Idris Elba is so sexy, he makes me angry sometimes. I mean look at him with that stupid sexy face. We get it, you’re gorgeous. Ugh.
I take it as a personal affront that he’d dare stare at me through the screen with those eyes that say, “how bout we go back to my flat and shag.” Maybe I don’t want to go home with you, Idris. Maybe, I can’t even walk because your stupid glistening pecs keep making me weak in the knees.
Did you even consider that? No, of course not. You’re too busy taking shirtless pics and making videos of your muscles flexing under that silky skin.
For god sake, your Instagram gives me heart palpitations. What if I had a heart condition? What if I have a heart attack? Huh? Then what would you do?
Just because your smile would resuscitate me instantly doesn’t mean that you can just throw that sexy around willy nilly. With great biceps comes great responsibility. There isn’t a glass big enough to quench the thirst you’re causing; think about the environment.
You gonna guard Asgard but you can’t guard my heart, Idris. Ok, I see how it is. I think I’m going to have a talk with your mother … and thank her.