Jesus H. Jumped up Christ. Roll your sleeves up, put it away (what ever it is) and take a deep breath.
First off, I think Wee!Spike has been usurped. USURPED, I TELL YOU! "[The main character] inspected just about every inch of the house, even looking into showers and closets incase (sic) the small teen had somehow gotten himself stranded." He should have looked inside his shoes! I bet he was there. Or in his butt. That's where Wee!Spike would go. (I'm just saying.)
The "That must be some freaking AWESOME book!" Category
"only when a pair of mismatched hands found themselves around his waist did he dare look away from his book"
When I see mismatched hands, I start looking for stitches. Because if there aren't stitches, you have a zombie situation, methinks.
The "I don't...under- What?" Category:
"tracing his ass with the left, flesh fingers"
OH! Mismatched. Clearly we have a Prince situation on our hands. Everyone needs to re-read their Cyberdyne manuals. [/shameless self pimp]
Not a good descriptor, part a million:
Part a million and one:
"slimy, pink muscle."
SLIMY IS NOT A GOOD SEX WORD. And not just because I think of Oscar's buddy. Not just for that reason.
"skort" (I mean, pick one. Sheesh. It's the mullet of clothes wear.)
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. ...in the same story.
"[The main character] let out a sharp hiss and wriggled, whimpering as the small parasite chimera pushed passed his entrance. [...] The result was a freakish worm that wheedled free of its home, fleshy skin covered in a natural, harmless slime of sorts, and obsessively curling around its creator’s hand.
It was long, about one yard, but sort of small, no wider than three fingers. Edward petted the grotesque figure affectionately, as a mother would her newborn baby, and its mouth-opened agape as a result, making an odd gurgling and clicking noise at its master. It was a parasite, made with one main animal in particular, the tapeworm, though Edward had to adjust its diet somewhat since homunculi didn’t need to eat. Instead it fed on semen, meticulously Envy’s semen."
#1. Um... *points to self* Spent a significant portion of my Bio degree studying parasites. I'm having vomit issues about now.
#2. Petting it affectionately? And it COOS. Aww, it's just a widdle baby! *stabs people randomly, such is my frustration*
#3. It eats SEMEN. Well, of course it does, silly boots! (Someone studied their Paracelsus!)
We also have a constant reminder of how much time is passing in this story, as the protag is doing laundry. They started having sex at 15 minutes (ferocious kissing where there's no breathing, a blow job, and a tapeworm emerging with his top hat and spats singing "Hello my baby, hello my darlin', hello my rag time gaaaaaaaaaal!") and they've finished, are now discussing the sex they had and also the tapeworm's eating habits (gluten-free?) It's now 6 minutes. Aww, yeah. That's some serious lovin'.
In the "At least the author knows this much" category:
"But one must admit, feeling a cock being shoved up your ass – without any ‘preparation’ whatsoever – hurt like fucking hell."
The "Adjusting My Monocle" Category:
"It felt wonderful, as sex always did, and both parties often pondered over that fact"
Party One: Party Two?
Party Two: Yes?
Party One: I would care to ruminate on the pleasures of the act of humping. The two-backed beast, if you will.
Party Two: And I will!
Party One: Have you noticed, Old Boy, that sex is, well, I'd say it's pleasurable.
Party Two: Indubitably! I have noticed something similar, myself. Gracious! Do you believe other people have discovered this sensation?
Party One: Hmm, interesting, interesting. I dare say that a few must have done so.
Party Two: It is wonderful splitting your meaty rose with my steely shaft. Quite a lovely feeling, really, the ribbed - for my pleasure - walls clenching like your mother's jaw when she is confronted with our love...
Party One: And I, Party Two, quite enjoy the sensation of being impaled, ripped open, unprepared, punctured, drilled, stuck, gouged, spelunked, poked, prodded, embedded, and esteemed by your love salami. When I am rent asunder by your tapeworm of good feelings, spewing forth its leaky, weeping, drooling elixir, it's as if I am discovering a secret Michelangelo hidden away from prying eyes.
Party Two: Mmm, yes. Yes. I say, how long do you think she can keep this up?
Party One: *adjusts monocle* I believe she's cracked enough to go on forever. Let us retire for tea and biscuits, and continue pondering sex, shall we?
Party Two: Oh, good show! Do, let's!
