From: Inviso | #0101. Harry Potter
2. Naruto
3. Twilight
4. Inuyasha
5. Glee
...Glee?
Really?
The site is predominantly used by females, you'll find ample reasoning why fangirls have such a bad rep on there. Twilight/Glee is something I can tolerate, when they start writing erotic tetris fics, thats when I draw the line.
WARNING: OFFENSIVE TETRIS EROTICISM
What once seemed new and interesting became, as is typical, sterile and tedious. The L-Piece's vibrant life of purple, blue, orange, green dipped into a monotone. L-Piece believed she felt, nay, believed she knew that this experience was unique to her. But she was not the first, not the last. Nonetheless, this dulling of experience was profound to little L-Piece.
More profound, however, was her late-adolescent discovery of her maker. She was but three blocks away from landing.
Throughout her brief and insignificant but subjectively powerful existence, a God-Thing was in total control of her every move. Her every twist, her every turn. He was solely responsible, or so she thought, for all of the ill in her being. This outsider, this manipulator was forcing her all too quickly through her so-called "life" for one moment.
She was two blocks away from landing.
But this was not two blocks away from "landing". She was two blocks away from her destiny. The loss of L-Piece's virginity, as she was soon to find, the only purpose the Programmer gave for her existence. L-Piece was nothing but a sex object.
And not a very good one at that.
The harsh inadequacy of her former life returned unabashedly. "Too little blocks to put here. Damn. One too many to put here. **** L-Pieces, man. I guess I'll just put it here. I hate Tetris." She saw Him now to be a malevolent God-Thing, rife with degrading words too. "It". If this were poorly produced pornography or drunken role-play, L-Piece might have been turned on. Alas, it was not. It was her life.
The loss of her innocence was approaching-one block.
It was coming. It was imminent.
She was afraid.
Gone.
Thus it was gone, as two squares rubbed under her and she straddled what was left of a long piece. A nearly inaudible moan of resolution emitted from the L-Piece's squares. The waves, the waves of primal, pained, forever-anticipated pleasured carved through her virtual being. She was carried out of her shell. Escaped were her adolescent fears and disappointments, if only for moments, in theLandofTetrOrgasms.
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Smurf, the cream of Sonic fanboyism