Tumgik
#they were fucking adorable those little entrepreneurs
taylormarieee · 6 days
Text
Dollar bills and love Billionaire!Miguel O'Hara
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🎶I'ma take her bougie ass to Rodeo and then let her pick up whatever she want. CC, Gucci, hit Bottega, whatever she want She piss me off, somehow she still get whatever she want🎶
Tumblr media
Summary: You were bratty all day, no matter what Miguel tried to do, take you shopping, buy you food, he even bought you puppies, you were still bratty so he decided maybe fucking it out of you would do the trick.
Pairing: Husband!Billionaire!Miguel x Fem!Entrepreneur!reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Dom!Miguel, sub!reader, annoyed Miguel, bratty reader, PiV sex, oral(f), rough sex, mentions of arguing, Miguel being considerate, Miguel being slightly mean, degrading kink, praise kink, pussy whipped Miggy, mentions of height difference (reader is 5'7 Miguel is a 6'9 kingggg!), established relationship(there married), kinda angst/sadness, animal awareness(please be kind to animals, there so precious and adorable, especially puppies.)
A/N: I'm in the writing mood lol, ENJOY!
Tumblr media
youtube
Tumblr media
Miguel was the best husband you honestly could ever ask for. He was kind and so loving and caring. He was the opposite of what you thought about him when you first saw him.
You own your own business called Size Flows. It's a business for making clothes for plus sized people. Many plus sized people don't get to have clothes like that.
They have to fit in clothes that don't define their curves and beauty properly because the clothes are made for skinnier people. So one day when you decided to throw a party for the celebration of your business being a success you didn't expect much.
Yes, you did send flyers out but you didn't think they were going to reach the higher-higher staff and people in the world. So when famous billionaires and Multi-billionaires and millionaires started showing up into your building, you were shocked,
One of those billionaires happened to be, Lord and Behold, Miguel O'Hara. You were intimidated by him for quite some time at the party. He was tall! That was a fact. He also looked annoyed and mean.
Not really engaging in a lot of conversation like the others did. I mean yeah, the party was at night but it wasn't that late and the party didn't go on for too long so people didn't start getting bored of each other in there.
Eventually you decided to make conversation with him because why not (though you did notice most people cowered and scurried away from him when walking by). So when you arrived at his feet it took about 3 looks to finally meet his eyesight.
He was staring down at you with a tight lipped smile and you looked at him with a wide, happy, inviting one. Your signature smile at most, as that's what your assistant Alexandria says.
"Hello! You must be Miguel! I've heard a lot about you and your work and I must say, I'm intrigued to know just a little at how your mind works.
Miguel had a completely different company from yours, obviously. Yours was about clothes, he built his own museum. It was about like history and about Aerodynamics. The museum was impressive and it was large. I'm talking like, really LARGE!
You honestly couldn't help yourself. You visited the museum about 13 times. A couple with your friends who were into that stuff and like twice with your family and other times with your co-workers who wanted to go on their lunch break. You introduced yourself by saying your name or at least trying to before he cut you off.
"I'm very pleased to meet you Miguel, my name is-" you start off.
"I know who you are hermosa. I've seen your face on the cameras at my museum every time you go." He says.
Your eyes widen. You were so shocked by the cameras bit you didn't even register the intimate name he gave you. 'He's in charge of the cameras. And he's seen me over and over again!?' you thought in shock.
"Your honestly probably one of my most frequent visitors besides a bunch of college boys." he says with a polite smile on his face that makes you feel the need to laugh. He chuckles and laughs with you.
"wow, so you're frequent with the cameras huh?" you ask in a playful tone. He chuckles as he takes a sip of his whiskey.
"Yea, if you say so. I like to make sure my museum is safe and the guests are happy." he responds with a seriousness in his tone.
"Well, I mean coming from number one guest, I must say... I'm extremely happy every time I see the front of the building. Just so eager to go inside."
He laughs again and for the first time, you see a twinkle in his eyes. You guys talk for the rest of the night to the point you're the only two left in the building.
He kindly walks you to your car, which you were forever grateful for and that night ended and more frequent ones with him in it began until you two finally got married.
You were more happy in your life now than you have ever been before. You have the hottest man in the world to wake up to every morning and to say goodnight to every night.
That was three years ago and now, your here dragging Miguel everywhere, looking and searching for stuff you don't need.
Miguel was pissed at you because you were being a bit bratty today. You weren't satisfied and you constantly gave him attitude and sass. He was slowly loosing his patience and his temper the more and more bratty you got.
It got to the point he yelled at you and told you to get in the car both of you arguing for a good 20 minutes on why you were being so bratty and why he was being so annoying and grumpy.
He took you to a pet store. He bought you a tiny little bedazzled blue collar and then told you, "Pick." he said just standing in front of the dog pen with a bunch of puppies running around your legs.
"w-what?" you ask quietly, some forms of your attitude gone. "Pick. One." he says sternly with his jaw clenched. You feel slight fear but get filled with excitement when you see the two puppies you've been wanting forever!
A Corgi and a Yorkshire terrier! They were the cutest puppies to you, well that's a lie, you wanted every puppy in this store but it's not that Miguel wouldn't buy them all, it's the responsibility and care you have to have for them.
The hours you work make it difficult to buy every single one. "Miggy," you start, batting your eyelashes at him, "Can I get them all?" you ask.
There were like 15 dogs in here and you wanted every single one. "mami, no. You can get 2." he negotiates. You pout and your bratty attitude comes back.
"no! I want them all! If not then how about like 8?" you argue the amount with him. He rolls his eyes, once filled with sincerity and love now filled with anger and annoyance.
He usually wasn't annoyed with you when you got like this sometimes but he had a really bad day a work and you arguing with him didn't make it any better.
"No, two. No more negotiating mama." he says as calmly as he can because the last thing he wanted was you flinching and crying at his temper and how scary he got.
He did that once and the last time he did it, you didn't utter a proper word to him face to face for a month. He made you so scared and for a second when he raised his hand you flinched.
You genuinely thought he was going to hit you. He immediately stopped raising his voice at you after that. You allow it sometimes when you're arguing but you don't raise your voice at him that much because you know his temper and his patience.
"ok, how about 4? is that ok??!" you ask with those puppy dog eyes and that cute little pout he loves to see in different circumstances if you know what I mean.
"ok mama, and that's it." You get 4 collars for their genders one pink, one red, one green, and one violet. You got a Dachshund, a Yorkshire terrier, and a French bulldog and a Shih Tzu.
-The Dachshund was a boy and you named him lucky. (he got the red collar.)
-The Shih Tzu was a girl and you named her princess. (she obvi got the pink collar)
-The French bulldog was also a girl and you named her cleo. (she got the purple collar)
-The Yorkshire terrier was the last you chose and he was a boy and you named him stripe. (the name is because he was black and had a brown stripe on his face and he obvi got the green collar)
"That'll be $1,375 sir. And would you like to donate to charity for dogs in need?" she asks with a smile on her face.
"Ok, and yes I would like to donate!" Miguel responds with a smile on his face matching hers.
"Oooo! No Miguel! Can I do it instead? Oh, please hermoso, lemme do it!" you beg you wanted to be part of that cause.
"Ok hermosa, go ahead but lemme pay for the doggy bowls and the food and all the beds and everything else ok?"
"Miguel that means i'll have to buy something! Leave the doggy bowls out, I'll buy them because you'll have to press decline." You explain to him.
"No, I'll pay some to charity and then you pay some." He says smiling glad that your attitude is over.
"If you both don't mind me asking, how much are you donating? I run the charity and I'm just curious." The lady who you now know her name to be Sam, asks.
"Oh I'm paying 500,000 dollars." Miguel says nonchalantly like it's nothing. Her mouth drops.
"And i'm paying 600,000." I add with a smile on my face. Miguel dips his head back down at me and narrows his eyes like it's a competetion.
"Never mind 700,000." he says eyeing me up and down.
"800,000"
"900,000"
"1,000,000" I say finally winning.
"I'll pay 900,00 Sam." Miguel says smiling at her. The lady is crying now and you rush over to hug her.
"Oh poor thing. I have just as much love for dogs as you do. My dog died a couple weeks ago and i've been dying for a new one. That's why we're here so i'm glad we were able to help." You reassure her hugging her.
She mutters a sorry for your loss as she's fighting back tears and you smile feeling tears run down you face as well. Animals were such a big part of life and they brought so many people happiness.
To see the way so many people mistreat animals really crushes your heart. You both pay and walk away with happy smiles and 4 happy puppies with a new home.
You wave to the other employees as they finally realize who you and Miguel were. They asked for pictures and hugs. You gave that to them and then bid them a farewell.
"Thank you Miguel, I really needed this." You say with more tears in your eyes. His face softens and he hugs you and kisses your head. "It's ok baby. I have one more surprise for you at home." He says with a smirk on his face.
You decided to be a tease. The entire car ride you acted bratty and all mad because he wouldn't let you get all the puppies.
You knew exactly what the surprise was so that's why you acted like this. The surprise was sex, you knew it was. That smirk he had on his face in the pet store showed it. He was horny and now frustrated so that only meant one thing...
ROUGH SEX! You loved rough sex with Miguel so much. He would always degrade you and then praise you. He was just so bipolar during sex but whenever you made him real mad and pushed his limits like you are right now,
It always led to hateful, angry sex, well maybe not hateful but really angry, rough sex.
"Get out." He says through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. Your eye's go wide still keeping up with the act. "No Miguel! This conversation isn't over." You say stubbornly sitting in your seat.
"Fine. Then I'm getting out and I'm going to feed the dogs you're neglecting right now." He says with an eyebrow raised and a shrug.
You gasp and cross your arms over your chest. Your body and the car slightly shakes with Miguels slam to the door.
"what a jerk." You mutter under your breath but sometimes you forget your husband has super hearing and you also have a trunk, that happened to be open...
SMUT INCOMING: MDNI!!!!!
"Hmm love? What was that? Oh. I'm a jerk? mhmm mami, I'll show you a jerk." He says in that sultry smooth voice that had your knees buckling, every. single. time.
You let out a sigh as you watch him go into the house( aka a big ass mansion.) You wait until he goes fully inside. He closes the door but you still wait a little just for good measure.
When you walk in, something pushes you against the wall and Miguels lips are instantly on you roughly. You whimper and he grips your throat.
Your hand rushes to his hand around your throat and he growls biting your bottom lip, drawing it back before letting it spring back to it's original place.
His grip on your neck only tightens as he pushes his crotch against you. He flips you around roughly and your face and front part of your body hits the wall hard, his hand still on your neck.
You moan at the feeling of his crotch pressed against your ass now. "You wanted me to be a jerk right? Your so fucking ungrateful baby but damn are you beautiful." he growls in your ear, clearly fed up with your bratty attitude.
"Guess daddy is gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you huh? ¿Es eso lo que quieres, puta sucia?" He asks you. You loved when he dirty talked to you in spanish, it turned you on so much.
"Mhmm, want you to fuck it outta me papi." you say in return, your voice low and seductive. He grins against your neck before biting it roughly. causing you to. cry. out.
He licks over the bite and you whimper, your legs clenching to find some sort of friction. "Nuh uh mamacita, no trying to please your self. Spread em open baby." He says in a soft voice he didn't have a second ago.
You hesitantly oblige and spread your legs. "Good girl, look at that, mi niña bonita es tan buena para mí." he says proudly.
you smile to yourself before he's picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you up the stairs to your shared bedroom.
"Miggy, i-i'm sorry, I won't be bratty again! I promise." You beg him with pleading eyes when he rests you in the bedroom, on top of the bed as he slowly climbs on top of you.
"No. Don't do that. That's what you said last week, and last month. Every time you beg, I have mercy on you and let it slide, not today baby. Me lo tomarás como una buena chica, ¿verdad?"
"Yes daddy, I'll take it like a good girl for you! I promise, i'm sorry."you respond. His hand trails up. and down your body agonizingly slow and it's making you anxious and needy.
"mhm, daddy, can you fuck me now, please?" you beg. He looks at you and shakes his head.
"No, mi amor. Shut up, and maybe I will." He says roughly. Your eyes start to tear up, not from his words but from his actions.
I mean, I guess you deserve it but he didn't have to be this slow. You stay quiet for the next 20 minutes? you don't even know anymore cuz you lost count.
He finally dips his head, kissing down your stomach, your clothes long gone. He finally reaches where you want him. His warm tongue flat against your soaking cunt.
You let out a relieved sigh, "mhmm thank you thank you thank you miggy." you chant out breathlessly.
his tongue dips inside of you and that alone has you winded. Your breathing his ragged and your hands immediately flying to his hair as you tug on it.
"What'd I say, hmm love? shut up or I stop." He says sternly, your cunt now feeling empty without his tongue. He licked and sucked and prodded at your entrance multiple times.
Soon making you come undone. Your legs closed around his head and you cried out as he licked up every single drop you had, not letting any at all go to waste.
Once he stood back up and met your teary eyes, he smiled. Not a genuine, happy smile, no. It was this smirk that he made when he knew he won, when he knew that he had your little mind wrapped around his finger.
He begins moving the belt to his pants and all you hear is a grunt. You don't even register his cock slipping and sliding through your slick folds.
"Joder mi amor, te sientes tan apretado a mi alrededor." he moans out as he slides his cock into your entrance. You feel so tight around him. Like virgin tight.
"Gonna beat this pussy real nice baby, No quiero que camines por el resto del fin de semana. No walking at all mama." He whimpers when your walls clench around him.
He's pounding now. First it was small, slow thrusts to ease you into it but your pussy is just too addicting. Miguel was so lost in your pussy, he doesn't even realize how hard he's pounding in to you.
His pace unrelenting, even after he made you cum for a second time. Your pussy feeling overstimulated and sore but Miguel is too entranced to care, constantly muttering out cure words and how good you feel wrapped around him.
You felt your orgasm coming as your walls fluttered around him again. He groaned at the feeling and roughly thrusted into you yet again.
"This pussy is all mine, such a fucking brat. Now look who's a mess over my cock hmm hermosa? Mierda, eres una jodida puta para mí, cariño." he says aggressively, enunciating his words with his thrusts.
You scream out and chant Miguels name over and over again while your orgasm rushes through you. you claw at his back and pull on his hair. You've left little tiny crescent shapes in his biceps.
He finally cums inside you at the same time and he releases this animalistic, primal groan and you shudder at the sound. You moan when you feel his hot warm load burst inside you.
"Fuck Miguel." you pant out before sleep over comes you. You were so weak and so tired.
Tumblr media
It's a little later in the night, 12:32 to be exact. You look at the clock and then look behind you to find a sleep Miguel with his arm under your head and the other keeping you close resting on your stomach.
You turn until your face is in his chest. You had Miguels shirt on and underwear. He's so sweet, he must've cleaned you up when you passed out.
Your hands run through his hair lightly and you smile at his resting face. You kiss his face, then his nose, then his lips and the his neck.
You loved everything about Miguel and you hope he knows it. How tall he was compared to you, how he had such a sweet soul behind that mean facade. Everything about him was drop-dead gorgeous.
If you had the option to relive one memory with Miguel, It would be the first time you met him. So kind and such a gentlemen.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @oharaslover @ribbonprincess @willyoubemycherryy @cherryredstarsreblogs /@cherryredstars @versatilehater @dustbunniess / @evbunnie
694 notes · View notes
eemcintyre · 11 months
Text
Random thoughts I had during my fifth viewing of the cinematic masterpiece "Cocktail" (1988)
Well... more like my 5 2/3 viewing bc I got like 2/3 through it and then my mom was like "why didn't you tell me you were gonna watch it, I would have wanted to watch it too" so I lied about how far I was through it "there's still a lot left we can start it over" and I watched the same movie almost twice in a row in the span of a few hours :)
"Wild Again" by Starship is one of the only good songs tbh, although "Addicted to Love" and "When Will I Be Loved" are also pretty alright. But the soundtrack is lowkey horrendous imo
I stand by my previous standalone post- no one has ever been that excited to get on a fkin Greyhound bus
Benefit of the bus, however- the scene with him and the baby; I feel like Tom just vibes really well w kids because he's such a smiley, fun, and chaotic lil guy and gREAT now I have baby fever again thx 💖
Oh the blatant plot exposition about his parents that they beat us over the head with oh-so-subtly
Oh the foreshadowing throughout that is even less subtle
One of my favorite quotes in any movie, bc it makes me feel better about my life being in disarray and not knowing what to do about it, I guess, is the “Most things in life, good and bad, just kinda happen to ya.”
Tom's still got his high little baby voice 😩
Even as a college graduate, the interviewing scene hits way too hard 🥲😩
Someone needs to acknowledge that the Red Eye looks like the most disgusting thing
Wish the dress shirt and tie fit had been featured more because it does things to me, but the scenes contrasting his first and second shift at the bar are when I first developed TC brain rot and fell in love w that lil goofball
I can’t judge the girl giving him the "fuck me eyes" bc have you seen him, plus she’s showing restraint compared to what I would do tbh
The adult learners usually drove me nuts in my classes (which I know is terrible but shhhhh) but I felt so bad for Sheila Rivkin
This professor really thinks he’s doing standup comedy or smth
Honey don’t put your face on the subway stairs that's arguably more disgusting than a Red Eye
The timeline of this movie is pretty hard to follow tbh; much as I adore it, you never know every time a scene changes whether it's been two days or like 3 months
What the actual fuck was the whole yuppie poet thing about- it's like when I used to watch those 60s Frankie and Annette movies where the weirdest shit would just happen for no reason and I felt like there was some social commentary or inside joke or smth that was just going way over my head that, if I had existed in that time, would have just been like "oh yeah that makes total sense"
The amount of raw sexual energy that this man exudes- I remember someone's post from a while back that was like "why is Cocktail like a 'mom' movie that all the moms are still obsessed with" but just like imagine if you saw this in theaters when it first came out
The only man allowed to wear beach shirts and look sexy, change my mind
I've always thought Elisabeth Shue is so incredibly underappreciated as an actress, smth about her line delivery and expressions just seems very genuine and naturalistic idk
She just orders “a beer” WHAT KIND???
So scary tbh how much he was becoming like Doug even being apart from him for a while
The side eye and shade Jordan gives Doug in this scene cracks me up every time without fail
The reggae singer absolutely popping tf off in his silver lamé suit ✨
Brian and Jordan both pulling the “I’m not like other girls” lmao
Sure she’s lowkey a manic pixie dream girl but I still love her
WATCH THE ROAD WHILE U DRIVIN THE CAR BRIAN 😤
If this movie was remade in modern times (God forbid) Brian would 100% be one of those guys with a hustle culture boss up motivational entrepreneur Instagram account. And Doug would perhaps be one of those cringy creepy pickup artists that talks about low-value women and compares them to horses and thinks he can mind-trick them into falling madly in love w him
If someone was waking me up early every morning to drink carrot juice I would commit crimes
The artist guy who made that exhibit looks like the oiliest man I’ve ever seen
Jordan’s dad says “bartender” like it’s a slur
When Brian tears up the check it always makes my lil heart just 💗💫🥺 the character evolution
Why did I only have this thought on my like fifth viewing of this movie, but I wonder if he hadn’t escorted Kerry back to her apartment if he would have gotten back in time to save Doug, and then who knows what would’ve happened bc then he wouldn’t have felt compelled to tell Jordan how much he really loved her and ask Pat for help and all that
WHEN HE FIGHTS EVERYONE OFF TO GET TO JORDAN what can I say, I'm a sucker for grand and melodramatic romantic gestures and proclamations of love
The teasing and singing along at the wedding is getting a little too real guys stop making this awkward 👀😬
I don’t care how unrealistic the end is, and that in real life they would have 100% soon gotten divorced, bc I want to believe that people can change and that all of the tribulation was worth it + enough for Brian to become a good dad/husband and successful but with it not being above and at the expense of his family; he would be such a fun and chaotic dad and their life would be so hectic w twins but I want to believe they could do it :( it comforts my cynical and depression-addled brain to believe they could do it :(
9 notes · View notes
afrog-inthemachine · 3 years
Text
Had two little kids, probably 6 and 4, walk up to me in DC today to ask if i wanted to buy a candy from them for a dollar. When i expressed regret and explained that i dont carry cash, the 6yr old responded with "it's ok! We take cashapp too."
