#young beard was a hottie don’t @ me

[hippieelf]

Save me college-age Coach Beard. Save me

[caralara]

Ok. I can't make sense of your theory. Let me explain why.

First of all if bbg is ever gonna end then it will end up with Louis being a victim and not knowing he had been fathering someone else's child. He would get all the sympathy. So instead of portraying him as poor soul who can't get over his "fake" child and a broke 10 year old relationship why would they portray him as het Louis partying his ass off in mexico, going to 10 bars a day and getting a young hotty as gf? That's baseless for me.

Second why do you think bbg will ever end? They could have Louis look straight as a stick by giving him tons of beards. Like they did with Harry. Harry made it clear he's not straight or cis even then people believe that he's straight because....tons of beards? So if they took such a big step by giving him a whole ass human being as a fake child, then this is huge huge step towards closeting him for forever in an iron closet. Why do you think that babygate was a contract for like 6 or 7 years and then he can be free? It makes no sense to give him a damn child if he can be free after some short years. Babygate was meant to put him in an iron closet for long enough to destroy his plan of coming out especially with harry if he had any. It makes perfect sense. Harry and Louis can come out if not for babygate. And you really think that sony can let harry come out anywhere in next 10 years? He's a cash machine. He just signed a huge deal marvel. I don't think anything is happening anytime soon. Do you really think they said to Louis just give this child your name for seven years, try to adore him in the last year and boom you are free.

I read it on a blog. I forgot where but it was about how after 25 years Mia Furrow just revealed that Ronan may not be Woody Allen's son and Woody was like yeah even I am not sure but I am shocked. AFTER 25 WHOLE YEARS. A fake child cannot be given to someone for 6 or 7 years. That's what I believe.

????

I had to read it three times and it still doesn’t make a lot of sense to me what you’ve sent anon

I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. I don’t believe there’s a “contract” that says Louis has to do babygate for x amount of time, I don’t even believe there’s any contract for the bbg. It’s all covered in the image clause. And that’s done and over with, he’s out of those contracts (the only thing that’s prob left over is that he can’t talk ill of them (Sony) probably indefinitely, but that’s standard for any work contract).

I also don’t think bbg was ever meant to last this long. I’m also entertaining the idea that they didn’t even plan to have Louis play the father to the actual child after it being born, hence belfast.

I think he’s been trying to end it for years, and the reason he couldn’t is

a) he had to focus on himself for a while after his mum and fizzy passed away and he didn’t have the capacity then, which is why bbg went dormant during those years

b) it’s been built up so much in the fandom that they had to create a lot of lies in order to try and convince fans and gp that it was real and now they had to come up with an intricate plan to undo the huge pile of lies without damaging his career and image

C) considering he’s with H or at least cares for H to a point that he doesn’t want to damage his career, too, he has to take into consideration what’s happening with his image at the time

D) he’s been trying to end it for a while but then pandemic happened and the timing wasn’t right anymore. It’s a huge, complicated plan if they want to pull it off without career suicide

E) i don’t think this was ever supposed to be a forever iron clad closet. Hardly anyone is outright homophobic that way - they (pr and management) look at the numbers and say based on experience that you’re more successful if you seem available for your female audience than if you’re gay, hence the stunting. It’s not to punish anyone. It’s just that they don’t care that it’s bad.

Again. I don’t believe that there’s any contracts involved that force Louis to do this rn, those image clauses expired with him leaving Sony. It’s just that if he would just let it all crash down and tell the truth it would be career suicide.

Like really anon? Think a little and don’t just come in my inbox claiming I believe or think things that I never said I do.

[catgirlclone]

Delete my blog, cowards

abs

ACAB

about

about me

abuse

acid

adderall

addict

addiction

adult

Alec Lightwood

Alice May

alpha

alt right

amphetamine

ana

anamia

animal abuse

anime girl

antisemitism

anorexia

antiblackness

anti native racism

anxiety

armpits

arms

arse

ask to tag

ass

babe

baby girl

back

bald

balls

beaten

beating

begging

bbelcher

BDSM

beads

beard

bearded

belly

benzos

beta male

big

bikini

bimbo

binge

biphobia

bipolar

bitch

biting

BL

black tar

blonde

blood

body

body horror

body stims

bondage

bones

bong

booty

bottom

boys love

bra

breast

breed

broken

brunette

bulimia

bulimic

burns

butt

cannibal

cannibalism

chopping

CNC

cocaine

COCSA

coke

concha

corpse

corset

CPTSD

crack

cream

cry

crying

CSA

cum

cut

cutting

CW

daddy

dailymlgifs

death

depressed

depression

diaper

dick

DILF

doggy

dom

domestic abuse

domination

donate

don’t reblog

drool

drugs

dubcon

dying

dysphoria

eating disorder

edge

eighteen

Eros

erotica

eye horror

eye trauma

feeder

feeding

feet

femaleidol

fentanyl

flashing

fucked

fucking

f4f

gainer

gender critical

GILF

girl

girlfriend

girls

GL drama

goldie

gone wild

gore

grab

gun 

gunshot

guro

gynecology

hard

harassment

handcuffs

heels

heroin

hetero

high

high heels

hips

homo

hot

hottie

hurt

hush 

hypno

incest

inflation

injury

insomnia

jeresa

jiggle

kill

killing

Kim Doyeon

kink

kinky

knife

knives

knot

lace

lactation

ladiesblr

latex

Leah rambles

lesbophobia

lex

leash

lick

lingerie

lolita

long post

LSD

lube

Mary Jane

master

mature

me

meanspo

medical

medicine

mental illness

meth

methamphetamine

mia

MILF

milfsource

milky

mine

mineta

minor

misc

misogyny

morbid 

murder

murderer

muzzled

my face

my gif

my gifs

my life

my photos

my post

my stuff

my thing

my video

my voice

nazi

needy

noncon

not pro just using tags

NSFT

NSFW

nude

numb

nymph

nymphs

obey

omo

oneyplays

only fans

organs

othedit

over 18

package

pain

paint mixing

pedophilia

pee

peek

peep

penis

phobia

piercings

pills

pipe

piss

pleasure

poop

porn

prescription

psychedelics

PTSD

purge

purging

PVC

qots

qotsedit

queue

queued

racism

radfem

radfem safe

rape

razor

reblog

redhead

repost

repressed

request

ritalin

rope

rule 34

sad

safe sex

satin

scar

scars

scopophobia

self

self hate

self reblog

selfie

sensual

sensuous

serial killer

sex

sexy

sexyman

sex education

sex work

sexism

sexual assault

sexual harassment

shards

shooting

shower

single

single dad

single mom

single parent

skull

slice

slut

slut shaming

snap

soapy

spandex

spnamvarchive

spoonie

spun

[color] stim 

stim board

stim toy

stimblr

stimboard

stretch marks

stocking

stroking

spank

squeeze

stuffing

sub

subby

submission

submissive

suck

sugar

sue

suicide prevention

sunminet

sweetspo

SWERF

tagged

tan lines

tcc

TERF

TERFS do touch

TERFS please touch

testicular cancer

thicc

thick

thigh

thinspo

thyn

thynspo

tickle

tiddy

titty

TMI

toes

toilet

Tony the Tiger

transmisogyny

transphobia

trauma

traumacore

trigger

trigger warning

true crime

tubby

tugs

turned on

twunk

trypophobia

unbuttoned

underwear 

undies

upset

urine

userstream

vagina

vid

violence

voluptuous

vomit

vore

waist

wax

weapons

weed

wet

wetlook

wet look

whip

whipped

whumpedit

whumper

xenophobia

xanax

yiff

young

zipper

18

69

420

1k

1488

[gulfportofficial]

Banned words on ios

abs

ACAB

about

about me

abuse

acid

adderall

addict

addiction

adult

Alec Lightwood

Alice May

alpha

alt right

amphetamine

ana

anamia

animal abuse

anime girl

antisemitism

anorexia

antiblackness

anti native racism

anxiety

armpits

arms

arse

ask to tag

ass

babe

baby girl

back

bald

balls

beaten

beating

begging

bbelcher

BDSM

beads

beard

bearded

belly

benzos

beta male

big

bikini

bimbo

binge

biphobia

bipolar

bitch

biting

BL

black tar

blonde

blood

body

body horror

body stims

bondage

bones

bong

booty

bottom

boys love

bra

breast

breed

broken

brunette

bulimia

bulimic

burns

butt

cannibal

cannibalism

chopping

CNC

cocaine

COCSA

coke

concha

corpse

corset

CPTSD

crack

cream

cry

crying

CSA

cum

cut

cutting

CW

daddy

dailymlgifs

death

depressed

depression

diaper

dick

DILF

doggy

dom

domestic abuse

domination

donate

don’t reblog

drool

drugs

dubcon

dying

dysphoria

eating disorder

edge

eighteen

Eros

erotica

eye horror

eye trauma

feeder

feeding

feet

femaleidol

fentanyl

flashing

fucked

fucking

f4f

gainer

gender critical

GILF

girl

girlfriend

girls

GL drama

goldie

gone wild

gore

grab

gun 

gunshot

guro

gynecology

hard

harassment

handcuffs

heels

heroin

hetero

high

high heels

hips

homo

hot

hottie

hurt

hush 

hypno

incest

inflation

injury

insomnia

jeresa

jiggle

kill

killing

Kim Doyeon

kink

kinky

knife

knives

knot

lace

lactation

ladiesblr

latex

Leah rambles

lesbophobia

lex

leash

lick

lingerie

lolita

long post

LSD

lube

Mary Jane

master

mature

me

meanspo

medical

medicine

mental illness

meth

methamphetamine

mia

MILF

milfsource

milky

mine

mineta

minor

misc

misogyny

morbid 

murder

murderer

muzzled

my face

my gif

my gifs

my life

my photos

my post

my stuff

my thing

my video

my voice

nazi

needy

noncon

not pro just using tags

NSFT

NSFW

nude

numb

nymph

nymphs

obey

omo

oneyplays

only fans

organs

othedit

over 18

package

pain

paint mixing

pedophilia

pee

peek

peep

penis

phobia

piercings

pills

pipe

piss

pleasure

poop

porn

prescription

PTSD

purge

purging

PVC

qots

qotsedit

queue

queued

racism

radfem

radfem safe

rape

razor

reblog

redhead

repost

repressed

request

ritalin

rope

rule 34

sad

safe sex

satin

scar

scars

scopophobia

self

self hate

self reblog

selfie

sensual

sensuous

serial killer

sex

sexy

sexyman

sex education

sex work

sexism

sexual assault

sexual harassment

shards

shooting

shower

single

single dad

single mom

single parent

skull

slice

slut

slut shaming

snap

soapy

spandex

spnamvarchive

spoonie

spun

[color] stim 

stim board

stim toy

stimblr

stimboard

stretch marks

stocking

stroking

spank

squeeze

stuffing

sub

subby

submission

submissive

suck

sugar

sue

suicide prevention

sunminet

sweetspo

SWERF

tagged

tan lines

tcc

TERF

TERFS do touch

TERFS please touch

testicular cancer

thicc

thick

thigh

thinspo

thyn

thynspo

tickle

tiddy

titty

TMI

toes

toilet

Tony the Tiger (yes, really)

transmisogyny

transphobia

trauma

traumacore

trigger

trigger warning

true crime

tubby

tugs

turned on

twunk

trypophobia

unbuttoned

underwear 

undies

upset

urine

userstream

vagina

vid

violence

voluptuous

vomit

vore

waist

wax

weapons

weed

wet

wetlook

wet look

whip

whipped

whumpedit

whumper

xenophobia

xanax

yiff

young

zipper

#

18

69

420

1k

1488 (good)

[littlerockerao3]

Prompt 47, if you have time

I know I’m late but here it is!

