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#also this isn’t proofread so if u see typos no u don’t

gamermattsgf · 3 months

Note

hey ik this isn’t a req but do you have any tips on writing fics?? im planning on writing and posting on my blog and you’re one of my biggest inspos so i’d love to hear your advice!!!

HIIIII, I’m so sorry I’ve gotten to u so late. I’ve been a bit MIA on here for a while because of stuff going on in my personal life, however, I would love love love to give you some of my personal tips :))

Another anonymous has asked something similar so this is also for them if they’re seeing this!! 🎀

Tip 1 : I’d say my first and most important tip is detail. In my own personal experience, people get bored of reading the exact same generic language used in the same way, if ur going to use generic language then as long as u can manipulate it to make it look pleasing + make it flow, you’ll be fine. People enjoy a story much more if it’s packed full of detail because they’ll be able to visualise it better. And yes, although sometimes it can be draining and you can get bored constantly having to put in detail, trust me, push through it and the writing will be much nicer in the end.

Tip 2 : my second tip is pretty simple, but much needed. DON’T GET LAZY WITH TENSE / PARAGRAPH SPACING AND PUNCTUATION. Obviously, it’s an absolute bitch trying to proofread everything, but when you don’t and someone is reading something with a bunch of typos + different tenses in it, it just looks poor and messy, especially when your paragraphing is all over the place, so be aware of that.

Tip 3 : Again, this is personal preference for me, but I’m often more drawn to stories that are unique / have specific character aesthetics. Don’t get me wrong, I love a simple reader x bf!Matt or bf!Chris, but don’t be afraid to shake it up a little. Maybe they’ve got a unique aesthetic? Or something that they really like? Or they have a specific piercing/tattoo (I could go on with this but I think you get the idea lol).

Tip 4 : PLOT. It’s important to build up character relationships and equally build up the atmosphere and vibe of your fic, don’t skip it just to get straight to the good bit, because 9/10 times it’s not worth it because your piece of writing lacks flow. Plus plot is so fun to write in my opinion, sometimes I get bored of writing smut because the actual characters are more interesting haha. (Side note: I wanna start writing angst and tooth rot for you guys 💀)

Tip 5 : finally, if you’re wanting to write about Matt and Chris, I think it’s essential you get each of their mannerisms right. You know you’re reading something good when you can actually picture them saying / doing what’s written down in the fic. Also I know this is weird but clothes are important, you need to make sure you write them into something they would / could pull off because it boosts your writing. Equally, if your going to use pet names, make sure it’s something you can picture them saying, if you can’t visualise it in their voice in your head, then don’t use it because I guarantee you it’ll also come out wrong in the reader’s head.

💋: that’s pretty much my 5 main tips that I live by whilst writing, if anyone needs any more help don’t be shy to message me :) thank you for even wanted my advice on the matter, it means a lot to me that people take inspiration from what I write.

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short-black-diamond · 11 months

Note

Hiii :)

Hope ur doing okay <3. I wanted to ask if u could make a part 2 of Tokyo revengers member with a hijabi girl but this time they’re married and it’s like a headcanon of how the guys act in public, or if they help her to dress up please ! :) (if u do it, I’m okay with all characters but can u add mitsuya plzzz)

I rlly don’t know if that’s clear bc English isn’t my first language but I hope it is and sorry for the typos !!

Btw hello from France, I love ur headcanons hehee :))

Heyyy, I hope everything is okay over there, France looks like it's burning rn from the news I'm getting. Also yeah I am totally doing this!

Also your english is pretty good so don't worry sweetheart,

Also I did not proofread

Characters : Ran, Rindou, Sanzu, Baji, Mitsuya

Tokyo revengers with a muslim wife :D

Part one , part two -> tr with a muslim friend

Ran

This slick mf

this click model lanky ass dude mf

how did you even get to date him? With his fvking braids???

Anyways, back to the now where he has a better haircut-

Since he is what we could say the main leader of Roppongi, he must also have access to many clothing shops

and when I tell you he let his underlings install as many modest shops as possible-

just to go on a walk with you and be like-

"Oh, that is new. Wanna go in and see some dresses or skirts for you?"

again, he is a slick mf

but you somehow love him so i let you vibbeeeee

"Oh, that looks nice- oop, nope, not for me.", you muttered after you checked the price on the tag of a pretty looking dress

but ran just took it and put it on his underarm like a waiter would

you felt bad the whole time

cuz like, everything is so expensive???

but no shit cuz it has qualityyyyy

chile anyways

you got like ten dresses and two abayas you wanted to "just try out"

mind you ran is actually planning to buy the whole store for you

but you are also no better, you are a lil shit as well

when you got to the place where they hung the hijabs, you smirked at him mischieviously

your were trying to hold in your laugh as you tapped him on the shoulder

"He-hey Ran...w-wanna try this out?", and you couldn't do no more than to burst out laughing

ran just smiled at you in fondness while he thought back to the day where you first led him to one of the stores you frequented and he wanted to make you laugh

so he put on a headshawl, but he looked more like a grandma than a modest woman

and you had that exact picture in mind as you were giggling

at least he was your husband now

he pays for everything, he is sweet to you, and you feel comfortable around him, even in public

y'all look like a power couple tbh

he looks rich and you're his precious woman

damn I'm feeling so single now. Thanks for requesting this. It's a great reminder on how I'll never find a rich man like him.

Rindou

shy, still surprised and happy that you decided to marry him

like, you married him? he was bald on both sides of his head in his teen age gírl!

he looks better now-

enough of the bullying, this tsundere man (I still know nothing about these guys) had the same idea as his older brother and so, there were many shops, but under his name. He financed them, and so it was no surprise when he took you out on a shopping spree, only for you to take whatever you want

safe to say he fell in love all over again when he saw you happily strolling ahead and picked some clothes for yourself

he also loves showing you off

like, he's also lucky that you don't mind stepping out in public with him

y'all also look like a power couple

and honestly, he thinks that you look absolutely beautiful, covered in the finest silk and smiling that sweet smile of yours

Sanzu

You were the reason he stopped falling into the abyss of temporary ecstasy, which would lead to his death

He was surprised that you didn't look at him weirdly

and now, he is happy to call himself your husband

he loves touching the different susbances like jersey, silk, or cotton cloth, which you would use to cover your head with

"This one looks nice! Want me to buy it for you?"

Such a sweet man for you

always tells you when there's hair visible, also stands in front of you, looking down on you with a fond smile as you hurriedly fix your hijab

loves holding your hand and swinging it around

Feels much better when you tell him about Islam and stories from the prophets

wants to protect you at all costs because you're just so beautiful and sweet and he wouldn't be able to live alone anymore if something happened to you,

I mean,

you saved him from the drugs and alcohol, he wants to save you form all the bastards outside

Baji

You guys got together because he beated up a few guys who were harrassing you

stares at the men who look at you for longer than 0.0000001 second

like Baji...

please-

anyways

hates it when you wash your stuff and he has to iron them then, because he fears that he'd either not iron it perfectly, or the iron burns your precious and expensive cloths

you always tell him to let you do it yourself, his deadass response is always:

"If I can't iron my wife's clothes then what type of man am I?!?"

We love Baji

Is also in love with your cooking? Or when you go to a restaurant which has your traditional food, he is all in

wants to have kids with you, like in the first month of being married, he was like, "would you like to start a family? I'd love to see my daughters wearing hijabs as well"

Goals

we got him, sisters

You smile, "Let's wait a little"

Like c'mon Baji, let your wife have a calm live, kids can come later

but he still managed to put you into a baby fever

Sends you fucking videos of mothers playing with their daughters

little girls putting on niqabs

little biys praying alongside or behind their father

Baji got taught how to pray by you, your father, or his newly found friends in mosques

he wants to have children so bad, and the fact that Islam is not just a religion but the way of living life, he wants to teach his younglings as well

(How did I think about kids all of a sudden???)

Mitsuya

You better believe that when you ask him to go buy clothes with you, he's only looking for ideal cotton which won't irritate your skin

will make you feel guilty by saying: "don't you trust my skills?"

damn another gaslighter, but in a healthy way

I mean, sure, buying cotton itself is expensive, but at least he knows what fits you spot on and you don't have to look for stuff that you'll only wear once a month

takes lessons on how to make the perfect hijab and dress for you

I've said it once but I'll say it again,

GOALSSS

ok now here again

will have the same idea as baji and ask you if you'd like to have kids

to make them hijabs as well

In his next fashion meeting, he introduces the idea of having his models run the stage with modest clothing, and got accepted

when I tell you their marketing skyrocketed-

You're happy that your husband launches modest clothing for other muslims as well

---

Sorry if it got shorter and shorter but that was all I could come up with. And now looking back, I'm confused as to why Ran's is so long, I don't even like him, like wtf?

Anyways, I hope you liked it!

Leave a like or a comment! Reblog if you want to!

Read you in the next post!

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myakkun · 3 years

Text

ROYAL PAIN | RYUGUJI KEN

royal au ; betrothed ; mentions of poison

“i’m not fucking kissing them.”

“he’s not fucking kiss me.”

“your highnesses,” mitsuya hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose as he bites back the urge to literally rip off the people in front of him’s heads. “there’s no time for your petty grudges. we are under a time crunch.”

“the only crunch there will be is draken’s nose if he gets another step closer to me,” you bite off, pressing the heel of your palm to your temple. you sway a little on your feet and you’re lucky there’s a desk behind you that you can halfway sit on to stable yourself.

“funny, i was thinking the same thing,” the prince smiles—sarcastic and condescending—as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

when you went out on your designated and mandatory weekly outing with your—begrudging on both ends, mind you—betrothed, you’d expected a silent few hours spent under chaperoned care as the two of you sat in the garden and tried to ignore the other’s presence. that’s what you and draken normally did, anyways. spent time together without indulging the other at all. the two of you butt heads like toddlers fighting over the same swing when there was an empty one right next to it; pointless but unwavering. your families hadn’t a clue, and they wouldn’t, not with the lovesick act you both put on around them to appease their old hearts. you’d expected this afternoon’s “date” to go like any other.

but apparently when you fight fate long enough it has its way of biting you in the ass, and today’s the day fate decided to take a bite.

it comes in the form of a muffin. normally one of the maidens or a servant will bring baskets out for you and draken throughout your rendezvous, and today was no different. a sweet young boy whom you’d recognized from working around the kitchen had brought the food out to you and bid you both with a bow before scampering right along. you hadn’t eaten all day and the muffin was practically calling your name from where it sat perfectly atop all the others.

one morsel was all it took for you to know something wasn’t right, and you’d hoped maybe your taste buds had just been acting up, but no.

fate took a big bite.

so, that’s how you not only ended up poisoned in the middle of your betrothed’s garden, but it’s also how you ended up here. locked in a secret room in draken’s castle with him and his personal guard mitsuya for the unforeseen future while knights and whoever the hell else try to search for the person responsible.

you cough into your hand and grip onto the desk.

“your highness,” mitsuya addresses, a hint more formality to his tone now as he takes a step towards you, “i’m afraid you’re getting worse, and you know that if you would just—“

“no, we don’t know that,” you interject. another cough wracks through you. your mouth feels impossibly dry. “kissing him only works if it’s that.. ‘true love’ shit and, correct me if i’m mistaken, but that seems like a far cry, no? now, what we do know is that.. this is taking longer. because i did not eat a-all of. all..”

“your grace?” mitsuya ushers, hand reaching for your shoulder as your lids start to droop and your body follow suit. “your grace, look at me. focus, please.”

“sorry i—i..“

and the guard is starting to fade out in front of you, double and triple and then come back together in a way that’s making you dizzy. your already hazy and clogged brain is turning into mush tenfold. as you go to continue, open your mouth again to try to finish your explanation, you feel your body give out entirely.

“fuck,” he mutters, hardly able to catch you before you crumple to floor altogether. “sir, help me carry them to the couch.”

it’s almost funny, how even poisoned to near death you still try to swat draken away as he comes to your aid.

“don’t.. d-don’t fuckin’ need the help from y-you,” you grumble, words slurred and unarticulated in a way you know your mother would scold you for.

draken scoffs. “trust me, i don’t want to be doing this any more than you want me to,” he retorts, throwing your arm over his shoulder and effectively helping mitsuya lug you over to the couch.

mitsuya, the angel, tries to be somewhat gentle in laying you down a top the cushions.

draken drops you the first chance he gets.

“i’m uncertain on what to do,” mitsuya says as he stands next to the prince, fingers fiddling with themselves like he’s ready to strike at any given moment given a command. “nobody is to come in or out of this room until the assailant is captured but if they don’t find them soon it won’t matter.”

he turns to draken then, a determination in his eyes that the blond is regrettably familiar with, and draken is tempted to find that muffin and take a chunk out of it himself.

“no.”

“sir.”

“no.”

“sir, please.”

“i refuse—“

“they’re dying!” mitsuya shouts. and he knows he’s stepping out of line, even if he’s known the prince for years. draken could have his head for this in a split second if he wanted to. but he can’t just sit by and watch this happen. “your highness, they are dying. i know you cannot stand each other. i know the two of you have some sort of quarrel. but you should at least try. you may be comfortable leaving this room with one less person but i most certainly am not. so your majesty, please.”

draken considers, for a very brief moment, if he should stab himself with the dagger on mitsuya’s hip—then he decides against it, because if you were to live he can only imagine the words you’d say without him there to snap back. and that’s simply unimaginable.

he turns his gaze to you.

you, who is normally so full of spunk and spirit and moxie. you, who is always ready and waiting with a comeback on the tip of your tongue, the perfect rebuttable to whatever it is he has to say and the perfect chide to match when he counters back. you, who is always shouting with him and at him and to him with your voice booming and unwavering and rocking him all the way into his chest.

you, who is now emptied of all that.

“okay,” he mutters, low and uneasy, as he takes an immediate step back towards the couch.

okay, he thinks, because this isn’t the you he knows. he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so silent for so long, doesn’t think he’s ever been forced to picture you laying so still. there’s an endless shiver that’s rattling through you despite the coat tugged around your shoulders. your eyes aren’t keen and coy, but instead dazed out and spaced. no, this isn’t the you he knows at all. this feels like the shell that’s left of it.

you don’t even try to fight him as he raises your head up enough to slip onto the couch, laying it back into his lap. his chest hurts.

“y-you’re.. you’re going t-to..”

“yes,” he cuts you off, because he can tell it’s hard, to push the words out at this point. he brushes a piece of hair out of your face, slightly damp with sweat as it clings to your feverish forehead. “i’m going to.”

you hum, another cough ripping out of you and your entire body jerks with it. god, it must hurt.

draken is hit with something then, something chilling and warming at the same time that runs up his spine and wraps around his throat. he presses his fingers to your cheek to make you actually look up at him, and he swears he can literally see it—the way that roaring flame in your eyes dies down to nothing more than a glowing ember as the poison does it’s best to soak up every last drop of you.

he’s going to kiss you.

and he knows.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, as a tear slips out of your eye. you’re practically gasping for air at this point as he pulls you closer to him, cradles the back of your head as he draws you nearer. he brushes the tear away with his thumb. “you better not kill me if this works.”

your breath puffs against his lips and if draken didn’t know any better, he’d think it was your weak attempt at a laugh. but he doesn’t have time to think too much about that as he leans that little bit forward.

and he kisses you, in a totally non-begrudging way.

it’s a little weird, the feeling that rushes over him as soon as your lips connect. for a second he thinks it might be the poison, somehow spreading to him through you, making his fingers tingle and his cheeks flush and his heart rate sky rocket in his chest. but that theory is blown out of the water as you suck in a gasp while still locked with him.

yeah, he knows that the strong emotion he’s been festering over for years is not hatred.

you pull back, hand placed to draken’s chest as he holds you there, keeps you close, even though he should be shoving you off of him at the first open opportunity. but he doesn’t, and you don’t make a move either. a beat passes, then two, you find yourself getting lost in dark irises and cherry lips and before you know what’s happening his mouth is back on yours as you loop your arms around his neck.

faintly, the two of you can hear mitsuya’s grossed out complaint and grumbles but both of you ignore it, suddenly finding each other far more important than anything else. you try to convince yourself—a last resort grab for straws—that you’re just making sure the whole curse is gone, but you get about a millisecond into that thought and mentally tell yourself to shut the fuck up.

when the two of you part now, you’re having trouble breathing for a reason different than poison altogether. and you’re greeted with a smile, the first genuine one that’s ever been thrown your way from the prince in the entirety that you’ve known him.

“you know, for someone who was so appalled by the idea of kissing ten minutes ago, you don’t seem so disgusted now,” you snark, cheeky grin working it’s way to your lips as you feel the energy start to surge through your body again.

“i could say the same to you,” draken huffs a laugh.

“thought you wanted me dead.” it’s light, teasing as you poke his ribs and bite down on the edge of your lip. “and look at you, prince draken. saving me from my doom.”

“well, yes. i want to kill you myself, couldn’t let the poison steal my thunder.”

you smack his chest. he blows out a chuckle and grabs your hands to hold them to him, like he’s scared to let you go for even a second. and you think he might be, because it must’ve been scary, seeing you like that. sure, you were the one dying, but having to witness it seems nearly equally as traumatic. you start to lean in again, draken already trying to meet you halfway, but a throat clearing stops you both.

“before this escalates any further and i am forever scarred for life,” mitsuya calls from across the room. you and draken both look over at him, greeted by a shit eating grin and a look so prideful it doesn’t really fit his face. “i told you so.”

you aren’t sure whether you want to thank the guard or yell at him, but before you can even decide draken is shoving you away and striding towards him to get into a scuffle you’re far too familiar with between the two. from your seat on the couch you watch draken tussle with pink cheeks and a furrowed brow, and you wonder how you could’ve ever hated a face like that.

and how the hell you were so opposed to kissing it.

reblogs appreciated <3

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jungkxook · 3 years

Text

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?

⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink

⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook and @onherwings for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛

( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )

Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.

Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.

College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.

But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.

“What if we, like, had sex?”

Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.

After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”

“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.

Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”

You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”

“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”

“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”

“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”

The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.

Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.

“But it’s not like you’re any better.”

This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”

“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”

Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.

