#clare edwards x reader

[vialviolence]

Degrassi Masterlist

a list of characters i write for in degrassi: the next generation

eli goldsworthy

clare edwards

manny santos

drew torres

fiona coyne

imogen moreno

[gossipgirliess]

Started With Jealousy

Pairing: Eli Goldsworthy x Fem!Reader

Characters: Eli Goldsworthy, Y/N L/N, Clare Edwards, Jake Martin, Fiona Coyne, Holly J Sinclair, Imogen Moreno, other students

Requested? Yes! This is my first request! Thank you for the idea, I haven’t been having any luck with coming up with ideas for imagines. This was requested by @fairyth0rns​ Thank you again for requesting this! I love writing for Degrassi so please request more stuff!

Summary: Clare is still hung up on Eli, even though she’s dating Jake. Y/N, Eli’s best friend, is jealous of the Edwards girl. While Eli is in the middle of a manic episode, he insults Y/N, leaving her hurt. Will Eli be able to get her to forgive him? Will he still have a chance with her? Read to find out!

Word Count: ? Sorry that it’s a little long, also sorry if there are any typos.

Warnings:  A couple curse words? Angst

Every night she found herself thinking “Why aren’t I good enough for him?”

You see, Y/N had feelings for someone. Someone who was her best friend. Someone who didn’t see her like that. That someone was Eli Goldsworthy.

“So anyway, she was totally being-Y/N? Hello? Y/N? Y/N/N?!”

“What, what?! Oh, my God, what?!”

“Did you hear a single word I said?” Fiona asked before Y/N sighed.

“No, sorry.” 

The two were at Y/N’s house, in her kitchen studying, while also eating take out. Holly J was supposed to be there as well, but she had a lot of homework to do.

“What’s wrong?” Fiona asked as she closed her text book.

“Nothing. It’s just-I just have a lot on my mind right now.” Y/N said as she closed her text book, as well.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m just so confused.”

Fiona’s eyebrows furrowed.

“About what?”

“Lots of things. School, feelings, life. Also-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Go back to feelings. Are you confused with your feelings for someone?” Fiona asked as she sat up.

“Yes, maybe, I don’t know. I think I like Eli.” Y/N said before Fiona’s eyes widended.

“You do?!”

“Yeah, I really do.”

The girls both squealed.

“Oh, my gosh! I knew it! Well, what’s stopping you?” Fiona asked before Y/N sighed.

“Clare.”

Eli and Clare dated, but Clare broke up with him. She soon began to date Jake, even though she wasn’t fully over Eli. Y/N was pretty positive that Eli wanted Clare back. But what she didn’t know was that Eli was trying to hide his feelings for her by thinking of ways to win Clare back.

“What’s Clare gonna do? She’s with Jake, remember?” Fiona said before Y/N nodded.

“I know. I’m just scared. If I tell him that I like him and he dosen’t like me back, that could ruin our friendship. It could make things awkward between us for the rest of our lives! And on top of that, I probably don’t stand a chance and he’s going to go back to Clare. And every time I look at Clare I think, ‘Why am I not good enough, but she is?’ ‘Why doesn’t he look at me the way he looks at her?’” Y/N said as she looked at Fiona.

“Oh, I see, you’re jealous.” Fiona said before Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Jealous? Y-yeah, okay, Fiona.”

“I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your tone! You’re jealous of Clare, Y/N!’ Fiona said before Y/N sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“Okay, fine, yes! I’m jealous. But, it dosen’t matter. I’ll never be her.” Y/N said before Fiona sighed and hugged her.

***

The next day Y/N was at her locker.

“Y/N!”

She turned around and saw Eli walking towards her.

“Oh, hey, Eli.”

“Hey. So, you’re still coming to my play, right?” Eli asked before Y/N nodded.

“Yep, I wouldn’t miss it.” Y/N said before Eli smiled.

“Cool. Great I-I just wanted to make sure you were still coming.” Eli said before Y/N smiled.

“Well, I am.”

“Hey, guys.” Fiona said as she walked over.

“Hi.”

“See you guys around. Bye, Y/N/N.” Eli said before he walked away.

“Bye.”

“Did you see that?!” Fiona asked before Y/N closed her locker.

“See what?” Y/N asked as the two started to walk down the hallway.

“He said bye to you directly.” Fiona said as she linked her arm with Y/N‘s

“That dosen’t mean anything.” Y/N said as she rolled her eyes.

“Whatever you say.” Fiona said as Y/N shook her head and smiled.

***

The play was starting in less than ten minutes and Imogen was no where to be found.

Eli was sitting at a vanity backstage.

“Did you find her?” Eli asked as Y/N walked over to him.

“Nope. No one’s seen her. We’ve looked everywhere. She’s not even answering her phone. How are you doing?” Y/N asked as she stood behind him.

“Not that great, considering I don’t have a leading lady.” Eli said before Y/N lightly chuckled.

“It’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“True. But, I believe you’ll be able to pull it off.” Y/N said before Eli sighed and stood up.

“How can you be so sure?! I don’t have a leading lady! This play is turing into a disaster!” Eli exclaimed as Y/N slightly flinched.

“It’s okay. Eli, just calm down-“

“It’s not that easy, okay?! God, Y/N, you just don’t get it! You’re so annoying! I sometimes can’t believe I’m even friends with you! You’re an awful friend!” Eli yelled before Y/N’s face fell.

“Oh. Well, if that’s how you feel.” Y/N said before she started to walk away.

“Y/N-wait! Y/N! Damn it!” Eli said before he kicked a chair.

“Care to explain why we just saw Y/N run out crying?” Fiona asked after she and Holly J walked over.

“She was crying?” Eli asked as he turned around.

“Yeah. She looked really hurt. What happened?” Holly J asked.

“I-I think I was having another episode and I went off on her.” Eli sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Why don’t you go try to find her and calm her down?” Fiona suggested before Holly J nodded and left.

“Sure.”

“Okay, it’s just you and me here. Wanna tell me what happened?” Fiona asked as she leaned against the vanity.

“She came back here to tell me nobody’s seen Imogen and was trying to tell me thay everything would be okay and that everything would work out. I guess I didn’t wanna hear it and I lashed out on her.” Eli said before Fiona sighed.

“Oh, no. What did you say?” Fiona asked.

“I-I told her she was annoying and a bad friend and-”

“And?”

“And that sometimes I can’t believe I’m even friends with her.” Eli said before Fiona gasped.

“Oh, my God! Eli, that’s terrible!” Fiona said as Eli sighed.

“I know, I know. I just-I think I messed up the best friendship I’ve ever had.”

“Y/N! Y/N! Wait!” Holly J said as she followed Y/N down the hall.

“What, Holly J?” Y/N asked as she turned around.

“Come here.” Holly J said as she opened her arms.

Y/N ran into her arms and cried into her shoulder.

Holly J whispered soft sayings into her ear and ran her hand through her hair.

She then lead her to a bench.

“Now, what exactly happend?” Holly J asked after the two sat down.

“Eli happened. He told me that he dosen’t even know why he’s friends with me.” Y/N said as she wiped her tears.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Holly J said as she held her hand.