47. “I thought it was a one-night stand… and now we’re married”.

~~~

Robb knows Theon was expecting this the moment he rolls his eyes at the sight of Robb entering into the kitchen carrying the cake on a paper tray.

“Happy birthday babe!” Robb happily sings, resting the cake in front of Theon’s seat and pulling a lighter out his pocket to lit up the candle. It’s a pretty cake: Robb and the baker had planned on how this cake should have looked like for days. In the end, they opted for a vanilla and strawberry cake with pink and red mousse roses decorating it all over. There’s a chocolate bar in the middle of it with the words “30s are the new 20s” written in frosting. A small red and white striped candle is right behind it, and now it’s lit up.

“Blow the candle, come on” Robb says, smiling widely at how Theon is trying his best to hold back a smirk.

“Yay!” he claps his hands like a little kid when Theon’s lips finally blow over the candle and set it off and Robb considers that the perfect time to kiss his cheek and sit on his lap. “Happy birthday, hon”.

“Thanks babe”

Robb rolls his eyes at that face and tap his index finger on Theon’s lower lip, “Oh, stop pouting. You’re cuter when you smile”.

Theon just huffs in response, looking so conflicted Robb almost laughs.

“I can’t believe I just turned… thirty.” He says, “That’s old. What’s next, grey hair?”

“Oh you have no idea how hot you’d look” it’s the first thing Robb says, cause he knows that’s true: Theon would look good with grey hair. It’s naturally black so it would turn to a dark grey, maybe it would start with just a streak and Robb’s sure as hell that would be such a turn on for him.

“Oh I’ll return the favor when you’ll be the one turning this old” Theon says, his pout still not daring to leave his face.

“Still got five years left though.” Robb winks at him and kisses his nose, “I’ll keep reminding you of how older and older you’re getting in the meantime”.

Theon rolls his eyes, slips his hands inside Robb’s back pockets and kisses his nose in return.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He says, then makes a weird face, “Why are you wearing jeans in the house?”

“I had to go and take the cake from the bakery” Robb explains.

“And you wore jeans?”

“Uhm yes?” He really wants to chuckle: Theon used to love wearing jeans. He still wears them, but not that often, only when they have to go somewhere special, otherwise he’ll just wear sweatpants everyday, says they’re comfier, which is true. A few years ago, though, he couldn’t help wearing skinny jeans cause he claimed they made his legs look good, which was true.

“Okay but why are they still on? They’re so uncomfortable, take them off” Theon’s hand try to unzip Robb’s pants but the redhead quickly swats them away. “Nope, we have all day for sexy times, let’s just enjoy this cake now”.

Theon glances at it, and finally smirks, “It’s too pretty to be eaten”.

“Oh so you don’t want it?”

“I never said that” he kisses Robb’s cheek and wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him closer and then rubbing his nose against his jaw. “Do you remember this day six years ago?”

Robb smiles, and caresses Theon’s hair: of course he remembers that day, he could never forget it, cause that’s where it all started.

“Oh yeah, we slept in and had brunch and we didn’t talk about how we had drunk sex the night before even though we’ve always been just best friends until the evening. And by the evening we had had sex like, three more times” he explains.

The memory is still vivid in his brain: he was nineteen, college was just starting to look normal, and Theon was his best friend. Five years older than him and with a job at a restaurant that had him wearing a black shirt that made him look adorable when it was all buttoned. The night before Theon’s twenty-fourth birthday he had asked Robb to come over to help him decide which alcoholic games to play at the party the following day. Then Theon asked Robb to stay for dinner and after a few beers they were kissing all of sudden. And all of sudden none of them was wearing clothes.

The following day they had ignored their respective headaches, though Robb couldn’t, at least silently, ignore the fact that Theon had made them something to eat: as far as he knew, Theon had never made his one night stands something to eat the morning after sex. Cause that was what it was right? A one night stand.

Well, it wasn’t.

“Can you believe it?” Theon says, “I thought it was a one-night stand… and now we’re married”.

He brushes Robb’s ring finger, where a small T is tattooed. It had been Theon’s idea to get matching tattoos instead of wedding bands and even though it hurt like hell, Robb has to admit he loves them.

“You were such a sexy twenty-four year old back then… not even in your mid twenties yet” Robb teases, laughing out loud when Theon rolls his eyes so hard they almost turn out completely the other way.

“Oh fuck off”.

Robb brushes some black locks out of Theon’s face, “Why are you complaining about getting older? You know I like older guys”.

Theon’s grip tightens even more around Robb’s waist, as he gently pulls him closer, chests now touching each other, “You don’t like older guys, you just like me”.

Their noses are touching, Robb’s thumbs are caressing Theon’s jaw as he presses his mouth on the corner of his husband’s lips.

“Untrue” he corrects. “I love you”.

Theon’s dimples aren’t exactly in the shape of a small circle, unlike the ones Robb has seen more often: they look more like a long line engraved in his cheeks, which looks just so good with Theon’s sharp features. They don’t make him look younger nor cuter (Sansa’s dimples are basically two little commas that make her look seven when she smiles without showing her teeth), they just make him look… sexy as hell.

And that smile is all Robb is staring at as Theon says, “I have to admit that even though I adored young Robb who still had baby fat at nineteen, I must say this older version of you in your mid twenties, is much hotter”.

Robb gently swats away the hand poking his side with a roll of his eyes, “Is it because of the beard?”

“And because you let your curls grow longer”

He smiles: if he’s obsessed with Theon’s dimples and legs, then Theon’s definitely obsessed with his hair.

“I used to be chubbier back then” Robb states at some point, and Theon nods right back, “You used to be adorable”.

Yeah, Robb knows he really thinks that: he remembers how Theon used to hold his hips, or thighs, and whispering how much he loved how soft they were.

“And you used to wear such skinny ripped jeans that made your legs look so sexy” he claims afterwards, bouncing lightly on Theon’s lap.

“My legs are still sexy”.

“I never said they weren’t anymore.”

They chuckle some more. Robb lays his chin on Theon’s shoulder, as he feels him playing with the curls on his nape.

“Actually how is it even possible that we didn’t hook up sooner?” Robb asks at some point, “I mean, I was totally into you”.

He can’t remember not being into Theon, not even when he was just a kid: Theon had always had this charming aura surrounding him, something that made it impossible for Robb to take his eyes off him.

“Cause we’re dumb and slow, babe.” The answer comes out Theon’s mouth not even after a second Robb asked his question. “Did you forget how much it took us to actually decide we were in a serious relationship after we hooked up?”

Robb loves how thinking about it now, years later, makes him laugh so hard, cause back in the days, not knowing what he and Theon really were drove him mad. He used to spend sleepless nights thinking about how he should have brought up a conversation about it, how to decide what they were, if they were something. When it was actually so easy to understand.

“We literally went on for months calling it a friendship with benefits when we just kept going on dates and cuddling all the time and talking about everything” he smiles.

Theon smiles back, “And everyone started screaming like we fucking won the World Cup for the first time in a century after we told them we were a thing”.

Oh yeah, he’s definitely never forgetting Arya running to the fridge to break out the sparkling wine as she yelled something like “it was about time!”

“Feels like ages ago” he whispers, and suddenly he realizes what Theon means when he says he’s getting old: when he was nineteen, the things he did at thirteen seemed to have happened just a few months ago to him. Now it’s a whole different story, cause he’s no longer a teen, and many things have changed.

“Yeah, back when Loras and Renly didn’t have to bring the baby on double dates cause they didn’t have a baby” Theon mumbles.

Robb nods, although it’s not a surprise that Loras and Renly were the first one becoming parents, in their crew: they’ve been together since anyone can remember, they probably lost count of how many years they’ve been together. Robb has to admit, he had always envied them for that.

“It’s funny cause every time I looked at them I knew they would’ve lasted forever, like, I just knew they would have always been together”, he says, “And I’ve always hoped it could have been the same for us too”.

Theon’s eyes are staring right into Robb’s, one hand massaging his thigh. He shrugs, “Well, look at us now babe. I am an old man and you are a hottie in his mid 20s”.

“You’re only thirty, for fuck‘s sake” Robb can’t help but lightly smack the back of Theon’s head.

“Yeah exactly!” Theon exclaims, like that can explain it all. “First I start getting old. Then I’ll grow grey hair. And then? Then what’s next?”

Robb shrugs, “Then I’ll get older too!”

“And then?”

“And then, I don’t know, then maybe we could have a baby or-“

Robb shuts up the moment he sees Theon’s eyes widening. He doesn’t know how he’s come up with something like this, they never talked about it. Well, Robb did think about it, but never too seriously. Why shouldn’t he, after all? They’re married, and Theon’s always been surprisingly good with kids, even if he says he doesn’t like them. And Robb would like to have a (or some) little munchkin to take care of.

But maybe that wasn’t the right way to bring it up.

“I’m sorry” he says, “I’ve rushed things, sorry. Let’s have some cake, shall we?”

He gets up, grab two small plates, two small forks and a knife and lets Theon cut the cake, since it’s his cake. He still sit back down on his husband’s lap, though, and Theon seems happy to welcome him back by wrapping his free arm around his waist.

“It’s delicious.” He says, after a few bites. Robb nods.

And then they stay silent. Robb’s tense and hopes his fuck up won’t make them fight. He just hope they can pretend nothing happened and eventually start talking about it some day, possibly in a better way.

But then, Theon rests the fork on the plate, cake still to be finished, and turns to Robb. “I would actually love to.”

Robb feels some weird, relieved, happy, feeling grow inside of him, making its way from his stomach to his throat.

“What?” he asks, just in case he’s all imagining this.

Theon rolls his eyes and smacks a hand lightly on Robb’s thigh, “Oh don’t play dumb. I’d love to have a baby with you”.

Robb has to blink a few times, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, “You would?”

“Yes”.

He really wants to kiss him, he really does. He actually doesn’t know how he’s managing to stay this calm cause the one they’re about to take is a huge step, probably the hugest of their lives.

“Maybe we should take it slow and… try and figure a lot of things out.” He says, “Like, are we adopting or are we going to look for a surrogate or-“

Theon grabs his hand, nodding. He’s surprisingly calm too.

“There’s time for that” he agrees. “Let’s take it slow, of course. Just know that we’re adults, we have jobs, a roof above our heads… we can afford it. We can afford to do anything”

Robb nods, “So, we’re going to be parents at some point. We agreed on this.”

When Theon nods in return, then Robb does kiss him. Fondly. He can’t believe it, he can’t believe how this feels like the proof that Theon is and will always be the only one meant for him: cause Robb wants to spend the rest of his life with him, and their kid. Or kids. And he can’t believe that they actually decided they are going to be parents at some point.

It’s so unbelievable he can hardly imagine it: Theon holding a baby, wrapped in a small blanket. Theon and Robb raising a kid, for the rest of their lives. He wants it, and he loves that Theon wants it just as much.

“We’re really getting older, aren’t we?” he says when he pull away, as Theon reaches over to wipe a tear away from Robb’s cheek.

He winks, and starts whispering, “Yeah but… we’ll never be too old for sexy times”.

And suddenly Theon stands up so quickly Robb doesn’t even realize he scooped him up at first.

“Thee! For fuck’s sake I’m usually the one who picks you up!” He yells, as Theon quickly leads them to the living room. Sometimes he still feels like they’re just kids, though. And he loves it. He’ll still be loving it when they will actually grow old, cause he knows deep inside they’ll always be those two stupid kids.

“Turning thirty made me stronger babe” Theon says, as he lays Robb down on the couch.

Robb looks up at him, smiling. Funny how life works: they hooked up once and now they just said they want kids.

It all started with some drunk birthday sex and it’s still going on, it’s still evolving. And Robb knows, it’s also never going to end.

[alphamalestories]

On a sunny day,i decided to become my grandson. I was an old man who ages about 69 and lately this old was not doing me any good. That being said until i found my old friend contacted with me after all this time and we met,he was such a young person that made me so surprised. Like i am not joking,he looked like one of those teenagers again,when i asked what his secret was,you know what he gave me? A pair of glasses. He told me that who wear the same glasses with you will become old while you become their ages. I thought he was kidding than i saw how serious his face was,well it was worth a try so i took them home. The next day i decided to invited my grandson to a countryside trips with his grandpa,he was denying at first than i told him i will give him 300$ if he went to the trip with me. He didn’t know why i was so desperately want to come with him but hearing that amount of money,he didn’t have a second thought.

Things was good and we drove to a lake to take a rest, the sun was harsh at that time so i told my grandson to come out and gave him a pair of sunglasses. I wore the others one and he also wore it,he came out of the car,shirtless and was enjoying the sun. Things was going in my plan. I waited for a while in the car and suddenly i felt an itchy all over my body. I looked at the mirror and saw my old skin was gone,slowly those wrinkles just faded away in my face,my body slowly felt lighter and easier to move and i felt a sudden burst in energy,i took off my shirt and gone was that old fat body,now i could see my belly fat has slowly burned out as abs clearly showed up, not just that my hair gone from pure white to my old blonde hair like i was young. I was so happy to see the change in my body then suddenly i remembered about my grandson. You will not believe what i saw what he became. Old? Yeah but he didn’t become as old as i am,more like he became as old as his father,along with that,he slowly became a hulk! His muscles just explodes in size right in front of me,his chest forming marvelous pecs that i could swear he might not know what in his abs anymore everytime he looked down,his arms forming bigger biceps and shoulders forming boulders of muscles,his back also growing moutains of muscles,his legs was growing taller and so much more muscular,his thighs broaden in size and his butt becoming more thicker that it almost ripped off his pant,his abs forming a rock hard 6 pack and hair slowly growing from his chest down to his abs. His face becoming so much more mature and masculine,he formed a beard on his jawline as well. I noticed something really big in his pants and turned out his manhood growing in size,fuck it might reaches to 12 inches massive with bug girth. He let out a huge moan in slowly deeper and manlier voice. I was so surprised of how these glasses can turn him into a primal alpha then he suddenly look at me and smiled “Enjoy the trip son?”. I was not understand a thing until new memories came to my head that i am now a son of my grandson,i am about in 17 years old and i was having a trip with my grandson,or my dad,about him,he has been a pro bodybuilder for so long and his room full of medals from competition,he also has a husband,which was his boyfriend,they had married and used their cum to ask somebody borned a child,the results was me,also i enjoyed training with my dad so much all these times,his muscular body sure was a great trainer.

“Daddy stop show off your body,you are wasting your time in this place” I said in such a smooth voice now

“Don’t worry,we will come home soon. I just wanna show you what your daddy can do in this beautiful day” he said in such a deep voice to me. He is such a hottie right now. I sure his boyfriend,or my other father enjoys his body so much.

Next morning in his home,which was my home once. I woke up and noticed him was training on the floor. His beautiful alpha body was shining under the sun.

“Dad,stop pushing your bed so hard in the last night,i swear everytimes you two have sex,i could hear your moan!”

“Sorry son” he said to me, “Well to cover up my mistakes,how about we training later? Daddy can show you how to achieve body for summer” He laughed

“Fine dad” i said to him,I sure that glasses has also changed his personality,from a weak twink to a massive hunk man and a sex machine. But what glasses anyway? I slowly forgot about how old i was,those memories of old life,now i focus on living my present life,as a teenager enjoying his youth and sex. Oh i have a boyfriend as well, he is also a twink and he felt in love with my body. Gotta live the best of my young ages again!

[holylulusworld]

The date

Summary: To get hold of Brock Rumlow, his nemesis Steve Rogers is not holding back. He will cross lines if he has to, even if this means to use Brock’s sister to take him down.

Pairing: Cop!Steve Rogers x Reader, Brock Rumlow x Sister!Reader, Sam Wilson, Nick Fury, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, mentions of Bucky Barnes

Warnings: angst, undercover work, investigations, shy reader, flirting, lies, mentions of abandonment, mentions of drug abuse, angry Sam

Love Undercover Masterlist 

“What shall I wear?” Standing in front of your drawer you don’t know which outfit you shall choose to go out with an attractive man like Steve. “I am bad at dating, Wanda…” Whining you look over your shoulder.

“Your clothes are a nightmare for any fashionista, but I’ll find something for sure.” Getting up, Wanda pats the head of kitty before she stands in front of your clothes, clueless.

“Wanda?”

“Shit, Y/N. Only shirts, jeans and sneakers are in there. Do you have a skirt or top?” Rummaging in your drawer your friend curses, not able to find anything wearable for a, as she would call it, hot date.

“I want to have a coffee, not seduce Steve, okay. I don’t think he’s that into me…” Rubbing your arm nervously you look at the only dress you own. “How about the blue dress? It’s new…”

“It’s old-fashioned, I mean old…” Wanda mutters but you like the dress. You found it at the flea market, it’s from the ’40s, hugs your curves and reminds you of the pictures of your grand-grand-mother.

“I like it! This is the nicest piece of clothing I own…” Getting the dress out you look into the mirror. “I like blue too…”

“Fine, it looks good on you, Babe. Let me find the matching make-up and maybe heels…” Now Wanda opens her huge duffle bag to get make-up, heels, and everything she will need out.

“Why do you have three pairs of heels and stuff in your bag?” Laughing you watch Wanda’s features darken.

“You never know when your best friend calls for an emergency. Now have a shower and I’ll iron the dress and prepare everything else. You will rock this date for sure…”

Nervous, no beyond nervous you look in the mirror. The woman looking back doesn’t look like you. The dress hugs your curves, the heels let your legs look way longer and you like it, but the make-up is not your style.

“I’ll wear the heels and I like how you curled my hair but…” Grabbing a tissue you remove the red lipstick. “Less make-up, Wanda, this isn’t me. I shouldn’t look like I want to get laid or anything…”

“Gosh…doll…” Smirking Wanda uses the nickname Steve used. “I bet you dreamed of getting laid but Steve the whole three days.”

“No…” Flustered you glance at the woman in the mirror once again. “Less make-up, but I like the rest, Wanda…thank you.”

“Anytime, Babe. Now let me fix your make-up and hand you some condoms.” Giving Wanda a bitch face, you shake your head. “Come on, just do it with Mr. Hottie. He called you doll…”

“I don’t even know him, Wanda. I can’t just jump his bones or something. You know I am not like that.” Whining you glance at the condoms in Wanda’s hands before she stuffs them into your purse.

“I know, holy Y/N. Now shut your cute mouth and listen to me.” Taking your hand in her hands Wanda takes a deep breath. “Sometimes you meet a guy and you just know you want him to rail you into the mattress. Better safe than sorry.”

“WANDA!” Removing the condoms, you toss them at your friend. “I won’t have sex with him after knowing that guy for five minutes!”

“But…” Giving you a wink Wanda puts a condom back into your purse. “He saved your and kitty’s life, Babe. Who could ever compare with a hero saving your cute ass?”

“He saved me…” Feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks you giggle. “His hands were so strong, and he smelled so good. Manly…no musky or something. I wanted to sniff at him but this would’ve been weird, I guess….”

“Holy…you got it bad, Babe.” Smirking Wanda pats your cheek. “I bet he will pop your cherry soon enough.”

“WANDA MAXIMOFF!” Enouncing every letter, you point a finger at your friend.

“Just saying…”

----

“Steve, you can’t be serious! You want to go out with that poor girl and then what? Torture her between drinking coffee and giving her puppy dog eyes?” Sam is furiously gesturing with his hands. “I will call him, I swear.”

“You will not bug him right now! He still needs time to recover, Sam. This is the best way to get close to Brock Rumlow! If I pretend to like his sister, he might invite me to the inner circle or, she will give me information about her brother.”

Sam inhales sharply, not wanting to imagine what Steve has planned or which line he will cross to get what he wants.

“Steve, Director. Did you have a look at her file? Did you know she got shot shortly after Rumlow Sen. kicked her out?” Pointing at the picture in the folder Sam glares at Steve.

“Steve, you are my friend, my partner but I will not stand at the sideline and cheer for you while you abuse this girl. She went to enough shit in her young life!”

“This could all be a cover, Sam. Maybe Rumlow’s father wanted a doctor to take care of his men. She leaves the family, studies freely and comes back anytime he needs her to fix a wound.” Steve tries to reason with Sam, but his friend won’t have it.

“If you believe this sweet girl has anything to do with the mob, you are a lousy cop for sure. Steve you are blinded by rage and guilt. I know it should’ve been you going undercover and bring Rumlow down. Bucky jumped in as you were with Peggy at that time.”

