#like the two muppets in the balcony

[13eyond13]

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[angeltannis]

Forspoken is like if you Only had the rude dialogue options in a game available to you

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey love I absolutely love your fics 🥰 I was wondering if you could write a dark toxic romance for Lando or Charles or even Logan where she’s the girl next door??? I love you keep it up ❤️

Crazy For You || LN4

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 4k Part one || part two || part three || part four

It had been two months since you moved into your apartment in Monaco and you still hadn’t managed to introduce yourself to your neighbour. He kept strange hours and seemed to be away more than he was there. From what you had glimpsed, you had been delighted to see he was probably around your age and quite handsome in an innocent way. Mr Riley on the other hand was a stoic old man who only spoke to you when your cat climbed over the balcony and into his space.

Known for its year-round beauty and calm climate, Monaco had welcomed you with a comfortable breeze and enough sun to warrant leaving the house without a jacket, even at dusk on a winter's night. If you had checked the weather reports you would have seen that a storm was quickly blowing in from the coast - arriving by the time you had finished having a few cocktails with your new friends. 

Christmas lights twinkled around the shop fronts as you exited the bar and nutcrackers stood proud in doorways. You always loved Christmas and seeing the smiles it put on children’s faces but there were no children out this late. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Luke asked as he twirled his keys around his finger. “It’s about to start raining.”

“She’s good,” someone answered for you and you looked over to see your elusive neighbour at your side, his hand coming to rest in the small of your back. “I can take her home.”

“You didn’t tell us Lando was picking you up.”

Your mouth was dry and you didn’t know what to say as the liquor, or his presence, left you confused. Lando, you stored that piece of information away and tried to figure out why it sounded so familiar. 

“I was just out doing some Christmas shopping and about to head home,” he said with a smile. “Ready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled as you let him guide you away from your friends.

“Are you sure?” Luke asked with a frown. “You don’t look comfortable. Do you even know him?”

“Kind of, I’m just surprised,” you assured him. “Lando is my neighbour.”

“Okay, well, text me when you get home.”

You gave Luke a nod and waved to the others before going your separate ways.

“Are you cold?” Lando asked, already slipping his arms out of the jacket he wore over a dark hoodie. 

The alcohol had made you numb to the temperature but you let him drape it over your shoulders anyway, wrapping you in the decadent scent that came along with it. 

“Thanks.”

“Any time, it’s what neighbours do.”

“I don’t think Mr Riley would,” you teased.

“The grumpy old guy in 4C? We just call him Carl, like the movie Up.”

You smiled awkwardly and toyed with the zip on the jacked. “I’ve never seen it.”

“What?” He pulled you to a stop and grabbed your shoulders with a serious look on his face. “This just won’t do. I cannot be seen with someone who hasn’t watched Up!”

“Oh,” you mumbled as you started to take off his jacket and hand it back. 

“What are you doing, you muppet?” He grabbed the jacket and put it back on your shoulders before opening the door to a very expensive looking car. 

“I thought you meant…”

“It’s fine, I have tinted windows,” he teased. “As soon as we get home though, we’re watching the movie.”

Lando followed you inside without an invitation but you could hardly turn him away with his boyish smile and mop of curly hair that sprung out of his hoodie when he pushed it back. “This makes sense,” he chuckled as he stuck his head in the bedroom, pointing to the wall that your bed was pushed against. “Our apartments are mirrored. I thought I woke up to a voice a few times. Do you watch Friends?”

Your head tilted at the odd question. “Why do you ask?”

“You sing ‘smelly cat’ a lot.”

Mortification hit you and you felt your face burn as you turned to the culprit walking through your house with a loud purr. “That’s Eddie. Do you have any pets?”

“No, I’m always travelling for work and I’m not very good at looking after myself let alone another living thing. Do you actually know how to use those things?”

You looked at the kitchen where he was pointing to the appliances. You had planned to make some Christmas cookies over the weekend and had the stand mixer ready on the benchtop. You thought he was joking but he was genuinely intrigued by the inquisitive look of wonder on his face. “Cooking relaxes me,” you said with a shrug. “You probably have plans already but if you want to come over and-”

“Absolutely, say no more, I’m in.” He crossed the living room and dropped into the middle cushion of the three seater sofa and patted the space beside him with one hand, the other reaching for the remote. “You do have Disney+, right?”

 “You really do like to make yourself comfortable, don’t you,” you joked as you took a seat beside him. 

“I’ve been told I can be a bit much,” he said with a small frown, placing the remote down. “Should I go?”

“No, no, I appreciate the company,” you said as you caught his arm to stop him from going. “Being alone in a new country is a little isolating, it’s nice having someone here.”

He settled back into the seat and sent you a grin as he searched for the movie. “Anytime you need someone to talk to, you can just knock three times.”

The weeks before Christmas were a madhouse. Work kept you busy as well as the many requests to go home for the holidays, but it just wasn’t going to be feasible to take leave so soon after starting. You knew your parents were going to be disappointed but you promised them you weren’t going to be alone for Christmas.

You had eventually found out why Lando’s name was so familiar when Luke explained who he was and why he was away so often. But since the race season was over he had plenty of time to spend at home, yours and his.

Just like every other evening, you knocked three times on the living room wall knowing Lando would be able to hear it despite the special Christmas Eve stream he was on. It was the last one of the year and he wished everyone a Merry Christmas before the live feed of him playing Counter Strike came to an end. 

“Ouch, Eddie, fuck,” Lando swore a few minutes later as he knocked at your door. “Stop it.”

You opened the door to the frequent occurrence and took the hissing Eddie from his outstretched arms before he could get clawed again. Your ginger cat seemed to hate Lando for some reason, or maybe it was because he was always bringing the escapee back home to you.

“I think you should just move in with me,” Lando joked as he followed the mouthwatering scent into your kitchen. He came to your house for dinner most nights after finding Eddie on his balcony and usually stayed for a movie. That routine had changed slightly when the movie he chose one night was Friends With Benefits. There had been a moment after a sex scene when you both looked across at each other and the idea had passed between your eyes. 

He cleared his throat and you realised you had been staring at him for too long. “Eddie likes my place better.”

It clicked, he wasn’t actually asking you to move in with him. But for a moment you had considered it.

“Right, Eddie,” you laughed at your idiocracy. “I really don’t know how he keeps getting out. I must be going crazy because I’m sure I locked the window this morning.”

You both looked at the window that opened onto the balcony, the skies dark with another storm. “Maybe your cat is a genius and learned how to open it?”

You rolled your eyes but managed a laugh at his attempt to make you feel better while you readied two plates and took them to the table where he sat. “Maybe I should change his name to Houdini.”

“Better than Ed the Ginger.” Lando grinned as he pulled you onto his lap and scooped up a dollop of creamy mash potato with his forefinger, holding it up to your mouth. You sealed your lips around his finger and swirled your tongue around the tip, watching the blue of his eyes be swallowed by his pupils. “Naughty girl, you’ll be getting coal this year.”

