I was out with a friend tonight doing one of my fave things. Reading the backs of romance novels aloud. Found this gem.
This is honestly the most wild sounding romance novel I have ever seen and thought it might brighten someone’s day.
OK FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON’T REALIZE, SANDRA HILL IS THE WOMAN WHO WROTE “ROUGH AMD READY” ANOTHER EROTIC VIKING NOVEL. SOME OF THE MORE MEMORABLE QUOTES BEING:
“As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.”
“Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.”
“Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it.”
YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE I HAVE READ THIS TO AT COLLEGE. ONE GUY COMPLETELY LOST IT FOR LIKE 10 MINUTES AFTER HEARING THE PHRASE “DICK ANEURYSM.”
@newrageinc what the actual fuck did I just read….
I’m the asshole author that’s going to get published, and create multiple different fan fiction accounts on multiple fan fiction websites and write fan fiction for my own books, mixed in with a few other things as well, so that when I get somewhat noticed, I can talk to my fans and be like, “Oh, I write ‘fan fiction’ about my own book. But you have to guess which one is me” and watch them all go absolutely batshit crazy trying to find me.
Bonus: Claim everything you’ve written is canon, watch the fans scramble and debate over which stories are yours so they know for sure what’s canon.
This would actually be good because imagine how many annoying shipping wars will get resolved because there *might* be a “technically* canon fanfic AU out there of it.
“You can’t ship that because it’s not canon!”
“Actually, there are about 80 different fanfics of this ship and one of them just might be written by me 😉 But you never know :o)”
This is quite possibly the most unfortunate thing to ever happen to him.
Neji is no stranger to unfortunate things; having a dead father and living under the thumb of his hyperstrict uncle have made him nearly immune to the rest of life’s discomforts. Nearly, because there are in fact two things that deeply unsettle him: getting his long hair caught in zippers, and Hinata’s new physics tutor.
No girl has the right to have such a ridiculously disarming smile. It’s not sweet, like the way Hinata tentatively curls the corners of her lips in an innocent show of happiness. Nor is it the jaded, cynical smirk that Hanabi wears. No, this is worse.
This girl, this Tenten smiles at him like she knows all his secrets. Like there’s a joke that he’s not in on and it’s about him. It shines in her eyes too, a wicked and mischievious game that he doesn’t know how to play. It’s infuriating, she’s infuriating, and Neji won’t stand for it.
He has to kiss her.
It’s a horrifying conclusion and he doesn’t quite know what to make of his resolution. He doesn’t even know her; they exchange polite greetings and occasionally he’s present for Hinata’s tutoring sessions. That’s the extent of their relationship, and it’s positively mortifying how much he thinks of her.
It’s crazy to suggest that there’s anything there just from the way she smiles when he sees him. And yet “Hi Neji!” plays on infinite loop inside his head, until his thoughts warp her voice into breathy sighs. He swears she knows. The vixen can read his thoughts somehow and it makes him want her more.
There comes a day when Hinata is forced to end her tutoring session early, pressed into a social obligation by her father. As it’s only for the “main” family to attend, Neji is left to escort their guest to the door while his cousin leaves to get ready. This duty would be slightly less onerous if Tenten weren’t wearing yoga pants that fit like a second skin, and if the large hoodie covering down to her midthigh did anything to dissuade his unruly imagination.
Neji sighs silently to himself, long-suffering after spending weeks in proximity to this girl with her secretive smiles and her miles-long legs. If it were a mere physical attraction he could easily ignore it, but it’s much harder to pretend he isn’t interested when she asks about his martial arts training and speaks to him like he’s a goddamn normal person and not an untouchable elite.
“So…”
She pauses outside the door and he sees it, that saucy grin hiding at the corner of her mouth. Neji stares, forgets polite conversation, and she laughs. Laughs. The sound is wonderful, and Neji knows he’s ruined for all other girls for the rest of his days.
“Can I kiss you?” he blurts out, and suddenly he is thirteen again, awkward and gangly and oh god he wants to unravel her hair from those twin buns she’s imprisoned it in.