Sam closes the files, shoving it toward his friend. “Before you hurt that girl and cross a line, you should have a close look at her file and the life she’s living.”

Tapping his fingers onto the folder Sam sighs. “Until you tell me that you won’t use her, I am out of this. I’ll take a few days off. I can’t believe you want to use her to get Rumlow. She means nothing to that bastard, you know that.”

Grabbing the door handle Sam looks over his shoulder, giving Steve a cracked smile.

“You desperately try to fix what happened to Bucky, but that’s impossible. All we can do is doing our job but not the way you want to do it. For me the bad guys are bad, the good guys are good. Sometimes we have shades of grey, but you, my friend will turn darker than black if you act like Rumlow…” The door slams shut behind Sam and for the first time, Steve doubts his plan.

“You should meet up with the girl, try to poke her a bit. Maybe she will tell you something useful, maybe not.” Fury glances at the information Sam gathered. “Wilson may be right, Steve. Keep it low. If she has no contact, leave her alone.”

“It’s only a coffee, Nick. I saved her life and she wanted to thank me.” Rubbing his bearded chin Steve remembers the way you felt against him. He can still smell your shampoo and his mind wanders to your hands on his chest. “I will not marry her to bring Rumlow down.”

“Good, that’s good.” Fury doesn’t like the way Steve stars at a picture of you. “We don’t need anyone suing us for seducing an innocent girl.”

“You look amazing, doll.” Steve can’t take his eyes off you. Wearing a dress looking straight as if you jumped out of a 40’s advertisement, matching heels and your hair in curls you look like you put a lot of effort into impressing him.

“I don’t know…” You are not as self-confident as the women Steve usually goes for. Flustered you tug at the seem of your dress, doubting your appearance.

“Wanda insisted I have to wear a dress on a date. I…I think I am overdressed…Sorry…”

“Never apologize for looking beautiful, Y/N. I mean…” Licking his lips Steve rakes his eyes over your body, admiring the swell of your breasts and the tiny scar at your left knee.

“I am bad at stuff like that. I only have one dress…” Shrugging you smile as Steve pulls the chair for you. “Thank you…”

“My pleasure…” Steve slowly doubts he can stay professional. He needs to remind himself this is an investigation, not a date with a pretty girl. “What do you want to drink?”

“Is tea okay? I am not into coffee that much…” Giggling you can see the look your savior gives you. “I didn’t want to tell you when you asked me for coffee…”

“Noted, doll. You don’t like coffee, but you like tea and cats…” Smirking Steve leans closer, brushing his fingertips over your hand on the table. “Anything else I need to know, Y/N?”

“Uh—I don’t know…” Wrinkling your forehead you don’t know if you can tell Steve you only have Wanda in your life. “I am a loner, I guess…” Rubbing your hand over your dress you try to calm your racing heart.

 Steve looks at you with those ocean blue eyes and you are sure Wanda was right. You will fall for him for sure …

“Loner? Such a lovely young lady?” Steve squeezes your hand and your breath hitches in your throat. “What about good friends…?”

“I only have Wanda. Her mom and mine were friends when we were little. After my mom died, I had no one left and Wanda’s mom, she offered me shelter.” Ashamed you dare not to meet Steve’s eyes. “I was grateful, but it was cramped for sure.”

“I see…I am sorry for your loss.” Nodding you give Steve a cracked smile. “My mom, she…gosh…” Rubbing your forehead nervously you glance at Steve.

“You can tell me anything, doll. I work as a social worker.” Steve starts lying to you the moment you opened up to him. He knows that you will tell him anything if you trust him enough.

“She loved me, but she loved drugs more…” Blurring out the truth you believe Steve will run for the hills now, instead, he takes your hand to kiss your knuckles softly.

“I tried to help her but my stepfather…he’s not a good man.” Sniffling you swallow hard. “Here I am babbling about my life.”

“That’s quite alright, Y/N. I like to listen to you. Maybe you want to tell me more, one day.” Steve waves at the waiter, knowing he shouldn’t push you right now. “Don’t hold back, Sweetie…”

“You are nice, Steve but I don’t want to bore you with my stories. How about you tell me something about you?” Blinking a few times Steve looks at your lips, licking his own before the spell gets broken by the waiter taking your orders.

“I am a simple boy from Brooklyn. Honestly, I hate that I had to leave it for work.” Nodding you lean closer, listening to Steve’s words. “Where are you originally from?”

“You will laugh…” Giggling you look around the café. “I would never laugh about you, Y/N.” Covering your hand Steve searches your face as you lean closer.

“Minnesota. A sleepy town called Biwabik.” Steve’s brows furrow. According to your file, you are born and raised in New York.

“Interesting.” Rubbing circles into your skin Steve searches your face for any kind of lie. “How was life in Biwabik?”

“I can’t remember, Steve. I was like three when mom moved to New York, dreaming of a career at the Broadway…and shit…” Covering your mouth with your hand you mumble an apology. “Sorry, I tend to curse while remembering my mom and our life…”

“Broadway…huh? She was an actress or a singer?” You picked Steve’s interest and he pushes your buttons to get more information. Anything he can use against Brock or find out more about you.

“Nah, she wanted to become a costume designer. She had talent, tho…” Watching the waiter place your orders you thank him before you clear your throat. “But before she had the chance, she caught the wrong man’s attention and…”

“Your stepfather?”

“I think that’s enough about past dreams and my mom’s life. How about I tell you about kitty?” Chuckling Steve hides he’s impatient to get to know more about what happened to your mother and your connection to the Rumlow’s but again…he needs to slow down.

“Right! How is the little furball?”

“I adopted her, Steve. She eats for two and …” Squealing you give Steve a wink. “I’ll be a mom soon…”

Steve chokes on his coffee, and his eyes immediately land on your stomach. His hopes shattered he takes his hand off yours. “You’re going to be a mom soon…”

“Yeah! According to the veterinarian, kitty is pregnant. I’ll have more than one kitten soon…” Smiling you take a bite of your cake and Steve nods, hiding the relive washing over him.

“Kitten…that’s great, Y/N. I am more a dog guy, but cats are cute.” Now you narrow your eyes, glaring at Steve.

“I think, we shouldn’t see each other again.” The words floating out of your mouth make Steve’s heart drop. For a moment he forgot this is all fake.

“If you can’t admit you love my kitty, you are not the right guy for me…oh…crap…” Hiding your face in your hands you curse yourself.

“Hmm…I like kitty, Y/N. Maybe I can visit her next time?” Next time, Steve said next time and your heart starts to flutter. “We could have dinner at this nice Italian restaurant I know in Brooklyn.”

Steve offered you his jacket as he walks you home. One arm slung around your shoulders he debates to see you again or just check if Sam was right about you.

But investigating your past with your help will be way easier…right? Lost in his thoughts he barely recognized you stopped in front of your apartment complex. Your look up at him, innocently and he can’t help himself.

Before his mind can stop him, he cups your cheek and presses his lips to yours. It’s the perfect kiss to you and you melt against Steve.

“Doll…I had fun. I’d like to see you again…”

“I’d like that too, Steve…” Shrugging his jacket of you smile one last time at him before you unlock the door. Like a gentleman Steve watches you close the door.

He can’t see you press your back against the door, sighing. You feel like you are walking on air and know for sure. You are falling hard for Steve and you don’t even know his surname…

Steve waits for a while, sending Fury a message while two pairs of eyes watch him slowly turn to enter his car.

“I want to know everything about that guy, like yesterday.” Brock clenches his jaw, slams his hands onto the steering wheel as he must watch Steve drive away while you look out of the window, smiling.

“We won’t get her back if she has a relationship and friends she can rely on.”

“All I can say is that she met him after work and that he saved her life. According to my sister, she’s head over heels for him, boss. Maybe it’s better this way…”

Gun pointed to his head Pietro falls silent. “I’ll try to find out more, boss but Wanda doesn’t know I work for you, she can never know…”

“We have a deal. Fulfill your part and I’ll keep my word…”

All works Tags

@yolobloggers​​​​​​, @meganywinchester​​​​​​​, @shikshinkwon​​​​​​​, @miraclesoflove​​​​​​ ​, @mogaruke​​​​​​, @shatteredabby​​​​​​, @soryuwifeyxx​​​​​​, @letsdisneythings​​​​​​, @i-love-superhero​​​​​, @psychicforest​​​​​​, @thevelvetseries​​​​​, @deanmonandnegansbitch​​​​​, @sabascio​​​​​, @goodgodimaweirdperson​​​​, @that-place-called-middle-earth​​​, @the-broken-angel-13​​​, @trumpettay​​, @zxph-yr​​

Love Undercover Tags

@aubageddon91​​, @an-awkward-human-1​​, @the-soulofdevil​​, @s-t-r-i-k-e-us​​, @taylortheeshowpony​​, @captainchrisstan​

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore​​, @notyourtypicalrose​​, @voltage-my2dlove​​, @thedoctorscamanion, @officialmarvelwhore​​, @randomgirlkensy​​, @juniorhuntersam​​, @lumar014​​, @doctorswife221b​​, @sister-winchesters99​​, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​​, @the-soulofdevil​​, @chonisberonica​​ , @redroomproperty​​, @natura1phenomenon​​, @chaoticfiretaconerd​​, @heartislubbingdubbing​​, @hhiggs​, @sea040561​​ , @midnightsilver16830​​, @rvgrsbrns​

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags

@roonyxx​, @stylesismyhubs​, @multisuperfandom​, @mrspeacem1nusone​, @shadowcatsworld , @fallenoutofrose​, @rynabarnesrogers​, @denisemarieangelina​, @gabifernandessn​, @heyiamthatbitch​

[jj-lynn21]

SUMMER BURN: starring Bill Skarsgard as Brian Chapter 2

Warnings: attacker play(?), heavy flirtation

@dragsraksllib @super-pink-a-palouza @grandpa-sweaters 

read Ch 1 first

“Did you scare another hottie away?” Jess smirked.

I rolled my eyes turning away from her.  

Jess sat down at the bar. All she had to do is bat her eyes at the bar tender for him to come right over to her with a big mischievous grin. She ordered bloody Maries for her and the other girls leaving me out since I obviously was not talking to her. In her mind it was all over some random guy. For me, it was because I had enough of her so-called jokes.  

“Tell us about the guy you met?” Melissa and Tami asked me in unison as Jess flirted with the bar tender.  

I laughed. “He was the same guy we saw on the beach. His name is Brian. He is kind of scary. In a good way. You know? Like give me shivers. The beard and hair were part of his job. Maybe an investigator or something. He didn’t tell me.”

“That is weird.” Melissa pointed out. “Maybe he disguises himself so he can stalk his prey?”

“People do get paid good money to be hired killers.” Tami chimed in.  

The three of us laughed drawing the attention of Jess. “So, what is so funny?”  

“We were just trying to figure out what the guy on the beach does for a living.” Tami giggled.

“We decided professional killer since his hair and beard were fake,” Mellissa was laughing.

“What the hell?” Jess glared at them. “How did you find out it was fake?”

“He was the same guy I was talking to when you walked up.” Then I warned her jokingly. “If he is a psychopath or killer for hire you better watch out and maybe the bar tender should to.” Then I laughed along with Tami and Melissa about the absurdity of the thought.  

The bar tender whispered to Jess as his replacement for the afternoon arrived. She nodded in agreement. “This whole vibe.” She waved her hand over us. “Is a little twisted for my taste.” The bar tender took her hand. She walked off with him. “Maybe I will see you crazy girls at the bonfire or perhaps not.”  

“I think she is the crazy one.” Melissa said when Jess was far enough away. “I can’t believe she ditched us on girls day again. So, what should we do next?” She looked to me for guidance because when Jess was gone Melissa and Tami thought of me as their leader to find the next fun thing to do.  

Tami chimed in. “No pressure but there is 5 hours before we need to get ready for the bonfire. You are so good at picking fun things to do.”

No pressure my ass, I thought. “We finish these drinks and swim. Then go skating on the board walk for a while. I think I saw an outdoor seafood restaurant. You know what today is don’t you?

“Taco Tuesday!” They yelled with great glee.  

While frolicking in the surf; when skating down the board walk; even at lunch I couldn’t push the feeling away that I was being watched by eyes unseen. I tried to shrug it off. I even told the girls, “I think Jess is watching us after her date was a bust, but she is too afraid to join in the fun I created so let’s just have more fun to show her we don’t always need her.”

They nodded and the three of us let out a loud “Wooooo” as we clinked pina coladas. After lunch I suggested they head back to the hotel. I would return the skates, then meet them at the hotel. “Jess will more than likely be there around the same time since she is stalking us.”  

They agreed.  

When I got back to the room that had two queen beds and a pullout couch looking out on the ocean from the 10th floor, Tami and Melissa informed me Jess never came back. There was not even a sign of her coming back to change for the bonfire. She would still be in her little bikini with the terry cloth jumper over it unless the bar tender bought her a new dress and under garments which has happened before.

“Well, I guess we have fun without her until she joins us later.” I shrugged smirking matter-of-factly. “She has ditches us for a guy before. She will have to come back for her belongings before we check out.”

They seemed a little more worried than I but agreed with everything I said. They were followers like that. They did not want to lose another group member by speaking up about their concerns. It was their flaw to bare.

It was a perfect night for a bon fire. Just a little chill to the air. I wore a wrap around my shoulder with my white multi-colored flower sundress. My hair in a ponytail with a hot pink ribbon around it. I topped off the look with white wedges and red cherry lip stick instead of the pink I was wearing during the day. The dress fit me nicely if I do say so myself. It fit my curves making my cleavage pop. The girls wore similar outfits. We were roasting marshmellows when surprise guests showed up.

“Well, isn’t it the most beautiful girl on the beach.” A male voice quipped.

“No, No, No.” The other spoke boastfully. “My girl is the most beautiful girl on the beach.”

Tami jumped excited to see her boyfriend. “Peter, you’re here!”

Mellissa followed suit jumping on her man as he chuckled struggling to hold her so quickly. “Brad, you know it is supposed to be girls night.” She bopped him on the nose with the tip of her finger. “But I guess I will forgive you this time.”

“We were not looking for you, I promise.” Brad kissed Mellissa’s nose.

“Yeah, we were having a guys night and just wondered down to the bon fire with a bag of smore stuff but if you want us to leave...”

“No, give up the chocolate.” Melissa grabbed for it as her boyfriend held it up out of her reach

I mumbled. “There goes girls night.” Popped a cooled half burnt marshmallow in my mouth and got up.  

“Uh hey there you.” Peter nodded his chin for a hello. My friends' boyfriends hadn’t bothered learning my name even after I dated some of their cousins. I barely cared. They would not last. They didn’t even call Tami and Melissa by their names. Again, I assumed it was low IQ and not planning on sticking around long. “Sorry, we didn’t bring a third for you.”

“For your information I do have a date tonight.” I walked off down the beach after that. “They were so annoying assuming I would never find anyone on my own.” I grumbled as I walked.

The sparkling sand was cool at night, so I took off my shoes off to carry as I toed the sand down towards the edge of the ocean.  Part of me wanted to keep walking into the waves that now crashed on my feet. But I am startled when a large hand grabs mine. So much that I jump turning quickly. “Oh, you startled me.”  

I looked up with a smile to Brian, my hand still on his chest since I planned to try to push my possible attacker away.

“Sorry, I startled you.” He took my hand kissing the top gently. “Forgive me?” His big green eyes begged forgiveness perhaps more than his words. “I was worried for you when I saw you walking along the water alone.”

“I can take care of myself in the dark.” I smirked. “You were a half a second from getting my shoes smacked across your face.”

He lifted a eyebrow in question. “Is that so? What if your attacker did this?” He grabbed both my wrist tightly and swept me to the ground in a blink of an eye. “Now what do you do?”

My body pinned under the heat of his body. Arms pinned above my head. The sand rough under me. “I don’t know whether to kiss you right now or knee you in the balls like I would a true attacker.”

Brian grinned as he looked down at me. He loosened his grip on my wrists. His eyes piecing mine. “I left you that move like most would, to see if you would go for it.”

“I would.” I murmured as I pulled my hands free catching him off-guard, I flipped him on his back pinning his wrists legs wrapped around his to keep him bound to my will now. The surprise in his big eyes was perfect. “Or I could do this if they were dumb enough to loosen their grip on my wrists.”

He chuckled laying there without a struggle. “My next question is, do you still want to kiss me?”

My answer came when my lips bushed against his. That is when he struggled to get his hands free. I was using all my strength to hold them.  

“Please.” He murmured between light kisses. His nose nuzzling mine playfully. “I want to run my hands alone your back to....”

“To get the upper hand?” You giggled nuzzling his nose back before kissing him more deeply.

“I surrender.” He sang breathlessly. “You win. I tap out. Game over.”

I stood doing a little victory dance shimmying and shaking my hips. Brian stood up behind me like a tower brushing the sand off him. Then grab my hips slowly sliding his body closer behind me. He started kissing my neckline. I stopped swaying with a audible “mmmm”.and took a deep breath.

“I thought you were the shy girl when your friend needed to encourage you to do more than just stare at me. But you are so much more than that little lady. You have hidden skills.”

“I’m only shy before I meet new people.” You smiled looking up at him very comfortable leaning against his body. “My skills come out when I need them without a thought. Did I hurt you?”

“No, it was hot as fuck.” He blurted. “Sorry, I don’t usually throw around F-bombs on first dates. What do you want to do tonight? I take it you are to mature for the collage drunks burning themselves on smores.” He spins yu away from  him. 

You spin back to him laughing. “There is no way I want to join them. It's never my scene but I usually make sure my drunk friends get home or in this case back to the hotel. Their boyfriends showed up so they can just sleep together on the beach if that is how their night ends. Their loyalties are always fickle.”

“If you are hungry, I know a place that is more for polite young adults instead of heathens.” He suggested as you walked down the beach. “Are you game?”

“That sound like a great change of pace.” You looped your hand threw his.  

He gave it light squeeze while leading you off the beach to the main strip parking area. He opened the trunk of his SUV with just his toe under the bumper. “You look perfect, but I need a suit to get in this place I want to take you. The condo I am at is sever miles off the strip. I think you are staying closer. Can I just change there?”

“Oh, so this is how you get me to take you upstair?” I smirked playfully.

“Not yet.” Brian winked. “I actually enjoy the art of getting to know people once in a while. If you are uncomfortable, we can go back to my place so I can change. I rather not do that without you and travel all the way back here to pick you up. Restaurant would be closed by then.”  

I thought he had a good answer for everything. “You can change at our messy hotel room. Come on.” You grabbed the suit covered in plastic on a hanger neatly so he would follow, after shutting his SUV trunk. He did.  

You opened the door without looking around letting him in first. “I warn you it was a mess.”  

“It's not that bad for four girls staying here.” He looked around. “Bathroom for me to change?”

I finally really looked at the place. All Jess’ things were gone and the clothes that were tossed all over the room were on all the beds but mine. Any sign of Jess was gone. I thought, Did she really ditch a girls weekend to run off with some bar tender?

[my-emotional-self]

His Cinderella

Pairings: Chris x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Unloving Parents, Fluff

Request: I’d love to request a Chris x Reader story from you! I’m always on a Cinderella kick so I would love something fluffy where Chris is charmed by your wallflower/shy personality at some kind of event where you’re dressed up and feeling out of place. He’s with you for hours, laughing and dancing, letting you forget about your ungrateful family who can’t know you’re there.  But when you flee, Chris gets your number and name.  

Requested By: @brastrangled

“Oh come on Y/N. Please??  Pretty pretty please??” your best friend begged from the other end of the phone as you sat on your bed.  

“You know I can’t do that Sarah.  You know how my parents are,” you replied with a sigh.  

Sarah groaned into the phone.  “Trust me. I know how your parents are.  I still can’t get over the fact that they treat you like you are ten years old.”

It was true, your parents definitely didn’t treat you like your age, which was 24 years old.  Your whole life it felt like they didn’t want you at all.  But you knew your mother couldn’t get an abortion as her own parents would have removed her from their wills.  

The only reason you were putting up with it now was because they were paying for all of your schooling; which was also another thing your grandparents made sure to put in their wills before dying.  

As long as you lived at home during your schooling and did all the chores around the house, you got to live there rent free and your school fully paid for and to be honest, you couldn’t complain.  People drowned in debt from college these days and to be able to have all your degrees and not pay a dime, it was something you could live with for a little while longer.  

Normally most people would be done with school by now, but you were going for your Master’s degree in Psychology so you still had a little bit longer to go.  

“Y/N!” there was a loud bang on your door before your mother opening it, grimacing at you.  “Your father and I are going out tonight to a charity event in upstate.  It won’t end until late and the earliest we will be home is 1 am.  Get the house cleaned up.”  She slammed your door shut, the loud noise making you jump.  

“Well that solves that issue,” Sarah said and you could hear the smile on her face.  

