#mothman romance novel

[3void2]

So, I had a hectic 3 months since I was part of a small game dev team and we (with zero experience) had to build a game in that short period. Well, even though it was exhausting, we managed to do it, and I can finally post some very early character sketches/designs I made for the game. It is a Walking simulator, Visual novel, and Romance parody game, where you get to date people, objects and cryptid monsters.

When the game finally gets published I'll post the link for those curious to try it out!

Featuring some deleted characters.

[maybemockingbird]

Hey everyone! I wanted to let you all know I'm doing some MAJOR things over on Patreon and I've just introduced a brand new "The Night Farm" mega-fan tier called "Full Moon Farmers"!

The Night Farm is a cozy horror romance web novel inspired by Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, Gravity Falls, Welcome to Night Vale, and slice-of-life BL stories! This new tier grants you access to every chapter of the series, including the bonus chapters and NSFW chapters, with regular Friday updates EVERY Friday until mid-2025, which more to be scheduled soon! It will also get you access to monthly giveaways for merch, and an exclusive series of monthly AU stories you REALLY won't want to miss that start in August - including a Cas and Cane mob story, a ghost hunting YouTubers story for Halloween, AND the wonderfully suggested "Farmer Detective" story!

This new tier is active NOW! It has a seven day free trial for you to check out which will give you plenty of time to catch up on the series if you're a newcomer or read ahead if you've been lingering on Tapas and want to get further into the series. So, if you want tons of cool new stuff now's the time to become a Cosmonaut! Especially since the first giveaway is in September and it's for a Night Farm sticker pack (October will be the Mutual Pine Inn keychain, November will be the Midnight Cafe coffee mug, and the one for December will be the physical copy of season one!!!) and you need to be a member for two months to be eligible!

I hope to see y'all over there, I want to keep doing cool things for this series but that requires support and engagement, so your love for Wylder Wood and its residents means everything!

You can check it out at:

Patreon.com/AlyciaDavidsonAuthor

[mermaidsirennikita]

Happy spooky szn to the greatest vampire romance of all time

[thebibliosphere]

In somewhat humorous news, my mother got into a quandary today involving some former coworkers.

Before Hunger Pangs broke containment, I asked my mother not to tell people back home what my author name was because I didn't want to deal with the homophobia I'd get from certain family members if they knew I was writing queer romance. I also didn't want certain people to know because I knew they'd find my social media and fucking doxx me. Not out of any maliciousness, mind you, but just sheer fucking Internet safety incompetence.

Like we're talking the type of people who'll go onto your Instagram and use your full birth name-- regardless of your preferred name -- while asking if you remembered hanging out that one time near your parent's house-- you know, the place with the [RECOGNIZABLE LANDMARK] next to the [PRACTICALLY A GPS LOCATION.]

Yeah.

Anyway, my mother was cool with that because she also, quite frankly, didn't want people to know her only daughter was writing queer filth for a living. (Does anyone else remember when she told me I should apologize to @mothman-etd's mother for writing sex in my stories? Because I sure do.) That was until Hunger Pangs broke containment, and my mother, to her own shock, decided she was proud of me.

I think it was when she logged onto Amazon, expecting to see people one-starring it and calling it degenerate filth, but instead found over 300+ 5-star reviews screaming about how much they loved it and how much it meant to them, that she realized that maybe, sometimes, sex stories are okay.

(Amazingly, she pivoted and latched onto Vlad smoking being the worst thing about it and how I should be ashamed to write about characters that smoke, lol.)

Anyway. She bumped into an old coworker today and was so excited to tell them how well I was doing she forgot that a) she doesn't like telling people what I write about and b) I'd asked her not to tell certain people that it wasn't until she'd gotten through the whole "oh yes, doing very well, living in America writing books" spiel that she realized what she'd done and clamped her mouth shut.

She didn't name me or the book title, but it was too late because said former coworker went and told everyone else she used to work with, and now my mother's been invited to tea at the local church village tea shop with an ensemble of formidable gossips, specifically to talk about my book.

So, anyway, I may or may not be about to get accidentally doxxed, but my mother is the one about to walk into the local church and tell everyone the kid they threw out 20+ years ago for being a disobedient pain in the ass with Views about Christianity is now relatively popular online for writing best-selling queer romance novels about vampires and werewolves fucking in a soft BDSM dynamic, featuring blatant magic use and a prologue which talks explicitly about imprisoning and killing God(s).

*jazz hands*

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 26 (Masturbation)

Kink: Masturbation

Pairing: Mothman x GN!Reader

Other Kinks: Consensual Voyeurism, Mutual Masturbation

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1091 words

Kinktober Masterlist

There is a vivid squelch, silicone against lube, when you press the dildo into you. It’s loud, wet, and perfectly lewd. The kind of sound you’d hear amped up in volume in a schlocky porno or some hentai. It’s the kind of sound you’d avoid making in fear of being caught; But your partner is gone, has been for the past 3 days, to help in the forewarning of an oncoming disaster two states over.

And gods, how you have missed him.

A year ago you never thought you’d be this touchstarved, this desperate for affection for one man’s touch. You thought that kind of stuff was only in romance novels and smutty fanfiction, accepting that no human man was ever going to be that exciting, leaving you wanting so much more.

Well, you had been right about the human part, at least.

Still, your body ached for the soft feeling of your partner's fuzzy wings, his long fingers which always held onto your waist so gently. His ruby red eyes that seemed to stare directly into your soul, always filled with a gentlemanly love, even when he had you bent over a table.

“Hmmm, Atticus.” You moan, feeling the fake balls of your toy nudge against your entrance, sunken full inside of you. “It feels so good.”

Familiar with a…tool this size, you waste no time and begin to thrust it in and out, moaning your sweet partner's name as you do. You imagine his deep, southern drawl. His claws running down the side of your face. His antennae twirling and buzzing as you come undone for him.

You even imagine the familiar tapping on your window, the one he always uses to sneak into your bed late at night. So quiet despite being 7 feet tall.

“Oh my.”

And now you can even hear-

Wait.

Your eyes shoot open, sitting up from bed, realizing you now lie spread eagle in front of your very-real boyfriend who is very much actually present in your bedroom.

His antennas tutter back and forth, hand thrown over his mouth like a shocked 50s housewife. The dildo slides an inch out of you as you scramble upward, something like an excuse on your lips, face red hot with embarrassment.

“Did you miss me that much?” Your partner chuckles, lighthearted, a matching blush lighting up his black fur.

“I-” You stutter, wondering if he heard you calling out his name. You may have been dating for a year now, but still, being caught by your refined, almost-victorian gentleman partner is a little mortifying.

“Well, if it helps.” Atticus’ voice sinks to a lower octave, big eyes narrowed like a smirk. “I missed you a whole lot too.”

The hand around his mouth slides down his chest, leading your eye across his scrumptious body, right to his unsheathed cock.

When did he even get that out?

“C’mon baby.” Atticus drawls. “Keep going.” He sits down in a corner chair, stroking his swollen dick. “Gimme a show.”

A shiver rolls down your spine.

My god, where’d he learn to talk like that?

You ain’t complaining, slipping back to your comfortable position, making sure to keep your legs extra wide. You slide the dildo all the way back in.

Atticus hums in approval, hand rubbing at his flushed head.

“How's it feel?”

“Good.” You pant, slowly rocking the dildo in and out, making sure to press it extra hard with each thrust.

“As good as mine?” Mothman chuckles, rubbing some leaking precum down his shaft with his thumb.

You eye up his cock, biting your lip.

“No.” You gasp, the dildo hitting a particular sensitive spot, sending tingles down to your toes. “Not even close.”

“Hmm, but good enough while I was away?” His eyes shoot to the clear bottle of lube on your bedside table, almost halfway empty. “Seems it got put to work.”

“Couldn’t-” You breath hitches, spreading up your pace, “Couldn't h-help myself. Missed your cock so much.”

You throw your hips up, making a show of your entrance clenching around the thick shaft of the dildo. Lube and juices trickle down the curve of your ass.

Atticus remains dignified, silent as he lazily jerks himself off. But you know the signs by now, see the way his chest tightens and his antennae twitch.

“That right?” Atticus’ other hand reaches down and begins rubbing at the slit where his cock protrudes, an extra sensitive spot you're well acquainted with. “This cock missed you too.” He finally shows some sign of his pleasure, a small hitch in his articulation when he squeezes his head. “Missed that tight hole, missed filling it up.” He rolls his neck, a move he knows you love, showing off the sinewy muscle as it cracks. “Hmm, felt like torture, not being able to fuck you whenever I wanted.”

Your wrist aches and goes ignored, your focus solely on Atticus and the burning fire in your belly. You hang off every word like it’s gospel, letting it sink into your chest and stir up your insides.

“You got me addicted, honey. How could I resist coming home early?” Precum squirts out his head, splattering the top of his hand. “Knowing I’d have such a sweet little thing to greet me?”

Your moans are breathy, vision getting fuzzy are your orgasm climbs. Your brain wants to close them to ignore everything else and focus on your high, but you force them on Atticus. His cock twitches in his hands, and you think you can make out a low “Damn.” as he jerks it.

“You gonna cum?” Atticus asks.

All you can do is nod, head stuffed with cotton and legs trembling. You imagine it’s his cock, the cock in front of your eyes, fucking you open. That it's his hands wrapped around your hips, his pelvis in between your thighs.

Atticus leans forward, cock still humping into his palm, but those big eyes only on you.

“Then cum.”

“Ahh-nggh!” You keen, hips spasming as your orgasm wracks your body, exploding across your abdomen and miking your toy.

Your limbs feel heavy, sweat dripping down your chest. The toy slips out of you and you pant, leaving trails of lube on the bed. Its that post-orgams kind of high that has you going “Wait, what was I doing again?”

“Good job.”

You don’t even have the energy to react when you feel Mothman’s palm against your face, not even wondering how he moved over so quickly, now straddling your hips.

“Now, it’s my turn.”

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

A Freak and A Basket Case: The Seven Inches of Satanic Panic Edition

Chapter 3: Here Comes The Feeling

“ Oh God, where were you when I needed you?

I know that you, no,

You would never have betrayed me… ”

A/N: I’m back, bitches.

I took a break between Gladiator fics to pretty up chapter 3 of my OC fic. This was a really fun one to gussy up, especially during the rewriting of the Dune flashback. I don’t know what kind of hold Dune has on me, but it’s very much still there. However I’m more hung up on the 1984 version, Kyle MacLachlan has me in a chokehold.

Hope you all enjoy. Thanks so much for sticking with me so far.

Masterlist | Previous

Credits: Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive

Tag List: @melodymunson @writhingg @jozstankovich @rxqueenotd @trashmouth-richie @i-trash-about-things @ali-r3n @somnambulic-thing @mothmans-left-buttcheek @theold-ultraviolence

Warnings: Direct reference to specific instances of period typical racism, references to drug use, some smutty themes

“You ever read Clan of the Cave Bear?” Alejandra asked.

It was such a non sequitur. She heard an obnoxious snort threaten to turn into laughter.

“No, what… what the hell is that?” Eddie was red faced. Giggling.

“Prehistoric science fiction, bro.” She said in a low voice, “Caveman shit.”

“Cavemen?!”

Eddie guffawed. Covering his face with his hands as his giggles threatened again.

“It’s not funny!” She whined, unable to control her own cackling.

The distinctly pungent, acrid odor of Eddie’s own stash of what he called “longbottom leaf” (really, just a bad code name for his own recreational reefer) had already gone stale in the enclosed space they found themselves in. The shared smoke had gone stale in her baby lungs, and Alejandra coughed as she laughed.

“I’m so… ha! I… I’m sorry…” Eddie insisted, taking a deep breath and exhaling through pursed lips. “I’m sorry. But you said… you said it’s about cavemen?”

It took Alejandra a while to maintain herself. Spittle had shot down the wrong pipe and made her nearly gag. Holding up a finger, she made sure it all hacked out, inhaled deeply, then nodded with a grin.

“Yeah like, a girl from the Cro-Magnon people gets adopted by a group of Neanderthals and she becomes this hunter who’s all bad, right?” She said, moving her hands as though she was holding a spear, “Then she gets kicked out of her cave after giving up her son to start her own path, and the second book opens up with her in this valley where she tames a horse and a lion cub. Real girl power shit. But it’s crap.”

“Why crap?”

“Because the girl then turns into this air headed romance novel heroine, and she meets her perfect jock caveman boyfriend.” Alejandra said. “And the book gets all torcido in the second novel. You wanna know what her boyfriend Jondalar’s biggest flaw is?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by Alejandra’s retelling of the best selling prehistoric fiction novel.