“You didn’t see his face, Holly J. He looked pretty serious.” Y/N said as she laid her head on Holly J’s shoulder.

“Well, the play’s about to start, so what are you gonna do? The audience is packed.” Fiona said.

“I don’t have a leading lady.” Eli said before Fiona sighed.

“I’ll do it. I’ll play Clara. I know the lines.” Fiona said.

“You don’t know the new ending.” Eli said.

“If I have to read my script on stage, then so be it. Bottom line it says directed by Fiona Coyne in the program. And like I said before I will not be responsible for a bomb. So, are you with me or what?” Fiona asked.

“I’m with you.” Eli said before they heard the music.

“That’s the cue. Better get stage left for my big entrance. See you in the spotlight.” Fiona said before she walked away.

“Show time.”

***

Holly J managed to convince Y/N to watch the play and the two were sitting in the audience.

“Thanks for coming, I just-I hate the way we left things. The truth is, you should be with me, not uh-him. Um-I’m sorry. Uh, what?” Eli asked after he looked at Y/N.

“Um-Maybe we should go away from here.” Fiona said before Eli looked at her.

“No, th-that’s not how it goes. That’s my line, not your’s. You’re not following the script!” Eli said.

“You’re not exactly following the script either, Ari!” Fiona said before the audience laughed.

“It dosen’t matter, you’re not her.” Eli said before Fiona looked at him.

“Eli, come on, we’re almost done. Just stick to the script!” Fiona said softly.

“What script? There’s not script! You can’t write your life! No matter how much all of you want a happy ending, you can’t have it! I tried to write one, but it’s impossible. I rewrote and rewrote but things kept changing, and I hurt people, and I-I knew they were hurting, but I didn’t stop. Because your mind tricks you. It tricks you into thinking that things are fine. They’re not fine, nothing is fine! It’s all wrong!” Eli exclaimed after stood up and took the script from Fiona.

He looked at Y/N, who had tears in her eyes.

“I’m all wrong. That’s it. There’s no happy ending.” Eli said before he lit the script on fire and fell to the ground.

“Um.. Lights!” Fiona said before the lights turned off and being everyone started clapping.

The audience stood up and applauded before the cast bowed.

Eli had tears in his eyes and looked at Y/N, who had tears in her eyes, as well.

As soon as everyone started going backstage, Y/N ran out in tears, with Fiona and Holly J following.

“I got it.” Fiona said as Holly J nodded.

“Okay.”

“Y/N! Y/N/N! Y/N! Wait!” Fiona said as she ran after her best friend.

“Leave me alone, Fiona.”

“No, stop, wait! Y/N?” Fiona said soflty after she turned Y/N around.

“What?”

“Look, he didn’t mean-”

“You weren’t there, Fiona. You didn’t hear him, you didn’t see his face.” Y/N said as she wiped her tears.

“How about we just crash at my place and forget about this whole nightmare?” Fiona asked before Y/N nodded.

“I guess that would be okay.” Y/N said before Fiona smiled and put her arm around her.

“Good.”

***

For the past few days, Eli had been doing everything he could to get Y/N to forgive him.

He tried calling her, texting, he even went to her house.

But, she contiuned to ignore him. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever talk to him again.

“Fiona, hey!” Eli said as he followed Fiona down the hallway.

“Oh, uh, hi, Eli.” Fiona said after she turned around.

“Do you know when Y/N’s gonna forgive me.” Eli asked before Fiona shrugged.

“To be honest, I’m not sure if she will. What you said really hurt her, Eli. Even if you didn’t mean it.” Fiona said before Eli sighed.

“Well, can you at least tell her that I’m really sorry.” Eli said before Fiona nodded.

“Sure. See ya.” Fiona said after she saw Y/N and before she walked away.

“Bye.”

“What did he say?” Y/N asked as Fiona came up to her.

“He just said to tell you that he’s really sorry. And he looked pretty bad. I’ve never seen him that upset.” Fiona said before Y/N sighed.

“What do you think I should do?” Y/N asked.

“Maybe hear him out.” Fiona said with a small shrug before the bell rang.

“I guess.” Y/N said before the two walked to class.

***

After school, Y/N decided to text Eli and tell him to come over.

Eli raced over there as soon as he saw the text.

“Hey.” Eli said after Y/N answered the door.

“Hi. Come in.”

The two went up the her room.

“Look, I’m really, really sorry. I honestly don’t know why I said those things. You’re not annoying, you’re actually really fun to be around. You’re also a great friend and I know why I’m friends with you, and it’s because you’re an amazing person.” Eli said before Y/N slightly blushed and smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess there’s something I have to get off of my chest.” Y/N said before Eli’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I-I’ve been jealous of Clare.” Y/N sighed.

“Of Clare? Why?” Eli asked.

“Because of your history, because of the way you look at her, because she’s not me.” Y/N said as tears started to form in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What do you mean, ‘she’s not you?’ So what? Who cares if she’s not you. You’re awesome.” Eli said as he wiped her tears.

“T-thanks.”

“Also..”

“What? What?” Y/N asked with a slight chuckle.

Eli placed his hands on her cheeks and crashed his lips against hers.

The two slowly pulled away and their eyes fluttered open.

“I really like you, Y/N L/N.” Eli said with a small chuckle.

“I really like you, too, Eli Goldsworthy.” Y/N said with a small smile.

“So, do you forgive me?” Eli asked before Y/N lightly smirked.

“Maybe.” Y/N said before Eli chuckled and connected their lips again.

[sugaxjpg]

04 | blank check; m

⤷ “Let me get this right, okay? You threw my name in as your fake girlfriend because you needed to prove yourself to your empty-headed friends, and now you need to fix it. Still,” you paused, raising your eyebrows, “your way of fixing is not to disclose it as a lie, but to cover it up with an even bigger and riskier one. Is that correct?”

⤷ PART 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | Co-written with @pantaemonium

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & FakeDating!AU

✓ Filed under: smut, tragic comebacks

✓ Words: 6,892

Author’s Note: And here it is... whatever this is. Laura and I are sorry. Also, Part 5 will be a bit longer than the ones we have put out so far, so pls be patient!! It’ll come :,) 

Your debate class had its intense, hair-pulling moments in the past — from the dichotomy of the current political climate to philosophical dialogues about Descartes’ universal doubt — but, every once in a while, even your professor would get stressed at the constant bickering of his top 10 students and, instead, would chose a dumb theme that the class could find some sort of humor in. After some time, even that showed itself to be an obstacle, since most of your classmates had their head so far up their own ass that they forgot what the sun looked like, even less what it was to have a chill, borderline comical, conversation with another human being.  

And that was where you and Namjoon came in.

If you were to be completely honest, you could say without a shadow of a doubt that the two had a constant veil of bitterness floating between you. What could you do? Both of you were a bit more competitive than you should be, and the prospect of academic validation was far too tempting for you two to just let it slide. But, damn. If Dante Alighieri had the misfortune of meeting Kim Namjoon throughout his life, you were absolutely sure he would have added the man somewhere amongst his circles of inferno — because, Jesus Christ, was he a pain in the ass when he took things to his personal side.