And she has in her A/M: "Sorry it took so long, but when my beta refused to write back I decided to go ahead and post it anyway" Y HALO THAR CLUE. When your beta won't even CONTACT you again... You shouldn't be posting.
My New Motto:
In an Avenger Fic (not that the fandom matters, it's just- well.) we have a character shrinking to a few inches high (AHEM) and after climbing into her friend's martini, lands on said friend's nose. And the friend can OF COURSE smell her "arousal." (Um, when you think Belvedere Vodka smells of arousal, you have a drinking problem. Because vodka smells of safety and mother, duh.) The full-size friend is also impressed by Wee!Jan's tits. WHY? The full-size friend opens her mouth; natch, the Wee!Jan falls on her tongue: "The taste was magnificent as Jan ground her cunt against the taste buds."
*head desk times twenty*
While that's going on, She-Hulk and Tigra are bumping uglies. Literally.
"it drove She-Hulk wild. She embraced Tigra, pumping their pussies together with such force that for Tigra it was almost like having a cock inside her."
And yes, a man wrote that, just as you'd expect. If your cunt lips are so big that they can be mistaken for a dick, you need surgery.
BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE. Back to our Liliputian fuck button: "[Ms. Full-Size] gathered her will long enough to pick up a little umbrella from an empty drink and push it inside Jan’s miniature pussy"
O_O (is this some slant rhyme-type situation for cocktails?)
"Tigra bit down on She-Hulk’s labia and Jen fisted Tigra. Wanda came, a female ejaculation that waterboarded Jan. Jan backed up, shoving more of the drink umbrella inside herself, and came as well."
Now, I ask you. WATERBOARDED. Also: BIT DOWN on labia? Jesus wept. Also #2: how amazing that they all came at once! JUST LIKE IN REAL LIFE. If I didn't know for (mostly) sure that the author was seriously trying to write hot femme sex... WATERBOARDED. I'm using that one from now on. (After all, there's possibly some heavy borrowing from my parody fic, so *hands*)
Oh, say. You know what you need today? YOU NEED NON-CON/BDSM CARE BEAR YULETIDE FIC. <-- yuletide. "Merry Fucking Chriiiiiistmaaaaaaaas, to yooooooou!" [/Mr. Garrison] (Note: I don't normally MSTK crack fic, because it's MEANT to be ridiculous, but: it's CARE BEAR NON-CON. And she got an absolute load of comments of love, many saying how "hot" they got by reading. Hot? o_0)
"Grumpy Bear awoke, suspended."
It all goes horribly wrong from here. (By which I mean hilarious. And wrong. So very wrong.)
"Slave Bear speaks," said a voice.
"Slave Bear is tied to the rape rack," said another.
"What the - Funshine, that's you! I can hear you! What the hell are you doing? Wish Bear?"
For his pains, Grumpy Bear received a hard whack to the face with what looked like a long stick: it was pink, with rainbow decals."
I now will refer to all rapists as "Funshine Bear." It just takes the ugliness out, you know? Man, and I thought I could write some crack... READ ON, FRIENDS.
"Grumpy's blue-tinted ass jerked like a cheerleader attached to an electrode as the riding crop came down on him, over and over, shrieking like a gagged banshee and getting glitter on his tongue as he arched into the beating. What was worst was the silence: only Tender Heart's caught, ragged breath."
Find a happy place... find a happy place... find a happy place... TENDER HEART has RAGGED BREATH (and awkward sentence structure.) Because... he's going to fuck Grumpy Bear. See, kids? It pays to quit your bitching. Otherwise, to the rape rack!
"before Grumpy could comment, felt his small stub of a tail being lifted up: he made no sound, eyes huge and round, as he felt something being slathered on his anus."
AUGH! Care Bears do not have anuses!! TEDDY BEARS. (See? This is what leads to Panda romance. I'm just saying.)
"There was a horrible, sticky warm feeling starting to dribble into his crack and matt his fur: Swift Heart, with a bottle of maple syrup and revenge in his heart." Okay, you know what? REVENGE IN HIS HEART has me laughing my ass off. I always knew he was a tetchy bastard. Swift = quick of temper, me thinks.
Words I Never Would Have Associated EVER With The Care Bears:
- cock gobbler (a personal fave)
- fuck stick
- felch toy
- care-channel (his... asshole)
- whorish nipples (let's face it: only the My Pretty Ponies have virginal nipples)
- Tender Heart came in a wash of small red hearts all over his back.
