Pedro Pascal - Blog Posts

Pedro, Painter, Poet

Gosh, I don't know what happened. With all "The Uninvited" and "Gladiator 2" buzz, I wanted some special alone time with Marcus Moreno. Check out my recent fic, and I hope everyone has a glorious Thanksgiving! This boy gives us so much to be grateful for!

Ode to Gratitude by Pablo Neruda

Thanks to the word that gives thanks. Thanks to the gratitude for how excellently the word melts snow or iron. The planet seemed full of threats until soft as a translucent feather, or sweet as a sugary petal, from lip to lip, it passed, thank you, magnificent, filling the mouth, or whispered, hardly voiced, and the soul became human again, not a window, some clear shine penetrated the forest: it was possible again to sing beneath the leaves. Gratitude, you are medicine opposing scorn’s bitter oxides, light melting the cruel altar. Perhaps you are also the carpet uniting the most distant men, passengers spread out through nature and the jungle of unknown men, merci, as the delirious train penetrates a new country, eradicating frontiers, spasibo, joined with the sharp-cusped volcanoes, frost and fire, thanks, yes, gracias, and the earth turns into a table, a single word swept it clean, plates and cups glisten, forks jingle, and the flatlands seem like tablecloths. Thanks, gracias, you travel and return, you rise and descend. It is understood, you don’t permeate everything, but where the word of thanksgiving appears like a tiny petal, proud fists hide and a penny’s worth of a smile appears.

*transcribed for background in English/Spanish

*thanks @thecutestgrotto for the cool dividers!

Final Family Dinner!

This has been a glorious Thanksgiving Season, punctuated by "The Uninvited", "Gladiator 2" and PEDRO PASCAL! We have MUCH to be grateful for! Enjoy your snacks for our final Pedro's Holiday Feast, and don't forget to drop by our past dinners if you want seconds! Smut abounds, so minors, stay at the kids table please....

Appetizer

@dornish-queen has done it again!

Entree

"Thanksgiving Delights" @pedges-world

Charcuterie Board

"Pedro Lisa and the Turkey" @dornish-queen

Dessert

"Peach and Apple Pie" @pedges-world

Amuse Bouche

@pedges-world

Thanks to everyone who participated this season! I hope, whatever you are doing for the holidays, it involves as much gratitude and smut as possible. Pedge loves you! And so do I :)

*thanks @bernardsbendystraws for the cool dividers!

Thanksgiving Delights

This is part of our Pedro's Holiday Feast Celebration! Join us for a final Family Dinner this Sunday and stay tuned for the Thanksgiving Day Reveal of "Pike's Place; Love Actually"!

Triggers: I wanted to explore the praise kink for Thanksgiving, midst a Moreno marriage, post tryptophane haze. Smut, praise kink, marital bliss, hiding from the kiddos, oral f receiving, P in V committed relationship, profanity...food? I think that covers it...May we all continue to be grateful...

Closing your eyes in exhaustion you sank down on the mattress of the master bedroom, dangling your feet over the edge. Thank God. Thanksgiving was DONE. You sighed with relief, hearing the echoing shouts of your small family, starting the annual video game marathon tradition and allowing you a small respite.

You smiled with acknowledgement, assured that Marcus would have already put away the leftovers and begun the unenviable task of dishwashing, as you had doubled down on the Thanksgiving festivities. There was turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, cranberry sauce, a charcuterie board, apple cider, date nut bread…and a cooling pumpkin pie as an encore. But, rubbing your sore muscles you had to acquiesce, the preparations were getting harder. You loved providing for your small family, and had no extenuating responsibilities, but your mid-life awakening came with an additional set of aches and pains.

Your eyes were still closed, but you heard the familiar baritone of your loving husband echoing down the hallway, “Everybody start without me, your mom and I need a nap….and don’t eat that pumpkin pie till you clear level five, AT LEAST!” he shouted good naturedly, nosing his way into the bedroom you had shared for more than ten years. “Any casualties of war?” he softly intoned, closing the door gently. If your eyes had been opened you might have noticed him surreptitiously locking it, but currently you were floating in a fatigue fueled haze of drowsiness.

“Hmmm…?” you muttered, hopeful that a cuddle session was about to ensue…or at least that the dishes were already done. The mattress dipped under his weight, as he collapsed next to you, his feet nudging yours.

“I’m fullllll” he groaned, resting a hand on your thigh languidly as you rubbed at your eyes tiredly.

“It was good, right?” you knowingly smirked, turning your head to the side and finding him already staring at you. You gazed into his eyes that were crinkling with joy and tryptophane, drawing a finger across his forehead and admiring the wrinkles that had developed over the last several years. If you squinted (as you often needed to now, in your 40’s) you could see a hint of the salt and pepper dotting his beard and fringes of hair. What a fox. How had you gotten so lucky?

“Honey, you outdid yourself this year” he stifled a yawn, moving his hand up your thigh and resting it on your softened tummy, which gurgled in response. You giggled, surprised, curling up into a ball and turning your body towards his.

“What did you like best?” you sparkled, noticing the small hole in the armpit of his gray shirt. You made a mental note to purchase some new undershirts at your next store run.

“I like the chef the best” he teased, his scruffy beard scratching at the crook of your neck as you hummed contentedly.

“Happy Thanksgiving” you whispered, expecting to drift into a happy nap before joining the kiddos in their evening games.

“You know…” Marcus began, interrupting your reverie, “I’ve been feeling particularly….thankful for my wife this holiday season…”. Your eyes flew open in curiosity.

“Oh honey, I’m so grateful for everything you do for me and the kids…and well, everyone. That’s one of the many reasons why I married you…” you drifted off a bit, returning to your sleepy, disjointed mindset.

Marcus cleared his throat tentatively, slowly moving his hand across your midriff and cupping your backside with one hand. Your eyebrows crinkled, unexpectedly aroused, but still tired and now moving your own hand in lazy circles across his back.

“I was…kind of hoping we had time for…dessert…” he sounded a bit bashful with his request, as you responded, “You can’t possible want that pumpkin pie NOW…” you joked, eyes still closed. Marcus swallowed so loudly, you finally understood his intention, cocking one eyebrow quizzically.

“Honeyyyyyy…” you moaned, “I’ve been up since 6am, I’m not sure I have a shred of energy left…even for THAT” you jested, poking him in the stomach with one finger.

“What if…I did all the work?” his eyes were a sea of warmth and love, and you felt yourself getting lost in the magnetism of his pining.

“Is this gonna involve whipped cream, because I’m pretty sure I forgot that on my grocery list this year” you smiled.

“Only if you want it to” he sank down to his knees on the carpet, tugging lightly at the sweat pants you were wearing.

“Baby, you can’t be serious” you sat up on your forearms looking at his puppy dog face that was now resting on your knee, and pouting adorably. “How are you still hungry?”

He shrugged boyishly, a wide grin spreading across his face and tapping at your hips excitedly. You heaved a sigh of happy resignation as he shimmied your sweatpants off seductively, his eyes glistening a deeper shade of black. “Did you lock the door Casanova?” you questioned, enjoying the glazed look sinking into his countenance as he peppered kisses across your knees and up your thighs.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, sweet pea” he mumbled into your upper thigh as your knees unexpectedly clamped around his head.

His hands shot up in the air placatingly, “I surrender!” he muttered, practically encased in your womanhood, as you released your grip immediately.

“Oh my God, we’ve been so busy lately, and the holidays…she’s not…She’s not…manicured. Just come up here and make out with me already. You don’t even have to brush your teeth…” you attempted to deflect, but your husband wasn’t easily dissuaded.

“Don’t care about that” he moaned into your clothed pussy, a thin layer of lace acting as the only barrier between his desires and you.

“Ohhhhh” a sinful moan escaped your lips as you fell back onto the bed. Good God. How long had it been? You were extremely happy in your marriage, but circumstances never really slowed down. Sometimes you worried you weren’t performing your marital duties enough, but Marcus never complained. It was often the last thing on your mind, but not in this moment. In this moment, Marcus was invading EVERY fatigued crack and recess of your mind and body. His tongue flattened and lapped against the material of your underwear creating a mind numbing electricity of friction.

You gasped heatedly, parting your legs for better access and gripping at his hair greedily. “Ohhhhh gawwwwwd” you sighed, every thought fluttering out of your head in relaxed euphoria, as Marcus paused in his ministrations.