Your head fell back with a laugh.“Who are you? Santa Claus?”

“Well, you are sitting on my lap, aren’t you?” He winked and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “Wanna see my North Pole?”

“Oh my god, eat your dinner,” you giggled. “We still have to watch A Christmas Carol and Nightmare Before Christmas!”

You had both written a list of all the Christmas movies you wanted to watch and they were the last two left. It was just in time as midnight was going to come all too soon and you wanted to be tucked up warm in bed when the storm hit.

A loud crash had you jolting awake and you blindly reached across the bed in search of Lando to find it empty. Panic gripped you as you wondered if you were being broken into and a scream almost erupted when your light flipped on and Lando rushed in soaking wet. 

“Holy shit, you’ll never believe what just happened!”

You stumbled into the living room where Lando threw an arm out to save you from stepping on the glass that covered the floor. The doors that opened out onto your balcony had been completely shattered during the storm and you shivered as the cold wind and rain blew straight into your home. A huge puddle was quickly spreading across the carpet and it was making its way to the Christmas tree in the far corner while you were still in shock. 

“The presents!” 

Lando twisted away from the pot plant that had been on your balcony wall, now it lay on the floor with the dirt turning to mud. Seeing the urge you had to cut across the glass, he shook his head and pointed to the kitchen where you would remain safe. “I’ll get them.”

Lando carefully navigated his way to the tree, turning off the power to the glittering lights, and bundled the gifts up before hopping his way back with a wince. The wrapping paper on some of the presents were splattered with rain drops but most seemed in perfect condition when he placed them on the kitchen bench.

“You’re bleeding,” you gasped as he balanced on one foot and you wrapped an arm around his waist to help him. “There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom. Can you make it there?”

He nodded and limped with your help away from the mess. “I think you should come and stay at my place until the doors can be fixed.”

“Are you sure?” you asked as you carefully used a pair of tweezers to pull out the small sliver of glass in his foot. “I can just get a hotel.”

“Ouch,” he groaned as it came free and blood welled at the site. “Not on Christmas Day, everywhere will be fully booked. I really don’t mind. It would save you from having to pack a bag.”

“If you’re sure…”

He smiled at the silly Spider-Man bandaid you placed over the wound before running the back of his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I am.”

You shivered at his cold touch and remembered how wet he was when you woke up. “What were you doing up anyway?”

He bit his lip and looked away sheepishly. “I was putting a present under the tree when a flower pot blew through the door.”

“Oh, wow, that wind must be insane. I hope all the boats are safe out there,” you mused, knowing some people lived on the mariner. “Wait, you got me another present? Lando, there’s already too many.”

“I wanted to spoil you,” he said with an unapologetic shrug. “You have single handedly kept me fed for weeks. You may have put a few restaurants out of business too.”

“You weren’t that bad were you?”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled. After testing his foot he took your hand and led you back to the presents to find a thin box that hadn’t been under the tree when you went to bed. “It’s after midnight, you know, you could open it.”

You took the box, surprised by the weight it had, and untied the pretty bow on top. The delicate silver writing drew a gasp and you looked at Lando with wide eyes. “Tiffany? I can’t open this, it’s too much.”

“Go on,” he urged as he placed your hand on top of the lid and gave it a squeeze. “Please, for me.”

Your fingers slipped twice as you tried to open the hinge and Lando’s hand enveloped yours, lifting it open to reveal the beautiful necklace within. The teardrop gemstone was the same shade as his eyes and it hung from a white gold chain that was polished to shine impossibly bright, even in the dim light. 

“Lando, it’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe as he lifted it up and stepped behind you to drape it around your neck. The weight of the stone settled in the centre of your chest and you turned to face him with a sincere, “Thank you.”

“So..?” He bit his lip as he showed you the empty box, a question written in the silk lining. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

It wasn’t until the week after New Years that a glazier would be able to fix your doors. The holidays had left a backlog of people needing repairs but supply chains had been delayed too. Once the doors were finally fixed you realised the carpet was beyond repair and that took another week to have done.

It was strange to go back home after nearly three weeks of living in Lando’s apartment. It was too quiet.

“Babe, have you seen my hairbrush?” You had looked through the bathroom drawers he had cleared out for you to use but there was nothing left. You went back to your apartment and did another search but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t the first thing you had lost going back and forth and you were beginning to worry.

“I’m sure it will turn up somewhere, love,” Lando said as he paused his game and turned to his friend in the simulator behind him. “Max probably used it.”

“Did not,” his friend replied with an indignant splutter. “Didn’t I see you singing into a hairbrush?”

“You’ve been experimenting with drugs again,” Lando snorted. With a resigned sigh, you decided your hair was decent enough to get away with at work and Lando tipped his head back so you could give him a kiss goodbye. “I’ll order dinner tonight. Chinese?”

“Sounds good,” you said as you gave Max a wave on the way to the door. “Try not to let him sit there all day, you know how his back gets.”

“Yes, yes, Lando has an old man’s back. I’ll make sure he moves his ass at some point,” Max joked. “Have fun at work.”

You screwed up your face at the sarcasm and their laughs followed you out of the apartment. You weren’t sure they had actually moved all day as they were still in the same spots when you got home. You had crossed paths with the delivery man in the lobby and your arms were laden with the takeaway Lando had ordered.

“How many spring rolls did you order?” you murmured as you kept unpacking more and more of the small styrofoam boxes with the treat.

“He’s going for a record,” Max said with a roll of his eyes. Ten minutes later Lando groaned, holding his stomach tightly. “I told you to stop.”

You had quickly showered and changed into some comfortable clothes and found most of the boxes empty when you joined them at the table. “How many has he had?”

“18, and he’s got no chance,” Max bet, reaching over to steal a spring roll for himself and swiping it through the sweet chilli sauce. “You’ll thank me later. Ah, fuck.” Max looked down at the red blotch on his white Quadrant shirt before sauntering off down the hall. “Mate, do you have any more stain remover? This one’s empty.”

“Yeah, under the sink there should be another bottle,” Lando yelled back, dropping his fork onto his plate in defeat. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Why the hell do you have cat food?” Max appeared in the living room with the same brand of pet food you bought for your cat. 

“That’s not mine, obviously.”

You looked at Lando, who was rubbing his full stomach and as reclined back as much as the chair would allow. “It’s not mine.”

“You brought it over during the storm, remember?”

“No I didn’t.” You hadn’t wanted to disrupt Eddie’s routine and fed him at home each morning before work.

“Yes, you did.” He laughed as he tapped your temple gently. “You have a terrible memory, love. You can’t even remember where you left your hairbrush.”

You didn’t have an argument for that, since you still hadn’t found it. You were sure you hadn’t brought any cat food over, but maybe he was right. You did seem to be a little confused lately.