“In synthesis, professor, I must conclude,” Namjoon started, leaning against the tall surface of his table. The copy of the discussed book was placed before him, and you could see that he had highlighted — and color-coded — at least half of it. “Bella Swan should have picked Jacob instead of Edward. The amount of danger she faced was ridiculous, and perfectly avoidable if she had chosen the one that was always there for her and, quite frankly, much more attractive.”

Subtle. Always so subtle.

With his feet over a nearby desk, your professor hummed, and used his cup of coffee to hide the smirk that creeped up on his lips. From your peripheral vision, you could see the other students exchanging animated glances, waiting for your turn to defend Team Edward. “Alright. Very good, Kim,” he praised, then turned to you. His mop-like moustache was stained by the brown coffee, and it looked more disgusting than it should. “What do you have for us, defense?”

You pushed your shoulders back and, without a missed beat, spoke your truth. “I disagree with Namjoon’s conclusion, professor. Edward Cullen cared about Bella Swan much more than Jacob ever did. He was only angry because he was thrown into the friendzone, and did not get his desires fulfilled by his best friend.” Your eyes darted towards Namjoon as you verbalized those words, wishing you were just as subtle as he had been — that is, not at all. “Edward protected Bella since the start, was patient, and didn’t force anything on her. With all due respect, professor.” You turned back to the class. “Jacob had no free-pass to Bella’s black lacy underwear just because he had been there for longer.”

“That’s irrelevant to this debate, come on!” Namjoon defended himself, blushing from the tip of his ears to — not that you had been looking before — the place where his tan skin disappeared under his shirt. The buttons opened, that would’ve gotten him a warning in high school—but in college it was the average cool dude uniform.  “Jacob was not as simple-minded as he’s thought to be. He may be a werewolf but he’s not stupid—”

“Well, I have to disagree. As you may have read — and I’m sure my opponent highlighted this part too—, in the fourth book of the saga Jacob imprinted Edward and Bella’s new-born baby, under the justification that, and I quote, everything he was—snip, snip, snip—floated up into space when he met the baby’s eyes, which are coincidentally very similar to Bella’s who happened to be at the moment, dead.”

“It is explained within the Twilight universe that werewolves often link themselves to their partners for life.” Namjoon barked back, although there was no confidence left within him when he opened the book, and started looking through his notes, wondering how he could’ve left the imprinting-the-baby topic out. What a mess.

Poor Namjoon had surely been very busy dreaming of your black underwear to finish preparing the debate and that, good for you, meant you had won — for once.

“My shaking jerked to a stop; heat flooded through me, stronger than before, but it was a new kind of heat — not a burning,” you read, trying to occult behind the pages the wicked smile invading your features. At the back of the classroom, your classmates started laughing enough for Mr. Moustache to turn around and shush them. Namjoon was paralysed. His projection into the Jacob’s character was not as funny anymore. “Around five minutes before he falls in love with the half-vampire parasite, he’s hugging Bella’s flailing body, forbidding her from dying. He’s not what I call… consistent with his feelings.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to talk, but all of the present souls knew that his chances of coming back from that annihilation were practically zero. With a smile and a resonating laugh, Professor Pornstache turned around to the class. “Alright, children of the corn, you all know how it goes,” he started. You had no idea how he hadn’t noticed the soaked mess that his upper lip had turned into, but that’s what botox injections can do to your overall sensibility, after all. “Write on a piece of paper who you think won, and then let’s do this as democratically as we can — even if we all know that the final word is mine.”

You rolled your eyes at your professor’s attempt at being Cool With the Kids. Mussolini over there — Mustachelini? Nah — constantly tried to sneak in references of popular movies into his every sentence, which explained his constant obsession with reviewing young adult novels. Next one up, according to him, would be something from Cassandra Clare, and you really didn’t think you’d be able to endure another painfully awkward love triangle discussion, even less the hidden incest.

With a few chuckles and guilty gazes crossing, the classroom was quick to pass the papers off to the front row, where the teacher’s personal pet — Jisoo? Achoo? Bless you — could organize and count the votes. You were lucky she was great at her job, for it took her less than five dragged-out, silence-filled minutes to have an answer.

With a grin that seemed to come out straight from a Monopoly live-action movie, your professor looked down at the winner’s name. “Oh, look at that,” he said. “Seems like we have a new name to pay attention to. Namjoon…” he dragged out his speech in a way that you swore the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Next to you, the boy leaned forwards, chest filled up with pride. “Better luck next time, kid. Y/N got the trophy. That’s ten points to gryffindor, and a nine for Team Edwards.”

With the weight of defeat dragging his shoulders down, Namjoon retreated to the back of the classroom, where the bad boys — you almost cringed thinking of him as one of those — sat and gnawed gum loudly trying to make the world believe their attitude would get there somewhere in life except, perhaps, jail. He plopped onto his chair, and let out a defeated sigh. If he couldn’t win a Twilight debate that meant his career was over, his reputation on the floor. It was a tragic defeat, one he had never expected.

Part of him, you thought, should be happy that it had been you the one to conquer the first place. It could have been someone else, like the guy from second row who carried an anime figurine around and ate his boogers when he thought no one was watching; or maybe, the resident weed-lover, who would probably rant for five minutes about the necessity to legalize marijuana, and avoid altogether the mundane problems of two-hundred year old bloodsucker hottie number 1; and very white, very anodyne Bella Swan.

“So, tell me, what kept you so busy that you couldn’t finish the assigned reading?” You questioned, rubbing — as they would say — salt over his overabundance of pride wounds. It was petty, but it was the funniest part of defeating the smarty-pants in the room. “Anything on your mind? Do you need a pep-talk? My therapist’s number, perhaps?”

Namjoon crossed his arms over his desk and laid his head over them, hoping the earth could just open up and swallow him alive. It crossed his mind that Jungkook probably didn’t even know which elements that are inside the Earth’s core — nickel and iron, for the ones wondering — even less which layer was liquid: internal or external. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe you wanted someone that was more than brains, or maybe you could be searching for someone so dumb that would make you feel more confident at your own IQ — yeah, that was probably it. You wouldn’t pick anyone but Namjoon if that wasn’t the case.

But he needed to control the flux of his thoughts before it got the best of him, and he made the mistake of being a little bit more honest than he should. What could he do? His pride was completely shattered — over a Twilight debate, for fuck’s sake — and he was struggling to seat down after the catastrophe that had been that pizza. Never underestimate the enemy. Never underestimate cheese left out to rot for too long.

And, most importantly, never underestimate Jeon Jungkook.

“So, Y/N,” he started, raising his head from the desk. Two other students had already moved to the front of the class to start their debate on the powers of some of the secondary vampire characters, but he didn’t care about it — that one, he could win it in his sleep —, for his eyes were completely glued to your own. “You ran away from us that night at the party. Care to say what happened between you and your misunderstood knight?”

And god bless your winner high for not making your face crack under the sudden question. Even if the image of Jungkook rubbing his cherry splitter came back in a hormonal rush throughout your body and mind, the smirk in your lips lingered, and your inner despair did not drip through your words. “Nothing happened, we are perfectly fine,” you lied. “In fact, he invited me to go to Jimin’s pool party next weekend. Hope you don’t mind my company.”