You gulped with slight embarrassment, your eyes shooting over to the locked door and hearing your children yelping with excitement and frivolity. Your hand flew up over your head grabbing a pillow and stuffing it to your face. No going back now. This was going to be a Thanksgiving to remember. Marcus dove back in, his hands easily moving your underwear to one side and circling the pointed spear of his tongue around your clit, pulsing forward after every circumference. He was everywhere. He kept shifting directions and then flattening his tongue, licking a devastating stripe from the base of your fourchette up to the tip of your heat until you couldn’t think straight. You were writhing and moaning and began clawing at the pillow, biting into it to dull your sighs of pleasure, but Marcus knew your body like the back of his hand. You really had no chance whatsoever. A primal swirling sensation was whipping you into submission, already tired from the day’s festivities, you could have come on his tongue in a matter of minutes. But then he was pausing and breathing heavily, a welcome respite from the onslaught of passion, somehow leaving you simultaneously relieved and wanting.

“Is it time for the whipped cream?” you asked, a lazy smirk dotting your face, as you tried to get your bearings.

Marcus smiled, the glisten of your arousal coating his lips and beard like a sugar glaze as he hungrily crawled up your body, looking into your eyes.

“Want to see my girl” he rasped, wiping his face on your stomach and biting at your breasts over the comfy t-shirt you were wearing.

“Is that so?” you drawled, his hand cupping the back of your neck and holding the weight of your head against it.

“Want to show how thankful I am, to the mother of my children” he graveled, unzipping his jeans in one motion as you helped pull them down to his knees. “Can’t wait another second…” he pulled his length out, notching it at the tip of your entrance. A shock of electricity bolted through your body as you struggled to keep your hips level. “Want to give you everything you give me” he nearly croaked, sheathing himself in you slowly as your hand flew up to your mouth in restraint. At this rate, the neighbors were going to hear, if you couldn’t control….

“Made for me…pretty girl” he started to unravel, looking into your face and beginning to pump in and out rhythmically. You bit down on the top of your hand, now moving your hips in synchronicity with his.

“I love watching you come apart for me…all mine…just for me” he stated absentmindedly, watching your eyebrows furrow in concentration. “Good girl, good girl…” he repeated his mantra with every thrust, drawing you closer and closer to your release. Wow, wow, wow. Thank God for Thanksgiving. You searched for any thread of control you could find, now gripping at the sheets desperately, and finding none. Good girl. Good girl.

“You’re (I’m) close” you muttered nearly at the same time, your body pulsing and fluttering around him in ecstasy. He grabbed at your backside, drawing your hips up into him and moving faster.

“Are you going to cum for me, now? Are you my good girl?” he growled, your eyes shooting open with surprise. You were. You were going to come for him. The tendrils of your orgasm were already wrapping themselves around your abdomen, and bubbling to the surface. You couldn’t stop. You wouldn’t stop. You wanted more. More. More. More.

Your body lurched a couple times in agonizing climax as your eyes glazed over in enjoyment. Watching Marcus bite at his lower lip, a thin sheen of sweat dotting his forehead as you cascaded in one, two….THREE. The world exploded in a ball of light and love, your mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure. You tried to wriggle out of his steely grasp, but he pumped into you voraciously, not letting up. Blearily wondering how much more ecstasy you could take, you felt his hips stutter and still, as his own release filled you with warmth and contentment. After a few more moments of delight, he collapsed next to you, breathing heavily and wiping at his forehead. You whined happily, somehow satiated AND hungry, turning your body towards his.

“Wowwwwww, baby” you nuzzled into his side, nipping at his earlobe with your mouth, completely blissed out. “That was…wow” you couldn’t articulate anything, just happily buzzing next to your husband and hearing the echoing pandemonium of the living room drift back into your awareness.

“Happy Thanksgiving” he mumbled into your breastbone, a contented and sleepy expression dotting his face as you smiled back.

“Thaaaaaaank youuuuuu” you giggled, pulling his face to yours in a sloppy kiss and sighing into his mouth happily.

“Mmmmm….” he moaned, stroking your back with the tips of his fingers and relaxing against your body. You held each other contentedly for several minutes, flickering between consciousness and a hazy warmth. Finally opening your eyes in gratitude, you found him staring at you fixedly once again.

“This is the life I dreamed of” he whispered, his eyes glistening with tears, drawing a thumb to your mouth in supplication.

“Me too” you smiled softly, pecking gently at his lips and lying back on the bed.

“Time for seconds?” he grinned, placing a hand across your sternum and inching closer.

“Seconds? We haven’t even had the pumpkin pie yet!” you teased, latching a finger at the base of his hole-y undershirt.

“Wasn’t talking about pumpkin pie…” he laughed, burying his face in your stomach as you wrapped your legs around him tightly.

*thanks @bernardsbendystraws for the cool dividers!

Pedro's Holiday Feast Family Dinner #2

Hey folks! Welcome to our second Family Dinner! I can't believe Thanksgiving is next week, but don't forget to keep tagging @pedges-world and #pedrosholidayfeast for all of your yummy treats! Let the feasting continue!

Appetizer

This is my first Thanksgiving on Tumblr, but shoutout to @dornish-queen for this fun Fall Artwork. I personally will forever envision the traditional holiday with this new vibe...

Entree

Check out this fun Fall Mini-Series with a special Thanksgiving Episode by @corazondebeskar-reads!

Dessert

I couldn't help myself, and assembled a special Thanksgiving Mood Board :)

Amuse-Bouche

@dornish-queen Has done it again! Pedge...I think...they're behind you...A little something for the road...

*thanks @bernardsbendystraws for the cool dividers!

In case anyone is still hungry, double back for seconds at our First Family Dinner, and join us next week for a special Thanksgiving Reveal! Happy Feasting!

My Darling Muse; My Darling Dieter

Dieter is in LOVE. He's just not sure if he's met them yet. But in the interim, he's keeping a journal to house all of his inspiration, poetry and recipes, before they fly out of his head. And once he meets the ONE...or ONES...this is going to be his gift to you. Along with those sexy time IOU's he's always handing out. I so enjoyed the writing prompt for "Get Dieter Sober" @bitchesuntitled! D is with you!

Triggers: it's Dieter bub so this series will DEFINITELY include profanity, drugs, alcohol, sex, smut and any meanderings D wants...He's endlessly inspired by art, poetry, songs, sex and YOU!

Doctor's Notes for Journal Entry,

"What would you do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared? After all, shadows are cast by things and people". "But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the one he loves". "Who told you that there is no true, faithful, eternal love in this world! May the liar's vile tongue be cut out!" "Cowardice is the most terrible of vices." *written in the margins: Patient's Name, Dieter Bravo. Addiction: YES. Detox + Psych. Eval. Art Therapy. Narcissist/Low Self-Esteem. Yoga + Kit-Kats.

Dieter has been quoting "The Master and Margarita" as his mantra of choice during his rehab. stay. Here follows our correspondence...

My Darling Dieter,

Oh my honey, I'm sorry the "cinematic narrative of your life is flashing before your eyes". Just a gentle reminder that you have only been in rehab for 24 hours, and I couldn't be more proud of you! Keep up your steady diet of celery juice and Kit-Kats. And yes, I will give you a sponge bath when you get home. Sincerely, J

My Darling Dieter,

The doctors say you are doing well, particularly with your consumption of Kit-Kats! I know this is a difficult time, but I am so proud of you! Everything is on schedule for "Cliff Beasts 7"! You will be appearing as your own clone, in the year 2500 A.D. I hope this news provides some respite. Sincerely, J

My Darling Dieter,

Your reply gave me such joy, though I'm not sure this is a good moment to smuggle in your favorite whiskey. Perhaps I could persuade you with some chocolate chip cookies? I'm glad you are finding comfort in "The Master and (the) Margarita"! But no, I don't think rehab. is a good locale for a coup....Yours, J

My Darling Dieter,

The doctors say you have rounded the corner with your ongoing recovery! I am so excited to attend your upcoming one man show, "Dieter Deconstructed". I'm sure it will be a smash hit at the rehab. center, and yes, maybe we can start developing it as a musical. I'm not sure tap dancing is your forte, but let's talk more...Yours, J

My Darling Dieter,

I am so excited for you to come home and teach me about your new coping skills! I have purchased a nurse's outfit, as per your request and have stocked the fridge with copious amounts of celery juice, Kit-Kats and chocolate chip cookies. The Tik-Tok of you dancing in your hospital gown went viral, as expected....Love, J

*thanks @kodaswrld for the cool dividers!

