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I'm sorry for you, but you are now members of this community and nothing and no one can save you from me and gondolin_maid . Two perverted, to be exact.
We just had time to thank you for participating in the challenge on advertising, that here we are with a new challenge ...

OBJECTS

toys, and ladies (I hope there sometimes) lords. Or rather, everything that is not human, you can leave your animals. Tremble because there's more. Are you already thinking about how many crack fic will come out? How many ideas will pervert your mind? Pause for a moment because we are evil (to name gondolin_maid): are allowed and repeat people allowed in the pairing, always with the presence of objects / animals.
Exactly, exactly. All this so that you can write a fanfic George Clooney / motorcycle. * Innocent *
example I hope the explanation is clear, if it is not any doubt this is the right place to use. We do not care, nor bite, I promise.
You have two months time. Now, now, that time is never enough!

Important: When you post you should add ~
:
Challenge: The Regulation of objects
~ community is always the same, respect, thanks
~ Your stories for this challenge can participate in other initiatives and may be crossposted everywhere.

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unknown_fandom

Funny Guestbook Wedding

preposterous story that is featured on the ideal city EFP
















I came out last night, I do not know why. The heat
me dominated and I wrote until midnight
: D. Sometimes it happens to me: DDD

How about I leave it in one shot? However, the words are written purposely mangled the prof: D







"Hey Chiara come to class dinner?"

Third high school, class dinner averages, class hated by
deep, except some people.

"No, I can not Saturday
is the birthday of my mother and go out for dinner. "his voice annoyed me is
natural.

"Come on! Tell your coming to eat in the restaurant where we go
us, "Victoria told me, girl you know
kindergarten, elementary, middle, but in different classes
(thankfully) in high school.

"No really, next year, I promise"
fingers crossed of course are a must. I check a hint
a smile of satisfaction, but only I know.

"All right! Next year then. "Exclaims a little
'disconsolate.

Luckily it goes ... I could not bear it
a minute more. It 's been days that I stress with dinner
class, but I just do not want to go, mainly for two reasons:

I did not want to see my friends, even
why my longtime friend would not go
for the same reason, or because they had other commitments.

I had no desire to see him again, although in theory I had not done anything
.

For him I had developed a sort of hatred / semi-attraction
knew not well defined.

The distance I had done well, in fact last
he had chosen another school, if I had seen every day would
was my purpose and my report card in 8
I would do "hello" as the kids of Heidi.

When I saw him miss a good part of my
solid mental clarity.

I never wanted to give up, I never really knew whether he was interested
me. I had always been diffident in his
comparisons, especially for his character, the typical bastard,
very nice course that is fun to go with them all, and they were there
, remains "friends" or perhaps something more
. In short, the usual whores, as there are in all
classes, but they were the majority in my.

At least all the female component during a period in the medium,
had taken a crush on, who more or less intense for him.

Except me.

Until the second half of the media, despite the
majority of females in my class, I was never interested in
guys, I even caring about it. Then I had "
woke up, and I wondered what was
the indictment.

I wondered also why many in the third
already had the "boy" and I do not, in fact, I
seemed that nobody cared about me. I was not beautiful (but
of my friends said I was not "evil"), not much
lean even say that there was a full 44, little breast, hair
blacks, blacks eyes, dark skin, and summer
was much like that of Cuba. At least I was not very low
as many of my companions. But I do not consider myself beautiful
. (Now, fortunately, are thinner, but the curves are still there, but I'm proud
!)

Then around April, the Italian teacher had the brilliant idea of
change places, and I found myself in front of him. And I do not know how
, awakened something in me. Even today when I think I
such comes a bit 'chills.

One morning, I was practically lying on the bench listening to the
boring history lesson with one hand dangling over the edge, he
me took it and began to stroke his fingers. I left
do, probably because I did not even notice
of what he was doing.

Day after day, however, continued to tip his hand in the hope that
rifacesse him, and sometimes going on. The same afternoon
was asking myself about my behavior and I realized that
probably he was just a game, but for me it might be
could become something more.

So I decided to be separate, because
also knew that her beauty was directly proportional to its
s ****** ggine. They were the opinion that I would give to my friends but especially his
Friends
intimidate me but more of his character. That row
geese, those stupid boys, who attended some laps or
had started dating, in fact I felt uneasy to think of a
distant future with him. But sometimes I look
involuntarily escaped on her hair light brown, almost imperceptibly
moved, or on his hands, which were a
parts of his body that I liked more, or
on his chiseled physique, lean and muscled like a handball player.
Even his face was beautiful.

My friends, my choice, they have never heard of my
inner conflict, but I think anyway
they had already learned a bit '.

So I gave up. In spite of everything. I could not wait to finish
time averages, not to see more
hated that class, which was composed of more
geese and first-class whores.



And then I came to ask if I was going to meet again with the
people? No way!

In my class I am very well, and there are a lot of guys
very beautiful, and I'm friends with them. Marco, in particular as I know from kindergarten
Victoria, we were in class together.
nice, not great, but with stunning green eyes,
but much in the clouds and a little 'opportunist, but my best friend from the first
higher.

John, very clear blue eyes, blond, boyfriend some
tronista, rejected in a second, but if I'm not mistaken,
is a bit concerned 'to me. But I do not want
alienate anyone, so I'm not. Although
joke with him and have fun. But

played 16 years I have not kissed anyone. But I'm not the only
.

Putting these thoughts from back in the classroom, recreation
is over.

"Giusy who's next?"

