weirdes fanfictions on fanfiction.net

Dusty

Tone deaf
I went to school with a lad who spent his evenings writing wrestling (WWF, WWE? whatever) fan fiction. No one else had the remotest interest in wrestling because we were a: 16 years old and b: country bumpkins living in the depths of Dorset. So he was pretty isolated in his passion. This was the mid-90's but he was driven by an early online community of like-minded people. Bulletin boards? It was before I realised the internet could be used to communicate with others anyway.

Nevertheless it bled over into his schoolwork, and any English project he could twist into his fanfiction he would do so. As he progressed, the fanfiction essentially turned into homoerotic soft porn, and I think it culminated in his parents being called in and a ban on any wrestling-themed creative writing.

I know he then turned into a massive goth and vanished... I like to think he's still writing it 25 years later. That the Undertaker is still grinding his hips against Randy Savage in the corner of the ring.
 

Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
I went to school with a lad who spent his evenings writing wrestling (WWF, WWE? whatever) fan fiction. No one else had the remotest interest in wrestling because we were a: 16 years old and b: country bumpkins living in the depths of Dorset. So he was pretty isolated in his passion. This was the mid-90's but he was driven by an early online community of like-minded people. Bulletin boards? It was before I realised the internet could be used to communicate with others anyway.

Nevertheless it bled over into his schoolwork, and any English project he could twist into his fanfiction he would do so. As he progressed, the fanfiction essentially turned into homoerotic soft porn, and I think it culminated in his parents being called in and a ban on any wrestling-themed creative writing.

I know he then turned into a massive goth and vanished... I like to think he's still writing it 25 years later. That the Undertaker is still grinding his hips against Randy Savage in the corner of the ring.
Amazing. Swap out wrestlers for ninjas and it's basically real ultimate power.
 

martin

----
Around 1999/2000 (?) there used to be a forum of (mainly American) women writing lurid fantasies about Adam Ant, called 'Silk and Leather'. Almost every single story started: "I had flown to London, England on holiday..." and then led to Adam Ant bumping into the author outside Buckingham Palace, or crashing into them on a scooter and apologising, or chatting them up in Camden (which stank of fish due to its legendary fish markets, apparently) and asking if they wanted to go out for an ale, etc - and then ended with them having Jackie Collins-style sex in the hotel. There was also a small subforum dedicated to the bass player who wasn't Kevin Mooney.

I submitted a few myself, with stupid plots, but the forumites were very supportive of each others' efforts and took guest appearances by Idi Amin in their stride.
 

Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
Around 1999/2000 (?) there used to be a forum of (mainly American) women writing lurid fantasies about Adam Ant, called 'Silk and Leather'. Almost every single story started: "I had flown to London, England on holiday..." and then led to Adam Ant bumping into the author outside Buckingham Palace, or crashing into them on a scooter and apologising, or chatting them up in Camden (which stank of fish due to its legendary fish markets, apparently) and asking if they wanted to go out for an ale, etc - and then ended with them having Jackie Collins-style sex in the hotel. There was also a small subforum dedicated to the bass player who wasn't Kevin Mooney.

I submitted a few myself, with stupid plots, but the forumites were very supportive of each others' efforts and took guest appearances by Idi Amin in their stride.
Reminds me of the infamous Kriss Akabusi sex stories.

"Mr Akabusi, please come in" said the secretary as she adjusted her horn rimmed glasses and felt the sudden rush of blood to her clunge.

Akabusi strode into the room like a Titan with a clown face. His eyes were drawn to the secretary's tight black pencil skirt and loose white blouse, through which he could see a straining white bra and within that a pair of massive bristols.

"I've come to fix your pipes" announced Kriss with his deep barotone timbre filling the room like spunk filling a vagina after after a ten year prison sentence.

The secretary quickly sat on the desk and unhooked her tight Croydon facelift hairdo unleashing waves and waves of lush brown hair.

Akubusi dropped his dungerees and let his throbbing member fall to the ground. As he spied the secretary's glistening axe wound his cock stood to attention quicker than a Chelsea Pensioner at the Cenotaph.