Hey folks! This is J, Dieter’s PA. This has been an exciting week for all of us, as Dieter checked himself into rehab. after the recent election. He said he was feeling particularly “wibbly-wobbly” and wanted a tune up before starting his next project of “Cliff Beasts 7”. His fellow actor and good friend Pedro Pascal recommended the book “The Urge; Our History of Addiction” and “The Master and Margarita”, which has given D a tremendous sense of hope. While I doubt this is the only time Dieter will need rehab., I can assuredly say it has taken our friendship to a new level. We both feel this is not the opportune moment to pursue an exclusive relationship, but I will happily be giving D sponge baths for the foreseeable future, as part of my PA responsibilities. Dieter is currently snoring contentedly in his sensory deprivation tank, and has requested more chocolate chip cookies for the end of his session, so I better go…Happy healing to all!

The General's Genre

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! I don't know about you but I am NOT ready for the Gladiator 2 premier. Maybe this will get me in the mood for writing all those saucy fics...

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

Pedge's Jukebox

The General's Genre

*General Acacius would not be caught dead singing, even in his youth, but can occasionally be found spurring his men to victory by the glorious retelling of Roman mythology or battles of yore *As the head mistress in Acacius’ household you endeavor to have servants and entertainers ready when the General returns from battle. The welcome is always appreciated, but Acacius almost always dismisses the entire household in favor of sharing a warm bath, a simple meal and relations with you *Occasionally he will allow the court musician to stay, including the lyre which is his favorite instrument. Although he will never admit it, he enjoys making love while listening to the dulcet tones of the lyre lilting in from the outdoor courtyard *While music might not be an instrumental part of his life, rhythm is a huge component of victory on the battlefield. There is a certain musicality to strategy, including the percussive nature of swordplay, rallying cries and the repetitive drumming of the oarsmen *Acacius can tell when his weapons have been polished and maintained to the height of their glory. Swords and other armaments are pitched at a certain purity when untarnished by rust and blood. *When waging war for extended periods of time, the General often composes love sonnets and poetry specifically for your ears. He does not write these down, for fear of capture or manipulation, but commits them to memory in the hopes of seeing you in the near future *When making love, Acacius employs his many talents, sheathing his heat rhythmically into you at a fierce volley. He is attuned to your cries of pleasure and surrender, waiting until the breaking point to fully conquer your body, as per your request. When you return the favor, there is no battle from him whatsoever, having spent his aggressions on the battlefield. He is completely beholden to you, body and soul.

WIP Wednesday...Thursday...Friday

Ooop. Thanks @joelalorian for the tag! I've been having some health problems, and the only thing that would distract my body for a millisecond was my foam roller and Tumblr, so THANK YOU.

Still working Pedge's Jukebox, and hoping to add the General in time for Gladiator 2!

Hoping to "Get Dieter Sober", at least for one week in November! Dieter is understandably dragging his feet, but I know it will do him some good...and J, his PA could use the break.

We're enjoying our little Family Dinners for "Pedro's Holiday Feast"! Two left before Thanksgiving :)

And thinking about joining "Dead Dove December" if I'm feeling dark. I got some ideaology and SH I wanna work out with Frankie, and he's just the boy to help me.

AND NOW FOR SOMESING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT...

"What do you think is the meaning of life?” Pike whispered, closing his eyes and burying himself in the shampooed vanilla fragrances of your hair.

You chuckled in bittersweet acknowledgement, shrugging your shoulders with curiosity. “Is hypothermia starting to set in, Agent Pike?” you halfheartedly questioned, acknowledging the looming possibility in the recesses of your mind. “What do YOU think the meaning of life is?” you felt yourself melting into the moment, fixated on the beautiful features of his face, the candlelight beginning to blur everything around you in a hypnotic haze.

“I don’t know” he stated lowly, licking his lips dryly and admiring the cinnamon freckles dotting the bridge of your nose…and perhaps elsewhere. “None of the artists I work to protect are even alive anymore. But their beauty…” he paused to touch your face delicately, watching your eyelids flutter shut. “…their beauty lives on and on. The things we love. The purpose we give ourselves…Some of it kind of goes on forever and ever, I think. So I guess it’s…love. The meaning of life is love, actually”…

And then you were kissing...

Pike's Place; Episode 6 Love Actually Thanksgiving Day

Pedro's Holiday Feast Family Dinner

Hey folks! Welcome to our first Family Dinner! We're just starting easy with an appetizer, an entree and a yummy dessert. But don't forget to keep tagging @pedges-world and #pedrosholidayfeast for all of your yummy treats!

Appetizer

Our guy is a snack. Enough said.

*thanks Paula and Buzzfeed for this yummy treat!

Entree

You've made a delightful meal for your man, but the changing of the seasons has made you wonder if you've overstayed your welcome.

"Moody Joel" @pedges-world

Dessert

This is a part of a lovely series I invite you to check out! Dinner wouldn't be complete without a little dessert...

"As Easy As Pie" @inept-the-magnificent

*thanks @strangergraphics for the cool dividers!

My Darling Muse vii,

Dieter is in LOVE. He's just not sure if he's met them yet. But in the interim, he's keeping a journal to house all of his inspiration, poetry and recipes, before they fly out of his head. And once he meets the ONE...or ONES...this is going to be his gift to you. Along with those sexy time IOU's he's always handing out...

Trigger: it's Dieter bub so this series will DEFINITELY include profanity, drugs, alcohol, sex, smut and any meanderings D wants...He's endlessly inspired by art, poetry, songs, sex and YOU!

Series Masterlist

My Darling Muse,

I hardly know where I begin, nd where you end They say it pisses Love off, when you ignore Them So I observe You for all eternity I will embody Love for you, Love I, the red of passion, and You the hue of Blue Together we are royalty, we are wine, we are intoxication We are the Purple Haze. we are the Purple Summer We are a sea of irises, the sweet juice of the grape The prism of ultraviolet that is never seen, rather felt You breath me in, I exhale you lazily The fire that never quenches, The addiction that never harms We are the Purple Rain that drenches the drought Baptizing, redeeming, healing, a church of longing In you I form a new self, in you, my color truer still We bleed into each other, giving life; stilling death Written in the Margins: How do Purple Feelings, feel? Purple People Eater--Double Entrendre?

Hey folks! This is J, Dieter's PA. We have had our hands full with the recent debut of Dieter's latest film "Pike's Place". In it, he plays a character named Marcus Pike who is snowed in during a blizzard with his own Muse. Dieter took the time during filming to start reading "The Color Purple", but abandoned it in favor of the recent movie stating, "he wanted to look at more pretty pictures". Either way, Dieter seems to have been deeply impacted by its gravitas and assembled this self-portrait to consider the many ways purple has benefitted his life.

He also assembled the playlist Dieter's Deets to "get him in a purple mood", though I'm unclear what is particularly purple about it. Outside of drinking copious amounts of red wine and indulging in Purple Haze, this seems to be the primary way Dieter continues to passionately make love to....colors.

Filming has been stressful for D during this time, and I've advised him that it might be time to revisit rehab, if for nothing else, than the celery juice. There is a current campaign in the public eye to "Get Dieter Sober" to make sure he is Oscar ready for "Cliff Beasts 7". I personally think this is an excellent opportunity for respite. Though Dieter might never be completely sober, I feel he should at least be more...conscious.

He is currently napping in his silk purple pajamas and listening to "Purple Rain" on repeat...snoring.

*thanks @bernardsbendystraws 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!

The One With Election Day

Sigh. Pedge and I are feeling sad today. We found ourselves in New York during the 2016 Elections, and there are some aspects of today that feel analogous.

Pedro Pascal has been very vocal about his politics, so I will let you research them on your own, but I told Pedge that a lot of us are feeling sad and scared about our country’s future.

What was that Pedge? Do I think Pedro Pascal could use some chocolate chip cookies today? Um. I’m not sure chocolate chip cookies will make EVERYTHING better, but in this moment it couldn't hurt.

If you happened to vote another way, I don’t think this post is for you. I have close friends and family who think differently than I do, and I still love them.