"Lay it on me. What's the great character flaw of Jondalar, the Flintstone-era Mr. Perfect?"

“He’s sad because no girl on earth can handle his huge fucking wiener.”

Eddie screamed.

Honest to god screamed.

Screamed like a banshee being gutted, and then dissolved into the worst fit of laughter she had ever seen. Eddie collapsed against the van door, laughing so hard Alejandra could have sworn she saw his butt cheeks clenching in his worn Wrangler Jeans. The kind of clenching that comes from trying not to laugh so hard you accidentally fart.

Eddie took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but the idea of a sad, dimwitted caveman crying over his mammoth dick was too much.

"I swea… I… I swear… Oh Jesus H. Christ!” he paused, wheezing before he finally inhaled and managed to speak, “God dammit. What the fuck is this… How in hell did edgy caveman sex even get the go ahead from a publisher?!"

“Evidently Jean M. Auel had a lot of money and a lot of free time to be traveling to sites where they dug up remains. So the first one was just creative enough to get published, then the second sold purely on sex.”

Alejandra sat up straight on the leather seats of Eddie’s 1979 GMC Gaucho. Her fingers danced along the leather of the back bench seat, silently enjoying the tactile wonderland where the top grain of the leather had begun to disintegrate.

“Like… imagine though?” She said, voice lowering to a conspiratory whisper, as if Jean M. Auel herself was squatting outside of the windows listening in, “You spend all kinds of money to actually learn how to make stone tools and a lean to, and then you go and fuck it all up writing about sad peepee man over here.”

Eddie laughed even harder, his shoulders shaking and his face now burning red as a tomato.

"Peepee man, oh my fucking God... all that free time and money to learn about the Stone Age, just to turn it into a cringe-fest with Jondalar and his mammoth-size... oh shit!"

There was a frantic scrambling to prevent disaster after Eddie’s muddy Reeboks knocked over a full ashtray— a yellowed glass relic perched haphazardly on the front seat’s armrest. A few old roaches flew with the stubby blunt in a sea of ashes onto the already filthy floor. Eddie looked at Alejandra, looked at the mess, then began howling again with laughter. She burst into laughter too, a delayed reaction when she realized what happened.

When they both finally looked up at one another after a moment of calm, she noticed Eddie was staring directly at her, smiling widely.

“Damn… you're a bundle of laughs when you're stoned, aren't you? I’ve never met a dork like you who was so captivated by prehistoric wiener.”

“What?! No! I don’t want Jondalar’s unwashed dong!”

“Oh you totally do. What, you like ‘em big like a third leg?”

Pressing his lips together in a firm line, Eddie made a buzzing elephant-like sound, sticking his forearm near his crotch and flapping upwards for emphasis.

“Stop it…” Alejandra threatened, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter, “Don’t make me laugh… I… I’m gonna pee…!”

He was about five seconds away from laughter himself. Biting his lower lip to stop the sound.

“Oh? You want me to stop? Because believe it or not, I’ve got a whole arsenal of stupid shit I can whip out to see how bad you really need to pee… I just don’t have the mammoth trunk package you want me to whip out—…”

A loud yelp erupted from his throat, followed by laughter when Alejandra began swatting him with her Carhartt jacket. The fabric made a snapping sound as it connected with his skin. Eddie wasted no time to hit her back with his denim vest.

They looked like two jocks in the midst of a locker room towel brawl, the jackets making a solid thwack against bare skin amidst their howling and animalistic grunting noises that started up after Eddie started screeching like a capuchin.

Before the van, before the two of them shared the reefer, Eddie had still been holding Alejandra by the waist back at Hawkins High. The two of them were hellbent on basking in the presence of one another, interrupted only when the bell rang to dismiss first period, and Alejandra had honest to god pouted when she heard the obnoxiously loud clanging.

“Don’t make that face.” Eddie had grinned, “Who says we’re going to second period?”

“Huh?!”

“You really think I’m going to let you go to class? Away from me? Hell no, we’ve got better things to do. You’re sticking with me today, lamb chop.”

His voice dropped down into a conspirator’s whisper, hot breath ghosting along her ear as he spoke again.

“Unless…” he teased, “You wanna… you know, be a good girl and go to second period…?”

“Hell no.”

“Didn’t think so.” He grinned. “After all, we only just started getting properly acquainted. What say you to us having a little alone time in my rather… unorthodox school hang out spots?”

He gave a light squeeze. A promise of an exciting adventure.

Alejandra scowled.

“… Bro, I don’t even wanna be at school.” she murmured. “I hate it here.”

His expression softened.

Maybe it was the hint of vulnerability in her voice, or the fact that she looked wilted and drained from her attempts at biting back at the masses. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Lamb chop said she didn’t want to be here, and Eddie seemed determined to make it happen. Desperately trying to please her, from the looks of things.

“Yeah, okay… no, I feel you. This dump was never designed for us cool cats. Let’s face it, we’re too cool for school, lamb chop.”

For a moment Alejandra looked around. Confused as to who Eddie was talking to. Who the hell around here was cool besides him? Certainly not her.

“New game plan: let’s ditch class and go on an adventure. Just you and me.” He said, holding firm to her waist.

“Okay but like… What’s there to do here?”

“Hawkins is our oyster. There’s a lot we can do. We could go cruising, drive to the park, or the lake. There’s even an abandoned scary house on Denfield we can break into. Perfect place to get chased by ghosts, while accompanied by a psychedelic synth number. Hell, sky’s the limit. Anywhere’s more exciting than this shithole.”

“… there’s a lake?”

Alejandra knew lakes. Liked them even. Abiquiu back home was a particular favorite. With the outcropping of mountains in caramel and umber surrounding the blue water in summer, it was a perfect wilderness retreat. Surely, this Hawkins lake would at least be as picturesque with its midwestern greenery and lush forest.

“Yeah. Lover’s Lake. It’s quiet there on a school day. Especially now in the morning. Perfect for an adventure. You in?” Eddie asked.

“I wanna go!”

She sounded like a damn kid. So eager…

No one had ever invited her anywhere before like this. Plenty of her classmates back home ditched class and never faced consequence. One girl back in Pojoaque took off during a pizza party in Geometry— simply because she didn’t bring any cash to chip in— instead she just walked out of the room like nothing while Alejandra sat there watching at her desk, gaping like a fish.

She always wished she had the balls and audacity that girl had. Now she had the opportunity to grow a pair.

Eddie was grinning at her attitude.

“Atta girl! We’d better be sneaky about it, though. I don’t feel like catching hell from dirty old Higgs for a joyride.”

He didn’t wait for her to put out her hand. Eddie grabbed her sweaty palm and began walking to the front doors, dragging her along to follow.

Alejandra laced her fingers with his, eventually grabbing onto his arm as they weaved through throngs of students. Every now and then they looked behind them to see if anyone noticed their flight from Hawkins High. For the most part students and faculty alike avoided Eddie like the plague. Especially now that they saw him coming; with his features set in a resting bitch-faced scowl. A mousy stage five clinger like Alejandra wasn’t even a blip on their radar.

Once outside, the humid summer air punched them both in the face. By the time Eddie led her over to his van, parked all the way in the far corner of the lot, Alejandra was sweating and dying to get in it. She wiped the back of her neck with her hand, letting the cotton duck fabric of her jacket soak up the sweat like a thirsty wick.

Eddie finally parked the two of them in front of the vehicle, holding out his hand. The “ta-dah” was silent, but implied heavily.

“Allow me to introduce my valiant steed: Large Marge.” He said in a deep voice, “Your white-… well, uh, green horse for the day.”

“Large Marge?!”

They both burst out laughing. Eddie even did the Paul Reubens laugh— the one that sounded like a drunk version of The Road Runner, and Alejandra doubled over wheezing.

“A la ve, eres muy pendejo, bro.” Alex laughed.

Immediately she tried the door handle. Just gave it a yank without even making sure the door was unlocked (it was) and hopped into the passenger’s side. Eddie didn’t hesitate either, he just did the Peewee laugh again before he hopped in, slamming the door behind him and making the engine sputter to life when he stuck the key in the ignition.

Without looking in the rearview mirror to make sure anyone was behind him, Eddie peeled out of the lot the second he put the gear in reverse. Alejandra hadn’t even buckled in her belt before he was doing fifty in the school zone lane, hitting every speed bump and pothole on the way out.

"Jesus H., all it took was a Peewee Herman reference to get you in my van?! You're either fearless, oblivious, or just damn crazy," he laughed, rolling down the driver’s side window. “Did McGruff the Crime Dog teach you nothing? I’m pretty sure the first lesson was: don’t get in a strange man’s big ass van.”

“At this point I wouldn’t even care if you were Baron Harkonnen himself.” she said, re-adjusting her belt so it wasn’t strangling her, “I’d still go with you.”

"Well, I promise I'm nothing as sinister as Baron Harkonnen. Just a humble dork who appreciates good humor. Although, I do sometimes dabble in the melange trade." He winked at her as he steered the van.

The ever turning record of thought in Alejandra’s brain scratched to a halt.

Hold on…

“Hold the fucking phone… you… you actually know who the Baron is?” Alejandra asked, looking incredulous.

No one had ever been familiar with her references to Dune, and here was Eddie just casually dropping lines about the Siridar-Baron, and spice melange…

"Of course. Who doesn't know who Baron Vladimir Harkonnen is?" he replied casually, one hand steady on the steering wheel while the other fumbled for a cigarette in the pocket of his denim battle vest.

He must have done it a thousand times. Mesmerized, she watched as— with practiced ease— Eddie steered with one knee, lit his cigarette with one hand using a dented Zippo lighter, sucked in the sweet tobacco of filtered Camels, and blew the smoke out of the window he was cranking down with his remaining free hand.

"Dune's pretty much one of the major foundations for like, every science fiction world out there.” He said nonchalantly, one hand returning to the steering wheel, “It’s got everything. Space, politics, giant sandworms... Without Dune, they’d have Han Solo pushing either booger sugar or disco biscuits instead of spice, considering it was what shaped the sci-fi genre of the 70’s."

“Yeah but…” she protested, unsure how to voice what she was thinking.

"But what? You seem surprised I know of Dune's existence," Eddie said, scratching his chin as he turned onto Mulberry.

“I kind of am.” Alejandra admitted, chewing on her jacket cuff, “I never met no one who could really keep up with my weirding ways…”

She had been buried deep in the desert sands of Arrakis ever since second grade; ever since her father had been tasked with reading her a bedtime story.

Sick with pneumonia and bronchitis, the doctor told her parents that she had to be kept home at least a week, possibly two if the antibiotics did not work. And they hadn’t worked all that well.

Alejandra was inconsolable.

Second grade was so fun because Mrs. Viola made it fun, and at recess Alejandra always played Candy Candy with her best friend Yesenia— and this week it was Alejandra’s turn to be Candy. Yesenia had even promised to let her hold her stuffed raccoon toy.

Instead, her parents kept her home, and force fed Alejandra this disgusting bubblegum pink antibiotic syrup that made her gag. Dad wasn’t working at the time, it would be another month before he started back up with hauling. So instead of dealing with just mom and Jaime, Dad was there to make caldito and read to her from one of his hardcovers from the Waldenbooks in Dallas that he’d bought two summers ago.

The way Dad played the characters was magical. Alejandra loved the gentle intonations of his voice as he read in the Voice of the Kwisatz Haderac: Paul Usul Muad’Dib Atreides, his very birth orchestrated by one of the fearless women of the Bene Gesserit space witches.

Arrakis was Alejandra’s second home. An escape from the world that did not understand her. When she grew into adolescence and longed to be accepted, she filled her lonely days with yearning to ride through burning sand dunes atop Shai-Hulud. She wanted to hold the Gom Jabbar with Alia Atreides as she killed the evil Baron Harkonnen, and to drink the water of life with Lady Jessica to become the next Reverend Mother of Arrakis, the cunning harbinger of an abomination.

She even wanted to join Stilgar and Chani in their holy war, feeling like a Fremen child herself as she had been born and raised in the desert dunes just as they were… Alejandra knew the sacred importance of water, of self sufficiency among the burning sands, and of a culture that often dealt with the realities of the drug trade and the higher powers that orchestrated them.

Six novels and eleven years later, on all levels except physical, she was still very much buried under the spice tinged sands of Dune. If one bothered to look closely, she fancied they might have seen the way the sclera of her eyes had begun to tinge just the slightest hint of blue…

"I've read the first book and seen the David Lynch movie, I went with one of my friends last year." Eddie smiled, glancing over at her briefly before returning to the road, taking a long pull on his cigarette.

“You’re not the only person in Hawkins who's been tainted by the Weirding Way. So I’ll be privy to any little Bene Gesserit mind tricks you try on me, you little space witch.”