“I think I need an early night,” you admitted as you cleaned up the dishes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not staying?” Lando asked with a pout as he joined you at the sink, wrapping his arms around your waist and peppered your neck with soft kisses. “Who am I going to cuddle with?”

“I’m sure Max wouldn’t mind a snuggle,” you teased him as you turned in his arms. “I have an early start tomorrow but I can stay tomorrow night.”

He groaned at the thought of sleeping alone and held you tighter so he could have you in his arms a little longer. “Fine,” he huffed, relinquishing his hold on you and filling the kettle. “I’ll make you a chamomile tea so you sleep better.”

You smiled at his sweetness and savoured a few more minutes of kisses before the water boiled and he scooped out a few spoons of some boutique tea leaf mix he swore was the best sleep tea money could buy. Given how rich he was, you believed him.

Placing the hot mug in your hand, he bit his swollen lip and nodded to the front door. “Go before I tie you to my bed and never let you leave.”

“You wouldn’t,” you laughed, rolling your eyes as he winked. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, love, sweet dreams.”

Something disturbed your sleep and you rubbed your eyes as you woke up well before your alarm. You reached for the lamp beside your bed and accidently knocked into the cup of tea you hadn’t finished before falling asleep, the cold liquid sloshing over the side before you caught it and froze. 

Your bedroom door creaked open but it was too dark to see who it was. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried to think of what to do before the shadow reached the edge of your bed. Your throat was so clogged with fear you couldn’t even scream, your hands trembled and closed them into fists before banging on the wall behind you, begging Lando would wake up at the sound.

Bang, bang, bang.

The figure lunged onto the bed, pinning you down with their weight and slamming your fists into the mattress. “Shh, love, it’s me.”

You relaxed as Lando’s voice soothed you, but the fear soon crept back up your spine with an icy shiver. “How did you get in here?”

“You forgot to lock your door,” he whispered as your wrists began to ache from the hold he had. “I was coming to check in on you.”

“No, I didn’t,” you said as you tried to shake him off. “I know I locked it. I know…I…I’m not crazy. Get off me, get off me right now.”

“You were meant to be asleep, love,” he groaned as his hands tightened to the point a pained cry escaped your gritted teeth. 

“Why are you doing this?” you whimpered as he kissed your neck, but you couldn’t feel anything but repulsion. 

“You should have just moved in with me, we are meant to be together.”

“You’re crazy,” you spat as you tried to buck your hips and throw him off but he was too strong. “Help! Somebody, help!”

His hand clamped over your mouth and you bit him as hard as you could before kicking and climbing away. 

“I’m not the crazy one, that’s you, love,” he laughed. “You’re my girlfriend, you’re sick, but I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“You are fucking insane!”

“No, no, sweetheart, I’m trying to help you, remember?” 

You froze in the doorway as you saw a cutout of your key on the kitchen bench, along with your hairbrush, phone, a negligee and dressing gown. All things you had been convinced you had lost in the last few weeks.

“Why are you doing this?” you repeated as you backed away from your boyfriend. He was someone you had trusted, someone you thought had fit perfectly into your new life - but he had been messing with you this whole time. Max and the cat food came to mind. “Eddie…he used to go to Mr Riley’s house.”

“Couldn’t have that,” Lando tutted with a shake of his head as he took a step closer, “not when he was going to help me get close to you.”

“Don’t! Don’t come any closer to me!”

“Baby, don’t be like that, let’s just go back to bed. You’re under a lot of stress, let me make you a chamomile tea.”

You swiped your phone up as you bolted but he was quicker and blocked the front door, holding his hand out. “Give that to me, you don’t want to do that.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” you hissed as you started to dial the emergency number.

“It’s you they will take away,” he said with a blase shrug that made you pause. “Everyone knows how unstable you have become.”

“Me?” you shrieked.

“You’re barely holding it together now. They aren’t going to believe anything you say.” He opened his arms as if to say, I’m famous and you are no one. Unfortunately, he was right. “Come on, love, let’s go back to bed.”

He took the phone from your limp hand and locked it before slipping it into his pocket. You were so confused that you had no idea what to do when he guided you back to the bed, turning the sheets down before tucking you in gently. “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead and handed you the cold mug. “Drink up, baby, this is all just a bad dream.”

Click here for the next morning.

[the-californicationist]

he doesn’t disappoint

Wrote this fic as I was inspired by the challenge from @sky-is-the-limit that asked for Price getting fed up with hearing his hot neighbor have really terrible sex.

“I came to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

MDNI/18+

AO3 Version here

Four long stories above the people and the pigeons, she sat, legs on the railing of her amazingly small balcony, reading and writing. Always dressed in that huge jumper with the fraying collar, it swallowed her, covering her little spandex shorts that barely managed to keep her thick arse from slipping out of them, and she had her hair in the braid again. It was his favorite. He liked the ponytails, too, but the braid did something to him. When she plaited her hair and let that heavy rope hang limply over her shoulder, she became Repunzel, and he was Gallahad - or whatever muppet was meant to be at the bottom of her tower.

Captain Price knew that, the moment his fingers flipped the lock on his window, he’d disturb her peace. She’d startle, like a doe, and turn to smile at him. He lived for that turn. Every few nights, he’d catch her out here again, and he could make her turn to him. Make her smile at him. Make her laugh and talk with him, until she went to bed. But, that was the problem. Lately, her bed was filled with the one thing that made Price’s body fill with frustrated rage: The Boyfriend.

The Boyfriend was such a typical Yank, it made Price’s eyes roll back in his head. From the boat shoes to the bad fade haircut, the lad looked like an Abercrombie advert had escaped from one of those oversized shopping bags and landed in her apartment. He was small, first of all, despite the gym-made muscles. And he was as smooth as an otter, fully hairless. Price shuddered back to the memory of watching him try to put up the fire escape ladder shirtless, struggling to lift it with those tiny hands of his, making a disgusted face at the dirt on his palms afterward, wiping it on her blanket without her seeing him. Disgusting little gremlin.

She kept giving this wanker chance after chance to figure it out in the bedroom, and Price had heard just about enough of it, and his gut twisted in his belly knowing he’d have to hear it again tonight. He knew The Boyfriend was here because she was doing her work outside. The Boyfriend insisted on playing his Battle Zone videogames on full volume, bothering her, and complaining like a child if she asked him to put on his headphones. Price enjoyed imagining how quickly he’d expire on a real battlefield. That little prick could scream all the obscenities he wanted but he’d be dead in milliseconds against a man like Price.