“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”

A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”

“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”

A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.

“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”

You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.

The cons? He’s your best friend.

The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.

Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.

“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”

“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”

“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”

Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”

“It’s true though.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”

“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”

But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”

As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”

“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”

“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?

You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.

“Y/N…”

The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.

“Touch me?”

Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.

Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.

“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”

But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”

“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.

You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.

“Like this?” You rasp.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”

“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.

“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”

He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?

He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.

“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.

The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.

“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”

And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.

But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.

So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.

Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.

A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?

Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.

“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.

Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.

You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.

“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”

More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”

“Want a minute?”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.

“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”

Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”

“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.

“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”

“Rules.”

“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”

“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”

“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”

“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”

“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”

Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”

Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”

Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”

“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”

“Yup.”

“Who have sex from time to time.”

“Yeah.”

He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”

“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.

“We might?”

“No, we definitely won’t.”

Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.

After all, what are best friends for?

So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.

A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.

It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).

But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.

It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.

Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.

Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”

There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).

But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.

As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.

“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”

“You know him?”

“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”

“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”

You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”

At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, why would I be jealous?”

You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.

So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?

“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”

Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”

“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”

Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.

It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.

“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”

“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”

Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”

Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.

“Jungkook━!”

He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.

“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”

The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.

Fuck it, you cave.

You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.

“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”

That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.

“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”

Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.

“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.

You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.

“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.

From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.

bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??

You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.

That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.

Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.

“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”

The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.

“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”

The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”

“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.

From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.

send n00ds?

miss ur tits :(

Typical Jungkook.

The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”

“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”

“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”

You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?

You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.

But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.

You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”

“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”

“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”

Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.

It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.

“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.

Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.

“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”

“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.

“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.

“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”

He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.

At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.

“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”

Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”

“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”

“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”

“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”

“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”

You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.

“Nngh, Jungkook━”

Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.

God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.

And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.

You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”

In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.

A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”

You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”

“Well…?”

“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”

That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”

“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”

A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.

Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.

That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.

And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.

He smiles.

The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.

For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.

“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”

Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”

“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.

You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━

It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.

“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”

“What?”

“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”

The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”

But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”

You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”

You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”

“Jungkook…”

“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”

“But you wanna.”

“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”

He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.

“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.

He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.

“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”

He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.

You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?

A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.

Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.

So then why does it feel like he is?

When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.

A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?

You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.

Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.

“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”

“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”

You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.

You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”

“And you said you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”

“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”

A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”

Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”

“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”

“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”

Jungkook flinches. “I know.”

“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”

“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.

“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”

“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.

“Why?”

“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”

The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”

“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”

Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━

“No.”

“What?”

“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Me?”

The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.

Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.

It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.

Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.

Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”

Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”

Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”

Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”

You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.

“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”

“Oh, Koo…”

A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.

He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” You whine.

“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”

“You already have.”

“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”

“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”

“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.

“Yeah,” You mewl.

“What do you want from me?”

“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.

He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.

“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”

You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.

So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.

“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”

He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.

“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”

With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.

A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”

“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”

A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.

“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”

“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”

Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”

“No,” You croak.

You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.

“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”

“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”

“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”

His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.

Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”

You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”

“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.

Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”

“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”

Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”

Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.

“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”

As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”

You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.

When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.

It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.

“Jungkook.”

He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”

A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”

“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”

It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”

Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”

His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”

“But?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”

So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.

It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.

Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━

“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”

The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.

“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”

He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”

You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”

“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”

“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.

A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”

Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.

Because he wants it all with you.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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autumn-writes · 3 years

Note

Hi again! I know this one is a bit longer so don’t feel pressured to finish super fast, relax and take your time if you need it! Anyways could I perhaps request the nsfw alphabet and the fluff alphabet for Mondo? If you need to make it two separate posts then that’s cool, and I hope you’re doing well!! Thanks in advance!!

heya raven!! great to see ya again :D! will be doing them separately as to not get anything mixed up. hope you enjoy this!!

Mondo Owada Fluff Alphabet!

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

- He loves that you're so patient with him! He's short tempered, so he's glad that you're able to remain patient.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

- Your waist! He loves how easily he can wrap his arms around them. It's as if he's protecting you >∆<!

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

- Mondo holds you close to him and lets you rest your head on his chest. It's comforting, in a way.

D = Dreams (how do they envision a future with you?)

- He'd like to live with you! He's quite unsure about children since his patience and temper is quite thin, but then again, a family with you doesn't sound bad at all.

E = Everything (you are my _____ eg. everything, heart, soul and etc. )

- "You are my heart and soul."

F = Family (do they want one? if they do, when?)

- Children would be tiring to take care of, but with you, perhaps he'd want one? He's not sure.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? what are their habits when it comes to this?)

- Mondo doesn't really see a point in gift giving, but he does like getting you an occasional gift. Perhaps flowers or something like a necklace.

H = Holding Hands (when and why do they like to hold hands?)

- He holds your hand a lot in public since he wants to secure your safety with him. He also likes how small your hand is compared to his.

I = Inspiration (did you inspire them to start new things or act a different way?)

- He's grown a lot more patient and less short tempered because of you!

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous? if so, how often?)

-Mondo is extremely protective. He gets jealous when you gang out with other guys for a long period of time.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

- His kisses are very passionate. He always leaves you breathless after every kiss!

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

- He's more of a action speaks louder than words type of guy. So he shows his love for you by simple actions like holding your hand, forehead kisses, and letting you ride his bike with him!

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

- He cherishes all memories with you, but his favorite ones are the time where you two are just riding his bike, both of you talking about anything without a worry in mind.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

- He's afraid of losing you :( He already lost his older brother due to his recklessness, so his biggest fear has to do with you leaving him or dying while he was unable to do anything due to his weaknesses.

O = On Cloud Nine (what are they like when they're in love?)

- Whenever someone mentions you, he gets very flustered and states to fumble on his words. He also ends up cursing a lot, all the while he finds the words to describe how wonderful you are!

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you and why?)

- Doll, Cutie and Sweet cheeks.

- Foll cause he thinks you're as pretty as one. Cutie cause he thinks you're adorable. Sweet Cheeks came from how he often made you flustered, so he started to teasing you for it.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

- He likes to spend alone time with you, but he also enjoys spending some quality time with you and his gang!

R = Romance (how romantic are they? are they creative or cliché?)

- He tries to be romantic! He's not very creative when it comes to romantic gestures, so often times he's more cliché, cause most time he does something romantic that just pulled from a romantic comedy or sumn that he watched a few days back.

- He swears he didn't watch it to try and think of something to wow you nuh uh

S = Support (are they helping you with reaching your goals? do they support you?)

- Hell yes! Mondo is your hype man!! He supports you in everything that you do!

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

- Months. Mondo is quite the tsun, so he'll end up saying something else instead of confessing. Takes a while for him to finally gather what he wants to say

U = Understanding (are they empathetic?)

- He not the most empathetic person, but he tries to be! He's doing his best!!

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

- Damn straight! He shows you off like you're a fine trophy!

W = Wild Card (random headcanon)

- Mondo is a dog person, so dog cafe dates are hella frequent.

X = XOXO (are they very affectionate? do they like to kiss and cuddle?)

- Mondo is a closeted cuddle bug. He loves to kiss and cuddle you, in PRIVATE. In public, that's a bit of a different story since he has a reputation as a biker game leader to uphold.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

- Mondo would take you out for a stroll on his bike, take you to a secluded area where the view is wonderful ang pop the question!

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

- Having you there with him is enough to put him at ease.

- Holding you close to his chest helps as well!

here you go raven!! nsfw alphabet to be done tomorrow cause it's hella late here in my country xD if you want this re-written, i don't mind doing so! this isn't proofread btw so typos and grammar errors mat be spotted here and there :')

do stay safe and healthy! eat your meals, stay hydrated and take rest when needed!

#mondo owada x reader #fluff alphabet #danganronpa x reader #trigger happy havoc x reader #mod mahiru writes #mod mahiru

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reachfolk · 2 years

Note

8. your oc encounters a group of shipwrecked pirates 😈

💛 from ya bestie @korvanjund

✿ tags: my attempt at humor, mildly suggestive because alex is a flirt

❥ word count: 1.4k

✿ summary: while taking a walk along the solitude coastline, alexandria gets captured by a group of brigands looking to keep her for a ransom. she, as usual, sees an opening to have herself some fun.

❥ author’s note: this is literally so dumb but it was hella fun to write. lex is the worst (affectionate). also i proofread this at 5 am so it barely counts. if u see any weird typos or awkward phrasing, no u didn't <3

✿ taglist: @lookathooves

“So how long have you been a kidnapper?”

“Wh—?” Velis turned to his captive, a noblewoman with reddish brown hair and an annoyingly calm disposition who goes by the name Alexandria. “How did you get the gag off?”

“Sleight of hand?”

“Your hands are bound.”

“Sleight of tongue, then,” she said with an exaggerated wink. “Now will you tell me how long you’ve been a kidnapper, or are you one of those dark and stoic sorts?”

“If you must know,” he spat, making extra sure that his irritation showed in hopes of intimidating the noblewoman, “we’re not kidnappers. We’re pirates. Bad storm hit just as we got close to the Solitude coast, now we need a new ship. That’s where your pretty little head and the ransom it can bring us come in.”

Without a care in the world, the woman lit up with excitement. “Pirates! Oh, how fun! Even if you aren’t very good ones. It’s all well, though; you’ve got that roguish, devilishly handsome look that’s just perfect for it.”

The dunmer’s ears stiffened, standing high at those words. “Will you just be kidnapped like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” The woman leaned back, propping her back against the tree trunk behind her. “Your pirate friends are off doing whatever it is pirates do when they aren’t... pirating. We might as well enjoy ourselves, seeing as it’s just us.”

His grip on the weapon strapped to his hip tightened. “You’re not getting me to untie you.” No matter how tempting the reason.

With a suggestive, flirtatious tone, she asked, “Who said anything about untying me?”

It was... a compelling argument. But he was suspicious nonetheless, and frankly, nothing could make him even think of taking off his breeches in the freezing weather of the Haafingar coast. “You’re not the most dignified of noblewomen, you know.”

“No, I suppose not,” she mused. “But admit it, you couldn’t ask for a better hostage.”

“I could ask for a quieter one.”

She gasped in offense, and Velis couldn’t tell if it was a joke or otherwise. “I thought we were bonding!”

“Bonding?” he asked. “You don’t even know my name.”

“Velis, right?”

He blinked. “Y... yes. Good guess.”

“I overheard you talking with that big nord with the funny hat.”

“It is a funny hat, isn’t it?” He said the words in a whisper, as though the captain could overhear them. “Cap’ thinks it makes him look serious and intimidating, but it makes him look like...”

“A giant mushroom!”

“Exactly!”

The pair fell into a fit of giggles at the all too accurate simile.

“Aha! I knew I could break the tough and stoic exterior!” Alexandria said smugly between giggles.

Velis forced the corners of his mouth down and cleared his throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Admit it,” she sang. “I’m your favorite hostage you’ve ever taken. Say it.”

“You’re the only hostage I’ve ever taken.”

The words seemed to intrigue her as she pulled herself to lean forward. “Oh? I’d have assumed a pirate would take hostages regularly.”

He shrugged. “Haven’t been doing it for long. Just been with this crew for a few weeks now.” He realized all too late that he was giving her exactly what she wanted and suddenly felt a strong urge to hit himself over the head with his own mace.

“Oh, that so?” The tone in her voice was intrigued, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d have assumed she genuinely cared. “Do you like it? Minus the wreck, I mean.”

“You always ask this many questions?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said, shamelessly. “You always avoid them?”

“Only the annoying ones.”

“Well, then, this is going to be a very difficult chat for both of us. Someone ought to compromise.”

She shot him a look that told him loud and clear that she had no intention of backing down, and he realized it would only be easier if he gave in. With a heavy sigh, he answered, “No, I don’t like it.”

Seeming satisfied with the turn of events, she pressed on, “Why stay, then?”

Of course she’d ask that. “Do you think people turn to crime because they want to?”

“A lot do,” she said, as if she knew anything about what she spoke of. “But I take it you’re here out of desperation?”

The questions were beginning to get far, far beyond his comfort level. “I’m not answering that.”

“Oh, let me guess!”

“No—”

“You have a sister back home that’s terribly sick and can’t support herself, so you need to support her in every way you can. But finding work is hard, let alone for decent pay, so you turned to petty crime. But it kept escalating, and before you knew it, you were involved in a local smuggling ring. But then, the twist! You—”

“Oh, gods, do you ever shut up?”

She shook her head, a mischievous glint in her eye as she shot him a smile. If he didn’t need her alive, he’d have busted her head with a mace a long while ago.

“It was nothing that noble, is that what you want to hear?” He went on, his frustrations blinding him to what he was doing. “I was at a gambling ring, lost more money than I could afford to, and now I have some people holding it over my head until I pay them back.”

There was a long pause as she thought over the words, then she asked, “Do you fight good?”

“... What?”

He’d asked out of confusion, but she only repeated the question slightly louder. “Do you fight good?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he answered. “Hence why turning to piracy and banditry made the most sense.”

“You know, my family’s looking for bodyguards,” she said. “One of them died in a Forsworn attack on our carriage, so there’s an open spot. Pays handsomely, and something tells me you’d much rather make the money honestly than have to run around with brigands.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying you should sign on as our bodyguard and pay off your debt honestly.”

It was almost funny how easy she thought it was. “I don’t think you realize how much goes into that decision. They’ll want to know if I’m trustworthy, and I'm not giving them any good reasons.”

“And you’ll be seen as plenty trustworthy if you bring me back from the oh-so-awful brigands that tried to kidnap me.” She made a show of swooning and sighing. “My hero.”

Velis only blinked as the words sank in. She... had a point. There were only two others posted at the camp at the moment, both of whom were far by the outskirts, so sneaking her away would be a cinch.

“You’d be willing to trick your own family?”

She shrugged. “It’ll be funny.”

It didn’t sound like a very good reason to do anything, but Velis glanced behind him and saw that the rest of the band of pirates had yet to arrive. It was an easy opening...

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said to himself as he approached, his dagger readied in his hand to cut her bindings off. “You make one move to turn against me, and I slice your throat, got it?”

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” she teased.

He would have responded with a snappy remark or a sharp glare, but he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts racing in his head. There was still a chance she’d betray him and run off on her own, but if this worked out...

His past mistakes have haunted him for years now, one after the other building into a massive tower he couldn’t begin to scale. If this woman, despite all the ways he’s wronged he, would be willing to give him a second chance, he wasn’t about to reject it.

As the bindings came loose, she rolled her sore wrists, then turned to him with the same bright smile she’d been wearing since the beginning. “Lead the way, my knight in—” she eyed him up and down—”studded armor.”

He eyed her curiously, trying to make sense of her, but all he could turn up in the end was, “You’re a strange one.” As he held his hand out to her, she took it in her own gloved one with surprising firmness.

“Now,” he said, “Let’s get you out of here.”

#no bc she 100% wouldve fucked this guy without hesitation #poor girlies advances were rejected but i like to think she got the d another time #cozy writes #cozy is tired now im going back to beddd

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vapid-slut · 4 years

Text

Perfect Harmony; Ch.1

Warning[s]: Swearing, Michael being a dirty bitch

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Entering her senior year as a cheerio, the reader is excited to combine both her love of music and her newfound popularity. To Michael, however, this is the perfect opportunity to fuck with his innocent neighbor

A/N: Can we say, I hate this, because I really do. I have no idea what has compelled me to post this dumpster, just know that if you read this, no u didn’t <3 + I did not proofread this so if theres any typos I’m so sorry, I’m running on 4 hrs of sleep and 5 cups of coffee

Music was your life. Your parents often joked that you were singing before you uttered your first word. Unfortunately, there were no music clubs during your past two years of high school. It was only last year that you and the glee club won nationals, hence why you were able to keep funding. School administration was never really fond of the arts, but they would bend over backward to give the sports clubs whatever they needed.

Your biggest dream was to get a scholarship, preferably for music, since you excelled at it. All your life, you watched your father slave away to keep you happy. You just wanted to repay his kindness. Abruptly, your dream, which entailed you winning a grammy, was disrupted by the ringing of your alarm clock. Your arm stretched over to your nightstand, turning the device off, bringing the sound to a halt.

Slowly, you removed the sheets off your body, standing up for a brief stretch before walking to your bathroom. You went about your morning routine much quicker than you typically would. Mostly due to your excitement, this year would be the first that you spent closer to the top of the social food chain. Over the summer, your dad became fast friends with Coach Sylvester. She had come over a few times. And although their relationship was strictly platonic, they both had grown fond of each other. A week before school, she offered you a spot on the cheerios, one you couldn't turn down. Cheerleaders were at the very top of the pyramid. Girls wanted to be them while boys wanted to be with them.

Once you had finished doing the bare necessities your morning required, you hastily made your way to your closet, immediately reaching for one of the three cheerleading uniforms hanging on the rack. You stripped out of your pajamas before slipping into the skimpy skirt, unaware that you had an admirer. Michael had moved next door a few months into your freshman year, was a rather charming boy. He quickly became a hot commodity, no doubt due to how impeccably handsome he was. You were never too fond of him, but even you had to admit that he was a divine sight.

It never truly bothered you that the window into your room was straight across from the one piercing into his. But if you could see the look of satisfaction on his face as he watched you undress, you'd feel very unnerved. The boy had always felt attracted to you. He saw you as a challenge. You were one of the few students in your grade who was still a virgin. Not due to your looks, you frankly didn't have the time to go to parties or hook up with people. Your focus was on your education. And if getting into a great school meant sacrificing your social life, you were content with that.

Once you had finished getting your uniform on and slicking your hair into a neat updo, you gathered your things into your bag and hurried downstairs for breakfast. "Mornin' kiddo!" Your dad said, greeting you with a smile. You muttered a cheerful 'hey' in response, walking towards one of the cabinets full of cereal boxes. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. My car had to get fixed up last night so, I'll have to take yours today." You shrugged as a reply, not caring. "So am I taking the bus today?" Your father shook his head, reaching for a spoon at the same time. "No. That nice boy next door offered to give you a ride today. Isn't that sweet?"

