#Queer mystery

[the7livesofmillygray]

the 7 lives of milly gray (ya mystery novel, free on kindle unlimited, lgbtqia, found family

[b0rtney]

you want homosexuals in every conceivable scenario?

Boy oh boy do i have the substack for u: mine!

NO PLEASE LEMME TELL U THE STORIES BEFORE U LEAVE--

Current is Cinnamon Muffins. TLDR: Six queer boys in a homophobic tiny town in Iowa are trying to survive winter break dodging awful parents, social stigma, and mental health crises.

Next up is How to Get Away with Marriage. TLDR: Guy with awful, religious parents marries guy who is living paycheck to paycheck so they can both get all their younger sisters out of their shitty situations (but they fall in love ofc).

Longer desc of these plus the stories coming in the next months are below the cut! (Genres include fantasy, sci-fi, dystopian, mystery/thriller, coming-of-age)

Cinnamon Muffins centers on Taylor Macready, a homeless senior in high school holed up in a sleeping bag under a bridge after his parents kicked him out. He's fully ready to just accept death when it starts snowing on him while he's stargazing, but social outcast Wes Post is taking his nightly walk in a new direction and stumbles (literally) on his longtime crush, Taylor. Dragging Taylor home, Wes's parents prove themselves the only reasonable parents in this book by setting Taylor up on their pullout couch and nursing him back to health. Then Wes, whose closest school relationships include the kids who bully him for his anxiety-related speech impediment, has to get in touch with Taylor's friends to let them know the situation. Meanwhile, the mean girls of Swisher High School are starting a campaign to get homosexuality banned at school. Administratively, it gets nowhere, but it inspires several small-minded shitwads to take matters into their own hands. While Taylor is used to getting into fights, Wes isn't, but he'll have to sink or swim, because the teachers are not paid enough to care what happens in the hallways during lunchtime.

How to Get Away with Marriage opens with Luke Providence, son of a devoutly Baptist family in Nebraska, proposing to Patrick Demden, son of a recently-deceased alcoholic mechanic. The wealthy Providence parents have a longstanding agreement that once their children get married, they will receive a trust of $100,000 to use on the down-payment of a house and to start a life with their spouse. Patrick's younger sister tutors Luke's younger sister, but Patrick's sister is 16. This age gap doesn't matter much to the Providence parents, but it matters a lot to Luke, so he strikes a deal with Patrick: tell the parents he'll marry the sister, legally marry the brother, everyone gets to move to Colorado and escape abusive religious parents and crushing poverty. He needn't have done something so elaborate, Patrick would have married him for any reason at all. But the secret doesn't stay secret forever, and the Providence parents eventually come knocking, trying to recollect their children and their money.

Future stories I'll keep shorter, but feel free to ask about them either in the replies or my askbox and I'll elaborate!

Assassin x Demon King will be getting books 2 and 3! ADK is about an assassin and the king he was supposed to kill, both of whom have quit their jobs and started trying to save as many people as the assassin killed before he dies of a slow-acting poison in twelve months. Books 2 and 3 will have things getting awfully tragic and somewhat more horny than before! (No smut will make it into the print versions of these, that will remain on my substack alone)

How to Find Your Friends After the End of the World is a fantasy inspired by the isekai anime genre. Five friends in their 20s are on earth as it is wracked by a violent battle between the Heroine of the Gods and her Nemesis, and then, suddenly, they aren't. Earth has been destroyed and they are now on a new planet, in new (non-human) bodies, strewn across continents! On their new wrists, they have tattoos with each others' names, plus one (or two) new ones: their soulmates. Court politics and wastelands of monsters await them as they try desperately to reach each other, and their soulmates try desperately to reach them.

HtFYF will also have a prequel, focusing on the events that led to earth's destruction, and the battle between the Heroine of the Gods, a young woman, and her Nemesis, who seems to know more about the gods than she says. Why do the gods keep choosing such young heroes? What has the Nemesis done to put the world in such peril? Will the Heroine get to graduate on time despite the sleep she's been missing!?