"You know, you're really different from anyone I've ever met before. I mean that in a good way."

It took her a second to remember that she was in Hawkins, not on a desert planet or even a desert state. Instead she was laying back on a leather bench seat, in the back of a green 1979 GMC Gaucho named Large Marge, smoking pot with a guy that looked exactly like Eddie Van Halen.

“I’m different?”

She was shocked. Almost offended. What? Was it not normal to get philosophical about prehistoric caveman fiction?

“That’s… that’s kinda cliche, don’t you think…?” She groused.

Eddie shrugged, his smirk turning into a lighthearted grin.

"Maybe it is cliche, but I mean it. You're not afraid to speak your mind, even if it's about some fictional dude's wiener."

Alejandra couldn’t help the giggle that came out, covering her face.

“… I guess so…” she finally admitted bashfully. “I guess I just didn’t realize people don’t talk about book characters like it’s some hot school gossip. I… I don’t really talk to a lot of other girls.”

It sounded shitty. Even she could admit that.

“I… I don’t really have friends.” She whispered, her face red.

It sounded selfish and shitty, like she hated other women for simply existing. When in reality, she wanted another girl to talk to. Above all else, Alejandra really was just like any other young woman. She craved affection, and attention, perhaps even more than was normal.

At times, she wanted to be part of the cliques she was always excluded from. Cliquey friends came with so many benefits: at any given time, you had an entourage with which to laugh and look cool with. Someone always was free to go with you to the bathroom, sometimes everyone all at once.

Cliquey groupies giggled and gushed over cute boys, and fixed each other’s curls in the mirror before class started. They traded gum, scrunchies, and various fads that circulated in and out of the school halls. Last year, friendship bracelets were the big thing that everyone got into, and girls would have hundreds of them layered on their wrists. It was a caste system of the teenaged-mind’s creation; whosoever did not fit in was not always publicly humiliated, but rather silently shunned.

Alejandra had shamefully made her own to wear on her wrist, but it was awkward getting asked who she was matching with— or, god forbid, getting confronted for copying another girl’s “colors”— so she stopped wearing them altogether.

"Hey… hey, lamb chop."

Eddie’s warm hand brushed against her bare shoulder, raising the goose flesh against her skin. She looked at his hand, refusing to make eye contact directly.

"You shouldn't say that.” Eddie said gently, “I'm sure there's plenty people in Hawkins who want to be your friend. You just... you need to find your people.”

The hurt of his words stung in her heart.

Find your people?

All she had done that first day was piss people off, and look where she ended up. Shoved into a locker for it. Screamed at. Got called a “wetback Elvira”. Got tripped, and caught her jacket on a doorknob. With the way small town rumor mills ran, she knew any attempts she made here on out to make a friend would be FUBAR— Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.

“I don’t know… I don’t… I don’t think there’s really anyone on earth, let alone here in Hawkins, who wants to be my friend.”

Eddie paused for a moment, the deafening silence making Alejandra’s heart clench.

"I'd be your friend." He said after a moment.

Alejandra tensed up. Gulping. Not wanting to look him in the eyes.

“Really?” She whispered.

"Yeah. You're smart, you're funny, and you've got a love for fantasy. Those are all… that’s badass, dude."

She turned away. Looked at the bucket seat in front of her, thence to the parking break, thence to the floor and the scattered ashes infused with butts and roaches.

“Are you serious to me right now?”

Her voice was so small, so helpless. As if she couldn’t believe it. She said this as if she couldn’t even imagine Eddie, for all his laughter at her antics and his handsy nature, even wanted to consider being her friend. The idea was laughable. There was no way he liked her like that. Maybe she was just a fun time? Something silly to do on a Monday morning instead of school.

Maybe, she thought, maybe he was just secretly some deadbeat dude who wanted dirty sex and was promising friendship in exchange. Using promises of companionship and understanding as legal tender to exchange for her “goods and services”. Playing up acting like a good person, just so he could stick his smelly cock in some panocha, as her brother would often so eloquently warn her about.

For all she knew, Eddie could be just a typical pig. Wanting a warm hole in between looking for someone better looking, more conventionally attractive, to show off on his arm.

But Alejandra wasn’t sure what was more sad: the fact that she was making a judgement based on unfounded allegations, or the fact that she was so desperate for attention, that she was actually considering giving it up just so Eddie would speak kindness to her.

Eddie's grip on her shoulder tightened. After avoiding him so long, she couldn’t anymore when he turned her around to face him. Red rimmed, watery brown eyes bored holes into hers, curtained by black brown, wild curls.

"Yeah, really.” He murmured, “I'm serious. I'd be honored to have a friend like you."

He gave a soft, genuine smile, with his laugh lines cutting deep divots in his cheeks. Alejandra let out a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding.

“Well that’s real cool because I really like you and-…” she immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, a squeak erupting from the throat when she realized she had just admitted the quiet part out loud.

The reefer had made her tongue loose. Ordinarily she would have kept the affection she felt for Eddie under wraps until the day she died. Old Alejandra would have made an ass of herself agonizing over shooting her shot. Probably would have gone to her grave regretting never telling Eddie that she was starting to feel the dreaded “like” feelings.

Eddie's smirk faded into a look of surprise as he heard the words come vomiting out.

"Alejandra..."

He said her name softly, his eyes searching her face and taking in the flushed expression.

"You... you really like me?"

She didn’t look at him, just kept her mouth covered as she looked down shamefully. Slowly, she nodded her head yes.

“You know… I like you too.” Eddie murmured.

“You do…?”

“Yeah, I do. I like you a lot.”

“… even if I’m the weird kid you just met…?”

“Especially because you’re the weird kid I just met.” He scooted closer, cupping her face in his hands.

“You think you’re the only one in this van that does weird, out there shit? We’re both weird. We’re both freaks. I don't care if you're weird. I like it. I like you."

Her hands hesitantly reached up, palms over his as she stroked his fingers. Every little sensation was like magic. From the worn feel of his callouses, to the jewelry adorning his fingers, it was all so uniquely him. So very much Eddie, that her fingertips finally moved of their own accord and ran along the grooves and ridges of his many rings, finding comfort in the shapes and feel of the metal designs.

“… really warm…”

Eddie's breath hitched as he felt her hands on his. He let out a low, soft laugh.

"What’s warm? My hands?"

“Yeah…” Alejandra nodded. “And your rings too… People… people say that rings are cold but… yours… the metal band is warm…”

She looked up at Eddie, and noticed something magical happening.

When the morning sun hit just right, his iris glowed a warm amber, like cognac. And when the cognac of his eyes illuminated his face, she could see all the beautiful little lines he possessed: the eye bags, the early signs of crow's feet in the corners of his eyes when he smiled, those goddamn dimple divots on either side of his mouth… Even the way he smiled was mischievous.

She couldn’t help herself. Brown eyes darted down to his rosy lips, chapped and a little dry, but plump. Kissable lips.

Did he taste like cigarettes? Weed? Maybe minty, like toothpaste?

Slowly, Alejandra’s hands left Eddie’s and cupped his cheeks, and she found herself pressing lips against his. Eager to find out.

At first he stiffened, totally caught off guard by the movements. It took a second or two, but at last he began to reciprocate, immediately wrapping his arms around her and pressing her further into his chest.

This didn’t feel real. Alejandra couldn’t believe she was really doing this… A moment ago the two were having the time of their lives. Nearly pissing themselves with laughter, enjoying the bantering back and forth and being real friends.

His lips were chapped. Bitten perhaps during a bout of nervous habit, but… oh, so warm…

His fingers tangled in her curly hair, a wet lathing at her bottom lip as his tongue gently stroked across. Eddie was pulling desperately at her too, as if trying to get her to hop onto his lap, and Alejandra responded by eagerly scrambling onto him. She frowned when she realized he was licking at her bottom lip sloppily, rapidly, as if he was an eager Saint Bernard looking for peanut butter.

“What are you doing…?” Alejandra asked.

Eddie blinked, pulled out of his momentary stupor by the question. He quickly tried to explain himself, a hint of guilt in his voice.

"Fuck... I didn't mean to! I just... I thought... Oh shit, I'm sorry-..."

“No like… what are you doing with your tongue?” She asked, genuinely confused.

Eddie shook his head and blinked at the same time. As if resetting.

"It's... I’m kissing you? Y’know, like, Frenching? You stick your tongue out and... and kind of…”

What the fuck was he talking about?

It took her a hot minute. A really hot minute to figure it out, and just before Eddie made like he was going to push her off him, she clung to his arms.

“Like wait no, hold on… is that… is that what they’re doing on tv…?” Alejandra asked softly.

Eddie nodded awkwardly. Unsure of what to say.

"Yeah... yeah, it is. When you kiss and... then you kinda slip the tongue. It's called... making out…"

“I mean I know what making out is called but like… I didn’t know that’s what was happening… inside.” She said, feeling a little stupid.

"Are you telling me you've never kissed someone with tongue before?"

“… I’ve never kissed anyone in my life… let alone done that tongue thing.”

“Jesus H. Christ, you’re a fucking virgin!” Eddie laughed loudly and obnoxiously, as though reveling in the revelation of the awkward secret.

Now it was her turn to huff indignantly, only staying because Eddie had put his arms around her and held her in place.

“I’m sorr… sorry!” He wheezed. “I’m sorry! No… no that’s not funny.”

“Pinche mamon!” She hissed.

He shook his head, wiping a tear from his eye as he smiled at you gently. His hands began rubbing at her bare shoulders, enjoying the sight of her in a sleeveless, linen summer dress.

"Would you like to try it again...?” He asked softly, “The tongue thing?"

She curled soft legs around his thin waist, Chuck Taylors pressing into the armrest of the leather bench seats of the van. His body responded automatically, intimates standing to attention in a single fluid contraction of throbbing hot flesh through denim…

When she felt him get hard, how could she stay mad at him?

“Yeah… teach me, how do you do the tongue thing…?” She asked.

He gently pressed his forehead to hers, faces mere inches apart.

"Well, it's pretty simple."

He paused for a moment, leaning in slightly closer as he spoke in a soft, low voice.

"Gimme the Gene Simmons, like this..."

He slowly stuck his tongue out, the tip brushing against Alejandra’s lips. She giggled, mimicking him and laughing when his long tongue flicked against hers.

“Then what?” She asked. Words were a bit garbled because her tongue was still lolled out.

"Well, lamb chop, once our tongues are out, we... we kind of… You know…”

He paused, his eyes locked on her lips before leaning in a little closer.

"Start licking each other..."

“O-oh…”

Eddie smiled at the quiet, accepting response.

"Don't worry, we'll go slow. We don’t have anywhere to be." He said, eyes never quite leaving her lips.

"Close your eyes, lamb chop. You don’t keep them open when you kiss."

She obediently closed them, lips parted slightly as she felt Eddie’s warm breath caress her face. He evidently decided he would skip the gentle pecks and go for the tongue thing right away, so she kept her mouth a little open this time.

"Good girl.” He whispered, leaning in towards her, “You keep your mouth just like that…”

It was then she realized that not only did he taste like the Camels he smoked, but he also tasted like cheap beer, chocolate, and some kind of cereal she couldn’t quite place. All a myriad and fucked up mishmash of different flavors and scents that either complemented, or contradicted one another.

And Alejandra loved every single minute of it.

“ The flesh surrenders itself, he thought. Eternity takes back its own. Our bodies stirred these waters briefly, danced with a certain intoxication before the love of life and self, dealt with a few strange ideas, then submitted to the instruments of Time. What can we say of this? I occurred. I am not... yet, I occurred. ”

- Frank Herbert

[tailsbeth-writes]

Favourite Books of 2024

Tagged by @myheartalivewrites & I can't say no to chatting about books.

If you happen to be on Goodreads or Storygraph, add me. Always like more book pals! In no particular order, here's my faves:

Fraternity by Andy Mientus: this was a dark academia queer treat. If you thought Dead Poet's Society should have been more gay & have black magic, this is the book for you.

Dear Mothman by Robin Gow: I listened to this, started it at the gym... Cue me, crying on the treadmill. This middle grade novel deals with grief and gender identity via letters sent to Mothman.

P.S. Burn This Letter Please by Craig Olsen: If you've got an interest in queer history or drag culture, you gotta read this nonfiction. Pieced together from letters, we hear about the New York queens from the 1950s and the beginnings of modern drag culture as we know it.

Let Me Out by Emmett Nahil & George Williams: This graphic novel is gorgeous, I just really jelled with the style. It's a classic satanic panic story set in 1979, with a wonderfully queer cast.