You what
17 notes · View notes
Text
headcanons cause i’m in flarrie hours
they are THE couple when it comes to halloween costumes
all their outfits for big events (parties, gigs where dirty candy and/or jatp perform) are coordinated
carrie my femme queen & flynn my nonbinary lesbian darling
go to protests & marches together
flynn lends carrie books by her favorite Black female authors & carrie lends her books by her favorite sapphic poets
they make playlists about each other but the other doesn’t know they do it (julie & kayla are the only ones permitted to know of the existence of these playlists & have been sworn to secrecy, though julie has a strong suspicion carrie also makes playlists about flynn and vice versa)
have a joint pinterest account for their wedding moodboard
carrie adopted a tiger cub and named it flynn for their three month anniversary
they go to the mall together every other weekend and shop, which they both love to do and when they get home they always model the new outfits they bought
flynn squeals every time they see a dog in public and always runs over and asks if they can pet it and carrie always watches her with such a fond look that the owner almost always makes a comment on what a lovely couple they are or asks how long they’ve been together (something that has actually been happening since even before they were dating, and back then you can imagine the flustered ness it caused)
flynn often comes to watch dirty candy rehearsals, cheer them on, make sure they’re staying hydrated/taking snack breaks and that carrie’s not overworking herself
carrie is the first person that flynn tells she wants to DJ professionally and carrie gets her her first gig
eventually flynn gets into producing as well and ends up making a track for carrie, who writes lyrics to it and it becomes dirty candy’s most successful song to date
carrie says i love you first one saturday afternoon while they’re watching a movie on flynn’s computer in her room. flynn laughs at a joke and carrie looks over at her, her beautiful, incredible girlfriend, and simply can’t resist the urge to say it
flynn’s shocked into silence so carrie panics and leaves and doesn’t answer flynn’s messages
that night flynn shows up at the wilson mansion and throws rocks at carrie’s window until she comes out
flynn is upset with carrie for running out and ghosting her and carrie’s trying to defend herself so they argue but then flynn interrupts carrie by kissing her and breathlessly saying, “i love you.” carrie kisses her and not another word on it is said
carrie steals flynn’s hats
they’re not really PDA-y, they just happen to engage in a lot of unconscious, casual affection, like flynn often absentmindedly intertwines their pinkies and carrie doesn’t realize her arm is around flynn’s shoulders until she’s doing it
even after months of dating will still flirt like they’re in their enemies who are secretly very attracted to e/o era
flynn really loves art, particularly murals, so she drags carrie to a lot of gallery openings and museums
at one point when flynn’s going through a hard time carrie enlists all their friends for help making a giant mural full of drawings of things that make her happy
flynn happy cries when she sees it and is pretty much always seen hugging carrie for the rest of that night
only really cuddle when one (or both) of them is sleepy, though flynn does often sit on carrie’s lap
before starting to date, carrie would tease flynn for having stuffed animals during their sleepovers at flynn’s until they started dating and flynn started spending more time at carrie’s and flynn discovers that her girlfriend’s a little hypocrite
flynn has a younger sister and brother (sister is six, brother is four) and they absolutely ADORE carrie and think she’s the coolest and carrie thinks they’re the cutest
flynn’s like no they’re little demons and carrie’s says who says demons can’t be cute? you once called me a demon right, and im cute, aren’t i? and flynn rolls her eyes and fights back a smile
flynn also has a college aged older sister who she looks up to a lot, like that’s her hero and absolute role model, so naturally carrie’s terrified to meet her, and though she tries to appear intimidating at first, she can’t keep up the act for long and starts being friendly with carrie pretty much right away
one day they’re supposed to go on a date but carrie’s sick and forgot to text flynn telling her not to come so flynn shows up at her house but stays anyway to look after her
flynn reads to her and makes her soup
trevor & flynn play video games while carrie naps
flynn makes jewelry in her free time and consults carrie for her thoughts on every piece (in junior year she starts selling them at school & turns out to be quite the entrepreneur)
they have an inside joke about cosmo and wanda
a couple of the dirty candy members sometimes jokingly flirt with flynn and are like “watch out! we’re gonna steal your girl!” and carrie gets possessive and apologizes for it pretty quickly but flynn thinks it’s hot so it works out pretty well
will watch bad rom coms to make fun of straight people and throw popcorn at the screen when they get together
pet/nick names: care, baby, babe, love, (from carrie to flynn who shuts down upon hearing it) honey, (flynn to carrie, who becomes very giddy the first time flynn says it in a text message) sweetheart
if you couldn’t tell before they ofc have an enemies to friends to lovers arc
move in together after graduating, neither planning on going to college (julie goes to berkeley and nick some other place in california where they have lacrosse cause that’s the sport he plays right) and their parents think it’ll be a disaster but it actually goes really well
the first couple of weeks they fight more, all petty arguments mostly out of the stress of moving, but they always talk it out
it doesn’t take long for them to be happy they’re living together and feel really glad they took that step
two years after graduating flynn gives her a promise ring
carrie cries her eyes out and replies “of fucking course, you dumb fuck” when flynn asks if she’ll take it
ten years later carrie’s a successful pop star/choreographer & flynn’s a record breaking producer/DJ and they’re about to buy a house when they realize they never got married
it’s just a moment where they’re relaxing together on the couch and suddenly are like. oh
and proceed to burst out laughing
it’s a small ceremony, thrown together in just three weeks
carrie wears a short, light pink dress with a heart cutout in the back that would probably be more suited for a high school sophomore’s spring fling but no one cares
flynn wears a suit, and is walked down the aisle by her older sister
they both tear up upon seeing each other and sob through the vows (the traditional pre written ones, they wrote vows for each other but they recite them to the other when they’re alone, so it’s something special only they can share)
julie & kayla are the maids of honor, nick and alex are the best men
julie & luke’s five year old hernando is the ring bearer & alex and willie’s three year old umi is the flower child
trevor, flynn’s older sister and parents cry
even flynn’s now teenage younger siblings, who as of late have often been stereotypically cynical and moody shed tears
jatp perform at the reception (they have also become a hit band at this point)
when they get back from the honeymoon the first thing they do is get a dog
they adopt a golden doodle rescue named stella
a couple years later they start talking about kids and look into getting a sperm donor
because they love being competitive they do little games to decide who will be the one to carry the baby
it’s all jokes though, they decided at the start of the process that it would be flynn for the first kid and carrie for the second
but then SURPRISE flynn has twins
a boy and a girl named tyler and ollie (who’s who i won’t tell you cause fuck gender)
they don’t even talk about carrie getting pregnant now cause they’re busy with the babies and trying to manage their careers but one night, when the kids are eight, and flynn has just flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh after putting them to bed, carrie puts down her kindle and quietly says that she wants another kid.
they talk for hours because while flynn wants another kid too, when you’re both celebrities with demanding jobs and people constantly trying to peer into your life, that decision involves even more factors
they decide to have another kid and carrie chooses to take a step back from her career for now-she’ll return to it eventually but for now she wants to be able to just be a parent without worrying about work and not have to deal with the guilt that comes with working when she feels like she should be being a parent
though the kids have always been their main priority and they have done quite well dividing their time between work and being with them, and have done decently shielding them from the public eye (majority of the pictures of ollie & tyler that the public has are blurry candids, and the few high quality ones are from when they were three and they no longer look like that anyway so it’s all good)
it’s a harder process for carrie to get pregnant as she’s almost 40 and flynn was 31 when she had tyler and ollie
but it happens though they’re careful about choosing the sperm donor-even briefly consider asking reggie or nick-because with this kind of thing there’s always the risk that other parent could track down where their kid ended up and want to be a part of that kid’s life later on which is uber complicated for many reasons so they get those scary possibilities out of the way by just finding someone who they know wants to be in the child’s life
preston choi, a thai & korean american mathematics professor ends up being their guy
he’s immensely genuine, sweet, respectful, polite, and gentlemanly
when he came out at fifteen his parents kicked him out of the house
it was a long and difficult journey but they’re in a decent place now
but it’s not the family he wants to have and he’s tried but has yet to find a partner
but doesn’t want to wait to have kids so here he is, more than happy to co parent with flynn and carrie
so that’s what they do! tyler and ollie become big siblings to miles wilson-choi on december 10th, 2044
miles grows up in the most multicultural home ever, being fluent in 4 languages (English, AAVE, Spanish thanks to their tia julie, Korean, and Thai) all their life
tyler & ollie welcome preston and miles into the family with open arms, as well as the addition of korean and thai cuisine to the already amazing dinner tables they had of soul and caribbean food
when miles is seven carrie goes back to work full time, with preston’s assurance that he’s got this when her and flynn are busy and tyler and ollie (who are now fifteen) promising they’ll help out as well
at that point the long awaited julie and the phantoms/carrie and flynn wilson collaboration FINALLY happens
flynn wins her 28th grammy for it, leaving her tied with beyoncé for most grammys won by any woman ever (its julie’s 14th, luke’s 6th, and carrie’s 12th, and the band’s collective 10th cause alex never did any solo projects and reggie released one country album but it didn’t win any grammys rip though it was nominated for 2 CMAs)
19 notes · View notes
ratingtheframe · 3 years
Text
Why Armie Hammer’s Scandal Is More Than Kink Shaming
The 34 year old actor has had numerous allegations thrown his way this past month, from cannibalism to an obsession with BDSM. But do these allegations go beyond a widely accepted community of kink lovers and venture into deeply rooted misogyny?
Tumblr media
Warning: this article contains mentions of cannibalism and sexual assault. 
For those of you who aren’t aware of Armie Hammer’s presence on screen, you may be scratching your head and wondering what on earth people are talking about, seeing the cannibalism aspect to this all as face value without making the connection between Hammer’s past behaviours and current allegations. The actor who rose to prominence in Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher’s The Social Network (2013) playing both of the Winklevoss twins, has become quite the favourite amongst the film industry. His role Oliver in Luca Guadagnino’s Call me by your name (2017) has sent Twitter into a permanent frenzy as memes and daily adoration for Chalamet and Hammer’s on screen romance continue to thrive even 4 years after the film's release. As well as Call me your name, Hammer is known for roles in Sorry to Bother You (2018), Rebecca (2020), On the Basis of Sex (2018) and soon to be released, Death on The Nile (2021). He currently has another film due to be released and a Call me by your name sequel in development. Sounds as if he’s got a lot going for him and despite him not being the biggest star to be churned out of Hollywood today, the recognition is still there and with that, he’s still being paid. 
Tumblr media
The Allegations
At the beginning of the year, an account emerged under the handle of @houseofeffie, that was created to expose some lurid and unpleasant communication between several women and Armie Hammer. Some of which he had relations with whilst married to his now ex wife Elizabeth Chambers. The nature of these dms are incredibly disturbing and worrying considering that Hammer not only has children but as an actor, spends a proportionate time around women.
These are just a few of the messages that were exposed that led the media to brandish Hammer as a “cannibal”:
Hammer:
 “You are the god damned standard I hold women to in terms of kink and enjoyment of fucking the[n]...”
“I need to drink your blood, why the distance?” “...thinking of holding your heart in my head and controlling when it beats”
“I am 100% a cannibal...I want to eat you....Fuck...that’s scary to admit..”
“I’ve cut the heart out of a living animal before and eaten it while still warm”
“You were the most intense and extreme version [that I’ve ever had]. Raping you on the floor with a knife against you. Everything else seemed boring”
“You [were] crying and screaming, me standing over you.  I felt like a god. I’ve never felt such power or intensity.”
“You just live to obey and be my slave”
“Would you come and be my property till you die? If I wanted to cut off one of your toes and keep it with me in my pocket so I always had a piece of you in my possession?”
“I want to see your brain, your blood, your organs, every part of you… I would definitely bite it...100%”
Tumblr media
...O-kay. Lots to unpack here. First and fore mostly, I’d like to address the kink shaming element to all of this. I personally don’t see any harm in kinks, BDSM, pornography, as long as people are consenting and aren’t inflicting unsolicited pain upon people. Therefore, kink shaming and finding Hammer’s taste in sexual preferences isn’t what we are here to discuss. In fact when I first read the allegations, that wasn’t even my initially thought. CNN posted an article two days ago titled “Armie Hammer May Be Disturbed, But Is Shaming Him the Answer?” an opinion based article by Aaron Weaver that explores the allegations and believes Hammer shouldn’t be shamed for his kinks. But this begs the question whether Hammer was actually being shamed? I didn’t see much evidence for this seeing as people were mostly horrified by his taste in human flesh than anything else, a kink that is uncommon in the BDSM community and is only practiced by the most extreme. 
Tumblr media
Kinks aside, the most worrying thing about the DMs above is the way in which he views women and their bodies. It’s clear to see that he might not have much respect for women seeing as he proudly states his willingness to cut them up and drink their blood. And funnily enough, the sexual objectification of women’s bodies for one's own sexual pleasure without considering their comfortability is classed as misogyny. A reddit user made an extremely good point on a thread about Hammer’s scandal stating:
“To me, the problem is not that he’s into rough sex, or that he has kinks some people find scary. It’s not about yucking his yum, so to speak. I’m more concerned that he may have ignored safe words and pushed his partners beyond their limits. I feel like the media is focusing so much on his kinks and sexuality as opposed to his ignoring of consent, which is a complete and utter inversion of priorities”
Past Relationships
Tumblr media
Another example of Hammer disrespecting the boundaries of women and sexual pleasure would be his past girlfriend Paige Lorenze. Lorenze is a 23 year model and former professional skier who has shone a light on Hammer’s worrying behaviour and his involvement in BDSM activity. The sources of Lorenze’s allegations are highly unreliable, which is one of the most frustrating things about this entire charade. The BBC BRIEFLY covered the fact that Hammer dropped out of his latest film amid the allegations, without fully going into detail about the allegations or the abuse subjected towards his former partners. It just goes to show we’re rubbish at taking abuse seriously enough to the point where people are punished for their wrongdoings. Had a more reliable news source covered this story, then it’d make it more viable to the public. Even though this scandal is in its early days, that doesn’t necessarily mean it's unimportant or should be swept under the rug along with the hundreds of other scandals that Hollywood refuses to expose.
Tumblr media
Only the Daily Mail, The Sun and Page Six seem to have gone in depth with the accusations, making the entire story rather murky for the reader. Anyhow, Paige Lorenze said to the Daily Mail that Hammer had carved an ‘A’ above her groin without her consent and licked it whilst it bled. He had also reportedly tied her up and hit her with paddles to fuel his BDSM obsession and sexual desires. Lorenze was quoted saying 'Any man who is fantasizing about crushing bones, eating them, having sex with female limp bodies is a danger to all women'. Hammer insisted to Lorenze that his behaviour was normal, and that there was an entire community of people that carried out the same things he did on her. This is partially correct seeing as the global sex play market is worth over $30 billion, with practices in such activities dating back to the mid 19th century. However, the one thing the BDSM community doesn’t condone is not giving consent, which is where the fine line is drawn in between Hammer’s sexual preferences and the BDSM community. His choice to carve that ‘A’ into Lorenze isn’t backed up by a wider community of people who enjoy a variety of sexual pleasure. Lorenze claims he also DMed nude photos of her being tied up to people without her consent, further perpetuating Hammer’s lack of respect towards people’s boundaries. This is a serious incident, that sees someone with more power (Hammer is 6’5 and Lorenze is 5’6 btw) assert their dominance and by doing so, degrades and harms someone else. We shouldn’t be kink shaming Hammer, but shaming him for thinking that this behaviour is acceptable.
Tumblr media
Hammer’s previous relationships can also draw some light into his lack of respect for women. He and his wife Elizabeth Chambers divorced in July 2020 after a decade of marriage. Though it's unknown what triggered the separation, these recent allegations may have something to do with it. Furthermore, two other women have come forward to express their distaste towards Hammer and his questionable fantasies. Entrepreneur and ex-girlfriend of Armie Hammer, Courtney Vucekovich, told Page Six that Hammer wanted to “break [her] rib and barbecue it and eat it”. She also expressed how easy it was for Hammer to charm his way through into getting women, especially young women into doing what he wants through “active manipulation and making you feel like he’s never felt this way about anybody.” Lorenze was also subjected to similar retort after reporting that Hammer too wanted to barbecue one of her ribs because she “didn’t need it”. Writer Jessica Ciencen Henriquez took to twitter last summer after a lunch date with Hammer and expressed that she had blocked him on Instagram. She later went on to tweet this:
“If you are still questioning whether or not those Armie Hammer DMs are real (and they are) maybe you should start questioning why we live in a culture willing to give abusers the benefit of the doubt instead of victims”
Exactly my point here. There’s not much to this scandal other than the fact that several people were hurt and undermined and someone else caused it. Someone who is societally above everyone because of their race, class, status and gender, with a well connected and dominant family support system. 
Tumblr media
His background and past 
Hammer comes from a very powerful and wealthy family. Hammer’s great grandfather, Armand Hammer, was the chief executive officer and president of the Occidental Petroleum company founded in 1920. Now if you’re wondering the exact scale of such a company that is still running today, they are the 4th largest oil and gas acquisition in the entire world worth over $100 billion. ONE HUNDRED, BILLION, DOLLARS. Not all actors in Hollywood can say that their great-grandfathers were worth that much, which gives me little hope in seeing Hammer be held accountable for what he’s done. He was also kicked out of UCLA after apparently not “being able to do it”.  Just another rich white male with enough power, malice and money to work his way around any struggle.
Tumblr media
Now that we’ve established Hammer’s allegations, it’s worth looking back to see whether the signs of such behaviour were already prevalent in the numerous interviews he partook in over the years. Complex highlighted an episode of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert from 2017, where the host brought up Hammer’s obsession with knots, to which he laughed off and claimed that “knots make sense” that they are a “language” and referenced how man used knots before the wheel. Valid points but ones that are debunked in light of his interest in BDSM. during a 2013 interview with Playboy (appropriate) Hammer expressed that his “sexual appetites changed'' when he married his wife and that hair pulling used to be something he enjoyed but could no longer do now that he was married “even though he wanted to”. This is quite the backwards comment when we’re talking about respecting boundaries and it's clear to see it was only a matter of time before his desires could no longer be repressed.
Tumblr media
Since this whole shit storm began to travel Hammer’s way, he has since dropped out of the film The Billion Dollar Spy, which would’ve seen him star alongside Jennifer Lopez. BBC News reported that this move was made as Hammer stated that “I cannot in good conscience now leave my children for four months to shoot a film in the Dominican Republic” following the ‘vicious’ online abuse he’s been subjected to. Hammer was again put in the firing line by Grand Cayman law enforcement for lying about a woman provocatively shown in a video was Miss Cayman of the Miss Cayman beauty pageant that’s held on the island. He and the woman were warned for their misconduct and had confirmed the matter is now closed. 