- Friend Bear jizzed sunflowers into his eyes
- fuck beatings
*starts a slow clap*
Until a Kermit/Fozzie Bear/Surly Guys In The Balcony/Miss Piggie/John Denver orgy of horse fucking, Eagle fisting, murdering the Swedish Chef and splashing in the blood, gang-banging Gonzo and eating his chickens is written, I think I have the most minute sliver of my childhood left intact. (Don't even act like you would read that fic. You'd be horrified, but you'd read it.)
In one of the most bizarre excerpts of HP fic I've ever read (and I've read the Lucius drilling a hole in Draco's head and "making love to it" fic) we have Dobby, wearing gleaming elven armor, as one would, chainsaw affixed at his groin, tearing Ron (who is an astronaut, natch) apart so Harry can eat him, starting with the eyeballs. As one would. They're in space, and Harry - an angel - commands meteors to smash into Hogwarts, killing everyone, as one would if they could command meteors
Harry then jumps on another meteor, pulls out his guitar named "FUCKSTICK" (all in caps) and decapitates Dobby, stuffing the house elf's head inside his body cavity, as one would. Dumbledore, who obviously is encased in cursed mummy armor and trapped on Moon Base then commands via vision:
"Harry, you must rock the fuck out."
Indeed, Harry. Now, insert some Bowie/Ziggy Stardust music in your head and sing "Harry played.... Guitar!!!"
But wait! We're not done. Harry does rock the fuck out, as one would. In fact, the word "fuck" is prominently featured in this fic written by a male junior high school student (of course.¹)
"Then he used the force to send the flaming debris of Mercury into Venus, killing the fuck out of it and making every vagina in the galaxy explode, and every booby sang the glories of our galaxy's past.
Harry then flew his meteor through space, punching astral vampires in half with his fists encased in fuck fire and throwing their ruined heads into the past where they bit cavemen on mars so that history changed and now there are vampire cavemen on mars."
NOW there are vampire cavemen on mars. Before were just cavemen on the Red Planet and zombie firemen on Uranus. Maybe not on your anus, but on mine. I'm just saying. <--is also 12. Guys, that passage may be the most heavy metal fucking HP fic ever written by a 13 year old boy, pissed off at his Gran for giving him a collared baby blue t-shirt to have his picture taken in. Why don't his parents understand that Cannibal Corpse is BAD ASS MUSIC?!?! ROCK THE FUCK OUT!!
lml *__* lml
(Fists encased in fuck fire? I think that's The Clap, and you should get some ointment on that, stat.)
A final vision from Dumbledore, who is having tea with Christopher Walken, the President of Pangea. (a world of what the fuck, y'all. A WORLD.)
"Care to have tea, Harry?"
"Tell the president to wait. I have some vampire cavemen to slay."
The END??! I certainly hope not! If you can find subsequent chapters, LINK ME, zomg. I'm biting my nails, wondering about the fate of Harry, FUCKSTICK, and the vampire cavemen on mars(sic)!
And finally, FINALLY we have some "You Know You're A Furry When..." bullet points, found online:
- The section you most frequent in the video store is the children's section. (me: cries)
- You know what FurryMUCK is. (??)
- ... and you know the IP and port number by heart. (Dude, I'm googling it now. WHAT?! It's like a virtual dog park! *head desk* THERE IS A DAYCARE for BABY FURS. No. NO!!)
- You buy wildlife magazines and 'National Geographic' to get character ideas for your drawings (what ever happened to jerking off to the natives' bottle boobs? It's a classic for a reason, people)
- You socialize with the pets rather than your relatives at a family gathering. (me: I want to save all the family pets ever, now.)
- Someone says "Oooh, what a piece of tail!", and you spend several confused seconds looking for it.
- You turn around whenever you close a door so that you don't get your tail caught (me: STOP IT.)
- You 'yiff' in a movie theatre (or other public place)
NO. You do NOT do that! *smacks furry across the nose with a rolled up newspaper* Or, say... you marry your horse and imagine her foal is YOUR CENTAUR. Geh.
Oh my goodness, I am EXHAUSTED after all of that. I need to watch Teletubbies or something to get it out of my head. (Oh my god- you know there is Teletubbies fic out there. Dammit, I'm going to have to find it.)
¹ I have since learned that the author may *not* be JH aged, which... wow. They're either in HS or college. AND THEY MEANT THIS STORY. O_O Awesome.