It was ephemeral, but you saw the way Namjoon’s eyes widened for an instant — he was a mortal man, with simple mortal needs. Seeing glimpses of your black underwear? That was nice. Seeing you in full bikini? That was a miracle, and Kim Namjoon wasn’t someone to disregard a message from the Lord.

He cleared his throat, and looked towards the front of the class, where the debate was starting to heat up. One of the students claimed that vampires having weather-controlling abilities made no sense, for it was Twilight, and not X-men. He had to agree with that one. “That’s… something to consider,” he spoke. It was getting hot there? It was either you or the intestinal cramps from that forsaken pizza — how many days would it take for it to leave his system? God. “Never thought of you as someone who enjoyed… the outdoors.”

“I’m not the sun’s biggest fan, that’s true,” you acknowledged, “but that’s what relationships are about, you know? Making sacrifices, spending time with your boyfriend’s friends. All that.”

Namjoon, once again, lost his space to speak. As his eyebrows twitched together in a sign of his disbelief — and a bit of jealousy, let’s be honest — and his plump lips parted in a silent exclamation, the screen of your phone lit up, a loud ding! ruptured the attention of the class. From the front row, Pornstache asked for you to turn the device off.

“Won’t you look at that,” Namjoon complained, watching your fingers as you quickly placed your phone on silent mode. “Edward Cullen is here to save the day.”

There was a tinge of agony in his voice, that you interpreted as a silent hope that he could someday become the one to disrupt the class to send you, perhaps, a corny I miss you, let’s meet at the library after class, or a more saucy — and god knows you hate that expression — I’d love to be in bed right now, doing you-know-what. Namjoon didn’t strike you to be one to send a I’ll fuck you raw against the wall only because he would understand the physical limitations that would come with such statement.

“Edward Cullen is just trying to know if I’ll be going to your match next week, I think,” you lied. The phone vibrated against the table, insistent. It was like having Jungkook behind your back, saying whatever nonsense he had come up with that same morning. “Don’t you have something useful to do? I don’t know, start reading Cassandra Clare’s failed incest fanfic attempts or something?”

“Nah, you know what? I’m going to the bathroom. That pizza is still kicking my intestines, and not in a good way.” He smiled, and it was dashing. “See you later.”

“When you finish pooping.”

“Yeah.”

With raised eyebrows and the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips, you watched as Namjoon made his walk of shame towards the front of a class, then quickened up his pace suddenly. If you could go back to the night of the party and tell him about the consequences of his ridiculously high cheese consumption, you wouldn’t. It was too funny to just let it pass.

Your entertainment, however, was short-lived. As soon as you turned your gaze back to the device on your hands and actually read through the previews of Jungkook’s messages, you could tell that something was wrong.

Jungkook’s only neuron: [incoming video]

Jungkook’s only neuron: SHRIIRSHIT

Jungkook’s only neuron: NO DONT OPEN THAT PLEASE DONT

Jungkook’s only neuron: THAT ISN’T FOR YOU BABY NO

Jungkook’s only neuron: IM SO SORRY OMHFGF NPONONOONO

Jungkook’s only neuron: i want to die please dont download the video please i will do anything i will buy you milkshakes for the entire week plea...

But it was too late: you knew Jungkook was terrible at finding compelling arguments, but that was just too much. He knew you were curious, and his overwhelmed texts only increased your sadism to prolong his suffering. Of course you were going to see whatever the hell he had sent you, and of course you would make sure to tease him for it until the end of time. It was what he deserved after dragging you for yet another acting gig.

So, you unlocked your phone, and went straight to his conversation. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were met with — but one thing was for certain: you were so happy that you had brought your earphones that day.

Curiosity started to carve a hole within your chest. It started as a mere tingle, just below your breastbone, when you plugged in your earphones and starting downloading the video. Had Jungkook been a bit smarter that day — or just more technology-conscious — he would have remembered there was an option to delete his video. It would erase it from the face of earth, and with it the shame it would bring along. It was useless now, because by the time he understood the power he had allowed to slip away you would have already saved the thing in your phone. For blackmail purposes only, of course.

With absolutely no expectations, you pressed play. The condemnatory piece of evidence Jungkook had sent by mistake started playing on your screen, a vastness of black pixels and an eventual flash of light. It must be something huge, for him to panic — while sober — on the chat-room. And huge it was, although at first the image was without form and void. Darkness invaded the screen, like there was a towel or a shirt placed in front of the camera, and the only remnants of light that managed to filter in were through holes in the cotton.

Maybe Jungkook had finally lost his mind, and he had recorded one of those confession videos with huge cards. You are perfect to me, could have been read in one of those, scribbled with a Sharpie in his terrible handwriting. But Jungkook was not the romantic type so that would not be the case, he had a reputation to hold — surprisingly, he had not destroyed it yet.

And so the dumbass said “let there be light”, and there was light — and the most horrendous pink tiles covering the bathroom floor. He appeared into focus, clad in grey sweatpants and a tee shirt that you recognized immediately as part of the training gear for the volleyball team.

“Oh, god,” you muttered to yourself, watching him seat cross-legged before the camera. You had watched enough porn in your life to, at least, sense where this was going, but you were not prepared. Not at all.

When the boy — Jungkook, it was fucking Jungkook and you knew it — moved backwards on the shot, the entire scene came into focus, presenting you with the image of what you presumed was his bathroom. You would recognize that pink abomination anywhere, even if, the last time you witnessed it, you had not payed attention to the disgusting fact that the tiles were also a pallid tinge of roseate; the same color of the heat that painted the boy’s cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears.

The image was slightly blurred still, but you could tell that he was sitting on the floor, back pressed against a bathtub. Jungkook had moved down on the shot enough so you could see up to his nose, but his eyes were still out of frame. It didn’t matter: you knew it was him, and you could not stop looking at the way his swollen lips were parted, glistening with the thin layer of his saliva. From in between them, came the weak, shy sound of a moan, and his body shivered in expectation.

Before you could even take hold of your actions, your gaze was already shooting downwards, past the droplets of sweat on his tan neck, and the obnoxious colors of his team shirt — for fuck’s sake, he was clearly not the brightest of minds, but, if he wanted it to be a bit harder to figure it out who it was, he shouldn’t have worn that. Dumbass. The hottest fucking dumbass you’ve ever laid eyes upon. Not the point.

Then, you saw it, and your mind went blank. Jungkook had one of his veiny hands placed over his hard member, its outline vaguely visible through the thick fabric of his pants. And, shit, that wasn’t the only thick thing in sight. But anyways. He was caressing it slowly, up and down, then rolling his palm against it slowly, dragging out the whines that broke upon his lips. Through your earphones, you could hear the fragile inflections of his voice against your ear, and you swore you could feel his raggedy breath hitting your skin at every new exhale.

On the upper part of your screen, another message popped up: I can tell you’re online!!!! it practically yelled, reeking of desperation and pheromones. You ignored it. There were more interesting things happening. Bigger things.