Fuck- you thought to yourself, of course, the universe found some way to screw up your day. You took a long sigh before shifting your eyes to the clock on the wall. "Shit! I'm sorry, dad. I'd love to eat breakfast, but the Glee meeting starts in 20 minutes." Your dad shrugged, not too bothered. "It's fine, go have fun and tell Michael I said hello." You nodded to your old man, and with that, you were up and out the door.

As soon as you stepped foot outside, there he was. Hair perfectly curled, toothpick dangling from his soft lips. You sighed, walking towards the blonde, waiting for him to get out of the way. "Wow, you become a cheerleader, and now you think you're hot shit?" He spat, you gave him a death glare before pushing him lightly to get inside the car. He followed suit, taking his place in the driver's seat. "As much as I find you annoying, your ass does look great in that skirt." You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the boy as he started driving. "Listen up, Pillsbury fuckboy. Though this might seem hard to understand, I don't like you. And I'd rather not spend my senior year arguing with someone as unbearable as you, so can you please leave me alone?!"

The blonde chuckled at your response. Your mouth said one thing while your thoughts said another. "Your wish is my command." He mumbled sarcastically before reaching to turn up the music on the radio to an obscene volume. The rest of the car ride was entirely uneventful, neither of you uttering a word to each other. Ultimately, you had reached the school parking lot. Not many cars were there since it was early, and only a few clubs were meeting today. Before Michael could do anything, you swiftly got out the car, making sure to slam it loudly. "Don't fucking slam the door!" He said, his voice reaching you even though you were still walking, in response you promptly flipped him off. "Fucking bitch." He uttered lowly as you slowly left his field of view.

-----

"Welcome back, New Directions!" Glee's coach, Mr.Shue, said as you embraced your friends. "As you know, this will be our last year together, and a few of our beloved friends have left for college already. Which means we'll be having auditions for some newcomers." As he spoke, he walked over to the whiteboard, grabbing his trusted magic marker. "But there's a twist." You and everyone else in the room watched as he wrote out the words American Idol. "This time, you'll be judging with me."

You would typically be seated next to Tina and Mercedes, but they were both absent for the meeting. Instead, you sat with Santana on your left and Quinn to your right. You had to admit that it felt nice. Usually, you wouldn't ponder on things so benign. But you had spent most of high school getting teased by Michael and the rest of his sought after friends. Not a day went by that slushies weren't thrown in your face, now you could finally walk the halls without fear of humiliation.

Besides that, you were also really ecstatic to help Mr. Shue with auditions. Glee club was what had brought a group of entirely different people together. So you'd be more than glad to share that with a new ensemble of students before you all went your final ways.

-----

The rest of your day went by quicker than usual. There wasn't much to learn on the first day. Once the clock hit 3:30, You rushed to the auditorium as if your life depended on it. You had to admit that you missed the stage, singing, and dancing with your friends. You made your way the middle of the seating area, taking your place beside Artie.

A majority of the auditions were lackluster. Only a handful stood out. Like that girl Marley and that kid Jake. You were just about ready to leave and go home until something caught your attention. "Michael Langdon?" Your eyes lit up immediately as you heard the name. You watched as the blue-eyed boy made his way to the stage, smug look on his face.

There was no way in hell Michael fucking Langdon, the same boy who referred to glee as "homo explosion," would ever willingly audition. His rendition of "Suit and Tie" was incredible, which only pissed you off more. Not only was he insanely attractive, but he just had to be talented too, fucking men.

You watched as your fellow glee members watched in amusement. It was the girls who seemed most excited. Eventually, it all became too much, and before the boy could finish entertaining your friends, you stormed off into the parking lot. Far too upset with the blonde to drive home with him, you sent your friend Mike a text asking if he could get you. He lived pretty close to the school, so you knew it would only take a few minutes.

-----

By the time Mike had pulled up to the building, the other glee kids were exiting. You quickly reached for the door of his car, rushing to get to the passenger seat. "You alright?" He asked, worried by how fidgety you were. You nodded. "Yea, I just wanna go home." Mike was always very comforting. The two of you became friends during your freshman year, mostly because of how many classes you shared. You both had a love for music and were smart, so it wasn't long before you two clicked.

Within a few minutes, you had arrived at your house, Mike flashing you a smile. "Thank you for coming to get me. It means a lot." The dark-haired boy shrugged. "It's no biggie, see you tomorrow, cheerio." You rolled your eyes sarcastically. "Whatever, jock-face." And with that, you entered your home.

The house was currently empty. He was taking the night shift at the hospital so, he probably wouldn't come back till late at night. You walked up the stairs to your room, dropping your bag on the floor. After everything that had gone down today, you were exhausted. You quickly took off the scanty cheer uniform and slipped on your much softer penguin pajamas.

You practically threw yourself on the bed, hoping to get some rest, but were promptly distracted by a notification on your phone. The text, from an unknown number nonetheless, read 'look outside your window.' You quickly sat up, confused, and turned your head only for your eyes to be met by Michael Langdon, who just happened to be balls deep inside some random brunette.

You gave the boy a disgusted look before pulling down your blinds. Never in your life had you been more repulsed. Your mind tried long and hard to block out any memory of what you just witnessed. After around forty-five minutes, you received another text message from non-other than Michael.

'It's a shame you missed my performance."

'Go fuck yourself, Langdon.'

'If you say so ;)'

The rest of the night, you wondered what you had done to be the new subject of Mr. Pillsbury Fuckboys torment. You had spent most of your high school years avoiding him at cost. Suddenly it seemed like you weren't getting rid of him anytime soon. You were just lucky you only had to endure this for a few more months, and then you'd be on your way.

Or so you thought.

#Hawthorn!Michael x Reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdong imagine #michael langdon smut #michael langdon blurb #michael langdon

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saltedsour · 3 years

Text

tutorial level lore (for real)

i didnt proofread this after 1.75 hours of typing and that's your fault because i said so

expect typos and nonsense

CORRUPTED:

everybody forgets about him like wtf,,,.???? i swear everybody just goes "HIIIII IM SO HAPPY ALL FOUR OF US ARE HERE" "please i'm right here"

playlist mode also forgot about him 😢

to be fair i forgot about them until right as i started typing

also needs a hug. actually fuck that they all need a hug

the,,, the shortest,,... i i cannot..... they're short oh my gosh

probably one of those wiggly cactus fucks but like angry at everything

also the youngest out of all of em.... babeyyyyyyyy...

110% has a cool scarf i mean come on guys

ok to differentiate between corruption and this fucker's name i'm gonna give him a capital C at the start

tbh they all have that certain vibe that i can't explain rn rn but corrupted and blixer the most so uhhhhhh they vibe together share a vibe yeah

unironically dabs

probably the less focused on MURDERING spicy player shapes

"Okay look ASSHOLES I was the first out all of us to be pink so y'all should really treat me with more respect" they don't

has the best song and ill fight you over that

would look rlly cool if they were like....... not Corrupted just not them

glares at chronos every time he says wink out loud.

his last name's probably kyle

CHRONOS:

doesnt have a face anymore. it's a clock now.

NO his face doesn't mostly tell the time accurately and that pisses logic off the most.

ironically dabs

maybe the tallest but maybe logic's taller i haven't rlly decided yet ok ok

he cant right now he's dunking his bible in milk

rlly wants to eat food sometimes so he just yeets like fucking corn flakes at his face. milky ways also sometimes yeets corn flakes at his face.

"Wowwwww you guys have FACES??? smh."

maybe believes the world is flat

types for 20 minutes after you insult him online

would set fire to the tree of life and watch every second of them burning

the tree's probably fireproof tho and like i don't think fighting the fucking shape goddess went well last time??? didn't it??? now u dont have to worry abt getting ur face hurt that's for sure

Probably part enderman at this point like what the fuck how did you get out of that locked room???? You just see him fucking leave out of another room like OK CHRONOS

says wink out loud

does the most jobs for the tree (outside of what they all usually do)

what they're supposed to do (teach those spicy player shapes to not die) isn't what they actually do now (try to kill spicy player shapes unless they're good enough to not die and get the fuck out of there!!!)

Genuinely misses having a face.

MILKY WAYS:

she has the most braincells. and eyes. three eyes. (and three braincells)

second shortest,!!! will fight you

probably the most reliable at reading anything

"okay guys it's been fun but i'm going to space now" *walks out of the room*

probably would be like rlly competitive in video games and like whenever they suddenly win when you were about to win you hear them gleefully cackling thats actually rlly wholesome wtf me

"guys is the world flat yes or no" "does my life depend on the answer???" "YES. YES IT DOES, CHRONOS." "uuuuuuuHHhhHHhhHh"

probably added megalovania to the group's playlist (if they had one.................)

the tree of life definitely once yeeted the fucker she just grabbed her fucking face and went YEET!!!!! no idea why but that 100% happened

played minecraft and left a review saying there wasn't enough squares

fought Corrupted and won

"i'm gonna munch. i'm gonna crunch" just steals somebody's fucking c h i p s and SPRINTS away

strong shitpost energy tbh??

doesn't know the difference between astronomy or astrology

nobody can see any stars™️ where they live and she rlly wants to see stars™️ (it's her aesthetic ok) (smh) (you wouldn't get it)

they might just be in the fuckign void thats not rlly an aesthetic

LOGIC GATEKEEPER:

doesn't understand most memes tbh

YAAYYYYYY SECOND TALLEST.... or NOT!!!!!!!!!!

"guys ur not being logical....... 💔"

would whisper wikipedia articles to you <3

i'd say they could do the best maths out of everybody but rlly i dont trust them with 1 + 1

unironically would type like... this... sometimes...

"guys why are you awake it's like 3 am" "shut the fuck up logic we're eating stolen c h i p s"

probably has rlly cool legs (i forgot to delete this but now i'm kinda liking what me 10 minutes ago said)

they maybe broke 1 law but it was just one of the laws of reality (like a fucking nerd smh)

T-poses regularly to assert dominance over the three shorter peasants.

actually the only one that still likes the tree of life. "GUYS GUYS SHE'S COOL WTF???" "logic please she fucking deleted my face"

fought Corrupted once and lost

favourite flavour drink is water

everybody probably calls them logic because saying three more syllables is just too hard

BLIXER. THAT FUCK:

angry!!

also dabs but maybe???? ironically (he doesn't know either anymore)

wtf he's directly middle height to everybody (bht he's taller than everybody in that stinky new game form though so good for him)

punches stuff!!!!!

"guys where are my c h i p s"

he has a pupil but only sometimes for no reason

probably went into the tutorial gang like wayyyy after everybody else so he's the new shape™️

"hey guys check out this neat selfie" he just shows them an image of sans

kinda "died" but he actually just took over the world

the tree of life also tells everybody what they need to know rn rn so like she just went "heyyy yeah he died 😭 have fun guys" and went off to go be mean to him for like. ever.

he is a cat. he will never forget that. everybody keeps reminding him plEASE GUYS

ahhhhhhhhhh!! water scary

types for a fucking hour if you insult him online

rlly needs a hug

tired 24/7

probably wears a hoodie. all the time. even in the summer.

most focused on spicy player shape murder.

#long post #jsab #just shapes and beats #this is honestly where i peak at with comedy tbh

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monimmortal · 3 years

Text

My Immortal is the quintessential piece of bad fanfiction, a story so notorious that the very concept of badfic immediately brings up mention of it in virtually any circle. Much like a discussion about bad movies inevitably breaks down into someone screaming quotes from The Room into the middle distance in a terrible impression of an even worse accent, My Immortal is a guarantee whenever bad fanfiction comes up. It’s risen above the entry-level masterworks like My Inner Life and “the Goku/Anne Frank” fic, and with its sheer fame completely obscured the deep cuts of a 4 AM fanfiction.net binge where you learn things about yourself that you were much better off not knowing. Regardless of a person’s fandom or even how into fanfic they are, they understand the story to be the utter distillation of everything terrible about fanfic. There is something for everyone, whether the dark specter of a writer’s own teenage shames or something to cackle quotes from and spiral off into dramatic readings of. No fanfic has ever united people across barriers of fandom so easily.

And it’s all a lie.

Several months ago, I wrote a rather long-winded explanation of how My Immortal is not the creation of a teenage girl embodying the very worst in fanfic writers, but in fact the most masterfully-constructed piece of troll fiction ever conceived, which has, for going on nine years, managed to fool the internet at large into believing it completely genuine. But I was left unsatisfied with the initial result, which didn’t delve as deep as I would have liked into the points it raised, and missed quite a few important parts. So I’m making a second pass on the, hopefully concisely enough that I don’t need to make a third, because after writing a second essay about My Immortal, heaven knows I’m miserable now.

Special thanks to oisiflaneur for proofreading this 14,000+ word monster.

Preamble: People Who Are Young And Alive

For the purposes of best understanding everything I’m about to talk about, I suggest going and reading My Immortal first. ‘Context’ might not be the best way to explain what you’ll get by knowing what I’m referring to, but familiarity with the source material will make this a much easier read. Due to it having been long-since purged from fanfiction.net, you can find it reposted across the internet, in particular here. It is quite a read and I greatly reccomend it, although I do so as somebody who has read through countless times and liked it enough to write thousands upon thousands of words about it.

However, it’s certainly not an easy read for some people due to its clusterfuck of misspellings and incomprehensibility, so in addition to the quotes and excerpts I will provide to illustrate my points, I will briefly give a quick rundown of the major players in our tale.

Our heroine, Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way’s own words sum up her existence better than I ever could:

Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

This paragraph is the first of the story, and it is also the longest of the story, saying so much and yet so little about our protagonist. We know almost nothing of the personality that she is alleged to possess, but we do know that she wishes to be familially related to Gerard Way because she finds him attractive, and presumably has an incest kink that will never be touched upon again in the story. The rest of this thesis will touch on all of the other woeful elements of this monstrous violation of ‘show, don’t tell’, but now you have the definitive look at who and what Ebony is.

Ebony is in love with Draco Malfoy, who save for a few minor elements remains largely unchanged in My Immortal. The same cannot be said for Harry “Vampire” Potter;

In the Great Hall, I ate some Count Chocula cereal with blood instead of milk, and a glass of red blood. Suddenly someone bumped into me. All the blood spilled over my top.

“Bastard!” I shouted angrily. I regretted saying it when I looked up cause I was looking into the pale white face of a gothic boy with spiky black hair with red streaks in it. He was wearing so much eyeliner that I was going down his face and he was wearing black lipstick. He didn’t have glasses anymore and now he was wearing red contact lenses just like Draco’s and there was no scar on his forhead anymore. He had a manly stubble on his chin. He had a sexy English accent. He looked exactly like Joel Madden. He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I’m a girl so I didn’t get one you sicko.

If nothing else, it’s certainly a nice change from the usual traits about his mother’s eyes and taped-up glasses. In this story, Harry goes by ‘Vampire’; he used to date Draco Malfoy and they got tattoos with each others’ names, he is gothic and now part of Slytherin for reasons never elaborated upon – these two traits go hand-in-hand for every character in the story– and resembles the lead singer of Good Charlotte for some reason. Thankfully, our author also notes that the character who was born, raised, and lives his entire life in Great Britain happens to have a “sexy English accent”.

“Satan” is the name that Tom Riddle went by when he was a Hogwarts student. In the 1980s. And gothic. We’ll touch on him a little later. There’s a lot of trainwreck going on here, in case you haven’t noticed.

The two meta players to what is one of the greatest internet performance art pieces ever created are our author Tara Gilesbie, and her best friend/beta reader Raven, noted in the story by her own self-insert Willow. I have a lot to say about these two, who are characters in their own ways and who the understanding of is vital to seeing My Immortal as something greater than it appears to be. Tara is a budding teenage writer, Harry Potter, and goth, who doesn’t like that people keep ‘flassing’ her story and threatens self-mutilation as retribution for it, because if there is one thing the mid-2000s internet was, it was caring and serious about such issues. She plays it rather loose with things like literary devices or the English language, as we shall see.

Part 1: Bigmouth Strikes Again – Matters of “Da Story and Spelling”

Upon reading My Immortal for the first time, one of the most egregious and clear issues with the story lies within the spelling and grammar: they’re fucking abysmal. You can see it in the author’s notes right away, and it slowly trickles into the story itself. It starts with ridiculous run-on sentences that seem more like lists than the placement of words into a coherent and complete thought, delivered in a halting and completely jarring cadence. Allegedly, Tara’s friend Raven is editing the story until chapter 15 – more on her later – but even under her tenure as beta, little slips become more frequent. The job of trying to edit something so terrible would certainly be taxing and likely require intensive rewrites of whole chapters at a time, and it’s understandable that perhaps someone would simply be past the point of being able to handle this, and would get sloppier in their job. Chapter eleven, where the author’s note explicitly stated Raven helped, contains of the most infamous and brilliant mistakes in the entire work; ‘Loopin’ 'masticating’.

Once Raven leaves as Tara’s editor, the story nosedives even further into a death spiral of spelling and grammar. Typos become common and any lip service paid to writing words out fully is discarded. Without a beta, we see the depths of Tara’s unfettered lack of shits given for her story to come off as anything resembling presentable. And it needs to be this way, because one of the hallmarks of bad fanfiction is being incomprehensible. Not quite as much as it once was in the days before My Immortal shook the scene up, but it’s a clear indicator of the writer being unprincipled and very young, which are all vital to the character of Tara. The story needs to be poorly written, because if it isn’t, a site like fanfiction.net which, let’s be honest, doesn’t have very high standards–or really any at all–won’t react with all the venom and vitriol the story is meant to induce. It would merely fly under the radar as another mediocre story in the ever-swelling Harry Potter section, which even years after the fandom has cooled off, still moves faster than any person can possibly read through completely. That’s why the author’s notes are so terribly formatted; the very first thing a reader will see upon opening the story is, “Special fangz (get it, coz Im goffik)”.

And it is that word 'goffik’, my darlings, that marks the first place in My Immortal where Tonstant Weader fwowed up.