The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White: this book is not for the queasy of stomach. This historical novel has been on my TBR for a while but the book club I'm in (Bisexual Disasters Book Club) chose it for October and I'm so glad they did! It follows Silas, an autistic trans man in Victorian London who is being sent to a Sanitarium & Finishing school. There's lots of TWs provided by the author, please do take care.

The Pairing by Casey McQuiston: The king of romance does it again! Genuinely my fave McQuiston book (someone cover RWRB's ears) & I was so lucky to get a digital ARC of it. I bought a copy for my birthday I loved it that much & it ended up being chosen for my book club. We were all collectively obsessed with Theo and Kit, the whole tour gang and those pornographic descriptions of food. Can't wait to re-read next summer, hopefully on holiday!

Honourable Mention - The Nightmare Before Kissmas by Sara Raasch: I haven't finished this book yet (over 70% through) but it's been such a joy! It's got holidays, princes kissing, moments of surprising depth and a lot of laughter. If you're a RWRB fan but need something with holiday vibes, you'll love this.

In summary: a very queer reading year (as it should be.)

(Apologies if you were already tagged)

Tag You're It: @taste-thewaste @judasofsuburbia @suseagull5914 @onthewaytosomewhere @run-for-chamo-miles & open tag, I wanna see who the readers are in my feed!

[minamaybe]

There’s a saying at the University of Vienna: No matter how bad your studies are going, at least you’re not working for the Department of Parafolklore, right?

The select few who do research the strange, the unknown, the monstrous. Laughing stock or no, there’s records to modernise (“Why is the only piece of technology we own a fax machine?”), local cryptids to research, and, oh yeah, someone’s gotta babysit the demon in the attic.

genre: modern fantasy, elements of horror, some romance sprinkled in for good luck

status: plotting, making intricate mind maps

main characters

Nita: After her life took an unexpected turn for the worst, all Nita wants is a calm, quiet office job. It doesn’t get much calmer than typing up old records for the Department of Parafolklore; or at least, that’s what she thinks. Soon, Nita’s knowledge of obscure folk legends and Middle High German will be needed, because someone - no, something - is trapped in the attic. And it is essential that it doesn’t get out.

Lukas: Since no one has seen the Head of the Department of Parafolklore in… hm, has it been five years already?, Lukas is the next best thing, considering he’s been there the longest. Earnest and ambitious, he is determined to raise the Department’s social standing and show the world that their research is valuable.

Kim: Her years of studying Marketing & Sales have left Kim with a broken-off engagement and the ability to make pretty Instagram reels. As the Department’s social media manager, she tries to make dusty books and antisocial hermits look cool.

Said: An expert in art history and disappointing his parents, Said analyses artwork depicting various local legends and cryptids. He gets a tattoo of every folk creature the Department can prove truly exists (so far, he’s got a Lindwurm, Perchten, and the Mothman. That last one doesn’t necessarily fall into Austrian territory, but he chose to trust the Americans on that one).

“Oscar”: Really, he doesn’t know what all the fuss is about. They treat him as if he’s going to unleash chaos on the world as soon as he gets out of the Department, and that’s just so unfair. He can unleash plenty of chaos from right up here in the attic, thank you very much.

here it is, a proper wip intro! if you stuck around until now, thank you so much!

i’ve been working on this idea for a while now, and the basic plan is to tell austrian folklore stories through this group of outcasts, who, each in their own way, figures out what the paranormal world means to them, and their place in it. also, i want to try something new with it, and write connected short stories instead of going for a classical novel structure. this is new for me, so if anyone has experience with that kind of writing they want to share, i’d be very interested to hear your process!!

thank you for reading, and i can’t wait to share more about this wip as it develops! <3

[power-handmaiden]

Day 242: Mothman Quarterback Ghost In My Tight End: A Trans Buckaroo Tale

Even though I'm only a bit of a sports person, I always find myself looking forward to it when a tingler has football or baseball central to the plot. Maybe part of that is how much Dr. Tingle is clearly passionate about the subject and that passion carries through to the writing... but I don't find myself feeling the same way and feeling super invested in the premise when a tingler is based on, say, a TV show or movie that I'm not personally interested in. Maybe it's just the heightened emotions that people have around their team and inherent homoerotic potential of team sports that lend themselves perfectly to a short gay erotic story? Whatever it is, it makes some damn good tinglers.

(Perhaps this is too personal but. That "yes, coach" did more for me than most entire sex scenes. And one of my favorite romance novels is Out Of Position. Do I just have a football kink?????)

So, yes, this one has everything I wanted from it. It's fun, it's exciting, and it's HOT. And it even incorporates mothman lore in a way that the last mothman tingler I read didn't, which I really appreciate!

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 43

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

I'm so soft for this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Intercrural Sex, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

HUGE EAT SPLITTING PTERODACTYL SCREECH to @unknownfanartist who once did an amazing animation that inspired the crux of this chapter! I genuinely don't know if the patreon saw it, but I sure did. It still lives in my brain rent free and sometimes I just open it on my phone and stare.

Also gotta shout @thepinkpanther83 who asked for Donnie to get some loving to his poor overtaxed feet. i may have shied away from going as far as you wanted, but I hope you still like it 👉👈

ALSO I BET YOU UNCOVERED YOUR EARS WELL TOO BAD BECAUSE HERE'S ANOTHER DRUM BURSTING UNHOLY NOISE THIS TIME GOING TO @mothmans-left-nipple for giving me the INCREDIBLE TASTY DELICIOUS content of the repeated bites 😏😏😏 It was truly such a perfect addition! They always come in with the clutch finishing moves!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Last warning for the 🍋 under the cut. Minors DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: scissoring, bra removal, folds fondling and adjusting, a mountain of slit mentions, and some clit stuff for good measure

Leaning back on the couch, you were uncomfortable. It wasn’t that you hadn’t moved in a while. In fact, the vegetative state you’d been in was pretty nice. It also wasn’t the hour. Sometime in the late afternoon, there was still enough time that dinner wasn’t quite a formed thought. It absolutely wasn’t the state of your partner. It was a limited touch day and it rarely bothered you when he needed space. It marked a sort of business as usual that you welcomed.

Still, you tugged at your shirt which felt sticky against your torso. Committing to sitting up, you glanced over the room before settling on your thighs. Through soft cotton pajamas, you could feel heat pockets boiling behind your knees. Making a little disgruntled sound at peeling them apart, you thought over the sensation.

It was almost as if you were hot.

The weather outside teetered on gorgeous which made little sense to your predicament. Rocking back to facilitate liftoff, you ambled onto your feet and headed toward the kitchen window. Sunlight poured in from an angle there and you basked in it. It marked an obvious warmth which brought your hand to the glass. The cold surface relented and said that the sun was a far cry from finishing its preheat. Autumn was seeping in and you almost wanted to ask if Donnie wanted to head up to the roof before it struck you.

It was stuffy because the weather was nice.

The A/C hadn’t kicked on because of it and you were sitting in dead air.

Almost laughing to yourself at how you missed something so obvious, you thought over what to do. A fan would only tip the precarious balance, so you quickly returned to your idea of heading out. Already picturing yourself in those comfy homemade chairs, you turned to relate this to your partner to find him at rapt attention.

The only problem was, it was in the huge novel he was reading.

Something he had supposedly been trying to get his hands on for a while, the huge tome had arrived in the mail with markings from all sorts of countries. Curious at the legality of it all, it had at least passed customs so something about it had to be on the up and up. Whatever it was, it at least wasn’t precious enough that Donnie wore gloves to read it. He was still mesmerized and had been neatly buried in it since it arrived the day before.

You weren’t even sure he’d slept even though he’d joined you in bed last night.

Smiling at him, you shook your head and headed over to relay that at least you would be on the move. “Don.”

His gaze was churning text like a typewriter.

“Donnie, I’m going to the roof. Wanna read up there with me?”

His eyes hit the end and he turned the page in a flurry as if he could not get enough.

You could just leave him.

You could walk away.

You were happy for him.

That was the honest truth.

You also desperately wanted to kick his book up like a schoolyard bully and make it hit his snout.

Resisting those urges though it technically fell into the category of not true touch, you gave a tepid sigh and rounded him for something a little more dramatic. Circling the couch, you approached your side before giving a calculated wobble. You then swung up a forearm to your head and gave a pathetic, wispy groan. “It’s oh so stuffy.”

He didn’t move an inch.

“It’s almost like I can’t breathe!” With a smooth teeter back and forth, you then pretended to faint as Victorian women did in movies.

Your weight literally thrown onto the couch, it was enough that it skidded angrily away from you. You still made it, a flop into cushions and sent one pillow over the edge to its doom. With your half now at least a foot off from its original location, you watched as Donnie lowered his book incrementally. Gaze still glued to paper, his pupil dotted off something before he sent dull irritation straight ahead.

Seeing he’d make the turn, you flopped your head back against the couch to appear unconscious.

“It seems as though I am needed.” His tone was huffy.

Knowing your eyes were squirming under lids, you tried to at least tame your wrinkled smile into one more neutral.

With a snap, his book closed and you felt the couch dip slightly as he turned toward you. “You know I could have continued to read, through your display.”

Your lips puckered around a giggle and you had to bite down on it.

“Oh no.” There wasn’t a hint of interest in his voice. “It seems as though Y/N is having a bad dream. Nothing I can do.” Weight moved on a cushion that said he was returning to his book.

“You didn’t even check.” You whispered, trying to make it sound like it was the room.

“Sleep talking, fascinating.”

You cracked an eye open to find him miming as if he were flipping through the pages, but his head was turned, staring at you.

“Look at that.”

Immediately caught, a little surprised noise wiggled in your throat.

“You need only ask.” He leaned forward, overlooking you.

“I did.” You stared back openly.

His lips dropped a minute amount. “No, you threw yourself on the couch.”

“No.” You shared his tone before twisting it to sit up straight. “I called your name a few times and asked you a question.”

His head tipped, not believing.

“I did.” You said sternly, raising your brows.

His came down with twice the weight. “I see…”

“Hey.” You kicked a foot out, but kept from touching him. “I’m glad you like your book.”

He looked down at said novel.

“No need to worry. I was going to head up to the roof and wanted to see if you’d join me.”

Brows coming up incrementally, they caught on something. “How does that correlate?”

“With the fainting?” You chuckled.

He looked to you as a confirmation.

“It’s stuffy in here. Can’t you feel it?”

Another thing lost to his distraction, you watched him take the air. “So… it is…”

“Don.”

He faced you.

“It’s okay to be distracted. I should have let you be.” You urged with a tip of your head.

“A shade too far.” He spoke more to himself. “The roof?”

“Yeah, I’m tired of that sticky feeling.” You moved to get up only to remember you’d attacked the couch. Giving an amused puff, you stepped back before dropping down. Squat with your feet adequately apart, you tucked your fingers under the ridge of the sofa to pull it back into place.

“You underestimate my weight.”

“It’ll slide.” You retorted and tugged.

The sofa gave a squeaky inch.

“Only 13 more of those to go.”

Puffing your cheeks out, you took a deep breath before heaving with your entire body.

You managed exactly three more inches before your fingers slipped free from the fabric. Momentum carrying you, your back slammed into the little coffee table and you gave a yelp. Donnie appeared at your side, setting his book aside and hovering.

“I’m okay…” You waved him off, keeping your limbs to yourself. “Pride hurts more than anything.”

He sat back on his heels.

With him moved, you sighed abysmally before reaching out and easily putting the couch back into place.

“A little back actually.”

You parted him a dry look before tapping the sofa just enough that he was pleased.

“Better.”

“Good, better, best.” You said for no apparent reason and stood. Dusting yourself off, you threw a thumb at the door. “Might go wallow alone now if that’s alright. You go back to your reading.”

Still sitting with his knees perfectly tucked under him, you watched a bit of sadness flicker over his features.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” You brushed him off airily and moved to the door. “The sun’ll do me good.”

You heard the soft sound of him following and you slowed by the door. Waiting until he got close, you did a slow turn to gauge if you’d have to further fend him off.

Instead you found him resigned, with a comfortable smile playing on his lips.

“I’ll come get you later.”

Soothed, you gave a single happy nod.

Gaze softening, he leaned forward and just barely pressed his lips to your hairline.

You’d meant to let your eyes drift shut, but they just barely hadn’t made it when he completed the move and pulled back. The sensation was not enough and you watched him, up close, with the usual stirring in your belly. It was the feeling you often had of wanting nothing more than to curl up beside him. Squashing it down to your gaze alone, you reached back to palm the door knob and offered a sign off. “Don’t get too lost in reading, my daring literary adventurer.”   

He liked the tagline and was leaning forward before either of you registered.