Final Thoughts
Tumblr media
There are enough red flags in Hammer’s behaviour to open up a flag store, and I would go as far as to say that this isn’t the end of it. For someone who’s grown up having the majority of things they want, it's easy to want more beyond morality and despite the discomfort of others. Hammer’s move to drop out of his latest film was an attempt to lessen the blow of hate being turned towards him as opposed to the benefit of those he’s hurt. So far, him and his lawyer have denied all allegations and further action hasn’t been taken against the Hollywood star. He’s apologised for the DMs and brandished his actions a “foolish attempt at humour”. 
Wrapping his own behaviour up in humour is an attempt to detract from the severity of the behaviour itself, whilst excusing it, something he can get away with because of his status. 
Major media outlets haven’t done much in even attempting to expose this man’s behaviour and have left it up to unreliable sources to piece together the true persona of Armie Hammer. Though innocent until proven guilty, common sense is widely available to the general public meaning we should be delving into the past a little and comparing it to these allegations. Along with Hammer’s character, family and unnerving Instagram posts of cutting up meat and eating raw steak, there doesn’t seem to be much in the actor’s favour. 
All I would say is as a director, producer, writer or actor, would you feel comfortable in being associated with someone who believes they're a cannibal and marvels at the idea of drinking human blood? Or someone who goes as far to objectify women to the point where they become nothing but sexual fulfilment and pieces of meat? 
That’s all I’ll say and those who do feel comfortable doing such a thing means that Hammer may still have a career at the end of the day. One point to Hollywood, no points to political correctness and respecting women. 
14 notes · View notes
goodnightallwhites · 4 years
Text
Daugherty's Daughter By BlackingPacking
Daugherty's Daughter 
By BlackingPacking 
Submitted: November 30, 2019 Updated: November 30, 2019 
Slutty white wife and mother, Charlotte Daugherty, cuckolds her husband Dan. He takes out his impotent sexual frustration on their daughter, who soon too becomes a slut for BBC 
Contains: NTR/Cuckolding, Interracial (Blacked/BBC), father-daughter incest, SPH, dubcon, very extreme 
Provided by Hentai Foundry.  
Chapter 1 - Cuckold's Frustrations 2 
Chapter 2 - Charlotte Gets What She Wants 11 
1 - Cuckold's Frustrations 
Dan Daugherty always got his wife everything she wanted. He worked for a large finance company, so he could definitely afford it. He and said wife, Charlotte, lived comfortably in their two story house with their beautiful young daughter, Phoebe. Charlotte was now nearing 40, the decade she often teased her scrawny, brown-haired husband, who was a few years older than her, for being. Still, she kept up with herself. She hadn’t worked for well over a decade, since Phoebe was born, and always spent her days at spas, salons, or get-togethers with her girlfriends. Sometimes for days on end. Dan payed for it all, of course. He was used to paying for women. 
It wasn’t only his wife. In his company, Dan was a middle ranking employee, with enough power to manage promotions that could get people higher, but he was never good enough at his job to manage much more. This meant that sometimes, timid little Dan got over his head, socially. 
This came in the form of a hot blonde girl with big dreams, big tits, a big ass, and a tiny waist. She had straight, strawberry blonde hair, and a little nametag saying Kara on her sweater. She’d work with Dan and saw how, whenever he had to talk to his wife, he never looked at ease. She took advantage of this, and eventually got him to let her suck him off. 
Under his desk, Kara put on her reddest lipstick she had on her fat, dick-sucking lips. Excited, she pulled down his pants to see... to see... 
Well, it sure was a penis. A short, needle-like one at that, nestled in some curly brown hair on his crotch, but none on his body or legs. Still, Kara wanted that raise. So she sucked him in between her lips, and not very far past, until he came in about a minute and a half. 
“What an adorable little penis,” she told him, “I’m sure your wife doesn’t give that cute dick of yours the attention it deserves. Only I see how great it is.” She’s tell him things like that all the time, making him think she was in love, until she got promoted and forgot all about him. Now Kara was his boss, and made sure to always strut in her office skirt around him. She pinched his ass and called him ‘pin dick’ at the coffee machine. She was dating some black male model now, which she never failed to flaunt. “Ever hear of BBC?” She’d ask the young office girls like she was a fucking missionary. She knew she hated missionary. “The rumors are true,” she said. He’d heard one of the office girls got a tramp stamp larger than her hand about wanting to fuck black guys. He hated Kara now, but at least he was happy with his wife. 
One weekend though, Charlotte left the house on friday and didn’t respond to her husband 
until she strutted through the front door in a new white dress with gold jewelry and her blonde hair curled beautifully. In her cream-white stilettos she was at least Dan’s height, and he wasn’t physically imposing at all either way. Besides, her little hubby couldn’t stop staring at how her bouncy tits and impossibly sexy ass looked in that dress. How could he deny her. 
The next weekend, the same thing happened. That sunday evening she returned, she wore a sky blue dress, much shorter this time, and even bigger gold jewelry. It was so short that when she walked up the stairs, he could see right between her legs and her asscrack. He stared at them like a pervy little boy. 
When he tried to fuck her that night, she said she was too tired. Still, he hadn’t got to stick Danny Jr. inside any part of Charlotte since his birthday. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom, sitting his unremarkable body on the toilet and jerking his 4 inch dick off to his own wife a few meters away until he came into the bowl. 
She promised him she’d call the next weekend. They spoke exactly once, during her lunch on Sunday, when she said she’d be coming home. 
That night, in bed, she said she wasn’t horny again. He tried to touch her pussy, but she easily swatted away his thin-wristed arms. Still, he could’ve sworn he felt her wetness. That’s when he began to think she was cheating on him. 
He wasn’t willing to confront her, of course. He hoped it was something else. That Wednesday, Charlotte brought home a shopping bag. In it was a sex toy. She said she wanted to ‘spice up’ the bedroom. That meant that she got to fuck herself with that 8 inch blue silicone bullet, while he wrapped one small hand around his cock and jerked off on his half of the bed. He thought about her cheating on him with a guy that big. A guy twice his size. Unlike last week, he came buckets. 
She felt generous then, and actually let him fuck her on Thursday. She spread her full, curvy legs for him. Her lace panties dangled from one ankle. Thrilled at finally being allowed to have sex with his own wife, he grabbed onto her, buried his face in her big, soft jugs, and fucked her as hard as he could. It lasted all of two minutes. The rest of the night, she fucked herself with the dildo again. Friday was the same. She went out, bought some new makeup, ate at some overpriced hippie cafe, and fucked herself with her new dildo that night as her hubby curled up beside her. 
Charlotte was cheating on him, of course. She met up with a black young entrepreneur, Purcell, who owned one of the African fusion restaurants she frequented. He always talked about African culture, revitalizing black youth. He had posters of Black Panther and Creed on his loft bedroom walls. Charlotte often saw them when she was riding his 12+ inch monster of a dick. She couldn’t see them so well when her back was pushed into the mattress as he drilled her deep. She always squirted on those perfect abs of his. He made her a screamer. 
The loudest she screamed though was when he put it in her asshole. For the first few times, on her nights out before that first weekend, it would hurt when he’d simply fuck her pussy. He was 3 times bigger than the dick she was used to having, after all. But soon she got stretched out and used to it. A few weekends in, that was why she bought the dildo. Dan would definitely know something was up if he tried to fuck her before. She was being generous by getting a dildo halfway between the two men in her life’s size. When Dan felt stretching, he assumed it was the toy. 
Her birthday was coming up though. The big 4 0. Purcell had promised his busty, leggy girlfriend the time of her life that weekend. But Dan also wanted to give her a real treat too. Charlotte has to do the right thing. The Friday before her birthday, she was outside Purcell’s apartment complex around 6pm right when Dan was getting home from work. She wore jean hot pants and a tight crop top t-shirt that said ‘you aren’t big enough for these.’ What a total slut. She called her husband. 
“Hey Dan, it’s Lotte,” she said boredly as he picked up. 
“Oh- um, hey baby, how’s it going? Gonna be home soon?” 
“About that, honey...” she trailed off. 
“What? Hey, I know things have been a little rough between us, but-“ 
“What? I think we haven’t been happier in years, Danny.” 
“Oh-“ he paused. 
“Do you think I’m cheating on you?” She said curtly. 
“I- buh- duh- what? No, of course I don’t think you’re cheating on me. Why would I think that. I mean, sure... my mind wandered a little wondering why you’ve been spending weekends away, but-“ he didn’t finish his thought, just running his thin fingers through his pale brown side-parted hair. God, he was dense. 
“I have been." 
“I trust you enough tha- wait, what?!” He jumped 
“I’ve been cheating on you for a month and a half now. I love you, and I want the best for our daughter, but- I also met this guy. His names Purcell, and he’s black, and he owns a restaurant, and he’s huge- well, I already said he’s black,” she giggled. Dan was speechless. “But the point is... I love him too, and I really want his birthday gift for me. Not 
that I don’t want yours but... his dick makes me feel better than your little one ever has. You just can’t make me cum, you haven’t once since college... but I promise things’ll be as wonderful as they once were if you let me do this. And I know about Kara.” She paused for effect, “so- can I?” 
“I-I-I-“ he breathed, unable to make a sound. “Yes babe, of course.” He muttered. His default response when his wife asked for something. 
“Great! Love you hun, I’ll send you pics!” She hung up just like that. 
Dan wanted to throw a hissy fit. How could he be so weak willed? How could he let his wife walk right over him like that? How long had she known about Kara? Had that been why she had to leave him- cuckold him- with a black guy? He ran into his walk in closet, expecting to cry but instead jerking off. 
He shot his load onto the carpet, and kept stroking his little dick, imagining a huge black dick pile driving his wife’s pussy. He remembered her talking about her parties in high school, how she’d always let guys fuck her before she mellowed out her senior year. Was she like this even then? How many guys in her hometown were black? 
Suddenly, Phoebe walked in, wearing short shorts and a teal tank top. “Yeah, I don’t think dad’s home. Better that way, since my door doesn’t lock, and the water’s shut off to the other upstairs bathroom.” She was on the phone. “No, I don’t wanna do it downstairs! It’s.. weird if I do it in the guest bathroom. Especially if I’m thinking about my dad!” 
What was she talking about? “You’re lucky. You got to finger yourself to your dad with your door locked.” Fingering?! “You’ve done it downstairs- wait, but I always complain that Uncle Bryce’s downstairs didn’t lock. You fucking perv!” 
Bryce... that was Charlotte's brother! You knew that Phoebe was close to her cousin Martha, but was that who was on the phone? We’re they talking about- fingering, though? And what was that about dads... 
“Yeah, talk later Martha,” that confirmed it, “have fun flicking your bean in the guest toilet to your own fuckin dad like some weirdo. I’m gonna masturbate using my dads soap and shower head, like a normal girl.” He totally ignored how much trouble he should be putting his daughter in. Dan’s little dick was hard. “Oh shut up, you jilled off to your dad first. Well I think MY dad’s hotter. Whatever, Martha. Bye, have fun!” She hung up and turned the shower on. Dan, behind her, stepped out of the closet onto the marble tiled floor of their expensive bathroom. 
“Wha- DAD?!?” Phoebe jumped, terrified as she realized what she’d been caught saying. She already had her shirt and bra off, revealing her flat, underdeveloped tits. She didn’t look 
like she would inherit her mother’s tits or ass. She looked like a girl who wasn’t old enough to be masturbating, or shouldn’t be. Her height didn’t help either. 
“D-dad,” she spoke with fear and embarrassment. He reached out and turned off the loud shower. “I-I- this-“ 
“What were you saying about me?” Asked Dan. He was ecstatic- he lost his wife, but he’d been gifted his own daughter! Phoebe was often neglected. Charlotte, that materialist bitch, preceded to hire the maid to care for her daughter. But now, Dan has a chance to prove himself as the real patriarch of this family, not some- some- some nigger who Charlotte’s big tits here were wrapped around right now... 
The thought made Dan seethe. But now, he could take out all his impotent rage on his whorish wifes own daughter. Her tiny frame would easily be overwhelmed by even his small cock. It might not have even been incest. Phoebe probably wasn’t even his. He was going to make her his though, and Charlotte would regret messing with him. 
Finally, she answered. “I- I’m turned on by you, dad... when I see mom kiss you and when you tap her ass... I wanted that too and... I’ve been thinking about it for a while... I’ve really wanted you to fuck me,” she looked up at him, suddenly terrified again, “-a-as a fantasy though! Not as an actual thing I was planning on, I swear, daddy!” 
“Oh, but,” he growled, trying and failing to sound aggressive, “I want you too,” he grabbed her thin waist and pulled her close, making her jump a little. Her flat chest barely shook. 
She looked up at him with green, pretty eyes. His were hazel. He blamed his stupid slut wife. 
“Really?” Asked Phoebe, reaching out to touch his nonexistent pectoral. 
“Yes, Phoebe baby. Your mom and I..” he grit his teeth.. “aren’t doing too well. I think I need you to make me feel better. Can you do that?” He took his hand, walking backwards towards his room. 
Daddy’s little girl, Phoebe Daugherty nodded. “Y-yes daddy. I’ll make you feel good. I’ve never done anything with a boy but I’ve seen porn. I’ll try my best.” 
“Good girl,” he said, feeling more dominant than he ever did with Charlotte. He walked out onto the carpet of the master bedroom and sat down on the large chair on the left of the bathroom doorway. Dan pushed the footrest out of the way and had his daughter kneel there instead. His rage at his own impotence and his hatred for how Charlotte was cuckolding him right now made him forget that this was even his baby girl. 
Charlotte, as Dan undid his pants again, was miles away in the stylish, urbane, gray loft 
owned by Purcell. She strutted in happily, swaying her fat white ass in the shorts that barely covered it. Purcell was on the couch in front of a table of African artifacts. He got up and welcomed her with a deep, tonguey kiss and a slap on the ass. 
“Wanna give me my present now, babe?” She breathed hotly into his wide lips. He smiled and led her into his room, where she was shocked by the presence of three more black guys. Like him, they were all over 6 feet tall and muscular. They all wore some variation of a t short and running shorts that did nothing to hide their bulges, just like Charlotte’s tiny t-shirt did nothing to hide her cleavage, or her under boob, or her hard nipples. 
“Oh- oh, my!” Charlotte’s cock-needy lips and pretty blue eyes went wide seeing the display. While her friends had introduced her to BBC porn a full year ago, she had only ever actually slept with Purcell. Now she was getting 3 new hung black guys. 
“You like my friends babe?” He asked. She nodded, pulling up her red bikini bottoms she wore under her shorts. “Glad to hear,” she bit her lip. She was getting wet just by hearing him speak. “Ever had guys run train on you?” 
“I-“ she had been in a gangbang once, as a senior in high school. Those boys were all white though, and she wasn’t the only girl there. “No,” she decided that a half dozen white guys humping her legs until their little pink dicks turned purple and shot a load like she was a Barbie doll they got to undress didn’t count. “I’ve never. But I’d love too.” 
“Hear that, boys?” Purcell slapped Charlotte on her as. Charlotte took it with a smile. They smiled back as they took off their shirts, showing the kinds of muscles that were the reason Dan never took her to the beach. She took off her wedding ring and fell into their big, strong arms, letting them kiss her and grope her. She had to look straight up to make out with the tallest one, while the one made out with her neck and another literally tore her shirt off of the swinging spheres of her tits. She liked that shitt. But she liked how they pressed their huge bulges into her sides much more. 
Meanwhile, Dan was struggling to overpower his own tiny daughter, desperate to fuck her silly. His destroyed ego demanded that Phoebe fuck him, and, although she was planning to masturbate to that very thought before he grabbed her, she was resisting. 
“Daddy- unf~ Daddy!” she pushed his arm off her nonexistent tit, while his other one was down his pants, grabbing at his dick. “This is wrong! We shouldn’t do this!” she insisted 
“Phoebe! Phoebe, please!” He yelled. He had never yelled at his daughter. His hair and eyes made him look like a mess. “D-don’t you wanna make me feel good?” 
Phoebe did want to make her dad feel good... and cum... but she wasn’t sure. Sure, he was deciding for her basically, but he never acted like this around her. He was always very 
passive, never making her do anything. Now... this? With the drip of her pussy in those short shorts she was this close to taking off, she knew she wanted it too. 
“Okay Daddy...” she breathed, hoping to not make him angry, “I’ll make you feel good.” 
“Good girl,” breathed Dan. Instead of taking his dick out though, he felt up her chest again. She was still flat as a board, but whenever he thought of his ideal tit size, all he could think of was how Charlotte probably had a huge black rod between hers. She did. He just kept massaging his daughter. Those soft, sensitive, unmanly hands of his felt her sides, her hips, and, when he bent down so far that his face was in her neck, he felt the doughy softness of her asscheeks. She turned crimson. 
He breathed heavily, overcome with perverse lust. “D-daddy’s gonna bring out his cock now, sweetie,” he told her. She simply sat on her knees with her hands on her silky thighs. He fumbled on his pant’s buttons, desperately wanting them out. Eventually he got it, and in one swift movement, he pulled his pants down to his ankles. 
Phoebe, the incestous little slut, was face-to face with her father’s own tiny, white cock. Her eyes widened, and her pussy immediately dried up. 
“W-what is that?” she asked him. 
“My dick,” said Dan, sounding nothing like her father, even though she barely knew her father. He pushed the skinny thing towards her, “Suck it.” 
“B-but why is it so small?” Phoebe really wanted to pleasure her dad, to suck him off until he shot a huge load in her face. But... this? How could she love a cock that was barely larger, in any way, than her finger? If she made a fist, it was more than twice the size of his balls. 
To her shock, the then hit her face. Not hard, he wasn’t man enough to do that. But still, a slap was a slap. 
“What did you say?” he asked her, suddenly only seeing her mother in the beautiful young girl. 
“Y-your penis isn’t that big, daddy- I-I’ve seen much bigger in porn, I’m sorry-” 
He raised his hand again, “You’ve been watching porn?!” He knew that when his wife began masturbating by herself, it was all over for him. He couldn’t believe the same was happening to his daughter. 
“N-no! I- I meant good! Your dick is sooo good, daddy! Look-” almost crying, she began to suck it. It tasted strange- plain, not at all sexy. Once, she sucked her own virgin pussy juices, 
and that got her hotter than ever before. This did one of that, even when his precum started leaking, it just tasted like water. She sucked and sucked as well as she could. Phoebe had no idea how to suck a dick, but, at the very least, her dad’s was so small that it fit right in between her little lips. He didn’t have to worry about scraping on her teeth or choking her. 
She wrapped her tongue around the quivering little white pin she desperately tried to satisfy. Dan felt great by this. He leaned his head back, and finally relaxed, as if it wasn’t clear to everyone now that he was just a pathetic, creepy white guy. His own daughter wiggled her tongue around his pencil shaft. He wasn’t even into incest, but, the quickshot that he was, once her saliva-coated tongue finsihed licking the tip of his dick inside her mouth, he started cumming. 