His darling didn’t know about that, though. She knew he was in the military, but she didn’t know that he was the leader of the deadliest special forces team in the world. He imagined explaining it to her, pictured the fear flooding her face, confusion and shock hanging out of her open mouth. No. He couldn’t tell her about himself. Usually, when they talked together on the balcony, he would smoke long, densely-packed cigars and sip his whisky while she confessed the sins of her day to him. She told him about grad school, about her poetry, maybe showing him a sample or two. It was beautiful. When she was upset, she’d even tap on his window to see if he was home, sometimes tearful, asking for advice on how to handle something The Boyfriend had done. On really bad nights, she’d lean in and hug him, crying on his enormous shoulder, telling him what a good friend he was for listening to her. She smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, and her warmth made his cock swell with furious need.

As the night dragged on, The Boyfriend would eventually remember her and call her inside. He’d croon all sorts of things to her. His little whining “come on, baby” and pathetic “I just really need you to” quips were the opening lines to the worst song on Earth. He’d then spend the next five to ten minutes whimpering away on top of her, the headboard slamming into Price’s wall without rhythm. If the gorgeous woman suffering beneath him ever had the audacity to actually be enjoying his attempt, he’d shush her, shaming her for making noises, telling her “the neighbors don’t need to hear that shit.” Meanwhile, The Neighbor would be plotting his slow, painful death.

The banging started, and Price wanted to burst through the wall and stop this trainwreck from happening to her again. Eventually, a short time after it had begun, the banging stopped. Then, an even shorter time after that, the jingle of keys and the “I have an early day tomorrow” and “I have to go” were the outro to The Boyfriend’s opus.

Enough was enough. Before he even knew what he was doing, Price had his hand, raised in a fist, knocking on her apartment door. 23B. Shadow in the peephole. The click and clatter of a lock chain.

“Oh! John, it’s you. Is everything okay?” Her voice was low and smooth. Her cheeks were flushed. She was standing in her doorway, wearing those shorts, that jumper, still full of her need.

“No,” was all he could manage as he looked at her, his blue eyes blown, mad with desire.

“Oh, okay. Come in, I’ll make us some of that delicious tea you bought me. What are you doing here?”

Price followed her inside, silently relocking the portal, stalking her into the tiny kitchen, a mirror to his own. He came up behind her as she was looking in her cupboard for their mugs. When he put his hands on her hips, she froze, startled, eyeing him over her shoulder. His voice was just above a whisper, gravelly and accented, and he said,

“I came to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

She was on her tiptoes, reaching for the cups, but as she registered what he said, she slowly lowered herself back down to the tile of her floor, turning to face her neighbor with a look of shock on her face.

“What?”

Price played with the end of her braid, turning the end of it over in his hand, wrapping it up along his knuckles like a rope. He snaked the other hand up underneath her sweatshirt, fingers lingering on her warm belly, searching for the smooth swell of her breast. He told her, snarling,

“If I have to hear him continue to use you like a warm fucking towel, leaving you wanting, I will lose my bloody mind. Call him. Tell him he’s done.”

“You could hear us?” She flushed quickly at that, recalling all of the times she’d been punished for her noises.

“And I always hear you afterwards, after he leaves, making up for his…shortcomings. Bit sad, innit? Needing to take care of yourself when he should be the one looking after you. Time for someone new. Get your phone, love.”

It took her a moment to register what he was suggesting, but she was fed up, too. She smiled at his comment, and she reached for her phone on the countertop.

“Put it on speaker, sweetheart,” he commanded her. She obeyed.

One ring.

Two rings.

“Uh, what do you want?” The Boyfriend answered.

“Hey, Dick,” Price snarled, “We got some bad news, lad.”

“I’m breaking up with you, Richard,” she spoke into the phone very clearly, wrapping her free hand around Price’s huge bicep, not able to cover even half of its circumference, exploring him as he fondled her, one fist still holding her plait cruelly.

“What? Why? Who is that?”

“Why?” She scoffed, “Because every time I’ve come, for as long as we’ve been together, has been when you’re not here.”

“Are you serious? Fuck you, bitch. You’re just a -”

“Tha’s enough, Dick,” Price barked into the phone, “Look, no worries, mate. I’ll take it from here.”

Click. Price hung up her phone and turned it off, tossing it back across the counter. It made a loud, plasticky bang as it fell. He pressed his heavy erection against her body, crushing her hips with his, and moved his hand back under her jumper, plucking at her nipple like a soft petal, pinching it to make it stand at attention, watching her watch him.

“John, you… you never said anything,” she looked up into his eyes, begging him to tell her the truth he’d kept locked away for months.

“This isn’t even the half of it, girl,” he started to kiss her neck, sucking at her skin, his body writhing on top of hers, mimicking actions it would soon employ once he could get her out of her clothes, “I’ve wanted you for so. Fucking. Long.”

She moaned at the way he was kissing her throat with his bearded mouth, licking her with his long tongue. She cradled his furry cheek in her hand, enjoying the feel of its coarse hairs, whispering to him,

“When he leaves, you’re the one I picture. In my head.”

She might as well have lit a bomb. That was all he needed to hear.

He was strong enough to hoist her up onto the counter with one of his arms, wrapping it around her waist and setting her on the edge, her thighs spread wide to accommodate his huge body in between them. He tugged on her braid, using it to expose her smooth throat. She gasped, reaching out to steady herself.

The captain stood over her, looming like a dark beast, warning her in his quiet, steady voice,

“If I ever, and I mean ever, hear that little prick banging your headboard on my wall again, it’ll be his last day above ground. Am I crystal clear, love?”

“Yes,” she whispered back, a little uncertain how serious he was.

“Good girl.”

Price let go of her hair and scooped her off of the counter, carrying her with her legs locked behind him, through the small flat, and crashed to the bed where she’d just been disappointed. He vowed to her, silently, that he would do anything but disappoint.

Clothes started coming off in peeled layers; shirts, bras, pants, underwear - everything was shucked away like the rind of a melon, leaving only the soft, sticky inside, ripe and ready to be devoured. Price made his way down her body, biting and sucking whenever he wanted to do so, leaving a trail of teeth marks behind. Eventually, he could feel the heat of her pussy against his cheek, and it made him shudder.

He had pulled her phone into his pocket, and now he wanted to twist the knife. He called The Boyfriend and sent his own number straight to voicemail, preparing to leave a delicious message.

As he began to eat her juices, sucking them off her folds like the drippings from a popsicle, he started to hear little mewlings, soft and sweet, but very reserved. He glanced up at the rest of his meal, wondering why she was holding back. Then, he remembered The Boyfriend’s number one rule.

“Look at me,” Price ordered from beneath her thighs.

She hesitated, trying to hide her shame, putting her face in her hands, breathing heavy and ragged.

He reached both hands up to grab her ribs, coming up and out from his position to let her get a better look at him.

“Look at me, love.” It was a softer, lower tone, and she came out of hiding to obey him. He continued to command her, gently, “I want to hear your pleasure, sweetness. The louder you get, the harder I get. I hope the whole bloody city hears you tonight.”

“Are you sure? You like it?” Fuck if he wasn’t about to hunt that man down and execute him, authority or not.