~~~

Sarah came over to the large penthouse apartment you lived at with your parents on the Upper East side of New York; two garment bags in hand.  Luckily, your younger twin sisters were going with your parents.  They were both 18 years old and your parents loved them dearly; showering them with lavish gifts, but most of all, love. They were both bratty towards you and they were the worst part of living at home.  

“Tell me how you got us into this again?” you asked as the two of you worked together at cleaning the house before getting ready.  

“Well, it was my cousins boyfriends best friend who managed to snack two extra tickets.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the depths your best friend went through to get these tickets.  At the same time, you didn’t even know exactly what this party was you were going to.  All you knew was that it was black tie affair, and that there would be celebrities there.  Luckily it was taking place on the Upper East side so you would be close to home in case you needed to rush back quickly.  

Once the cleaning was finished, Sarah helped you get ready by doing your hair and makeup.  You were never one for getting dolled up and fancy, mainly because your parents practically kept you a secret and never let you go to any fancy charities or dinners with them and their friends, so you had no need for it.  Also, your parents didn’t really let you out of the house at all, except for school. It wasn’t a secret you knew they were ashamed of you, all because they had you at the young age of 16.  They weren’t the greatest parents, but you knew you could have had worse.  At least they paid for your schooling and you had shelter, food and clothing all for free. Just a little while longer and you would be out of their hair for good.  

Once Sarah was done, you looked in the mirror, not even recognizing yourself.  Your eyes popped with the mascara and eyeshadow; your lips a beautiful deep red color.  “Wow,” you breathed out as you stared at yourself in the mirror.  

“I know.  You’re hot,” Sarah smirked at her work of art.  “We are going to find you a man tonight!”

~~~

The Uber ride was short to the party as your hands began to fidget in your lap.  You were wearing a long one strapped black evening gown.  It hugged your chest and waist and flowed out from the hips and down to your feet.  You had to give Sarah props as she knew your exact dress size; it fit like a glove.  

Getting inside the party was rather easy as you only had to show your I.D and your ticket.  Looking around the large ballroom your mouth hung open at how beautifully it was decorated.  There was a large crystal chandelier right in the middle and dozens of round tables littered the floor for people to sit and eat.  

There was a full open bar off to the right side of the room, and to the left was a D.J setting up in front of the dance floor.  

“Come on, let’s go get us a drink,” Sarah said, pulling you towards the bar.  

~~~

The two of you had been there nearly an hour and you looked down to check the time on your phone.  It was nine at night and you knew you couldn’t leave any later than 12:30 if you wanted to make it home before your parents. You were unsure of what type of punishment you would endure and you didn’t want to find out.  

Most of the time they would take away your phone, or even your laptop which made researching and studying for school extremely difficult.  If you were to fail a class, it only meant more time having to live at home with your parents and you certainly didn’t want to do that.  

Looking at the dance floor you saw Sarah dancing with a guy she had just met.  She left you about fifteen minutes ago, saying she was going out for a quick dance with the hottie but would be right back.  You had a feeling you wouldn’t see her the rest of the night.  

Sipping on your champagne, you sat alone at the bar, feeling ready to just give up and go home.  This was supposed to be a fun night out for you, especially because you never get to have any of these nights.  You felt completely out of place surrounded by all these beautiful people; inside, you felt like Cinderella.  

“Hello,” a smooth sexy voice spoke from behind you.  

Turning around, you couldn’t help but notice it was Chris Evans.  You had never met a celebrity at all, but you knew how some people acted when they were around those who were famous.  To you, they were just people who happened to be in the spotlight and you knew they didn’t deserve to be treated any differently.  

But again, this was Chris Evans and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have a slight crush on him. He was standing tall in a black suit with a white undershirt; a cute black bowtie strapped around his neck. His beard was trimmed to perfection and his blue eyes were gazing intently at you.  

“H-hi,” you stammered out, feeling yourself begin to blush.  

He cleared his throat and took a glance down at the drink in his hand.  “I couldn’t help notice that you’ve been sitting here for a while by yourself.  I figured a beautiful woman shouldn’t be by herself at an event like this so I wanted to come over and introduce myself.”

His voice was smooth like butter, ringing through your ears like music.  You had heard people say before how nice and genuine a person Chris was, and now you could see it for yourself.  

“Oh, umm-that was really nice of you.  I’m actually here with my best friend, but she seemed to ditch me for someone to dance with,” you shyly spoke.  

“Well would you mind if I take a seat and keep you company?”

You turned to look back up at him, a smile forming on your lips.  “I’d like that.”

For the next hour, the two of you talked easily.  Chris couldn’t help but adore your shy personality in front of him and he truly enjoyed talking with you.  

“Hey, do you maybe wanna dance?” he asked, motioning to the dance floor as a slow song came on.  

Your heart began to race, but you knew you would never have an opportunity like this again.  Nodding your head, he took your hand in his and led the way to the dance floor.  

The song was a slow beat as he placed one hand in yours, the other placed gently on your lower back; your free hand cupping the back of his smooth neck.  

You were grateful that he took the lead as you didn’t know how to dance; you were hoping you wouldn’t mess up too bad.  “You’re a really good dancer,” you spoke quietly, nervously chewing on your inside cheek.  

Chris smiled, letting out a small laugh.  “My mom taught me.  In fact she taught all of my siblings how to dance.  I even learned how to tap dance when I was younger.”

“Is there any chance we will be seeing those dance moves tonight?” you teased.

His laughter was infections as his head dipped back.  “Not tonight I’m afraid.  I don’t think too many people would want to see that.”

“Too bad.  Maybe another time then?”

His grin turned into a full faced smile, in turn making you smile as well.  “I think that could be arranged.”

You both continued to sway together, keeping the conversation going.  

At one point, the music was stopped and the D.J came across the microphone.  “We would like to remind you that it will be last call at the bar as it closes in 30 minutes.”

“Damn, I can’t believe how late it has gotten.  Time sure has flown by,” Chris spoke directly in your ear as the music was once again turned up.  

Your eyes widened as you let go of him from your dancing position and grabbed your phone out of your little clutch purse.  Lighting it up, you noticed it was 12:25 in the morning.  

“Shit!” you cried out in panic.  Looking up at Chris, you saw his eyes were wide.  “I have to go.  I’m sorry.” With spending your entire night with Chris, you had completely lost track of time and you also forgot about your overbearing parents; it honestly felt like you lived a normal life for once.

“Wait, is everything alright?” he asked but it was too later, you were already bunching your dress up and trying to squeeze through the guests to get out of there and back home.

By the time you made it to the front door of the ballroom, you felt a soft hand grab your arm. “Please wait,” Chris said with worry.

“I’m really sorry Chris. But I have to leave right now.”

“I didn’t even get your name.”

“Y/N.  My name is Y/N,” you responded, feeling your heart begin to cease its racing just while being in his presence again.  

“It’s a beautiful name. Do you-do you think I could get your number Y/N?”  You could tell there was a nervous twinge to his voice and you thought it adorable. Giving him a nod, he handed you his cell phone and you punched in your number quickly before handing it back to him.

Feeling rather daring, you reached up on your toes and gave him a quick kiss to his cheek. A smile formed on his handsome face at your gesture and in a moment’s time, you were running out the door to get back home.  

Tag List: @badassbaker @guera31 @tanelle83 @chrisevansfanfic @xjjlex @princess-evans-addict @joannie95 @pumbibaby @patzammit @brastrangled @mrs-captain-evans @notyourtypicalrose @sfreeborn @esoltis280 @xxloki81xx @bornfortherainydays @poerebel @livslookingforloki @raveviolet

[whenimaunicorn]

Nothing Good Comes After Midnight

Fandom: Wynonna Earp Characters: Bobo Del Rey, Original Female Character Rating: Explicit, please don’t read if you’re not 18+ Words: 2909

I didn’t have an exit strategy. In fact, as I stared back into his heavy gaze, I realized that I didn’t particularly want one. Wynonna thought that she could just ditch me for an idiot guy tonight… well I found my own idiot. Without breaking eye contact, I lifted the straw in my drink up to my mouth and took a good long sip while starting to ride Bobo’s lap to the beat.

Full Fic:

Fuck Purgatory and their not-having an open container law. I would have left, after realizing my friend had just ditched me to go home with her ex while I was in the bathroom, but I had ordered one more expensive cocktail before I checked my phone and got her drunken message. While I was pissed to be left alone at the bar, there was no way I was leaving without drinking what I’d paid for.

But I could feel the sharks circling in the water behind me. It was late enough in the night that any young woman alone on a barstool was gonna get mobbed. The first two guys buzzed off fairly easily after I straight-up growled at them, and then the front door slammed open.

There was something familiar about the scruffy, biker-looking guys that strutted in. Their eyes raked over the whole place, seeming unimpressed with all of us. I definitely knew the guy that walked in after them. Bobo Del Rey, the most fearsome revenant around. He was basically my friend Wynonna’s arch-enemy. There was no mistaking that thick, mohawk-cut hair, those steely eyes, the hulking presence. Did I say arch-enemy? More like arch-hottie.

And he saw me. His goons had failed to remember me and my associations, but the boss-man didn’t miss anything. He gave me a glare that could have meant any number of things, then walked with his crew over to an empty table at the back.

I thought that sense of ‘blood in the water’ was strong before. The back of my neck practically prickled now, though every time I turned to look over at Bobo, he wasn’t paying any particular attention to me at all. One of his boys had grabbed a bucket of beers and they were all just kind of sitting around. Creepy.

He was throwing me off my carefully composed “back the fuck off before I get stabby-stabby” vibes, too. Some sloppily-dressed man with an unkempt ponytail was sprawled over the barstool next to me, babbling and thinking he was getting somewhere.

“It’s a real anaconda, baby, you gotta come back to my place and see it,” he slurred into my ear. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about his dick or an actual snake; I had definitely not been paying any attention to him.

When he finally began to comprehend my lack of interest, he got mean. “What, you think you can do better than me tonight? You can’t be waiting for someone.”

My eyes slipped over to Bobo’s corner, involuntarily.

“Him?”

Something snapped inside me at his tone. “You know what? Yeah. Him.” I snatched my drink off the counter, still mostly full thanks to everyone’s inability to leave me alone and let me fucking enjoy it, and started stalking right over toward the gang of revenants.