Muscle memory and lips pressed, you squeezed the door handle in time to keep from deepening the move. He had other plans as he chased you to a certain degree. Sensing his body would only allow him so far, you obliged with a massage that parted your lips. He drank you in, just shy of licking into you when you felt a thin edge, not dissimilar to his plastron, press to your chest. Knowing it to be different, you broke free to find his book acting as a barrier.

Giving a puff of laughter at it, you turned mirth up to him. “I’m sensing you’re at odds with yourself.”

His eyes were cast down where he was reviewing the book with a certain amount of frustration. “So it seems.”

“I’m trying to remove myself from the equation.” You reminded him with a lazy smile.

The downturn of his lips said he didn’t like that.

You finally released the knob to face him and leaned back against the door. “Options.”

“Stay trapped in dichotomy or respite in the form of a temporary split.”

“Seems like one makes more sense.” You tilted your head and waited.

He gave the faintest growl as he looked away.

Watching him and imagining that sound coming above you in an unholy manner, you shook your head to rid the thoughts.

You were just as bad.

Settling found him watching you with open curiosity. “You have an alternative.”

“My brain needs to be washed out with soap.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s spewing pure filth.”

“Do tell?” He gave a single, second long rolling purr before he leaned a little closer with the book once again appearing between you.

“Hot and heavy.” You shrugged, reaching out a finger to push against the cover.

“It occurs to me we’ve never expressly explored your fantasies.”

Your shoulders jolted with a bob of laughter. “I’ve asked for stuff.”

“Heat of the moment.” You watched his fingers retract behind the cover as the book inched closer to you. “Pales in comparison.”

“Don’t put me on the spot.” You giggled.

“Then you weren’t just imagining some scenario?” Only mere inches were separating your chest from a wealth of knowledge.

“Nothing that hasn’t been done before.” You smiled along with your honesty.

Donnie made a noise of little interest as he studied you.

“The usual.” A hard cover lightly pressed to your sternum. “You good and deep, possessively over me and doing your best to melt our bodies into one.”

“Ah.” His jaw hung open and the heat of his breath cascading over your face making your lashes flutter.

Rapidly become wedged on a shelf, you gave your own exhale to carve out a bit of freedom. “I should get going; hot and all.”

“Yes…” His lips only closed enough to enunciate. “Oppressive air.”

“Mhm.” You were staring so intently at his mouth that it’s arrival seemed willed.

Kissing with only the novel keeping you apart, your head pressed back into the door with hungry force. Head tilting to better meet him, the rotation brushed your cheek to his. The near instant effect came with an involuntary twitch that you felt through your lips. With nowhere to go you gave a note of exasperation that caused him to reluctantly pull back.

“Don.”

“Yes?” Breathy puffs ran over you as he waited.

“It’s too much. Let’s stop.”

He gave a traitorous grunt.

“Don, look” Pushing with your chest, he immediately retreated for threat you’d overtake the barrier. “See?”

Another irritated sound rumbled in his throat and his face held all the displeasure of a scolded toddler who’s toy had been taken.

You watched as he tried to search for some solution.

In a childlike torment, you imagined his coveted artifact had been placed just out of reach.

Unhappy, but given no option, he chose to sulk.

The metaphorical time out clock set, he’d have his privileges restored eventually.

He’d just have to wait.

“Or…”

He perked up at the sound of your voice.

It had been awhile since your mouth betrayed you. “Uh… I don’t know…”

His gaze narrowed. “No, you had something.”

“There’d be some inevitable contact. It wouldn’t work.”

“Try.”

You chewed your lip and found his immobility on the matter. Sighing, you translated hopelessness through your gaze as you spoke, “Scissoring.”

Instead of shooting it down as you imagined, he even moved to bypass your second guess of thinking it over. “Explain."

“Scissoring?” You knew that was wrong, but you had to make sure.

His lids lowered and his brows rose.

“I don’t know!” You pursed your lips.

“Y/N.”

“I just-!” You bit down on the complaint and groaned with a little toss of your head. Coming down you took a breath to calm yourself before looking him right in the eyes. “I feel like we could finagle it so we’d just be rubbing our…” You drifted off, suddenly unsure of comparing your sexes.

With a slight narrowing, you thought he might offer a word for it, but he instead shot his gaze off to the side in a studious manner.

You stumbled after him. “We’d need leverage, but I have an idea for that. I can’t guarantee we wouldn’t bump legs or something else in the heat of it though.”

His pupils darted as he made some kind of calculation.

“That’s also assuming you were up for sex too…” You mumbled in case that was his hang up.

He stopped with a prominent blink and whipped around to look at you. “Show me.”

Your back strengthened. “Not…?”

“Explain? No.” There was something lit in his gaze. “You cited an understanding of my situation.”

“Trust.” You parroted back the way he’d said the word a few times.

He gave a proud smile. “And intrigue.”

“Intrigue?” You wondered as you slid along the wall to get past him even though you still had a good amount of space.

“Not your fantasy per say, but allowing your full direction opens the chance for you to exert.” He had no judgment for your display and instead looked very much like a bright eyed student with his book pressed securely to his chest with one folded arm. “Giving myself over to you has an exhilarating quality as well.”

Turning in time as the thought rotated, you led the charge to the bedroom and pondered on how you liked to be his. The times you’d domineered had gone over well, but you hadn’t thought of it as a mainstay. Wondering why that couldn’t be a norm of its own, you approached the bed. “How clean is the floor?���

Donnie’s voice appeared beside you along with a weighty aura of fascination. “I loose a cleaning bot weekdays.”

Resisting the urge to glance at him, you set your jaw. “We need the bed out of the way.”

“Where?” He was quickly becoming engrossed by the unknown.

“Anywhere that frees up B.E.D.F.A.S.T.” You took a step towards your night stand and began to move it yourself.   

As soon as your object was over by the closet, you turned your attention back to find the bed had silently transported itself over to the partition. In its place Donnie stood and examined the ground with the air of a dog swishing its tail.

“Need another pass?” You wondered, stepping close with your eyes glued to his ass in case his actual tail did wag.

You hadn’t seen that since his heat.

He turned to catch your eye line.

You met his gaze without remorse.

His smile brightened. “What next?”

“You’ll need to set that aside for the time being.” You flicked your gaze to his book.

It was almost startling how easily he moved to set the tome aside.

Especially after he hadn’t been able to put it down before. 

His priorities were showing clearly.

“Now strip.” You ordered and loosened your posture to watch.

He failed to curtail his excitement as he reached behind his head. Catching the back of his black t-shirt, he pulled the tight piece of fabric off with little resistance and an elongation of his torso. Tossing the top aside, he then skimmed down his body and along his pant’s hem. As if looking for just the right spot, he hooked his thumbs first at his sides. He then maintained heady eye contact as he leaned forward to slide the cotton off his hips. With absurd precision, he then stepped out of one leg before folding the other back to pull himself free with a flick of his wrist. “More?”

“Need the wraps?”

He seemed to think it over before giving a single nod that said he could be persuaded otherwise.

“Wraps and mask stay on.” You quoted from long ago.  

He had a fond look to him as he waited with his weight on one hip.

“Ground.” You moved forward.

He lowered in time until he was on his knees before you.

“Such a good boy.” You gave a sultry coo.

His lips parted with a set of rapid blinks that reminded you of his yet explored praise kink.

Wanting to straddle the line between that and your current course, you offered a middleman, “We’ll see just how good you can be at following orders.”

He gave a nod and you could just sense the way his heart was thudding out of his chest.

“To the wall.” You stepped forward with threatening encouragement.

Backing away, you directed him with steps that you imagined mimicked a sheep dog nipping at a farm animal's heels.

It ended with his carapace pressed against the space just below B.E.D.F.A.S.T.

You gave him a half grin before looking at the device. “Darling Protocol, activate B.E.D.F.A.S.T.”

Its four arms sprouted and sat at the ready.

“You better not interfere.”

“I won’t.” You watched as he visibly broke his heated character to add, “You can override that.”

You dropped your own façade. “Thanks.”

He nodded and you watched his eyes laden with that anticipatory desire.

“B.E.D.F.A.S.T. temporarily disengage from the neural link.” You flicked your gaze to the upper corner of your vision and added, “Also the commands are too wordy. You’ll respond on my ‘mark,’ literally. Lift your top right arm if you understand.

The machine lay dormant.

You gave Donnie a cheeky look. “Someone’s good at Simon Says.”

You earned a grin that showed a bit of his teeth.

“Mark, top right arm up.”

B.E.D.F.A.S.T. followed the command.

“Perfect.” You sauntered forward but kept your eyes trained on the panel. “I wonder what brillant creature must have programmed you.”

The faintest chirp came from your partner.

“What was that?” You were slow in kneeling down. In a curve, you tucked your knees off to one side and leaned over him. “Trying to take credit?”

“No.” The response was faint.

“Look at you.” You tilted your head. “So pretty for me. So obedient.”

His head tipped back as if to give his mouth room for a response, but he crushed it to give a shaky inhale.

“Nothing?” You tipped the other way. “Shame. I was going to reward you.”

His eyes widened at his mistake.

“I wanted to hear those adorable noises.” You reached out slowly to telegraph a touch.

He flicked a wary eye from your hand to your face until he reassured himself.

Whether he knew it or not, he’d already signaled what on him was approved. Curling your digits, you positioned it so your thumb was extended. You then just barely stamped it into the dead center of his lips. “The ones you hold back.”

A careful chirp emerged from him.

“Mhm. Think you can let those out for me?” In a gentle back and forth you traced the plump of his lip.

He pressed a kiss to your thumb before speaking in a way that said this was outside the act. “Only some.”

You wondered which were off limits, but gave a nod as you retracted your hand. “Curious about your reward?”

“Very much so.”

Lifting up, you swiped a hand over the top of your head. “You can pick what comes off first.”

“Top.” He spoke without a moment of hesitation.

“Eager.” You quirked a brow and toyed with your collar.

“Longing.”

“What about build up?” You gave a little tug.

“I’ve waited a lifetime for you.”

Caught off guard, you covered up your flush by whipping your shirt off without the craft you’d hoped to achieve. Unable to meet his eye, you then tossed the fabric into his face.

He was still before you heard him inhale deeply.

“Hey!” You pinched a bit of fabric and lifted it off. “No one said you could do that.”

“Was that prohibited?” His question held little wonder.

“Maybe I’ll leave you here and go make a snack.” You huffed, using your reclaimed shirt as a makeshift cover for your body.

For a split second he grappled with some type of response before going with, “That would be up to you.”

You hummed before relenting. “From now on, no loopholes. You can only do as you’re told.”

He leaned his head against the wall. “Understood.”

“Scoot your ass forward.” You threw your shirt by the wayside and beckoned him.

His hips slid forward while his upper carapace stayed to the wall.

Watching him carve out a scalene triangle of space, you smiled. “Spread for me. Let me see that gorgeous tail of yours.”

From where his legs were tossed comfortably to the side, he gathered them up and then split. Thighs rippling around the move, he had to lift up and adjust so his tail was on prominent display.

You knelt down and signaled a break in character by opening up your features. “Plastron?”

“I could stand some slight contact. It’s dulled.”

You nodded and dropped to your knees to crawl up between his legs.

His throat gave a little titter.

“That’s not the only thing you’ve been holding back.” You flicked your gaze to the column of his neck before returning to his face.

He raised a curious brow.

“Something-” You reached out with a single flighty digit with a swirling pattern until just the tip touched the center line between his pectoral scutes. “-further-“ You dragged your finger down, keenly aware of its weight. “-down.” Hitting the bottom you flicked your finger into a curl as if wiping something up.

He did the slightest squirm that you translated as need.

As of yet dry there, you saw what had to be a phantom wiggle of his tail. “Don’t I make you happy?”

He gave a single irritated exhale.

Giving into a laugh, you brought it up to him. “I’m going somewhere.”

“Immersion breaking.” His features held open disdain. “Nonsense.”

“Let me finish!” You giggle and leaned up. Needing stability, you then pressed a palm flat to the wall beside his head before craning into him for a kiss.

He returned it in a way where you could feel his tension unwind.

“I’m gonna have to rephrase, huh?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Absolutely.”

You had to push off to get back into position and do a roll to reclaim your character. With a dip of your lids, you found it and gave him a heated look. “I know for a fact that this’ll wag.” Without looking you tossed your index finger over to point at his tail. “I was just notified that it’s not my fault, so why are you holding back?”

As if caught, you watched him give the faintest jolt.

“I repeat my earlier question.”

You watched his lips purse for a moment and you just knew he had a complaint about loopholes.

“Touch yourself, no insertion, and don’t you dare drop.”

The mix of commands set his irritation aside and he reached wide over his body to his slit. With some more minor adjustments so his core was better exposed, he slid one of his fingers across the length of it. Coming along the seam to trace, he began to repeat the journey languidly.