His orgasm was drawn out, with thin ropes of cum spraying into his daughter’s mouth slowly. It had no power or force, nothing sexy at all. She would never masturbate to her dad ever again. Instead, she just spit his cum out on his hairless thigh. 
“You’re supposed to swallow!” he yelled. Not that Charlotte had ever swallowed his cum, since he usually popped his teeny top before he even shoved it in her mouth. Phoebe just looked grossed out. His dick, as much as she wanted to love it, was now an ugly, throbbing purple. It looked like it would pop, and it wasn’t big enough to look like it should be throbbing. She said nothing 
Back in the loft, Charlotte was getting absolutely rammed. She was on the red futon, getting to experience how it really felt for BBC to run train on her. A black guy was under her, slamming his dick deep in her babymaker with his balls slapping her taint. Two more were in front of her, making her stretch her cheeks out like a chipmunk to suck both of them off at once. She was terrified of what would happen when their monster dicks, big enough to dwarf rulers, would blast their cum in her gullet. It felt so good. 
Best of all, on top of her, with hands on her shoulders and arms on the armrest, Purcell was fucking her ass, raw. No matter what the others did to her, Purcell had stayed in her asshole the entire gangbang. His 40th birthday present was a 12 and a half inches (Charlotte liked to say 13) deep of rough anal sex. His cum had been churning deep in her guts, and his thrusts now had been picking it up and making it froth out like runny butter. She felt her whole asscrack, taint, and pussy feel covered in melted fluids. If it ever got too messy, she’d just lick it up herself. She loved it. 
Her husband, meanwhile, had grabbed their little daughter and bent her over the bed, facedown, ass up, despite her protests. Without even seeing his wife lover fuck her with his massive dark fuckmeat, BBC had already totally mindbroken the timid white man. Here he was, forcing his crying daughter’s face into his and his wife’s bed’s comfoters. He spread her legs apart, staring at her beautiful, but dry pussy. 
With his pinkish red dick standing as hard as a needle, he lowered his skinny torso into her slim thighs, taking his daughter for himself. He molested her with whiny grunts, the kind that Charlotte was absolutely done with. Frustration was something that Dan had been faced with all his life, and now he was letting it all out on Phoebe. The frustration he had since the first time he first found a porno mag with huge dicks when he was fourteen, all the girls he jerked off too but wouldn’t date him, to all the porn he watched when internet porn first got big in college, even when he was dating Charlotte. All of it, all directed in his pathetic thrusts into the tiny girl. 
As he raped his virgin daughter, she felt every twitch of his dick like only a girl her size could. Even though it felt far bigger in her than her mother would’ve felt it, she didn’t enjoy it one bit. He joylessly came in her pussy, shooting his white load into her just deep enough so that its small contents couldn’t even drip out of her. He told her to get out of his room, and he slept. 
Meanwhile, Purcell had finally taken his painfully hard cock, having cum in her anus 5 or 6 times, out from between her thick asscheeks, letting her suck the soaking member clean. He and his friends gathered around Charlotte as she kneeled on the floor. They jerked off and let her jerk them off and suck them off until she looked like a bukkakke porn star. Once they all came, she was exhausted, but they wanted more. They tossed her back on the futon and had their way with her. 
Purcell came deep in her pussy enough times with enough force to not only make her squirt hotly, but to get her pregnant too. 
She would be furious with Dan when she got home, but she didn’t know that yet. Even her daughter hated Dan's small, perverted white cock more than anything. For now though, Charlotte was blissfully having the best fucking sex of her entire life. 
To be continued... 
2 - Charlotte Gets What She Wants 
“You did WHAT to her?!” screamed Charlotte. Her big slutty tits swung with every word. 
Dan, emasculates and afraid, shrunk down onto the cushions of the light gray, modern style couch. On the other side of the coffee table, Phoebe was curled up. She looked at her father with nothing but hatred. 
“YOU SICK FUCKING FUCK,” Charlotte kept screaming, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOUR STUPID PUSSY ASS DO TO OUR DAUGHTER? What the FUCK did you do?” 
“I-I-“ he backed up, scared of his adulterous wife. Dan was in a t-shirt and boxer underwear, while Charlotte was in a pink sundress, and Phoebe was in a tank top and volleyball shorts. 
“You AGREED I was going to have a FUCKING MARVELOUS weekend- and it’s all ruined this morning by a call from my FUCKING DAUGHTER about her IMPOTENT BITCH OF A DAD FUCKING RAPING HER WITH HIS STUPID TINY COCK! Am I WRONG?” She slammed her fist against the couch with every word. 
Dan was, as always, too wimpy to disagree. 
“Mom- wha- what’s going on?” Asked Phoebe. 
Charlotte turned to her beloved white daughter. She walked over and knelt in front of her, saying, “Oh, sweetie, it’s mommy’s business. Grown up stuff, nothing you’d understand.” 
“Mom,” said the girl who, even though she was babies, was still old enough to regularly watch porn and masturbate her smooth little cunt. 
“What? Yes, baby, mommy’s here,” Charlotte calmed her down, “mommy’s just, um, got a new boyfriend that’s all. And sometimes mommy goes and sees him. That’s okay, right?” 
“Mom,” grumbled Phoebe, “I’m not fucking 6. I know you cheated on him!” 
Charlotte looked back. She paused. “Alright, yes- mommy cheated on daddy. I’m a fucking whore, a total fucking SLUT cockwhore bitch. But you saw him! You saw that your dad is a sick, perverted, useless, weird piece of trash, right?” 
Phoebe nodded. “He’s so gross! I’ll never think the same way of him again! I mean, I guess it’s the same for you, mom, but at least you’ve got a reason. I... I’d wanna get f-fucked by a real man too! And he’s... hes just-” 
“A little fucking L O S E R?” her mom volunteered. Phoebe nodded along. 
“H-hey,” stuttered Dan. The scrawny white man crawled up from his fetal position, “S-she was on the phone, talking about sexual things with her cousin! About having sex with me and your brother! A-and she watches porn too!” 
“Didn’t I tell you to SHUT THE FUCK UP!?” screeched Charlotte. Her cuck hubby was soon put in his place. “So what? She’s young and stupid. We were too, remember? The difference is, when I had kinky fantasies, you were always too pathetic to do them! You’d fucking cum in a minute and then roll over and go to fucking sleep! If you wanted to rape someone, rape me ten years ago! Then I wouldn’t have become a fucking anal fuckslut! This is your fault!” 
With shaking arms, she turned to her daughter, “And of course I wouldn’t judge you for watching porn! That’d be such fucking hypocrisy! After all, I’m the one who had a train run on her with four fucking black cocks last night! The only problem Phoebe and her cousin has is they still think white BITCHBOYS can do it!” 
“F-four?” Dan sounded like he was tearing up. 
“Oh fuck yeah honey. My REAL man Purcell and three of his friends.” The room went quiet. “What? Oh, yeah, stay quiet. Because there’s nothing you can say about how I’m a fucking whore for biiiig, blaaack COCKS! I fucking fit four huge fucking black dicks up this asshole,” she pulled her dress up and showed her gaping anus to her husband and daughter, “They fucking shot their fucking cum all the way up my dirty fucking asshole. And it’s fucking thick too, unlike yours! I bet you fucking wish you could do that, huh? With that fucking little stupid 4 inch peice of shit! Do you wanna know how big my lovers were?” 
“H-how big?” asked Dan weakly as he was slumped on the couch. 
Charlotte noticed a tiny tent on her loser husband’s boxers. She wrinkled her nose at it, but then lunged at him. She grabbed at his underpants. Her boobs swung in his face. She easily overpowered him, throwing hus underwear on the floor. 
Exposed to his ruined family was Dan’s four inch skinny little white boy cocklet. It stood up straight and hard in the thin, soft bush that was his excuse for body hair. 
“Fucking fuck. Look at that pathetic LITTLE thing. My BULLS were fucking three times that big! The smallest was 10 inches, the biggest was fucking 13! THIRTEEN! How could your little fucking dick compare, huh? HUH?” 
She turned around. Phoebe was staring at his penis with disdain. Though neither girl thought penis was the best word. 
“Is that it, sweetie? That’s the thing that defiled you, right?” asked Charlotte. 
Phoebe nodded. “Yes, mom... it’s fucking gross. I can’t believe I had a fucking incest fetish...” 
“It’s alright baby- it’s alright. Look. Hey, BITCH!” She yelled at her husband, “I’m gonna get our fucking daughter some good porn with some good dicks so she can forget about your little loser thing, 
alright? And never touch her again, you- you- you fucking sick fucking fuck!” She punctuated her scolding with a few sharp kicks to his tiny, shaking balls. 
“AAAh! OW OW OW! H-HONEY- m- my-” 
“Your what? Your fucking little cuck balls? The ones that can’t produce enough fucking sperm to make a girl feel even fucking halfway filled! Look! Look...” she walked over to Phoebe. “Take your pants off, baby. I wanna show him how different cum can be. And how, even if this shitbag who owns our house took your virginity, your sex life can still be a fucking blast, alright baby?” She asked her daughter. Phoebe nodded and slipped off her leggings. Charlotte hiked her skirt all the way up. 
Both were smooth pussied, but Charlotte’s was shaved, with looser, darker lips, while Phoebe’s was natural. A pretty pink tight pussy. She might has well have been a virgin. 
“Now spread your legs,” instructed Charlotte. Phoebe obeyed. “Now look at the cum left over from last night.” The house’s matriarch fingered her daughter, eventually coaxing out a flow of sticky liquid which dripped onto her hand. Charlotte grabbed a china plate from the coffee table and smeared Dan’s cum on it. 
“Look at that,” whispered Charlotte mockingly, “look how thin it looks!” she was right. Dan’s shrivelled balls had given them watery, impotent cum of either a boy much younger or a man much older than him. It only even looked white when it was clumped together. 
“And now,” she said while standing up and spreading open her asscheeks right over the fancy plate, “mommy’s black boyfriend’s cum.” she pushed hard and stretched her asshole out with two fingers until eventually a big steady stream of smooth, thick, rich, creamy cum came out. All of it was plump and healthy. It landed with a splogsh and made a big, opaque puddle on the plate. It was almost yellowish it was so creamy. And it totally eclipsed Dan’s tiny load. 
“See who’s superior?” asked Charlotte. 
“T-that’s a wedding gift...” was all he could whimper about the show on the expensive plate. 
“Oh boo fucking hoo, I squirted black cum out of my ass onto our shitty wedding present,” she grabbed a matching china cup and brandished it, “What if I fucking pissed in this one and made you fucking drank it? How would you feel about that, huh?” she waved the cup around under her pale white crotch, “if you’re lucky maybe you’d fucking get to drink some of their delicious cum with my piss. How about fucking that? You should fucking respect what I do for you and listen to what I fucking say! Ungrateful little pervert piece of shit! Apologize!” 
“Yes,” he curled up again, this time closer to the edge of the couch. “I’m sorry Charlotte... I’m sorry Phoebe... for being a perverted POS.” 
“Good. Now I have an errand to run. Don’t you even dare fucking move. And don’t even FUCKING LOOK at Phoebe!” she pulled her skirt down, grabbed a coat and her purse, slipped back on her slutty high heels, and strutted out the door. 
Once she was gone, Phoebe got up. She sniffled a little. Even though her pussy’s wetness said that, like her mother, she got off on being a snowbunny dom, she was still upset at what happened to her family. 
“I hope you’re happy with mom only fucking black guys now. And never you, ever again,” she said as she took out her phone and opened it up. 
Dan sniffled too, sounding more like a bitching little dog than a man. He wasn’t the man of this house anymore. He hadn’t ever been, since Charlotte discovered black cock, but now he knew it. His head was buried in between his smooth, effeminate legs, and he was sitting on his scrawny ass and feet, with his tiny little balls poking out from his crotch. It looked like a pale hackeysack covered in thin straw. Wasn’t much bigger than one either. Over it hung the soft, impotent little worm that was his cock. Keyword was. Now it was a useless little twig of flesh. 
Dan pissed himself. His little dicklet perked up, and out of it came a steady, pale flow of piss from the organ which now was only for that. It tinkled all over his little balls. The hair got wet, but looked no thicker. Some got on his thighs, covering his pointless manhood in his cowardice. He was like a dying animal, emptying his bladder all over himself when he felt it was all over. It was, in a way, for him. He cried as he soaked the couch cushion. 
Phoebe walked over to the front entryway, on the side of which was a cushioned, round area to the left of the front door, bordered by windows. She sat down in it to talk on her phone. She’d already gone to contacts, and scrolled to the number for Kevin. 
Kevin Gold was a young white kid and a school friend of Phoebe’s. He was around her height, with light blonde hair with a touch of strawberry, smooth skin and a youthful face. He was average in body, but still rather attractive, and was madly in love with Phoebe Daugherty. Little did he know, she had a crush on him too. 
When he picked up the phone though, he answered as her best friend. 
“Hey, Phoebe. What’s up?” 
She sniffled, “I don’t know, Kev. My parents are fighting, and... I don’t know how to feel. My dad’s a piece of shit, but my mom’s... so different about it. I think I got it. But I think I’ll be fine. I just need someone to talk to. Can we talk? Not about me. About... about something else. Okay?” 
Kevin, of course, agreed. They talked for a bit, and Phoebe felt better. Kevin told her to just trust in herself. With some soul searching, Phoebe realized how different she felt. How her slutty black cock loving mom awakened something in her. Just then, Phoebe had to hang up, because her mom was back. 
She walked back into the living room. Her dad was still sitting on the couch, but not crying anymore. 
Charlotte burst through the door. Shopping bags were in her ams and a strange smile was on her face. It was a look she hadn’t had all day. From the moment she walked in and said, “Alright, my happy little white family, let’s see what the real world has for us,” both new something was up. 
Phoebe was getting excited. She was proud to be this woman’s daughter. While she had very quickly grown to despise her father, she replaced all of that with how, sexually, she admired her mom so much more. Her mother looked like a million bucks- she put some makeup on, maybe did her hair a little, but that wasn’t the point. If her hair was a rat’s nest she’d still be the same. Her sexy body filled out that lilac dress perfectly, and the way she carried herself made her tits and thighs ooze with sex appeal. She was a woman who knew and got what she wanted. Fuck whatever her disgusting, cuckold husband had to say about it. 
Charlotte looked down at Dan and saw how red his eyes were, and how the couch under him had a soaked puddle. 
She exploded. “WHAT THE FUCK, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE PEICE OF SHIT? DID YOU FUCKING PISS YOURSELF LIKE SOME FUCKING LITTLE BRAT? YOU PISSED YOURSELF AND ITS ALL OVER YOUR USELESS, UGLY LITTLE STUPID IMPOTENT DICKLET, UGH AND YOUR BALLS AND MOST IMPORTANTLY MY FUCKING COUCH? YOU’D BETTER CLEAN THAT UP!” 
Dan squeaked and got up, running to the kitchen to get paper towels and spray. 
“Good,” she hissed, “like a good little dog,” she turned to their daughter, “So, how are you feeling now?” 
Just as her mom was honest, Phoebe was too. “I like what you’re doing. Dad’s always been... a little weird. But now I realize it wasn’t the kind of weird that, um... gets me wet. But what you do, like, like, the way you take control? I like that. I wanna be like you. And this talk of black guys?” Charlotte grinned. “You like thinking of that. Those massive, throbbing, lengthy, hot black dongs? You ever seen porn with black guys?” Phoebe quickly turned beet red. Charlotte smiled, “It’s good if you have. I’m so fucking jealous that you’re already exposed to porn at your age. I didn’t even have the chance to get online porn until I was almost 20! And there wasn’t anywhere near as much Blacked stuff then.” 
Phoebe worked up the nerve to nod ‘yes’ to her mother. 
Another smile. “I’m so proud of you!” she beamed, like momma like daughter, Phoebe had more than enough for the seed of a braindead snowbunny slut to grow in her underdeveloped white little body. She might not have been as busty or curvy as her mother, but Phoebe promised there and then to be twice the alpha girl slut. 
And poor little Dan, having cleaned up his mess, tried to stand up to speak to his wife, but was soon knocked down. “NO! Me and my black bulls own this house now, not you! If you wanted to be a man, you shouldn’t have been so weak, or whiny like a baby. You should’ve been able to make me cum! But now I’ve got better men for that. And speaking of...” She took out her phone, turned on apple TV, and showed off her photo gallery. 432 pictures and videos were taken last night. A cache of amateur pornography featuring one Charlotte Daugherty and 4 black studs. 
She started playing the videos. First was one with her kissing the camera sluttily, then walking back to pose with Purcell in a wide variety of ways. The next video showed her pointing out the bulge in his 
pants, then taking his shirt off to make out with him and lick his hot black abs. He flexed a bit for the camera before going to the next vid. He took it out in that one, and Charlotte’s whole family got to see how it was as long as her arm. 
In the room, while a video of the other three guys unsheathing their meats played behind her, Charlotte stripped her dress of. Her perfectly smooth pussy and her bouncing tits were great, and she didn’t wear underwear, of course. She sung ‘happy birthday to me’, as the TV had her giving Dan the middle finger. 
“Come on!” Said today’s Charlotte, “let’s get some fun group stuff going. Family porn night! Starring mommy!” She grinned evily as she sat down next to Phoebe. She encouraged her daughter to strip. Her pants already had a dark stain. 
Dan and Phoebe began masturbating across the room to the TV showing Charlotte lick all around the heads of all their cocks. The lady of the house ran off upstairs to get her dildo. When she came back, Phoebe was lounging back, butt naked, and confidently flicking her little bean to her mom gasping at the huge loads of cum that were now getting dumped on her face. Meanwhile Dan was hunched over pathetically. He tugged his little cock hard. It’s tininess, along with his boring hairstyle and skinny bday, made him look like a child compared to his daughter. And forget his wife. 
“Oo, look at him!” Laughed Charlotte, tapping Phoebe’s shoulder to get her to look over, “little losers trying to tug that tiny thing! Isn’t that fucking pathetic? Can’t you see why I need this?” she laughed, pulling the thick dildo out of her. Phoebe laughed too. 
“But mom, you take a bigger one in the vid,” she pointed at her screen with her free hand. 
“True- this toys just to tide me over. Better than hubby, you know?” She thrusted it into her gaping pussy a few more times. Her nasty juices flew across the room with a loud shlicking sound. Phoebe’s only trickled down her taint and onto her little pink pucker butthole. Charlotte took out the plastic cock and handed it to her daughter, “wanna go?” 
Phoebe shook her head, “I can’t take that.” 
Her mom smiled, “You’d better learn soon baby girl, if you wanna get blacked.” 
She stared at the size of the thing. “Never seen one up close but... it’s scary,” she chuckled, “I’d rather just watch.” 
“Then you’ll get tons of live shows.” 
“Mmmm. I’m already loving this. Just as good as the pro stuff I watch.” Phoebe was referring to Charlotte getting her ass pounded and her blonde hair painted white by those black hunks. 
“Thats cuz they’re black,” giggled Charlotte, “white guys in porn always wear fake dicks, that shoot fake cum and all that. Interracial’s real though. No faked orgasms there.” Charlotte put her leg up on the coffee table and aggressively rubbed her clit, “and I’ll never have to again.” 
They kept watching as Charlotte deepthroated every black cock. Every vid ended with them cumming their manly loads into her throat. They led her to the bedroom, with the camera on her swaying ass, where she had a train run on each and every hole. She was made airtight, first by their huge cocks and then by their thick cum. 