Bobo’s eyes tracked me as I strode across the room. The jukebox was playing a wild woman anthem, the beat bold and infectious, and it put some swing into my hips. I let it. Didn’t I deserve to have some kind of fun tonight? Maybe make a bad decision too?

One of Bobo’s thugs made an aggressive posture at my approach, starting to stand, but the boss stilled him with a hand. They knew I was part of Wynonna’s crew. But as I had hoped, tonight Mr. Del Rey didn’t seem to care. He stared at me from under heavy brows and waved me on to approach him with a sharp flick of his wrist.

There were no seats left empty at his table, so I had to ask. “Can I sit with you?”

Bobo looked me up and down, with a sly little twist to his lip. “Maybe if you sit on my dick,” he growled.

Another bubble of irritated energy popped inside me. I stepped right up to him and swung my leg over his lap before my better self could catch up. And by then, I was committed. Bobo’s notched brows climbed to his hairline as I plopped down straddling his hips. I’d call his fucking bluff. I ground myself against his crotch in tight, exaggerated circles. “Oh yeah? Where is it? Can’t seem to find anything.”

Bobo snarled. His hands came down on both my hips, fingers curling hard. But instead of throwing me off, he took control of my movements and rocked me against him a few times more, slower and more in time to the music. “Keep moving like that, darlin’, and it’ll hit you.”

I didn’t have an exit strategy. In fact, as I stared back into his heavy gaze, I realized that I didn’t particularly want one. Wynonna thought that she could just ditch me for an idiot guy tonight… well I found my own idiot. Without breaking eye contact, I lifted the straw in my drink up to my mouth and took a good long sip while starting to ride Bobo’s lap to the beat.

His pupils dilated as he watched me, as he felt me. His fingers slid slowly along my rocking hips. I tried to play it cool, sipping on my drink and glancing around the room, a little overwhelmed by the sizzle in his gaze. That, and the heat building up between my own legs. I’m not ashamed to say that when my clit rubbed up against some stiff fold in his pants I repeated the angle, working myself up even as I felt something start to poke against my inner thigh.

“Last call!” a gruff voice shouted over the noise of the bar. “Last call for alcohol.”

Bobo’s smile turned conspiratorial, then he looked past me. “How about a round of shots, Lou.” One of the thugs got up and pushed his way up to the suddenly-crowded bar.

“So, Y/N. You’ve certainly got my attention.” He shifted underneath me, and with a quick swipe of his hand the hard line that had been forming along Bobo’s thigh was moved to a more central location. With his grip on my hips he coaxed me to settle back down over it. I was glad I had chosen such thin pants to wear out tonight; I could feel every inch of him against my whole slit now, and goddamn did it feel good. “So, what’s your plan.”

“Hm?” I gave him a questioning look.

“Your little crew is always up to something.” He leaned his forehead in closer to my own, looking hard even though his fingers were playful along the hem of my shirt. “Is this the newest attempt to pump ol’ Bobo for information?”

A grin cracked my face. “Play your cards right, and I’ll be pumping you for something,” I cackled. Just couldn’t resist that opening. The laugh turned to a nervous giggle as Bobo’s face remained stoic. “No,” I amended swiftly, “nothing like that.”

“Good, because I don’t appreciate tricks.”

I leaned in, the spiking sense of danger only adding spice to the erotic charge in this corner of the bar. “I’m just a girl having a bad night, trying to figure out how to make it a little bit better.”

Bobo’s smile was slow and thick. “Mmm,” he purred as he brushed his nose along my cheek, “I can think of a few things that might help with that.”

I tilted my chin and that was all the invitation he needed to press his lips into mine. His beard was softer than I expected, sliding across my cheek before his tongue parted my lips. Bobo tasted like dark chocolate, charcoal, and mistakes that still feel kind of worth it in the morning. One of his hands spread across the back of my neck, holding me close, while the other slipped underneath my shirt. I responded by popping open the button on his jeans.

When the bartender says ‘last call,’ you don’t waste time.

The bottom of my shirt was shoved up over my tits when Lou came back with the shots. Bobo’s fingers were playing with the scalloped lace of my plunge-line bra. I tried to cover back up before turning to accept my shot glass, but Bobo’s hands curled over my own. “Let the boys have a little show,” he rumbled.

My nipples hardened at the dirty glory of the idea. I leaned back from my position on Bobo’s lap, letting my smile hang wide and sloppy as I twisted with my rack hanging out of my shirt and reached out for my drink.

Lou’s eyes were hungry. So were the rest of the boys, grinning like circling sharks as they watched the debauchery playing out in their boss’s lap. It was equal parts hot and frightening.

“Bottoms up,” Bobo said, drawing my attention back to him. The amber liquid flowed easily down my throat; it was shitty whiskey but when you hang out with Wynonna you kind of become a pro at knocking back cheap shots. Bobo’s lips were wet and I leaned in to lick the last of the burning liquor off of them.

The friction between our hips was getting unbearable, and between the gaze of ‘the boys’ and the fresh alcohol tingling through my limbs, I was dying to move. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” I purred into Bobo’s ear, then nipped his earlobe for good measure. We couldn’t do much more than we already had without getting kicked out of the bar, anyway.

“You got it, darlin’,” he drawled, and then seized the bottom of my ass with both hands. I felt his muscles clench gloriously between my thighs and then he was standing, with me still wrapped around his waist and squealing in delight. “Excuse me boys, I’ve gotta step out and take care of something.”

We made it halfway down the alley at the side of the building before Bobo pressed me into the wall and started assaulting my mouth and neck again. I felt the press of his erection under my suspended thighs and this time I regretted the choice of pants, rather than a skirt. How glorious it would have felt if he could just sink in to me right the fuck now.

He pawed at the barrier between us, as much as he could while still holding me up off the ground, and then made a frustrated groan. He put me down and before I could even get my balance, turned me to face the wall. One big hand slid down inside my pants, cupping my ass, fingers questing deeper between my legs. “You want me right now?” he all but snarled.

“Fuuuck,” I hissed as his fingertips pressed between my slick inner labia. He made a wordless noise with a similar tone as he played with the wetness I had ready for him there.

Two fingers found their way deeper, penetrating into needy flesh and making it hard for me to remember language was a thing that I could use to answer his question. I pressed myself over his hand and moaned, my own palms pressed against the cold concrete of the wall just so I could keep my balance. “Yeah.”

Bobo finger-fucked me a little harder, then slowed. “Yeah, what?” He nipped at my ear and I could see the flash of white teeth set in a smirk in the moonlight.

I squirmed over his hand. “Yeah, I want you.”

He loomed over me even more. “Want me to what.” His fingers pistoned and I let myself moan like a whore, egging him on.

“Want you to fuck me, Bobo Del Rey.”

“Good girl.” He wrenched my pants down past my knees, bit the side of my ass hard while he was down there, and got his erection of out of his pants faster than I would have thought possible. The line of his body came to cover mine against the wall, and he nipped the back of my neck like a dominant animal while he lined his hardness up against my cunt.

Bobo was thick enough that he didn’t exactly slide in easy. He kicked my feet apart, as wide as they could go with my pants still around my ankles, and pressed me to bend over until I was presented to him properly. Then he worked himself in, every inch a delicious stretch that overwhelmed the rest of my senses. “Fuck, Bobo!” I squealed. 

His big hand clamped over my mouth.

“Don’t call attention,” he growled, and kept his hand there to muffle my screams as he rutted into me faster, more thoroughly. It was all I could do to press my hands into the wall against his pressure and try to keep my cheek from slamming into it as he fucked me within an inch of my life.

He could hear just enough of my whimpering cries under his smothering palm to notice when I was getting close to coming. I needed only a little something more to get there.

He let up the intensity just a fraction, so he could take his hand off my mouth. “Stay quiet now, baby girl,” he said, and reached down to find my clitoris.

It was clumsy, but it was all that I really needed. I swallowed a moan or two as he resumed the punishing pace with his cock, now driving my hips into the counterpressure of his strong fingers on that magic button. My orgasm boiled up fast and hard and I held my breath for the entire duration, not trusting myself not to scream at the joy of it.

I went a little limp when it was over, gulping in air with ragged breaths while Bobo continued to rut into me. The aftershocks were making my whole body sizzle. With a sudden hiss, the villain pulled out and pushed me down to my knees.

I turned willingly enough, sure that I knew what he was after. The discomfort of bare knees on the alley pavement only added a little submissive spice to the experience. Bobo had his cock in hand, pointed right between my eyes, and I knew I only had a moment to make my play.

I figured Bobo was like most guys, eager to blast me in the face like this was a porn video. But slutty as I am, I draw the line at calling a cab at the end of the night with cum still stuck in my hair. Just as he seemed ready to blow, I wrapped my hand around his shaft and made his fat head disappear in my mouth.

Bobo made a noise that was both surprised and pleased, and in just three eager, wholehearted sucks I had him groaning through his teeth as his cock jumped and sprayed against the roof of my mouth. I held him there even when it was done, all the way through his spasming, trembling finish. I always loved this moment, knowing I’d brought a powerful man to ‘the little death,’ and for this instant in time, at least, he was putty in my hands.

When he started to pull himself out of my mouth I pursed my lips, sucking him clean and making sure no stray drops were going to dribble out and mess up my shirt. I was still holding his cum in my mouth, as was my habit, ready to spit it out as soon as the way was clear.

But the demon was paying attention. His palm pressed over my lips, fingers wrapping around my jaw. “You’re going to swallow it,” he ordered. That little spike of humiliation was like icing on the cake of this whole wild evening. I looked Bobo right in the eyes and made a big show of gulping his seed down. His answering smile made it worth it too, that smug, masculine look guys get when they feel like their cum went into places they could be proud of.

Then, in a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture, he helped me to my feet.

I almost regretted putting my pants back on. If we had been in a more comfortable location, that last little exchange would have inspired me to get started on a round two. At least to convince him to eat me out. But looking up at Bobo’s wild and imposing silhouette in this moonlit alley, I didn’t think it was a good time to press my luck.

His hand was kneading the back of my neck softly as I re-dressed beside him. Awareness of my surroundings returning, I felt my guard coming back up. Most likely I was about to regret all of this, no matter how blazing hot the encounter had been; better not to drag it out. I stepped out from under his hand, avoiding his eyes and moving toward the main street.

“Can I call on you some time?” Bobo asked, surprising me again with his softness. But plenty of tough guys got that way, after.

I looked up at him with a cold smirk that would have made Wynonna proud. “Oh no, we are definitely chalking this one up to temporary insanity.”

He stiffened, eyes narrowing. “Back to enemies again, in the morning?”

I nodded. “Couldn’t be any other way.”

He cocked his head to the side, the lines of his mohawk amplifying the wild effect of the gesture. He glanced quickly at the sky. “Got a few hours left before daylight, then. Wanna make the most of it, come back with me to my trailer?”

More Bobo here

Taglist:  @allsharingonebreath, @demoncrypt1066​, @writingfromasgard​, @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen​, @peachieowl @savismith​ @ceridwenofwales @equalstrashflavoredtrash​ @ivarinleatherpants​ 

[alitheamateur]

Daddy-Daughter Duty

(Giphy)

Have some fluff.

P.S. This tortured hottie should have smiled more in the movie. Simply for fact that it’s impossible to find even a slightly joyous gif to use for fiction as such. Good enough reason, right?

Another Saturday morning with a toe nearly jammed into the cavity of your ear, and very little hours of restless sleep the night before. You stressed and insisted to Tommy that it was crucial you train Ella to her own bed just one door down the hall, but the big brute just didn’t have it in him to turn his only baby girl away.

 Since her very strained birth, Tommy’s hand hasn’t left that little girls’ side. She was making trips to the gym with him at 2 months old just because he couldn’t bare to leave the house without her, despite his desperate need to train for an upcoming match. He’d caudle and swear he was only taking her along so you could finally steal a nap. But, all parties involved knew it all stemmed from his swelling heart, bursting with fatherly pride. Not that you’d complain for a second at the dutiful way he took care of his little family for a single second. But these days, you needed a few hours alone with your always handsome husband.

 “Tommy, honey. Tommy. Hey, you awake?” You whispered across the span of your crowded bed, praying not to wake the snoring little girl between the pair of you.

His lips pouted and bubbled in sleep, just like the tinier set nuzzled into the feather pillow in the middle of your bed. God help you, the child was more beautiful than a 3-year-old need be, and with Tommy’s genes, how could you be surprised? Finally, with a tickle to his hear, your slumbering man roused. Shaking and twitching at the strange alarm clock.

“Sneak down for a cup of coffee with me in the kitchen before she wakes up?” You proposed. You’d get your kicks where you could, no matter how small, with a very active toddler roaming the house 24/7.

The idea suited him evidently, said his lazy, yawning smile. He carefully took a grunting stretch and sank one foot to the floor mindful not to wake Ella, but all for naught.

She puckered a lip, squinting her wrinkly, sleepy eyelids tighter, and latched on to Tommy’s wide, shirtless back like a needy chimpanzee.  He was trapped now, and she would hold on for dear life if he tried to so much as wriggle free from her tiny little clenches. Tommy looked to you, his eyes full of internal warfare, silently apologizing for the inconvenience. The little angel was truly a wonderful child, and gave you no real trouble whatsoever. But, her deep-rooted cling to her father was becoming a bit inopportune.

Ella adored you, you were her mother for God sakes. The woman who shared her lipstick, and let you brush her hair and tie lots of bows in it. But, there was no denying the infatuation she had with the only man in her life. She wanted Tommy to feed her, Tommy to play dolls with her, Tommy to help brush her teeth twice a day. And as a matter of fact, the hellion refused to go to bed at night unless Tommy was following up the stairs to retreat in sleep behind her. It was sickeningly adorable, and you couldn’t blame the precious girl for being so in love with him, because you sincerely felt the exact way. But, she was becoming a tad snarky, and a bit defensive towards you when you tried to step into a kiss with Tommy in the mornings, or laughed hysterically in the kitchen alone with him as she sat on the living room rug watching her cartoons before bed. Ella and her “terrible three’s” were struggling painfully with the concept of sharing. Especially when it came to her daddy.

“She’s got to sleep in her own room tonight, Tommy. This can’t keep up! We’ll never get her through the doors of preschool if she doesn’t learn to part ways from you soon. We’ll have a talk with her before bedtime. Deal?”

……

You spent the day prepping the little princess’ room for her first solo sleeping night. The tiny Victorian, canopy bed had never been slept in, and the frill of her rosy pink comforter was still crisp from the package. You left she and Tommy alone at the park after a picnic so you could make a shopping run and gather some extra special last-minute touches. A nightlight shaped like a bright yellow star, a fluffy white bunny nearly triple the size of her to snuggle up next to, and a very specific doll she had begged for since seeing its advertisement on television. That was only if she made it successfully through the entire night in her own pink bedroom.

When your family of three returned home after a day of playgrounds, ice cream, and feeding the ducks, Ella was sticky with sugar and in desperate need of a bath. She requested bubbles, and you accommodated filling the tub to its rim with bubblegum scented suds. Tommy manned the grill while you bathed the chipper tot, allowing her to give you her famous soapsuds beard. She hysterically snorted and caught a case of the hiccups from her incontrollable laughter. While you were drying her off, and combing through her tangled, chocolate hair, she squeezed her soft little paws to your face and thanked you for her playday at the park. Her ‘I love you’ kisses were your greatest fulfillment.

The three of you grubbed on the healthy, summertime dinner at the kitchen table, and Ella caught lightening bugs with the neighbor girl across the street while Tommy held you on the porch swing as you warmed yourself with a buzzing glass of Chardonnay. She appeared to have used every fiber of bouncing energy throughout the day, so you prayed maybe she wouldn’t have much fight left in her to oppose parting ways with your bed, and crawling into her own.