Satisfied, you gave him an approving flick of your gaze before retreating.

He watched curiously as he continued to stroke himself.

In a few dancing steps, you turned your back to him and did an arm curling swipe over the back of your head. Rustling your hair, you let your fingers brush your neck as you arched into the action. Rolling your head earned you a crack and your arms came down a metered length of your sides. Sliding your hands around your ribs, you traced your bra’s band before finding the clasp. Undoing it in one blessed move, you shimmied the item off and held it out with an extended digit. Listening close you heard a little breath and swallow from your partner before you tossed the thing aside.

Moving on in the strip tease, you widened your stance and rotated your hips. It earned you the faintest squeak as you traced your own waistband. Having been lazing in something light but with enough coverage to go out in, you bunched some of the fabric before leaning forward. Presenting your ass, you then slowly rocked your hips back and forth as the fabric trended down. Breaking free from your thighs, you then dropped into a sudden squat. Having hooked your thumbs, you managed to free the fabric from your calves. Caught now in what was sure to be awkward, you conjured up a distraction by shaking your ass while you managed a mostly dignified freeing of your bottoms. Kicking them away with a swipe of your foot, you turned your head enough to give him a profile. “How are you doing back there?”

“Fi-” A chirp caught in his throat and he had to swallow it to try again. “Fine.”

“Happy?”

“Very.”

“Oh?”

“Happier if you were over here.”

“Enough to wag?” You moved one of your arms to block your chest as you rotated only enough to see him.

He gave a flat sort of noise.

“Not very.” You pouted and began to step away.

You heard the faintest noise of alarm before his voice rushed to him. “It’s not so simple.”

It was an honest answer. “How’s that?” You turned to him, forgetting the play.

His gaze didn’t falter from your face. “It would have to overtake me. A difficult set of circumstances.”

You turned the sentence over as you headed towards him. “Is it a weakness thing?”

“An open reflection of your emotions?” It wasn’t even quite sarcasm that had his tone dry.

You nodded in time as you knelt before him. “Guess I was just thinking that the sounds have come easier for you so your tail might be the same?”

His lips thinned out.

“You did say ‘only some’ though.” Sitting on your legs reminded you that you were clad only in your underwear.  “You care so much, it’s hard to believe…”

“I’m still holding back.” He agreed and his gaze dropped to the floor.

Tracking it you found his fingers had slowed, but he was still attempting to follow your command. With little comedy you reached out, just shy of touching him to signal a stop.

His finger came away only enough for the back of his hand to rest on his thigh.

“Is it…?”

“Not you. Never you.” He gave a weary sigh.

Moving your lower jaw left and right you came up with enough attention that it pulled his. “Let’s just drop that part. Do you want to keep going?”

In the short time you’d left him to think, he’d gotten hung up on something else. Brows down in rapt attention with wood grain. You felt the need to wait.

It was long enough that you had to reposition your legs as they had fallen asleep.

“If-” He caught the syllable as if he hadn’t meant to release it. He then did some mental readjustments before looking at you. “I believe if given the right mindset it could be elicited.”

You straightened.

“Not a challenge.”

“Organic.”

He blinked with surprise and then again with appreciation. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Mounting excitement got you lifting up.

He gave a little smile. “Don’t-“

“Get too excited. Hush.” With another, much louder, hand slamming to the wall you knocked his head back similarly as you kissed him.

He puffed a laugh that broke your lip lock so you silenced it with your tongue. Hovering over him, he had no recourse and melted beneath you as you licked into him. His tongue rallied and you forced it to retreat until a heady sound erupted in his throat. Pulling back found him momentarily drunk before he regained himself in a flutter of his lids.

“Where were we?” You removed yourself from him and he made a several inch effort to chase you before you were too far. You gave a few feet of space before mimicking his pose. Cotton covering your center, you watched his focus wane as he looked over you.

“I have been waiting for the next command.”

“How’d you do?” You demonstrated how he’d stroked himself against your own underwear.

With his two fingers he split himself open.

The shameless display had your stomach doing flips.

Not soaked, but beads of desire had just started threading which marked him at a titillated stage.

“Good start.” You gave a weighty breath.

He seemed to like it until you cut him off.

“But-”

There was an indignity as he took an inhale.

“Could be better.” You traced your sex through dry cotton. “A wager.”

He quirked a brow.

“Whoever drools first gets to finger the other.”

“You have an advantage.”

“Worried?” You pressed a little harder creating an outline.

His pupil waged war trying to get to his periphery. “Is my speech limited?”

“You gonna chat me up?”

“Allow me to.”

“Try.”

“Ready?”

“Mirror me.”

“Done.” Starting just below your clit you swiped down the fabric and he similarly traced his slit. Working friction through fabric, you teased yourself as he did the same. “Figured you’d start.”

“Anticipation.” His lips twitched against a smile.

“Whatever shall I do?” You faked a groan and pressed your entrance.

Following suit, he kept just shy of breaching himself.

Unlike yours, his thick digit’s press gave you a hint of the sensitive pink skin within. Wanting to see him go deeper you pushed where cotton refused to relent.

For him it meant only a few centimeters.

Stroking with the same pressure, you narrowed in the zipper like parting of his slit.

“It’s hot.”

Goosebumps rippled your arms and you only scarcely heard him as the mirroring struck you. Touching yourself was like puppeteering him. It meant that the aching pressure you were feeling was similarly stewing in his own core. Each touch or lack thereof was fully under your control and you relished it. Entranced, you nimbly sent your pinky aside to toy with your hem.

For him it translated in his second finger pressing plush jade skin. “Hotter than the room.”

It took a few flicks for you to catch fabric before you yanked it just shy of revealing you.

With a massage, he pressed one side of his slit to the other and you could almost see his slick. “My skin, inside. Boiling.”

Shoving the gusset aside, your hips rocked against greedy fingers.

His hips splayed further as he breached himself. “There’s a differential perspective.”

You pressed your entrance with your middle finger.

As he did the same, his second digit mistakenly dragged to open him up a bit more. “Your skin would be downright chilled if you got your tongue on me.”

You shuddered and tested the tight ring of flesh.

He followed in perfect time. “Tongue probing. Waiting for that give.”

You gave a shallow pump as moisture meant each press went a millimeter further.

“And when it does.”

Your finger slipped straight to the first joint.

He gave a gruff chirp. “Molten core. All desire.”

You pulled out only to shove it back in.

“Licking in, catching as much of your desire as possible.”

Reaching the knuckle, you probed your depth, searching for his glans.

When you found it, his exhale came out as a stutter. “Each sound pulled, yours. That grip on shifting to the ass. Squeezing and giving stability to taste the very essence.”

Pulling out, you spread your slick to your other digits before adding a second on the next plunge.

For his finger’s girth, it spread him out and his eyes closed with force. “The unraveling comes with preclusion. Tight and burning, as it might consume you.”

Fucking yourself in earnest, there were two squelching echoes.    

“It’s a heat you can’t help but chase.”

A little cry came off your lips as you bucked.

He did his own with a flesh of teeth as he presumably jammed his cock. “It’s so close, not that you can taste it. You are. It’s leaking down your face. Smeared existence trying to eat you all the same.”

You watched the first drip of his stringy slick slide down his slit and you were in motion. 

Scrambling over to him, he couldn’t get his own fingers out before you joined them with your two. “Mark, bottom right form a safety bar!”

B.E.D.F.A.S.T. animated and its lower arm folded to double up. It then extended out and you latched onto it with your free hand. It gave you leverage to press your conjoined hands deep into him.

He cried out.

“Can you come like this?” With a pull you were over him, puffing hot air across his cheek.

His head shifted, but it was more of a writhe as you pulled his fingers out with yours before jamming them right back in.

“No dropping, just like this.”

His head gave a violent shake and his parted teeth revealed a gasp.

He didn’t know. “You can though. You’re so good for me. You do so much for me. Unravel for me. Please, Donnie. Please, can you do that for me? Cum so good?”

A squeak started up and wrangled out in a higher pitch than you ever heard from him.

“Go on.” The in and out sounded like a sinful stir of a decadent pot. “I want to watch you fall apart. Let go, let go.”

“I-it’s-” He choked on a near sob that dotted the corners of his eyes.

“It’s so thick?” You were almost kissing his tympanum. “Like you, my dearest? How you fill me up and spread me? How you’ve ruined me for anyone else? How I can only ever imagine getting off to you?”

You could hear the crack in his jaw as it shoved open around a sharp and loud squeak.

“This is you.” Having added all four of your primary fingers, you shoved them with his two as far as you could, feeling his body try to stretch to accommodate. “Fucking me. Making me yours. I’m yours. You’re-”

“Mine!” He screamed and you felt his whole insides shift. Instead of a rolling milking that you were accustomed too, his muscle contracted into a single tightness and what pulsed was a primary source within. His body shook around you and his head slammed back into the wall showcasing all his teeth in a similar clench. The flood reached its barrier and his cum burned your digits as it rushed the door. Resisting it as he was plugged up, you let him drown himself as strangle chirps and peeps emanated from him and he squirmed from the stuffed sensation.

“To the brim.” You whispered to him as his muscles began to loosen.

With a slight twitch that had him nearly convulsing, you broke the stiffness in your hand to retract.

His cum leaked immediately and his head rolled from its point against the wall.

“Incredible.” You moved to kiss lips that could not reciprocate. “I’m so proud of you.”

He tried to make a noise, but none came.

“Really, Don. I’m so insanely proud of you.” You leaned off the tease to enforce your honesty.

It cracked one of his lids.

“Letting go for me. Being so perfect. I can’t stand it. It means so much; you mean so much.” You smiled at him and it surfaced his other eye. “To me.”

His lips moved with a silent plea.

“What was that?” You turned your head to offer him your ear. “Deliciously ruined, you gotta find your voice. Go ahead.”

“On me.” He managed the smallest whisper.

“Hm?” You looked him over to make sure you weren’t touching him. You still had the bar and couldn’t feel any point of contact. “Need me to clean you up?”

“Need you on me.” He gasped and cleared his throat.

“Oh. Oh.” Letting go of B.E.D.F.A.S.T., you backed up. “Look at you.”

“Please.” With a squeeze of his features and a lick of his lips, an outpour began. “Need you. Need to feel you. Need you. Need you against me. On me. Need-”

“But still not direct touch?” 

He nodded miserably , his eyes screwed shut with more pleas dripping off his lips. 

You let him go on as you tugged your underwear off. Standing long enough to get out of them, you threw them along the floor before dropping right back between his slack legs. Semen pooled on the floor and you traced it to him where his body coiled at the touch. “You got good and soaked for me.”

“Please!”

You reassuringly hushed him and did as much leg math as you could in only a few seconds. “Mark!”

B.E.D.F.A.S.T. whirled to life.

“This knee up.” You nodded to Donnie’s right.

With a clicking groan he hiked the leg up.

“The other down, ease your prosthetic.”

He gave a faint nod and let that one extend.

“Mark, my right ankle, into the air. Don’t touch Donnie.” 

One of B.E.D.F.A.S.T.’s arms extended and seemed to scan over your bodies. It then formed its cuff attachment which locked around your ankle as soon as it located it. Secured, your leg lifted and you were pulled all the closer to your partner who gave a needy squeak.

“Soon, so soon. I’m right here.” Gnawing your lower lip, you then began the careful process of threading your leg through the tent he’d created with his lifted knee. Thankful for his size, you were just able to get it through before your sexes pulled up close to one another. “Mark, I need a pole over here. Leverage!”

Reaching out a hand to Donnie’s right side, B.E.D.F.A.S.T. did some reconfiguration before it dropped a sturdy line that seemed to suction to the floor. You grabbed hold and with the slightest tug to test its strength, your ass slid on the loose cum and your slit pressed to his.

“Ah!” Donnie called out a vowel, taxed with oversensitivity.

“You okay, my dear?”

He could only give a rapid nod which bumped your sexes together.

You gave similar mewls as you switched your grip on the pole. In any other situation, you would have used his knee for leverage, but right now you were overly proud of yourself for managing this position with his aversion. With a pull, you ground against him and found nothing but a smooth glide. “So wet!”

He rolled his hips against yours.

You chased him roughly and his tail slid, wet, between your ass cheeks. 

A slap echoed, but you couldn’t really stop. 

Looking up, you found he’d thrown his arms back and the sound had been his hands hitting the floor for stability.

“So good.” You murmured and squirmed so his slit’s lips spread yours. “So soaked with seed. With slick. You’re amazing.”

“Y/N!” He croaked.

“Good, good, faster. Come on.” You pulled so hard you could feel the silicone coating B.E.D.F.A.S.T. squish between your fingers.

Donnie moaned loud and bucked up against you.