The following do not yet have titles, but are fully fleshed out works ready to be thrown onto Substack:

A trilogy of eleven teens assisting in the fight against an agency that traffics, tortures, and then sells children with preternatural powers and abilities, and an exploration of the trauma those kids emerge with.

A murder mystery where a woman's sister dies, the police rule it suicide, and the woman enlists the help of a rumored contract killer to help her solve the murder-- but why does this rumored murderer-for-hire seem to know so much about her sister's death? And who was truly responsible?

A campy novel about a woman who graduates college, goes back to her hometown, and finds her highschool crush is still there, still single, and has since come out as gay. Of course, the only solution is to co-adopt an at-risk child from a neighbor.

This post will remain pinned on my profile, but for the next few days I'm having a sale on my substack tiers-- 20% off! That makes the cost to you just $8 per month to get a chapter every other day. 15 chapters for $8; that's a steal!

[borealisbarbie]

borealis masterlist-

summary: Dawson is a contracted thief working a risky job procuring what he is told is a powerful weapon from a shady research lab. Juno is said powerful weapon- a victim of prolonged experimentation and testing, now deemed ready for sale to the highest bidder. The job goes horribly wrong, Dawson is nearly caught, and now has both the research lab and his sketchy employers after him, with Juno as his very unwilling and very demanding tagalong.

tags: queer (m/m), sci fi, heists, kidnapping, mystery, on the run, human experimentation, grumpy x bitchy, forced proximity, annoyances to lovers, there was only one bed, contained character list, overprotectiveness, codependency, hurt/comfort, angst, wip

content warnings: noncon body modification, gaslighting, kidnapping, gun violence, language, smut (posted separately as one shots, fade to black in the actual series), torture, anxiety, PTSD, tbd.

tbd.

tbd.

chapter one chapter two (posting Monday, March 25th)

[bookshelvesandtealeaves]

✨ BOOK REVIEW ✨

Murder at the Matinee by Jamie West

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[instagram]

Jamie West has delivered another fun, cosy, exciting murder mystery with Murder at the Matinee.

I loved being back with Bertie and Hugh and the theatre. I was so sad when I thought they weren’t going to be working together and was so glad when I’d been over dramatically wrong.

Bertie is such an easy character to love. He’s gentle and affable and I think it’s him more than anything that makes me classify these books as cosy. It’s like settling in with an old friend.

The murder mystery was fun. Another somewhat closed-door mystery, which I don’t read nearly enough of. I didn’t pick the murderer at all, though I’m never very good at that to begin with, but it sure kept me guessing.

If you’re looking for a light murder mystery to read in the upcoming season, I definitely recommend picking this one up.

[elsinore-and-inverness]

If you enjoy my writing, I have published a — very nonbinary, very autistic — mystery novel.

A mystery novel about a rock band finding a dead body in a parking lot.

It’s been compared it to many things (Glass Onion, Poker Face, This Is Spinal Tap, Hedwig and the Angry Inch) but ultimately it’s like if Life On The Murder Scene was an episode of Sherlock.

Once a small-town journalist, now publicist to an international rockstar, Richard (or sometimes Violet — she's genderfluid) has his work cut out for him. Richard's client is the nonbinary frontrunner of American rock band The Stone Dandelions, a lovably quirked up gaggle of nerdy kids who have taken the music industry by storm. Unfortunately, his client seems to want nothing more than to be cancelled on Twitter, and the fact that there was a dead body found outside one of the roadie's vans is the least of Richard's worries. For you see, while all of this is happening, Violet's girlfriend has been caught up in a major IP lawsuit over her West End playwrighting debut and she's always been the one to believe in her the most. The Stone Dandelion's biggest fan is a high schooler named Ash. They have a photographic memory, questionable social skills, unshakeable confidence and rarely take off their headphones. Ash has just taken up a career as a consulting detective, and they might just be the one to figure out how everything is connected. Or maybe it's up to the rockstar's therapist who moonlights as a true crime podcaster, or to the lawyer for the prosecution on Violet's girlfriend's case, who is going into acting upon losing their seat in parliament. Part atmospheric noir, part fuzzy rock-and-roll romp through the streets of London These Flowers Might Be Ours takes an affectionate glance askance at the mechanics of a crime novel.