Jungkook pressed his palm down on his cock one, twice, but soon grew impatient at the lack of sensibility it provided. You tapped on the video and saw that it was three minutes long, which told you just how much he was eager to get straight to the point; and, much to your inner satisfaction, your hypothesis was quickly proved.

Almost timidly — who would’ve thought Jeon Jungkook could be any shade of timid, for fuck’s sake — the tip of his cock was released from the constriction of the elastic. He had been dripping enough to wet the fabric, and it elicited a thousand questions amongst which the idea of Jungkook cumming in his pants, unable to stop himself was primordial and very much overwhelming.

With more tenderness you had ever imagined he would be capable of, he pressed his thumb against his crown, smearing his slick all around. It ripped a long-drawled groan out of his throat, as he threw his head back and against the bathtub. Sweat started to pool in hollow of his clavicle when he dared move again, hand encircling his length.

That was the moment you understood the situation was serious in more than one way because a) Mr Pornstache was still doing whatever he believed was teaching, b) Namjoon had just crossed the classroom threshold and was about to return to his place by your side; and c) your panties were wetter that the goddamn Nile and it was Jungkook’s doing.

Way to start the week.

Then again, miracles can present themselves every once in a while and, for you, it was the fast-thinking that suddenly overtook your senses. Even if every fiber of your being begged for you to do otherwise, your fingers were quick to pause the video, block your phone, and shove your earplugs inside your jacket’s pocket before Namjoon’s gaze even casted itself in your general direction. Usain Bolt who?

You cleared your throat — was it hot in there?  “There you are,” you whispered as he sat down next to you. Namjoon looked one shade whiter and many years older. “Had fun?”

He rolled his eyes. “What kind of question is that?” You did not know. You weren’t thinking straight. You could barely recall your name amongst the echoes of Jungkook’s moans inside your mind, and it was driving you insane. “Anyways,” he started, “did I miss something important? Any big arguments to take into consideration?”

“The biggest argument I’ve ever see— I mean no, nothing,” you were quick to correct yourself. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you recalled every medical drama you’ve ever watched, the movement of the defibrillators and the anxious screams of the doctors — charge it to 200; to 500… There’s nothing else we can do, we lost her. Jungkook strikes again. “You know what? This reminds me, I should go to the bathroom as well— To do… to… take care of lady stuff.”

Taken aback by surprise, Namjoon leaned back against his chair and raised his eyebrows in expectation, trying to predict where that was heading towards. He was clearly doubtful of your actions, and Mr Mustachelini was far too enrolled in the superpower debate to care about the way you roughly moved to your feet, almost knocking the desk over as you did so. Thank the heavens above that you didn’t wear a skirt that day, because the situation in between your legs was reaching critical levels.

“Lady… stuff?” he repeated slowly. There it was: the man you learned to fear in debates and in the court, with those piercing pupils and the expression that told you that there was no use in lying, for he already knew the secrets that you hid underneath your tongue. “Did something happen?”

You laughed nervously. “Absolutely nothing happened,” you lied. He could tell. Somehow, he just could. “I just have to leave, it’s gonna be really quick just… okay, bye.”

Namjoon moves around very slowly. The commotion of your sudden leave had probably pressed a slow-mo button he could not turn off. It was like all his energy was being redirected towards his brain, aimed at the gears you could almost hear rumble. It was just a bathroom escapade, it wasn’t that deep. But Namjizz was keen on discovering the secrets you were not skilful enough to conceal — at least not with the image of Jungkook’s swollen dick in his pretty hands still engraved in your brain.

“Bye,” you repeated, waving him farewell. Still perplexed he muttered something along the lines of: are you sure everything is alright? That you never responded to. All you could picture was the girls’ bathroom at the end of the corridor, the cubicle at the far left — the one less transited.

You had some dignity left inside, so you didn’t run. Instead, you walked as fast as your legs allowed. In hindsight, it was a ridiculous image, but you could only feel the weight of your phone growing heavier in your pocket, the wires tangling like serpents as some sort of cosmic punishment for your unspeakable crimes. As if it wasn’t enough that you had fallen for the local cliché; that you had been tempted by the one character in the comic you had promised you would only treat with disdain and, perhaps, some well-founded superiory.

Jungkook was an overused trope, that was clear enough —  thanks brain for the painful reminder! — but fuck, did he make you wet with only a few seconds of his blurry, leaked sextape.

Despite the late hour, the bathroom was deserted. You had been hoping to find someone there, someone disagreeable and nasty who would kill your libido with just a look. Coco would’ve fit the role. But there was no one around, and the cleaning lady had just polished the tiles till they shone like diamonds.

Weren’t you the luckiest girl in the entire university, huh?

Giving it no more thought, you locked yourself inside the cubicle. Your phone vibrated again, this time in your hand.

Jungkook’s only neuron: please Y/N  i didn’t mean to send that to you. it was a mistake. come back and call me a pig BUT DO SOMETHING. THIS IS LIKE POKING A STONE WITH A STICK

Jungkook’s only neuron: if you didn’t see it as I BEGGED YOU TO PLEASE FORGET I EVEN SAID THAT

He continued to rant into the group chat, monologuing about the many reasons behind your silence. It was — truth be told — abnormal of you to skip a chance to roast him, but there were more important matters to attend to. With a quick swish of your finger you silenced him, and with it the guilt that could come.

In movements far too quick to be your own, you plugged in the earphones in your ear, checked that they were well connected to your device — the last thing you needed was to interrupt the chastic beauty of that recently-cleaned bathroom with Jungkook’s devilish moans — and moved back to the video. The recording started over, but you were quick to move back to the time stamp you had stopped in — 1:38, precisely and, yes, you had memorized.

Now, that was when your morning started to go downhill, because it was when you decided to, as you had mentioned before, defenestrate the rest of your pride, and do the dirty work. Kind of: you were a bit out of your senses, but not enough to finger the baby maker in the middle of a public bathroom, no matter how clean it was.

So, you settled for the second best.

As the video resumed, you noticed the wetness that had spread between your thighs, only increasing as those lust-filled images flashed before your gaze. There was something alluring about the idea of the Great Jeon Jungkook playing with himself, allowing for his hips to roll against his hand as temptation overtook his senses; his legs so weak that he could barely move in that gruesomely pink bathroom floor. He was edging himself, that you could tell from the continuous biting of his lower lip, and the quivering pants that left his mouth, and he was adoring every second of his self-inflicted torture.

Moans and curses poured from his chest like ambrosia, and your other hand was quick to undo the buttons of your pants. You could see him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed, as his parted lips groaned for release, his muscles clenching again and again; cock throbbing in his hands. Perhaps, in an instant of patience, he would rub himself through his underwear until he was hard enough, or maybe he would grind against his bed until he could no long take the pleasure that monopolized his carnal desires.

Not that you were far away from that fate.

Hastily, you placed your hand in the space between your jeans and your underwear, finding your clit instantly. Your fingers traced circles over your sensitive spot, but the numbed feeling was awfully frustrating to endure. Just like the fucking video before your eyes was; the rise and fall of Jungkook’s abdomen as he reached for his own orgasm; the teasing of his thumb against the top of his member; the weak, whimper-like moans that infested your mind like a damn egyptian plague. Everything about that situation was frustrating, and it was tearing you from the inside out.