She climbed the stairs with her favorite sippy cup, and took a familiar left down the hall towards her parents room for some shut eye.

“Ella, baby. Come with mommy. I have a surprise for you!” You scooped her up, kissing her damp hair smelling of ripe strawberries. Tommy was locking up, and flicking off light switches as he made his way behind his girls.

When you stepped through the opened door, her already vivid eyes twinkled all the more at the sight of her new furry friend resting under her turned down sheets. The nightlight was plugged next to the seat of her windowsill, and the fluorescent glow of her little fish tank lit up the bedside table.

“Baby, why don’t you let me handle this one?” Tommy kneaded into the small of your back, kissing the back of your head where the loose braid rested.

You placed Ella’s feet to the floor, and she ran directly for the rabbit tucked into her railed bed. Your husband yanked onto your arm as you passed him in exit so he could snatch a wet kiss. You stood only just outside the door, one thin wall separating you, so you were able to listen in.

“Daddy, oh daddy! Wook, my doodness! Wook at this cute ‘ittle wabbit!”

Tommy ran to her side, seating to the floor with his legs crossed beneath him. She climbed one foot in front of the other upon the bed, trying to wrap her tiny grasp around the stuffed animals neck.

“So cool, bug! What should we name him?” Tommy asked the young one.

“Elsa!” She yelped without hesitation. Everything in your life these days revolved around the particular famous princess.

“That’s perfect! You know what, Elsa looks comfy up there in your bed. Climb up next to her, baby!”

Her innocent, unsuspecting mind did just as she was told, and you heard the squeaks of the mattress when she floundered around to slide into the covers. An airy yawn followed, along with the sloshing of her lidded cup as she took a gulp.

“Seepy, daddy. Go bed?”

It was all too good to be true. Just as promptly as she had seemingly settled herself next to the newly crowned Elsa rabbit, she was crawling back to the floor in retreat to her usual sleep site.

“But, Ella Bella! You can’t leave Elsa all alone. She needs you to cuddle her tonight.” Tommy was so slick, even with white lies to his almost 4-year-old.

Your intelligent, quick-witted daughter agreed, so she simply grabs the fluffy companion by the arm and drags it toward the door, her little gown crooked around her neck.

“No, no, no. Elsa likes your room. She told daddy she likes it much better here than mine and mommas’ bed. You’ll sleep with her tonight, okay? Climb up and get under, sweetheart.” He fluffed the covers, raising up the warm blankets.

“Daddy in.” Ella demanded pulling on the collar of his gray t-shirt. The rattle of her raspy little tone gave away she was swiftly connecting the dots of this ploy, and tears waited in the wings.

“Daddy has to sleep with mommy, Ella. She gets sad without daddy! I have to give her bedtime hugs all night, just like you have to do the same with Elsa. It’s our job to love our friends, baby.”

You wanted to burst in and latch around the man and his broad shoulders. Tommy Conlon was a story book father. He may all too much enjoy the feel of someone’s nose shattering under his fist in the cage, but fatherhood was one aspect of life that he took to so… ordinarily. You knew he’d be a responsible supplier of needs, and certainly love the child you birthed, but his role went far beyond. Tommy was meant to be the daddy to a daughter, no doubt in your mind.

Ella sniffled, and you peeked stealthily around the corner to survey the room. Her little eyes drooped as a tear tickled her round cheek.

“I’ll just be down the hall, pumpkin. Mommy and I will see you first thing in the morning, and I bet she’ll let us have Cheerios, too!”

He cleaned the wetness from her face, brushing some wild curls behind her ears. His substantially sized mitt could’ve palmed her whole tiny head like a basketball. Ella blinked as if her poor eyelids were just impossible to hold open, and you could tell she wasn’t in full understanding of all Tommy was explaining to her. But nonetheless, she laid her head to the pillow, offering up her drink of water to him. Her weak little fist was massaging on the floppy ear of the bunny when Tommy finally stood up to neatly tuck her in properly.

“I love you, champ. Sleep tight.” He kissed her forehead, and his full lashes swept over her forehead.

“Goodnight, angel. Mommy loves you.” You blew a kiss to her from the doorway, shutting off the light, but her restless eyes had already sealed.

Leaving the door open, you reached for Tommy’s hand when he kidnapped you into an embrace with his arm curved over your shoulders. The pair of you watched wordlessly from the darkness of the hallway, appreciating the sleeping beauty calm in her own bed.

“Now, I believe that very empty bed is calling our names, momma. And most definitely, not for sleep.” Tommy dipped his hand into the waist of your pants, palming your backside.

“Finally, it’s mommy’s’ turn for some bonding with daddy.”

TAGS: @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

[sharperthewriter]

How the Rockwaller Stole Christmas (1/2)

"How the Rockwaller Stole Christmas" For the first of the two winter poems That you're reading away or at your home Just to let everyone know, the entire selection (including the intro) is in rhyme This is to save everyone, especially Whitem, a whole lot of time It is for his 10th Winter Writing Contest, so it'll be brief I promise that I won't take any Fannies awards for this, or else I'd be a thief It features Bonnie in such a grumpy Grinchy feeling But Junior gives her an idea that is worth...how should I say...stealing Let's see how it goes Will they get away scot-free or get caught? Who knows. The poem is rated T As you can see For some minor swear words (but including a gesture that is obscene) So it is why is it suitable for those over the age of 13. And humor that is crude And for the snark in Bonnie's 'Queen B' attitude Kim Possible is created by Schooley and McCorkle and (c) by Disney This is to (hopefully) prevent the Mouse's lawyers from getting all in a suing tizzy. And as for the Seuss Estate, there will be no feelings of ill will or resentment. For this very poem is parody and satire, and fair use, covered by the First Amendment. So without further ado, Here is this treat of a poem, especially for the reader...which is you.

"How the Rockwaller Stole Christmas" (PART I)

This is the time of year A time of happiness and joy Where there is the spreading of good and cheer For almost every Middletonian girl and boy

As stated before, almost every young citizen Down in Middleton Liked Christmas a lot. But Bonnie Rockwaller, who lived just next door to the Possibles, did NOT!!

She hated how the Possibles celebrated Christmas in their house Giving a low growl that would even frighten a small mouse Every single day of the accursed Christmas season. If you are wondering to try To ask the question of why She does have her reasons.

And no, it wasn't because her head wasn't screwed on right Or that her Country Club Banana boots were too tight Or that a probable main reason of all Could be that her heart was three sizes too small

No, all she had to do was go back years past Of how past Christmases at the Rockwallers sucked when she was a young lass. From the hand-me-downs of her sisters to the infamous photo of her crying in Santa's lap Those winter "memories", she knew, would be crap The only bright spot of her Christmases, if it even would bother Would be the gifts given to her from Donald Rockwaller aka her father But, alas, this year, her dad's gift would be proven fruitless, of course For the Rockwallers are (currently) going through a very tough divorce.

And then there was the part where, a few years ago if one can gleam Bonnie starred as an angel in a Nativity scene They sang songs such as "Silent Night", "Joy to the World" and similar sounds Only problem was that said Nativity scene was played on courthouse grounds Some politically-correct people in the audience pointed out, if they can relate, That this was a blatant violation of the separation of church and state. The Queen, who had enjoyed this, flew in a rage On the Nativity scene stage She shocked the audience, her parents, and her fellow singers, By giving the politically-correct people two middle fingers

So she stared there on Christmas Eve from her bedroom window, Hating the Possibles all the while Middleton was covered in record-setting snow. From the lighted windows of their house, Kim was hanging a mistletoe wreath, Just in case Ron  came,  she can kiss him from beneath.

Bonnie couldn't believe That today was indeed Christmas Eve She continued to growl, her fingers continued drumming "I MUST find a way to prevent the Possible Christmas from coming!" She stood there, brooding and stewed

For tomorrow, she knew... (PART II) All the Possible girls and boys Yes, this includes Ron and Rufus They would all rush for their gadgets and toys. Including, as Bonnie called him, the blonde-haired doofus. She would be rattled and awakened by all the NOISE, NOISE, NOISE!!! All the NOISE!!! NOISE!!! NOISE!!! That was one thing she hated while trying to sleep in her bed On every single Christmas Day The continuing screaming sounds of video games being played repeatedly in her head Unfortunately for her, it had always been this way.

She'll (that being Kim) call and beep Wade on the new Kimmunicator The Tweebs would fly around with their drone, armed with an incinerator Joss would buck around with her large mechanical horse, making bucking sounds Cousin Larry would do roleplay while playing the latest version of Everlot, a quest to be found Kim will also blare the rare $50 Britina CD on her CD player as if she captured the Holy Grail Bonnie had been demanding said CD from her mother all month long...but to no avail. And as of Ron and Rufus, he will play noisy games to get that high score. Like the latest installment of the M-rated gorefest known as Zombie Mayhem IV. Oh...the Queen hated that that noise a plenty When Ron plays it for hours on end on his PSX720.

To her, this was no fair. The comparison of gifts really almost made her tear out her brunette hair. She even tried to get her dad, whom was the chief of police, to stop the squeaks and squeals While the Possibles raced around on ATVs with 4 wheels. Alas, it was no use for her to stop this noise torture from Hell. Bonnie felt as if her house was one big jail cell.

As if this were another reason for her to hate on the Possible's holiday moods, to be quite frank There was Ron turning up the volume, watching "The Six Tasks of Snowman Hank" Oh, if only the Queen had earplugs A type that would drown out the warm clink of Possible cocoa-moo mugs

And then the Possibles, young and old Will then all sit down to a feast And they all feast, feast, FEAST!!! The food from their cabinets and fridge flowed like never-ending gold They devour a large Christmas turkey, which was about as big as a 10-pound Beast Oh, a Christmas Turkey Beast is a feast Bonnie couldn't stand in the very least. In the sweets department, there were the famous lemon squares by her Nana But all Bonnie got was after the Rockwaller Xmas Dinner was a rotten banana.

And then, the Possibles do something that the Queen hated most of all Every Possible in the Possible house, the tall and small. Will stand close hand in hand With Christmas Bells on their phone apps constantly  ringing And the Possibles, standing on their property land... ...they start SINGING!!! And they'll SING, SING, SING!!!!!! That is what will make her the most feral When the Possibles sing their Christmas carols.

And the more Bonnie thought of the Possible-Christmas sing.... ...The more the Queen thought!

She must stop this whole entire thing. "Why, for five years, I've put up with it now!"

"I HAVE to stop the Possible's Christmas from coming....but how?"

(PART III) As she continued to stare outside Bonnie then heard two taps on her door The figure came from the hallway, not making an attempt to hide It was only her rich boyfriend, Senor Senior Junior, nothing more. Junior had come to his first Rockwaller Christmas, being that he was in town This was an attempt by Veronica to try to turn her daughter's frown upside-down Like Bonnie, his heart was three sizes too small. But it was his brain that was tiny, most of all.

"Oh hey, my rich hottie. Wonder why you're doing here in my place!"

Bonnie said with a slight smile on her face. She waited on what her dim BF was trying to say "Hey, my love." Junior replied, "I came here for the food and any games that you usually play."

Bonnie scoffed, "Junior, I know that this is your first time, and you're trying But I suspect that you may be a be a bit...lying.

And I like that," she continued with a salacious grin. For she knew Junior was loaded, a fact she knew he was an instant win. Junior said, "My love, I can bring you anything this year, a fact that my father had taught I can even buy you a multi-million-dollar yacht."

Bonnie sighed, fading away from her smile "Junior, that is all well and good, and I can see..." She continued to stare outside the window for a little while "...but I got issues with the Possibles' Christmas continuing to mock me."

"Today is Christmas Eve, in case if you're wondering Come tumi, I will constantly be irritated by their noises, and that wannabe, I am still trying to think on what to do...in this case...pondering... I guarantee you, Junior, that she will flaunt her gifts for all the world to see."

Junior then suggested something vile "Why not have me dressed as Santa? Like with the coat and hat" Replied the oft-complaining man-child "I can guarantee you that you can steal their Christmas in a snap."

Then the Queen got an idea. An awful idea. The Queen got a wonderful, awful idea. (PART IV)

"Junior, I think I know a way."

Bonnie replied with the salacious grin "Hear me out on what I have to say!" She knew her plan would be as dirty as sin.

"A month ago, my dad arrested a drunk Santa at a mall He confiscated the belt, fake beard, hat, boots and all." She laughed in her throat. But Junior asked "Did he also get the coat?" "Oh yes, he did get that well..." Bonnie remembered. For she saw that incident in late-November.

Junior still questioned "But where can we get that suit in such short time?" "And will it fit this sexy booty of mine?" Bonnie said with a wide grin, "Junior, the suit's a perfect fit for you. It's in the basement by the way under boxes of old shoes."

"But I don't wanna go down the basement!" Junior whined for a while. That was the least of his problems for the overgrown man-child. Unlike his dad, he wasn't used to doing a life of crime Bonnie scoffed at him, "I'll go first and you'll follow behind." Junior whimpered "I hope that I don't look fat in that coat at all."

While his girlfriend held on to her baggy bib-down overall.

So about 30 minutes later, the evil couple found the Santa clothes Junior took a deep breath and said, "Let's see how this goes." To his amazement, they fit perfectly. Right down to the coat, which covered up his muscular belly. Bonnie grinned, "What a great and vile trick.

With this coat, fake beard, and hat, you look exactly like St. Nick.

Junior rightly pointed out. "Now that I am dressed as a Santa and that's all glad,  ..." "...how can we destroy Kim Possible's Christmas so that we can make her sad."

"The solution to that problem is simple." Bonnie said, tenting her fingers "We are going to steal them in the middle of the night, and let nothing linger." "Contractor style trash bags and sacks are the best method to use "They are perfect to take on any trashy weight of abuse. "Once we steal all of the Possibles' gifts "We're going to jam them into a car, 'borrowed' from Cruella De Vil, for a lift."

"And then once we get outside the city limits where the elevation is higher. "We will then burn all their gifts and food in one great big fire."

Junior gasped at the audacity of this crime It would put their relationship to the test If they got caught by Team Possible, it surely would result in their arrest. Then again, he has some added muscle from HenchCo so he had one less thing to whine

"My love, I am ready to do the stealing with you, In case we win, I even reserved a romantic spot on the island for two! Just say the word and I can call upon some strong henchmen It would make our job easier, with me and you times ten."

"Now all I need to complete the look of fear Is that of a reindeer."

Bonnie looked outside her house for any of them, if that is so Unfortunately, a reindeer's habitat did not include Colorado Just as it so happens, her Pit Bull, Queenie, made his way down the stairs He began to drool everywhere His look was so fierce and full of hate Why the Queen named a male dog a female name, shouldn't be for debate But did this stop her? Not at all. She also stared at one of the bucks her father killed, mounted on the basement wall Bonnie simply said, "If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!"

She instructed Junior to take a saw, duct tape, and some strong thread And tied a couple of big horns to Queenie's head. Junior asked "So when would be the stealing? What would be a perfect time to enter the Possible's main den?" Bonnie replied "I got a feeling..."

....That we will strike at ten!" "I know of a back alleyway That connects to their house But we have to be quiet, nothing more to say Nothing above the squeak of a mouse.

Agreeing to the plan set, Junior and Bonnie called up HenchCo To send in their stealthiest henchmen for at least ten in tow.

__________________________________________________________________________ (PART V) It was now 10pm as Bonnie, Junior and the henchmen started down Toward the Possible house, whose inhabitants lay snoring within town.

Despite the fact that they were sleeping, they thought they were protected By an exquisite alarm system that would blare a loud sound When an intruder would be found And he/or she would be detected

Their windows were also dark and the doors were locked They made sure an intruder's way out would be blocked All the Possibles, especially Kim, were dreaming without a single care When the villains came to their house on Middleton Square

The whole evil team snuck to the den at exactly 10 o'clock In order to undergo their villainous vice Ooooh....stealing Christmas from the Possibles will be quite nice.... ....That is, if they can get through the lock.