He then banged her. And banged her. And banged her. Until the secretary was like a floppy doll covered with spunk.

As Akubusi wiped his now flacid python on some company stationery he whispered "Awooga" to the naked secretary and patted her on the fanny.

The End
 

sufi

lala
What were you hoping for?
To meet someone new and enjoy a few drinks.

First impressions?
He wouldnt tell me his name or take his hood off

What did you talk about?
Living through the death of rave, abandoned London, our drinks of choice (tequila), university nostalgia, hauntology, climate change, what we were reading, past dates.

Any awkward moments?
Nothing but

Good table manners?
Well, we only had a coffee table, but yes.
 

IdleRich

IdleRich
I went to school with a lad who spent his evenings writing wrestling (WWF, WWE? whatever) fan fiction. No one else had the remotest interest in wrestling because we were a: 16 years old and b: country bumpkins living in the depths of Dorset. So he was pretty isolated in his passion. This was the mid-90's but he was driven by an early online community of like-minded people. Bulletin boards? It was before I realised the internet could be used to communicate with others anyway.

Nevertheless it bled over into his schoolwork, and any English project he could twist into his fanfiction he would do so. As he progressed, the fanfiction essentially turned into homoerotic soft porn, and I think it culminated in his parents being called in and a ban on any wrestling-themed creative writing.

I know he then turned into a massive goth and vanished... I like to think he's still writing it 25 years later. That the Undertaker is still grinding his hips against Randy Savage in the corner of the ring.
Fantastic. Or nightmarish, I dunno. I think I mentioned before that WWF essentially ruined my adolescence as I was the only person in my tiny village within about five years of my age who wasn't completely obsessed with it. All the people I had to pretend to like and associate with used to talk about nothing else, I mean NOTHING else. I honestly believe that there was a period of about five years during which they never willingly discussed any other topic. I remember saying to my friend Mark once "I do like Gavin and Duncan but all they ever talk about is wrestling" and Mark replied "Yeah, they always talk about wrestling, in fact they always talk about the evil wrestlers, but I like the good ones such as...." and then he proceeded to expand on his feelings about the so-called good guys of wrestling in extreme and excruciating detail. This wasn't a joke on his part or some sort of conversational device, he simply thought that that was a reasonable response to what I had said and that - as wrestling was the only possible thing that anyone could talk about - the thing I was taking issue with about the others' conversation could not be wrestling in general, but must be the aspect of wrestling they discussed.
After this I realised it was hopeless, but as an experiment I repeated what had happened to Gavin and his reply was exactly as I knew it would be "Typical Mark, steering the direction of conversation towards good wrestlers like that... bad wrestlers are much more interesting of course....".
It wasn't just the constant talking about it, they had millions of videos and the figures - despite being 17 or 18 or whatever - which they used to play with and, arguably worst of all, they used to constantly practise their moves on you all the time, so you would just be walking along minding your own business and suddenly find yourself grabbed and thrown in the air and then down onto your head as someone shouted "suplex!" or "piledriver!" or whatever.
Mark in particular was devoted to it, when Wrestlemania was in London he skived off school and claimed that he had gone to the event, regaling everyone over the next few days with the details of each fight - who had won, how they had entered and what bizarre events had occurred to create new beefs or whatever - everyone knew he was totally lying but most of them let it entertain them for a few days until the event was actually on telly... except Gavin who countered with the claim that he had randomly rang US numbers saying "Who won Wrestlemania?" getting a few "fuck offs" and "Eh, what?" before being answered by a fellow enthusiast who had given him the full score, proving Mark a total liar beyond doubt.
Of course this was also utter bollocks but slightly more plausible simply cost Mark was famed. as a compulsive - not to say ridiculous - liar (one of his best moments - actually a fairly typical one really - was when he claimed to have got some girl pregnant and then, at a party, in front of a group of speechless schoolmates he enacted a number of horrifically tense phone calls to the doctor as she was in labour, pretending over the course of two or three hours to go through the highs and lows of the whole event as it was ok, then it wasn't and so on, finally ending in hysterical floods of tears as both girl and child died, conveniently tying up all the lose ends and concluding that particular saga of shite.... but I digress).
A few years ago I discovered that Duncan took it one stage further by bulking up from his puny self and actually having a number of "fights" on the UK wrestling circuit (which until then I never knew existed) under the name Gallows Man. He actually went on to become a primary school teacher and did write some children's books but I don't know if he ever wrote any wrestling fan fiction, if he did he didn't share it with me thank fuck. I'm pretty sure that neither Gavin or Mark did cos by that age neither of them could write.
On facebook I still see them discussing wrestling every now and again - well, not Mark, he drank himself to death last year - and it all comes flooding back. The other day my girlfriend and I were flicking through the TV - we have got a load of extra channels as part of the package we bought to get all the football matches for the Euros - and we found a channel with WWE or whatever it is called now, and, out of curiosity, having heard the horror stories from my youth she insisted we watched it for a few minutes, her growing amazement and disbelief as the insane and camp spectacle (compounded by an audience made up of faces on tv screens) unfolded in front of her eyes, was matched by my growing panic which I tried to mask with laughter, but I have to admit that by the time the insane novelty had worn off and she was bored enough to turn over, I was sweating and shivering and shrinking back to the bullied loner I had been back in the 90s.
 