As he so tenderly caressed his length, you wondered at the rubor that had conquered his neck, the toned expanse of his chest. Jeon Jungkook had lost the intimidating arrogance that seemed to envelope his entire being. There was no arrogance in the curve of his mouth when opened his mouth in a whimper that broke before it could be captured by the microphone of his phone. There was no pride in the way he tilted his head back, fingers tight around his cock as he fucked himself relentlessly.

Despite the lack of friction, the sole image of his muscles tensing as he approached his release was enough to have you trembling. The memento of his hands roaming your waist was clear in your mind when you pressed your clit just a bit harder, wishing it was him the one to tease you with the same cruelly he was teasing himself. The wonders his fingers could do, his tongue. As his moans became louder, your movements turned erratic, almost desperate. It threatened to break you, but you could not find reason within yourself to stop.

Still, Jungkook wouldn’t be Jungkook if he didn't find a way to ruin your fucking day.

The vibration of your phone in your hands made your heart jump inside your chest and, for an instant, you swore you had seen the light at the end of the tunnel, and the angels calling you to join them above. But no — it was the human-shaped devil named Jungkook and he was, quite literally, calling you.

With a stressed-out groan, you barely thought about your actions before sliding to answer his call, his previous moans being immediately replaced by static. “What the fuck do you want, Jungkook?”

From the other sound of the line, you heard a shuffle. “Oh great, you picked up,” he spoke. You couldn’t tell if his voice was permeated by annoyance or by relief and, quite honestly, you didn’t give a flying fuck — you had your hands pressed against the soaked mess that had become your panties in a public bathroom, and the last thing you needed was to psychologically characterize his timbre based upon the inflections of his tone. “We have to talk.”

Honestly? Fuck it. The guy had already ruined one rub-out session for you, and he wouldn’t do the same thing again; not when the only detail you could think about had been the ridiculously hot video he had sent you. “No we don’t,” you threw back, breathing growing sharp as you continued your motions — slower this time. “This is not the time, and you have nothing—” You paused, biting back a moan, then masking it as a cough. Okay, you certainly didn’t think that through. “You have nothing to justify.”

“You know I do.” He hesitated. “It’s about the video.”

“Of course it’s about the fucking video,” you interrupted, throwing your head back against the wall. You were starting to get close, and you knew it. “Are you narcissistic enough to jerk off to a video of you... jerking off? This is the weirdest case of inception I’ve ever seen.”

Jungkook paused on the other end. “Inception? But that has nothing to do with my family.”

Good god, have mercy on your soul. “Inception, Jungkook.” You groaned. “Not incest.”

“Not the point, smart ass,” he was quick to reply and — fuck Jungkook and his honey voice — you could have sworn he had almost stuttered. There was no way you could have known for sure, for your own mind was wandering elsewhere and you were barely containing the tremors of your own voice. “I really need to see you and explain, so tell me where to go and I’ll be there.”

“Jungkook,” you called, and your brain thought it was a great moment to bring the images you had been trying to avoid, of Jungkook in-between your legs licking your wetness away as you whimpered his name. At the end of the line there was only static to match your error, so you rapidly added. “There’s no need to explain. I really have no interest in seeing you beat your meat to whatever Arctic Monkeys song you chose as your sex jam, so I don’t really care about your reasons—”

“It’s very normal to do something like this, okay? Some guys do it all the time. I do it all the time to, you know, see how I perform and everything.” You had long lost track of his explanation. The murmur of his voice was just an echo at the back of your head, for you had never stopped pressing your fingers against your clit, trying to subdue the sweet pain threatening to take over. Your brain was overworked — and overwhelmed — and Jungkook blabbing his way out of shame was not annoying enough to stop you. “It’s like monitoring yourself, and It makes me a better lover. A better partner, if you want. Y-you should be glad I’m doing this—”

As Jungkook ranted on, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt him, for you knew the moment you tried to speak only a moan would emerge from your throat.

Jungkook, however, took your silence as a punishment. “So you really watched it, huh?” He chuckled, humorless. “Guess I fucked up again—”

For fuck’s sake not now. The way he hesitated — just for a second — before he spoke and his voice refused to come out untainted but in a rough whisper, was the last thing you needed to complete your descent into Dante’s nine circles of hell.

Before you could notice, the faintest whimper dripped from your lips, a broken chord that sounded like his name.

Well, if you wanted to stop Jungkook from blabbering, that was the way to go.

Maybe if you had been a little more in your senses, the realization that you had just moaned out the fragmented syllables of his name would have seemed like an apocalyptic forewarning for the chaos that would ensue. But no: you were far too gone to care, and it had fulfilled your initial purpose of silencing the annoying insect buzzing in your earphones.

But of course, Jungkook wouldn’t let it go so easily.

On the other end of the line, he cleared his throat. “What… are you doing?” He paused, seeming to take in all the details he had ever so naively overlooked aforetime — the vague panting that departed from in-between your lips, the eagerness in which you rushed to finish your sentences. Something odd was taking place, and even his one living neuron could perceive it. “You sound like you just ran a marathon. ”

“It’s a debate class, genius, things got… heated,” and that had been the perfect word to use. “I’m not doing anything.”

There was a second of hesitation before he spoke up again. “Isn’t Namjoon in that class with you?”

“Yes. Congrats on the goldfish memory.” You breathed out — okay, you could maybe hold yourself back. You were getting close, for your legs were already shaking, and you could barely keep your eyes open for longer than a couple seconds and, if you had holden tight for that long, you could do it again. Just no more moaning. Not in front of him. Later, maybe.

“That’s weird,” Jungkook spoke. Fuck his voice, fuck the way his whimpers and cries for release still echoed inside your head; fuck the delicious sight of his head thrown back, and his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Fuck him. Fuck you. Hopefully. “I just texted him and he said that you left to go to the bathroom. For lady pro—”

“—It’s a different Namjoon.” What kind of answer was that? You were barely thinking. “Listen, Jungkook, I’m not in the mood to talk, so maybe you could just… call later?”

“There’s only one Namjoon, and we both know his lame lactose-intolerant ass.” Jungkook could be sharp if he thought very hard. Maybe the ruptured thoughts crossing your mind, the weakness spreading all over your body, was what he had needed to fight on equal ground — and somehow you knew he would be very proud of this victory. “You received the video, and then went to the bathroom?” He was trying to organize the timeline of your befall, and for once his solitary neuron was cooperating, while yours were just running around, screaming like hippies high on acid. “Did you go to the bathroom… to watch it?”

“Jungkook, just drop it.” You whined, the sound needier than you had ever intended. “Let’s talk later, okay? I need to go back to class now. Call me later if you want and we’ll talk about the stupid party or your rampant narcissism, whatever you want.”

“I’ll wait for you after class—” He didn’t sound convinced. The raggedness of your voice was a good reason to be puzzled, but the guy was apparently too idle to hang up and do something useful. “We can go somewhere to discuss the party details if you’re up. You know, like a business meeting but in like a café or something.”