Friction cementing you both together, each rub slid lips with partings, but not enough traction. “Mark! Tighter! Higher!”

B.E.D.F.A.S.T. yanked your leg and your pelvises crushed flush.

“Fuck!”

“More!”

Nearly feeling bones, you cried out as a shift encompassed your clit. Donnie chased the sound and you dug your nails into B.E.D.F.A.S.T. at the thought that he could still be that coherent amongst all this.

Orgasm winding, a side to side spread you both and you pressed there for its intriguing stickiness.

What felt good for you, was dialed up entirely for Donnie because he snarled and snapped at you.

You shuddered where you were still pressed, gawking at him through a veneer.

“I c-can’t-!” Teeth barred and drool leaked through the clench. 

“C-can’t what-?” You continued your ministration and a feral growl ripped through your ears.

“I-!!!” The sound burned before something else did.

Like a knife plunged, his cock dropped straight into you. Screaming at the sudden split, your hand slipped and it took the last of your senses to keep it from smacking Donnie’s leg.

Unable to stop as he warned, he pulled out halfway only to skewer you again.

The pain pleasure index spun uselessly as a buck had you skidding away from him on the many floor dripping. Latching onto the bar, you shoved back against it, earning your own scream as he bottomed out for a third time. Folds bitten in the transaction, you are forced to grind him deeper to free them. His spread pressed to what had to be your cervix and you nearly sobbed against the pressure. Chasing it in his own way, he rubbed which caused your jaw to hang open on a creaky hinge.

Eyes rolling back, you came before you realized it had built that far. Not milking but wringing him out, you could tell your squeezes were lethal. The sounds emitted from him showed his own mixture of excitement before one of your last clamps sent him over a second time. Having basically ignoring his refractory period, what spurted out paled in comparison to his usual load. Its forced depth made up for any lacking and molten seed burned your lower belly so thoroughly that your grip gave out.

The fall happened in slow motion as he and then B.E.D.F.A.S.T. wafted by your vision. The ceiling came next as an omnipresent white and your back slapped the ground. The sound gave you enough coherence to steel your neck and prevent a knock that would have rattled your brain. Shook out regardless, you laid in your collapse as Donnie chirped a worried note.

“I’m…” You slurred, tongue heavy like his cock. “… okay…!”

He gave a grunt and you felt something land just below your knee.

“I’m good.” You forced a little clearer.

Another puff of air and the weight turned into pinching fingers.

“Don?” Not wanting to raise your head, you stewed.

“Need.” His voice was warped as he pawed at you.

He was touching you. 

That couldn’t be right. 

“M-more?” Your gaze landed on your chest as you tried to catch sweaty palms for enough traction on the floor. “You’re good, but that may be… too good.” Exchanging hands for elbows, you got something under you enough to lift and glimpse him.

Drool strained the corner of his jaw and his other hand groped the air in what seemed like the B.E.D.F.A.S.T. arm supporting your leg.

“What are you…?”

“Up.” The hand on your leg reached out.

Brain sizzling from your orgasm, you slipped your fingers into his.

With a yank, he had you upright and it was then you realized he was still hard to a degree.

“How?” Your voice was gravel.

Releasing you as prolonged touch stung, he shook his head and finally got a good grip on B.E.D.F.A.S.T.

You watched as he tugged the arm, uselessly.

“I have control.” You reminded him as every single movement pressed your conjoined centers back together.

“Let it-” His voice shattered.

“My leg’ll fall on you.”

He shook his head, unable to clear either his throat or head.

“Let’s take a second.”

“Kiss me.” He tried anew, pleading with his gaze.  

“Only if you take that second.”

He agreed with a curt nod.

Grabbing the B.E.D.F.A.S.T. pole, you yanked yourself up to meet his lips. Weak, you succumbed to him as he kissed you with an odd desperation. Unable to place it, the massage bumped his cock inside you and the sensitivity bordered on too much. Breaking the lip lock to translate that, he turned his head.

“Cheek.”

“Kiss?” You asked, still stuffed with cum and cotton.

He gave a nod before presenting his face again.

Laughing, you kissed on command and felt that touch averse tension. “Donnie…” You warned, lips still against him.

“Need it, please.”

“Still at odds with yourself? I thought we’d made progress…” You wondered and planted another on him.

Turning his head in increments, he led you down his jaw where you marked him with kisses. Each one was an obvious raw rub against his nerves, but he seemed keen on you continuing.

He’d been good enough to earn that so you relented and followed along until you neared his neck.

“Need control.”

“Of B.E.D.F.A.S.T.?” You felt him tug at the arm attached to your leg again.

“Please.” His cock bobbed within you.

He’d calmed down a little in all, but one glaring way. “B.E.D.F.A.S.T., restore neural link.”

No sound triggered, but the machine immediately began to move. It started at your ankle where, with crawling construction, it moved the cuff in a new build a few inches higher each time. It created a crawling sensation that made you shiver until it reached the thick of your thigh. An extension then appeared as support behind your back and the pole in your hand slipped through your fingers. Without leverage, you fell Donnie until B.E.D.F.A.S.T. revved to save the day. 

Unfolding into an arm, the attachment that was once a pole shot forward to create a new cuff around your other thigh. Saving you from contact, your hips were split apart by the new configuration. The bit supporting your spine moved downward until it and the cuffs became a mimic for what felt like Donnie’s hands. They gripped the swell of your ass and lifted you incrementally off his cock while coaxing your legs forward. It sent your toes  grazing against the ground and the whole of you doing a floating straddle around him. 

“What…?”

“Lower.” He wrangled the sound. “Go.”

“Donnie…” You branded his name against his pulse with reluctant kisses.

Each one sear him like a red hot poker.

“We should stop…” You urged, nearing the joint connecting his neck to his shoulder.

With B.E.D.F.A.S.T. involved, he used his newfound control to buck up into you as a translation of his desire.  

You gave a weakened cry as it stirred you towards pleasure. 

He was being oddly frustrating, but only towards himself. 

Frowning that into the start of his clavicle, you kissed along it with presses that you hoped showed your irritation.

Instead, his wraps appeared a looming dark wall  in your periphery as his head lolled the other way until it was flat with his shoulder.

Curious at the move, you lifted up as you realized you were also no longer being led. Having been given a moment, you examined the whole of him to find he was presenting his shoulder to you in a full display.  Confused, you looked at him, but his face was tucked away as if ready for something. Not sure what that was, you studied his skin for any sort of clue. The only thing you could come up with was this was the shoulder you had once tried repeatedly to mark. The opposite one to your mating mark, it almost seemed like he wanted you to try again.

Knowing that biting was a step further than touch had you waffling. The latter was clearly off the table and you parted your lips to express that. A sound emerged there that was not your own. Gaze flying to your partner, you found Donnie was belting a strangled noise of desperation. Staring him down, you waited until it subsided and he brought his head up a little. Unable to look you in the eye, his eyes narrowed with pain until it was too much and he screwed them shut. Watching the build up, you saw his chest expand with a deep breath before he gave that honed chirp you hadn’t heard since his heat.

I was unmistakable. 

It shot straight through your brainstem. 

The rare jewel of sounds, your teeth sank into his skin before you realized what was happening. He gave it again and you bit down harder. As if calling out to some primal part of you, he made it again and again as you tore into his flesh. Nearly maddened, blood tinged your tongue with a near repulsive heat as your jaw nearly locked down with the force. He was still giving that sound and you felt distant from your body as your teeth clanged against chorded sinew. With a grind you ripped into it and he broke his mantra in favor of a yowl.

Body unknowingly tense, your fingers hooked the upper lip of his plastron and yanked him to you. It plunged his cock deeper as you bit over and over until your jaw locked. A growl emerged from somewhere untapped and your digits dipped until your nails cut little half moons into the point where his skin melded against his shell. If he was still chirping, you could no longer tell. All you could hear was the rush of your blood which felt very much like the one gushing under your lips. Hot fury as opposed to cold machinery, you felt a tridactyl hand catch your hips and force you straight down his cock through B.E.D.F.A.S.T.’s hold. Encompassing his knot, it ripped your mouth off of him at almost the exact moment he came. 

You gave a meek cry in comparison to the thick seed painting your insides.

B.E.D.F.A.S.T. released and everything moved. Your body slotted against Donnie’s in a race for the ground. Fall cushioned, his lips smothered yours and his tongue lapped at blood soak. Whimpering against the barrage, he swept up the evidence before he moved for a slower reprieve. Legs bobbing, you encircled him to show your appreciation and he gave one last honed chirp right down your throat. As something that already pierced your very being, this one branded your innard and locked your legs in a way that slid your heels slipped past his back. A motion found your skin there where his tail whacked against your foot in a rhythmic beat that gave you the strength to kiss him back with new fervor.

Lost to the makeout, you broke only for an orgasm to unexpectedly tear through you. The second of the night, you cried beneath him, tears streaking your face which he kissed away. Going slack felt like falling straight off the Earth and into the ether. Encased in pleasant nothingness, you faintly registered him pulling out because piping hot seed ran down your ass. It meant you were still on your back until you were picked up. Skin rolled around you like a jade sea and then your knees hit what had to be a towel. The fibers rough against what had to be your dried out body, the tap rushed water with a speed that said it was the tub.

You shook your head and you heard a withered laugh. “Quick wash up.”

You groaned and leaned forward where you figured porcelain was. You found the cold surface of the tub and absorbed its power until you had garnered enough to open your eyes. Donnie looked as wrecked as you as he tested the water. 

Finding it agreeable, he turned an expectant gaze to you.

“I got it…” You grumbled, catching the lip of the tub on the second try.

He hovered close as you hoisted yourself in. Thinking if you sat, you’d never get back up, you instead kneeled and water lapped at your knees. You frothed a passed loofah with soap and scrubbed over your body with far too many suds. Donnie used a cup to help rinse you off before you finally pushed to fully stand on your feet. Wobbly, a towel came around you and you welcomed it.

Unable to hold you, Donnie directed you to the toilet seat. Winding up the fabric to sit there, you faintly caught his touch aversion was still in effect. That meant every moment from when he’d topped you until setting you down in here must have been torturous for him. Feeling bad for the latter half as the first was his choice, you let relief of rest settle in. The linen, though unchanged, felt plush now and you watched him plug the drain. The water filled the tub and he dropped himself into it with minor wincing. It was with his arms flexing as he adjusted his too big body for the too small tub that you caught sight of his shoulder. 

Your work tented your spine.

What could only be described as sloppy, you seemed to have never bit the same spot twice. Instead, there were different layers and angles of crescents, all of which sat angry and red against his green skin. The many blood moons forewarned the worst before they dipped out of sight as he submerged his upper body in a move that threw his legs straight out of the tub. Red streaks oozed from the bites and you were forced to turn away with a meter of shame.

When Donnie didn’t surface and instead chose to soak, you eventually managed to get up and out of the bathroom. Hydrating and grabbing a snack, you returned, rejuvenated, to find him dozing. He’d since angled his body sideways for some modicum of comfort, but he looked a bit silly as only bulky legs and his head breached the surface of the bath. He’d kicked off his prosthetic at some point which meant his gams equated to one foot and a stump. 

Towel tucked under your armpits, you stared the appendage down before something occurred to you. It meant having to leave, but intrigue got you out and scrounging until you found what you were looking for in the back of your nightstand. Returning found Donnie the exact same way and you knelt down into the towel meant to catch his drippings. Now with a front row seat to his foot, you gave him one last check before setting your found objects down. Reaching out with excessive care, you hoped not to scare him as you grazed the underside of his closest toe.

Your metered brush worked as his lids sprung up before his pupils surfaced.

“This okay?” You pinched a piggy and waited.

He shrugged and you didn’t feel the same twitching you had before.

Enough of a clear, you looked over the part of him that you’d never had a chance to examine. With two toes at the front and a jutting heel, his foot was massive. It made sense with his height and you almost mourned the lost one for what it must have done to his balance.

In a little shift, he angled his body so the back of his knee would catch the tub and pour his far leg over it. It meant his foot dropped to a more manageable level. Sending him a thankful smile, you sat back and leaned against the tub. Tracing his heel, you mapped that no matter the overall shape, it had the same structure as yours. Moving to palm the ball of it, you let your thumb cascade overtop where you found the skin softer also like on your own. Pushed by cleanliness, you pressed a kiss there to seal the texture to your favorite memory banks.

It was something almost plush and you wondered if it had less scaling as you relieved yourself for your intended task. Throwing a look over your shoulder found only a sliver of Donnie watching and you held up a bottle of purple nail polish for him to see.

His brows moved with faint curiosity and you lifted his foot a little to show where you wanted it to go. “Wipe it off if I can’t take the sensation?”