[jarofrebukepodcast]

Reblog and tell us your favorite Jar of Rebuke scene... but describe the scene as poorly as possible! 🤣

[menoasmess]

Book review !

I’m a huge fan of C.S Poe’s Memento mori serie, since I’ve finished the third one I decided to read all of her books while waiting for the fourth one 🫡.

Southernmost murder is a standalone, and it’s the perfect entry for C.S Poe works ! It’s funny, full of banter and a mystery that will keep you on your toes.

Aubrey is hilarious, he has narcolepsy and he’s full of sarcasm, and Jun is a sweetheart. It’s impossible to not love them both. I wouldn’t object to have more of them 🤞

It was super funny to see Sebastian too (he’s from Snow and Winter serie).

The mystery is super intriguing and the reveal was both satisfying and heartbreaking.

Anyway if you enjoy small town vibe, pirate stuff and swooning romance: then pick this one up !

[unstablebill]

TWO HUGE UPDATES:

October is FURRY BOOK MONTH and you can save 10% on my book RIGHT NOW with code FBM2024 at checkout. (Remember this is an independent publisher so 10% is a big deal lol)

Second is: I posted all of Chapter 1 as a free sample on Furaffinity ... read it here for free RIGHT NOW! 🤩

For Pride as a Special Treat™ I'm buying a BLAZE of my queer murder mystery novel! 🤩 PLEASE LOOK UPON IT!

I love cozy mysteries but there is a distinct lack of them in queer/furry spaces, so I wrote one 😌 You can find it on lovely indy press Furplanet at the link below! 4 illustrations and covers by @jayfitzmaurice

A Summer Vacation to Die For

Dr. Ino Reamer has a lot of plans for his summer vacation — relaxing, working out, trying to conquer the crushing ennui of his 30s. Solving a murder was not part of these plans. But when a colleague's grim demise very nearly ends Ino's tenure, the hyena can't help but apply the scientific method to his search for the truth. When a few suspicious characters take note of Ino's investigation, the case takes on a new urgency, and now Ino must crack the case before Finals Week becomes his final week! 😱

386 pages, rated R (murder off screen)

https://furplanet.com/shop/item.aspx?itemid=1202

(you CAN get it on Amazon but please support my independent publisher!!)

"Enthralling murder mystery? Check. Loveable furry characters? Check. Adorable/cheesy romance? Double-check. If you share any of these interests, I highly recommend picking up this book, you won't regret it!" - review

This is part 1 of a planned 4 part series so please watch me for updates on my upcoming books. I am a small author so I appreciate the support - please follow and reblog and like and share and subscribe and whatever else we do these days!

Thank you for reading! 😁

[geeklyinc]

Rough Pages Review: Be Dangerous, Read Books

Rough Pages Review: Be Dangerous, Read Books

It’s no secret that I am a big fan of Lev AC Rosen’s Evander Mills series. The first two books, Lavender House and The Bell in the Fog were on my favorites lists for the past two years. When I interviewed Rosen last year he spoke about how Lavender House was his Agatha Christie, and …

[maybeimcursed]

Happy pride, and throwback to like 3 years ago when my grandma got me and my sibling each a bisexual pencil pouch thing.

While both me and my sibling are queer, neither of us were out to any family members, other than eachother. And furthermore, neither of us are bisexual.

This has mystifyed both me and my sibling for years and will likely continue to mystify us.

[the7livesofmillygray]

the 7 lives of milly gray (3)

[jaycetorbendarkbooks]

Coming Soon

A queer Sherlock Holmes variation

[borealisbarbie]

borealis

chapter 1.: for now, it's time to run chapter tags: queer (m/m), sci fi, heists, kidnapping, referenced human experimentation, grumpy x bitchy, angst chapter warnings: implied noncon body modification, technical kidnapping, gun violence, language, mild gore, PTSD word count: 4243 A/N: the first chapter of my baby is here and ready to be shared! this is the first original work i'm posting in more than 5 years so i'm super excited to finally start sharing her with you all!

playlist || pinterest || masterlist

   Every time he had to break into a building Dawson was acutely jealous of the shows and movies he’d watched as a kid— his life would be so much smoother if he could just slide through a couple air vents and be done with it! But no, instead here he was, 2am on a Thursday, knee deep in piles of whatever undoubtedly filthy laundry an illegal medical laboratory produced. Not his favorite way to enter a place, but it was one less code to remember— just a single key to lift off of an unaware janitor. The face mask he wore felt inadequate, but it would have to do. 