“I have a test tomorrow.” Holding to the last threads of rationality, you understood it was time to end the conversation. “Nice talking to you, Jungkook. Bye.”

Jungkook would have questions, of course, but you could only think of him, his hands, his soft lips against your own. Your hand returned to torture your clit, this time unrestricted by his presence on the phone. It was ridiculously easy to find the right pace, to bring back the memory of his weights pressing against your own, his tongue discovering your mouth. Jungkook could mess your existence even in your imagination and that was something you had to confess you had never expected.

Call ended, you allowed yourself to suspire in relief, dwelling in the absence of his frequent interrogations, and the pleasure that was overtaking your senses. The silence, however, was short-lived: you forgot you still had the video playing in the background.  

Now, some things in life are beautifully synchronized: the fly of birds as the sun sets; your favorite sad song playing while you’re driving in the rain… Jungkook’s dragged-out moans echoing inside your head the same instant you found your high. You know, the simple stuff. The kind of stuff that makes you lay awake at night in horror.

Your legs trembled when you reached your orgasm, waves of heat running up and down your thighs as you fought to suppress a prolonged whimper. On your hands, the device called for your attention, and your parted eyes barely got the glimpse of a smaller, digitally edited Jungkook covering his abs with the white strands of his own relief; hips rolling against his palm as his mouth, open, cried out in sheer alleviation. You loved that sight, and it pushed you even further down your decay into inferno.

But, of course, the video didn’t stop there. It didn’t fade into black, as you had expected, because you deserved a plot twist to end the day. You had depleted your luck reserves long ago — probably during a math exam — so it was highly unlikely that the guy would just finish the deed and turn off the camera.

No, instead Jungkook continued teasing his cock until his thighs trembled with the excess of his own caresses; limbs flinching under the tides of his exaggerated stimulation. He could not bite back he suspires of despair as he rode a second orgasm and muttered an unintelligible prayer.

Wait, scratch that. You rewinded the video, to listen for a second time. In this occasion you closed your eyes, because his fucked-out face was far too distracting for your brain to keep up with so many stimuli.

It was, actually, very intelligible.

Jeon Jungkook was not praying, but moaning your name.

That, nevertheless, was a secret that would die with you. Or so you hoped.

[thebookiemonster14]

A-Z BOOK SURVEY

I nicked this off some random blog so HERE IS THE SURVEY IF YOU WANT TO DO IT YOURSELF

Author you’ve read the most books from:

Rick Riordan, with basically everything he’s ever written from The Lightning Thief all the way up to Trials of Apollo.

Best Sequel Ever:

It’s not the best sequel, but it’s the best improvement from the original, and that’s The Shadow Hour by Melissa Grey, the sequel to The Girl at Midnight.

Currently Reading:

Rereading Carry On…..for about the twentieth time.

Drink of Choice While Reading:

I would have my British passport revoked if I said anything other than tea.

E-reader or Physical Book?

Physical books, because a) I can collect them, b) there’s nothing like turning actual pages and carrying around an actual book, and c) Kindles give me a headache.

Fictional Book Character You’d Date:

See I want to say Adam Parrish because he is the one male character I love that I would also actually date but he’s way too good for me and also I’m too much of an idiot to choose him in real life so take your pick of any low-key psychopath. Edward Cullen fits well. (And if the person who this is about is reading this, you know what you are.)

Glad You Gave This Book A Chance:

One Of Us Is Lying by Karen M. McManus. I thought it would be kind of cheesy but it was really thought-provoking.

Hidden Gem Book:

What does this count as? A hidden gem book aka a book I just found and fell in love with was Ink and Bone by Rachel Caine.

Important Moment in your Reading Life:

The Hunger Games actually brought me into fandom in the first place but I have to say that reading Carry On by Rainbow Rowell was the first actually good YA I’d read in a looong time and it made me see there was more than just the same dystopian recycled again and again.

Just Finished:

Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor.

Kinds of Books You Won’t Read:

I’m really not good with reading super flowery books. I just have a really short attention span so most books that I’ve seen that are really into the description (eg: Uprooted, The Night Circus,) have literally no plot so I just switch off.

Longest Book You’ve Read:

Probably Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Major book hangover because of:

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Steifvater. TWO AND A HALF MONTHS. All I read in between finishing BLLB and the release of TRK was a reread of Carry On (see, I told you I’ve read it a lot.)

Number of Bookcases You Own:

Three and a half. One is big, two are medium-sized, the half is slowly being taken over by me.

One Book You Have Read Multiple Times:

As mentioned before. Carry On. I read it every time I get sad.

Preferred Place To Read:

I have a really weird mood which is in the bathroom by the radiator while the bath is running. It’s such a good feeling.

Quote that inspires you/gives you all the feels from a book you’ve read:

That quote from The Raven Cycle about being in love with all your friends and after having that earth-shattering friendship not wanting another.

Reading Regret:

I regret spoiling myself for the last few Percy Jackson books as they came out because there’s nothing like reading a book when you don’t know what happens.

Series You Started And Need To Finish (all books are out in series):

I can’t think of any series because I normally devour them ASAP or decide not to read the next. See: The Knife Of Never Letting Go, which I just finished on holiday and am not going to read the rest of.

Three of your All-Time Favorite Books:

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, The King’s Men by Nora Sakavic, The Dream Thieves by Maggie Steifvater.

Unapologetic Fangirl For:

VE SCHWAB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Very Excited For This Release More Than All The Others:

About a week and a half ago I would have said The Silver Mask by Cassandra Clare & Holly Black, but now that the heterosexuals have once again ruined something I love, I’m going to say…….yeah, still The Silver Mask, I’ve fallen for queerbaiting too many times and can’t break away now.

Worst Bookish Habit:

BUYING MORE GODDAMN BOOKS WHEN I ALREADY HAVE LOADS IVE BOUGHT THREE BOOKS IN 2 DAYS SOMEONE STOP ME PLEASE I CANT AFFORD THIS

X Marks The Spot: Start at the top left of your shelf and pick the 27th book:

The Shadow Hour by Melissa Grey.

Your latest book purchase:

The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon. I’ve just seen it everywhere and it kind of has an ADSOM vibe?

ZZZ-snatcher book (last book that kept you up WAY late):

I should probably say The King’s Men by Nora Sakavic because I read that past midnight and when I got to The Kevin Part™ I had to scream into my pillow so I didn’t wake my mum up.

[lucyariablog]

6 Mistakes Ruining Your Charts and Infographics

Want some tips guaranteed to result in bad charts?

Of course you don’t. Yet sometimes we learn best from things gone wrong. That’s why, in this article, I offer some of Content Marketing World speaker Scott Berinato’s advice flipped on its head.

Scott shared great tips on how to get data visualization right in his talk, Data Visualization and Creating Good Charts. I’m pointing out how, if you’re not following his advice, you’re surely confusing, boring, and bothering your audiences.

A word about words: When Scott says “chart” or “graph” or “data visualization” or “dataviz” or “information visualization” or “infoviz” or “information graphic” or “infographic,” he refers broadly to the visual communication of data. I’m using the terms “chart” and “infographics” in this same broad way.

You tell without showing

Let’s start with the ultimate bad chart: no chart where one is needed.