“Course.” You turned and pulled off a few squares of toilet paper from where you could just reach. “You’ll feel it coat the nail though, heads up.”

“Understood.” He mumbled, eyes closing against his will. 

Pulling his foot into a better position, you kicked a leg up to set it on your knee. Shaking the bottle, you then readied yourself to paint. Lid free and taking a few stabs at getting enough on the brush, you took your time in calculating a proper swipe. Brushing from cuticle out, you did a clean sweep and mentally patted yourself on the back. Donnie flexed his toes curiously and you patted that soft skin to translate you needed to do more and quickly. He held still as you swiped out the first layer with only minor leakage.

He seemed alright up until you ran a nail along his bed to catch the excess. He jolted there with a slosh of water and scolded you for the feeling. Urging him that it was alright, you got caught in a minor stand-off. Too tired to keep it up, it broke for him to ask you not to do that again. You told him that might not be possible and he compromised that he needed a warning to steel himself. Moving onto the other toe, calm filtered in as he soaked and you painted. With quiet breaks, you took to massaging his arch in between coats. You found he was nothing but knotted tension and though the rub was against his current proclivities, the soothing work on those long forgotten muscles turned him into further goo. With four total coats to get solid coverage against his darkened skin and a massage to go with each minor drying, his foot was completely limp by the end. Capping the bottle, he lifted his leg to examine the work and surely caught the holographic sheen by the way he rotated his ankle.

“Good?” You asked, sleepy and cheek to porcelain. “Good.” He repeated with a sharp satisfaction.

NEXT

As always, I'm am forever grateful to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[jasper-book-stash]

October 2024 Reading Wrap-Up

The eight books of this month really made me experience the whole span of human emotion. And maybe a couple of the shrimp ones.

Religious Text

None applicable.

1/10 - Why Did They Publish This?

None applicable (thank the gods).

2/10 - Trash

Pure Magic: A Complete Course In Spellcasting | Judika Illes

The amount of times I screeched about citing sources or admitting that the author has none...I didn't get too far. The author was wholeass pulling things out of her ass. This is the epitome of bullshit "feminist" pseudohistory. I couldn't even get to the parts about occultism because the bullshit made me throw the book.

(Side note, I don't think it's very "feminist" to depict women of the past as having a beautiful matriarchal society and then having that taken over by men... Like girl, you are actively shitting upon those who came before you! You are downplaying their struggles and lying!!!)

3/10 - Meh

Horses And The Mystical Path: The Celtic Way Of Expanding The Human Soul | Adele Von Rust Mccormick, Ph.D., Marlena Deborah Mccormick, Ph.D., Thomas E Mccormick, M.D.

Here's the thing. Except for the emphasis on combining a whole bunch of cultures together as Celtic, this was just...not the book for me. I'm not Christian, I'm not struggling with finding my faith in any way, and while I like horses I don't care much for the approach. It was just...boring to me.

4 to 6/10 - Mid-Tier

The Husbands | Holly Gramazio

This was a decent book. It's about a husband-producing attic, and the main female character trying to find out what's going on. But it was very difficult to keep up with all of the characters (because their details often changed with each husband) and the female character got to the point where she was just regularly speedrunning husband options. It feels like this was a little too long for what it was. I probably would have enjoyed it more if it was a novella instead of a novel. But hey, it was a debut novel, and we always love to see more authors coming up and out.

7 to 8/10 - Good With Caveats

Mead Mishaps 2 and 3: That Time I Got Drunk And Yeeted A Love Potion At A Werewolf & That Time I Got Drunk And Saved A Human | Kimberly Lemming

I read and enjoyed book one in September, and book two was just as good and fun, with a mystery incel cult going on. Book three was a little less enjoyable than the first, because it felt like it was setting up for things that never came through, and there's only so much new stuff you can tread with the same approach of "male dragon and [redacted for spoilers] human woman". But it was still stupid and fun and very, very horny. And these ones put content warnings in the beginning, which is very nice!

Mothman: Behind The Red Eyes…The Complete Investigative Library | Jeff Wamsley

My overall feelings about this book is that it's fine, the author's interviewing skills suck shit. There are a lot of newspaper clippings and some of the formatting makes me want to chew rocks, but it's otherwise pretty good. We take a very interesting detour into aliens and the Men in Black. It's also important to note that this is apparently the second Mothman book he's written and he repeatedly references the first one, which I do not have, but it also kinda stands on its own.

It's funny because I did not buy this book. My stepdad's coworker heard my stepdad talking about hopes to eventually go to West Virginia to see the Mothman statue and just. Had the book. And gave it to my stepdad.

Honestly, what a fitting way to acquire such a book.

9/10 - Very Very Good

Providence Girls: A Sapphic Horror Romance | Morgan Dante

This book made me want to chew a hole through sheetrock. That is a compliment. DEFINITELY mind the content warnings. Spoilers coming up, but the spoilers aren't actually that surprising when you remember that this is a Lovecraftian lesbian romance.

So the framing of it is that it's letters between Lavinia Whateley and Asenath Waite. Lavinia escapes being sacrificed in Dunwich and runs until she winds up in East Providence, where Asenath finds her and takes her in. Asenath is slowly turning into a fish person because she's from the mess going on in Arkham and they live together and it's simultaneously an analysis of Lovecraftian horror, living in the 1930s, and sapphic romance. They're so freaking cute.

Lavinia's letters are framed as being post-Azzie's fishification while Azzie's are from before that, but the letters alternate to create a linear narrative despite this non-linear framing.

10/10 - Unironically Recommend To Everyone

Doing Justice: A Prosecutor's Thoughts On Crime, Punishment, And The Rule Of Law | Preet Bharara

If you've been paying attention to the most recent posts on this blog, you're not going to be surprised that I've been going insane over this book. Narrative nonfiction wasn't one that I thought I would enjoy, but now I know that I do. There was only one part that I had to skip, personally, because of the details discussed...but honestly, it was so good. I look forward to reading more of what this author writes.

[lgbtqreads]

hi! i’m looking for some nonbinary/trans books. preferably middle grade, maybe younger YA. queer joy is a bonus!

You got it! There are all MG, with asterisks signifying books coming later in the year:

Trans Boys:

Obie is Man Enough by Schuyler Bailar

The Ship We Built by Lexie Bean

Dear Mothman by Robin Gow

The Other Boy by M.G. Hennessey

Too Bright to See by Kyle Lukoff

Trans Girls:

Zenobia July by Lisa Bunker

Joy, to the World by Lisa Bunker and Kai Shappley

Melissa by Alex Gino

Gracefully Grayson by Ami Polonsky

The Deep & Dark Blue by Niki Smith (Graphic Novel)

The Ojja-Wojja by Magdalene Visaggio (text) and Jenn St-Onge (illustration) (Graphic Novel)

Nonbinary MCs:

*Deephaven by Ethan M. Aldridge

Moonflower by Kacen Callender

Alice Austen Lived Here by Alex Gino

*Green by Alex Gino

*The Lonely Book by Meg Grehan

Skating on Mars by Caroline Huntoon

*Elle Campbell Saves Their Saturday by Ben Kahn

Both Can Be True by Jules Machias (Genderfluid)

The One Who Loves You Most by medina – A

Rabbit Chase by Elizabeth LaPensée and K.C. Oster (Graphic Novel)

Tiger Honor by Yoon Ha Lee

Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston by Esme Symes-Smith

The Beautiful Something Else by Ash Van Otterloo

Spin With Me by Ami Polonsky

Jude Saves the World by Ronnie Riley

Ana on the Edge by A.J. Sass

Ellen Outside the Lines by AJ Sass

Camp QUILTBAG by Nicole Melleby and AJ Sass

The Fabulous Zeb Watson! by Kevin Sylvester and Basil Sylvester

The Best Liars in Riverview by Lin Thompson

The House that Whispers by Lin Thompson (Amz)

*The Otherwoods by Justine Pucella Winans

There is also very significant nonbinary representation in Different Kinds of Fruit by Kyle Lukoff, Twelfth by Janet Key, and A Touch of Ruckus by Ash Van Otterloo.

In younger YA, there's not a ton, but I'd definitely give a shout to the genderqueer paranormal Out of Salem by Hal Schrieve, and I think the trans girl graphic novel romance Cheer Up! could work too!

(If you want all these links on one page, and/or to track ones coming up even further in the future, here's the MG page: https://lgbtqreads.com/middle-grade/)

[innytoes]

Hello, five (or more, I wouldn't say no) spontaneous headcanons about a willex boarding school au? 👀 (sfw please)

-When Caleb gets a call that his sister left custody over her son to him, a nephew he never even knew he had, he is like: wtf. When he comes to meet with the social worker and sees the long hair, tie-dye crop top, and earring, he’s like: of course I am taking him in. (There’s a reason he hasn’t talked to his family for decades and he will not have them do the same to Willie as they did to him.)

Except being a full-time parent and running the HGC is not a great combination, especially with Willie’s flair for Chaos. So he makes him a deal: he can go to any boarding school in the country, or even the world, if he promises to behave enough not to get kicked out, and in return he can wreak whatever chaos he wants in the summers (within reason).

-Willie chooses the boarding school because they have a great art program, they’re queer-friendly (Caleb called to check), and it’s in the Woods and he 1) always liked the woods and 2) wants to see Bigfoot.

-Alex’ parents sent him to boarding school after he came out. Alex is not sure he understands their reasoning, given that it is an all-boy’s boarding school and that is like the opposite of ‘straightening him out’, but anything is better than the icy silence at home. Alex’ parents do not know the entire stack of Hot Gay Boarding School Romance Novels under his older sister’s bed that Alex may or may not have borrowed.

-Listen Alex likes his roommate Luke and he’s kind of open to the idea of starting a band with him but also he is SO ENERGETIC and he cannot sit still and he’s always humming and it drives Alex insane.

-So he goes to hide out in the library. Not the fancy new one with amazing computers and a 3D printer and shit, the dusty old one nobody uses because the wifi is shit and it‘s always cold and drafty but it looks great on pamphlets for the Old Money crowd. He bundles up in his hoodie and finds a comfy armchair and just gets to Be Still for a moment.

-Except his peace and quiet is interrupted at a gleeful shout and then a maniac on a skateboard comes into view, sliding his board on the fancy brass railings before landing hard and rolling right into Alex and his comfy armchair, sending both of them toppling backward.

-“Oh man you dinged my board” meetcute etc etc.

-Lots of cute sneaking around in the dark holding hands dates. Willie shows him how to get on the roof and it’s so peaceful and pretty there he loves it. They take up a blanket and watch the stars next time, and share their first kiss there.

-Maybe he sends his sister a postcard like: ‘Boarding school is great, I am learning so much, all this nature is so good for me, etc etc platitudes’ along with an abbreviated title of one of their favourite books with the chapter in which the main characters have their first kiss... on a rooftop.

- “I dunno what HGBSRNCH12 means, Mom, I think he was just trying to clean his pen or something, it’s just a random scribble. You know Alex hates when pens aren’t writing smoothly.”

-Soon they form a little group with Bobby (rich parents who travel a lot and don’t want to take him with them) and Reggie (the scholarship kid). Reggie is upset there are no secret societies at this school. He thought maybe none of them just wanted him, but he could still catch one in the act of secret society-ing. But Bobby (a legacy kid) told him there weren’t any.

-Obvs they start a secret society just for the fun of it. Since they can’t play music late at night without getting caught (then it’s not a Secret Society, Luke, you dumbass), their activities include Sneaking, Stealing Snacks, Trying To Find Bigfoot and/or Mothman in the woods, and picnics on the roof. But while wearing dramatic hoods and holding (fake, battery-powered, Alex does not trust these goofballs with fire) candles and stuff.

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

[mermaidsirennikita]

Lothaire has the greatest meet cute I've ever read because:

a) it begins when our heroine is literally trying to step into a rain of police bullets because she doesn't want to put her family at risk of being murdered by the evil goddess possessing her body anymore

b) our hero enters the scene popping up out of nowhere, taking all those bullets, described (by her) as "the red-eyed demon" lmao

c) he gets shot again and looks at the cops and goes "A MOMENT"

d) he chastises her for wanting to kill herself because of "a few murders" and gives her a look that is described as "grow up"

e) "Listen very carefully, Elizabeth. I am Lothaire the Enemy of Old, and you belong to me. After considering my options, I've decided I will let you go to jail this eve."

f) he for sure did not "consider his options" and was absolutely winging it

[thischarmingmandalorian]

Me, two days ago: Buying a Mothman romance novel on a whim, mostly for a laugh

Me, two hours ago: Voracious for the rest of the series, learning the author and I live in the same city, and meeting her at my favorite weirdo store?!