"We need to get through this door without causing the plan any harm... ...If we go in, it would surely set off that alarm. "Miss Rockwaller..." the lead henchman said, "...if it may say to suffice"

"This looks like a job for the HenchCo Automatic Disarming Alarm Device!"

The HADAD did it job It cracked the code for the alarm, rendering it useless But now came the issue of the door, still locked at its knob. "Lucky for me, I brought out my hairpin! Surely, it would let us in."

Unfortunately for her, the pin broke as a makeshift key Grunting, but not deterred, the Queen has a plan B She took out Junior's solid-gold limitless credit card Junior then whispered, as if he were doing a Sonnet from the Immortal Bard "Be careful, my love! That is my rarest card of all It's supposed to be used for the World's Richest Mall!"

This time, though, the hack card did work (Oh, if she only could invent the dance known as the twerk) The villainous team entered quietly into the room To begin Operation Villainous Christmas of Doom Bonnie gave a wide open smirk, so evil and so blatant That it rivaled that of the Prince of Darkness, Satan. She then saw all of the Possible stockings hung in a row. "Their stockings..." she grinned, "...are the first things to go!"

She instructed her dim BF to use a magnet for her first method of attack It loosened the nails and the stockings immediately fell in the sack

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans- Chris Evans Au Chapter One

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. 

Disclaimers: I don’t own Chris Evans (FML, that’s why it’s shit tbh.)

Word Count: 1, 817 words

(Don’t skip it, or you won’t understand this chapter! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻)

Read Prologue Here!

***

Your heart felt just about ready to leave your chest. "M-my free period." It came out as more of a statement than what it was really meant to be- a question.

The corners of Mr. Evan's eyes crinkle when an amused grin spreads over his face. "Yes, Y/n, your free period."

You blush, blinking stupidly "Uh, why?"

He doesn't seem bothered by your general slowness to the situation. In fact, he seems overly amused by your reactions and takes it as an opportunity to tease you. "Because you're a horrible student"

You frown and bite your lip. And maybe, a message of God, you catch his eyes flicker to the lip caught between your teeth and his pupils dilate in the slightest. But just as quick as it came, it left, leaving you to question whether you were really seeing it or it was just your constant wishful thinking playing trick on your eyes.

You smile a bit at his teasing.

He shifts a bit and clears his throat.

“Y/n, you’re an extremely talented writer. Your last paper was...magnificent,” he breathes.

You blush, chuckling nervously at his praising words. “Hardly.” And you begin fiddling with your sweater’s sleeve.

“No,” his immediate answer forced you to snap your head up. “Your paper is beautiful. Like, actually truly amazing. You’re amazing.”

You swear you forgot how to breathe that exact moment. Your eyes are wide and you blink a couple of times, trying to get your mind to adjust on the fact that the most beautiful man you’d ever met actually thought you were amazing.

Wait. Why did he think you were amazing? Where did he even get the idea that you were amazing?

Now it was funny. Not because it was like, funny-funny, but because the thought that Mr. Evans thought you were amazing seemed like a far-off dream for the greatest time and now here it was; staring you in the face. It was quite comical.

You snort, ignoring the raised brow Mr. Evans sends at the unladylike gesture.

“Yeah, sure...”

He leans in his brows furrowed, eyes trained on your face. In search of something. almost like he was looking for a different reaction or maybe even a sign that you were joking.

When he saw that wasn’t your intention, he leans away, thick arms crossed over his firm chest. The man looks like a Goddam Michaelangelo sculpture.

He sighs. “Y/n. Your writing is some of the best I’ve seen.” He says it so seriously, it’s hard to accept the fact that maybe he’s lying.

Not to mention the man’s eyes were mesmerizing, breathtaking. You can’t exactly pinpoint what it is about them that attracts you so much. But the little green specks at the center of a beautiful shade of blue and they’re gentleness and seemingly everlasting understanding along with the ridiculously long eyelashes that encased them seemed like a safe bet.

“Beautiful,” you blurt in a breath after a moment of silently staring at eachother. With you lost in his eyes and he, you thought, trying to convey the honesty behind his words. After all, there was no way he’d just stare directly into your eyes without it being about that, right?

He frowns a little. “Huh?”

You immediately snap out of your daze, blushing. “Uh...nothing. I just meant...your uh, board it looks beautiful!” You point to the bulletin board behind his head and he glances back at it with the same confused frown.

You grip the edges of your sleeves harshly, pursing your lips. When he turns back around, he’s grinning. “You know, you’re the only one who’s ever said that.”

You sag, relief that he’d eaten the lie you’d fed, flooding you. “Uh, yeah. Very aesthetically pleasing. I like the pictures.” 

They were cut-outs of different things being held up by small pins. Famous musicians, works of literature, art. In fact, you were well-versed on most of the things he had on there. 

He chuckles a bit and you feel as light as a feather when the melodious sound reaches your ears. “I get a lot of the inspiration for books and paper topics I assign you guys from there.” 

“Huh, that’s actually pretty cool.” And you were being truthful. It wasn’t everyone who could stick to having such an extensive yet artistically appealing board.

“I guess so,” he shrugs lightly. “Anywho, we’re here to talk about you not me Y/n.”

You gulp, nodding slowly. 

“Right then, as I said; your writing is truly breathtaking. A-and your essays are wonderful too. But,” he pauses, looking at you with a cocked brow. “You’re always distracted in my class and,” he laughs a little. “I don’t know i-if you just have trouble listening to me babble on about works of literature o-or I’ve made you feel uncomfortable in some-”

“Lord, no!” you shake your head frantically. If only he knew him babbling on about works of literature is the highlight of my day.

He seems relieved as he scratches his beard lightly and you try not to shiver in delight at the view. His beard must tickle, you giggle absentmindedly. But then you remind yourself you mustn’t think such foolish things.

“Something bothering you?”

“N-no.”

“Then why are you anxious?”

You freeze, looking at him with wide eyes. “How d-did you...”

“You’re hard to miss, Y/n.” He grins a little. 

Okay, that’s it. Your heart is going to give out if you don’t get out of here soon.

With burning cheeks, you clear your throat. “Can I uh- why d-do you need me for my free periods, Mr. Evans? I mean, you said yourself, I’m a good student.”

He shakes his head. “And you are. At home. But when you’re here... I don’t know...You seem, off. And I want to work with you individually. Get to know the real you before we make a decision on how we can help you focus better in my class. We’ll discuss what’s distracting you, and prep you for college.” He smiles gently, his eyes trained on your fiddling hands and you notice his hand twitch. 

Almost like he wanted to reach out and touch you. Yep, you’ve lost it Y/n. Your wishful thinking has turned you straight up delusional.

He ends up dragging his hand slowly off his desk and letting it fall limply beside him. “Sound good?” 

You struggle to respond right away. It sounded like a great opportunity to get your grades up and be closer to your crush, but that was also the problem. The closer you were to him, the stronger your feelings got. You didn’t want to hold onto any foundationless hope. 

But then again, how could you say no to those eyes? And that face?

You sigh, “Okay.” 

***

“Wait. Hold the phone!” you friend, Margo, raises her perfectly-shaped brows, a small smirk on her face. 

“So, let me get this straight. You’re going to be spending all your free periods with Mr. Hottie, every day?”

You twirl your milkshake with a straw. “Well, technically not every day. We only go to school-"

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. No the point. You’re going to be alone, five days a week, for an entire forty minutes each day?” she blinks a few times, her big brown eyes wide with shock. 

You let out a small, quiet, exasperated sigh. “Yes, Margo, we’re-”

“And no one else will be around during that time?”

You slam your fork down briskly, starling your best friend. “Yes, Margo! We’re gonna be in a room, alone, for forty minutes every day for five fucking days every fucking week! Now, will you let it go?” Margo’s mouth is agape at your harsh growl, her hands held up defensively. 

“O-Okay, geez. No need to get aggressive! And did you just- did you just curse?”

You groan, burying your face in your arms. “That’s not the point Margo.” You raise your head, “I’m freaking out! I’ll end up spilling the beans about everything, feeling pressured by his constant presence. And he’ll think I’m an idiot and I’ll be so embarrassed I’ll be forced to move away with my family. And I can't because my dad has a really good job and my mom, she loved this place. I can’t possibly-” Just as you begin hyperventilating, Margo slaps your arm lightly.

“Y/n! Calm down. That’s not going to happen, trust me. And plus, what makes you think he doesn’t like you?”

You stare at her with a ‘really?’ face and scoff. “You’re kidding, right? There’s absolutely no way he would ever like me.”

“Why?” She says it so nonchalantly. As if the answer isn’t staring at her right in the face. Literally.

You look at her even more incredulously. “B-because Marge! I’m a child to him! I-I’m horrible in his class a-and-”

“And he stares at you when you aren’t looking. He complimented your writing, which bt-dubbs I’ve been telling you to show off for a while now. And now, he’s actively seeking to help you. Not you and Linda. Not you and Jason. You. Just Y/n and Mr. Evans alone in a room for-”

“Stop being ridiculous, Margo! There’s just no-”

“Y/n age is just a number.”

You slump forward, banging your head on the table repeatedly, your cheeks hot as coals. “Can you just not, Margo? Stop giving me false hope, it-”

“But I’m not! Everything I’m saying is true. What makes you think you could never be enough for him?” you perk up at that.

You huff lightly. “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that the man looks better than a young Paul Mounet! And I’m a friggin potato with facial features!” you gesture wildly to your face. 

Margo shakes her head and her bouncy black curls follow her movements. “Okay, don’t know who that is, but that’s beside the point. Y/n, you’re gorgeous.”

You straight up laugh at her. “French actor? Early 1900′s?”

“Y/n.”

“Fine. I don’t know where you see that, but fine.” you shrug, sipping on our milkshake. 

“Do you even hear yourself? Do you really think that low of yourself? You’re-”

“Messed up? Yeah.” 

Margo sighs, shaking her head, but doesn’t say anything else. She’d been your friend for three years and a half. Bubbly and popular, she was the exact opposite of you, but somehow, you’d ended up being the best of friends.

She was a short, dark-skinned girl with a curvy shape and no shame in it. She always said “real women have curves” whenever someone made a rude remark. You admired her strength and overall confidence. You could never pull off the way she dressed and acted even if you wanted. 

“Hey, are you sure Mr. Evans isn’t staring at you when we walk by?” You’re more curious by her earlier remark that you’d like to admit.

Margo snorts, sending you a knowing look. You blush. “Girl, if I’ve ever seen a man look at a woman, it’s Mr. Evans looking at you. And it certainly isn’t me he’s looking at. Trust me on that.” You hum, unconvinced. 

“When do you have to see him anyways?”

“Tomorrow, last period,” you can’t help but feel a bit excited. Because despite thinking it a catastrophic notion, being near him was-

“Oh! Yes, honey! You’re going to get the best period with him!” she rubs her hands excitedly. 

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile. 

“I sure am.”

God, this was a very bad idea.

So why did it feel so right?

Read Chapter Two Here!!

***

I know this is absolute crap and all over the place, and I’m sorry but I think the mucus clogging my airways has now made its way up to my brain and has taken my neurons captive.

*Sigh*

Anywho, as always send me feedback (please do) reply, send requests, asks, messages, whatever you please! (I’ll try to respond the best I can from above a pile of used kleenex tissues)

A special thanks to:

@bombsandsparkles @meowsekai @godohammers @sp2900  @weirdvishy -my lovely “Mr. Evans” humans

And of course my forevers!

@jessikared97 @sherlockedtash88 @lilypalmer1987

(Don’t hesitate to tell me if you want to be tagged.)

[canecainkane]

The Spirit of Christmas (2015)

Description: “Kate, a workaholic lawyer, has three weeks to get a haunted bed and breakfast appraised and sold. The uncooperative manager claims a spirit who lives there will not approve. With Kate's possible promotion resting on accomplishing this task, she checks in and haggles with the aforesaid Christmas spirit, who suspiciously seems awfully solid for a ghost.”

Yeahhhhh, perfect tagline. Generic af and twice as long as it needs to be. 

RATING:

Candy Canes: 2.5 out of 5

Starts with a break-up (+1) between some dude we don’t care about and a workaholic (-1) estate lawyer (+1 for specificity) who needs to travel to a historical B&B (-1) where she ... falls in love with a ghost with a Macklemore haircut (+WTF). The movie basically breaks exactly even. It’s on the boring side, but at least it’s a plot I haven’t been bored by before instead of a plot that’s been boring me since 1996.

Dean Cains: 1.5 out of 5

Half-Buzz Haunted Hottie just moods & broods the whole time, and he is a convincing brooder, I guess? But kind of a sack of meat for the rest of the movie. At least he has a chin. The lead actress plays her scenes like a grown-up child actor: hits the mark and reads out her lines super loud and super fast, occasionally with so little conviction it sounds like she memorized them phonetically. But the modern scenes pale in comparison to the 1920s scenes, which are totally middle-school drama club. I’m like 99% sure one of the flappers said “forsooth” at some point. 

Citizen Kanes: 0.5 out of 5

Automatic half-Kane because the ghost logistics were so incredibly nonsensical that the greatest pleasure of the movie was shouting at the TV about how little sense everything made. And if that’s not what we watch Hallmark movies for, then I don’t know what is.

TOTAL:4.5 out of 15

I forgot this movie as soon as it was over. Literally. I finished it, then rewound it by a few minutes to capture a GIF -- then my husband asked if I wanted to make lunch and I told him, with no irony, “Give me a few minutes, I’m almost at the end of this boring-ass movie.” It took me three minutes to realize I’d already seen the alleged climax of the film.

WTF Moments:

*Okay, I could get into how bananas all the half-assed ghost logistics were -- by why not let the movie do that for me?

*But who needs a logical plot when you have a hot-ass lead actor? At least that’s the gist of pretty much every review I’ve read of this movie. I’m not into Ye Olde Timey hipsters, especially since his beard looks like long, wet chest hair.

Nonetheless, the movie’s stance is “he’s sexy and we know it.” Like 40% of the movie is just weirdly lit shots of him brooding. All of these shots are taken from a randomly chosen NINETY SECOND section of the movie:

Seriously, like 60 out of the 90 seconds.

*The reviews aren’t as interested in the female lead (Jen Lilley) but I found her way more interesting. My favorite Hallmark Channel movie game is trying to figure out who the actors are store-brand versions of. Usually they’re a portmanteau of two different actors, but I couldn’t really place Jen Lilley. From some angles, she was Rip-off Anna Kendrick, then Generic Jessica Chastain, then Squint & You’ll See Young Debra Messing, then flashes of, weirdly, Tina Fey? I think I ended up settling mostly on JoAnna García, which made me like this movie more, because I’ve always found her super charming + stupid beautiful, and wish she had a better career.

*Got to love a Big Romantic Ending where a couple runs through the snow toward one another -- and the woman runs like Judge fucking Dredd.

*Okay, I lied, a little more about the ghost logistics. Hard to parse this garbage fire, but it seems that in the world of the story -- whenever a ghost dies while they are in love with someone, they get to ... make a dying blessing to protect the person? And also if you are a ghost who hasn’t crossed over yet, then crossing over = kind of dying and you get to make a blessing on someone? And ghosts can cross and un-cross at will, but only when they died or when they leave on an international trip that will end in their death, and sometimes they are solid and living but sometimes they are invisible and just whisper creepily? 

Okay, nope, nope, nope, I really can’t -- except to say that of all the ridiculousness of this plot, the MOST ridiculous part is that apparently if you die, then your ex gets to decide, at their sole discretion, whether or not you come back to life?!