“God, yes, love. Let me make you scream.”

This voicemail was going to be incredible.

He returned to his duty post between her legs, excited to start his work anew. This time, as his tongue worked her open, fucking liquidly in and out of her pink hole, swirling up around her clit, and exploring every hidden gem between them, he listened to her keening. It was soft at first, but then, when he began to stretch her, pushing down with his two, rough fingers, thrusting them slowly in and out, she started to come. Her cries were incredible. She was screaming for him to fuck her, to take her, to do anything to her, and he loved it.

Crawling back over her, Price used his heavy cockhead to paint drooling precome all over her slick slit, soaking himself so he could more easily fit himself into her core. He didn’t want to hurt her, and other lovers had trained him to know that his was big enough to be a weapon.

“That’s my good girl. Do you feel good, you sweet little thing? You’re a fucking dream. Tell me that you’re ready for this cock in you. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me, love.”

She was shaking from her orgasm, looking at him, bewildered, and she rushed the words out of her mouth like fire,

“I need it, please. John, I need you to fuck me. Fuck me, please, John. Put your cock in me,” and, like magic, Price obliged. Just as good at taking orders as he was at giving them.

Feeding his length inside of her wasn’t the issue, it was the fact that she was coming while he tried to do it. Price had a hand steadily working her clit, wetly pressing it where she needed it, and she was clenching against him so tightly, like a wet, molten fist, that it nearly pushed him out of her. He grabbed her body, looping his enormous arm behind her back, and shoved her down, locking her against his hips, deliciously impaled.

Her face was twisted into the most beautiful kind of agony, and as she came down from her high, he began to move in her. After she bloomed around his cock, opening like a flower, he was able to fuck into her even deeper, groaning with each of his thrusts. She gasped,

“Oh, God. John, you’re so good. You’re not done yet?”

He laughed, out loud and brazenly, holding her tighter,

“Oh, lovely girl, no. No,” he smiled down at his pretty little neighbor, “Those days are gone. I’m going to be inside of you all fucking night.”

[gayelderstourney]

FINAL

Propaganda:

Statler/Waldorf:

is there anything gayer than being a hater with another gay old man. Those two queers have done so much for the lgbt community

Waldorf has a wife, but it's literally just Statler in drag. In the wiki it says "Astoria often wonders why her husband keeps coming to this 'irritating, mindless, incessant nonsense' while he could stay home with her. The only answer from Waldorf was 'no comment.'" And I like to think it's because he gets to go on dates with his boyfriend. Every show they're always heckling the Muppets but end up sitting back in their balcony seat every show, meaning they must have to enjoy it enough to come back. They're, like the kids say, a little tsundere. -"The internet is a completely different culture isn't it." -"You said it. Everything here is immediately followed by sarcastic comments and nasty responses." -"Yup, we're finally where we belong." -"Do-ho-ho-ho-hoh!"

They hate everything together

Eda Clawthorne/Raine Whispers:

they were high school sweethearts but ended up going on completely different paths in life; they met again many years later and rekindled their relationship. they led a rebellion against the corrupt government together. eda turns into a harpy and raine’s reaction is pure awe. they’re canonically two of the strongest witches on the boiling isles. also their adopted son is the son of god!

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

hey I like your ideas about metafiction n such! how do you think anime would exist in toontown? for me I feel like maybe its a chinatown typa deal where they have a section of the town to themselves and some of them live in toontown itself! also my friend morse from amino suggested a really funny idea related to it: Underground. Magical Girl. Fighting ring.

I glad you do!

Actually no they live over in Japan like you said having their own sect of People it's a lot like the American Studios

So Studio Ghibli characters stay with Studio Ghibli, Mario and them stay with Nintendo etc etc

Unfortunately, Toontown hasn't existed since the 1980s, Judges plan finally worked with gentrification the humans were able to finally basically chase the Toons out for that Highway,

The only thing that can be counted as Toontown in the modern day is Disney World and Mickey's city of Epcot. If you look at the original plans for Disney World Walt was planning on a literal functional City for people to live in,

This is what Mickey completed it started out as a little town, but a lot of Disney Toons moved in and slowly he built onto it and continues to build on to it, as of 2024 there as well over 2 million residents of the City of Disney as it is called,

This is also where you will find some of the more adult Disney Tunes as a result of the fox merger, they do have a South Park land however you have to sign a literal contract stating we are not responsible for your death if you step in here and yes they have a record of three people they've killed. Matt and Trey literally just run around with cameras to capture the insanity of this group,

The Muppets same exact thing except for they've never actually hurt and or killed people however the insanity that is the Muppets, they also have a contract Statler and Waldorf are the worst when it comes to people trying to lawsuit because they Heckle From A Balcony and they do not have a filter

" I thought that was a beached whale for a moment"

" you idiot the beached whale found out how to operate a scooter so they aren't beached anymore!"

But the thing is these two don't even care when Mickey shows up he gets heckled too,

" is that a mouse or a rat I think its confused!"

"I think he's got an identity crisis either way he's ugly" and they start cackling

But as for California a lot of the Toons are just scattered throughout LA and Burbank in various housing made for Toons,

Except for the Disney Toons, Disneyland does have a whole area that is housing for Disney Toons that work at the Parks,

But again for the Anime Toons yeah they typically stay over in Japan and hilariously Japan is actually the most forward when it comes to taking care of their Toons because over in their country they are considered either Shinto Deities like Mario or Yokai,

Toons in Japan are seen as Good Luck it's like whenever Mickey comes to visit for Tokyo Disney, the Imperial family literally lets him stay at their palace to protect him and his Family, actually calling him offically the King of Disney and referring to his family with official titles.

But I will confirm that just like American toons, Anime toon's get up to trouble.

Mario is one that's known to literally talk in Japanese if he doesn't want to talk to you Mickey will also do this by the way he's omnilinguist,

Godzilla does exist and yes his home is the Bay of Tokyo but they have a decoy City that he can play around with and he's basically treated like local wildlife, he has a whole care team that keeps an eye out on him he also gets to help destroy buildings in Tokyo that need destroyed, like his own wrecking service it's a tourist spectacle haha. But people can go visit him in the bay he's pretty much like a giant golden retriever all his caretakers need to do is call out for him and he'll pop his head up after a few moments for treats and pets hilariously,

The Studio Ghibli Toons are known to be some of the most down-to-earth Toons, Mickey is actually great friends with Miyazaki, they both have that nonchalant I wish I didn't have to do this attitude in the modern day. In their world Hayazao actually had Mickey help him a bit on his Museum and a couple of characters and he returned the favor.

The Ghibli Museum is basically a giant terrarium of different worlds for the tunes to live in comfortably, this is what Mickey helped with

Because fun fact Mickey can literally warp the fabric of reality

But like Kyo Ani a lot of those Toons perished with their creators in the fire, because they didn't want to leave them. However the survivors were taken in by fellow studios and found new homes and helped as best as possible

Japanese Anime Toons are some of the most loyal as well to their creators who love them dearly, because seriously the Shinto Gods help the stupid idiot that abuses their Toons over in Japan you will get into big legal trouble and be a social pariah they are that protective.