Pedge and I still love you. But we’re allowed to disagree. And I would encourage everyone to have as diverse a community as is possible so you can understand varying viewpoints and backgrounds.

Pedge says he loves enjoying all the colors of the rainbow when it comes to humanity and I couldn’t agree more.

If you are specifically in the LGBTQIA+ community please remember that you are not alone. As a self-described sexy celibate I often don’t feel like I belong anywhere, but as my mom says, “humans were made for one another”, and I believe her.

We were made for each other. Pedge, I don’t think I can hold your hand and type at the same time…Okay, just rest your head on my shoulder, but try not to snot into my t-shirt please. Thank you.

As per Pedro’s IG post, I have several friends at The Trevor Project, and I believe P has volunteered there as well. Please check out their resources if you are feeling lonely, or just need a talk.

Pedge and I will be enjoying our creativity today. We have several projects of gratitude, but Pedge wants me to remind you that thankfulness is never toxic.

It doesn’t operate in opposition to reality, it holds it firmly by the hand and gives it perspective. I exist in Love, regardless of circumstance and I believe that for you as well my darling friends.

Pedge and I encourage lots of snuggle time today, and we might even upgrade from cookies to pie this Thanksgiving season. There is still much to be grateful for like cherry pie, hot coffee, chocolate chip cookies, smut, Pedro Pascal, sweater weather, winter break, silly songs…but most importantly Pedge says he’s most thankful…for YOU.

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!

Silva's Songs

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 Pedge the DJ

Silva's Songs (Spotify)

*Silva can often be found traveling quietly on horseback, singing under his breath and enjoying the beauty of nature *Silva who loves to lay by the light of the fire at night and reminisce on beautiful melodies and poetry *Silva will always pause to listen to Ranchera Singers, ostensibly under the guise of harnessing his horse, or inquiring about local town business *Silva can be found humming and singing more profusely after a few glasses of wine, but is never obnoxious or demonstrative *Silva carries a small pocket journal to notate lines of poetry or song that float through his mind. He didn’t have much time for school in his youth, but has picked up enough reading and writing to get by *Radio didn’t exist until the end of the 18th century, but Silva often enjoys listening to the sound of nighttime crickets, howling coyotes and the soft breathing of his stead, in the evening musicality *Silva isn’t bothered by the sound of a bar room piano, but prefers the lilting sound of a guitar as it is more gentle, quiet and sensual *Silva often fantasizes about tenderly holding his love and humming quietly into their neck until they fall asleep *As a child, Silva was drawn to corridos and would act out some of the well known folk tales with local friends

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

Pedro-Tober #5

Awwww! 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 stylishly decorated hands full. Look at these amazing artists! Thanks for making our month so colorful!

26.) Vanity Fair IG: laurenbdoeslife

27.) The Last of Us IG: craftingwithamyc

28.) Marcus Moreno @alyssamariag

Marcus Pike "Pike's Place", "A Different Happy Ending" @pedges-world

29.) The Uninvited @norththelemon

30.) Fav Awards Fit IG: milkbreaddoodles

31: SAG Awards IG: sewfydoodles

Series Masterlist

My Darling Muse + Pedge's Jukebox

Hey folks! This is J, Dieter's PA. Two dynamic worlds have combined to bring you this Very Special Episode of "My Darling Muse" and Pedge's Jukebox. Just to be safe, I'm going to include triggers from both series and advise you to proceed with caution. Dieter was particularly saucy but told me to leave as is so I don't "sully the purity of artistic expression". Totes.

Dieter is in LOVE. He's just not sure if he's met them yet. But in the interim, he's keeping a journal to house all of his inspiration, poetry and recipes, before they fly out of his head. And once he meets the ONE...or ONES...this is going to be his gift to you. Along with those sexy time IOU's he's always handing out...

Triggers: it's Dieter bub so this series will DEFINITELY include profanity, drugs, alcohol, sex, smut and any meanderings D wants...He's endlessly inspired by art, poetry, songs, sex and YOU!

Music may involve profanity and adult topics, short description of character's interactions with music, smut. All playlists will attempt to utilize music or groups that Pedro Pascal has referenced at some point. Get your headphones and enjoy!

Dieter's Deets (Spotify)

*Dieter always paints with his playlist blaring loudly. He says it summons his mind muses. *Obviously, Dieter can make love in just about any situation imaginable (insert here). He once had a passionate love affair with Cirque de Soleil. In any case, if music is not in the background, Dieter has been known to start singing mid sexcapade. Not well. But with…enthusiasm. *Dieter is a pretty sensitive guy, and has learned through trial and error that music and drugs are a poor combination. Depending on his vice of choice, Dieter can be found enacting the lyrics of his favorite pieces, which was particularly detrimental during his Doja Cat era… *Dieter is not allowed to attend Broadway musicals anymore. He would often go to see friends in aforementioned productions like “The Color Purple” but would start singing along at any opportunity, and was kicked out…several times. *After the nebulous success of “Cliff Beasts 6” Dieter has found new success with his TikTok account. Run by J, his PA, Dieter has posted several tutorials of his well known dance moves, which can also be seen in movie theaters around the world. *Dieter has informed J that he is only allowed to listen to the song “Pedro” by Omar Apollo five times a day, so he doesn’t become too dehydrated from sobbing hysterically. *Dieter has been using his playlist to explore components of his “Divine Feminine and Divine Masculine”. He can either be found in a pink, silk mumu dancing to “Tomboy” by Princess Nokia, or mostly naked in a tool belt and construction hat dancing to “I’m Still Standing” by Elton John. *As is widely known on social media, Dieter got his tentative start in a short, European adult film before transitioning into more cinematic masterpieces. What isn’t widely known is that he was cast not only because of his sexual fluidity, but also because of his monologue. After Dieter performed a dramatic version of “Let’s Talk About Sex”, he was hired on the spot. He was also sleeping with the creative team, but that is inconsequential… *Dieter once auditioned for a musical (before he was permanently banned from Broadway) for the role of the Piglet in the highly anticipated horror flick “Winnie the Pooh and the Hundred Acre WOOD”. After singing his audition cut, the director said Dieter was far too scary. Dieter concurred. *As you know, Dieter launched a controversial digital yoga program after his filming experiences in “Cliff Beasts 6”. His signature moves promise flexibility, increased libido and alleviation of lower back pain, but share little with common, legitimate yoga practices. Exercises are recommended with this playlist and are creatively termed by Dieter as: The Studmuffin, Fuck Position, and Fluttering Vulva.

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

Vote for Pedro!

I've actually been pleasantly surprised how relatively innocuous my feed has been on this point. Looks like we can all agree on one thing; smut. Lol. If only we could all vote for Pedro. But, in a way we can! I personally will be voting Harris/Walz, and you can check Pedge's feed for his political opinions, but one thing I know he would approve is enjoying all of the benefits that democracy and freedom have to offer, and voting is one of them. See you at the polls! #democracyissexy

The Boopage Wars

*thanks @thecutestgrotto for the cool dividers!

Pike's Place Nightmare Before Christmas

Thanks to @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" this dynamic duo is going strong till Christmas Day. I've started a slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent!

Triggers: fainting, nightmares, argument, profanity, reference to alcohol, gun use, emergency scenario, panic attack

Series Masterlist

“What are you doing?!” Pike implored, jumping up from the couch and nearly falling over the coffee table in the process.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you pleaded, wrapping yourself more tightly in an attempt to disappear into the floorboards.

“I know we’ve grown closer over the last few days…but you can’t just…How much Merlot did you have?” he questioned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stumbling slightly in the darkened room. Ella Fitzgerald weirdly kept repeating "I’m not yours, for better or for worse" as the record skipped jovially…

“ImsosorryIwasjusttryingtogetupthecouragetosaysomethingandyoulookedosadorablesleepingIcoulndttellifyouhadfeelingsformeandIvebeensoalonethelastfewyearsIthoughtwereallyhadaconnectionandIwouldneverwanttodoanythingthatmadeyouuncomfortableIveneverbeensoembarassedImsosorry!”

Pike was breathing heavily, running his fingers through his hair, trying to grasp the situation and looking wildly around the room as Ella warbled repetitively from the phonograph.

“What is it you want?” he questioned, pausing as all the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. “Have you been playing me this whole time?”

Your eyes widened to pleading saucers, holding your hands out in supplication, “Marcus, let me explain…”.