"La Grande ..." The Professor of Latin,
invornita considered the most and most likely, all the teachers in our section
body, old and most
Sardinia.

"Ragggazzi the profssessa of the Italian pitcher
brought to the theater for a show next Tuesday. There
go? "

no doubt answer in the affirmative, even
because our course is really very few trips.

The show is called "Demons", a modern ballet in
, I think I like it.

The days go quickly and with them the evening of the class to which I was
was miraculously spared, after having escaped, thanks
a justification for mass,
dreaded question of mathematics, we are approaching the release of high school.

On the street we are all in a big group, I embraced a
Mark and John, and next to Mark, my best friend Sara, she
in my class average.

"Maybe there will be no school today
theater" asks Sara to himself.

"Well, that materials may be the classic, surveyors and
certainly other sections of our high school that will come with
Graziosi."

The walk proceeds of laughter and music attached, so our
prof. not feel it and we joke about how crazy.

The theater is at the door and once inside we settled in
audience, because we were one of the first classes
reserve seats, so we have the best.

"Hey look who's in line to the right of our
but one place ahead of us!" I
Sara whispers to the ear, in the confusion of the theater.

I almost feel faint, but to keep self-control effort. Maybe I'm just
bleached.

Just two feet from me is him, Francis,
what I tried to ignore.
not seen him since the day of the written mathematics of averages, ie
almost four years. In middle school my classmates
fantasized about how nice it would become when he went to high school in the third,
16 years and was absolutely right:
had become even more beautiful, higher, same hair, same beautiful hands
, same green eyes -brown, but her face
more adult, more pronounced. And the physical is not
changed at all. He wears a light gray cotton sweater
a bit 'tight, to highlight the muscles (usually the rooster,
has not changed) in a white shirt with no collar and a pair of blue jeans
.

A flash over me burning the stomach, it was a long time since I
happened and I knew since.

Unfortunately he sees us and greets us, but the conversation is short, how are you and
just a good show.

latter begin within a few minutes, I want to be bad luck
the penultimate row then, he, I can see it fine.
Fortunately, I do take the music and dance, and his
leaves me thinking.

A sudden movement to my right attracts me. And 'his
you fix your hair. The breathing is accelerated, but I still
impose self-control and concentration to enjoy the spectacle
.

"What's wrong?" I asked Mark, sitting between me and
John and Sara to my right.

"No, it's a bit 'cold here in
theater ..." I'm lying shamelessly.

"You want my scarf?"

How kind! Even as a child I wondered who I would marry
and immediately came to mind Mark, a guy very funny, and that many times the
thought like me, perfect for the family. I would be fine with him.

"Yes please" I reply, although in reality
I felt rather hot.

The show goes on without break and with beautiful dancers.
between me and Sarah is a continuous exchange of jokes.

Sometimes it fixed, thinking that I could go there,
talk, maybe things will evolve (on time
these thoughts is shaky stomach) or go
as if nothing had happened and not caring about it. Looking
rediscover every detail of his face and his hands that I had forgotten,
every expression, every movement, all obscured by time. Meanwhile I hope that the prof
, but especially my friends do not even notice that I'm not just
following the show closely. John
watching me with a quizzical look, but I shrugged and
I focus on the last quarter of an hour of ballet.

Finally all ends, I get up and I went toward the exit. Fortunately he stayed
blocked, I'm not going to see
other 2 / 3 years if possible, but in a small town like mine
with three schools in
cross is an arduous enough, but if there was
succeeded so well in that time because there
I could still succeed?

Greeted with a kiss, John, Mark and Sara's hand and the rest of my class
I start walking toward the square on the way to go home
, given that the show lasted until the end of the school
.

specially the way I take longer to clear my
ideas, so now the folder does not weigh much. I am also sure that

I will follow him, as
lives in a village on the outskirts, in order to achieve
is obliged to take a bus, I guess along with another friend of mine
medium, Alessio.

I decide to stop at a pizzeria, so just
got home I should not be mad at my grandmother's cooking.

"A piece of pizza, please" ask

"Even for me, thanks." I do not believe my ears, is
time if I do not really stand up to counter the risk of fainting from fright
. That voice know her among a thousand. That
"r" does not fly, a little '
phlegm "as I like to call it, especially not ever confuse the
. In just a few speak well.

around me, unable to understand my expression, probably surprise.

He smiles at me. And I, unable to sustain his eyes, I turn
again, I pay for my pizza and go without bothering to look. I realize

shock to walk a few yards, pizza in hand
as an ornament.

throw away the pizza, so I went hungry.

Around a side street, which on sunny days and
one in the morning is not frequented by many.

I lean against the wall, to cool ideas, even if we are right in
winter In early February, and there are 0 degrees, even
o'clock.

close my eyes to reflect, and to calm down. I wonder why
reacted that way.

Basically I should know, for him this is just another
of its games.

calm and I open my eyes.

His face is inches away from mine. My face took on an expression
probably surprised, perhaps even a bit
'scared. 'If you find this experience
had lived a middle-aged, he would have already come a
infarction' I think.

"So this is the way to treat an old friend
?" His voice, more deep as the
remember is even more beautiful. But it irritates me.

"You're not my friend," I reply vehemently.

"Oh no? Best. "He smiles.

approached me and kisses, a kiss before I just mentioned,
to test my reaction, then sweet, with an infinite sweetness. I can not resist
and yield.

and the kiss becomes full of passion, hoping a kiss, a kiss
waited, longed for a kiss, and time is lost in its endless cycle
left out of its course.