[ariel-seagull-wings]

FICTIONAL CHARACTER ASK: STATLER AND WALDORF

Asked by @thealmightyemprex

@softlytowardthesun @themousefromfantasyland @the-blue-fairie @angelixgutz @goodanswerfoxmonster @princesssarisa @amalthea9

Favorite Thing About Them:

That while created to satirize demanding caustic critics, they are humanized enough not to become mean villains, being allowed to enjoy things and having a point when they criticize the things that actually did went wrong with the show. Plus, their bad critiques are not bad for badness sake, they are actually funny world games, wich makes them always enjoyable to watch, and they were shown to be able performers in the movies, wich makes clear that they talk out of personal experience on how to make a good performance.

Least Favorite Thing About Them:

Their opinions tend to be too similar, to the point where you can have difficulty diferentiating who is who. More contrast of opinions about performance art would be great to help highlight each one's individual identity.

Three Things I Have In Common With Them:

*I enjoy comenting about performance arts and visual media;

*I sometimes have a dry sense of humour;

*Ocasionally i laughed with my own jokes as a kid.

Three Things I Don't Have In Common With Them:

*I am not an old man;

*I am not a professional theater critic (yet);

*I don't have private nurses taking care of me at home.

Favorite Line:

"Waldorf *taps the balcony with one hand*

Statler: Did you liked that?

Waldorf: No, my hand slept."

"Statler: Shakespeare would have hated that!

Waldorf: You would know, you dated his sister!"

brOTP: Sam the Eagle.

OTP: Each other.

nOTP: Any of the nurses who take care of them.

Random Headcanon: Statler is of irish catholic heritage and Waldorf is of ashkenazi jewish heritage. The two met performing together in a vaudeville company doing The Irish and the Jew duo, and from that moment on they have been in love and living together.

Unpopular Opinion: They don't hate things for the sake of hating. They are human and know how to differenciate between good art and bad art, and they will watch the show till the end to proper come to a conclusion, not constantly cut the performers with jokes at their expense.

Song I Associate With Them:

Marley and Marley from The Muppets Christmas Carol

Favorite Picture of Them:

[nayialovecat]

My husband and I just watched Muppet Most Wanted - Polish dubbing of course, so I'm currently at the stage of comparing songs from the Polish version to the English version and I can say two things: 1. "Interrogation Song" is equally brilliant in both versions. I love it. 2. The song "I'm Number One" is slightly better in Polish because of the wonderful puns in the part where Badguy sits on the stairs and sings. But original text "You may think that you're smarter, but I'm smarterer than you" is wonderful.

I'm not a huge fan of the Muppets, having watched relatively few episodes of the original show and remembering very little of it. The first movie "after years" did not take me. In fact, I've always liked Statler and Waldorf the most of the show - they're wonderful in their balcony of mockers. But I loved the character of Sam in this movie. And I really liked the movie. A wonderful comedy of absurdity and cliché, but no embarrassment - it rarely happens in this type of films that play on sentiment.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Projects & Acquisitions

Well, today’s already been a pretty good day. I mean, I haven’t been awake for long, but ... y’know, that’s part of why it’s been a good day.

Since I had the day off, I had earlier-than-usual mini watch party of The Legend of Vox Machina. (I have thoughts. I’ll ramble about all that later.) Slept in. Woke up and did the online ordering portion of my big grocery shop. Which was good because some of the things I wanted and needed were on special offer - like, the good gluten-free bread, just for example. Also picked up a few ingredients for something I really wanted to try - see, I’m a little fed up at how expensive hot chocolate mix is, and the supermarket own-brand stuff is kind of crap, and I tripped over a video awhile ago about how to make your own. So I’m going to do that. Which meant I needed a couple of storage containers of the right size to store the finished product ... though I could just use the old jars, which I’ve saved. Hmm. Thoughts for later, but honestly, with everything I get up to, I could use storage jars. Also I needed to hit Amazon anyway because I needed a safer candy thermometer than the one I have if I’m going to be making hard candy. Even the steam from heating sugar to hard crack point can be seriously painful, and my candy thermometer requires leaning too close to the pot for my liking.

Anyway, after that, I fulfilled a promise to myself - a promise that this paycheque, on sale or not, I was going to get my Gilmore’s Glorious Bathrobe. It’s time to retire my old one, which looks like I skinned a polka-dotted Muppet to get it. It’s served me well, my old Muppet, but one of the pockets is ripped halfway off and it’s all battered. Best part is, it was still on sale - to the point where even when I sprang for DPD next-day delivery service, it was still cheaper than the base price would have been if I’d bought it while not on sale! Which means I should have it tomorrow! So I am of a squee. That’s even not taking into account that apparently my bestie is throwing the Trinket slippers at me as an early birthday gift.

Look, right now, with the way things are? Being able to stay warm without turning on the heating is a serious bonus. And ... well, the shark socks didn’t work out - they were cheap crap and the soles kept shifting in weird ways so they’re not really wearable - and my lovely super-thick fleece socks are great for warming up my feet when I’m curling up in bed for the night but they’re thick enough that I can’t throw a pair of shoes over them to step out onto the balcony. Thus, two pairs of moderately warm socks and slippers. I’ve been making do with thinner socks so I had my eye on more slippers anyway. I was just getting jazzed about the Trinket slippers hitting the UK shop and thinking I could buy slippers and robe at the same time, when all of a sudden, “I’m letting you know that I’m getting you the Trinket slippers, so you don’t go ahead and buy them first - happy early birthday”. My bestie knows me too well. ^_^

Right. It’s been a productive day but I’ve still got shit to do. Need to go out and pick up painkillers and at least some groceries (delivery’s tomorrow but food is still needed today). So not much shit to do, but some. Tomorrow’s going to be the day for Doing Things, though - fruit to run through the dehydrator, making my hot chocolate mix, and running D&D. And Sunday’s the big group session. Lots to prep for, but hey.

[delightfms]

poppy bit down on her lip, laughing softly. "jesus. i don't know. i think hadley and theo are definitely tied for sweetheart. you'd be like.. rachel green and im... one of the nurses that reveals someone just got plastic surgery and its the evil twin all along." the girl was sure if anyone was listening in on their conversation, they would've thought the two were crazy. "oh my fucking god. did you watch the muppets ?? we'd be the two old guys who sit in the balcony and make fun of people."

alyssa chuckled, leaning back with a playful glint in her eye. “ oh, i’m all in for this—imagine us narrating the wildest soap opera palmview’s ever seen. we’d totally be the ones to make it entertaining! as for the cast of characters, let’s see...the whole brooding type? gives me my ex vibes... gross. the sweetheart, i feel would be more theo. then there's knox who i feel like would definitely be the class clown type with all of his jokes. what about you? got anyone you feel like would fit the other ones? " she laughed a little bit. " even if we're the narrators... i do wonder where we'd fall under, you know? what do you think? does palmview sound like the best reality show ever already or what? ”

[unfilteredaj]

Do y’all ever imagine your blorbos sitting in a balcony and commentating on your life? Like those two old gay muppets in Muppetvision 3D?

