Snippet From My Queer Polyamorous Romance Novel, Community Witch - An Unapologetically Trope-y, Cozy,

Snippet from my queer polyamorous romance novel, Community Witch - an unapologetically trope-y, cozy, and relationship-driven romance story about the healing from trauma, found family, and joyful queer relationships. (Looking to publish next year.) --- As they drifted back to Nat’s car, the anxiety beast clawed its way back with a vengeance, keeping Aspen from working up the nerve to take Nat’s hand. What if they had misread Nat’s interest? What if all she wanted was to be friends? Surely it couldn’t be this easy the second time around? It was only when they pulled up in front of their house that Aspen managed to wrestle their anxiety down enough to blurt out the question that had been burning in their mind the entire night.

“Was this a date?”

Nat smiled, as calmly unflappable as ever, and cocked her head. “Did you want it to be?” she asked softly.

Aspen felt their face grow suddenly, painfully warm and nodded, unwilling to trust their voice. Nat’s smile grew, and Aspen’s breath hitched as she slowly took their hand and stroked their palm with her thumb. “Then yes, it was a date.” She leaned forward slowly, looked down at their lips, then back up into their eyes. “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

One of my two trans BFFs, Phoenix (a fellow trans masc) has said for years that he doesn't understand how anyone could misgender me as female. I love feeling seen, but always found this a bit baffling as 95% of people clock me as AFAB within seconds of seeing me, despite being YEARS into my transition. Last night I finally heard the whole story. Apparently a few years ago, Phoenix forgot I was coming over and did mushrooms. And then we watched Bros, and Phoenix was so struck by my similarities to the main character that he was just like 'wow, Ash is an angry gay man'. And that perception of me stuck so hard that it left no room for literally any other interpretation of me in his brain. So yeah. My friend did shrooms about my gender so hard that he can't remember that there are people who don't perceive me? Which is pretty fucking hilarious.

What If... Part 2 (blatant Trans Wish Fulfilment Smut)

Working through Personal Trans Shit with fanfic of my own characters from a project I haven't published yet. Smutty smut under the cut. Content note for bottom dysphoria.

Kissing, as it usually did, led to other things. (Even after more than two years together Corey and Dee still struggled to keep their hands off one another when given the opportunity.) Corey was almost unbearably sweet as he undressed Dee, asking if they'd wanted to leave their binder on (they didn't) and urging them to tell him if something felt wrong.

However, while Dee wouldn't have said that anything felt wrong, exactly, neither did it feel right. Corey was doing all the things that used to drive them wild, but the physical sensations felt as if they were coming from a million miles away. As if they were happening to someone else. Their body gasped and moaned at his touch, but it didn't feel like it meant anything.

Corey's tongue was warm and wet as he lapped at their clit, but Dee found themself reaching for their bond, for the feeling of Corey's cock, which was hard, throbbing, and entirely too untouched for Dee's liking, as he was entirely focused on them at the moment.

What was wrong with them? Why couldn't they just enjoy this?

When the answer hit a moment later, Dee felt as if all the air had been knocked from their body. They weren't enjoying it because they... didn't want to be doing it. This. Because what they wanted...

Their brain struggled to complete the sentence as Corey's hand teasingly brushed the inside of their thigh, then slowly traveled upward.

What they wanted--

...his fingers gently stroked the outer edge of their labia, before...

What they really wanted--

...he slid two fingers into them, and--

And they couldn't bear it, couldn't stand the way it took them out of focusing on what he felt and how it reminded them of what they didn't have. Because what they wanted was for Corey to touch himself, to feel second-hand through their bond what he felt with a hand wrapped around his dick. They wanted to come from feeling his pleasure, because they couldn't feel their own anymore.

"Stop," Dee gasped, bursting into tears.

Corey stopped immediately, and the sense of shared awareness faded as Corey lost his concentration. Dee felt that loss of sensation almost as keenly as they felt the pain of realizing that they didn't want to be touched - all of which was wrapped up with intense self-disgust. They curled into a tiny ball of shame and sobbed, feeling as if their world was coming apart at the seams.

"Hey. Hey, now." Corey's voice was soft and low as he wrapped himself around them. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay? So just breathe."

Dee tried to do as he said, but they were powerless against the tremors wracking them. "I wanted to like it. I used to like it so much."

"You can't force yourself to like something," Corey said firmly. "And you shouldn't try."

"But I don't want to hate having sex with you," Dee all but wailed.

Corey hesitated. "I... Obviously I can't know what you're feeling. But I promise you that we'll get through this, okay? However you feel right now isn't the way it's going to be forever."

Dee laughed despite themself. "You can't know that," they hiccuped.