“It’s Agent Pike” his eyes darkened slightly as the room became somehow hot and cold simultaneously. This can’t be happening, you thought as a chill ran through your body unexpectedly. This was your worst nightmare becoming a reality. You had finally circumvented your isolation and fear and taken a real risk and it had blown up in your face. Four years of working from home, becoming more and more distant from friends and family, therapy, a pandemic…You looked over at the nearly finished bottle of Merlot. Geez, did you have a drinking problem now, too? Shaking your head to clear the cobwebs you felt the creeping tendrils of a small headache form at the base of your skull. How had everything gone so wrong in a matter of minutes? And what did Marc…what did Agent Pike say about Washington D.C? Your thoughts were flashing wildly across your mind scape but not making any sense. You weren’t drunk, so why was everything so confusing? You looked up at Pike pacing nervously back and forth as the television sent bizarre flickering images across his face and body.

Share for share, share alike You get struck each time I strike You for me- me for me- I'll give you plenty of nothing I'm not yours for better but for worse And I've learned to give the well-known witches' curse I've a terrible tongue, a temper for two And everything I've got belongs to you, you, you, you, you, you, you….

Your breath hitched in your chest as Ella outlandishly skipped over and over again, adding a horrible paranoia to an already uncomfortable moment.

“For heaven sakes!” Pike huffed, yanking the needle off the phonograph and eliciting a bone chilling scratching sound in the speakers. He picked up the record and smashed it across the hearth. The fire crackled ironically, as Pike looked at you as though seeing for the first time. “I think you should leave” he muttered, lowering his eyes to the ground uncomfortably and almost backing into the formerly cheery Christmas Tree behind him. “Now. I need you to leave now.”

“What?” you whispered, gulping with anxiety and beginning to consider the ramifications of his statement. What time was it? Maybe 2am in the morning? You hugged your body to your chest fearfully, balking with incredulity. Pike might not reciprocate your feelings, but he couldn’t possibly be serious. It was officially Christmas Eve, where were you supposed to go in a blizzard? Could you stay in your car till the storm subsided? Maybe you could just promise to stay in the upstairs bedroom till the mechanic arrived…or sleep in the wood shed? A lump immediately formed in your throat as tears sprang to your eyes. This is what you get for believing in yourself, you chided. Pike told you to be the hero of your own story, and now you were going to be more alone than ever.

“Get out. Now!” Pike shouted, grabbing the manilla envelope from under the tree and throwing it in the fire.

“No!” you shuddered, reaching for the envelope helplessly, praying you could somehow salvage the turn of events. You watched the unknown gift crumple into flames, feeling as though your heart were somehow mangled in the smoke. Coughing and sputtering, you stood to your feet, swaying slightly with confusion, feeling an oppressive weight bearing down on you.

“Marcus, I never meant to…” you doubled over in weakness as the room spun around you overwhelmingly.

“Agent! Pike!” he exclaimed, picking up the Christmas Tree and shoveling it into the roaring fireplace. The room was getting hotter and hotter as you fell to the floor gasping for air. The entire cabin was going up in flames. You felt like Ebenezer Scrooge, clawing at your own mortality as Marcus started laughing maniacally…

“Get out of my house!” he cackled, his eyes alight with revenge and terror, seemingly basking in your cries for help.

“Please, please…” you heard yourself crying until…

You sat bolt upright in bed, awakening to the sound of your own voice. Blinking rapidly in the nearly pitch black room you heard the howling wind outdoors. You were covered in sweat and had a pounding headache. Damn Merlot, you reprimanded yourself as the reality of the evening’s events cascaded, unbidden, into your foggy dream-like state. If only THAT had also been a nightmare, but no such miracle occurred. You swallowed a fresh cascade of sobs, desperately wishing you had kept your desires to yourself. But no, you were determined to escape the never-ending isolation of the pandemic, and somehow ended up more alone than ever. Tomorrow, you were leaving, heading into an unknown future. Worse still, you might have lost a real friend in Pike, but what did it matter? Pike was moving to Washington D.C and you had just ruined the only opportunity that had graced your doorstep in a very long time. This was oh so very real. A real nightmare come to life. Your very own “Nightmare Before Christmas”…

Pike stared unblinkingly at the flickering images on the television screen. Perpetually hounded by nightmares for the last several days, he annoyingly found himself unable to sleep, replaying the evening over and over in his mind. He rubbed his forehead placatingly, trying to make sense of the recent complexities. Once again he had repeated the same enthusiastic mistakes, falling head over heels for an idyllic misrepresentation of the truth, and now he’d broken someone else’s heart in the process. He looked towards your upstairs doorway, cold and closed to the harsh winds battling outside. Were you okay? Were you asleep? Were you as unsettled as he was? How could he fix what had been so easily broken? One moment, he held you in his arms, caressing the very gift he had so desperately desired from day one. And the next, you were flying up the stairs in retreat, planning to permanently leave his life before Christmas had even come to fruition.

How had things gone so drastically wrong? First you were strangers. Then, you were circumstantial friends. He didn’t want to treat you like a captive audience. During all those conversations, all those movies, and all those glasses of Merlot, he didn’t want to ruin things the way he had with Lisbon. Even allowing himself to believe that love would find its way to him had felt impossible, so why even mention it? Why mention the move to Washington D.C when that information had only caused harm in the past? Why believe that love had shown up on his doorstep when that door was just going to lead to another dead end?

Pike watched the television as Jack Skellington battled between the two paradigms of Halloween and Christmas, trying to move into a holiday of celebration and joy, whilst somehow taking his own limitations with him. Cynically smirking at the ghoulish figures parading before him, he twitched once again hearing the howling blizzard which had only intensified over the last few hours. The once picturesque landscape had begun to turn, trees clawing loudly at the roof, wind arguing fiercely for dominance. At first a small glimmer of hope had begun to light in his heart. Perhaps he could stall your departure and make an explanation, but what was there to explain? He had come back to tie up loose ends with Lisbon, and after closing that door, had shipped his few belongings to D.C and determined to end the year in solitude. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the holidays would include…you.

And how had he accepted this newfound sense of acceptance and unexpected opportunity? By hiding valuable information and then giving in to his desires without considering the ramifications. He hoisted himself up to grab some more fuel for the fire. The least he could do as a good host was keep his guest warm and try to get you home in one piece before Christmas Day.

The front doorknob rattled ever so slightly as a particularly large gust of wind shook the cabin dauntingly. Pike silently took stock of the resources and reserves that he knew remained in the cabin. Living on the East Coast had given him some inclinations of a real winter, but this was extreme, especially for California. The pipes could freeze, power lines could go down. He was just wondering if he should check the landline in the study, when he caught the telltale overture of trouble. The television started flickering hesitantly along with the lights, until the very mechanism of life itself seemed to grind to a halt, all electricity evaporating into the ether and plunging Pike into immediate darkness. Things just went from bad to worse.

You clutched your chest, hearing the dull thud of your racing heartbeat as blood rushed through your ears. What was that? Somehow the room was even darker than before and you could no longer hear the twinkling sound of the television from the living room. What was going on? You pulled off Pike’s flannel pajamas, nimbly feeling your way to the ubiquitous pink snowsuit.

You hadn’t even waited for an explanation. After the embarrassment of throwing yourself at Pike in a Merlot infused bid for love, his Washington D.C confessional had been the ultimate bruise. For that matter, WHY didn’t Pike mention the Washington D.C move earlier? You bit your lower lip, searching haphazardly for your boots. You’d spent the last few hours tossing and turning over your own missteps, but it takes two to tango. Was he really so oblivious as to think that was an unimportant detail? You found your initial irritation beginning to blaze in the recesses of your regret and guilt. You knew that Pike was too good to be true, but somehow his own contagious enthusiasm had dulled the impenetrability of your emotional armor. You had started believing that love was possible. You hurriedly zipped up the snowsuit, considering your options. You didn’t want to impose on Agent Pike anymore than you had to. Maybe this was a sign to try to bring your old broken down Hyundai to life. Much like you, maybe Bessie still had some kick in her and had just stalled. Pausing to listen a dull thrumming sound clicked into gear and the cabin seemed to pulse with a timid heartbeat once again. You glanced at your dimly lit cell phone by the bedside table. Stuffing your feet into your snow boots you checked the phone’s reception. Dead.