Everyone who types regularly can see certain little flubs and bad habits develop in their words; muscle memory kicking them in the ass and accidentally writing an incredibly similar word, or having some consistent errors that come through very clearly. And she does have a few, such as “jacket” as “jackson” (chapters 26, 37, 41, 42) and “converse” as “congress shoes” (chapters 24, 39, 41, 42), but they are few and far between in a dizzying array of random misspellings as chaotic as the story itself. They’re just layered beneath what is already a no-shits-given typing style that was back then incredibly commonplace within the subculture presented in the story, but they can be made out clearly if looked for beyond using Z in place of S or 'da’ for 'the’.

The easiest case to make in this regard is with names. Nobody has their names consistently spelled correctly, but they aren’t even consistent in their incorrectness. Our main character, Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, is referred to as Enoby, Enony, Egogy, TaEbory, Ebony, and Evony, among others. Hagrid’s name is spelled correctly a grand total of zero times, but can be noticed as Hargrid, Hairgird, HAHRID, Hargirid, etc. Is her boyfriend Draco, or is he Drako, Darko, or Drago? Voldemort has almost as many misspellings as he does appearances; Volfemort, Vlodemort, Volxemort, Voldemint, Volremot, and Darth Valer, to name a few. Sirius Black becomes Serifs, Series, Sodomize, Socrates, and my personal favorite, Spartacus. Professor Slutgorn, Cornelia Fuck, Dumblewhore, Preacher McGongal are also highlights.

But there’s perhaps too much convenience in how words become other words so easily. From Loopin’s mastication and the pointing of his womb, to being sent not to Azkaban but to Azerbaijan, to recording a sex tape on a caramel, to Dracon being hung like a Stallone, the story is littered with mistakes that seem almost too good to be true. Not all of this can be explained away as just a stray finger. Some of them defy keyboard logic in how they came to be, and somebody who could be that sloppy with a keyboard would be incapable of making sentences that could even be pieced together by someone intent on understanding what was meant by them, which as it stands is already how much of My Immortal is written. Sort of like Finnegan’s Wake, except the analysis of it is performed by significantly sadder people.

Matters like Azerbaijan and caramel might be explained away by spellcheck, if there was even the slightest evidence that Tara spellchecked any of this. It’s very, very apparent that she didn’t, because these passages are surrounded by misspellings that have gone unedited and unfixed, which means that she had to type out these words to the full extent manually.

Could it be some kind of celestial alignment that leads to there being so many absolutely perfect typos? It could be. But I believe that the typos not in fact the meanderings of someone who doesn’t care, but in fact a labour of love from someone who cares far, far too much. Poor typing habits and a lack of care for what’s being put down are hallmarks of bad writing, and My Immortal strives to push it to heights that become almost impossible for an actual human being to accidentally make. Words are put into the story that aren’t even in the same neighborhood as the ones they’re supposed to be, and names steadily spin out of control in ever-escalating insanity like a Fibonacci sequence from hell.

In the chapter 4 author’s note, Tara notes “her name is ENOBY nut mary su ok!” In chapter 12, hot off the heels of Loopin masticating is the line, “Who MASTABATED (c is dat speld rong) to it he added silently.” What are the odds that she misspells the words on the two occasions where it matters most? In particular the latter one, where you’d think she would bother looking the word back over first to make sure it wasn’t, in fact, misspelled. Raven doesn’t pick up on it either, even though as we’ll see later she is most certainly capable of spelling words properly. It highlights the character of Tara’s hubris and incompetence, that she points out that she spelled a word correctly when she in fact had not. Someone who cares enough to show up the haters mid-story, but not enough to make sure they’re actually doing so.

Accompanying the more clearly intentional mistakes is the steady clumsiness that grows with the word count. Misspellings become more prevalent and less attention is put into trying to look like words, and while the tipping point is certainly Raven rescinding her service as an editor, it’s also a measured and slow degradation. We’ll go over this in more detail in part eight, but it is rather damning that the story doesn’t just plummet right through the floor once Raven isn’t working on making it presentable, as it reasonably should. Instead, it s a careful and measured breakdown. For comparison’s sake, let’s take the opening of chapter 15, which is the final Raven-edited chapter before the breakup:

“Ebony Ebony!” shouted Draco sadly. “No, please, come back!”

But I was too mad.

“Whatever! Now u can go anh have sex with Vampire!” I shouted. I stormed into my room and closed my black door with my blood-red key. It had a picture of Marylin Manson on it. He looked so sexy in a way that reminded me of Draco and Vampire. I started to cry and weep. I took a razor and started to slit my wrists. I drank the blood all depressed. Then I looked at my black GC watch and noticed it was time to go to Biology class.

And chapter 16, where their relationship reaches its peak and Raven has left as editor:

We ran happily to Hogsmede. There we saw the stage where GC had played. We ran in happly. MCR were there playing ‘Helena’. I was so fucking happy! Gerard looked even sexier than he did in da pictures. Even Draco thought so, I could totally see him getting an erection but it didn’t matter cuz I knew know that we were da only true ones for eachother. I was wearing a black leather minidress and black leather platinum boots with red ripped fishnets. Draco was wearing a black baggy MCR t-shirt and black baggy pants. Anyway, we stated moshing to Helena. We frenched. We ran up 2 the front of the band to stage-dive. Suddenly, Gerard pulled off his mask. So did the others. We gasped. It wasn’t them at all. It was.,……………………….. Volsemort and da Death Dealers

There are certainly a few more typos in this sample, and we see 'da’ and 'cuz’ slip through without Raven’s guidance, but overall they don’t seem too far apart. 'Volsemort’ is the only thing that is clearly down to a typo rather than laziness. But let’s jump into Morty McFli’s “tim machine” and see how chapter 26 opens:

A few mutates later Vampire came 2 da tree. He was wearing a blak leather jackson, black leather pants and a Good Chralotte t-shirt.

“Hi Vampire.” I said flirtily as I started to sob. Draco hugged me sexily tryont to comfrot me. I started to cry tears of blood and then told them what happened.

“Oh fuck it!” Vampire shouted angrily. He4 started to cry sadly. “What fucking dick did that!”

“I don’t know.” I said. “Now come on we have 2 tell Dumbledor.”

We ran out of the tree and in2 da castle. Dumblydor was sitting in his office.

“Sire are dads have been shot!” Draco said while we wipped sum tears from his white face. “Enoby had a vision in a dreem.”

Dubleodre started to cockle. “Hahahaha! And How due u aspect me to know Ebony’s not divisional?

It’s night and fucking day. Raven’s presence was clearly not the only thing keeping Tara’s spelling in check, because she started off just fine without her, but somewhere along the next ten chapters clearly lost her way. But hey, just for comparison’s sake, let’s see if ten more chapters supports my claim. Chapter 36:

I loked around in a depresed way. Suddenly I saw Profesor Sinister. B’lody Mary, Socrates and Draco, Vampire and Willow were their to.

“OMFG Sorius I saw u nd Samaro and Snip nd everyone!11111 I kant beleev Snap uzd 2 b goffik!111111”

“Yah I no.” Serious said sadly.

“Oh hey there bitch.” Profesor Trevolry said in an emo voice dirnking some Volxemortserom.

Hi fuker.” I said. “Lizzen, Satan asked me out to a gottik cornet and a movie so I need a sexah new outfit for da date. Also I’m playng in a gothic band so I need an ootfit for that too.”

“Oh my satan!1” (geddit lolz koz shes gofik) gasped B’lody Mary. “Want 2 go to Hot Topik to shop 4 ur outfit?”

“OMFS, letz have a groop kutting session!11” said Profesor Trevolry.

“I can’t fucking wait 4 dat but we need 2 get sum stuff first.” said Willow.

“Yah we need sum portions for Profesor Trevolry so she wont be adikted 2 Volxemortserum anymore nd also………….sum luv potion 4 Enoby.” Darko said resultantly.

It’s almost difficult to believe they’re from the same story we saw twenty chapters ago, and it’s sure as hell not because Tara has improved her craft. Within the confines of the story itself, it seems so gradual that you might not even realize it, but laid out in chunks like that, can you really say it’s not someone trying their best to destroy as many words as they possibly can?

Part 2: It’s Gruesome That Someone So Handsome Should Care – Matters of Identity and “Goffikness”

At the very core of My Immortal is what Tara believes being a goth to be. From the very first sentence of the first author’s note we learn this fact, and the first paragraph in the story, which is also the longest, is devoted to showing that Ebony is as well. Whether or not one is a goth becomes the most important character trait for the entire cast and defines their relationships with one another. Throughout the story, we are regaled with all the evidence of band fandom and other ultimately superficial traits that assure us that these characters are indeed true goths. The only things that receive anything approaching description are the clothes Ebony wears, all black and leather and band t-shirts. Nothing matters more than being a goth.

In this strange world, Ebony’s lifestyle is supported in ways that are beyond belief. Merchandising is so invasively ever-present that you can buy just about anything branded with her interests. In chapter 38, Satan smokes a Nightmare Before Christmas cigar (over a decade before The Nightmare Before Christmas came out), capes can bear Avril Lavigne’s face on them without anyone raising an eyebrow, and cars have pentagram decals all over them. Although band t-shirts are perfectly normal – and if I’m anything to go by, having pretty much nothing but band shirts isn’t unheard of – Ebony also has a wide range of band-branded everything, like skirts that have 'Simple Plan’ written across her ass.

Ebony looks like Amy Lee, and any boy she thinks is attractive will invariably be compared to the lead members of bands she likes, because those positive associations are marks of her dedication.

In the world of My Immortal, being a goth or a prep is not down to musical choices and circles of friends, but instead a sweeping statement about where you fall in matters of good and evil. Everyone she approves of fits her lifestyle whether it makes sense for the character to or not, radically changing their personalities to fall into the box she wants them to. The Golden Trio, alongside Ginny and Neville all goth up and convert to Slytherin, because as the 'dark’ house it is the only logical place for goths to go be. She does not have any friends who aren’t goths, because to not be a goth is to a prep, and preps are evil. Preps have middle fingers put up at them when they do nothing wrong, because on mere principle they must be hated and despised.

Which forms one of the many problems with the plot, but one that is not specific to the madness of Tara Gilesbie. At almost no point do characters coded as preps actually do anything wrong. Britney is consistently insulted and called a 'fucking prep’ in every appearance she has as though 'prep’ is an earth-shattering slur. Her presence consists entirely of being in a room, sometimes with middle fingers put up at her, and in one case, singled out by Professor Trevolry to do extra homework, because Trevolry is a goff teacher, which means she punishes preps for being preps. The only time Britney does anything wrong is in the final chapter, when it’s revealed that she released Snap and Loopin from Azerbaijan.

Britney is also the only actually preppy character in the story. We know this because she wears pink and little else, due to the lack of dialogue or character shown. But other people are referred to as preps constantly, including Snoop, Lumpkin, and Valmont. As are everyone who criticizes the story. We receive no indication for these, and often they are completely baffling for how decidedly un-preppy these characters truly are, but it’s vital to the narrative and the division of the cast that everyone Ebony does not approve of is a prep.

It’s not an uncommon attitude among teenagers, especially those with interest or belonging to subcultures out of the approved mainstream, to draw lines and assume everyone who falls into divisions other than them are inherently opposed to them. The idea that anyone who isn’t different must assume that difference is bad is so pervasive that it often comes to define works of fiction taking place in high school, even when written by grown-ass adults, because it provides cheap and easy conflict. Most teenagers grow fairly quickly out of this, but because of its convenience as a device, it persists. Tara is far from the only person to ever believe this, but the degree to which she takes it is a little further than most do, lumping the world into only two categories, but defining 'them’ as a one-dimensional army of preps even when they’re the opposite of preppy.

Which makes it an incredibly mockable and therefore desirable angle to write her plot through, doesn’t it?

Once again setting herself up for incredible failure is the fact that she’s completely off the fucking mark about what a goth is. With favorite bands ranging from My Chemical Romance, Evanessence, and Linkin Park, to a bizarre interest in pop punk through Simple Plan and Good Charlotte, her taste in goth music is a lot like her taste in klezmer; it doesn’t fucking exist. This is not the musical taste of a broody, dark goth, it’s the stock standard taste of a teenaged rock fan in 2006, which is exactly what it’s supposed to be. To believe this is all to be pure, gothic music is to be so disconnected from the entire concept of the goth subculture that Tara would have to have not even given it a cursory Googling to discover what sort of music goths listened to.

This 2006; 'emo’ was already a word so pervasive that it was insufferable, but had TaEbory identified as emo, she would have lost one vital piece of the puzzle. Merely being wrong or incredibly forward about one’s identity isn’t enough; she had to be both simultaneously. Her fervid defense of what it is to be a goth, paired with being so off the mark, turns her into a hypocrite and a fool, a strawman whose every word is only making worse her whole case. It makes her stand out as a special and egregious case, an author so wrong about everything and whose self-insert only looks worse off for it. And this is how My Immortal rose to the top of an ocean of mediocre, bad, and downright terrible fanfiction.

Dubious musical categorizations aside, another element of the gothicness that pervades the story is authenticity. Among the more snobbish and elitist of any subculture since the beginning of time, the desire to be seen as authentic and real is an incredibly pervasive element that My Immortal predictably lingers on quite heavily. “Poser” is a word loaded with as much venom as prep is, because in the false dichotomy Tara instills upon the world, to have airs of goffikness while not truly being a goff is just as evil as wearing pink is. Perhaps even more so, because these fakers are infiltrating her circles. When Tara and Raven cease being friends, Raven’s stand-in Willow is referred to as a poser. When Draco feels betrayed upon discovering that Voldemort has tasked Ebony with killing Vampire, he refers to her as a “poser muggle bitch”.

While we can’t hold My Immortal to a rigid understanding of proper Harry Potter canon, it does explain a lot about Tara’s worldview. Draco Malfoy has spent his whole life of privilege being taught about the importance of blood purity by his parents, who — we’re all adults here, right? We can accept this? — are fucking wizard nazis. A lot of his early character is specifically centered around his beliefs on blood purity and his use of slurs like 'mudblood’ toward Hermione and dismissals of families like the Weasleys as blood traitors. Such traits are so surface level and blatant that even someone like Tara could pick up on them, which makes the inclusion of 'poser’ in his insult, a triple threat along with fantastical racism and straight-up sexism, into something very telling about just how important it is in her version of the Harry Potter universe to be seen as genuine.

You can’t simply become a goth, you have to already be one. You have to shop at the 'real goth stores’, which are known only to goths. Any attempt to learn of them is met with derision, because goffikness is not something you can attain, except for all the characters who are noted in their new backstories to have become goffs in their transfers over to Slytherin.

Simmering underneath this obsession with being seen as authentic, with a narrative that constantly asserts with very insecure undertones just how much Tara wants to be seen as a real goth, is how shallow her interests really are. She prattles off lists of the clothing she and her friends wear like she’s Patrick Bateman, a laundry list whose obsessive detail forms the only proper description anything in the story receives. And much like in American Psycho, the narrator’s obsession with clothes comes off as remarkably phony, a desire to fit in with a group they desire to be a part of through a series of checklist points, although while Patrick Bateman is deranged within the narrative, you must go one level of abstraction away from the character’s portrayal in the universe, to look on a metafictional level into the delusions of Tara to see where she gets it all so wrong.

We’re told in the narrative that Ebony is depressed and suicidal time and again, but despite slitting her wrists in lieu of an afternoon snack, we never truly see actual depression. She uses 'depressed’ in ways that don’t really make sense, such as to describe the movie Corpse Bride, coloured contact lenses, and makeout sessions. Chapter three even contains the passage, “'Hi Draco!’ I said in a depressed voice.” Given how wonderfully the entire world caters to Ebony and the fact Tara seems to not really understand what it means, it comes off not like Ebony is a character that actually has depression, but instead that since depression is gothic, she must therefore possess it. She isn’t somebody who wears black on the outside because black is how she feels on the inside, she just says she’s depressed because it’s all a part of the goth package.

As is Satanism, which Ebony is apparently an adherent of. Much like being depressed, a vampire, listening to Simple Plan, and being a Slytherin, it is vital to the gothic identity that you are a Satanist, even if you don’t know what Satanism is. That you sometimes refuse to acknowledge the words 'cross’ and 'god’. It’s so casually mentioned and without even the slightest bit of conviction that it feels thrown in by someone who doesn’t really care, but, once again, wants to fit in.

The end result is an all-encompassing, story ruining obsession with ensuring the reader know and believe that Ebony–and by extension the author she is an avatar of–is the most true and devout goth in the world. Setting herself up to be so very, very wrong on this account is an easy way to discredit Tara and add another layer of pure mockability to the story. She is truly the greatest poser of all, and her entire worldview comes crumbling down around her under the slightest scrutiny, all by design.

Part 3: Just a Miserable Lie – The Impossible Mistakes

This news may shock and surprise you, so make sure you are very securely strapped your seat.

My Immortal is not entirely consistent.

Certain little things creep out of the woodwork in both the narrative and off to the side, hidden amid all of the craziness around them, that I believe are little winks at the camera on the part of the author. Hints meant to clue you in as to the fact that this whole thing is, in fact, one big joke. A lot of them have gone rather unnoticed, it seems, but let’s start with the most noticeable of all.

In chapter 31, we meet Tom Bombadil. I’m not fucking with you, here, it really does happen.

Suddenly I was in fornt of teh School. In front of me wuz one of da sexiest goth guyz I had ever seen. He was wering long blak hair, kinda like Mikey Way only black. He had gren eyes like Billie Joe Amstrung and pale whit skin. He wuz wearing a blak ripped up suit wif Vans. It was…………………….Tom Bombodil!1

Now, some of you may be asking who the balls Tom Bombadil is, and that is my point entirely. Deep in the first half of Fellowship of the Ring is god of the forest and walking filler arc Tom Bombadil, whose three-chapter appearance leaves most readers wishing for a violent end to existence for how long it all drags. For the express reason that his appearance is so incredibly pointless, he appears in no major adaptations of the series, which means for Tara to know about him, she’d have to read Fellowship of the Ring, a book that is done no favours by Tolkein’s incredibly dry and long writing style, not to mention an entire chapter chronicling the genealogy of Hobbiton.