  The laundry facilities were on the very bottom floor of the lab, but Dawson’s target was only a few floors up— packed up and ready to be transported for sale tomorrow morning, according to Dawson’s employer. He didn’t know what, exactly, it was that he was stealing, but he wasn’t in any position to turn down a job that paid this much. He made his way swiftly down the hall and up the barren stairwell— which had required a convoluted code to open— in silence. The stairwell opened into a short hallway, only three doors occupying the limited space. He strode towards the 2nd door on the left, as his intel had instructed, and input yet another door code. The little blinking blue light swiftly turned green and the door slid open, bringing a satisfied smirk to the thief’s face. That smirk drops when he takes in the contents of the small room. Whipping his phone out of his breast pocket, he pulls up the single blurry shot of the case he’s supposed to be looking at.

   That shitty fucking intel, is all Dawson can think, looking from the picture of his target on his phone back to the large metal crate looking thing that stood in the center of the cargo hold. He was here for a weapon, sure, but a fancy gun or laser sword, not something he would need a damn forklift to move. The crate had a number pad on its side, which would explain the extra passcode he’d been given. He lays his gun down within easy reach inputs the code, wincing as each button press emits a loud ping sound. It’s an obnoxiously long code too, even for some high-tech government laboratory, but finally he types in the last digit and hits enter. The box’s seams glow an ominous red before blinking to green, and there is the hiss of hydraulics before the lid of the box lifts and recedes on its own. Thick clouds of fog rise and quickly dissipate, revealing the contents; his target. It’s not a gun like he had hoped, or a bomb, or even a tiny, mysterious microchip. 

   It’s a dude. A curled slip of man, nude and nestled into perfectly cut out insulating foam. Dawson inhaled sharply, taking a step back. Because what the fuck. What the fuck was this? Was he stealing a corpse? Apparently not, because just as he goes to step closer, reaching out a hand to check for a pulse, the still form suddenly heaves a ragged breath and flies into a frenzy of movement, flinging himself from the box in a panic. Dawson reaches blindly behind himself for his gun on the table, clicking off the safety and pointing it at the man— fuck the payout, he wasn’t about to be mauled or maimed by some feral lab experiment! The man doesn’t attack though, instead scuttling backwards until he hits the wall, wild gaze flitting about and taking in his surroundings with an expression of pained confusion. When his gaze settles on Dawson the thief clutches his gun tighter and lets out a hissed curse; because those eyes are not human eyes. They shine an unnatural shade of teal, and the pupils shift and dilate like the lens of a camera. Mechanical. 

   But not one like anything Dawson has seen before, not even the fancy pretty ones the wealthy like to flaunt online. He’s breathing for one, still dragging in labored and brittle breaths, and sweat drips down his face, dampening unkempt curls. There’s an air of humanity to him that shouldn’t be possible in a mechanical.

“Who are you?” Dawson finally grits out, knowing that the clock is ticking and he doesn't really have time for an in-depth interrogation. The man just recoils further against the wall, though his breathing does at last appear to be mellowing out. A glance down at his watch shows that he has exactly 17 minutes to make his escape before the change of the security guards. “Fine, don’t talk. Look, I've got less than 20 minutes to get out of here so it looks like you’re coming with me. I was expecting a nice little carrying case, but I can make this work.” Still no reaction. Dawson feels a little bad for the mech— inhuman or not, the fear in his face and body language is palpable. He lowers his gun with a sigh before coming forward to kneel in front of the man, meeting his gaze with what he hopes is a reassuring expression— he’s not the expert on comforting scared people. There’s a barely audible hum as the mans’ eyes focus on Dawson, repeating that same camera lens effect.