They just kept going. Dan usually got petered out after he came once after a few minutes, then rolled over and slept as Charlotte uncomfortably masturbated until she fell asleep. These guys seemed to have infinitely full balls . After they made the bed dirty with spilling loads, they tossed the tired white whore onto the floor, jacking off over her. They set the foundation for a full body coat of thick black cum. 
With a pathetic groan and three fingers wrapped around his dick, Dan started cumming. Instead of shooting anything out of his needle-like pink dick, it just dribbled onto the floor. 
“Ch-Charlotte,” he groaned. 
“Shut the fuck up! Your daughter and I are trying to masturbate to PURCELL’s friends running train on me. Purcell could cum like 9 times last night without a problem. Can your stupid balls only muster one fucking load? Try and at least be man enough to make another load!” She shut him up. 
Then there were the ones on her face. Tons of cum was unloaded onto her cheeks, in her eyes, on her cleavage and hair. It just kept going, until she was barely even fucking them any more, and just being jacked off too. Soon, every inch of skin above her knees hand some sort of man juice on it. Mostly her pussy, under her ass, her tits, and her unrecognizable face. She got to the point where their fat loads of cum landing on her weak white skin made her cum. Every single time. 
“See Phoebe? That’s what real men do. Not like your dad over there, cumming into his hand.” 
Phoebe looked over. Her dad was leaking out thin white juices onto his scrawny fingers. “How’d you even get pregnant?” She asked her mom. She paused. “Is he really my dad?” 
Charlotte looked away from her husband as he collapsed exhausted on the ruined couch. “Well, I’m shocked he managed to get me pregnant even once. But you’re his alright. I’d never cheat with another white boy. But hey. You got my beautiful eyes.” 
“I kinda wish guys like, unf, unf, that,” she pointed to the TV, “were my dad.” 
To clean off, they dragged Charlotte to the shower, where she could barely stand. Instead she pumped their cocks, worshiped their balls, and even rimmed their assholes. All their cum newly clogged the drain. After, they made her dry them off, and then lick up their cum off the floor. 
At around 2 AM according to when the video was taken, she passed out when she was halfway done, facefirst into a puddle of cum. 
Phoebe came. 
“Aaah!” She yelled, thrusting her hips over the armrest of the white cushioned couch. Her orgasm squirted all over dad’s men’s health magazines that he never read. “They really did that, mom?” 
She nodded. “It’s weird telling you, sweetie, but yeah. Mommy’s a fucking abuse slut for big black cock.” 
“It’s hotter than weirder. God, that was the best I’ve ever cum.” 
“Well, that’s black guys. And now” she kept swiping through her phone, showing them photos of the bulls taking advantage of Charlotte’s unconscious body on the tv. Weird things were stuffed in her asshole, and she was fucked in multiple uncomfortable positions like a rag doll. 
“Fuck,” Charlotte bit her lip, “I didn’t know they did- did- did... did that!” Her pussy exploded with a waterfall of orgasm, even wetting the TV screen a little. 
“There it is!” She sat back and sighed, “it’s like every time I cum to black guys it’s better.” 
A bit after, she saw Dan getting up. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” She asked, less angry now. 
“C-cleaning up my mess?” 
She laughed, “your widdle loads? Barley a mess. And don’t do it with clothes on. Strip.” 
“I-“ 
“Did I fucking stutter?” 
He frowned and stripped. He prided himself on looking youthful, but honestly he just looked pathetic. Thin, featureless white skin, and a fitting tiny, soft little penis, barely poking out of his crotch. 
She smiled as she walked over to pick up her bag, “good, baby. We’re not going to pretend you’re not pathetic and inferior anymore in this house, alright sweetie?” 
“Yes, dear,” he got on all fours to wipe up god cum. She ran her foot up and down his effeminate asscrack possesively. 
“And we won’t be bringing what you did to Phoebe to the authorities because you’re going to admit that you’re a pathetic little cuckold, and us ladies are gonna be enjoying all the black cock we want now.” 
“W-what?” 
“Yes babe. Did you think I was gonna stop cheating on you? After realizing what a freak you are, I can barely stomach you now. But I might forgive you if you let me fuck all the black guys I want, when I want, where I want, and how I want. Not for some reward, but out of the goodness of your heart. Sound good?” 
He looked down at his flaccid manhood. It was as wimpy as he was. He nodded in agreement to her terms. 
“Great! That makes me so happy Dan, you don’t even know!” She dishes through her bag and got a box out. The back was legal fine print and faced Dan, “can you say it?” She asked. 
“I- I’m a white cuckold... I’m small...” 
“And?” 
“And pathetic, and I barely cum and can’t make my wife cum.” 
“And?” 
“And I’m a perv who r-raped his own daughter because... because I’m a white loser who was so insecure,...” 
“But now...?” 
“N-now I’m happy to let you f-fuck,” he started tearing up, “all the black c-c- guys you want.” 
“Good boy. Did you enjoy your orgasm?” 
“Yeah,” sniffled her submissive hubby. 
“Good,” she turned the box around, “because it’s the last you’ll have in a while.” The box had a picture of plastic in the shape of a small penis, titled ‘THE LOCK HIM UP CHASTITY CAGE- size small.’ 
“W-what?” 
“What what? I said I’d forgive you, but you have to make it up for me. So like a good little white cuckold, you’re going to be locked away in this little chastity cage. I’ll keep the key, and you can only cum when I say so. Agreed?” 
He nodded. Totally impotent. 
“Good,” she took it out, read the instructions, and started to put it on. Phoebe came over to watch. She slipped the cock ring over his tiny worm, then putting the cage over it, screwing it on, and finally locking it all together with a little gold padlock. 
Both Phoebe and Charlotte laughed at his baby dick all locked away in his new cuckold cage. It was a clear plastic tinted pink, fitting for the little bitch it was on. It was a little heavy, and pulled down his crotch a little. 
“And this thing scared me?” Laughed Phoebe, flicking it and watching it wiggle and twitch. 
“To think I married that thing,” replied Charlotte. Dan was still speechless. 
“Let’s sample our new life, how about that?” 
“Sample?” Asked Phoebe and Dan in unison. 
“That’s right,” smiled Charlotte, showing them both her phone. On it were recent texts from contacts Darnel, Jamie, Kyan, and Purcell. “I invited the guys over. We’re having another gangbang here, in one hour.” 
9 notes · View notes
discotreque · 4 years
Text
Picard 1.10: Et in Arcadia Ego, Part 2
Tumblr media
I don't really do predictions or theories when I'm watching something. Partly because I prefer to go along for the ride while it's happening and wait to judge with the benefit of hindsight, but mainly because I'm very bad at it.
Anyway, let's discuss Episode 10 of Picard, in which a bunch of things happen that I would have sworn up and down were never going to happen, and a bunch of things I thought would for sure happen did not.
Spoilers for the season finale:
I think I feel about Picard S1 the same way I feel about Discovery so far: I like every single thing about it more than the writing. The casting is great, the actors are pretty much all superb, I'm horny as hell for the production design, the VFX are the best I've ever seen on television, I absolutely love Jeff Russo's music...
...and the scripts are, you know, fine. Mostly fine. Moments of excellence, no doubt, especially at the level of individual lines and scenes, but overall? New TV Trek has yet to pull off a complete season-story that really impressed me. (I have reasons for extremely high hopes re: Disco S3, but I will save them for another post.)
With all of that said: I didn't come here for the writing. I wanted to spend time with my old friend Jean-Luc Picard at the end of the 24th century, and I got it. The rest is gravy. Not, like, the awesome gravy my sister makes at Thanksgiving; decent B+ restaurant gravy. I'm still gonna dip my fries in it.
"To say you have no choice is a failure of imagination." The first great Picard line of the episode, but not the last.
Blah blah Romulan incest siblings blah blah blah. They couldn't have mentioned sooner that Narek was the family fuck-up or whatever? He would have been like 6% less boring.
Raffi and Rios constantly, lovingly dunking on each other is one of my favourite dynamics on this show.
Okay I was just joking last week about Saga's whole brain being in her eyeball but the fact that the damage to her eye fucked up her memories...
Why are they sitting outside the ship having a campfire? Isn't the ship basically fine? Why not hang out inside?
"The Thousand Days of Pain" is the name of my metal band.
Agnes using Saga's ripped-out eye to bypass the scanner had big Minority Report energy. Thank god she didn't have to chase it down a ramp while it rolled away from her.
"The way that children learn most things: by example."
RSVP Sutra, the only interestingly-written villain in this entire season. Tamlyn Tomita is super duper watchable as Commodore Oh/General Nedar (and looking fiiiine in that black uniform), but she has no personality or motivation beyond "grr, robots bad." Sutra lives in a society that's mostly twins, but her twin sister was fucking murdered. Obviously I don't agree with her actions, but I understood and cared about her motivations, which is more than I can say for any of the Romulans.
All those exterior shots of La Sirena wobbling through space with Picard at the helm were adorable.
We literally never see Narek again after the androids take him away. I hope they just threw him in a dumpster. Bye bitch.
Seven didn't do a ton of hand-to-hand combat on VOY, and she sure didn't fight like this. Jeri Ryan moves like she's heavy, like her bones are made of metal, like she's still full of dense Borg technology. She practically lumbers around, using her limbs like clubs; Peyton List bounces off her like she's hitting a solid steel wall. It's excellent choreography and so well executed by both women (and presumably their stunt doubles).
GET FUCKED, RIZZO. You were barely interesting enough to hate, but I did hate you.
"'The Picard Maneuver.' Wait, that's actually a thing, isn't it?" Ell oh ell.
Loved the way the Romulan ships' disruptors sizzled and crackled when they were powering up.
What was wrong with Planetary Sterilization Patterns 1 through 4?
That motherfucking fanfare when the Starfleet ships came in. Awwww yeah.
ACTING CAPTAIN WILL RIKER. Still kinda wish it had been Worf on the Entrepreneur, though, because I'm greedy: we already saw Riker!
I do have my problems with the writing, but I loved the way they resolved the three-way standoff between the Romulans, Starfleet, and the ch'khalagu: not with an epic space battle, but with diplomacy and self-sacrifice and trust in the essential goodness of each other. (Plus, I guess, the threat of an epic space battle.) It was so perfectly TNG in so many ways.
All the Riker stuff was so fan-servicey. Which I'm mostly fine with: I'm a fan, after all, and I like to be serviced from time to time. But it felt a little like one slice too many of chocolate cake.
I wish the tips of the tentacles had got cut off when the portal closed. That would have been cooler, right?
What can I say about watching Jean-Luc Picard die. He's been my captain for 30 years. I physically fucking felt it. And making an android copy of him, while awesome, did not really diminish the emotional impact.
On a lighter note, I need to know what Jeri and Santiago were actually drinking in that scene, because it straight-up looked like soap. Yuck.
I also really like the dynamic between Rios and Seven. They both act a little harder than they are, and I think they see through each other's acts, but there's enough mutual respect (and self-interest) there to let each other get away with it. And no romantic tension whatsoever. Delightful.
I want to hug all of them so much :(
The blank grey surface of everything in the simulation was very creepy.
Oh Data. Oh, Data. My heart was already aching and then...
Listen. Like a fucking idiot, I went and saw Nemesis on opening night. I don't even remember what I was expecting, but I do remember walking out of the theatre with my friend and agreeing never to speak of it again. Data died, but the movie was so shitty I could barely feel anything about it. This episode gave me the emotional closure I've been waiting for since December 13, 2002.
It's also, if you think about it, a pretty hilarious "fuck you" to Nemesis in general: "You guys did such a bad job of killing Data we had to bring him back to life just so we could kill him properly."
They've been slightly aging-up Patrick Stewart all season. I stopped noticing it after a while, so seeing him without it at the end was quite a shock.
"You... you haven't made me immortal?!" "Relax, man. Everyone was paying attention." Okay, Altan can stay.
Speaking of ol’ A.I., can't he just make another golem for himself? Was there something unique about the one they put Picard in?
I thought I recognized the voice of the woman singing "Blue Skies" on my first watch, but I couldn't place her. Turns out that was Isa Briones herself, which meant I cried even harder the second time through.
"And our little life is rounded with a sleep." Goodbye, Data.
Seven and Raffi???????
SEVEN AND RAFFI?????????????
And once again, Jeff Russo ends the season with a mash-up of the old theme and the new one. Give my man another Emmy! Give him two!
God damn. What a ride. Let me climb into my clown shoes for one last shitty prediction. I think next season is going to be what I wanted from this season: Picard and his motley crew of rogues bopping around the galaxy having roguish adventures. Fingers crossed!
And thanks for reading. Star Trek is always more fun with friends.
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
justalittlelitnerd · 4 years
Text
By A Thread by Lucy Score
We weren’t touching. But it felt like the space between us was charged with something. It was acting like a defibrillator on my heart.
This book had everything I want in a romance: a sassy, non-damsel heroine and a hero with soft boi vibes (I am a complete sucker for assholes covering up soft, warm centers). 
Don’t let the office romance aspect dissuade you (it’s obviously a common, but controversial trope in romance b/c power dynamics and whatnot), this is not ~in my experience~ a conventional office romance. 
First, Ally only ends up working at Dominic’s company after he gets her fired and his mom (who’s also his boss at the magazine she also owns) makes the job offer in reparation.  
Second, in addition to the two characters being completely at odds from the first meeting (he got her fired after all), Dominic is staunchly against an office romance not only because of his own values and awareness of power dynamics but because of his father’s history of sexual harrassment and assault. When they eventually fall into bed together (because duh this is a romance) he immediately offers to quit his job so the power dynamics of the office wouldn’t be an issue. 
That being said Dominic is an overbearing, and at times straight up controlling, son of a bitch (sorry as Ally would say his mother is lovely) and it made me want to throat punch him sometimes, but at the same time so did Ally’s stubbornness and pride. 
Score has a talent though for balance because any time Dominic started to get out of control, Ally wouldn’t hesitate to go head to head with him and speak her mind and the honesty and directness was refreshing. 
The ending felt a little bit rushed because clearly Dominic was trying (although in ways that were grossly overbearing and were exactly what Ally didn’t want him to do) and she made it clear that she couldn’t forgive him and I wanted more of a conversation or thought process to why she finally did aside from “that’s what love is.” 
This book was fun and funny and sarcastic and their banter made the story flow and is definitely the main reason I would consider rereading this romance.
Keep reading for some top notch quotes!
It wasn’t out of the kindness of my heart. I had neither kindness nor a heart. I considered it atonement for being an asshole.
Clearly, she wasn’t intimidated by an asshole in Hugo Boss with a haircut that cost more than her entire outfit. I basked in her disdain. It was miles more comfortable for me than the terrified glances and “Right away, Mr. Russo”s I got in the hallways at work.
It had been too long since I’d squashed a disrespectful underling. I itched to do it now. She looked not only like she could take it but that she might even enjoy it.
“Fine. But if she poisons me, I’ll sue her and her entire family. Her great-grandchildren will feel my wrath.” My mother sighed theatrically. “Who hurt you, darling?” It was a joke. But we both knew the answer wasn’t funny.
I knew he felt it, too. That unexpected jolt. Like taking a shot of whiskey or sticking a finger in a light socket. Maybe both at the same time. For one moment of pure insanity, I wondered if he intended to take me over his knee and if I’d let him.
I’d assumed they’d all get used to me. Apparently I’d assumed incorrectly. I was the beast to my mother’s beauty. The monster to the heroine. When they looked at me, they saw my father.
Her tone was steely and anger all but crackled off her. I hoped she got the guy’s balls in the divorce.
“You know, you’d be a lot prettier if you smiled once in a while,” she mused, fluttering her lashes. No wonder women hated it when men said that.
It was fucking cold. February was right around the corner, and if there was anything colder and damper than January in New York, it was fucking February. Of course, fashion didn’t heed below-freezing temperatures. No. Fashion made its own rules outside of time and space and temperature.
I, on the other hand, didn’t trust myself to survive even basic contact. Ally was only safe, my soul was only safe, as long as I didn’t touch her.
He was looming over me, but rather than threatening, it felt intimate, careful, almost safe. Like I wanted to be exactly here with exactly him.
Tell me the top five things you hate STAT. (This is the secret to finding out just how bad a person is in case you need it for interviewing future wives or human sacrifices.)
Somewhere along the line, she’d started talking to me like we were friends. As if that moment of honesty in the bar, those emails exchanged, had somehow made us friendly. And while I craved her next confession, I also couldn’t handle the intimacy. I was ripped down the middle. Torn between wanting to know everything there was to know about this woman and wanting to forget she existed.
I hated it when she walked away from me. It always felt like she took the light and heat with her. I added that to my Hate List.
Those blue eyes weren’t cold now. There was a victorious fire burning in them. And I was acutely aware that I was in immediate danger.
My heart was trying to blast its way out of my chest. I didn’t know where the organ had gotten actual sticks of dynamite, but that’s what was happening. My insides had turned to lava… or magma, whichever metaphor was most appropriate.
“Lots of people dance for money. Prima ballerinas, Jane Fonda, Laker Girls, back-up dancers, Rockettes. All women who make money by moving their bodies. There’s nothing remotely shameful about it,” Faith insisted. “You aren’t doing anything wrong. And anyone who tells you that you are is—” “Part of the patriarchy.”
I hoped to God security was up to the challenge tonight. Because if anyone laid a hand on her, one single finger on her, I was going to lose my shit.
I wondered if I was leaving a trail of body glitter behind me like I was a Questionable Life Choices Tinkerbell.
If mystery bothered him so much, this son of a bitch—wait, no. His mother was a lovely human being. This alphahole was going to suffer. I’d make sure of it.
I wanted to believe in my bones that he was doing this as some stupid mind game, that he got off on playing puppet master with my life. But deep down, I was worried that it was something much, much worse. Dominic Russo was trying to take care of me.
I was so pathetically happy that she was speaking to me in multisyllabic words I would have let her slap me across the face with the folder.
I walked back into the room feeling like Cinder-freaking-rella. If Cinderella’s fairy godmother had given her a sexy, skin-hugging gown the color of crimson or, as I liked to think of it, Dominic Russo’s crushed heart.
Everyone was hitting the open bar like it was last call, and those little appetizers were doing nothing to soak up the liquor. It was entertaining, but I had a feeling this is how bad things happened at office Christmas parties. Inhibitions lowered, tongues loosened, and shit went down.
Oh, boy. I’d heard rumors of Drunk Dominic. But they hadn’t prepared me for the reality of him. He was adorable… and in no way capable of functioning as creative director right now. I needed to get him home.
Damn it. My shattered broken heart was trying to knit itself back together just so it could fall for him all over again.
I hooked my pinky around his and tried not to fall in love with the idiot when he pressed his lips to our joined fingers.
Nights like these changed lives and were retold as stories for years to come. But I didn’t know what my story would be. Would it be the time the up-and-coming designer made me temporarily semi-famous? Or would it be the night I finally realized my heart belonged to a man I was never going to be with?
Tacos and home renovation supplies with an entrepreneur, a male exotic dancer, and a drag queen on her day off. Just another glamorous day in the life.
I spent the rest of the day on the couch, which delighted Brownie. We watched the entire first season of The Great British Baking Show and then three episodes of Queer Eye. I was inspired to order and to eat an entire sponge cake from the bakery three blocks over and pondered growing a beard. Then I pondered what Ally thought about beards. And the shame spiral began again.