To be a teenager at a reading level high enough to tackle Tolkein precludes you from being capable of doing something like My Immortal genuinely. Tara would know how words are spelled and that, hey, stories are considerably better when you give a quarter of a crap about typing them properly. The levels of literacy involved in Tom Bombadil and writing My Immortal are so far removed that these two traits are mutually exclusive, impossible for Tara to possess if she’s genuine. After all,

I dntn red all da boox! dis is frum da movie ok so itz nut my folt if dumbeldor swers!

But wait.

Among the many baffling changes Tara makes to the canon, one of the weirdest and most damning to me is Professor Sinister/Trevolry/Sinatra/Siniater/Relory. This bizarre composite of professors Sinistra and Trelawny is a half-vampire, half-Japanese goff, and the only teacher in the school Ebony likes, because she dresses like her and assigns the preps extra homework, complete with a pun about doing an 'exorcise’ in the book. Her presence is bizarre, for being the only positive authority figure in the story, and for the utter perplexity involved in picking the two professors as a composite goth character at the expense of more conventional fanfic fodder like Snape and Lupin, who are both obviously villainous preps in this story.

Professor Trelawny is a strange choice whose incongruity I feel is another one of those expectation-defying twists meant to seem strange as an indicator to the audience where a more mainstream and believable choice would have been to romanticize Snape as so much of the fandom has, but the real headscratcher is Professor Sinistra. Her presence in the canon is entirely off-screen, mentioned by Hermione as a teacher for a course that Ron and Harry don’t take; she has no lines or purpose anywhere, and even in the movies is only a background character identified by virtue of there being an actress credited as her. Her absolute lack of lines makes her presence here troubling, because if Ebony’s reference base for this is the movies, where this dialogueless character coming from?

Of course, there’s also the aspect of how fluidly she switches between names bastardized off of the two professors which, unlike the matter of Hagrid being Cedric but not really, is so consistent and ever-present that it again seems like a level of sloppiness entirely beyond human capability. Two completely disparate names that are way too far removed to be keyboard fuckery, with bastardizations of both used in each scene she appears as though there is a quota on how many of each get used in a chapter for full effect. Because there absolutely is; here’s the introduction of the professor in chapter 24:

Well we had Deviation next so I got to ask Proffessor Trevolry about the visions.

“Konnichiwa everybody come in.” said Proffesor Sinister in Japanese. She smelled at me with her gothic black lipstick. She’s da coolest fucking teacher ever. She had long dead black hair with blood red tips and red eyes. (hr mom woz a vampire. She’s also haf Japanese so she speaks it and everyfing. she n b’loody mry get along grate) She’s really young for a teacher. 2day she was wearing a black leather top with red lace and a long goffik black ripped dress. We went inside the black classroom with pastors of Emily the Strong. I raced my hand. I was wearing some black naie Polish with red pentagrams on it.

In the tweet-sized morcel from “well” to “Japanese”, Tara has already methodically sank this character’s introduction, making someone paying even the slightest attention to what’s in front of them look back up to that previous line to see if they lost something somewhere. Trevolry is used to refer to her next, and then Sinister again, which are the only four mentions of this character in the chapter. Tara’s handle on the chaos of her own story is perfect, and the entire existence of the professor in this chapter serves as a massive wink to the camera.

Also a strange decision is to note that Professor Sinister and B'loody Mary “get along grate”. They don’t interact, as is expected from a narrative that marginalizes everybody except for Ebony and her love interests, relegating all of the friends to satellite roles where they interact only with her, but it’s perplexing for the way it’s made note of out of nowhere. I feel it goes beyond a strange decision to include more female friendships in the background of her story, and serves as a one-two punch of running afoul of “show, don’t tell” and of the canon itself, as in the original series the teacher that Hermione clashes with the most, to the point of dropping the class altogether, is Professor Trelawny. And yet here they are, besties in gothhood. Another subtle note that indicates how carefully woven this entire mess is.

For someone with the reading comprehension of a microwave-made baked potato though, she has an oddly prescient view on the series endgame in chapter 42’s author’s note.

AN: omg da new book iz kumming out rlly soon I kant wait!!!1111. I fink dat snap will be really the same person as Volximort koz dey are both haff-blood so dat will explain y he kild dumblydore and he hated hairy!!!!!1111 nd den hairy wil have 2 kommit suicide so voldimort will die koz he will rilly be a horcrox!!!!!111

On one hand, the idea that Snap and Volximort are the same person is so unfounded and bizarre that you kind of dismiss what comes next, but despite retaining nothing beyond the most surface-level details about the canon, she somehow managed to make the connection of Harry’s abilities and scar as evidence of him being a horcrux. It’s not a massive leap, and many in the fandom saw it coming, but for someone whose grasp on the canon simply doesn’t exist, it’s suspect.

I’ve unfortunately already blown the “big deal of a revelation that is fairly obvious” joke, so I won’t bother setting it up again, but this revelation is genuinely a noteworthy one. Contained within My Immortal is one reference that is unambiguously and inarguably gothic. Not one of the borderline cases like Marilyn Manson where it depends on who you ask, but a genuine reference to a piece of gothic music. From chapter 28,

We went in2 a blak room. The wallz were blak with portraits of gothic bands lik MCR, GC and Marlin Mason all over them. A big black coffin was in the middle. Red vevlet lined da blak box. There were three chairs made of bones with real skullz in dem. I wuz wearing a blak corset bar wif purple stuff on it, fishnet suckings and a blak leather thong underneath.

It’s so subtle and unexpected a reference that even if you know what it’s from, you may not pick it up. “Red velvet lines the black box” is a lyric from Bauhau’s 1979 song Bela Lugosi’s Dead, which is generally considered to be the very first gothic rock song ever written, thus making it the only genuinely gothic sentence in this entire tale. However, devoid of teenage angst or guyliner, it makes no sense that such a reference would be in the repertoire of somebody who believes that Marilyn Manson was a band from the '80s. In fact, it is impossible to believe that a Tara taken at face value would have ever so much as encountered the song, because the collision of matter and anti-matter annihilates both. However, it would be the fodder of somebody who, baffled at how easily people have accepted their work as a genuine offering, got bored and decided to throw a wink to the camera that couldn’t have possibly slipped under the radar.

Littered among the litany of showy, “look at how goffik” I am references to things, as though My Immortal were a PSA about the goth cred of Tara Gilesbie, are a few rather suspect notes. Tara is somebody who can’t mention certain names without indicating her undying hatred toward them, and yet,

“I love you!” I said and then we started to kiss just like Hilary Duff (i fukin h8 dat bitch) and CMM in a Cinderella Story.

We are apparently to believe that Tara, somebody who is so slavishly devoted to her identity and to a dichotomy that has coloured the entirety of a fictional universe, not only watched A Cinderella Story in spite of her hatred of Hilary Duff, but then drew a comparison to it in how she and Draco kissed? Drawing comparisons to things the author is interested in is a rather frequent amateur move for young fanfic writers who merely draw the blunt comparison to something rather than learning to describe the individual features themselves. Tara is not a good enough writer to describe the facial features of her favorite band leads, so she just mentions that people look like Gerard to indicate that the absolute pinnacle of human attractiveness is this.

The only comparisons she ever draws are to her favorite things, because it’s a way to prove that her life is so goffik that everything around her draws its existence from her interests. And yet she cites a Hilary Duff movie that she quite frankly should not have even seen, if she is so diametrically opposed to being perceived as a prep, which veering so far off of the beaten goff path and into would most certainly indicate. Something doesn’t add up about this.

On what I believe to be the intentional cliffhanger that chapter 42 ends on, we hear another mention of goffik cinema right before the very end of the story.

“Save us Ebony!” Dumbledark cried.

I cried sexily I just wanted 2 go 2 the commen room and slit my wrists with mi friends while we watched Shark Attak 3 and Saw 2 and do it with Draco but I knew I had 2 do somefing more impotent.

“ABRA KEDABRA!!!!!!!!!!!11111” I shooted.

For those not in the know, Shark Attack 3: Megalodon is a phenomenally bad direct-to-video monster movie whose sole claim to fame is in being so laughably bad that it’s found an audience in bad movie circles. And while one could make the fairly weak argument that on the basis of some super edgy “I love watching people dying” attitude, a movie like Shark Attack might appeal to Tara the same way slashers and gorn like Saw and “Hoes of Wax” appeal to her, it’s so bizarre in its sudden presence at the very end that I believe it yet another wink, but this time a more final one. The second-to-last sentence in the story makes mention to a notorious bad movie to draw the connection to the story, a final and overt declaration of a joke that you’re supposed to be in on. The last punchline before the music hits and Porky Pig bursts from out of the big drum to say, “That’s all folks.”

Part 4. What Difference Does it Make? - The Desecration of Canon

Calling out My Immortal for distorting and twisting the Harry Potter universe into something unrecognizable and monstrous is like calling out a bear for shitting in the woods, but it’s impossible to explain how carefully crafted a piece of perfect trollfic it is without examining just how many 'liberties’ Tara took with the canon.

All of the characters that Tara seeks to lionize convert to Slytherin, because apparently people can just do that if they decide they really like black lipstick. But that’s not enough to make them more 'like her’. Backstories are revised to include a quite frankly startling volume of sexual abuse backstories and characters secretly adopted by abusive parents. Vampirism is not a trait anybody received through the narrative, but instead a species inherited by birth that somehow, people don’t know they have, showing no signs or hunger, until they learn about their parentage. Characters all receive new, gothic nicknames like B'loody Mary, Vampire, and Diabolo.

What Tara has done is remove everything about the characters one may think noticeable about them in the slightest. Everyone now resembles Tara’s favorite artists. Harry’s iconic lightning bolt scar, a symbol of the series, has been changed by makeup and magic to instead be a pentagram, because that is a design change of her choice, visually reclaiming the character from Rowling. The only character whose visual traits at all line up with the canon is Voldemort.

Then all of a suddenly, an horrible man with red eyes and no nose and everything started flying towards me on a broomstick! He didn’t have a nose (basically like Voldemort in the movie) and he was wearing all black but it was obvious he wasn’t gothic.

But then it gets stranger. Hagrid becomes a member of Ebony’s band Bloody Gothic Rose 666 and a “little Hogwarts student” (chapter 11). Although she appears to retcon that in chapter 12 with,

AN: stop f,aing ok hargrid is a pedo 2 a lot of ppl in amerikan skoolz r lik dat I wunted 2 adres da ishu! how du u no snap iant kristian plus hargrid isn’t really in luv wif ebony dat was sedric ok!

Although she seems to take a strange “whatever I want” approach to her own retcons like the most hackish of comic book writers, since we get in that very chapter,

Anyway I was in the school nurse’s office now recovering from my slit wrists. Snap and Loopin and HAHRID were there too. They were going to St. Mango’s after they recovered cause they were pedofiles and you can’t have those fucking pervs teaching in a school with lots of hot gurlz. Dumbledore had constipated the cideo camera they took of me naked. I put up my middle finger at them.

Anyway Hargrid came into my hospital bed holding a bouquet of pink roses.

“Enoby I need to tell u somethnig.” he said in a v. serious voice, giving me the roses.

“Fuck off.” I told him. “You know I fucking hate the color pink anyway, and I don’t like fucked up preps like you.” I snapped. Hargrid had been mean to me before for being gottik.

Hagrid is in this canon simultaneously a pedophile and presumably grown-ass adult, but also a Hogwarts student who may or may not be Cedric Diggory, who not only survived the events of Goblet of Fire, but also managed to fail two years at Hogwarts to join Harry as a seventh-year. He is also a poser who is mean to Ebony for being 'gottik’, but is also in her gothic rock band which sounds like “a cross between GC, Slipknot and MCR”, which as we all know would make it the most authentic gothic rock band since Mungo Jerry.

Except in chapter 14 a Death Eater is referred to as “the fat guy who killed Cedric” so maybe HAHrid really is Hagrid after all?

Then there is the odd decision to align Lupin and Snape as pedophilic voyeurs in the service of Voldemort while bizarrely championing Professor Trelawny, in stark contrast to a fandom that especially in the golden days of Harry Potter fandom, where people would dick ride Severus Snape all the way to the moon on the weight of how 'misunderstood’ he was. A pale man who seems conventionally 'dark’ in his interests and mannerisms is the perfect place to begin projecting on when you’re telling a story about how you’re the exact same things, but it seems almost too obvious a decision. Like the rest of Professor Siniater’s composite existence, she’s so odd a choice that it startles you, and I believe within that shock value is the decision to buck expectations.

A trip to the past begins to paint an even more bizarre picture, as apparently the parents of our heroes all went to school in the 1980s, alongside Voldemort and Hedwig. They were also all Slytherin goffs who at some point seem to have just turned into poser preps whose children had to re-convert out of Gryffindor and into gothhood. This timeline yet again causes a great many headscratching tears in the fabric of space and time, but the most vital and important of all is Hedwig.

In the canon, Hedwig is Harry’s owl, female and not much of a doer, speaker, or goth. But in the horrible alternate universe that My Immortal takes place in, Hedwig is a bisexual human male who is very much a goth, the ex-boyfriend of Tom Riddle, whose dumping of the boy starts his descent into becoming Volxemort. It is a change that is so wrong, so removed from not only the canon but from the possibility of anything ever being accurate to the canon, that it can’t be accidental. One cannot fuck up that badly by accident.

Voldemort himself is a great many things. In the past, he is Tom Riddle, gothic musician at Hogwarts and love interest to Ebony, but also Tom Bombadil, the master of wood, water, and hill. But in the present time, he is both the Bark Lord, as one may expect, but also potentially a young, thoroughly goffik employee at a “punkgoff” store in Hogsmeade, Tom Rid. Tom Rid is described as “OMG HOTTER THAN GERARD EXCEPT NOT CAUSE THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE“ and, like every other guy in the story, is “bisezual”. Tom Rid is never the setup for Voldemort’s secret infiltration of the goth subculture, but nonetheless seems to be a template earlier in the story for the later time travel storyline and Tom Riddle as a love interest. It’s another nonsensical “mistake” thatjust doesn’t mesh with any fathomable stupidity. It would be like introducing a character called Harry Pot and having him be completely disconnected from Harry Potter in any way.

Littered with iPods and anachronistic pop culture that manages to miss its mark in two different time periods, the only reason we know that this is the same world and not just one with suspiciously similar names is the fact that it’s fanfiction. Not a deep AU that interestingly adapts elements into a different world to see how they work out, or which shows characters and how they might develop under different circumstances. This is a mangled mess where muggle bands play concerts in Hogsmeade, seemingly well aware of wizards’ existence. There must be panic on the streets of London.

The big question is “why”. Why would somebody do this bad a number of canon, accidental or not? And the reason is simple.

Part 5. Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want – Wish Fulfillment

By changing the context of everything except for the most basic connections of who the characters are 'supposed’ to be, they cease to be J.K. Rowling’s. They instead become Tara’s playthings. The canon is so distorted that it may as well not be fanfiction for how few things that remain intact, and yet it is vital that the world be the world of Harry Potter, at least nominally. Tara needs to turn a world that she loves, as off the mark as she may be, into a wonderland in which to self-insert, to mold into a countercultural paradise that centers completely around her.

We can’t speculate on the life of Tara – who this entire paper of course serves as a document meant to disprove the very existence of – but we can very clearly see the desires of this alleged person. Ebony is the single most important person in My Immortal, supplanting Harry as the only one who can kill Voldemort, whom every attractive character and even many unattractive ones profess their love to and fight for without provocation. Her interests are catered to on an unrealistic level and divine karmic justice makes those who sit culturally opposed to her suffer undeserved retribution solely for existing.

Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way is, even by those who see her as an entirely genuine creation, often held up as the ultimate self-insert. On top of very clearly existing as an author avatar who holds the exact same interests as her creator, her very presence distorts and twists the canon around her like an eldritch abomination tearing the very fabric of the reality she occupies. One of the more criticized elements of self-inserts in fanfiction is of course the ease with which a narrative becomes wish fulfillment for the author, and My Immortal has this in droves. Ebony is the most important character in the world not because she’s the protagonist or the narrator, but because she has supplanted Harry as the only person who can stop Voldemort, and whom everybody’s 'motivations’ center around.

Ebony is loud, angry, and has access to a time machine. When Ebony isn’t on-screen, all of the other characters ask, “Where’s Ebony?”

The love triangle between Ebony, Draco, and Vampire begins with Vampire solely wanting to reconnect with his ex-boyfriend Draco, but as the story goes on that element is lost and replaced with him instead lusting after Ebony, as evidenced by the time they had sex right in the middle of Hair of Magical Creatures. One of the only connections that two different characters had with each other is slowly replaced with an attraction to Ebony that they fight over, because everyone in My Immortal is defined by how Ebony perceives them. Their own attractions to one another take a backseat to their lust for Ebony, save for occasions where she permits them to have sex for her enjoyment, at which point it is presented as titillation for her.

Also among the characters with stated romantic interest in Ebony are Tom Rid, Hairgird, Snope, Lumpin, Tom Riddle, and Snaketail.

Everybody who has things in common with Ebony is Ebony, essentially. Every character is so interchangeable due to the pre-packaged identity she assumes is the only authentic way to be gothic that nobody feels like an actual character. Willow and B'loody Mary both occupy the role of female best friend for Ebony, save for a brief period where Willow is killed and Lupin has sex with her corpse before her resurrection one chapter later. In fact, the only time a character Ebony isn’t sexually attracted to is complimented is when she tries to lay on really thick her attempt to suck up to Raven in the hopes she’ll return to editing. The only difference between Vampire and Draco is how many times Ebony has sex with them, and that’s not getting into the masses of other goff guys who may as well be nameless, such as Diabolo (Ron), “Crab”, Goyle, and “Dracola” (Navel). In the past, Tom “Satan” Riddle proves to be just as generic a love interest as the other two, and then more faceless characters in Hades (“Serious Blak”), Lucian Malfoy, James “Samoro” Potter, and Hedwig.

Nobody has any character, save for Ebony, because they’re not meant to be characters, they’re meant to be imaginary friends for Ebony to play with, to fawn over her and have everything in common with her. If we buy into the belief that Tara is a rather lonely teenage girl who has apparently pushed away her only friend over a My Chemical Romance poster, then her decision to basically strip away everything that makes the Harry Potter world what it is so that she could rebuild it from the ground up into her gothic paradise makes a lot of sense.