[rosemints]

Dream Journal 1

I had a weird dream last night that my dad and I were walking around the downtown of some far off city when I heard music and lights wafting up from down a set of stairs. I wanted to know what it was, but also wanted to stay near my dad as he looked over the city from the balcony we were on. He encouraged me to go investigate on my own so I did. As I was walking down the stairs I got entangled with some Christmas lights. I noticed that as I walked down the steps(coincidentally in time with the music) that some of them fell off my body, leaving a trail of lights on the stairs behind me. I suddenly realized I was walking into the makeshift stage of a concert, and the crowd thought I was part of the show. If I turned around I would kill the vibe so I tried my best to continue descending with the music. As the song ended all the Christmas lights fell off and I hid in the shadows so I wasn't noticed. I realized this was a Taylor Swift concert and therefore needed to leave imdently. As I crept back up the stairs Taylor Swift's security officer went to question me about why I was there. I explained it was an accident and Taylor swift forgave me.

When I returned to my dad, I discovered that TWO Taylor swift concerts were playing at the same time. I told him that the people were getting scammed cause one of the Taylor swifts was fake. He responded that that was part of her brand, for she was too busy to actually show up to most of her concerts in person.

As the concerts ended the tour group we were with left on the bus, except for my dad's work friend. They began to carve spoons, though they wouldn't let me join in cause "I wasn't skilled enough". (They would not do this in real life). They did let me mold some plastic to be the basis for a new spoon though.

most people from the concerts left the area, but some college students began messing around and pestering us to join their cult. We said no many times even when they were very persuasive. The leader of them must have struck a nerve, because my dad began to cry. But not like a normal human, no. His eyes turned into roses and petals began to fall from his eyes. Everyone who wasn't him was very shocked.

*cue dream backstory segment* I realized that she was the witch who had cursed my father in childhood to cry rose petals, keeping him from making very many friends. Her face changed to look like a weird combo of Ceaser and Billie from Bigtop Burger.

some other things happened and for some reason they chased us around the lawn to their favorite tree to worship their "god" . At this point we all looked like muppets or recolors of that one yellow Don't Hug Me Im Scared character. Also we were all college students and my dad was no longer my dad but a sibling. it was discovered that the tree was covered in little red and yellow spider called "chigger bugs" whose bites could be deadly. We were all bitten, and one branched off to bite a small child who flew off on a panic, spreading the bug to some birds who spread it to some sheep-and needless to say it was clear a problem had started.

But we weren't worried about that. We were worried about getting to the student medical office on campus so we didn't die of chigger bug bites. We made it, told the skeptical nurse that weyd barged in and bypassed the check in counter just outside the door cause it was an emergency and we were all dying of chigger bug bites, then asked politely of we could by pass the waiting room process and get treatment now please, as the bites work fast.

The nurse was mildly annoyed at us but understood the urgency and called for six or seven(I forgot how many of us there were)cures to be made. We were walked to a corner of the hospital like nurses office to a red and blue muppet lady who gave us special cakes made out of foam(which we could eat because we were muppets). The cure was that we had to eat the cake upside down while nodding our heads, then ask her about the cvs we were in.

A cvs sign suddenly appeared behind her and I asked why this student hospital was also a cvs. She explained that it was because it was so close to the only tree the chigger bugs lived in, and they were the only place specialized for the treatment of chigger bug bites. All of us cured, I woke up.

[lawliet-imagines]

The potato chip scene except Light eats them like Cookie Monster

[specialability]

Last night I couldn't fall asleep so I wrote an 800 word essay about TYK as a meta-narrative. Voilà.

"I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way." – Jessica Rabbit, Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988)

One of the things I think many fans of Tian Ya Ke like about it is that, unlike the tv drama, it is something of a satire or deconstruction of the wuxia genre. If you are familiar with the usual wuxia tropes (of which I am by no means an expert) it becomes clear how Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu are merely side-characters in what normally would be Zhang Chengling's Hero's Journey. Wen Kexing should, as the mastermind of the plot that killed Zhang Chengling's family, be the manipulative and enigmatic final boss. Zhou Zishu should be the scruffy old retired martial arts master who reluctantly takes the young hero under his wing – and then conveniently dies in order to encourage the hero to come of age. Instead of following this usual track, we are shown the scandalous underbelly of the conventional wuxia narrative – which I think Priest really digs into with Tai Sui (so go read it!!!).

As a result, TYK often reads like really good fanfiction of a novel that doesn't exist. You know the type, some author's 150k magnum opus on two side-characters that in canon have barely any depth and the fanfic author goes on to add so much new characterization and world-building that it feels like an entirely different work. The kind of fanfic that makes the source material look lacking by comparison.

But it was reading lianzi's translated chapter 15 that made me look at the narrative from a different perspective as a post-modernist piece. If you've read Hamlet you're familiar with the idea of a play within a play. But then there is another play, Rozencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead, which is Hamlet from the perspective of two minor side-characters mostly taking place "off-stage". And that's really what TYK reminds me of. You know those two old muppets who sit in theatre box seats and always make snide remarks about whatever the other muppets are doing? That's where Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu are situated.

In this Chapter 15 scene they are quite literally seated on the balcony watching Cao Weining fail to pay his dinner bill while making commentary and bickering. Zhou Zishu inserts himself into the narrative by paying Cao Weining's bill, and when Cao Weining comes up to the balcony to introduce himself Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu intentionally start acting like heroic figures from fiction. As I imagine it: the camera was originally only on Cao Weining, but then the camera pans up to see the pair on the balcony and then the camera follows Cao Weining up to the balcony bringing the narrative with it. Once the camera arrives on the balcony Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu are effectively "on stage" now and have to act the part.

Thinking about this scene reminded me of many other scenes where Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu are simply standing to the side and watching the action. Two obvious examples are outside the Scorpion's brothel and Liu Qingqiao's death, but there are also other smaller scenes where Zhou Zishu alone intentionally removes himself from the frame, like when Wen Kexing and Ye Baiyi fight. I imagine the stage where the spotlight is on Liu Qingqiao as she struggles to fight for her life, while Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing are in the wings, covered by darkness, whispering to each other. They don't quite have the powers of breaking the fourth wall and become fully self- or genre-aware, but they definitely have a cynical insiders perspective on the wuxia story they have become a part of. The themes of acting and wearing masks is a common one in the whole novel, especially the differences between how people are in public vs in private. But all of this gives the novel a voyeuristic tone at times.