Everything felt like it was disintegrating. You thanked your lucky stars you were with Marc…Agent Marc…Agent Pike, but what if your subconscious was right? Pike would never place you in any harm, but it was clear you had worn out your welcome. You were both going your separate ways, and that was that. Maybe we don’t know each other very well at all, you paused, wondering how you were going to extricate your Californian self from this Snowpocalypse of 2024. You felt like Sally from “The Nightmare Before Christmas”, pining after a love that was never going to come to fruition. Maybe you WERE that wilting version of Donna Reed in a snood, trapped in a reality that never seemed to mirror the deepest of your desires. It was time to face the music and bring this Hallmark Movie to an anticlimactic conclusion. Just another Christmas alone. You took a deep breath, resolving to exit Marcus’ life as quickly as you had entered it. Roll credits.

Pike was rummaging around the supply closet for a flashlight upon hearing the telltale squeak of the upstairs bedroom’s opening door. You squinted as the light hit your gaze unceremoniously, covering your eyes confusedly. “What’s going on?” you slurred a bit, stumbling down the first few steps. Pike lurched forward with a hand outstretched.

“God, be careful!” he raced up the stairs, taking hold of your elbow and easing you down the stairwell. You ended up at the bottom of the stairs, more confused than ever. Were you still drunk? The television twinkled softly amidst the glowing firelight, but the room felt disorienting at best. You rubbed your eyes sleepily, attempting to form some cohesive, dawning thoughts.

“I’m okay, just waking up…” you blinked rapidly, jumping at the scratching sounds above your head and across the nearby windows. “What was that?” you asked in hushed tones, adrenaline pumping through your system like a shot.

“The storm has really picked up since…you went to bed” he cautioned, drawing his arm around your back to steady you. “I think we’re okay, but those trees are a bit closer to the cabin than I’d like. Annnnnd…I think the power lines are down” he trailed off, hoping to keep you relatively calm and safe. “The generator kicked in, but it hasn’t been in use all year. I don’t feel great about our…situation” Pike pondered, always the man of preparation.

Your eyes widened in concern, wondering how long you could last if the storm continued to intensify. “Can we call for help? I don’t have any reception. What should we do next?”.

“I tried the landline in the study, nothing is getting through yet. I’m gonna head out for a bit and check the generator to see its condition” Pike reached for his jacket, but kept his hand around your waist in solidarity. You reached towards him imploringly, freezing slightly at the unexpected revelation.

“Is that a gun?” you whispered, suddenly quivering with more than the cold. You heard the soft smile in Pike’s voice, viewing his flickering countenance in the relative dark.

“I suppose being an agent on the Art Squad isn’t that dangerous, but it IS standard issue. Just taking extra precautions, there could be wildlife that were disturbed by the storm, or other stranded motorists. I’ve got to keep you safe. I mean, keep everybody safe…” he was rubbing your back in circles as you swayed from side to side. You were feeling overwhelmed, off-kilter, and vulnerable. What kind of assistance could you possibly be in a challenging situation like this? You swallowed dryly, attempting to focus on the firelight and form a cohesive thought.

“Wait, what? Heading outside? Now?!” you began to panic slightly, grabbing at Pike’s forearm. “I don’t want to be by myself! What if we can’t contact anyone? What if you get lost in the blizzard?” your mind began to race with possibility as you felt your throat tightening with emotion. Not alone. Not again. The pandemic came racing back with all of its isolation and feelings of helplessness. Pike paused, considering the options.

“Okay, just stay behind me and don’t let go of my hand, alright?” he grasped your shoulder good-naturedly, drawing his hand up to cup your face and finding a few stray tears. “Hey, what’s this?” he drew you into his body for a close embrace, allowing you to sniffle into his chest timidly. “We’re okay” he swayed with you from side to side, rubbing your back and holding you at the neck comfortingly.

“I’m just…so sorry…for earlier” you mumbled into his chest, feeling your fatigue catching up with you. Pike pulled back, his intentionality apparent even in the void like expanse of these challenging circumstances. The fire flickered dimly in the corner adding a serene warmth to the soft smile on his face. He sighed heavily, wiping his thumb in a circular motion across your cheek tenderly. “There’s…more to say” he began, until more limbs and twigs were crashing and scraping across the nearby windows. “At this rate, I’m not sure any of us are going to be leaving tomorrow” he gulped, taking your hand in his and heading towards the door. “This Christmas is turning into a nightmare, but I’m getting us to the finish line come hell or high water” he promised, flinging the door open and bracing you both against the moderate winds.

The blast of cold air nearly knocked you over in one fell swoop, as you gripped Pike’s hand with determination. It was as though you had been plunged into a full body ice bath, as the tingling, numbing sensation of the winds whipped through your hair and very being. You had a sudden clarity of purpose and renewed energy. Squinting into the snowy winds, you blearily identified the small wood shed about fifty feet away. The wind had cleared the snow a bit, but stray detritus and tree limbs were strewn around the tundra as Pike pulled you forward ambitiously.

“Let’s go!” he shouted over the din of the intense winds, cutting a path to the woodshed, in search of the enclosed generator. “Be careful!” he advised, gripping you tightly around the waist, attempting to shield you from the blizzard which was steadily increasing by the minute. You pursed your lips doggedly, determined to be of assistance. Looking behind you, you saw Bessie the Hyundai, shivering in the cold, her front windshield had been cracked and indented by a falling tree limb. Somehow seeing her forlorn condition, increased your own, as the two of you hobbled to the nearby woodshed, desperate for a solution. Stumbling to the doorway, Pike flung the door of the woodshed open as billows of smoke came cascading out. You fell backwards in surprise, a hard blanket of snow somewhat cushioning your fall as Pike grasped at your arm securely. “Well, that’s not good!” he shouted, motioning you to stay seated as he waved the billows of smoke helplessly. “No way this is gonna last much longer!” he yelled over the din of blistering maelstrom. “I know it hasn’t been used for ages, but I was at least hoping…” a skittering sound interrupted his query as he reached for his gun quickly.

“Jesus Christ” Pike muttered, dragging you backwards and positioning you along the outside corner of the woodshed. “Stay here” he cautioned before you had a chance to argue. You saw Pike’s athletic silhouette poised on the adjacent corner, gun outstretched protectively. He disappeared from sight as you held your breath hesitantly. The winds were like a steely hand, gripping your insides and swirling with a wintery menace. You sat tentatively, bracing yourself against the wooden fixture.

“Pike?” you called, steadily becoming more and more terrified as the moments lapsed. One. Two. Three…you thought back on your therapeutic training. Take stock of your five senses. What do you see? All I can see is snow. I can’t even see my hand in front of my face, you thought. Four. Five. What do you smell? Coughing slightly, the arid bite of billowy smoke tickled your nasal passages. Six. Seven. What do you feel? I feel scared dammit, you retorted, crying out again. “Pike?”

Only the winds answered you.

What can you touch? You clasped your hands together for warmth, pining after the handhold you’d sacrificed with Pike’s temporary absence. You blew into your cupped hands for warmth. Eight. Nine.…What can you…?

“Holy hell!” Pike yelled as you heard a furious wrestling sound and then a gunshot echo in the howling winds.

“PIKE!!!!????” you screamed, covering your face in fear and tucking your body, wrapping your arms around your knees. Oh my God. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t see anything. You couldn’t feel anything. You were numb. You were nothing. You were completely alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. You rocked back and forth trying to catch your breath. “Pike. Pike. Pike. Pike” you whispered against the howling winds. You couldn’t form a thought, the world was swirling around you confusedly. You weren’t even human. A cry began to mangle at the epicenter of your sternum, radiating into your body as you sobbed hysterically. “Pike. Pike. Pike. Pike”.

Strong arms grasped you at the shoulders, shaking you ever so slightly as your head whipped up to see Marcus’ face pressed close to yours in concern. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear anything. You found yourself strangely disassociated, marveling at the pink in his cheeks and the snowflakes dotting his beautiful eyelashes. Not alone. Together. Pike. You and Pike. You smiled numbly, your head lolling back with exhaustion. Pike was shouting into your face, and you were smiling. Just smiling. What a nice Christmas, you thought bizarrely as Pike pulled you to your feet. You immediately collapsed into his arms as the world circled around in a vortex of cold and ice. What a nice Marcus, you thought haphazardly, feeling yourself caged against his broad chest and floating back towards the cabin. You began to hear the crunch of the snow underneath his feet, and the beating of his heart wildly against his chest. Such a pretty Christmas, you sighed, nuzzling into him for warmth and hearing the door slam behind you both abruptly. Pike laid you down on the couch as you watched him with bleary cheer, tossing more firewood into the hearth and returning to you in one quick motion.