“I’m not hiding this,” Dom said quietly. “I don’t think I could even if you asked me.” Okay, coming from Dominic Russo, maybe that was kind of a swoony thing to say. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was real. These feelings felt real.
“I don’t need to be saved.” Dalessandra and I blinked at each other as the words came out of both our mouths in unison.
I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to take her worries and concerns and problems and solve every last one of them so she could focus all of her attention on me. And Brownie of course. I wasn’t a completely selfish monster.
I didn’t want her drawing lines when I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to redraw them properly. She would live here. She would have anything and everything she needed. No one would ever take advantage of her or lay a hand on her ever again. End of fucking story. I was her Prince Fucking Charming.
“Dom, of course people are going to talk. Trying to avoid being a topic of conversation is a pretty lame way to live life. Sometimes, accepting the discomfort is how good things are earned.”
It was disconcerting to wake up one day and find myself… well. Here. Making plans for two instead of one. Looking forward to sharing things like beds and weekends and closet space. I’d dated before. But I’d never gotten this deep, this fast. I’d never made space in my home for a woman before. Change was happening, and I didn’t know how I felt about it.
Ally didn’t bitch-slap, but Faith did it like it was an Olympic sport and she was a gold medalist.
“Everyone has baggage, Russo. Most of us are just smart enough not to hurl full-sized suitcases at the people we love.”
But sometimes an inch might as well be a mile. And I didn’t know how to cross it. I didn’t know how to ask him for what I needed. Because I didn’t know what I needed.
2 notes · View notes
insane-control-room · 5 years
Text
The Sketch
Chapter two, segment three
previous - next 
full chapter on Ao3 here
Caution eludes everyone.
After spending most of his time outside of his studio for the better half of a month, he finally returned to his very nearly spotless apartment, instantly messing it up by tossing his suit jacket onto the couch, and leaving a drunk glass of tea on the table (also not cleaning up the teapot or honey jar he used). A spider had made its home on the sill of his window while he was gone, and he did not have the heart to take it away, and instead gave it a small smile and a naughty bug he found attacking one of his strawberries as he was weeding them in the evening. A computer bug, that is. He had been spotting them more and more often around, and he took it as a good sign. It meant that his powers were waxing, and he was able to fix his mistakes faster and better. Or it just meant he was getting sick again. Either or. It did not matter much to him. It was not his fault he was happy, and therefore putting more time and effort into things he preferred. You could perhaps blame him, but would that really be kind? Or proper? Gee, ain’t that unbiased?
He should have known that others would not be happy with his contented state.
He should have been more cautious.
But should he have?
Was there a choice?
He tried to be as careful as he could be, retracting steps, hiding connections, pretending to get into cabs to slip out the other door.
There was a creak on the stairs.
Johan froze. He grabbed the shovel he started using as a self defence weapon and crept toward the stairs. He immediately backtracked in the direction of the window with the trellis, and threw the shovel the door.
A loud swear emanated from it, and Johan jumped out the window, swinging onto the climbing vines, and attempted a quick ascent. A pale hand swiped at his ankle, trying to drag him back. A thorn pricked his thumb, and a globule of blood welled up. Bad luck, he registered, feeling a dizzying sensation rush through his body. Oh, how terribly he loathed  the sight of his own blood!
He scrambled upwards as fast as he could physically could, his hand brushing the roof, about to pull pull himself up onto it, and
His legs gave out.
With a shriek, he lost his balance, and crashed downward, landing heavily into his rose bushes at the base of his building.
He groaned from the pokey feeling pricking his his body, having torn his shirt in his descent, but was grateful that they stopped him from breaking something. Like his back. He tried to push himself up, but his legs collapsed, leaving him curled up on the dirt and pebble path. He gasped, trembling, muttering curses in all the languages he knew as he remained there, paralyzed in pain and agony, forced to wait it out.
Sirens ran in his mind, he was in danger, and he could hardly move to get away.
The Flynn syndicate! Seriously? Of all the criminals and hitmen out there, why did it have to be them? Why? The one sect he would never dare to hurt in any which way, shape, or form? The ones he once loved as brothers, those who forgot who he was as he desperately tried to save them? Why them, why them?
Cursing his legs, he forced himself up, thorns scratching his palms. Some blood stained his shirt, and he pulled his mask on to shield himself from any hits to the face or whatnot.
He slowly crept outward toward his bee hives, just for some protection and hoping no one would look for him there, even though he knew it was a false hope. He, in his heart, just wanted a little bit of peace before the end.
He hobbled to the apiary, and sank against it, inhaling the smell of honey and wood.
Johan’s breathing slowed as he relaxed, no longer fighting the inevitable.
“Is that him?” he heard. His nose dripped blood. He tried to stand, tried to make one last fighting breath. As he rose to his full height, there was a short laugh. “That’s definitely him.”
“I hate Disney,” Joey muttered under his breath, scowling behind his mask. “And Fleisher can kiss my ass, if he’s even tall enough to do that.”
The hive hummed behind him. The eighteen year old entrepreneur glanced at it, gripping his cane tightly.
“Forgive me,” he sighed, hefting the cane up, back, and swinging it around. The buzz grew to a deafening roar as he smacked the honey generator with his cane. The speed the men slowly surrounded him reduced all the more as they warily noted the sound. And then the bees swarmed out, a buzzing, angry, hissing mass of madness and pain for those foolhardy enough to provoked those adorably irked hive minded beings of fluffy stinging.
Irish screams and curses filled the air, and Johan tried to sneak away as the bees stung and swarmed around the Flynn syndicate. But then there was a tap on his shoulder, a punch on his eye, and he tried to run, but a red jumpsuit slammed into his vision, and then into his chest. He felt his ribs creak, and he worried that one or more broke. Then his back said hello to the ground, the air rushing out of his lungs. Stars danced in his eyes, and he went limp as his muscles all gave out at once. He was flipped onto his back, arms tightened behind his back.
“G-gently, please,” he muttered into the dirt his head was being held against. To his relief, the ropes were slackened. “Thank you.”
He was pulled up, lead backwards to a four wheeler, and jostled into a seat, two of the Flynn’s on either side of him. His head drooped, he panting as his heart and head pounded in an excruciating unison. Blood dripped from his nose and lip, staining his shirt.
The vehicle stopped, and he was dragged out of the car, pulled up stairs into an empty, unlight, and unwelcoming building. He shuddered as he was shoved into a chair, and his chest was constricted with rope, and he could viscerally feel each of his ribs move in his skin. Johan gasped, his breath hitching in aching pain, and he held it - knowing that continuing to breathe would only make it all the more worse. A hand reached around the band of his mask, and he panicked, thrashing his head to avoid being known for who he was.
“N-no! Please!” he cried out, begging his captor with a useless plea. “D-don’t! Please, please, don’t! Don’t! I-I’ll do anything, don’t take my mask!”
“Sorry, Mr. Drew, no can do,” a grim irish accented voice intoned as the hand gripping the mask pulled, and Johan felt his connection to the magical mask go taut, snapped, and became oh so limp. “Photography was requested, by his truly, the honorable Mr. Disney.”
“Honorable my ass!” Johan spat, a bit of blood escaping his lips. “Give me back my mask!”
Lights flashed on, most likely for the proof pictures the Flynn syndicate planned on taking.
“Fuck! Sh-Shit!” Joey thrashed, and writhed, twisting and yanking on his bonds. “Damnit, fuck! Sh-Shawn, lemme go, let me go!”
His cheeks were suddenly grabbed and held, blue grey eyes staring deeply into his own.
“Johan…” Joey shivered as Shawn breathed his name. It felt like something was right in the world, clicking firmly into place. “Shite, you’re so… young.”
“Yer like a kid!” Marvin gasped, gawking at him. He came closer to inspect him better. “... damnit, you are a kid! How old are you, Joey? Sixteen?!”
“Eighteen!” Johan corrected him with some offense. “Give me some credit, for heaven’s sake! I have a g-goddamn beard and moustache! A-and I’ll be turning nineteen in like, uh, three weeks!”
“Still a baby,” Henrik firmly stated the plain fact. “Good god, you look so so young Johan….”
“I get it, I, I get it!” Johan desperately stuttered. “I look young! Okay! Fine!”
“We gotta sneak him out of here,” Sean told the others. “Like… this ain’t ok.”
“Agreed,” Jack nodded. “But how are we gonna do that?”
“I might just have an idea,” Chase muttered, looking at the overly large garbage can. “Might just have an idea….”
8 notes · View notes
1
The fluorescent fixture on the ceiling above her head buzzed loudly, and sounded like a fly's futile efforts at escape against a closed window. Age revealed in their darkened ends, the long pair of luminous tubes flickered, and one of the bulbs burned dim orange rather than the bright white of its twin. Someone needed to replace the failing bulb and fix that annoying buzz, Mia thought.
Mia nervously waited in the dingy room, seated in an uncomfortable chair with her hands cuffed behind her back. Her mind raced. Were these handcuffs necessary? Couldn't the police see she was a respectable member of society? How could Josh be so stupid and get them both in this horrible mess? She had warned him about this, but as usual, he didn't listen. She was tired of having to mother him.
Mia loved her husband, Josh, and overlooked his many flaws. He was a talented high school science teacher at a prestigious private school, adored by his students and their parents alike. But Josh had concealed a minor blemish -- up until this point -- to his otherwise flawless portrait of a perfect citizen. Josh liked smoking marijuana a lot. Perhaps too much. With an academic background in botany, he also enjoyed applying his scientific knowledge to cultivating the illegal plant for his personal and recreational use.
While perfectly lawful to do in some states, Josh's activity was a felony punishable by up to 12-years prison where they presently lived. Josh had converted a small walk-in closet in their house into a grow room — the reason why they were both under arrest now, treated like common criminals, and why she was sitting here frightened and alone.
She wondered how the police found out. Did one of Josh's worthless pothead friends get busted and turn him in for a lighter sentence? Was it the helicopter she heard late one evening -- interrupting her peaceful sleep with its blades tearing through the cool night air -- equipped with a snooperscope that saw the heat on their roof from Josh's 1000-watt metal halide light? Maybe their electric consumption gave it away? What difference did it make now anyway? They were already in trouble.
"Wow, this one's a real looker," Detective Sanchez mumbled to her partner as she stared through the two-way mirror at the beautiful 24-year-old suspect she was about to interrogate.
"Yeah, they had eight plants growing hydroponically under a 1000-watt metal halide light. A small, sophisticated operation," the gruff voice of Detective Earl Noyse replied. Only a few ounces of smokable bud seized, but in typical police fashion, roots, stems and even the medium the plants grew in were weighed, greatly inflating the amount and the charges.
The door opened.
Sanchez entered the interrogation room, visually raking the gorgeous blond sitting at the old wooden table. The girl stared back at Sanchez with stunning blue eyes and silky blond hair that flowed past her shoulders in threads of gold as smooth as a sheet of water.
Mia watched the older, rather plain-looking woman walk toward her. Detective Sanchez wore her greying hair up in a tight bun and had what could be described as a slightly weathered, man-like appearance. She held a folder in her hand.
Sanchez slapped the folder down in front of Mia and dragged a wooden chair out from underneath the table. The heavy chair growled in a high-pitchl as it reluctantly slid across the floor.
Sanchez sat in front of Mia, her face an expressionless mask. "Seems like you and Josh have been busy entrepreneurs. Possession, manufacture and distribution of a Schedule I drug carries a pretty stiff penalty."
"I already explained all this to that other detective — Detective Nose."
"Noyse," Sanchez interjected.
Mia rolled her eyes. "Whatever his name is — Josh only grows it for personal use. He only had eight plants. How does that amount to manufacture and distribution?"
"Listen, dearie, we confiscated over 15 pounds of weed from your house. Both you and Josh are looking at felony records and 12 years in prison unless you cooperate."
Mia's voice rose higher with indignation. "There's no way those eight little plants equal 15 pounds. You can't charge us with that! I want to speak with an attorney."
Detective Sanchez was not going to tolerate Mia's uppity attitude. She needed to bring this young girl down a few notches.
Sanchez rose from her chair, her palms remaining flat on the table, her face now red and only inches from Mia as she leaned toward her and yelled. "Listen, sweetheart, you want to speak to an attorney? Fine! But then we're throwing the book at both of you. You can say good bye to each other and to your house, your car, and all those nice things you and Josh have acquired. He'll never work as a teacher again. His career and your futures will be ruined. I'll see to it!"
Mia felt Detective Sanchez' hot breath and spittle blast against her cheeks as the angry detective shouted into her face.
Sanchez sat down, resumed a calm demeanor and continued as if her previous rant never occurred. "Or you can cooperate with us. All of this can go away and your husband, Josh, can continue teaching. Otherwise, you're both looking at lengthy prison time away from each other. It's your choice."
Tears began flowing from Mia's eyes. "What do you mean, 'cooperate'? I don't even smoke marijuana, you can give me a drug test right now. I told Josh not to grow that stuff."
Mia spoke the truth. She very rarely used marijuana. It made her too paranoid and nervous, but Sanchez didn't care and wasn't buying anything Mia said. Bigger fish swam in the ocean of scum and Mia looked like perfect bait to catch them. "We have a big drug problem in this city, which you can help us solve. We know who distributes the drugs, but we need to find sources, who else is involved. We want to bust Reggie Johnson, but first we need to find out who he gets his drugs from."
Mia sniffled. "Who's Reggie Johnson?"
Was this girl serious or was she just playing stupid? How could she not know about Reggie Johnson? Everyone on the street, and part of the drug trade in this city, knew about Reggie Johnson, the high-ranking gangster responsible for murders, heinous crimes, and the area's rich supply of illicit drugs. Detective Sanchez was going to bring him down, and this hot young female was going to help her do it.
Mia's suburban life had sheltered her from the likes of Reggie Johnson. Her anonymity was perfect, and perhaps her ignorance was for the best too.
"Stand up for me," Sanchez barked.
"What?"
"Just do it and turn around."
Mia timidly rose from her chair, with her head down and shoulders hunched over in fear as she turned around.
"Stand straight!"
Mia's back straightened upon command. The baggy sweat pants she wore poorly concealed what could only be described as an incredibly tight and sexy ass from hours she had spent working out at the gym.
"You'll do just fine," Sanchez mumbled to herself as she studied the perfect curves of Mia's beautifully slender figure. She was exactly Reggie Johnson's type — young, white with perky c-cup tits and an hour glass figure; a gorgeous face with big blue eyes and silky blond hair.
*****************
They lived in a well-kept, modest sized home — the only house on a secluded street in an otherwise suburban area populated by soccer moms and dads who coached little league baseball on the weekends for their young children. An ideal place for kids of their own they planned to have soon. The yard was neatly trimmed and heavily shaded by two large oaks that reached over the house like two giant hands about to shake with each other.
Mia stood in the living room. "I have to do it, Josh. I'm sorry, but it's the only way. If I don't do this for them, they'll send us both to jail. You'll lose your job, have a felony record and never teach again. Why didn't you just listen to me? I told you not to grow that stuff and to stop smoking it."
Josh stared at her as she spoke, his face wearing his confusion. At 5' 10" tall and perhaps 145 pounds wet, he was never much of an athlete, his frame best described as wiry. How could the police suddenly send her off as an informant without any preparation? It didn't seem safe or right. "Well, where are you going?"
"I'm not sure," Mia answered. "Detective Sanchez didn't tell me yet."
Above his wire-framed glasses, his eyebrows now knitted together with concern. How could she not know where she was going? "When will you be home?"
Detective Sanchez hadn't told her that yet either. "I don't know."
"You're not sure; you don't know," Josh mimicked. "Well, what can you tell me?"
"Nothing — all Detective Sanchez told me is she needs me to find out about some guy named Ryan or something. I can't remember his name. I was so nervous."
"Oh that's just great. You don't know who this is, where you're going, what you'll be doing, or when you'll be back." Josh sat in his chair, crossed his arms, and pouted like an angry child. "You're not the five-o, Mia."
"I don't want to do it, Josh. But we don't have a choice."
A car horn honked for Mia from their driveway and Josh jumped from his chair.
Mia wrapped her arms around her husband, gave him a big hug and kiss. "Please, Josh, I have to go now. I'll call as soon as I can, but it may be a while. I'm not supposed to contact anyone I know while doing this."
Josh melted in her embrace and returned her hug. "I'm sorry Mia. You're right — this is all my fault. But I didn't mean to do this to us. The laws in this country are so fucked up. You know why they originally illegalized weed back in 1937?"
Mia shook her head.
"They thought black men used it to seduce white women. Isn't that ridiculous? It's all because of racism. And here we are in 2016 suffering the consequences of unjust laws based on bigotry."
The horn honked again.
"Please be careful and call me as soon as you can," Josh added.
Mia tore herself away from him. Josh followed her to the front door, where she grabbed her packed suitcase.
He stood at the doorway and unenthusiastically waved farewell as Mia entered an older Honda Accord Detective Sanchez drove.
***************
A man and woman shouted curse words at each other from the neighboring unit while their baby cried, and the sound of distant sirens drifted through the air.
"I don't want to wear this stuff," Mia complained, pulling down at the short, tightly-fitting mini skirt so it would cover more of her legs. "This is too short and I feel uncomfortable wearing a thong underneath it like this. Please let me put on something else."
"You're either going to do this and get the information I need, or I'll file those charges with the DA. What's it going to be? I'm getting tired of hearing you whine."
Mia didn't like any of this. Sanchez made her share this disgusting rat infested apartment in a bad inner-city neighborhood with some crack whore, and now she made Mia wear this slutty outfit. "Aren't you going to give me a wire or something?"
Sanchez believed Mia and her husband were low-life drug dealers. Small fry perhaps, but not much better than Johnson. Sanchez' only concern for Mia as her informant was in using her to catch Johnson, nothing more. To that end, she was expendable. Mia obviously didn't understand their working relationship yet. "You're an informant, not an undercover cop. Reggie Johnson will likely check you for a bug anyway. That's if you ever get near him. We can't risk him finding out that you're working for us."
"But it's been three days already. Please, I want to see my husband. When can I see Josh? I'm tired of hanging out at that stupid club with all those black men hitting on me all night. How am I supposed to make friends with this Reggie Johnson guy anyway and find out all this stuff for you? I haven't even seen him there yet."
Sanchez squinted her eyes and looked at Mia angrily. "That's your problem. Use your imagination. I'm sure a cute girl like you can put your good looks to use and figure something out, but you better do it quickly. The sooner you do, the sooner you can see Josh. The clock is ticking and you're running out of time. If you don't get me some information soon, I'll have you and Josh prosecuted and sent to prison."
"No, please don't do that. I'll get the information you want..."
While Detective Sanchez prepared Mia, her colleague, Detective Noyse, secretly met with Reggie Johnson.
Steel and glass skyscrapers contained fiery reflections of the setting sun like the surface of a calm sea. From Reggie's penthouse apartment, Noyse gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at a breathtaking view of the city. "Funny how nice it all looks from way up here. It's only when you're actually on the ground and part of it that the filth and ugliness become apparent, I guess."
"It's on the desk," Reggie replied, finishing his last rep of bench presses. The muscles in his arms and chest looked like they were about to rip through his tight brown skin as he gritted his teeth.
Noyse placed a folder he had brought with him on the desk and picked up the thick envelope Reggie had left there for him. He opened the envelope and briefly thumbed through a stack of hundred-dollar bills it contained before quietly placing it inside his jacket pocket and returning to the view outside the window.