Of course, she isn’t that at all, but first we need to look at all the other things that Tara is and isn’t.

Part 6. Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before – Raven

Fifteen-year-old Eternity Demen'tia Johnson warily took a seat on the Hogwarts Express. As she did so, she heard many giggles in the air. Ugh. Stupid preps. Eternity had hoped she wouldn’t see any when she came to Hogwarts. They had made her life in Los Angeles High School miserable. Now she was supposed to put up with them here? She sighed sadly, and stared out of the window. In her mistery, she took her iPod out of her Emily the Strange bag and blared on some My Chemical Romance (A/N: Don’t they rock?). Oh great. Now even more preps were giving her dirty looks. Eternity tried her best to ignore them. It wasn’t because Eternity was dirty or deformed or anything. Maybe it was something to do with her black leather corset, or her ripped black miniskirt or her black combat boots or the metal music she was listening to. Eternity hated how people judged her like that just because she was a goth.

The above is a snippet from I’m Not Okay, written by Tara’s friend Raven. And in it, you can see a lot of the same themes present in My Immortal. Anachronistic technology, a misunderstanding of what the goth subculture is, preps hating her on mere principle, authors notes spliced in mid-sentence to herald the glory of her taste, and more description offered up for her clothes than for anything else. Throughout I’m Not Okay, we see Draco Malfoy as the gothic love interest, comparisons of characters to members of bands the author likes, and canon Harry Potter characters becoming gothic and taking on nicknames like Dracula, Sea, and Darren.

Good sense and suburban decency run screaming at the sight of a dark name like “Darren”.

Rather than shit all over preps of her own design, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger, two characters so far removed from the stereotype of an American high school “popular kid” that it’s almost infuriating, are turned into the superpreps to be hated. Slytherin is still so gothic a house that their common room password is “bleeding kisses” and the portrait is a woman described as the “splitting image” of the lead singer of Sisters of Mercy, an actual goth band whose frontman Andrew Eldritch is most certainly not a woman and not even particularly androgynous.

The same out-of-place theme of sexually abusive adopted parents that plagues My Immortal’s side characters returns in Eternity’s backstory. She sticks her middle finger up at preps unprovoked and veers off course to call out the shittiness of preps. Really, Eternity is in every imaginable way just Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way with a marginally better writer, as is to be expected from the editor of Tara’s disasterpiece.

The authenticity of Raven’s works isn’t in doubt, in my mind. It predates the memetic nature of My Immortal by a great deal, they co-wrote a story entitled Ghost of You that, again, features the exact same terrible tropes and bad ideas, albeit this time with Hermione Granger as the parentally abused goth hated by preps and now in love with Draco Malfoy, And, the fifth and final chapter of I’m Not Okay has,

a/n: TARA IS DA BIGGEST FUCKING BITCH EVERY AND BY THE WAY I’M A BIGGER MCR FAN AND GERARD IS MINE 4EVA SO FUCK U

Eternity was so happy. She went to class with the other fifth-years, Sea, Draco, Shadow, Darren, and Satan. That fucking retard Elvira (whose real name was Lindsay like that fucking ho Lindsay Loan) had gone all the way back to first-year and they put her in Gryffindor where all the retarde4d preps were because she couldn’t even write properly and she had to get her friends 2 do it for her.

Hot damn. That’s a far more scorching burn than being the offscreen victim of Lumpkin the necphilak.

Raven’s stories being the template for My Immortal is no coincidence. Tara aped everything she saw with gusto, imitating her friend who, while not a very good writer, could write sentences properly and gave description to things. Hell, as far as fifteen-year-old fanfic writers go, Raven is actually pretty decent, just entrenched in some terrible themes–again, pretty typical for teenagers–and does things like describe Eternity 'sadly putting her hair up’. On some level, Tara is trying to be as good a writer as Raven is. She looks up to her and, immediately after in a fit of anger killing off the character meant to be Raven, brings her back and guiltily sucks up to her with as many compliments as she can give.

Whether she is the same person as 'Tara’ or a friend in on the joke, I believe that Raven exists as sort of a proto-Tara, a precursor to the real juicy fun. Her story isn’t very good and she writes the exact same things Tara does with marginally more writing ability. They’re identical in every possible way, with the same interests, attitudes, and bizarre writing sensibilities. Almost no differences in the presented persona emerge, but as much as their obsessions with clothing and iconography bordering on disingenuous poserliness would imply that the pre-packaged nature of their identities is to blame, I believe it was all meant to deepen the character, provide a more grounded contrast to her and help make her seem more real.

Rather than existing as a nebulous beta reader who also has no prior internet history, existing solely through the character of Willow and authors notes that let their ongoing drama spill through into the story for us to see in what I feel is a brilliant piece of meta performance art, she has her own stories that make her very much a real presence in the extended saga of My Immortal. I believe that in the long term, she was meant to continue onward as a developing foil for Tara, someone whose existence helped back up her own. But, as evidenced by the way I’m Not Okay stops at chapter 5, which on the timeline of My Immortal would place it somewhere around chapter 16, this didn’t go as planned.

If “Raven” were a co-conspirator to “Tara”, it’s possible they got bored, didn’t have the insane devotion to a multi-layered and quite frankly absurdly deep prank. If Raven and Tara are one and the same, then perhaps the pressure of developing two 'different’ personas proved too much work, and decided to focus on the big one. After all, Raven’s stories are only notable through her association to Tara, the Art Garfunkel to Tara’s Paul Simon. Mediocre but ultimately harmless stories that by and large flew under the radar and aren’t even well known by people who know My Immortal. I’m Not Okay was never going to draw the same level of interest or vitriol that My Immortal did, thus making it a joke with far less payoff, even if by virtue of not being as poorly written, it was likely easier to write. This is helped by the immense disparity in productivity between the two; whether the primary actor or personality, Tara is more prolific, something that ties directly into the return on investment when it comes to how people reacted to either story.

And as it turned out, she wasn’t needed. The My Immortal Extended Universe has long since been forgotten, and yet people fell for the joke without it. People bought very easily into My Immortal as a genuine piece of work, or at least were so willing to enjoy it as a mockable distraction that nobody ever really asked. Raven became a redundant cog in the machine, and removing her freed up the effort to focus full time on making My Immortal something even more incredible than it began as.

More evidence of this lies in the fact that even once Raven allegedly returns to her role as editor, the spelling only gets increasingly worse; she’s credited as helping in many chapters, but her former sensibilities are gone, and no edits are ever made, as illustrated in the snippets detailing the degeneration in part one. It’s possible that this was meant to convey that Raven wasn’t actually helping; that she quit writing fanfic due to her fallout with Tara, and Tara merely went on pretending she still had a friend in Raven as she sank deeper and deeper into her wish fulfillment paradise. Raven never managed to gain the established foothold that Tara did, so nobody ever questioned it, and everyone was too busy having a good time to wonder how the chapters ever qualified as being 'edited’.

Curious is the fact that even though they made up, Raven never came back. She didn’t continue writing her own stories, the drama between them never resurged, and aside from her supposed beta services to Tara, is absent from the bulk of the saga in its entirety. This is in spite of the fact that in all apparent ways, Raven is not only the more skilled writer, but the one with a clearer passion for it. Her prose may be nothing special, but the bar should not be set too high for what is allegedly a teenage girl writing Harry Potter fanfic. She falls into a lot of the common holes, but her style is that of someone who loves stories and wants to write their own, and for her to so quickly vanish and never return is, to me, evidence that she was always a character too, and that her place in the 'real life’ layer of My Immortal was simply deemed irrelevant.

Part 7. Girlfriend in a Coma – That Time Tara Got Hacked

In chapter 38, a time-displaced Tara opens for Marilyn Manson in Hogsment, which is what Hogsmeade was called before they changed it in 2000. In Hogsmint, a store called Hot Ishoo will change its name to Hot Topic in the year 1998. Tom Riddle possesses future knowledge of both of these events, as well as the certainty that because amnesia potions haven’t been invented yet, he will not be affected by the one being used on his cigar branded with a movie that hasn’t come out yet, which is a shame because he wanted to use the potion on Ebony so that the time-traveling girl he loves will forget about her old life and her romantic entanglements in her own timeline with the sons of two of his bandmates sothat only her love for him will remain. His prescient, almost accepting knowledge of seemingly everything about his future up until his fall is almost tragic; he must know that Ebony’s involvement in his life is going to ruin it

On top of being the Dark Lord and Tom Bombadil, Tom Riddle may also be Doctor Manhattan. But that’s not the point of this part.

After xBlakXTearX performs its first big gig, the band immediately falls apart as, due to Lucian Malfoy playing the wrong song by mistake, Samaro Potter decides to shoot his arm off with a knife. Those of you attempting to follow the bizarre, Ebony-centric take on the universe may be surprised to learn that she is not the Yoko Ono of the band in what may be the only important conflict in the story that isn’t about her. However, since everything has to be about our goffik darling, Ebony jumps in front of the bullet–that, again, has been shot from a knife, like this is the second-worst Final Fantasy game ever made–and enters a coma.

Bear in mind, she does this knowing that Lucian survives this attack, going on to find love, have Draco, and despite two stints as a wizard nazi manages to avoid jail time and lead a life of incredible luxury and comfort. This also requires her to ignore her very important mission to prevent Tom from ever becoming Voldemort and the insane repercussions of dying in a timeline that isn’t her own, leaving behind all of her possessions that are even more anachronistic in the 80s, including a time machine that anyone could suddenly begin misusing.

All in all, an incredibly stupid decision with no purpose other than to insert Ebony and her useless ass selfless heart into conflicts that she has nothing to do with, because she’s the 'hero’ of our story.

Before we could see the resolution of that nail-biting cliffhanger, Tara’s account was allegedly hacked by a 'guest writer’, who claimed to have been able to crack her password with incredible ease. While there, the password cracker gives her own take on My Immortal, involving the death of Ebony, which undoes all of Tara’s damage upon the universe and returns everybody to their proper states, while sentencing Ebony to a terrifying ironic hell where she is doomed to an eternity of wearing infinite layers of preppy clothing brands.

While there, the hacker also shares with us the real chapter 39 as an act of kindness to those of us who were clinging onto the saga for dear life and wanted to know how Ebony was going to survive jumping in front of the knife-propelled bullet. Allegedly, this chapter was already written and waiting to be posted in the document area. It ends up being such a bizarre element of time travel that even the Terminator franchise never went there.

“What the fuk happened?” I asked dem. “Oh my satan!11 Am I lik dead now?” I gosped.

“Enoby u were almost shot!11” said Serious. “But da ballet could not kill u since u were form anodder time.”

“But fangz anyway!1” said Lucian holding oot his arm. I gasped. He had two arms!

Which opens up a lot of questions, then shoves them aside so I could wonder for a second if Lucius Malfoy was missing an arm in the canon. He wasn’t, making this another perplexing note of Tara’s that rewards a familiarity with the source material by highlighting all the ways in which it’s wrong. But then, after being told that Snap was Death Dealer, despite being the classmate of a Tom Riddle who hadn’t yet gone dark, Ebony comes across Snape raping Draco, and is so distraught by her boyfriend’s betrayal in this act that she runs to her room, takes out a steak, and uses it to slit her wrists.

Neither steaks nor stakes work like that.

The next chapter begins with her “back in Tim” due to her suicide, but the endgame plot batshit of My Immortal isn’t something we can even tackle in full yet.

There is a lot about the hacker that’s peculiar, and that’s because I believe that the hacker is Tara herself. A lot of minor elements of the breach of her account actually betray this secret, and it’s one of the few things in My Immortal I’m unsure about in regards to its intent.

The way that fanfiction.net handles posting a story involves uploading the story file to a document area, and then from the story menu selecting the relevant document. I always found it kind of clumsy personally, but what stands out about it is the fact that the chapter was allegedly written and left online for an indeterminate amount of time. There aren’t many reasons to upload a completed chapter to the website and then not post it. For someone like Tara, who does no editing and is clearly no longer sending the story off to Raven to be edited, there seems to be absolutely no reason for the story to be sitting idly in the documents area. I imagine Tara finished each chapter and immediately shoved it online in a frantic hurry to get it out there, as opposed to leaving it online to age like a fine vintage of toilet moonshine.

The original posting of the chapter was actually from the original document being copy/pasted into the one that contained the fake chapter nine. However, chapter 40 is then posted some time later as, “Chapter 40. LOL! Someone has taken my account over” by what seems to be the hacker. Which is odd, since they already pasted it into chapter 39, and posting it again from the document area seems rather pointless. It even includes an addition of, “THE IDIOT’S NOTE: Well… this was in the doc area… might as well let the whole world see what the real Tara wanted to show us… Have a nice day!” that the chapter 39 version lacks, meaning this hacker allegedly went into the doc, copy/pasted it into a new file with her chapter and Tara’s, but then edited the original document and posted it too. It’s an odd thing to do, like someone went in with very little idea of what the plan actually was and stumbled redundantly over ideas as they went.

But particularly odd about this whole thing is that Tara does nothing about it. She doesn’t delete the insulting notes or remove the fake chapter, she leaves them both there even though the author’s note of chapter 41 makes it clear that she’s very aware of her account being compromised, not only letting the mockery of herself remain, but even letting it effect the numbering of subsequent chapters. Which may seem like just Tara not caring enough and going with the chapter numbers listed by fanfiction.net, until you look back at chapter 10.

Chapter 10 was posted twice, and Tara never removed the second, identical version of it. It remained on the site up until the day the story was purged by site moderators. And yet, Tara always remained consistent in her renumbering of the chapters, always subtracting one from the chapter count when she posted it; what the site claimed was chapter 12 was really chapter 11. For a story with only the barest minimum of shits given, to properly compensate for this numbering accident for almost thirty chapters is a surprising amount of misplaced effort, but it establishes that she does care about the chapter numbers, and makes the sudden slip a lot more suspect. Why only go halfway in on her effort by continuing to count her double-posted chapter, but not this fake one that she’s allowed to remain as a part of the saga?

Part 8. That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore – Bringing it all together

I’ve prattled on for well over ten thousand words now about a myriad of My Immortal’s issues, but you could look at each individual flaw of the story and say that on their own, they hardly form evidence of trollery afoot, even if some of the more glaring issues are harder to explain away. But surely I’m going to show how they connected to form the cohesive peak of my argument, right? “How soon are you going to get to that?” you shout into your screen, not knowing how computers work.

Well how soon is now?

Tara Gilesbie wrote a story that set her up as the ultimate caricature of a teenaged fanfic writer who is just the worst in all of the best ways. All of the elements of bad writing on every level came into a perfect storm that only grew more powerful over time as it sank further and further into its own madness until it didn’t even resemble what it had started out as. From the self-inserted wish fulfillment to a startlingly creative use of the English language, it hits every hallmark of a bad fanfic one would think to roll up into one neat and tidy little ball, save for perhaps a massive panfandom crossover of everything the author has ever liked.

There is a clear story arc in My Immortal, but it isn’t Ebony’s tale of romance and destiny, it’s Tara’s slow descent into gibbering madness, like the story she had created was an eldritch being that she was unable to comprehend the sight of. As I went over in part one, the writing style breaks down steadily over time, becoming more typo-ridden, filled with more and more casual abbreviations and chatspeak until it’s become apparent that she simply doesn’t care, and while the decline in writing 'quality’ certainly begins with Raven’s absence, it is a steady drop for many chapters afterward. Tara’s character is not one that seems like she has a grasp on subtlety or moving slowly, but that’s the pace with which the boundaries are pushed.

Let’s look at the plot in a rather brief rundown. The story starts out fairly simply, with Ebony and Draco falling in love and having poorly written sex in the forest. Vampire comes in to complicate things in a love triangle that is surprising for leading to attraction angst in all possible directions. Voldemort’s introduction adds to the melodrama of the story, and it weaves in and out of slice of life romance angst and the Voldemort subplot rather strangely. Then, in chapter 17, my favorite part of the story occurs, and it signifies the moment where My Immortal jumps the shark in a way nobody would have ever dreamt of.

Gerard was da sexiest guy eva! He locked even sexier den he did in pix. He had long raven blak hair n piercing blue eyes. He wuz really skinny and he had n amazing ethnic voice. We moshed 2 Helena and sum odder songz. Sudenly Gerard polled of his mask. So did the other membez. I gasped. It wasn’t Gerard at all! It was an ugly preppy man wif no nose and red eyes… Every1 ran away but me and Draco. Draco and I came. It was…….Vlodemort and da Death Deelers!

“U moronic idiots!” he shooted angstily. “Enoby, I told u to kill Vampire. Thou have failed. And now……….I shall kill thou and Draco!”

“No no please!” We begged sadly but he took out his knife.

Sudenly a gothic old man flu in on his broomstick. He had lung black hair and a looong black bread. He wus werring a blak robe dat sed ‘avril lavigne’ on da back. He shotted a spel and Vlodemort ran away. It was…………………………………DUMBLYDORE

It’s important here to note that this is very soon after Raven left the story. and remember that this is around when the story began to stop caring about spelling and typing. After this point, everything in the plot goes off the rails. The melodrama ramps up, Ebony is revealed as the only one who can stop Voldemort, time travel is introduced, despite supplanting Harry as the chosen one who can defeat the Dark Lord she instead tries to seduce a teenaged Tom Riddle… Everything goes completely off the rails.

And that’s the plan all along. The angle of Raven and Tara’s feud never went anywhere, probably because nobody really cared much about two teenagers yelling at each other on the internet. At least, not until 2015 when some asshole would examine the shit out of it for very little discernable reason or gain. I believe that when it was scrapped, the brain trust behind My Immortal decided to go in a different direction. Readers may not have took the bait of their public dispute, but they were buying the troll hook, line, and sinker. People genuinely believe, or at least want to believe, that the story was written in earnest. Even a lot of the people who have doubts about it have them on the grounds that they don’t want to accept that someone could write a story so terrible. The unexpected appeal of the trainwreck that was My Immortal itself, rather than the meta saga of Tara Gilesbie, terrible writer and object of mockery, drove the project into a different direction.