Pike ran his hands fixedly over your entire body, looking for any injuries or wounds, as you grinned dopily, your senses quickly rushing back in arousal.

“Can you sit up?” Pike spoke, as though from another room, as your hearing started to focus on the low tones of his concerned voice.

“What?” you slurred, sitting up hesitantly and swaying with the effort. Pike ran his fingers over your scalp and down your arms, attempting to assess the situation. “Keep breathing, I’m gonna get you some water” Pike placed his hand over your sternum concernedly, quickly disappearing into the kitchen. Your thoughts were still blurry as you wondered at the magical fire crackling before you. At least one thing was aiding your survival, you mused, chewing your bottom lip numbly and placing your head between your legs weakly. You tried to take deep, centering breaths. What was going on?

“Damn!” you heard the shuddering of the pipes from the kitchen and Pike’s muted tones as he returned quickly to the living room, kneeling in front of you. “The pipes are frozen, I think” Pike complained, rubbing his hands over your arms and legs and bringing your gaze up to meet his. “Are you okay? How do you feel?” Pike swallowed dryly, looking intently into your eyes. Without thinking you flung yourself into Pike’s embrace, suddenly cognizant enough to grasp the recent chain of events. He gripped you firmly in a bear hug, swaying you gently from side to side. “Thought I lost you there for a second” he chuckled, rubbing your back warmly.

“Goddamit, Marcus!” you mumbled, pushing against his chest aggressively and falling back to the couch with exhaustion. Pike placed his hands on your knees, furrowing his brow with concern.

“I’m fine” he observed, taking off his jacket and hovering at your knees. “Did you hit your head? Are you cold?” he gazed back at the fire and looked above him as a creaking sound split the night air forebodingly.

“What the hell was that?!” you yelled, sitting up unsurely and gripping the collar of his shirt. “I thought….I thought….I don’t know what I thought!!!!” you acquiesced, gripping your hands tightly around his neck and pulling him towards you. Pike rested his forearms on your thighs, bringing his forehead lightly to yours and breathing for a moment.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere” he rhythmically repeated, willing your breathing to slow, while taking stock of the situation. “It kind of freaked me out, too” he whispered. “I know animals will sometimes seek out shelter in a blizzard, but the timing couldn’t be worse…” the cabin creaked again as though in confirmation. You tried to focus on Marcus’ lips as he spoke. What beautiful lips. You’d never noticed how plush they were. So soft. And kissable. You thought back on the disastrous, if not exciting events of the previous night. Sweet. His lips actually tasted sweet. You licked yours hungrily.

“I think we caught the little guy nibbling at the power cables” Pike paused dragging his hand over your forehead with care. “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” his voice was still echoing strangely as you blinked heavily. He shook his head continuing undauntedly, “I don’t know much about generators, but I’m assuming we don’t want them smoking like a barbecue pit” Pike chuckled nervously as you reached up to delicately finger the snowflakes in his hair. He closed his eyes contentedly, trying to steady himself. “I haven’t been that scared in ages!” he twitched with self deprecation. “I sort of caught ‘Meeko’, unannounced. He sure didn’t take it very well”, Pike sagged with relief as you ran your fingers over his scalp. Awash with confusion and exhaustion you began giggling uncontrollably.

“What? What’s so funny?” Pike grinned, opening his eyes to your tittering frame.

“Meeko?” you snickered with delight, “…like from Pocohontas? Our grand nemesis of the evening was a raccoon?” you stopped abruptly, suddenly a bit sobered. “Oh my God, did you shoot him?” you gulped, unzipping the snowsuit a bit, to defrost.

Pike shrugged comedically. “Contrary to popular belief, the Art Squad is not the Firing Squad” he jested, “I think he scared me more than I scared him. He definitely ran off in to the woods, but we are none the safer” he glanced towards the kitchen in defeat, pausing to strategize.

“Let me think out loud for a second, my mind is swimming” he reasoned, carefully standing and rubbing his forehead tiredly. “The generator is nearly gone, Bessie is officially out of commission. Landlines are down, as is our cell phone reception. We’ve still got some food, which we could chill outdoors if necessary, but the pipes are frozen. I mean, we’re literally surrounded by snow and we could just melt some of it if things get desperate. But who knows how long the generator will last, and this fire is our main source of warmth. I guess we could burn the Christmas Tree if we ran out of fire wood?” Pike heaved a hefty sigh of defeat, looking at the formerly homey symbol of holiday cheer, now figuratively going up in flames. “But at least you’re not going anywhere this Christmas Eve” Pike tried to focus on that silver lining, peering up at the ceiling with apprehension as the winds only increased their fervor.

Your addled mind flashed on your earlier nightmare, wincing at the nearly clairvoyant similarity. It seemed that one minute you couldn’t wait to stay, and now both of you were desperate to somehow find a way out. “Sounds like YOU might be the one who’s leaving me” you pouted, finally willing to confront the REAL nightmare that neither of you had addressed. Pike sighed heavily, casting his eyes to the floor in disappointment.

“Look, about that…” he began as you stood to your feet unsteadily, trying to even the playing field.

“Why in the world didn’t you say so, Agent Pike?” you teetered precariously as the room seemed to shift diagonally, bracing a hand against the couch for assistance. “How could you let me think…or why didn’t you…” realizing that once again you were at a loss for words. Why was it so hard for you to connect the dots? The pandemic had deprived you of human connection, communication…LOVE! Your life felt like it was in shambles, separate and alone, and Pike’s permanent departure was just one more example of that. Even in a blizzard you couldn’t get anyone to stay!

“Agent Pike? Are we using our Christian names now?” Marcus teased, attempting to lighten the mood after the adrenaline infused hijinks.

“Come on, I’m serious! I feel terrible for making assumptions about…you…and me…or us…or Donna Reed…” you trailed off, stumbling around the room slightly trying to assemble your thoughts cohesively.

“Hey, maybe you should sit down” Pike cautioned, extending a hand and beginning to follow you around the room tentatively. “Please, let me explain, I WANT to explain. When you kissed me last night…”…

“This is SO typical of me” you rambled, pacing in circles as the blizzard howled around you outside. “I finally become the hero of my own story and I can’t even land the guy for heaven sakes!” you protested, unzipping your snowsuit a bit further in the warmth of the fireplace. “I have main character energy!” you shouted as Pike nodded affirmatively “MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY!” you repeated, rubbing at your temples confusedly.

“You do!” Pike encouraged, following along behind you like a woebegone puppy, his hand placed gently at your back to ensure you didn’t fall over. “VERY Kate Winslet!” he supported, moving the small side table out of your way so you didn’t trip over it.

“And the moment I take matters into my own hands…” you whirled in place, gripping Pike by the collar and shaking him emphatically, “you slip right from my grasp!” you collapsed your hips against his, looking up into those glowing, chocolate-colored orbs of light.

“I’m here! You’ve got me” he rasped, holding you at the waist and inching his face closer to yours imploringly.

“No I don’t!” you huffed, beginning your pacing again with Pike in tow. “Now you’re headed off to Washington D.C, and our perfect Christmas is RUINED!” you emphasized for greater effect. “I don’t even have a gift for you! And whyyyy didn’t you tell me?” you whined falling back against Pike’s chest dramatically and slumping slightly against him. Pike propped you up by your elbow, gripping you around the waist supportively.

“Will you please sit down? Something feels off….I’m feeling off” Pike was trying to make sense of everything, but it was difficult with this splitting headache. Had the lack of sleep finally caught up with him? He didn’t even have any Merlot last night, why was everything so distorted?

You pushed away from him, swaying haphazardly in confusion. Now there were…TWO Pikes standing in front of you. Oh well, now you could TWICE as mad! The cabin groaned forcefully as the room seemed to lurch forward and back. “You know, I could really like…BOTH of you if you’d just give me a chance!” you tried to point an accusatory finger at the pair of them as Pike’s image blurred before you.

“I want to! I want more! I want YOU but…GEEZ…my head in pounding right now. Do you have a headache, too?” the Pikes curiously questioned, reaching back to steady themselves at the fireplace hearth and pinching the bridge of their noses with fatigue.