“Look, clearly I don't know what’s going on here and neither do you, but I don't think you want to hang around here— they had you locked in a box in a basement. Something fucked up is happening here, and you can either come with me, or you can stay and try explaining to them how you got out of that box on your own. I don’t think the people here would be very happy with you escaping, do you?” And yeah, maybe it’s cruel to manipulate him like this, but whatever got him off of the floor and got them out of the lab was good enough for Dawson.

“Juno.” he blinks at the abrupt tone, but nods anyway. He— Juno, apparently— could speak, at least. 

“Great. Nice to meet you Juno, I’m Dawson. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” And with that, Dawson stands yet again, this time taking Juno by the wrist and pulling him up to stand too. It’s sheer luck that hanging on the back of the chair in the otherwise barren room is an abandoned lab coat— he swiftly covers the mech’s nude form with the white fabric and instructs him to keep close and keep quiet, before leading them out of the room. 

   The long reaching hall is still blessedly empty as far as Dawson can tell, and it should remain so for the next five minutes— enough time to get them to the ground floor. Gun at the ready he pulls an annoyingly slow-paced Juno along— the smallest thing seems to distract the mech, as if they are not currently trying to escape a life or death (or unpleasant jail time) situation. They reach a fork, the hallway splitting into two identical paths. The map Dawson’s employer had provided said to go to the left, but Juno refuses to follow, digging his bare heels into the ground when Dawson tries to jerk him along.

“Not that way.” the mech unhelpfully says, a mulish expression on his face. He tilts his head in a way that suggests he is listening to something, and that something is evidently not Dawson— or anything Dawson can hear, because both halls are silent. “This way.” and he shifts his hand so he is the one holding onto Dawson now and, much to the thief’s chagrin, tugs him along without any effort, taking the right hall. They come to a stop in front of a closed door, which doesn’t budge when Dawson jiggles the handle. 

“A dead end, seriously?” he hisses at the now bored looking mech. “I have been studying the schematics of this building for the last three months, kid, our way out was the other hallway!” He’s about to throw the mech over his shoulder and carry him to the proper exit fireman style, when Juno none too gently shoves him aside and gives the door handle a single firm yank. There is the sharp sound of wood cracking before the door gives way, swinging open, easy as anything now that a skinny little mechanical has just ripped the locking mechanism out of the damn door. 

“Faster. And no cameras.” He gently sets the door handle and its guts on the ground, before gesturing for Dawson to lead the way once again. Something was seriously wrong with this mech and the way he functioned, but there was no time for him to ponder that. Quickly familiarizing himself with this portion of the map, Dawson manages to navigate himself and the mech up to the first floor. Which was where things were going to get seriously tricky. Where the bottom levels had been paroled by a barebones crew, the main floors were much more stringently supervised— guards patrolled each end of each level in synchronized pairs, armed to the teeth in the latest tech and paid handsomely enough that there wasn’t much they wouldn’t do for the company. Their escape would have to be timed perfectly, and helpful as he could apparently be, there was no time for deviations from Juno.

“You do what I say from here on out, got it? I’m not about to die because you think you found a shortcut.” The mech nods, but the mulish expression is back— quite the contrast from the trembling, fear filled thing he’d been just a few minutes ago. Time would tell if it was a welcome change. “And— hey, this is important—” he adds sharply, noting the mech’s gaze beginning to wander once again, this time distracted by the rattling of the air con. “If I get shot, or if they catch me? Don’t fucking leave me to die, got it? I am not getting paid enough to die for you. You come back for me.” The mech nods and it’s go time.

   Dawson’s favorite kind of jobs were the ones where he got to break out the fancy equipment— harnesses for repelling down buildings, gadgets to disable alarm systems or cut through the glass of windows or display cases. But sadly, this was not that sort of job. Initially, his escape plan was to walk out completely undetected after going back the way he came, but by now someone was sure to have noticed Juno’s little door demolishment; it was only a matter of time before security was alerted of their presence. And unfortunately, he wasn't exactly able to tuck the mech into a backpack or pocket like he could have with his typical targets. So instead they had to do things the much more dangerous, life-threatening way, and tiptoe through the halls just as they emptied of guards, letting the timing of the guards’ schedule do the heavy lifting for them. So long as they didn’t do anything overt or loud, they were in the clear.