The story and spelling both degrade at the same time, steadily creeping further and further into the most ludicrous things the author thinks they can get away with. As the readers continue to accept what they see as genuine, the author pushes further, which is why we see new elements constantly introduced into the story where they make no sense. It’s not Tara throwing the kitchen sink into her story in a misguided belief that a lot of everything will make her story good, it’s Tara setting the narrative on a trajectory of the most ludicrous thing she can think of, and watching as people believe it. Because they do, completely.

Sex is introduced into the story, because of course it is, through the most unappealing of ways possible. Genitalia are referred to by 'thingy’ as though using the word penis is too embarrassing for her to handle, even though later she refers to Snap’s 'clook’ without issue. To further the wish fulfillment, she must be having sex with her love interests, and it must be terrible.

We went on the bed and started making out naked and then he put his boy’s thingy in mine and we HAD SEX. (c is dat stupid?)

I believe they call that docking.

I’ve already explained how I believe Tara Gilesbie to be just as much a fictional character as Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, and what I feel that character is meant to be is the most mockable and stereotypical fanfic writer one could ever dream of. A teenage emo girl delusionally believing she’s a goth, who’s into boys kissing but has no problem throwing homophobic slurs around, who violates the Harry Potter canon in every way possible for the sake of creating her world of wish fulfillment where everything centers around her. Every bad writing trope wrapped up into sensibilities that set themselves up for mockery. Throw on a tragic lack of self-awareness that opens her up to be laughed at as she smugly highlights her mistakes, and all the pieces fall into place.

Tara Gislebie is a parody of fanfic writers.

Before My Immortal hit the scene, bad fanfiction was not as popular a fandom passtime as it is now, owing largely to new forms of media allowing us to better share the stories and our mockery of them than we had access to in mid-2006, but also because it was always rather contained within fandoms or specific LJ groups meant to deride them. But My Immortal crossed boundaries and spread far outside the reaches of the Harry Potter fandom, to become more than just a story. It was a sensation, a fic so notorious that even people who weren’t around back then have still at least heard of it, even if they haven’t gone out looking for it. While bad writers are nothing new to fandom, My Immortal set off a slew of imitators and tributes, fake sequels, adaptations using its basic setups in different fandoms to produce interesting results, and with more attention suddenly on badfic with the intent to mock it, troll writers came out in droves to try and reproduce the magic.

Some succeeded. Many failed, and I believe one of the main reasons is that people continue to take My Immortal at its word. They just whip some typo-heavy dreck up in their word processor, and ignore all of the subtler elements of My Immortal. It gets so much wrong from the very beginning, but it had to slowly stew in its own crazy long enough to become the poorly written train wreck we’ve come to love. For a story so over the top, that combines all of the elements of a bad story into one perfect package, it does it cleverly enough that it continues to fool people almost ten years later.

You may believe that this is all way too much work for anyone to put into a stupid fanfic. That if it’s meant to be a joke, that it’s a long way to go. Developping characters, faked account compromises, and an active effort put into writing as terribly as possible. And it is a lot of effort, which is meant to throw you off, because it’s the greatest trick the devil ever pulled.

Haha. Wondering why this post isn’t where it’s normally found?

Well, my friends, ask no more!

On a dark lonely evening, sweat drips through your hair

Warm smell of your butthurt, rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance, see the laptop’s blue light

Your head grows heavy and your sight grows dim

Gotta stop for the night

There my posts on the display

Rang the warning bell

And you were thinking to your self

Give it a week and I’d surely quell

Then I flamed all the posters and I showed you her name

There were voices ringing in your head

Swear you’d heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel Tarafornia

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a normal place

Plenty of room at the Hotel Tarafornia

Any time of year (Any of time of year)

I can smell your fear

Her mind is Tumblr-addicted

She got them means behind ends

She got a lotta commie, commie kids

That she calls friends

How they dance in the Discord

Sweet doxxing rush

Some post to remember

Some troll to forget

So I called up the admin

“Please bring my ban”

And he said

We haven’t had that spirit here since GC toured Japan

And still those voices are ringing from far away

But still those posts are comin’ from far away

Wake you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear me say

Welcome to the Hotel Tarafornia

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a horrid face

Living it up in the Hotel Tarafornia

What an awful lie (What an awful lie)

What an alibi

Mirrors behind mirrors

Men behind the man

And she said: “We are all just copycats here

Of a copy of a fake

Among the moderators

They gathered for a feast

They stab it with their steely knives

But they just can’t kill the beast

Last thing you remember, you were

Grasping for your mouse

You had to find the permaban

To restore what was before

“Relax”, said your bete-noire

“I am

Programmed to deceive

You can ban me any time you like,

But I will never leave!”

5 notes · View notes

grapesodatozier · 5 years

Note

can you post more smutty madwheeler hcs?

hell ya i can i just cant proofread them lmao so sorry for any typos or tense changes. anywho get your sub!mike hats on folks!!

okay so to set the scene for these hcs… mikes a whole dumbass

like hes school smart and everything but hes just,, so dumb

hes going into his senior year of college and he’s never eaten anyone out

hes given blowjobs, but he realizes he’s only ever had sex with people with dicks

and basically he starts having an early onset midlife crisis bc hes mike wheeler so of course he does

he knows that he wants to eat someone out at some point, like he’s not in a rush to actually do so, but he doesn’t want to be bad at it once he actually gets around to it, so he feels rushed to learn

this is the dumbass part bc he should realize you can’t really be “good” at sex bc everyones different

but he succumbs to the social pressure/college myths and such, and he kinda starts to panic about it bc mike wheeler does not like not knowing how to do things

so he goes to his closest friend on campus for help

he met max his freshman year, and while they both thought the other hated them at first they ended up being great friends

and max has seen mike at his peak dumbass, so he’s only kind of embarrassed when he asks her if she can teach him how to eat pussy

he thinks it’s a great plan bc not only does max have a pussy, but mike knows for a fact that she’s gone down on people with pussies plenty of times

and he’s expecting her to laugh, and sure, maybe say no, but he’s not expecting her to choke on her drink, he’s not expecting her cheeks to turn pink like that

“what?” she rasps once she catches her breath and clears her throat

mike shrugs, but he feels a lot less sure now. “i just don’t know how to, and i know you do, and i figured i could maybe practice on you while you teach me”

max’s eyebrows shoot up, and she shakes her head with a small laugh. “you’re a dumbass, you know that, right?”

and that helps mike relax, bc that sounds like max

“okay yeah i get it,” he grins, “it was dumb. i guess it’ll just have to happen when it happens”

“wait, no, i’ll do it” max rushes to say “it’s dumb, but yeah, i’ll help you”

“really?”

“how can i resist you admitting there’s something i’m better at than you?”

mike gives her a challenging smirk. “not for long”

and max laughs at that, but then it goes kind of quiet bc like… they’re sitting on the couch in her otherwise empty apartment as they speak… and they both kind of realize at the same time that there’s no reason to not start right then, and now mike isn’t quite so sure that he actually thought this through bc wow he really didn’t consider the potential consequences of this, especially bc he’s just recently been beginning to realize that he really likes max, like maybe more than a friend, but he’s still in the denial stage but that doesn’t stop his heart from racing at the thought of touching her, kissing her…

fucking her

suddenly his skin his burning all over

and hes all like “so… when do you wanna… like should we now? how should we-”

and max just cuts him off with a fond “god, you’re so fucking dumb” and a grin before swinging one of her legs over his hips and settling herself in his lap

you know that meme about being attracted exclusively to idiots? max

and before mike knows it, his hands are on max’s waist, and they feel really nice there

and her hands are in his hair and she’s kissing him, and it’s all kinds of wild to be kissing his best friend but it also makes him realize “oh shit ive been wanting this for a while huh”

theme: dumbass

and honestly, things come way more naturally than he was expecting

that is, until he realizes how far his hands have slid up her sides, so much closer to her chest than he intended

and that panic starts rising again, his heart racing, and he just sort of keeps his hands still there, then begins inching them slightly closer to her breasts

eventually she begins kissing down his neck and teases him a bit like “so are you gonna touch my tits or what?”

and mike is very happy to have permission

soon their shirts come off and they’re stumbling to max’s room

and suddenly they’re both in her bed in nothing but their underwear, and mike cant help but realize how beautiful she is, how happy she makes him, how she makes him feel all warm and giddy

but also as she unclasps her bra and tosses it aside, she makes him really fucking hard, so he focuses on that, bc that’s a lot less complicated

her tits looks so soft, and her nipples are the prettiest rosy pink color he’s ever seen

he’s nervous as he kisses down her chest, but the sounds she makes when he runs the tip of his tongue lightly, experimentally over her sensitive skin encourages him

and god, sucking her into his mouth for the first time is like a religious experience

meanwhile max is having a similar crisis/epiphany

bc like, mikes always been cute, but now his dark eyelashes are fanned across his pink, freckled cheeks, and his hairs a little messy from her fingers running through it, and he’s sucking on her tits like he was born for it, and she’s kind of overwhelmed by how much she’s enjoying this, how good it feels, and especially by how fucking beautiful he looks

she runs her hands over his skin, and it’s so soft and warm

and his back is curved so nicely…

god, this was a mistake, she can’t only do this once, now that she’s seen him like this she wants to see him like this all the fucking time, she can already feel how desperately she’ll be longing for it once it’s over

but for now she enjoys it, tells him to be gentler or go harder, tells him how to swirl his tongue over her tits, just barely touching her, which has her getting wetter and wetter

at one point she grabs his hair and bucks her hips up into his, and they’re both still for a second before mike kisses her again, even more desperately than before

and max doesn’t need to teach him anything about this; the way he sucks her lower lip between his teeth and teases his tongue over her own has her steadily rocking her hips, rubbing herself against his thigh

mike nearly comes right then and there when max moans his name

he takes it as a cue to kiss down her stomach

and he fucking looks up at her for permission with his hands so gently on her hips before taking her panties off and wowowow her heart is doing all kinds of flips

and mike doesn’t know what he’s expecting to feel when max spreads her legs, but what he ends up feeling is just pure awe

like he sees the fucking light lmao

and max thinks he’s just so fucking cute but also like she’s fucking desperate to feel his tongue on her

and some sort of electricity sparks through both of them once his mouth is on her, and she guides him through it, stroking his hair all the while

honestly… she kinda gets off on telling him what to do

like she has to tell herself to calm down lmao bc like the prettiest fucking guy has his head between her thighs and keeps looking up at her and he fucking wants her to order him around like that’s lowkey the point of this so she has to be like “okay chillchillchill don’t start domming him rn that’s not the goal here”

little does she know mike likes it too

like every time she pulls his hair to guide him up or down or harder or softer he can’t help but grind against the mattress bc he is so fucking into that

eventually she tells him to slide a finger into her, and she’d noticed before how long his fingers are, but wow they reach so fucking deep and she was not prepared for that

she tells him to add another, and wow that feels so fucking good, and he curls his fingers just the way she tells him to, and she knows she’s not gonna last very long

and shes moaning and rambling like “fuck, fuck, yes, just like that, don’t stop, fuck don’t fucking stop”

when she comes, she comes hard, her thighs wrapping around mike’s head

and it’s super intense but tbh she’s kind of into that

when she opens her eyes mike is all starry eyed, and his lips are all swollen and the entire bottom half of his face is glistening and this motherfucker has the audacity to look at her with his stupid sparkly brown eyes while she’s still fucking catching her breath and ask “was that good?”

max just pulls him into a kiss and strokes his hair

she also needs to get her mouth on his cock

he happily helps her get his boxers off, and neither of them mention that this was just supposed to be about him learning how to eat pussy

max is not ready for the realization that mike is genuinely a solid 8 or 9 inches

like she actually goes “what the fuck your cock is fucking huge”

and mike b l u s h e s at that, and max’s mouth is on him in like 0.2 seconds

the second he moans max knows that sounds gonna be on loop in her head for at least the next few days

he comes super quickly, and his o-face is the hottest thing max has ever seen

mikes embarrassed, but the way max swallows him down is so fucking hot, and she kisses him all over after he comes

somehow they silently agree to cuddle for a bit before showering together

they order pizza, and things seem normal but they both lie wide awake that night once they’re alone in their own beds

neither of them can stop thinking about it

they do it again a few days later

and mike looks so fucking gorgeous and hes all like “does that feel good?” and max can’t help but let him know how bad she wants to sit on his face

mike is SO down

she grips his hair and rides his tongue hard until she’s coming on top of him

…and then they keep going until she comes two more times

later that week mike feels kind of weird when he buys condoms on a whim, but it turns out to be a good thing, bc the third time they hook up max can’t help but tell him in the hottest voice he’s ever heard how badly she wants his cock inside of her

and tbh, while she’s wet as fuck for him, it takes a while of opening her up for her to be ready to take his cock

it’s so worth it once he’s inside of her tho

she guides him through fucking her, but they both kind of know he doesn’t really need it, this is coming so naturally to both of them

so it quickly turns into her more telling him what to do just because they both find it super hot

“fuck, baby, fuck me harder, fuck yes, just like that, that’s it baby, fuck it’s so good you’re such a good boy for me”

the phrase “good boy” rings in both of their ears and makes mike come immediately

“so… you’re into that then?”

“uh, yeah. you?”

“fuck yes.”

they never realized how sexually compatible they would be

like they both come at least three times the first time max is on top, they’re v v into all the same stuff (and each other)

then eventually they get their shit together and realize they’re in love!! so then they get to sprinkle “i love you"s throughout their dirty talk!! and they cuddle and kiss all the time!! it’s so great!!

okay thank you for coming to my dom!max/sub!mike ted talk lol

#madwheeler #notsfw

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not-creative-enough-stuff · 6 years

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SF9 reaction to their S/O doing a sexy dance collab with another member

@huis-totally-innocent-smirk requested this 1000 years ago and I finally did it

This probably has a lot of typos and errors because I wrote most of it when I was half asleep… and proofread it when I was half asleep too

Inseong

He’s going to be so passive aggressive about it. Whenever you try to go to practice he’s going to leech onto you so you can’t leave or he’ll hide your dance shoes. He’ll do dumb stuff to make sure that you can’t go. When he’s being really unreasonable, you’re going to have to sit him down and tell him that it’s just for work and there are no feelings involved. He’ll realise he’s being a little dumb so he’ll back off but honey he’s always ready to fight if your dance is too sexy to handle

Youngbin

He’s a grown ass man so this kind of stuff doesn’t usually make him uncomfortable. But because your dance is with someone he’s really close to, it’ll make him slightly jealous. He’ll try to ignore the whole collab itself. Whenever you bring it up in conversation, he’ll change the topic and pretend he can’t hear you. He’ll behave kind of like a child and be irrational at times. But when he watches the dance he’s going to realise it’s nothing compared to what you guys get up to in your sexy time COUGH COUGH

Jaeyoon

He’s a little bit of a mix of Inseong and Youngbin. He’ll do dumb shit to stop you from doing the collab and he’s going to act like it isn’t important so that you don’t talk about it with him. But he also knows that he’s hot stuff and what you guys do in your free time is nothing compared to this. You might have to tell him off for being immature, and when you do he’ll accept that he was being an idiot and he’ll be more comfortable with it.

Dawon

Back up everyone. The extra sass queen is here and he’s not leaving. He would only be a little jealous, nothing too intense, but because he likes being extra and funny he’ll pretend it’s bothering him more than it is. He won’t be annoying about it though. It’ll only be like sarcastic petty comments here and there. He’s also going act more manly when Youngbin is around, just so he can show you what you’re missing out on by dancing with Youngbin instead of him.

Zuho

Zuho will get slightly insecure. He doesn’t have a problem with the collab, but he might get thoughts like you look better with the other member and he’s not as good looking. He would talk to you about his insecurities because he wants to be mature about it and not petty unlike some of them (don’t @ me, I love them all). After you talk about it together, he would feel much better and he wouldn’t have anything against the dance. Will probably even get turned on by it.

Rowoon

He’s going to appear to be pretty chill about the collab, but deeeeep inside he’s probably fuming. Rowoon is chill when it comes to your relationship because he trusts and loves you a lot. When it comes to dancing with Zuho though, he will get a little jealous because one of his closest friends is getting handsy with you. He’s going to try to be mature though so he’ll push away the jealousy so you can do a good job with the performance.

Taeyang

J E A L O U S. That’s the best way to describe him in this situation. He wants to be the one dancing with you instead of Rowoon. Even though he trusts you and all of his members, he doesn’t like seeing someone else’s hands all over you. Whenever you’re practising he’s going to come into the room and start a ‘sexy’ dance battle with Rowoon so that he can show he’s the better dancer and he’s sexier.

Hwiyoung

Even though he’s a little possessive over you (not annoying possessive, just a cute kind of possessive), he would be pretty mature about this. He doesn’t like watching the performance but he won’t make a big deal out of it. He knows that it’s your job and he doesn’t want to get in the way of this. Whenever you come back from practice or a performance, he’s going to shower you with love so that you know that you only belong to him lmao cutie

Chani

Confused. He’s going to be so confused. He likes to baby you, so he’ll think you’re too young to be doing a sexy dance collab with anyone. He won’t even care about the fact that it’s with Hwiyoung. He’ll just be surprised by your sudden burst of sexiness. It’s a side he’s never seen of you so he would be excited and hyping you up. After a few months when the collab is over, he would randomly realise while he’s lying in bed, trying to sleep, that you and Hwiyoung got really close and he would freak out for a few seconds but then he would fall asleep and forget all about it.

#sf9 #kpop #sf9 reactions #kpop reaction #sf9 scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #sf9 imagines #taeyang #chani #hwiyoung #youngbin #inseong #jaeyoon #dawon #zuho #rowoon

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thehalfworld · 7 years

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Fanfic MST: Forbiden Fruit: The Tempation of Edward Cullen, a Twilight fanfic

I was talking to an online friend on Twitter not too long ago, and the subject of bad fanfiction came up. My friend had been reading “My Immortal” and losing his shit over it. I asked if he’d read “Forbiden Fruit: The Tempation of Edward Cullen” and it turned out he had not. He’d never even heard of it.