“I ought to after this nightmare!” you unzipped your snow suit all the way to your waist revealing your sparkling pink bra and fanning your face heatedly. Why the hell was it always so hot?

A dull cracking sound echoed outside as a heavy branch split through the living room window blasting an icy gale of wind through the epicenter of your conversation. Pike shielded his eyes, staggering towards you, grabbing you by waist and pulling you in.

“Careful Pink! Are you okay?” Pike shouted over the din of chaos, bringing both hands to the sides of your face and looking into the dazed expression that was mirrored back.

“I don’t feel so good…” you mumbled, your knees buckling beneath you, crumpling to the ground as Pike cradled your body to the floor. Shielding you against the wind he drew his fingers lightly across your forehead, trying to clear strands of hair away from your eyes. The two Marcus’ coalesced into one image that flickered before you like a dimming television screen before separating again into mirage like images of apprehension.

“Pink? Pink….?” his voice began to distance itself into the dull recesses of your mind as a high pitched whine moved towards the forefront. You reached up to touch his lips tenderly.

“Merry Christmas…” you droned, feeling your body simultaneously feather light and anvil heavy, wishing you had the strength to kiss him once again.

“Stay with me, Pink…” Pike’s voice vanished into an echoing chasm while your thoughts muted to a single pin prick of enlightenment.

What a beautiful nightmare, you mused…before the entire world went dark.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

Treasure Hunt for Missing Post

Pedge the Pirate and I are on a Halloween Treasure Hunt for a missing post. We remember seeing fics that were catalogued as a VHS Rental Library, including some very fun trailers. Does anyone know where this treasure is?

Also final day to "Trick or Treat"!

Happy Halloween Pirate Pedge!

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

Triggers: smut abounds plentifully in this bizarre Halloween RPF

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

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!

🎶 Name Song Game 🎶

Thanks @wordywarriorwrites for the tag! Pedge and I have been inspired lately with Pedge's Jukebox, and I happen to be a professional musician! BUT most of my participation on Tumblr has been pretty one-sided and doesn't actually include my peripheral passions like musical theater! It's a bit niche, but here is my Username Song Game, J-style. And don't forget to check out my completed RPF "New York, New York Series" that fantastically celebrates my time there...

J's Jams (Spotify)

In case you haven't done it already: @timelordfreya, @inept-the-magnificent, @morallyinept, @sawymredfox, @purpleprincess75

Maxwell's Music

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, this short includes references to death and parental relationship, as per the character's arc in Wonder Woman 1984

Pedge's Jukebox

Maxwell's Music

*Maxwell Lord is all 80’s all the time. He thinks he’s one of the cool kids, but doesn’t realize his…seasoned maturity… *Wakes up at 5am to take a power walk around the neighborhood. Grabs his green juice and pops over to the gym to enjoy the playlist and pump some iron before heading over to work. *On weekends, when he has him, Maxwell Lord is not only determined to teach his son Alistair the important points of business management, but he also imparts the backstory of his favorite bands in an effort to bond…That is, when he remembers… *In the evenings, Maxwell grabs a late night espresso to head to the gym for a repeat visit. He blares the music as loudly as possible and envisions his monetary empire growing exponentially *Doesn’t have time for relationships after the divorce, but will occasionally frequent the local Strip Club for a quickie with his favorite gal “Pussycat” (sexy time with a sexy gal to sexy music) *Absolutely hates silence at the office and around the house. Wants to bombard himself with sound and fury and activity all the time, to avoid thinking about his failures… *During his lunch, will break out his Casio Walkman and allows the music to “pump him up” *Didn’t want to attend his father’s funeral, so he sent money to cover the expense, and then went to work. Didn’t tell anyone about the death but shed a few tears listening to “When Doves Cry”. Promptly decided to never think on it again. *Upon reunion with his son, has vowed to turn over a new leaf and make that relationship his priority. Wonders what his son’s favorite music is, and can’t wait to listen to it…

*thanks @strangergraphics-archive for the cool dividers!

Joel's Jives

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 with literary shorts! 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

Joel's Jives: Spotify

*Joel who only operates on two functions; dead silence or radio music *Joel who can finally relax when good music is playing; mind stilled *Won’t admit to enjoying country music, but secretly does *Often can be found humming under his breath while cooking or stoking the fire, but denies it when you question him *Knows all of the words to “Long, Long Time” by Linda Rondstadt *Only a handful of people know that Joel can play the guitar. You’re one of them. *The only time you get to hear him play the guitar is out on the porch, through the screen door. If you join him outside, he will immediately stop and start asking you about your day *As a teenager would fantasize about touring as a guitarist, always on the road *Doesn’t really like the sound of his own voice, but will sing pockets of phrases to figure out the chords *Was planning on gifting Sarah tickets to “Black-Eyed Peas” until the outbreak occurred *Used to enjoy making love to music, but now it just makes him too sad

*thanks @strangergraphics-archive for the cool dividers!

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....

My Darling Muse (vi),

Dieter is in LOVE. He's just not sure if he's met them yet. But in the interim, he's keeping a journal to house all of his inspiration, poetry and recipes, before they fly out of his head. And once he meets the ONE...or ONES...this is going to be his gift to you. Along with those sexy time IOU's he's always handing out...

Trigger: it's Dieter bub so this series will DEFINITELY include profanity, drugs, alcohol, sex, smut and any meanderings D wants...He's endlessly inspired by art, poetry, songs, sex and YOU!

Series Masterlist

MY DARLING MUSE,

WHO AM I WITHOUT YOU, IN THIS VAST JUNGLE OF EXISTENCE? AM I THE SUPPLE FEMININE, NAKED AND UNAFRAID? AM I THE WILD OF THE UNKNOWN? WATCHING AND WAITING TO POUNCE? AM I HUNTER OR PREY? DO I WATCH OR AM I OBSERVED? DO I LANGUISH IN WAIT? TREMBLING FOR YOUR CAPTIVITY? OR DO I STALK YOU IN THE FOREST OF FOREVER? CAST YOUR NET OVER ME ENTRAP ME WITH YOUR WILES ENSNARE ME WITH YOUR HOOK OF DESIRE SINK YOUR CARNIVOROUS TEETH OF PASSION SUCK THE MARROW DRY CHEW ON THE BONES OF MY YEARNING DEFLOWER ME IN THE FOREST LIKE A LION, RIP MY WILLING HEART TO PIECES FOR I AM AN ENDANGERED SPECIES AND AM ONLY PRESERVED BY THE CAPTURE OF YOUR HEART IMPRISONED AND LIBERATED FOR EVERY ANIMALISTIC LONGING

*listed in the margins: Baby goats; defense in the wild? Do insects mate for life? Which animals are bi? Research Luxury Jungle Retreat, Is Ayahuasca grown locally? Is that couch available at Ikea?

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....

*Rousseau classic with unfortunate additions by Dieter

*thank you @thecutestgrotto for the cool dividers!

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

Moody Nathan

I gotta be totally honest: I forgot this character existed. I'm so sorry Pedge. Oh boy. I think I'm gonna owe him extra chocolate chip cookies, he just went in the other room. PEDGE, I'M SORRY!...I must have seen this character back in the day, but I've never seen a fic about him. They must exist! Are you the one to write it??? I think I've got my hands full, making apologies. PEDGE, I CAN HEAT UP SOME HOT CHOCOLATE WHEN THE WEATHER COOLS DOWN??? Gotta go folks...amends must be made...

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!

Pena's Playlist 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

Pena's Playlist (Spotify)

*Pena who listens to music on the way to stressful DEA ops to distract himself *Rolls his eyes every time “La Bamba” comes on the radio, but mindlessly taps his foot regardless *Sits in the corner at the annual family potluck, listening to music and wishing he had someone to dance with *Endlessly annoyed with the elevator music playing at the DEA offices *Three whiskeys in at the bar, deluged with cigarette smoke and already horny *Favorite playlist for making love so he can sync his rhythm with song of choice *Blares the music loudly to cover sexy time sounds; NOT SUCCESSFUL *Can’t hold a melody to save his life, but can occasionally be found post coital in the shower, humming to himself in the steam *Loves hearing you sing under your breath in the kitchen as you prepare Ajaco. Secretly reminds him of his mother, but he will never say so

*thanks @strangergraphics-archive for the cool dividers!