   So of course. Of course Juno— who walked so silently Dawson could almost forget he was there if not for the bruising grip he had on his hand— slips on the slick tile, letting out a small cry as his ankle twists. It’s faint, but it’s a noise, and that’s all it takes for the sound of boots pounding in their direction to pick up. With a curse Dawson pushes the mech more fully behind him, sandwiched between his back and the wall, and clicks the safety off his gun once again. He can feel the mech breathing harshly against his neck, and thin fingers dig painfully into his hand as two guards come from each direction, cornering them with guns drawn. Dawson notes that they do not aim at them, despite clearly having the upper hand.

“Who are you, how did you get access to this floor?” One guard barks while another approaches, pulling handcuffs from his belt and reaching for Juno. And that, apparently, is the wrong thing to do, because the mech’s gaze snaps to the guard’s hand, and in the space of what can only be a few seconds the mech darts a hand out and grabs the guard, pulling him in close before flinging him bodily towards the other set of guards, sending them all tumbling down into a pile of limbs. The remaining guard, the one with the gun, quickly descends into panic, waving his gun around and shouting. Still, no actual shots are fired. Dawson is torn between trying to talk his way out of this or just knocking him out when Juno makes an executive decision. Hand outstretched like a superhero in one of the old movies Dawson watched as a kid, unnerving gaze glowing, and a little ball of light grows in his hand, giving off sparks and increasing in size until it’s on par with a large marble. The mech— or whatever the hell he actually was because mechanicals couldn’t form matter— closes his hand around it and the light disappears. Juno then opens his hand to reveal a shiny silver ball and Dawson only has a moment to study it before it flies forward and embeds itself in the guard’s chest, punching a hole straight through. 

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaims, roughly wiping the blood spray from his face. Juno merely blinks, eerily unaffected, and follows easily when Dawson grabs him and drags him full speed from the scene. Hopefully the shock of their coworker's violent death keeps the other guards off their tail long enough for them to escape. 

   They make it to the exit, but Dawson would be hard pressed to recall how the hell they did it. After escaping the lab itself, it’s a simple matter of slipping down several tiny alleyways and taking a few twisty little side roads until they reach Dawson’s bike. Which swiftly presents the next dilemma; getting the lab grown superpowered mech onto said bike. Juno accepts the helmet easily enough, and even puts it on himself, though he bats away Dawson’s hands when he tries to adjust the straps. He sits behind Dawson when he says to, wrapping thin arms about the thief’s waist. He’s perfectly compliant until the bike turns on. The second it roars to life the mech is gone, scrambling off of the bike and away from its now offensive form.

“NO!” he yells, pointing an accusing finger at Dawson as he shuts off the bike and tries to approach Juno placatingly. “It’s too loud, I don’t like it!” It’s the most he’s heard from the mech since he opened that damn box. Dawson isn’t keen on having his head exploded or being set on fire, or whatever other powers Juno possessed, and so they are at an impasse. 

“What do you want from me here, kid? We need to get out of here, and this is how we do that.” He gestures behind him to the bike. “It’s perfectly safe, I promise.” The mech glares unwaveringly from under stringy curls, and he appears to be shivering— from the cold or from shock, it was hard to tell. Either way, he needed to get him indoors and fast. Could mechs even get sick from exposure? 

“Come on, we’ll get you some clothes, something to eat…” The promise of food seems to do the trick, mistrusting gaze softening to something almost hopeful. 

“Chocolate, I want chocolate, the shiny ones.” Demanding thing.

“I— Yeah, yeah okay. Get on the bike and we’ll find you some damn chocolate.” He offers his hand again to pull Juno back behind him on the bike, but he’s still a little surprised when icy fingertips graze his own. Again, he wonders if it’s a product of Juno’s inhumanity or the winter temperatures. Dawson guides him onto the bike, holding an arm securely over the thin ones clinging with much more fervor to his waist before starting the bike. Juno gives a little whine of fear but doesn’t run away this time, so Dawson counts it as a win and takes off. 