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IdleRich

IdleRich
Around 1999/2000 (?) there used to be a forum of (mainly American) women writing lurid fantasies about Adam Ant, called 'Silk and Leather'. Almost every single story started: "I had flown to London, England on holiday..." and then led to Adam Ant bumping into the author outside Buckingham Palace, or crashing into them on a scooter and apologising, or chatting them up in Camden (which stank of fish due to its legendary fish markets, apparently)
Probably crashed cos they couldn't see through the pea-souper.
 

IdleRich

IdleRich
A few years ago I discovered that Duncan took it one stage further by bulking up from his puny self and actually having a number of "fights" on the UK wrestling circuit (which until then I never knew existed) under the name Gallows Man. He actually went on to become a primary school teacher and did write some children's books but I don't know if he ever wrote any wrestling fan fiction, if he did he didn't share it with me thank fuck.
Fucking hell, found some pics

GallowsMan1.jpg

GallowsMan2.jpg

I'm collecting DVDs of wrestling events I appeared on while they're still available.
Yesterday, I took delivery of the EWW events from Liverpool and Hastings from the spring tour in 2009.
It was great to finally see the whole of the events and enjoy them.
I was also pleasantly surprised; I was better than I remembered and looked better than I remembered too!

Apologies for the thread hijack @Mouxault, I was just so mesmerised and captivated by the sheer insanity of the bizarre world that these pictures reveal that I was simply unable to prevent myself sharing these pictures.... now, let us never speak of it again.
 

IdleRich

IdleRich

To get back on topic, this bit is bullshit

"All of the Russian people glare at his majestic throbbing penis. Shrek notices it, it is bigger than ever, Shrek starts taking off his clothes and eventually, all of Russia is in a huge orgy, over 150 million people all fucking"

But if you look at wikipedia, the population of Russia now is only just over 146 million people and it would have been considerably less when Stalin was alive. Even if you add in Shrek you get nowhere near to 150 million. It would have only taken him a few seconds to research that and he couldn't be bothered with the result that that glaring error jumped out at me like a sore thumb and really dragged me out of the story - a shame cos up to that point i had really been caught up in every twist and turn, totally absorbed in a narrative which, yes, could loosely be described as fan fiction, but which benefited from unusually strong sense of realism and from a depth of characterisation way beyond that I had become accustomed to in the genre.
 

woops

is not like other people
her growing amazement and disbelief as the insane and camp spectacle (compounded by an audience made up of faces on tv screens) unfolded in front of her eyes, was matched by my growing panic which I tried to mask with laughter, but I have to admit that by the time the insane novelty had worn off and she was bored enough to turn over, I was sweating and shivering and shrinking back to the bullied loner I had been back in the 90s.

This bit reads like @IdleRich fanfic
 
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