"Yes I can," Corey shot back, a smile audible in his voice. "You know how stubborn I can be about pointless stuff. Imagine how much more stubborn I can be about something that really matters to me."

Again, Dee laughed, then shuddered as they were able to take one shaky breath. Then another.

"Good." Corey kissed the back of their neck. "Now. Talk to me?"

"It's probably weird, but it's like... my body is reacting like I'm enjoying myself, but I can't connect with it, because I..." Dee had to struggle to force the next word out. "Hate. Not having a dick. And when you touch me like that, I can't... I can't not think about how much I hate it."

Corey was quiet for a long moment, and Dee could feel him probing tentatively at the edge of their feelings. "You've been having these feelings for a long time, haven't you?" He finally asked. When Dee nodded miserably and tried to curl up even more, he wrapped his arms tightly around their waist. "You're okay. I'm not upset."

"It's not you! It's me! It's everything I grew up with telling me that I'm gross, and awful, and disgusting. And the Pope saying I'm a fucking war crime for having those feelings."

"Okay. Well. Can you turn and look at me here?"

Grudgingly, Dee uncurled and turned over so they could see Corey's face.

"You're not a war crime," he said sternly. "And I don't think you're gross and disgusting. Obviously. So. Set those feelings to the side for now and talk to me about this dysphoria. How did all this start, and where are you now? I want to understand so I can help you better."

Dee nodded and wiped their eyes as they consulted their feelings and tried to put them into something resembling a logical order. "I didn't realize until... pretty recently that what I was feeling was dysphoria," they said slowly. "Because it just started as thinking. You know. Wouldn't it be hot to have a dick? When you do that thing where you turn on Feelings Sharing, I liked feeling how you felt when I touched your dick. And, God, I liked feeling what it felt like when you fucked me. And for a long time that's all it was. Thinking about what it would be like to have a dick, but being fine with not having one.

"Until it started becoming... not fine. So I just... started focusing more on you and less on me when we had sex. And then finally, a couple days ago, I realized that I couldn't come at all anymore unless I was focusing on what you felt and pretending that you were me. And that's when the wheels started coming off the bus."

Corey's expression was gentle as he tangled his fingers through Dee's hair. "That's why you've been mostly wanting me to fuck you these last few months?"

Dee cringed. "I could tell you liked feeling what I felt, and I told myself what I was doing wasn't any different. Because acknowledging how I felt would have meant doing something about it, and I was scared. And ashamed."

"Okay. Well. Tomorrow I'm going to talk to Barnabus. Because honestly, that sounds pretty bad, and like something we should take really seriously. And no, I won't mention anything embarrassing. All right?"

Dee nodded, hating the way their lower lip wobbled as they did so.

"Great. In the meantime... what do you want to do right now? Do you want to stop?"

"No," Dee grumped, which earned a confused look from Corey. "I'm just mad that you eating me out is off the table because you're really good at it."

Corey's lusciously thick lips curved into a smile. "Okay, well. Why don't you use our magic while I fuck you, since you said that helps your dysphoria?"

"I mean." Dee bit their lip anxiously. "You're sure it's okay for me to use you like that?"

"Put it this way," Corey said, the love in his big, beautiful brown eyes so intense that Dee wanted to melt right into them. "Your dysphoria is clearly causing you a lot of pain. So given a choice between 'not having sex because it's painful and distressing for you' and 'using our magic to make sex enjoyable and non-dyphoric for you', which do you think I'm going to go with?"

Dee's throat closed again and they had to breathe deeply to fight off yet another wave of tears. "That makes sense," they managed.

"In fact, let's try this. Lie on your back and close your eyes."

Curious to see where he was going with this, Dee complied, and a moment later felt it as Corey invoked the bond between them. (He'd tried before to explain how he'd did it, but his explanations had never made any sense to Dee.)

Corey's voice was low and soothing as he spoke. "You don't have to touch me, okay? And you don't have to think about you. Forget the sheets, forget the pillows, and just focus on what I'm feeling."

Dee breathed slowly as they cataloged the sensations of their own body before setting them aside. They could feel Corey stretched out on the bed next to them, all of his weight on one elbow. His cock was mostly soft, but they could feel his warm rush of arousal as he began to harden again.

"You with me?" he asked quietly as he placed a hand on his cock.

"Yes," Dee groaned.

Corey's rich baritone was playing arpeggios on their spine, even as they could feel his cock hardening further. "There's no you and me like this. We're both me right now, and that's okay, because I want to share this with you. Understand?"

Dee shivered as Corey ran a thumb over the tip of his cock. "Yes."

"Good." Corey took himself in hand. "Now feel your hand wrapped around your cock," he instructed, with only a faint emphasis on the pronouns.

Dee's eyes prickled with unshed tears as the power of that phrase - your cock - sparked something big and powerful and inside them.