Zhou Zishu already chose to leave the stage of the capital city, and although he got sucked into Zhang Chengling's story he could disappear from this new stage at any moment. Wen Kexing more actively plays his role up until the bitter end. In the end, Wen Kexing is supposed to reveal his True Identity and be killed by Zhang Chengling, allowing both of them to fulfill revenge for their families. This is the ending that Wen Kexing imagined for himself, and that's the part he knew he was playing. That's why it's so touching when he asks Zhou Zishu if it's okay that he survives. If it's okay that he selfishly violates the rules of the narrative.

Then they choose to leave the stage completely. Once off the stage (in the Extras) they can act like whoever they want. The only way to live freely is to quit the main story. And acting like a good person is pretty much as close as you can get to being a good person, regardless of how your character was written.

[gayelderstourney]

OLD MAN YAOI BRACKET ROUND 2

Propaganda:

Heavy/Medic:

They are referred to as boyfriends in an achievement (Beaux and Arrows) and on the official page for the End of the Line sfm it's described as "an action packed cinematic romp full of comedy action, romance action*, drama action, and actioney-type action.", there are no women in the sfm.

pretty sure they're both over 50 judging by some lines in the comic and their appearances (when the medic is asking satan to be put back on earth he says "another 50 years", implying he already lived for 50 years before he died). these two are typically seen together in canon as an unstoppable duo, and they are the KINGS of romanticizing surgery.

Statler/Waldorf:

is there anything gayer than being a hater with another gay old man. Those two queers have done so much for the lgbt community

Waldorf has a wife, but it's literally just Statler in drag. In the wiki it says "Astoria often wonders why her husband keeps coming to this 'irritating, mindless, incessant nonsense' while he could stay home with her. The only answer from Waldorf was 'no comment.'" And I like to think it's because he gets to go on dates with his boyfriend. Every show they're always heckling the Muppets but end up sitting back in their balcony seat every show, meaning they must have to enjoy it enough to come back. They're, like the kids say, a little tsundere. -"The internet is a completely different culture isn't it." -"You said it. Everything here is immediately followed by sarcastic comments and nasty responses." -"Yup, we're finally where we belong." -"Do-ho-ho-ho-hoh!"

They hate everything together

[chrisbitchtree]

April Prompt Challenge Day 25 - Cold

Full prompt list here

***

“Hey, baby! I’m home!” Billy called out as he entered the apartment, backpack, and a few bags of miscellaneous groceries in hand. No response. That was weird. It wasn’t that Steve couldn’t go out whenever he wanted, but he’d told Billy specifically that he would be home and would handle dinner tonight. It was approaching 5, and there was ground beef defrosting on the counter, but Billy didn’t see any sign of the other boy.

“Steve?” he called again, poking his head into the living room and their bedroom. He was in neither room. He wasn’t in the bathroom either. Billy wandered back out to the living room, figuring he’d check their small balcony, just to see. It was mid-January, so he figured there was no way, but of course, Steve was a little nuts, so he shouldn’t be that surprised.

He opened the door to find his boyfriend sitting out in the cold on a patio chair, eating a bowl of ice cream. He was listening to his Walkman, tapping his foot along to the beat. “Hey, babe,” he said, a big grin on his face once he noticed that Billy was there. “Want some?” He held out his half-finished bowl of ice cream.

Billy shook his head. “No, I’m ok, pretty boy. What are you doing out here? It’s like 30° out!” Steve shrugged, laughing. “You’re just made of hearty midwestern stock like I am! I’ll be in to start dinner soon! We’re having Hamburger Helper!” Billy shut the door but took another minute to just watch Steve.

It was nice to see Steve just relaxing, even if it was out in the cold like some lunatic. Steve liked to say that Billy had done so well overcoming so much. And Billy was proud of himself for all he’d accomplished over the last couple years. Getting out of Neil’s house, getting into university, working a job to support himself, and attending therapy sessions, but he wasn’t the only one who had completely changed his life.

Steve had completely uprooted his life to move to Chicago with Billy, someone he barely knew at the time, taking a chance on him. He’d found a job as a waiter in a local diner, making great tips, and he was taking classes at the community college so he could eventually go to university. He had dreams of becoming a kindergarten teacher and Billy had no doubt that he would accomplish that goal.

On top of all the big stuff, there was also the little day to day things that Steve made seem so easy. He took care of folding all their laundry, a chore Billy hated, he always packed lunches for both of them, and he would talk Billy into going to his therapy appointments when he didn’t want to go. Steve would sit on the floor with him, reminding Billy of all the good that came from those appointments.

Finally, Steve re-entered the apartment, bringing a rush of cold air in with him. He came up behind Billy and pressed his cold hands to Billy’s toasty warm arms. He almost jumped in shock. “Fuck you, Harrington,” Billy said, turning around and laughing. Steve had a mischievous grin on his face. He was a little shit, but Billy still couldn’t help pulling him in for a kiss, cold lips, and all. “Warm me up,” Steve said, trying to burrow into Billy’s warmth.

“No no,” Billy replied, guiding Steve to the kitchen. “I think someone promised me Hamburger Helper. Standing over the hot stove aught to warm you up!” Steve couldn’t really argue with that, so off he went to the kitchen. Steve turned on the radio as he cooked, humming along to Billy Joel and Madonna on the local pop station.

Just as Billy’s stomach was starting to rumble, Steve set down two bowls of hot, comforting goodness at the table. As they sat and ate, Steve regaled him with stories about diner patrons that he’d met that day. It was something that Billy always looked forward to, both for the stories themselves, and for how Steve told them. He would gesture wildly, getting really into it. Another reason that Billy loved him, how animated he was about everything. He was like a Muppet.

After they did the dishes, Billy washing and Steve drying, they watched a movie on the couch, cuddled up under the big throw blanket that Steve’s mom had gotten them after she’d felt how drafty their apartment was on a recent visit. Steve sat against an armrest with Billy cuddled in his lap, the other boys back to his chest.

As they watched the movie, Steve started playing with his hair. Billy shivered, and Steve paused his hands. “Is that ok?” Billy nodded. “Yeah, your hands are just a little cold.” Steve, ever considerate, rubbed his hands together to warm them up before he continued. He worked Billy’s curls into a lose French braid, then tilted Billy’s head side to side, admiring his work. “And you call me the pretty boy,” he said softly. Billy smiled, snuggling further into his lap.

Shortly thereafter, Steve went to sleep as he had an early shift at the diner, while Billy stayed up studying for his classes. When he finally went to sleep, it was freezing cold in the room because Steve had opened the window. He debated closing it, so he’d be more comfortable in boxers and a t-shirt but opted to just put on a sweatshirt and sweatpants instead. Steve deserved to be comfortable too. Plus it gave him an excuse to wake Steve up so the other man could cuddle Billy in his arms.