Indeed, while this story is one of the best-known badfics out there, it’s still considerably less popular than “My Immortal” is, and I think that’s a damn shame. This may be my personal favorite work of bad fanfiction; it’s a fantastic example of the “so bad it’s good” genre. Author BeckyMac666 writes like no other English-language writer has ever written, and this is both a good and a bad thing. She’s almost certainly a troll, given the blatant use of established badfic tropes and several parallels with “My Immortal,” but when you’re this good at being terrible it really doesn’t matter how serious you are about it.

For the record, there are folks who believe that this fic and “My Immortal” share an author, due to the aforementioned parallels. I personally don’t think that’s true, since the prose is very different, but if it amuses you to imagine that they’re written by the same person, be my guest.

Like virtually all Twilight badfic, this story is about a mysterious new girl arriving in Forks and shaking up Bella and Edward’s relationship by creating a love triangle. As usual, Bella is made out to be completely awful in the process, Jacob is largely forgotten about, and the protagonist may not be entirely human herself. This is far weirder, and more entertaining, than your average shitty Twilight fanfiction, though. Mark my words.

I first MSTed this fanfiction back on the old WordPress version of this blog, but, as that was a long time ago and I like to think I’m funnier nowadays, I rewrote most of my comments. It’s not wildly different, but hopefully it is an improvement over the old version.

AN hey guys this is the new improved verson of my story, hope its better this time!

I have no idea what the unedited version of this thing looked like, but I honestly can’t imagine it being any more ridiculous than the final story.

btw i am young and have dyslexia i find spellin hard but its meant2 be unformal ok !

Use spellcheck, you fool! Or get a proofreader!

no critisism pls!

Oops.

tis story goes out 2 my bf zac(kisses!) amd my besfreind Tiffi LOVE YA GRRRL!

The Tara parallel here is probably intentional. Zac never gets mentioned again, much like Tara’s boyfriend, but Tiffi isn’t Becky’s beta reader and they don’t have a spat partway through or anything of that sort.

EDWARD IS OUR GODD!(we wanna SEX him gud!)

Honestly, I think this is how all fanfiction should open. Just tell me straight-up what character you wanna bang before the story’s even started. Save us all some time.

love &blood becky mac! xxx x x xx

Aww. That’s kinda cute.

UPDATE: I have a proofreader and I have cleaned up the spelling and grammer on this chaptor a hell of a lot as you will see (thank u vickie!)

Yeah, Vickie, thank you. Looks like you’re doing a great job and you’ve got everything under control here.

i will be imrpoving the next chaptors soon.

Since this fic got “abandoned,” subsequent chapters have not actually been improved. Not that one can tell, anyway.

Altantiana

Yes, that is a typo of her OC’s name. Off to a great start.

Hey, my names Atlantiana Rebekah Loren (but everyone calls me Tiana or just plain Tiaa).

Virtually no one calls her Tiana during the course of the story. Just so you know. “Tiaa” isn’t a typo, either, though I have no idea why the author felt the need to add an extra A.

Notice the middle name? Subtle.

I am a 16 year old girl and I live in Forks, Washington!

This actually makes her a year younger than Bella, for the record.

My hair is long and pale like spun gold and skims to my waist like a pale shimmering amber mist.

It’s pale and it’s pale? Also, gold and amber are not the same color.

My eyes are deep forgetminot blue and my delicate fentures are lilly white and pure as the winter snow in moonlight.

I’ve been complimented on my fentures before too, but it’s nothing worth bragging about.

I've been told by loads of sleazy, ugly, HORNY guys that I'm real pretty and look like a model or a bunny girl (some of the guys who like me are really old and try to make opt with me its disgusting and weird!) but basically a lot of the girls I meet tell a different story.

Well, gee, after that modest description of yourself I’m shocked that boys think you’re attractive, Tiaa. You sounded so plain and ordinary.

Am guessing that the girls who don’t tell a different story are gay.

They say I'm too ivory white and ethereal and too skinny and that I look anorexic which i don't care about, but I think its seriously disrespectful to people with REAL eating disorders (btw i'm so totally not anorexic! I eat loads I just never gain weight and I'm not thin enough to be anorexic anyways, I think they were just being BIATCHES especially this one ratty brain called Ellie Mayfair who I hope freaking DIES in PAIN with SHIT ON HER FACE! Sorry, I'm not really such a batch but she is SO horrible if you met her you'd think the same!)

I hate when girls pick on me for being too ethereal.

Even though we’re using the “attractive character looks anorexic but isn’t” trope, and that’s obviously not so great, I guess it’s nice that Tiaa/Becky took the time to point out that the comparison is disrespectful to people who actually have anorexia or another eating disorder.

The bit about Ellie Mayfair is one of the best things I’ve ever read. I hope you guys all understand why I had to run this fic now.

Anyways I am quite tall and slim and but with really big boobs that I used to HATE because they look noticeable on my slender body and draw to much attention but now i like them and don't care who stares at me!

Ah, the “skinny yet improbably busty” body type. Strangely more common in fiction than in real life.

Tiaa totally does care who stares at her, by the way. As we’ll see shortly.

I have a lip ring and recently put black and indigo and magenta streaks in my long pale blond hair. I smell like mint and cinnamon.

I have no idea why we’re supposed to care about any of this, but I’m particularly unclear about why we should care what she smells like.

I wear mostly black and hot pink, deep purple and neon blue and listen to COOL music!

Tiaa’s specific music taste never comes up, to my recollection, but I’m betting My Chemical Romance is involved.

It is my first day at school in forks as I just moved here to live with new foster parents Dave and Marie. They are nice and all very hole some sweet people but it is not like having a real family.

Yeah, Tiaa is adopted. This is sort of plot-important later on, but we never get to learn much about her life prior to Dave and Marie.

I've been hurt to many times to let people close to me and I don't talk to them very much.

I mean… you just moved in with them.

My real mom died when I was born and I never knew my real dad. I sometimes wonder what he is like and if I will ever get to met him.

Foreshadowing!

Dave gave me a ride to school and I smiled faintly as he wished me good luck and I got out of the car and went into the school. Loads of people freaking stared at me as I walked down the hall.

Presumably because she’s too ethereal.

I was wearing tight black leather pants with silver chains at the waste and a red fishnet-like top and you could see my black lacy bra through it.

That could have something to do with why they’re staring.

I ignored whispers and the big pink cheerleader imbosils pointing at me. I was used to it and I paid no at-tension to the guys asking desperately for my number(like hell I'd even LOOK at the horny little donkeys!) and told a ditsy blond cheerleader called Jessica to STFU(!) when she called me a freak!

God I love this author’s writing style. Truly, no one has ever written like this, before or since. BeckyMac666 is one of the unsung geniuses of our time.

Next time she tries anything I'll hit her in the eye cause NO ONE messes with me nemore!

Most of the rest of the story is about various people messing with Tiaa. For the record.

My first day I was relay board, I sat gazing out of the window into the gray cloud-embittered sky for most of the morning, My teachers all looked at me disprovable but said nothing cause they probably new I was a foster kid and a Gothic and didn't want to upset me in case I cut them up as they slept,.

I’m a pretty big fan of the phrase “cloud-embittered,” although it is of course completely meaningless.

Hey, uh… why the hell hasn’t she gotten dress coded? I went to a private school and I guess our dress code was a bit stricter than most, but most high schools will get upset at teenage girls for not covering their knees and shoulders, let alone having any undergarments visible. Tiaa’s entire bra is showing through her fishnet top. This is a situation in which I think it’d be reasonable to ask her to change.

My ears are pierced four times, I have a tattoo of a scorpion(like S my birth-sign!) on my ankle and a Gothic cross on my shoulder, and on my hand i have a weird birthmark in the shape of a seven-pointed star that I've had all my life.

I don’t know why we’ve gone right back to (over)describing Tiaa, but I do think I should delete my entire OkCupid bio and replace it with this opening chapter.

Your probably wandering why I'm bothering to tell you this, well I tell you now I am no ordinary sixteen year old girl.

Could’ve fooled me!

I have a secret, a dark and forbidden secret witch I am only just beginning to understand. When I sleep I hear whispers in another language and even though I understand them at the time, when I wake up i can't remember it!

That’s nothing. I had a dream once where I explained the meaning of Nirvana lyrics to somebody (obviously not possible in real life), and I couldn’t remember my explanation when I woke up either.

I also see weird faces in my dreams that fade to nothingness when I open my eyes and I swear out the corner of my eye my birthmark glows shocking bright gold and gets relay hot sometimes but when I look properly it is back to normal boarding scar-color!

I’d like to remind you that this is set in the Twilight universe. It’s already got magical creatures, and there are rules established about their abilities, appearances, and behavior. Tiaa is clearly not quite human, but she doesn’t seem to be a vampire, a half-vampire, or a werewolf. She’s completely unique within her universe, for no defined reason, and the rules governing other nonhumans don’t apply to her.

Like, the physical description and the obvious homage to “My Immortal” already made it clear that this girl is a Mary Sue, but this author clearly gets that Sue status isn’t just about looking unreasonably pretty. It’s about defying the rules of canon. Tiaa’s outstanding at that, as you’ll see later on.

I am really gracefull like the running anti-lopes when I run very fast and am stronger and faster than most people.

God, what a sentence.

I used to just think i was relay athletic but now I'm not so sure, I think there might be something else at work, something so much more mysterious and eeire.

Something like… bad writing?

The truth hovers so softly on the brink of my memory sometimes but if only i could remember the weird things that clung to the edge of my mind as I slept!

There are so many bad fanfics where the prose is bare-bones, with few or no adjectives/adverbs and simple sentence structure. BeckyMac666 tends in the opposite direction, and it’s awesome. Everything is phrased as though it’s super dramatic, nonsense metaphors abound, and our author has clearly never met an adjective she didn’t like. Hey @ aspiring trollfic authors: take note. This is how you write an entertaining badfic.

At lunch I sat alone in the corner and scanned the cafeteria quietly with my eyes smoldering dark blue beheath my long black lashes and my slim thighs curled under me.

Also a big fan of how Tiaa always talks about herself as though she’s checking herself out.

It was the n I noticed an unbelievably jaw-droopingly hawt HAWT HAAAAAAAAWT dude with tusseted blondey-brown hair, golden yellow eyes like wells of hot caramel and pale sexy features. He was tall and mussel and looked like he was wearing eyeliner and my body got hot and cold all at once as I looked at him.

Kind of like an erection only she’s a girl so she didn’t get one you sicko.

I'd never felt this way about anyone before and I'd totally never felt this weird feeling that I'd met someone before but I had no idea where and i knew it was impassible because I'd freaking remember someone THAT hawt!

Foreshadowing! Again!

A girl sat next to him with long brown hair with her arms dripped over him like a freaking flesh-eating plant so i thought well whatevah, hes taken.

Straight-up one of the greatest similes I’ve ever seen. Like, I study English literature and I don’t think I’ve ever read a metaphor better than that one. I’m not joking, it’s brilliant.

She wasn't nearly as hawt as he was, she wasn't ugly though. I figured I was maybe prettier then her. I never really saw myself as beautiful but i'd guessed from thinks others had said, plus this girl wasn't great looking but anyways I'd never try to pilch with another girls' BF cause thats just low.

The modesty act might be a little more convincing if we hadn’t just read several paragraphs of Tiaa talking about how hot she is.

So I got up to leave the hall thinking I'd go and smoke some bald drugs in the locker room while no one was there.

Hey, what’s a “bald drug”? I go to a liberal arts college and I’ve watched the entirety of Breaking Bad multiple times, so you think I’d have heard of it.

As I waked over to he exit I couldn't help but notice the hawt pale guys musky eyes as they met mine.

Musk is a substance some male animals secrete for scent-marking purposes. The word comes from the Sanskrit for “scrotum.” Thought you all should know.

I locked away hurriedly. I smocked dope in the locker room for a bit then I wondered to my next class.

This bitch just hotboxed a locker room on her first day of school.

I bumped into someone in the corridor and my bocks fell everywhere! FRICK! FRICK! FRIIIICKK!

Remember that this is the beta-read version of the chapter.

"WTF!" I screamed loudly, "watch where your FREAKING going you asshole!" (i have anger problems)

So you know how self-insert characters, particularly Sues, often have self-proclaimed “anger issues”? I wanna talk about that, actually, because it’s a trope I see not only in fanfiction but in published fiction, and it honestly bugs me.

In real life, anger issues are a totally legitimate character flaw, and one that can have serious negative consequences in-universe. A character with a bad temper may make rash decisions, screw up their relationships with others, have trouble holding down a job, get in trouble with the law, and so on; people who have anger problems are often mentally ill and/or traumatized, too, and the anger may be just the tip of the iceberg. Many morally ambiguous characters, well-written ones, have trouble with anger. There’s nothing wrong with this trope when it’s executed correctly.

In the hands of a less-than-competent writer, however, anger issues are the opposite of a problem, because the character’s show of anger will invariably cause others to back down or apologize and there will be no negative consequences. Writing a character who’s so sweet and charming that they always get their way has exactly the same effect, but as that trope falls out of style “anger issues” has taken its place and the authors who write these characters have no idea that they’re doing the same thing as the trope they thought they were avoiding.

Of course, this is the work of a troll, and the use of this trope is almost certainly intentional, but there are way too many authors who employ it unironically as a way to give a “flaw” to a character that even they realize is bordering on unrealistic.

"I'm so so sorry" he said in a voice like wet heaven "please forgive me my lady”

Author’s so fond of weird phrases that I have no idea whether or not “wet heaven” is intended as innuendo.

It was the hawt pale guy!

Dun dun dunnnn!

Next chapter

#forbidenfruit.mst #fandom:twilight #halfworld.mst

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bevisims · 7 years

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Tl;Dr: Basically an about me and the foundation of my blog.

I feel the need to make a post like this because I’m very reserved, which I’ll get into, but honestly I would genuinely enjoy making friends within the simblr community. 1.) Hi, my name is Mary and I’m new to the simblr community in regards to having an actual blog and making edits. But before I would just lurk and reblog which I still do anyway so. 2.) I don’t make cc or mods whatsoever, kudos to people who do though, I can’t for shit even though I never attempted to.. cough ANYWAY 3.) I made this blog because a friend of mine who initially introduced me to Tumblr thought my edits were good enough to make a blog. I honestly didn’t think my stuff was good enough to post, I still don’t, but I’m glad I did. I’m not being modest, I use apps from my tablet to edit because adobe photoshop is just…I’m just better with apps, so my stuff can be rough around the edges. But I’m genuinely thankful that I actually grew the areolas to do this, this community is wonderful and so inspiring and I just love it. 4.) I was introduced to the sims by my cousin when I was 8, and I remember begging my mom nonstop but she said no because it was for teens and I was only like 8 or 9. BUT, this still amazes me to this day, I was blessed to get every single sims 2 game for free through my sister because at the time she had this job where she cleaned abandoned houses of people who were evicted and just left their stuff, and most of the time she would bring the stuff home to us and so yeah! And by the time I was 11 my mom bought me ts3. 5.) A little more about me, as previously mentioned my name is Mary and I’m 17, I edit and reblog strictly mm. I’m nothing special that is all my blog is haha. I’m homeschooled and I plan on going to college for astronomy or biology (my passion lies mostly in the stars though, where my head is 24/7). I play the violin and I’m currently learning French, I have absolutely no pets but I’m the most dog crazed, reptile whatever crazed, I will pet your shit m8. My love for animals probably came from not having any as a kid if I’m honest; anyway, school resumes in August and I struggle with social anxiety, so I’m pushing myself next school year so I’ll be busy(With things like working to get into Stanford, my instrument, working on internships/jobs, I’ll have many more class and I’ll be learning French again this year, AND DRIVING AHHHH) but I won’t abandon this blog, I’ll try to be consistent. I’m fairly new but I’m not new to learning withdrawal, I get really depressed and self conscious if I’m not productive or stimulating my mind in some way; but with editing sims, especially since it’s summer is stimulating enough as is. I’ve learned quite alot and maybe when I’m more confident I’ll edit from a computer instead of my iPad. Also I have sickle cell diease and I go to the hospital at least once a month, and my pain is constantly there so be patient with me. Also everybody who plays sims knows that you play for 30 decades and then you don’t feel like playing for 5,000 years, it’s…it’s a cycle, my depression doesn’t help with this either. 6.) Gosh everyone is so talented in their own way in this community. Okay I’m done gawking, promise. 7.) I try to be wcif friendly (I didn’t even know what that meant until I looked it up a month ago lmao) but it’s hard because I already had cc in my game before starting this blog and my mod folder isn’t the most organized, my stuff is merged so. But recently I’ve been reblogging whatever I download to my game or at least I intend to put in my game. 8.) And finally, honestly I was thinking about posting something within the lines of this for awhile but I only have like 11 followers… including my sister, luv u tho.. so I didn’t want to be that guy, well girl. But honestly I love this community and I couldn’t be more blessed to be able to have a working computer to play from and screenshot and a device to edit from. That might seem stupid and trivial, but I’m trying to find where I belong, I’m an overthinker and I am quite naive and I just try to see the beauty/blessing in everything. 9.) Do I have another blog or a main blog? Cookios is my first and primary blog that I mostly sh**post on…yeah Rami is my photo……Yes I see a therapist. 10.) Why did I decide to name my simblr BeviSims? My last name is Beaver and I lack creativity, something close to BeviSims was taken and I settled for this but I forgot what form of my title was taken. 11.) My most popular post? My Rami malek edit probably, also my favorite and not JUST because that boi is finer than wine itself but because he has interesting features so it was fun to make him! Especially since I strive to diversify my sims. 12.) Will I post selfies on this blog or make a sim-self? I will most definitely make a Sims me in the near near future, eee I’m excited!! As for selfies, probably not we’ll see. THANK YOU! 😘

In the future I hope to participate in many of these creative tags, like the song tag where you make a sim based on that song. I like that, it helps especially if you’re trying to find a reason to get up and edit or if you want to but you just don’t have anything to work from. (Sorry if some of it doesn’t make sense or if there are an unbelievable amount of typos, I will go through this in the morning from the computer and organize it and proofread but I was anxious to get this out, even if nobody reads it, I’m glad I did it.)

#about me #sims #simblr #tumblr #sorry for the tldr #love this community #maxis match #ts4

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