   20 minutes later and they pull up to a dark, run-down looking building. Dawson shuts off the bike and after some light jostling manages to get Juno to let go and get off the bike, before leading the mech inside. The interior is just as grim as the exterior— a welcome desk that has sat unoccupied since Dawson moved in fills one corner, while a pile of unusable cleaning supplies from when there was a cleaning crew 10 years ago takes up the lobby. Juno is again taking in his surroundings with all the interest and newness of a child or cartoon alien, running his fingers across a tabletop before grimacing at the thick dust that now clings to them. Dawson wrinkles his nose when the mech absently wipes the grime on his pilfered coat, drawing attention to how out of place he looks outside of the illegal lab setting— barefoot and clad only in a now bloodstained and filthy lab coat, which slides off one shoulder as it has lost several buttons. The dried and flaking blood spatter across what would otherwise be a sweet face completes the upsetting visage.

“Let’s go, we can’t let anyone see you like this.” He takes Juno by the hand and leads him up to his apartment, smirking a little when the mech groans at the sight of several flights of stairs. It was nice to know that there was some humanity programmed into him. 

10 floors later and they’re finally there.

“Home sweet home…” Dawson mumbles under his breath, pulling his keys out and opening the door. Juno all but runs inside, leaving the thief alone to lock back up. He kicks off his shoes by the door and then follows the sounds of Juno’s exploring to the living room, where the mech is stroking the blanket strewn carelessly over the back of the couch with reverent hands. Dawson clears his throat, feeling a little bad when he jerks his hands back as if burned.

“There’s a shower through there, go get washed up and I’ll have some clothes ready for you when you’re done.” he points to the doorway on the left. Juno seems to deflate before nodding shortly, stripping off the ruined lab coat right there in the living room, which… Okay, technically Dawson had already seen him nude, but he hadn’t planned on doing it again any time soon. He averts his eyes, and before he can muster up a response, the mech is gone, and the sound of the tub running starts up shortly. Shaking his head, Dawson grabs a trash bag from the kitchen to store the coat for now, planning on burning the thing when he gets the chance rather than risking someone finding it in the trash and poking around. Then he goes to his closet to find the aforementioned clothes he promised Juno.

   He doesn’t have much that will fit the slight mech, but he digs up a sweater from an old fling and some shorts with a tie that would work until he could get to a shop. There’s no underwear, but he suspects the mech isn’t used to wearing any anyways. Clothing sorted, Dawson decides to tackle the food problem. He’s not sure what the mech can eat, or, in all honesty, what in his kitchen is still edible. 

   The fridge is hours away from becoming a biohazard zone, and the fruit bowl on the counter has sat empty since the day his elderly neighbor brought it over as a housewarming gift. The pantry, however, yields a mostly not stale pack of crackers, a jar of pickles, and a half empty bag of halloween candy. He arranges his findings on one of the two plates he owns before checking his watch and frowning. It’s been less than 10 minutes and yet he can already hear Juno turning off the shower. There’s a pleased sound and then the quiet shuffling of someone getting dressed. 

   Juno emerges not soon after, rubbing a towel aggressively over his head. He has forgone the shorts for some unknown reason, but the sweater does technically cover everything, the hem hanging awkwardly to graze the mech’s bruised knees, and Dawson lets it slide, taking the towel from him before he can drop it carelessly to the ground like he clearly plans to. He takes one of the mech’s eternally cold hands and leads Juno over to sit at the table, setting the plate of food in front of him. Immediately he can tell he’s made some sort of grave error— those unnatural eyes narrow, and the mech pokes at one of the little gherkins with an unimpressed air.

“What… are those?” he asks disdainfully, selecting one of the less offensive crackers to shove into his mouth whole instead.

“They’re pickles, you never seen a pickle before?” Dawson asks defensively, taking one and biting into it with an obnoxious crunch. And maybe it’s a little more sour than usual, what would Juno know about it if it was? The mech just shakes his head, continuing to scarf down crackers whole. He’s a mess of contradiction, equal parts fearful and demanding, knowledgeable and clueless. And then there’s the whole ‘killing people with little balls of light’ thing to consider. Hell, he probably hasn’t ever heard of a pickle before. 