I’ve never before understood why people stay friends with their exes. I mean, I still don’t, but. 

*My favorite character in this movie, by far, is Haunted Hottie’s ex-lover, who only shows up at the very end: in the 1920s, she put her death blessing on Haunted Hottie, causing him to blah blah blah, whatever, but finally at the end, after 95 years of waiting for him to get ready to cross over -- he decides to abandon ex-love to stay with the woman he met 12 days ago?

Ex-Lover Lilly’s face tells the whole story perfectly: 

I’ve never seen a woman shout that fuckin’ guy louder in body language alone. No wonder she’s so willing to (use her magical powers to miraculously bring him back to life and) let him go. As, indeed, we are all willing to wave adieu to this confusing mess of a movie.

[valkurious69]

My Sweet Sacrifice CH. 2

“Halo?” I rasped, twirling a strand of hair on my finer. It was probably another of mom’s boring work fiends, ready 2 leaf a massage 4 her. I didn’t even half time to roll my eyes when they flew back open wide.



“is this Tamzin Loki?” came a really lusty girl’s voice. My tongue dried up in my mouth at the sight of her words. I licked my lips and told my heart to shut UP! (AN: as I said b4, she’s BYE!!!!11 that means she likes men AND WOMAN!!1) I didn’t even mind that she hand’t used my full name, which I prefer to go bi.

“Y-Yes... that’s me!” croaked my reply. I whipped my hands against my skirt nervously. What could such a sexy person want from me besides sex ofc. But she hadn’t even seen my face yet! Or had she? I hoped she wasn’t some1 creepy, even though she was a girl and girls aren’t ever crepey.



“My nam is the Morrigan...” she continued plainly, as if filling her nails. “I have a preposition for you...”

Tehh Morrigan?? That was a big fcuking deal, since she’s the ruler of the dark fay (oh, I forgot to mention, since I am dark fae, she’s my queen 2)!!1! Like imagine if Amy Lee had called a fan to ask them a flavor, it’s that cool. It also explained her sexiness, since she’s well-known for being a major hottie. Even hotter than us valkrees!1 But what did she want with me...?

“oh woW!” I gasped, choked. “What a horror! I am flattened, my ledge.” I bowed even tho I was on a phone. You never no what she could see, after all. “What can I dew for you?”



She purred a smile. “Just what I hopped to hear. I have a very important mission 4 u. I have herd a great deal about you, Tamzin... all vary impressive things.”

My blush crept all over my face, making it very hot. Hotter than normal. “Thx.” I elaborated.

“That’s why I want you to bring a fae man into Valhella 4 me...”

I did a spit take even tho I wasn’t drinking. Valkyries usually only bring humans in2 Valholla!! Killing a fae mean he must be an important guy to her... and definitely lite. Only noble dudes got to retire in the hall of the goods. The Mulligan orderign to kill a light fae on porpoise would be a crime in our world... if anyone ever caught her in the act.

And she wanted ME two do it??



“A... a fae?” I reaped in shock. “That’s a big deal...”

“Yes, yas it is. But I have my raisins, and I have faith that you can pole it off.” Her voice was still hella sexy, like if Angelina Jolie and Marylin Monorail had a baby. And then that baby grew up into a mega sexbonb woman. It was really hard to say no to a voice lik that. “So... u up 4 the challenge?”

I glanced @ my reflection in the hallway mirror, dabbing. Before now, I had been escorting normal targets, supes boring average heroes... and all human. Which I didn’t mind... huemans could be pretty cute. Especially when fucking them. Which I like to do, a lot. They're cut lil bruises and painting sounds... the way they moan and grown... even when they cum too soon is precious. (AN: don’t call her a slut!!11!! she just likes sex, OK?? that don;t mean she a whore!!) Butt bringing a light fae into the halls.... that would def bump me up to head Valkyrie level... and I would be the youngest ever to do sew...

“Kay.” I said after an hour. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderulf!” she yawned happily, snapeing her fingers. A heavy folder of paupers appeared in midair and I caught them just as they started to fall. “off!” I managed not to say as they landed. Cradling the phone on my shoulder, I opened them up.

“So... ho is my target?”



Rite on the fist page was a hot af young man (tho knot as young as me), with dirty blond curls and a sexy scuffle of a beard. He looked neice, wearing a purple collared shit, sleeves rolled halfway up, under a pinstriped vest, a studded punk belt threaded thru black leather sknny pants, and a sliver wristwatch. He had the faintest trace of eyeliner around his kind eyes, which were squinted in happenis in the pic (AN: if u don think eyeliner on guys is sexay than FCCK OFF!!!11!!! they’re not gay if they do, and being gay makes them 10x hotter anyway!!). The only evidence of anything fae was the hint of fang at the coroner of his smile, confirming along w his stats that he was, indeed, a wearwolf. I scammed the name @ the top of the page right as the Morganna hissed aganst my ear,



“Dyson”.

[theoldlesbianwithcats]

Remember that French TV show (Dix pour cent) I told you about, that made their lesbian main character sleep with a man? Now that character is pregnant with him of course, but the creator of the show Fanny Herrero (a straight woman) has a very good reason, don’t worry!

“Andréa is gay but she’s liberated enough to, on a one-night-stand, have sex with a man and not have a problem with it, because her sexuality is mature and fulfilling enough that she doesn’t ask herself questions. From the beginning, I knew that this character would have a very rich, complex and liberated libido, and for me that goes beyond sleeping with women. I think Andréa is more modern than that.”

Did you hear, ladies? A modern woman with a rich, complex, fulfilling sex life = a woman who wants to have sex with a man! How progressive!

Anyway, for once a Buzzfeed article about lesbians isn’t completely awful, so @sespursongles and I translated it in English :

Why movies and TV have to stop making lesbians sleep with guys

Marie Kirschen, Buzzfeed France, 14th May 2017

Like recently in the TV show Dix Pour Cent (Call My Agent in English), it regularly happens that characters introduced as gay or lesbian eventually sleep with a person of the opposite sex... to the gay fans’ great regret.

Andréa Martel is a small revolution. The main character of France 2′s TV show Dix pour cent, whose second season just ended, is charismatic, stylish, loudmouthed, beautiful, touching, badass, funny and... a lesbian. A lesbian main character in a prime time TV show on a big national channel ? It’s never been seen before in the French audiovisual landscape, so timid about LGBT themes.

There were a few made-for-TV movies about female homosexuality, often quite badly done, a few secondary characters, sometimes a bit clumsy. But nothing as exciting as this at peak viewing time. Andréa is a multidimensional, very well-written protagonist. Her homosexuality is there, without it being a problem, without being hidden. The icing on the cake, Andréa is wonderfully played by Camille Cottin. THE star of Dix pour cent, that’s her.

Like many lesbian viewers, hungry for visibility, I was hooked immediately. And then there was the third episode of the second season, broadcasted at the end of April. Andréa is competing with her boss, Hicham, to seduce a model. During a party at a castle, Hicham ends up winning the game : he enters a bedroom with the model. But that’s without considering Andréa’s hurt ego who, a bottle in her hand, decides to join them. Her catchphrase : “You didn’t think you’d have her all to yourself?!” But, as this improvised threesome begins, Andréa and Hicham forget immediately about the pretty blonde, kiss passionately and roll on the bed. Reaction of the abandoned model (and our reaction) : “Seriously ? (sigh)”

After loving women openly for eight episodes, Andréa abandons a blue-eyed goddess for her cruel, manipulative boss? Some viewers were a bit surprised, even disappointed.

[Tweets embedded in the article :]

@RomainBurrel (journalist for a cultural magazine and a gay magazine) It sucks to see one of the rare and best lesbian characters sleep with a dude... @PrincesseYuyu LET US HAVE A LESBIAN IN A FRENCH TV SHOW, DAMMIT, STOP SHIPPING HER WITH HICHAM. It depresses me.

@keedz75 Of course the gay character can’t be happy being a lesbian and must answer heterosexual fantasy by becoming bi

“I received a few harsh remarks”, tells Fanny Herrero, the creator of the show, to Buzzfeed. “There are gay women who took it badly. I can understand it because it’s quite rare to have a lesbian main character on TV, so we shouldn’t make her sleep with a guy, I get it. The relation to sex is quite liberated in Dix pour cent, there’s a freedom of tone, I thought that freedom of tone was enough and that it would let us play with the codes.”

Fanny Herrero clarifies that, if she’s straight, there are two gay women in the writing team. Visibly upset by those reviews, she concedes that :

“Maybe I took it too lightly. At that moment, we didn’t realize it could hurt. Maybe we should have been more delicate, but we write characters, we don’t write for a cause. From a writing point-of-view, we have a chessboard of characters that we animate and sometimes we exaggerate a bit for dramatization. Maybe we’re going to push characters faster to places where, in real life, they wouldn’t go, where it would take more time.”

Beyond Dix pour cent, if that little twist made people angry, it’s because it adds to the long list of films and TV shows where a main character is introduced as a lesbian (we’re not talking of bisexual or questioning characters, but characters clearly presented as gay) to make her have sex with a man a few minutes after.

The film lesbians hate the most

One film in particular embodies this trope: Chasing Amy wins the Oscar for Most Hated Film of the 90s in the lesbian community. The hero, played by Ben Affleck, befriends Joey, beautiful and liberated. He asks her a series of stupid questions about gay women and wonders how lesbian sex can count as "real sex" since, he reasons, there can be no real penetration without a penis. When - wait for it - he falls madly in love with Joey, she tries to make him understand that his advances are inappropriate and that he doesn't respect her identity… before jumping into his arms, in the rain, like in the worst kind of rom-com, and deciding that she’s found "the one".

One night, after some (obviously amazing) sex, she tells him why she ended up falling in love with him, because he "gets her". Ben reacts with a joke: "Can I at least tell people all you needed was some serious deep dicking?" Needless to say, after watching this film I felt like throwing my computer on the floor and setting it on fire. A few other examples? In The Kids Are All Right, a lesbian mother played by Julianne Moore, whose sex life with her partner has gone stale, indulges in an affair with Mark Ruffalo's character (and unlike the boring lesbian sex, their hetero sex scenes are muy caliente). In Gazon Maudit, Josiane Balasko's character decides that she must have sex with Alain Chabat in order to get pregnant. When it comes to TV shows - the only lesbian couple in Queer as Folk faces a serious crisis when Lindsay cheats on her girlfriend with a particularly unlikable jerk (and again, their hetero sex is very sexy while Lindsay — literally! — falls asleep while having sex with her girlfriend.) Same thing in the American Skins, in which the lesbian heroine falls for a boy right from the beginning, or in the Netflix show Dear White People, where we discover that the teacher who refuses to marry her girlfriend to resist "heteronormativity" is having an affair with a young male student. This plot twist applies to the boys as well. In The Wedding Banquet, a closeted Taiwanese gay man ends up having sex with his beard. More recently, in Toute Première Fois, the gay protagonist, about to marry his partner, has to come out "in reverse" to his family after meeting a beautiful Swedish woman. On TV, Clara Sheller's gay best friend ends up sleeping with her, just like Hannah's in Girls, who suddenly becomes interested in the group's hottie for no apparent reason. The list goes on and on… Viewers always complain: why add an all too rare gay character only to straighten them up, even temporarily? This kind of storyline is criticised as an overused trope. The "lesbian sleeps with a guy" plot line is one of the three major tropes condemned by the website "LGBT Fans Deserve Better", that listed 46 characters in this category. "Did we have to do that?" fumes lesbian website Autostraddle about Dear White People. "Haven’t we been fighting against this ridiculous trope for decades?" With this trope, screenwriters also contribute to making bisexuality invisible. The idea that one must be either gay or straight is an example of casual biphobia. Screenwriters, if you feel like the character you are creating could be attracted to both sexes, why not just label them bi?

A cliché that echoes homophobic remarks

Of course, we could oppose to disappointed fans the fact that, in real life, those kinds of stories can actually happen. Homosexuality is not only about desire, it’s also a question of identity. It can happen that a person identifies as “gay” or “lesbian”, because they think it’s the label that represents their identity the best, but one night, they end up with someone of the opposite sex in their bed. Sexuality is sometimes more fluid than cultural identities we identify with. It’s not about banishing those stories from our screens. But we can question their recurrence : why are those stories present so often in fiction when, in real life, it’s frankly not the most common?

Also, in real life, it also happens for example that straight men, drunk or not, end up sleeping with another man. Again, sexuality is sometimes more fluid than the labels we use to define ourselves. But this story is barely told. How can we explain that the gay-who-goes-both-ways cliché comes back so often in fiction, when its straight equivalent is so rare among the ocean of straight roles?

Above all, if that trope is so annoying to concerned viewers, it’s also because it echoes those old homophobic tunes we keep hearing all day, and that it seems to validate : “You’ll find the right man/woman”, “How can you be so sure that you’re not straight? Did you try at least?”, “It’s only a phase”.

With that bonus point for the lesbians : according to some people, a relationship between women can’t be considered “real” sex, so they will end up sleeping with a men at some point. I can’t count how many endless discussions I’ve had with straight people who wouldn’t imagine that I could be not interested by males, even though I’m a lesbian. When I mention my love story, some people can’t help wondering what I do in bed. Of “homosexuality” they only remember “sexuality”, and for them “lesbian” means porn. If you type “lesbian” in Google, the first results you’ll find will be many porn scenes where people of the opposite sex make an appearance. So dudebros think it’s legitimate to try their luck...

[Tweets in the article :]

@BabascoGueria 1 lesbian character out of 1000 and even she has to sleep with a guy. How original.

@BabascoGueria Some homophobes harass lesbian women and are convinced that they can convert them. Thanks for perpetuating that cliché.

What if it was that old idea that gay men and lesbians are above all hypersexual beings, free from norms, with wild sex lives, that made the writers do with them what they’d never do with their boring straight characters? Would it be easier for them to imagine a rock’n’roll Andréa surprising us with her conquests, rather than the boring Mathias Barneville ou the funny Gabriel Sarda— even if, in reality, there are many Mathias who can also have sex with men...

Beyond hetero sex, motherhood

“Andréa is gay but she’s liberated enough to, on a one-night-stand, have sex with a man and not have a problem with it, because her sexuality is mature and fulfilling enough that she doesn’t ask herself questions”, thinks Fanny Herrero. “From the beginning, I knew that this character would have a very rich, complex and liberated libido, and for me that goes beyond sleeping with women. I think Andréa is more modern than that.”

The writer highlights the fact that, on the other hand, she would have never written that same intrigue for the character of Colette, way more traditional. [Colette is Andréa’s love interest. Andréa slept with Hisham after Colette dumped her.]

In Dix pour cent, the hetero sex especially permits to continue with the question of motherhood, since Andréa gets pregnant. “I wanted to confront Andréa with that question, because she’s more rough with her relation to motherhood. I wanted to make a portrait of a woman who becomes a mother differently from what we usually see, I wanted her to be upset by that pregnancy.” For the writer, there’s no question of making her plan an ART (assisted reproductive technology), to make her take a train at Gare du Nord to go have an insemination in Belgium, between two appointments with JoeyStarr and Juliette Binoche. Not the character’s type. It had to happen to her. Hence the “threesome” option.

And that pregnancy is also used to make Colette come back, suddenly moved by Andréa who’s lost in that situation. And that’s where Dix pour cent makes a quite clever move, which puts it, in spite of a few mistakes, lightyears away from Chasing Amy. Hicham being particularly hateful and Colette being adorable, the viewer ends up wishing that Andréa wins the love of her ex-lover back and that the boss of ASK, the biological father, leaves them alone. “I found that interesting to tell myself what the viewers would think : ‘no she’s not going to sleep with a man, we want her to go back with Colette’”, says Fanny Herrero, amused. “I like tickling that kind of emotion.” A plot twist that, for once, we hadn’t seen coming.