Reggie sat up from gym equipment in the middle of his expansive living room, and used a white towel hanging around his neck to wipe sweat from his face. He glanced at the closing stock prices running across the bottom of an enormous LED TV hung like a picture on the wall. He had made over $800K in the market today, he silently noted, pointing a remote control toward the set. The screen went black. "Anything I need to know?"
His six-pack abs noticeable, Reggie walked to the desk.
Noyse turned from the window. "You might want to look over the contents of that folder carefully. Sanchez is on a high horse again and she's after you and your suppliers. She recruited a new informant we busted a few days ago."
Reggie opened the folder containing Mia Warren's mug shot and arrest record. "Nice," he muttered out loud to himself, the picture less than flattering to Mia, but her beauty apparent to him anyway. He read through her report. "Hmm —married, 24-years-old, and no kids. Busted for growing weed. Tsk-tsk — naughty girl."
"The husband admitted it was his. She seems pretty straight-laced, but you never know these days."
Reggie looked up from the folder. "It's an election year. A sizable contribution to a certain incumbent's re-election campaign should take care of Detective Sanchez' investigation. In the meantime, I gotta check Mrs. Warren out. May wanna tap me some that fine white pussy. Keep that cute little informant preoccupied."
"The husband should appreciate that very much," Detective Noyse dryly replied.
Reggie returned Noyse's sarcasm with a grin. "That's what he gets for breaking the law, cutting into my business — and not doing it very well, I might add."
*************
From across a crowded, dimly lit dance club, her golden blond hair and beautiful skin stood out like headlights on a deserted road at night. Very few Caucasians frequented this establishment, and none of them had ever looked as good as her. Reggie studied how the softer features of her nose, eyes, and mouth accentuated her sharp cheekbones to produce the loveliest face. The tight miniskirt she wore only amplified an equally gorgeous figure that could easily belong to a supermodel and drew unwanted attention from practically every male in the joint.
Unaware of Reggie's presence, Mia stood by the bar watching some black couple dance next to her, the girl obscenely thrusting her pelvis into the guy's leg, oblivious it seemed to all else around her. An offensive rap song blasted, making even the floors and walls vibrate.
Mia hated this place, but Sanchez said this was Reggie Johnson's hangout, although he had not appeared here for the past three nights.
"Damn, you beautiful. Let me buy you a drink," she heard a voice say with a familiar African American accent. She was so tired of hearing that stupid accent and having to tell these ignorant black men that she was not interested. She rolled her eyes up and sighed. She had lost count of how many men had already hit on her this evening. She wanted to get out of this place and be with Josh. There was no way in Hell she would ever cheat on her husband or be with some nasty black guy.
Mia irritatedly turned around to tell whoever it was this time to buzz off and leave her alone.
Her eyes climbed up the muscular stature of an enormous black man, as if trying to find the top of a skyscraper. In the darkness, she somehow missed the monstrous bulge in his pants. She almost blew it, about to tell him to get lost like all the other inferior black men she had encountered this evening, before her eyes finally reached his face.
Mia suddenly realized that the gigantic man speaking to her was Reggie Johnson — the man she had been waiting for. He wore a Polo shirt and a thick gold necklace, grey silk slacks, and an expensive sports jacket. Diamond rings that looked big enough to sink the Titanic adorned his fingers.
Mia nervously forced a smile. Her opportunity finally arrived, yet her mind was blank as to what to say. "Hi," she managed to squeak out.
Reggie looked at the almost empty glass Mia held. "Whatcha drinking?"
Mia was not much of a drinker, and her tumbler contained remnants of ice water — the only substance she ever intended to consume here. But she remembered Detective Sanchez' threats — Josh's career in ruins, criminal records marring their future, 12 years in prison. Little time remained. She needed information about Reggie and his suppliers to give Sanchez. Too much was at stake to let her nerves get in her way now. This was her chance and she could not let it slip away. "I'll have whatever you're drinking."
Reggie turned to the bartender. "A Crown on the rocks for me and this lovely woman. Make 'em doubles".
The bartender briefly raised an eyebrow, thinking he might have misheard Reggie. The only thing Mia had ordered from him the past three nights was ice water. He proceeded to fill two tumblers with ice and generous amounts of the amber liquid without question. "Anything else, Mr. Johnson?"
Reggie gave him a fifty-dollar bill. "Not now. Keep the change."
"Thank you, Mr. Johnson."
Reggie handed Mia the glass. "Come on, let's sit somewhere quiet and talk."
They sat at a small table away from the music. Mia remained incredibly nervous. She quickly forced down the contents of her glass and felt fire form in her stomach.
"Wow, you really slammed that down. I ain't seen many women drink like that. I'll get you another. I don't want to drink by myself."
Mia stared blankly at him a moment as she waited for the fire in her gut to simmer. Although she rarely drank, she possessed the ability to hold her liquor well.
Reggie signaled a nearby server. "Bring my pretty friend here another double of Crown, on the rocks."
Mia began to feel the calming effects of alcohol she just consumed enter her bloodstream. "What's your name?"
"Reggie Johnson — and who, may I inquire, do I have the pleasure of meeting."
"I'm Mia."
"Where you from, Mia? I never seen you 'round here before. No way could I ever miss someone as beautiful as you."
She caught herself from almost fumbling the whole thing by telling him her real address. Mia's nervousness returned. She had forgotten the address where she was staying with the crack whore. "I just moved here — to a place on North 89th Street and Milton Avenue. Do you know the area?"
Ch. 2
0 notes
Photo
Tumblr media
CHRISTIAN LEFEVRE
thirty-five ♱ capitaux lefevre cfo + benefactor ♱ lefevre
”In me burns the most Catholic of longings — to devour the divine.”
WE ARE PLAYING A GAME OF EMPIRES
Third born to the Lefevre family was Christian — a boy with a name that was perhaps an act of overcompensation for a set of parents who’d already subjected the world to a set of twins kissed by the devil himself. The legacy he’d been born into wasn’t one of empires. Along with the Lefevre name came a moderate degree of wealth and status, yes; he and his elder siblings had always had all they’d needed and more, but they were neither royals nor celestial beings. They were so very, painfully mortal. Had the boy been left to his own devices, to form goals and ambitions that were entirely his own, perhaps the life his parents were able to provide for him in Paris would’ve been enough — but fate would have it that he’d be filled with a white-hot desire for holiness, for divinity, and that desire was not born. It was planted.
Ten years the junior of his twin siblings Lucien and Celine, Christian was never able to call himself particularly close with either. Age separated them, yes, but the distance could surely be attributed to the closeness the twins shared, leaving no room for a younger brother to penetrate their bond. Still, the three of them were kin, and their bond of blood was held sacred enough — sacred enough for Christian to accept the slippery words that slid from his brother and sister’s lips as sacred decree, as law. They were not the kinds of siblings he could spill his heart to. They were the kinds of siblings whose strategic whispers worked to lift both his sense of self and his ambitions, propping him up, hissing promises of the greatness their family deserved — how the three of them deserved the world, and it was all of their responsibilities to ensure it one day bowed to them. Celine had found herself a husband that had all of England bowing to him; Lucien worked day and night to build a financial empire from scratch. When he grew old enough, it would be his turn to do whatever was necessary for the Lefevre family’s ascension. It was a mantra he would grow to live and breathe, entirely brainwashed by the influence of a brother and sister who’d assured him that he and the rest of their bloodline were entitled to more. His insatiable thirst for greatness was implanted in him by the two he trusted most, and he’d never even thought to question it.
While his ambitions had grown tenfold under their influence, he knew well enough to hide that thirst for luxury and power behind polished charms. Polite and well mannered, his smooth words greased his victims like butter. He’d branded himself a gentleman in the making, a boy of good standing that understood the fundamentals of respect, one that laughed at all of any stranger’s jokes and could win over any heart with a few well timed words and a polished smile. He had a way with that silver tongue of his, a way to make you simply want to trust him — and how could you not, when he sold every one of his lies with a convincing smile, living and breathing his ruses until you believed them too. He was calculated, but above all, he was patient — this climb upwards was a long game, one that would never truly end, and he had the endurance to keep fighting his silent fight while masked behind elegance and good graces.
The decision to attend boarding school in England was made nearly entirely for the prestige of it all. It was there he made the acquaintance of Franco Giordano, a boy in his class. Truthfully, there had never been anything about him Christian had found particularly interesting — nothing, of course, besides his last name. Celine and Lucien, in search of any connection that would allow Christian to weasel his way in with those they’d reluctantly admit were above them, had demanded a list of all those who had crossed Christian’s path — and as soon as the name Giordano hit their ears, a plot was born. This boy Franco was the key to Italy’s first family, they’d asserted, and so he became Christian’s mission. With a carefully constructed lie about his past, calling himself an orphan from the French countryside with no parents, no siblings, no family but the great aunts and extended cousins with whom he bounced from home to home, Franco took Christian in not only as a best friend, but as a brother. A trained liar and manipulator, both skills he’d learned from his siblings, Christian turned himself into whatever Franco seemed to need in a supposed best friend. He lived out his ruse day after day, allowing no one at the school to know the real Christian Lefevre, only the sad little orphan boy he pretended to be — and it had worked. His feigned brotherhood had been enough for Franco to not only accept him under his wing, but into his home.
He was welcomed into the Giordano estate as Franco’s guest, and soon enough, taken in as one of their own. Christian was invited to spend summers with the family, to tag along on holidays. As an honourary brother to Franco, he became a third son to Cassius. While he cared little for the pseudo-family bond he feigned, for he had his own blood that would do well enough on that front, he did crave something from the Giordanos — their empire; the sprawling mansion in Rome, the lavish life of luxury, the unquestioned power that came along with their name. Lucien was still working to build a company in their name back in Paris, but his reach was nothing compared to that of Cassius Giordano and the legacy that struck fear into anyone that so much as heard their name whispered in passing. Christian didn’t want to be a part of their empire. He wanted to be at the helm of his own — one that brought theirs toppling to the ground.
The social and political influence of the Giordano family had been abundantly clear, but it wasn’t until years had gone by that he’d earned enough trust to make his way into the inner circle. It was in Cassius’s good faith that he learned what the family’s true sport was, and it ignited a fascination that burned brighter than anything he’d ever known. The Giordanos, along with the help of the trusted crew wrapped around their finger. This city and all its chaos was their playground, and when it was so easy to use the world as puppets, they were right to call themselves gods. After all, what better expression of power was there than to pull the world’s strings simply because they could? This was the empire the Lefevres had always been destined to lead, though Christian knew well enough that his family had neither the notoriety nor the connections to play the same game. His position of trust within the Giordano circle, though, would be his in — and their downfall. Unlike Cassius and Vita, he was an entrepreneur, a man of opportunity. Playing this game for pleasure was one thing, but oh, was it such a waste of potential. If the ring had belonged to him, he’d be playing for gain — using those villains and scoundrels at his fingertips to advance himself, his family, his legacy; taking down competitors, building the Lefevre empire towards the sky with the help of a band ready and willing to do his bidding. Still fully under the spell of his siblings, he brought the pitch back to them — and they’d conditioned him so well over the years that Christian dared to believe he’d been the mastermind behind everything all along.
It was not a plan that would transpire overnight. To seize an empire for one’s own was a long game, and luckily, Christian was a man blessed with patience. He played his game well, earning a close position in Cassius’s esteem — arguably, more so than any of the man’s biological sons. Feigning an undying loyalty in what he’d have called the con of the century, he worked to prove himself a valuable asset, to forge relationships with those he knew he’d need to trust him if he was ever going to steal them away for an army of his own. The one to fall for his act hook, line, and sinker, though, would be Cassius’s prized daughter Aurora. The adoration in her eyes when she glanced his way was all too apparent, and even Cassius himself gave the pairing his blessing. While he viewed the girl as nothing but a silly little fool, the wickedness ingrained in the Lefevre bloodline was more than willing to take advantage of an opportunity to add insult to injury — to steal the Giordano family’s empire and destroy their precious daughter. He played the role of her prince charming, saying and doing whatever was necessary to keep the girl falling at his knees, all while choking back a wicked grin every time she looked in his eyes and earnestly whispered “I love you,” and he echoed the words back with such conviction that no one had thought to doubt his intentions.
No one except for one.
Giuliana Giordano was a creature unlike any he’d ever seen — one wished to witness the destruction nearly as much as Christian himself, and one that was able to see through his act. It had been a game he’d been playing for nearly two decades, and he’d thought he’d perfected his act long ago. In his mind, he was all but opaque — but to someone with a like mind and a similar thirst to watch Giordano blood spill, perhaps he’d been translucent at best. She’d figured him out, but she didn’t seek to expose him. No, she sought to join him, to watch her parents and siblings bleed out by his side. By now, Aurora wore his ring on her finger — but that didn’t stop him from fucking Giuliana down the hall as her sister primped herself for their engagement party. In truth, the affair was the most genuine thing he’d been a part of since his induction to the family, and while he had never truly planned on walking away from the Giordanos with a bride, Giuliana was something different altogether. They shared a dangerous thirst, and there was no other he could ever imagine ruling by his side. When his wedding day came, Giuliana, dressed in white, shoved her sister out of the way and strode down the aisle herself, and as he kissed his bride in front of a church filled with mouths agape, he crowned the queen to his king.
Their act of mutiny created a divide, and after years of planting seeds of doubt amongst Giordano loyalists, Christian brought as many of the criminals over to Lefevre loyalty as he could. As news of the plan’s completion reached Lucien and Celine’s ears, the remainder of the Lefevre family joined them in Rome, ready and willing to not only build an empire of their own, but to watch that of Cassius Giordano go down in flames. This is their game now, and he’ll be sure that his blood is the last left standing once the smoke clears.
TAKE NO PRISONERS, LEAVE NO SCARS
LOVE
He’d convinced the world that Aurora was the love of his life, but from the beginning, it had all been a ruse. Breaking her heart had never been part of the original plan, but when she’d handed it to him, she’d been a fruit hanging so low he simply couldn’t resist. He told her pretty lies, crafted an image of himself as the man of her dreams, only to smirk wickedly at her from the altar as her sister came to take her place beside him. Truthfully, Aurora never meant a thing to him — it had always been Giuliana. The physicality of their torrid affair had been electric, but beneath it all, they were two twisted souls who brought out the worst in each other in what they both considered to be the best possible way. She’s his queen, his soulmate, and now his wife — the only woman he would ever call worthy of standing by his side.
LEGACY
While Celine and Lucien were always ten years his seniors, they begun their work on him from the very beginning. Entirely unbeknownst to him, everything he is today is a product of their influence and manipulation. They planted the seeds that turned him into the snake he is today, and even still, he’s so far under their spell that he doesn’t even realize the control they hold over him. In his eyes, the three of them are royals in their own right — their own family of modern gods, destined to rule together. It wasn’t until their move to Rome that he had much interaction at all with Selena and Harland, his in-laws. Admittedly, he finds it difficult to decipher what ever drew his siblings to either of them, but he trusts Celine and Lucien’s judgment enough to assume there’s something more to them than meets the eye. While he can appreciate Selena’s complacency, Harland has made his distrust of Christian known — to which Christian reminds him who it was that spent nearly twenty years playing the con that got them all to where they are today. Kiah, Zaine, Valencia, and the newly arrived Nico, make up his nieces and nephews. While Kiah can be a handful on the best of days, he believes she harbours more potential than most in their family give her credit for. Zaine, though, missed out on every defining Lefevre trait, leaving Christian utterly perplexed as to what sort of purpose he’d ever be able to serve them. He’s dead weight, in desperate need of being hardened. Valencia possesses a myriad of traits he admires, and he’s excited to see what she could bring to their game if unleashed properly. As for Nico, he can sense the boy’s desperation to please his newly discovered blood, and much like his siblings, Christian is never one to pass up the opportunity to contort a desperate soul into a weapon.
ALLIES
While there are few beyond Giuliana that Christian would truly call his allies, he sees a great deal of value in the addition of Maximiliano to their empire. He’s one of the few that was alongside the Giordanos before Christian himself, and he brings decades worth of experience and inside information along with him. The bitterness Max feels for the family, Cassius in particular, is a weapon Christian does not intend to underestimate.
ENEMIES
His envy for the Giordano family spans twenty years. Since the beginning, he’d always craved the empire they’d had — even more so once he’d discovered the truth behind their game. Cassius and Vita call themselves a king and queen, but Christian’s greatest satisfaction would be to watch him fall at the Lefevre family’s feet. He’d been forced to spend years feigning fraternity with Franco, and oh, how good it feels to be free of the mask and finally express his distaste for the man he’d always considered boring at best. Giuliana has mentioned her brief fling with Katya to him, and while he believes his wife’s word that her heart was never in it, that doesn’t stop him from getting a thrill out of rubbing their marriage in the girl’s face.
THE REST
During his years in school with Franco, he came to make the acquaintance of Samaira. As a boy who’d dealt in ingenuity, he could smell it on her from the beginning — yet rather than warning Franco that he was about to entangle himself with a woman who was ready to use him, he sat back and allowed it to happen all too gleefully. Whether she planned to take him for what he was worth and leave or leech off of him for the long term, he didn’t particularly care. He did, however, keep her secret — and assert that she would be at his disposal for as long as he held it over her head. It was after the death of Camille Dubois that he began to sense yet another lie from Samaira, and though she never said a word about any involvement in the incident, or even any connection to Camille to begin with, he knew her tells well enough to piece a vague assumption together. Whatever her involvement was, he was sure to mock her from the shadows — which, in turn, kept Samaira silent about whatever suspicions she may have developed surrounding him. Though his secrets are now out in the open, hers still remain under his lock and key, and he doesn’t allow her to forget it.
CHRISTIAN is potrayed by JULIAN MORRIS. He is currently UNAVAILABLE for auditions.
