The fanfiction, unearthed by Brooklyn Magazine, is called “Lena Dunham’s D*ck – m4w – 26 (L train).”It’s written as a really long, really messed up Craiglist missed connection post from the perspective of an ex-boyfriend of Lena Dunham from college, who broke up with Dunham before Girls became a hit. The character is so upset by the success of Girls that he can’t get it up anymore when he tries to sleep with another woman.
Don’t like where this is going? Yeah, me neither.
What’s even more disconcerting is that the fanfic comes from a guy named Harris Danow, who works (or worked?) as a writer’s assistant on HBO’s The Newsroom. You can read the entire thing here (don’t. Seriously. It’s not worth it), or you can read the excerpted portion below, which is what happens after the character goes home after failing to get it up with “Babyunicorn85.”
Just remember, though, that your brain will not be able to unsee this after you read it. I’m warning you:
When I got home I tossed and turned on my futon. I was tired but couldn’t sleep. I thought back to the day we broke up at PS1. Why had I been such an a**hole?
I gave in to the insomnia and reached for my laptop. I needed to see your show for myself. I found it on BitTorrent and downloaded an episode–the one where you visit your parents in Michigan and go out with a guy from high school. It was funny and sad and real, and way better than I wanted to admit. And way better than anything I could do.
Near the end was a scene where you and the high school guy f*ck. Your pear-shaped body was totally exposed. Seeing you stirred something inside me. I paused the show and stared. I remembered my hand on your t*ts, as I put my hand on my c*ck. I kept my eyes on the screen and stroked. Blood rushed and I swelled.
It was finally happening.
But seeing you naked again wasn’t enough. I needed more. I thought about what BabyUnicorn85 had said earlier. It’s like Lena Dunham grew a d*ck and the whole world lined up to suck it.
And that’s what I imagined. You with a d*ck. Not a strap on, but you–small t*ts, soft curves, and all–with a big, hard, d*ck.
Only I wasn’t there to suck it. I was bent over and spread open. Ready to be fu**ed.
It worked. I’d never been so hard. I stroked and stroked until I could cut diamonds. I pictured you finishing inside me, and finished at home on my futon. Then I collapsed and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
I’ve thought a lot about that fantasy. Submitting wasn’t just sexual–it was cathartic. I’m pretty sure I released a lot more than c*m that night.
Anyhow, I’m sorry this is such a long email. It’d be great to hear from you. And if you’re interested, I’d love to send you my play.
I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO UNSEE IT. DIDN’T I TELL YOU?
Maybe next time I post some weirdo’s Lena Dunham fanfic you’ll listen.
(via)
