanging a rainbow flag around his neck, and draping his arms around your shoulders.

You quickly slammed the laptop shut, looking around the room, slightly chagrined. “I may have gone a little overboard at Walmart while you were gone” you blushed.

“I mean, I’m LOVING the new decor” he nodded in approval “though, a little surprised! Feeling all the ally feelings? Are you a Leprechaun and you didn’t tell me?”

Silence.

“Tell me about your meetings” you stalled, setting the laptop quickly on the coffee table.

He took a heavy breath, plopping down on the couch and shaking his head. “I don’t understand why we have to take these meetings in person, in the digital age. The 405 is ALWAYS a disaster area. I ran out of Nicorette on the drive home…”

“I’m ace” you interrupted, holding your breath in anticipation “maybe?” Pedge sat, unmoving, un-reactive. Apparently, non-plussed at your blunt admission.

“Does that mean…I should have gotten vegetarian, instead?” he asked, with tremendous gravitas.

Your eyebrows shot up with irritation. “I’m not joking, P! I’m fucking BROKEN!” you wailed, lightly slapping him on the chest, and starting to unravel. 

“OW!” he pouted, grabbing your hand and rubbing it over his chest in faux reproof. “You’re not broken! What are you talking about? Ace is the place with the helpful hardware folks!” he chastised, massaging your hand and smirking. “I don’t understand, but I’m curious. Bi-curious. Is this a new revelation…in the last couple hours?”

“No! I don’t know. I mean, you know…I’ve talked to you about…my background…and my…preferences…and I was looking up terms online…And then I got confused…” you trailed off, unsure of what you were trying to say.

“Honey, are you interested in less…touching? Or…maybe…not into sex…or…not into, ME?” he set your hand down in your lap with genuine interest, but trying to grab ahold of the very loose thread of understanding.

“Noooo!” you mewled, hugging him firmly around the waist and knocking the breath out of him. You grabbed him by the face, smashing your lips into his, sharing a long kiss. After a few minutes you both came up for air, you, lightly drawing your fingers through his hair and sniffling slightly.

“I gotta say, based on what I know about being ace, this doesn’t seem very on brand” he teased, with eyes closed.

You bit your lower lip in confusion, exploding in a cascade of confusing language, 

“Iwaswatchingthetelevisionshowsexeducation. Andtheyweretalkingaboutasexualityandsomeofitkindofappliedtome.ButyouknowILOVEsexthoughsometimesIfeelmorecomfortableenjoyingitalone.ButIdontwanttoBEaloneIjustdontalwaysfeellikebeingphysicalintimate. ButIthinkaboutemotionalandspiritualintimacyallthetime. AndeverybodyelsehasmoresexualpartnersthanIdoandImnotbigongenitalia. ButIdontwantyoutothinkIdontloveyou. AnddoesthismeanImandrogynous?  Thosecanthardlybethesamethings. Idontreallylikewatchingporn. AndIdontunderstandwhyImsojudgementalaboutthis? IthoughtIwasanopenmindedperson.ButmaybetheressomethingwrongwithmeandImruiningusandIllneverbehappy!”

“Okay, there’s a lot of interesting ideas to unpack there” he paused. “Did you just use the word, genitalia?”

Silence.

You both burst into uncontrollable laughter as he stroked your upper thigh hesitantly. After a few minutes, everything settled down as he sat back, gazing at you appraisingly.

“What?” you huffed, annoyed at your own theatrics and noticing the small rumble in your stomach.

“Babe…I like being with YOU. I like touching you, I like laughing with you. I like eating with you. And if you’re still okay with it…I like…eating…you” he lovingly pinched at your knee as you started giggling. “I’m excited to unpack whatever these discoveries are. And there’s nothing wrong with you or broken about anything you’re feeling. You’re just human, and humans have all different kinds of preferences. That Kinsey guy said everything is on a spectrum.”

You nodded silently, attempting to take everything in. “I was reading that some peeps don’t even think asexuality is a thing. Like I don’t even belong in ANY community…”

“I mean you know I don’t like using a lot of labels. I think sexuality is a pretty fluid thing. I’ve had lots of incredible…interactions with people over the years. Do you think I’M broken?”

“No, that’s one of the things I like BEST about you!” you blurted out. “You’re open-hearted! Sometimes I feel so closed off. How can I still be so confused?” you complained, throwing your hands up in the air.

He smiled, fingering your chin lightly. “Sex isn’t the price we pay for intimacy. Or love. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. I want to know you, that’s all.”

“Me too” you grinned, caressing his face.

Silence.

“Somebody said something about Thai?” you whispered, rubbing your legs together excitedly.

“I don’t think asexuals are allowed to eat Thai Food” he shook his head disapprovingly before you leapt onto his lap. “I read that on Google” he teased, pinching your stomach.

“So, like…if you’re bi…and I’m ace…together…we could be…bi-ased” you scrunched your nose at the disastrous attempt.

“Ewwwww” he laughed. “Race you to the Thai…”

Mustafa's New Anthology

Thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! Pedge and I think we have rounded the corner with our health challenges, but are unsure. Thinking about cancelling my upcoming round of specialists, if my body has found a happy homeostasis. Looking forward to reading the anthology this evening and have included PP's contribution below....Absolutely enthralled...

I see you late bloomer smoking just after sunrise for the first time. Wearing pants and buying pillows dropping cash then leaving them lonely in a stranger's closet. Mushroom lamp says, "What the fuck? Lemme outta here". I explain to her that first I have to go back and back and back again until I understand that I will always be in love with those footprints "Fine". People smoke here because they like me. See me sitting near the bird shit making things up that never happened. But they're cool with it. Someone tells me she was kidnapped by a man who held a knife to her neck because her sister always picks the wrong men. I tell her I was a very late bed wetter. All the other talk happens alone, never into a mirror and never to you. But to objects caught off guard by my hostility, by the shape of this grief. Eleven months and only this: I am struck by the lightning of your presence now that you are gone.

*original GQ shoot

*the Arabic references the section about wearing pants and purchasing piillows

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