If she responds with words, Neji doesn’t hear them because Tenten lifts onto her toes and slants her mouth against his. She’s warm and tastes like cinnamon and vanilla, that smile of hers pressed against his lips, and Neji thinks that this must be the end of all things. Nothing can be or will ever be better than kissing Tenten, which must be why she’s laughing again–
She pulls away, eyes shining with amusement as she untangles her fingers from his hair. Her chest shakes with silent chuckles, and Neji frowns with the distinct disgruntlement that accompanies the deflation of his ego.
“What’s so funny?” he grumbles, looking away.
“Your technique could use some work,” she chides gently, and Neji’s face flames red.
Never in his eighteen years has he been told his performance is subpar. Well, his uncle is the exception, but Neji is convinced that’s the man’s purpose in life anyway. But for a girl to tell him so, it’s unfathomable, impossible, ridiculous.
“Then tutor me,” he demands. She’s already upended his world anyway.
Tenten smirks, already tugging him down for more. “I thought you’d never ask.”
This is quite possibly the most unfortunate thing to ever happen to him.
Neji is no stranger to unfortunate things; having a dead father and living under the thumb of his hyperstrict uncle have made him nearly immune to the rest of life’s discomforts. Nearly, because there are in fact two things that deeply unsettle him: getting his long hair caught in zippers, and Hinata’s new physics tutor.
No girl has the right to have such a ridiculously disarming smile. It’s not sweet, like the way Hinata tentatively curls the corners of her lips in an innocent show of happiness. Nor is it the jaded, cynical smirk that Hanabi wears. No, this is worse.
This girl, this Tenten smiles at him like she knows all his secrets. Like there’s a joke that he’s not in on and it’s about him. It shines in her eyes too, a wicked and mischievious game that he doesn’t know how to play. It’s infuriating, she’s infuriating, and Neji won’t stand for it.
He has to kiss her.
It’s a horrifying conclusion and he doesn’t quite know what to make of his resolution. He doesn’t even know her; they exchange polite greetings and occasionally he’s present for Hinata’s tutoring sessions. That’s the extent of their relationship, and it’s positively mortifying how much he thinks of her.
It’s crazy to suggest that there’s anything there just from the way she smiles when he sees him. And yet “Hi Neji!” plays on infinite loop inside his head, until his thoughts warp her voice into breathy sighs. He swears she knows. The vixen can read his thoughts somehow and it makes him want her more.
There comes a day when Hinata is forced to end her tutoring session early, pressed into a social obligation by her father. As it’s only for the “main” family to attend, Neji is left to escort their guest to the door while his cousin leaves to get ready. This duty would be slightly less onerous if Tenten weren’t wearing yoga pants that fit like a second skin, and if the large hoodie covering down to her midthigh did anything to dissuade his unruly imagination.
Neji sighs silently to himself, long-suffering after spending weeks in proximity to this girl with her secretive smiles and her miles-long legs. If it were a mere physical attraction he could easily ignore it, but it’s much harder to pretend he isn’t interested when she asks about his martial arts training and speaks to him like he’s a goddamn normal person and not an untouchable elite.
“So…”
She pauses outside the door and he sees it, that saucy grin hiding at the corner of her mouth. Neji stares, forgets polite conversation, and she laughs. Laughs. The sound is wonderful, and Neji knows he’s ruined for all other girls for the rest of his days.
“Can I kiss you?” he blurts out, and suddenly he is thirteen again, awkward and gangly and oh god he wants to unravel her hair from those twin buns she’s imprisoned it in.
If she responds with words, Neji doesn’t hear them because Tenten lifts onto her toes and slants her mouth against his. She’s warm and tastes like cinnamon and vanilla, that smile of hers pressed against his lips, and Neji thinks that this must be the end of all things. Nothing can be or will ever be better than kissing Tenten, which must be why she’s laughing again–
She pulls away, eyes shining with amusement as she untangles her fingers from his hair. Her chest shakes with silent chuckles, and Neji frowns with the distinct disgruntlement that accompanies the deflation of his ego.
“What’s so funny?” he grumbles, looking away.
“Your technique could use some work,” she chides gently, and Neji’s face flames red.
Never in his eighteen years has he been told his performance is subpar. Well, his uncle is the exception, but Neji is convinced that’s the man’s purpose in life anyway. But for a girl to tell him so, it’s unfathomable, impossible, ridiculous.
“Then tutor me,” he demands. She’s already upended his world anyway.
Tenten smirks, already tugging him down for more. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Ink Child Writing 