"Now feel yourself stroking your cock," Corey continued as he started to do so. Dee focused on the feeling of delicious opposites - the soft skin of his cock against his lightly callused palm, the hardness of it against the fleshy base of his thumb. It was easier like this, they discovered, to feel their own arousal, even as they were focusing on his.

"Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," Dee gasped.

Corey chuckled as he leaned over to get the lube from the bedside table. A moment later, there was the strangely appealing sensation of Corey applying lube to himself, and then he was on top of them, his weight carefully on his knees and elbows as he gently kissed their forehead. "Do what you need to do," he reminded them. "If that means lying still, then lie still. Whatever you need."

Dee nodded, not trusting their voice.

Corey carefully positioned the head of his cock at their entrance before slowly sliding into them, taking several second to bury himself to the hilt.

Frustratingly, Dee found it difficult to hold onto the idea that they were Corey now that he was inside them. How could they be fucking themself? But somehow, Corey divined the source of their difficulty, and said just the right thing. "You're not fucking you, right now. You're fucking me, because we switched." Slowly, so very fucking slowly he began to withdraw from them. "And I said that was okay. So that makes this your dick, that you're using to fuck me."

That did the trick.

Dee moaned as Corey... as they reversed course and slowly fucked back into Corey. And sure, the analogy didn't totally make sense, but it didn't need to as long as they focused on the feeling of their dick and how incredible it felt thrusting into Corey's wet velvet heat.

"Yes," they whispered. "More. I want to fuck you harder."

Corey groaned, the rush of arousal he felt as he obliged spilling over into Dee, who reveled in the feeling of blood rushing to their already achingly-hard cock. And suddenly, after months of increasingly-maddening struggles to connect their body to their feelings, Dee had what they needed to get out of their own way.

They moaned, and Corey moaned, and they both moaned as Dee fucked Corey. Distantly, somewhere far away, they knew they were crying, their tears leaking down the sides of their face and into their hair, but that was something they could deal with later. Right now all that mattered was the feeling of Corey wrapped around their cock and the slick, incredible friction as they fucked him. They weren't able to last long at all before Corey clenched around them... or they clenched around Corey... it was hard to hold onto the metaphor as their, his cock twitched and spilled into them, and their body writhed underneath him with the power of his, of their mutual, utterly shattering release.

(Read Part 1 on AO3 here)

Part 3 of What If... is up

In which I write fic of my own characters before the actual project they come from is published... Partly because I want to work through some Personal Trans Shit, but partly because I want to write wish fulfilment fantasy about magical HRT and trans enby porn.

From Chapter 3:

Unsure of the etiquette, Dee swept into a low bow. "Lady Eachna, I presume."

"No need for that," she said, rising gracefully from the desk. Eachna gestured toward a pair of chairs in the corner, taking one for herself while Dee awkwardly took the other. "Any friend of Sebastian's is a friend of mine. Now. I understand you're having trouble with options for gender transition that are being compounded by the human world's strict gender binary?"

Dee blinked, surprised to hear their problem so accurately summarized by a stranger. "I mean. Yeah. That's... yeah."

"So. Tell me more about that. What are you looking for, specifically?"

When Dee blushed and looked at their feet, Eachna smiled reassuringly. "I promise, whatever you may think, nothing you say could shock or disgust me. For one, I'm old. Far, far older than I look. Certainly old enough to have seen pretty much everything.

"For another, most fae see gender as a game that you play, not a thing that you are. Not having a binary gender, or having a gender that changes over time is extremely common here, and as a healer, I see those seeking changes that go deeper than mere illusion all the time.

"Lastly, I want to help because I owe your partner a debt. I don't like debts, so helping you is something that benefits both of us. So feel free to be brutally frank about what you need."

Part 1 here

Part 2, with that Good Trans Wish Fulfilment Smut here

So I started writing a short fic about how Alisaie had to browbeat my Warrior of Light into letting her suck their dick despite their age difference...

(I am aware that the devs claim that everything from 2.0 through Dawntrail has taken less than a year, and I call bullshit. That is dev laziness, pure and simple. You can't tell me I ended a 1000 year war, liberated two nations on different continents from their colonial oppressors, traveled to an alternate dimension to prevent a future where you died, went to the moon and the literal edge of existence to stop the end of the world, and traveled the length and breadth of the fantasy equivalent of North and South America... All in less than one year. No. Absolutely not. No way.)

And now I am 3000 words into writing a fic that reflects on the inherent tension between 'power imbalances are created by large age gaps in ways that are usually pretty gross " and "saying that 'it is not okay to have large age differences in relationships even when both people are adults' infantalizes people and denies their agency"...

That is also about wanting to suck dick.