“So… What the hell was going on in that lab?” he finally asks. Juno looks up from his food (he has abandoned the plate and is now digging through the Halloween candy bag, pulling everything out and sorting them into piles— the non-chocolate candy is piling up on the floor beside his chair.) with eyes narrowed with distrust. He clearly isn’t about to bring Dawson into the loop, returning back to his candy sorting with an added flair of irritation. “Oh, so I save your skinny ass— nearly die in the process, might I add, take you in and feed and clothe you, but I can’t ask why they had you stuffed into a box? That seems fair.” He rolls his eyes when he is ignored yet again, reaching across the spindly table and grabbing the bag of candy from the mech’s lax grip. Juno hisses in surprise, baring pearly teeth at him— Dawson is pretty sure the mech might really try to bite him. Very animalistic for something so clearly machine.

“Nuh uh, you get these back when you answer my questions.” The little bastard actually has the nerve to snatch for the bag but he easily holds it out of reach. “Are you going to cooperate?” he reiterates once again, shaking the candy enticingly. Juno heaves a beleaguered sigh before giving a single sharp nod. As a token of good faith Dawson chucks a Twix at him— and is a little miffed when the brat catches it seamlessly.

“Good. Let’s start with something simple: why the hell were you in that box?”

“I always sleep in the box, if I’m not in use.” 

   That's… concerning. Mechs had developed so much in the past decade, it hardly seemed humane to lock them away when they weren’t ‘in use’. And those were just standard mechs, built to be companions, factory workers, and glorified pets. Whatever Juno was, it was clearly nearly human in its’ design, the lab could have at least sprung for a bed for the guy. The mech looks unconcerned though, gnawing at his candy’s wrapper with his teeth.

“What are your prioritized functions?” Some mechs don’t have them preprogrammed, or aren’t allowed to disclose them, but it's worth a shot to ask. Maybe if he knows why the lab was creating hyper realistic mechs, he could better figure out what to do with this one. Again though, Juno just looks confused by his question.

“I don’t know what that means.” It’s said fully deadpan, but Dawson can sense the unspoken disdain. 

“Well what the hell are you, then? They obviously built you for something— are you just some sort of fancy weapon?” This, at last, has an actual, visible effect on Juno. And Dawson immediately regrets saying it. Confusion, hurt, and guilt flicker across his face before his expression settles into something supremely pained. Then the tears come, only to be dashed away by the sleeve of Juno’s borrowed sweater before they can fall. 

“They didn’t. Build me, I mean. No one did. They just… added things. Removed things.” He’s looking down now, fiddling with the candy he still hasn’t managed to free from its wrapper. “I don’t remember everything, side effect of—” he waves his hand vaguely around his head, “but I was— I guess I was sick, as a kid? Really sick, and my family couldn’t afford the treatment, or maybe I didn’t have a family. The lab was running a trial for some special procedure and they picked me. Fixed me right up. Then they… kept finding new things to fix.” Dawson doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond. He settles on pushing the candy back across the table, avoiding the unbearable weight of that odd gaze. Silence, for a few moments. 

Then rustling sounds pick up. 

A package of Skittles hits the linoleum.

[alienbycomics]

In another timeline… this Gravity Falls-inspired comic featuring a popular headcanon about Dipper. I think Mabel would be supportive 🌲🌲

[elsinore-and-inverness]

       “Walking through London at night, Richard felt held, as though the city itself  were applying pressure to all the open wounds on his psyche. He felt like he was being wrapped in bandages, bound, and suspended until there was no room left to be afraid. No room to chafe and jostle. Like he was a correctly installed gear. Like he was some small organ of the breathing multitude. Or something caught in a spiderweb of steel cable. He just had to catch his breath and the bus that would take him home.” 

               - These Flowers Might Be Ours, Merlin Stevens

Aesthetic and first paragraph of chapter 3 of my novel. Now available in paperback, hardcover and eBook.

[nicostiel]

#world’s gayest detective