Take a note from this fictitious example from Scott. Which version of these directions (left or right) do you prefer? Too easy, I know. If you’re creating directions with text only, you’re guaranteeing maximum inscrutability.

The same problem arises when you describe the significance of numbers with a wall of words. Check out how the paragraphs on the left force you to dig to discover whose fortunes went up in 2015 – something that the chart makes obvious.

Omitting images wallops people with the worst possible information experience. Don’t make words do all the work; showing is more powerful than telling when it comes to directions and data trends.

Don’t make words do all the work. Use visuals for directions and data trends, says @scottberinato. Click To Tweet

HANDPICKED RELATED CONTENT: 12 Types of Awesome Visual Content You Can Use in Your Blog Posts

You include extraneous details

Details go a long way toward making charts accurate and credible. Yet one of the easiest ways to ruin a good chart is to pack in more details than people need or could be expected to care about.

For example, a colleague of Scott’s sent him this photo from a presentation she was watching. Here’s Scott critique:

Don’t be this guy. What is he trying to convey? To whom? I guarantee you he’s not talking about ideas. What is he talking about? Well the x-axis is this, and the red bars mean this … He’s talking about the mess he has on his screen, and he’s not getting any ideas across. You know what the audience is doing? Tuning out. They’re texting pictures to their friends and saying, ‘Get a load of this guy.’

If you’re rolling out charts with extra gridlines, extra labels along the axes, and extra tick marks on the bottom, you’ll have people scrambling for their magnifying glasses. Compare the charts below. Which do you find easier to follow?

You choose inappropriate chart types

Many tools automatically convert data to charts. Anyone can turn a spreadsheet into a chart with a few clicks. But choosing the wrong chart type makes viewers scrunch their eyebrows in confusion.

The wrong chart type makes people scrunch their eyebrows in confusion, says @MarciaRJohnston. Click To Tweet

These two examples give a glimpse of the results of poor data visualization choices.

In this first chart, if you squint long enough over the green line, you figure out that this data has nothing to do with a trend. “You might say that’s a ridiculous example,” Scott says, “but I see this all the time in board presentations.”

This faux trend line is a common example of an inappropriate chart type. If a bar chart had been used, readers would instantly get that it is comparing six departments’ levels of travel spending.

In the chart below, which is not related to the previous one, notice the 3D bars and the jut of the graph itself.

Scott, who serves as senior editor of Harvard Business Review and wrote the book Good Charts: The HBR Guide to Making Smarter, More Persuasive Data Visualizations, considers 3D charts universally inappropriate: “Don’t bend things. Don’t make charts 3D. It’s no good. I don’t know why [software] still lets us do this. It’s silly.”

Scott’s opinion echoes that of dataviz authority Edward Tufte, a famous denouncer of 3D charts who coined the term “chartjunk.” Chartjunk often includes “graphical decoration,” writes the Yale professor emeritus in his book The Visual Display of Quantitative Information. He’s talking about “ink that does not tell the viewer anything new … non-data-ink or redundant data-ink.”

We’re looking at you, little gray squares under the blue bars.

Unfortunately, graphical decoration, as Edward writes, “comes cheaper than the hard work required to produce intriguing numbers and secure evidence.” This man isn’t called “the da Vinci of data” and “the Galileo of graphics” for nothing.

Bad charts were never so easy to make. Avoid the temptation of silly software features.

You use confusing x- and y-axis values

A surefire way to keep your audience guessing about what story your chart is telling is to choose your x- and y-axis values carelessly.

Here’s a before-and-after example showing how the y-axis can obscure the story. At first glance, you might not see much difference between the chart on the left and the one on the right.

The chart on the left shows gold and silver prices in dollars with two y-axes – one on either side – which muddies comparisons.

The chart on the right shows the percentage of change in the prices. Silver (the blue line) has higher highs and lower lows than gold (the orange line). In this chart, Scott says, viewers quickly see that silver is a more volatile investment than gold.

To help people quickly see the stories told in your charts, stick with y-axes that don’t force people to dig for what they want to know.

Make sure your x- and y-axis data tells the story you want to tell. Here’s one of Scott’s favorite examples from his own experience. (He has changed the details to keep the data confidential.) He was getting ready to present a chart like the one on the left at a board meeting. The yellow bars were supposed to show customer purchasing levels (y-axis) throughout the day (x-axis).

In #dataviz, choosing the wrong x- or y-axis data hides the story you want to tell. @MarciaRJohnston Click To Tweet

In fact, the chart on the left tells the wrong story, although you’d never know it. Scott’s colleague discovered that the time of day along the x-axis indicated the time the purchase was recorded on the server in New York – not the time of purchase in the customer’s time zone. The chart on the right shows the adjusted data to reflect the customer’s time of purchase.

Give these two charts the squint test. You can’t help but notice the roller-coaster dip during the wee hours in the updated chart. It practically shouts, “Look what happens to spending when people are sleeping.”

You zoom to frame the data that supports your view

Mark Twain popularized the line, “There are three kinds of lies – lies, damn lies, and statistics.” Bad data visualizations lie without exactly lying.

Consider these two charts. Both show accurate data about sales of vinyl records. The chart on the left zooms in on sales between 1993 and 2014, showing a dramatic surge. The chart on the right zooms out to include sales since 1973. The “surge” in the 21st century all but disappears in that context.

Shifting the data frame confuses the story.

You use only static images

If you use only static images to tell stories with numbers, you may be missing out on one of the most compelling ways to convey data: video (including animation). In an interview with Clare McDermott, for example, Scott points to this video, which depicts World War II death tallies in a way that no static charts alone could:

The Fallen of World War II from Neil Halloran on Vimeo.

Per Clare’s article, Scott points to three things that make this video so impactful:

The author turned data into a story with a setup, conflict, and resolution.

He used animation to do what animation does best: show change.

He kept things simple by using only three chart types: stacked bars, unit charts, and stacked area charts.

If your numbers tell a powerful story involving change, consider using moving images – even simple ones. Think beyond static charts.

Moving images in charts tell powerful stories of change, says @scottberinato. Click To Tweet

HANDPICKED RELATED CONTENT: How to Transform Complex Data Into Understandable and Shareable Visuals

Conclusion

Making bad charts takes hardly any thought. Far too many people do it. Here’s a rundown of the data visualization mistakes I’ve covered:

Telling without showing

Packing in extraneous details

Choosing inappropriate chart types

Using the wrong x- and y-axis values

Zooming in (or out) to frame the data that supports your view

Sticking with static images only

If you’re making these mistakes, you’re likely misleading, befuddling, and boring your audience. Avoid these pitfalls, as Scott suggests, to make charts that clarify – and maybe even inspire.

What are your favorite techniques for creating charts that work?

Here’s an excerpt from Scott’s talk: 

Improve your visual-storytelling skills and much more with the experts presenting at Content Marketing World in September. Register today for early savings! 

Cover image by Joseph Kalinowski/Content Marketing Institute

The post 6 Mistakes Ruining Your Charts and Infographics appeared first on Content Marketing Institute.

from http://contentmarketinginstitute.com/2018/01/charts-infographics-mistakes/