3 notes · View notes
journalistcafe · 4 years
Text
एक्ट्रेस और मॉडल सलोनी चोपड़ा ने एक बार फिर अपनी हॉट तस्वीरों से फैंस का ध्यान अपनी ओर खींचा है। आए दिन वह सोशल मीडिया पर अपनी तस्वीरें शेयर कर तहलका मचाया करती है।
View this post on Instagram
I travel with my own entourage, thanks. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #DoveWantsToKnowTheSecretToYourBeauty #DovesAreTheNewDragons #Travel #Zadar #Croatia
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Sep 3, 2019 at 6:13am PDT
View this post on Instagram
Why men great 'til they gotta be great? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I just took a DNA test, turns out I'm 100% that bitch. Even when I'm crying crazy Yeah, I got boy problems, that's the human in me. Bling bling, then I solve 'em – that's the goddess in me 🎵 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 🖐🏽🖐🏽🖐🏽🖐🏽🖐🏽🖐🏽 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Hey, it’s Tuesday & while you’re scrolling, I want to tell you that the world needs you – to be yourself. Be yourself so hard, that YOU becomes a threat to them & their businesses. The world needs REAL WOMEN to be themselves. Shave when you wanna, work out when you wanna, make up when you wanna, fuck all of the above – when you don’t wanna. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Be you so hard, that they see you for how absolutely beautiful you are. I woke up so inspired today. Mainly because I’m seeing women all around me, women that don’t fall into the stereotypes of ‘beautiful’ still unashamedly putting themselves out there! Women with scars, imperfections, disabilities, marks, weight & daily magazine reminders about how they’re not enough, REAL every day women – using the Internet & these platforms to BREAK STEREPTYPES! They are no longer hiding. They’re not afraid of putting up photos of themselves, of their realness, they’re taking over the Internet with their awesomeness every day. While everyone is discussing how the internet is an extremely influential place where we feel insecure about ourselves, I think, what you feel depends heavily on what you choose to see – what you filter to follow on your feed. Every day, I see women posting about their bodies, sexuality, desires. Their journey’s of going from “I’m not comfortable using the Internet to flaunt my flaws because I’m a private person” to “big businesses have taken over & decided to make far too many women feel insecure about their identities, so I’m going to use MY own platform, & MY body, to remind other women why it’s okay to be imperfect – there’s more of us out there.” #Women that aren’t afraid of the shitty degrading comments, that don’t shy away from giving it back either. This one’s for you, I know it’s hard, but please don’t stop being you. Tag a beautiful woman! @tristamariemcg ✨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #lizzo #womeninhiphop #zerofucksgiven #beyou
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Aug 27, 2019 at 5:27am PDT
सलोनी चोपड़ा की हाल ही में शेयर की गई ये सभी तस्वीरें इंटरनेट पर आग की तरह फैल रही हैं।
View this post on Instagram
I’m a little late on this one, but here’s the birthday girl’s outfit from the birthday party earlier this month. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I found this extremely cute gold dress by @lookbookstoredaily and it felt like the universe was sending me a sign, I had to wear it. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ And obviously, because comfort comes first, and sneakers with glitter outfits is probably my favourite rebellious combination – I wore the new @heatwaveindia fashion sneakers that they’ve launched this month – which they also adorably gifted me, for my birthday. Check them out on @heatwaveindia 💕 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Ladies, do you plan a birthday outfit? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #birthdaymonth #birthdaygirl #golddress #birthdaydress #comfortshoes #heatwaveshoes #girlsjustwannahavefun #travel #barcelona #spain #europe
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Aug 23, 2019 at 5:25am PDT
View this post on Instagram
For my girls, that love to travel; #Part1 I know it’s hard. Harder than it sounds, harder than it looks, harder than they tell you it’s going to be. No one tells you, how very scary it is. Everyone talks about the crazy experiences and the fun they’ve had – the cool friends they’ve made. From a distance, it looks amazing. On paper, it looks easy. But from the train journey to the flight to walking down those streets on your own looking on a map, lost, alone, in an unknown country – is scary. That’s the thing about habits – they make us so comfortable in our own little world that we’re petrified of letting go, but the only way to grow in life, is to let go. To step out of your comfort zone, to do something new. The first time I ever travelled alone, I landed in Bangkok city & I was on the phone to my family every 2 minutes, whining, regretting a trip to a new country where I knew nothing & understood no language. I just wanted to be back home, in the comfort of my bed & the familiarity of all the materialistic things that defined me. I was petrified, lost, with a big suitcase, unsure of where to go to get the tickets for my next train that would take me to Koh Tao island. I’d never seen an island before, and in that moment, I thought… ‘it’s okay if I never see one, I just want to be home’. I reached a ferry port and threw my bag and ran to the toilet, sat on the pot, and howled my eyes out. I cried so much. I felt so alone. After a few minutes of crying, I looked up at the door, and in moment, I think in many many ways, my whole world changed. #girlsthattravel #travel #europe #croatia #cavtat #dubrovnik #beach #girls #tobecontinued #gopro #goprohero7 @goproindia
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Aug 19, 2019 at 6:47am PDT
सलोनी चोपड़ा अपनी इन्हीं तस्वीरों के कारण फैंस के बीच लाइमलाइट में बनी रहती हैं।
View this post on Instagram
I am a woman. A woman of colour. Sometimes privileged, often prohibited. Stifled. A woman none the less. Feminine, fragile, strong, masculine. I, am of substance. Wait – sometimes I’m of no substance, but I am the woman I wish to become, instead of desperately clinging onto the idea of an ideal woman, that you‘ve perfectly crafted for me. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I’m a woman. An independent woman. I take pride in my financial independence – my ability to make my own choices because no one is feeding me. The option to walk away, the choice to stay. But that pride I cling onto so much, isn’t all mine. I’m independent not only because I chose to be, but because I was given the opportunities to become. Too many women like me live life without those opportunities. Without independence. Without choices. Dependent on their fathers & husbands – Financially. Emotionally. Socially. The world says, privileged women don’t need to be empowered…why not, I ask? Women from educated families, are also suppressed. How can I ever empower women from villages, if I simply fail to remind my women in cities, that they have an identity too? How can we make gold digger jokes about women using men like ATM’s, when we condition our women to attach their self worth & success to their marriages instead of their individual achievements? Why is it that maternal leave in most places is still for a woman, instead of both parents? Smart, intelligent women, still being conditioned to sacrifice their career growths, so they can have a family – regardless of how much they may love their jobs… because biological clock. I talk to women from different path’s of life, some that want a rich husband because it’s all they were conditioned to want from the beginning, some that want to become that rich husband, some that just want a family & nothing more, others that want to be entrepreneurs & bosses more than they want to be wives & mothers. Many that didnt want a degree just because it looked good on their shaadi portfolio. Some want to be respected, others – just want to be heard. I am a woman, a woman of colour. Idealised, stifled, but free. Let #women choose for themselves – who they wish to be.
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Aug 18, 2019 at 3:02am PDT
View this post on Instagram
I said I’d have a beach bikini body within one month. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ It was hard – very hard to achieve. It took dedication, discipline, money, because let’s not forget, you can’t really get anywhere without the $$$, but at the end of the month… I realised that all it really took was a 12 hour flight – because I already had the bikini body. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Remember, all you ever really need, is to be a body, in a bikini, on a beach. Find the other 2, and fuck the stereotype 🤷‍♀️ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ PS: Bikini @byqabira (launching September) ✨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Photo by @svetlana.barcelonaphoto ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #bikinibody #beachbody #barcelona #qabirabikini #spain #europe #travel #fuckstereotypes #selflove #traveltheworld
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Aug 11, 2019 at 7:57am PDT
सलोनी इसलिए भी सोशल मीडिया पर काफी पॉपुलर हैं क्योंकि वे कटरीना कैफ की हमशक्ल हैं।
View this post on Instagram
Don’t be surprised when I tell you this, like you didn’t already know, we like our women much like we like our dogs, silent and beautiful. A few tricks though, like great cooking skills go a long long way, but much like a humping dog causes embarrassment in front of guests, so does a sexually empowered woman. Stay down, lay low, that little brain wasn’t meant for you to talk about politics and sexual rights – your only identity is the one that leads back to your culture, but if you can learn to pout and tilt your head a little, just a little – enough to seduce him but not enough to be a slut… then you’ll go a long way, honey. A long way in a world where we’re selling something we do not even own ourselves. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ So go on, smile a little, you can sell your body all you like, just as long as you fake it for a while. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Fake it till yo- ah, till you wake up one day and decide not to fake it anymore. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #fakeittillyoumakeit #travel #women #amsterdam #netherlands #netherlands🇳🇱 #europe ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Photograph – @photographer.amsterdam
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Aug 9, 2019 at 8:07am PDT
View this post on Instagram
My happiest place is probably a massage bed – I’m usually automatically in an annoyed mood right after a massage because I cannot accept that it’s over. I’m so sad, and groggy, and annoyed, for almost a good 30 minutes before the calm relaxation kicks in, and everything seems… easier. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I genuinely think there are some things in life, like sushi and massages, that are better than sex, and it really makes you wonder, what is it that really makes the world go around? Love? Sex? Money? Or maybe… therapy? Maybe the chaos before the calm? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ For my birthday yesterday, I got taken to a surprise massage session, right before my surprise cava, and a ridiculous surprise birthday party, and it just wouldn’t be fair to tell you more without the photos! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ For now, here we are. (: ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Thank you, for planning everything @schoujar @rahulb90 @shalsplay … or should I say, Saif, Ranveer & Priyanka? 😂 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #massage #massagerherapy #barcelona #spain #barcelonaspain #travel #selflove #europe #birthdaygift #gothicquarter
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Aug 5, 2019 at 2:47am PDT
सलोनी एमटीवी के शो गर्ल्स ऑन टॉप में नजर आ चुकी हैं।
View this post on Instagram
❌❌❌ finally has a non sexual meaning in my life. Really waited a long time for this day. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Edited with our @byloveandborders Lightroom Presets. Link in my bio. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #amsterdam #netherlands #amsterdam🇳🇱 #Europe #travel #girlsthattravel #presets #lightroompresets #lightroom
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jul 26, 2019 at 11:35am PDT
View this post on Instagram
“Not everything a feminist does, is a feminist act.” – Emma Watson said that. When she posed semi topless for a magazine and peeps were like ‘omg, is this feminism or is it the same old nonsense’… and she said, quoted, “Feminism is about giving women choice. Feminism is not a stick with which to beat other women with. It’s about freedom, it’s about liberation, it’s about equality. I really don’t know what my tits have to do with it.” Lol. I love that she wondered what her tits had anything to do with, while she was topless. Thats kind of the point, like… yes, they’re out. Yes, I believe in women’s rights. Yes, I believe all women should choose for themselves. Yes, I think that’s freedom. No, I do not think women living by my rules is freedom. But we should all, including myself, be allowed to do whatever we want. Yes, tits are out, no, not in the mood to discuss women’s rights today but they’re out anyway and what’s my tits got to do with anything? Oh @emmawatson , we love you. I don’t know why but I thought of that quote tonight… even though no tits today. Lucky you, not for long though. 🌸 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #wordvomit #women #beyou #equality #emmawatson
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jul 20, 2019 at 11:33am PDT
इतना ही नहीं वह सलमान खान की फिल्म रेस 3 में भी नजर आ चुकी हैं।
View this post on Instagram
When you travel and open your heart to the world, you realise… we, as people, we’re all somewhat connected. Often with love, grief and our dreams… but ever so often, also with our significant importance of Gates, how we love building massive entrances to places even though a pathway would’ve done the same job. But no, we as people, we’re all about the big things… our grandeur gestures and ways of life, our histories, you know we’re not that different at all 🌸 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Barcelona – Spain ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #barcelona #spain #indiagate #gatewayofindia #history #people #humanity #travel #redheadtravels #europe Edited using our @byloveandborders presets.
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jul 13, 2019 at 1:38am PDT
View this post on Instagram
Hey @rahulb90 – give me a caption! I said. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Rahul: “I cant. You write what you do well already. And your followers like what you write. Except for the haters, ugh, it’s so annoying – it bothers me what morons say but I can’t control what morons say, or how they’ve been raised and conditioned, so I just don’t read your comments anymore. They’re morons and after a point they don’t just hate what you’re saying they hate you as a person because they get personal because well, they are morons. You could talk about school or disabilities & morons will comment. But I think ‘influencing’ works in a way where even though people may hate you, you’re doing it because someone somewhere, gets inspired by your actions. Some women may feel better about what they’re doing or finally get the courage to say fuck off to someone that’s bullying them or stop caring about others. Maybe they’ve always wanted to put up this one photo of theirs that they like but are so scared of what others will say that they don’t. And then they look at your profile, and they feel better. That’s influence by definition. It’s the same thing that we often have at home from older siblings and the way they inspire us or motivate us. That’s really just where the word comes from… being influenced. Not being someone that makes people feel miserable about the things they don’t have or simply being known. And you write for those people. That’s nice” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Me: “Umm… wow. I was thinking more like, ‘Candid-can-doooo’ but thanks for giving me something better. You should talk more, my women need you.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #bethechange 📸 @rahulb90
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jul 11, 2019 at 7:55am PDT
बताते चलें कि सलोनी के इंस्टा पर 443k फॉलोअर्स हैं।
View this post on Instagram
To; My dear friends with kids. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I’m sorry I haven’t stayed in touch a lot lately. I tend to wander off in my own world, forgetting to share your happiness with you. I’ve been a little unfair & dishonest about my feelings, mostly cause I’m so scared that you’ll hate me, or judge me – but I guess I just have to trust you with my truth. I’ve been feeling a little distant from my friends with families. No, I’m not ‘lost’ nor am I ‘unhappy’ & I definitely don’t love you any less than I did before. But life is unpredictable & full of surprises. At 20, I had a ‘deadline’ for myself to adopt my first child by 30, which over the last few years changed – it became 35, then 32, again 30, and now – I’m at a point where I’ve decided to stop pushing deadlines down my throat just because it’s what’s expected of me. I still want to adopt more than anything else in this world, but I want to live, first. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Unfortunately it requires me to get my ‘ducks in a row’ in order to be legally eligible – marriage, buy a house, pay loans – but my ducks are currently running around the farm crazy & they seem so… happy! If I ever wanted to give birth, I would’ve done it right now & travelled the world with my child – but I’ve never wanted to bring another life into this world. I’ve wanted to adopt since I was 13 yrs old. And right now – I need to live, learn & grow as a person before I can be half the parent you’ve so effortlessly become. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I don’t want to burden myself with mortgage & loans just to prove to a government that id make a good parent – I’m not there yet. If I tied myself down, I’d hate myself & everyone around me. I’ll feel trapped. No one will be happy then. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I need to be able to be happy with where I am – who I am, before I can be answerable for a child that’s already seen the worst. So yes, I’ve been distracted with my dreams, often detached from your stories. But I’m watching from afar, I promise! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ From the baby steps to that adorable smile all over your feed – I’m so happy that you’ve found this magic! I promise when I’m ready, I will return. Love, The aunty that would rather not miss out on their 1st period or heartbreak 😛
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jul 9, 2019 at 3:44am PDT
View this post on Instagram
Hi beautiful ladies! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ The secret store launching @byqabira will only be available for the people that have filled the form on www.byqabira.com ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ If you’ve already signed up – you’ll get first preference to the extremely limited, selected pieces once launched before anyone else. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ If you haven’t… link in my bio ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Stay tuned this week ✨ ✨ ✨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 📸 @zainaliphotography ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #byqabira #bikini #beachwear #bikiniindia #swimwear #fashion
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jul 4, 2019 at 9:34pm PDT
वहीं वे अपने लंबे इंस्टाग्राम पोस्ट्स के लिए भी जानी जाती हैं जिनमें वे उन तमाम मुद्दों पर बात करती हैं जिनपर बात करने से सेलिब्रिटीज़ अक्सर कतराते हैं।
View this post on Instagram
Now launching the new LG W30 with a triple camera set up! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Depth sensor, wide angle and low light camera – there’s something in this for everyone – specially if you love travel and photography. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ They have 3 colours – I personally adore the aurora green & thunder blue – but the grey is a great way to stay neutral too! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ The processor makes it extremely easy to multitask between multiple apps smoothly – which honestly helps if you’re as busy up as I am these days planning my big birthday trip. That’s right, birthdaaaaay comin’ up! 🙈 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Here’s me mucking around and trying out the features while Rahul uses me as his muse! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Grab yourself the new LG W30 on 10th July from the @amazondotin link in my bio & stories! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Starting at only Rs.9,999/- ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This one’s a keeper! 😉 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #lgwseries #lgtriplecam #lgftw #platinumgrey #auroragreen #thunderblue
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jul 3, 2019 at 1:44am PDT
View this post on Instagram
I recently read that these countries below are apparently the ‘safest’ for women to travel solo. Now while I don’t know what statistics that’s based on, given that anything could happen anywhere, but I guess considering the situation in our own home country, I mean – let’s not kid anyone, you can be patriotic and love your home and still acknowledge the drawbacks within… just as a mother can love it’s child but real love would not be to overlook and ignore their wrong doings, but instead to address them and help them be better – so while many of us MAY have had safe travels here at home, it isn’t necessarily a safe country for women to travel solo in. You’d have time and clothing restrictions, and that’s just to begin with. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ But I would imagine some countries are easier and safer than others. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I’m sharing this list with you humans, mostly to also know if any of you have ever been? If yes, then what do you think? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 1. Finland 2. Canada 3. New Zealand 4. Uruguay 5. Switzerland 6. Belgium 7. Austria 8. Iceland 9. Japan 10. Chile ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Have you been to any of them? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Tag a girl that travels ☂️ ✈️ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #chile #japan #newzealand #iceland #canada #austria #belgium #switzerland #uruguay #finland #travel #girlsthattravel #solotravel #tagagirl #southkorea #korea #seoul
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jun 30, 2019 at 8:50am PDT
वो उन चंद सेलिब्रिटीज़ में शामिल है जो अक्सर उन मुद्दों पर लिखते हैं जो अनछुए हैं।
View this post on Instagram
Behind The Scenes ✨ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Have you signed up to @byqabira yet? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I know you‘ve waited so patiently for the collection to launch, we’ve had SO many forms in the last week! Turns out you love some beach wear as much as I do, and YES, we do make in ALL sizes! 😉 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This week we’re releasing a secret store, only for those of you that filled in the form on the website! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ The collection will be exclusively emailed to you with a secret link, and limited pieces to buy. So if you haven’t signed up yet, the link is in my bio – and make sure you check your email this week! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ OR… ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Go to www.byqabira.com ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 📸 @zainaliphotography shooting a little sneak peak of my personal favourite outfit from the collection! PS: Contrary to popular belief, Pockets, not Diamonds, are a girl’s best friend – and even in beach wear we got you covered! 😉 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #byqabira #beachwear #swimwear #bikini #bikiniindia #beachwearindia #red #waterchild #beachwearfashion #bikiniseason #shoponline #behindthescenes #bts #redheadwayfarer #bikinibody #allbodiesarebeachbodies
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jun 24, 2019 at 11:31am PDT
View this post on Instagram
Day 2 at @umfkorea_official You guys picked out what I’m wearing today, and not only did you pick the right one, but you ALSO picked something that I’ve designed myself for the collection coming up on @byqabira – I’ve been so excited to wear them, and even more to share it with you… so this ones for you my lovely beautiful gorgeous Squad! Have a nice weekend. Be nice to people, even when all you want to do is slap them hard, try to find your kind chakras within 😉 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #ultrakorea #ultrakorea2019 #ultrafestival #travel #korea #southkorea #seoulkorea #seoul #byqabira
A post shared by Saloni Chopra (@salonichopraofficial) on Jun 8, 2019 at 1:19am PDT
यह भी पढ़ें: इस खूबसूरत एक्ट्रेस की Photos देख खो देंगे अपना दिल!
यह भी पढ़ें: मॉडल की हॉटनेस से गरमाया माहौल, कहर बरपा रही BOLD PICS
[better-ads type=”banner” banner=”104009″ campaign=”none” count=”2″ columns=”1″ orderby=”rand” order=”ASC” align=”center” show-caption=”1″][/better-ads]
(अन्य खबरों के लिए हमें फेसबुक पर ज्वॉइन करें। आप हमें ट्विटर पर भी फॉलो कर सकते हैं। अगर आप हेलो एप्प, डेलीहंट या शेयरचैट इस्तेमाल करते हैं तो हमसे जुड़ें।)
कटरीना जैसी दिखती है ये मॉडल, HOT तस्वीरों से इंटरनेट पर लगाई आग एक्ट्रेस और मॉडल सलोनी चोपड़ा ने एक बार फिर अपनी हॉट तस्वीरों से फैंस का ध्यान अपनी ओर खींचा है। आए दिन वह सोशल मीडिया पर अपनी तस्वीरें शेयर कर तहलका मचाया करती है।
0 notes