Roo 🔞 A BAD DOG IS COMING

@frictionpress.bsky.social

2529 Followers 375 Following

he is writing distressing, erotic stories for filth loving queers 🪦🕊️ achillean horrors and fantasies for the adult soul roofiction @ gmail frictionpress.com ddmarket.online

bad dog cover art by K M Claude

illustrated cover on splattered orange and blue background. left side shows white weathered hands cupping a small blood-red spider. right side shows weathered brown hands cupping fresh fruits with slightly off kilter text that reads bad dog

illustrated cover on splattered orange and blue background showing weathered brown hands cupping fresh fruits with slightly off kilter text that reads bad dog

sample text reads:
The four of them met up every week at René’s apartment to swap stories, and escape their parents’ watchful eye.
“So they teaching you how to be a girl over there?” Sidney asked one night as he plucked at the guitar that René had gifted him on his last birthday.
Paz snorted, sprawled on the couch behind where Sidney was perched, and pointed at their brother. “They’re obviously doing a bang up job.”
Yves stuck his tongue out from where he sat on the floor, his shirt off, breasts out, deftly rolling a joint in his fingers. “All day they yap on and on about how to be a good wife so you can cook for your husband and clean for your husband and impress your husband’s friends by speaking Latin or whatever, but not once do they ever show us any cock worth looking at.”
“Are they showing you cock at the ‘how to be a nice little girl’ school?” Paz blurted out.
Yves scoffed. “I wish they would. Maybe then I’d pay attention. Least it’d be something interesting to look at.”

sample page from BAD DOG. text reads:
The forest stood before him like bodies frozen in place. Hundreds of bodies, their arms held up above their heads or behind their backs, twisted out of place, never moving for anything, not even for the wolves.
Sometimes the trees scared Nelly more than anything else. How could
they be so still? Things died in the woods all the time, but the trees didn’t care. They just stood there and watched, alive and unable to move. He thought about people trapped in a hard bark shell. Did they even know they weren’t alone in there? Did they scream inside their cage of bark and only managed a groan in the wood?
Everybody said if you asked the gods for something selfish, all you’d get in return is bad luck. His mother didn’t pray, but they made Nelly do it at school. Every single spring and autumn when the holidays rolled around and those silver offering plates showed up, Nelly begged his mother for something to bring to school with him so he could ask for something like all the other kids. Every season, he picked a different small god to ask for the same thing, hoping against hope that this god would finally be the one to listen.
Bring my dad home.

stock photo of a man touching his temples with a red glow on his forehead as if to signify a headache or possibly psychic powers

screenshot of let's go to heaven where both offered choices read "no"

cartoony boy's face in shirt and tie with very flustered expression. speech bubble with stuttering text "I was going to ask if you were—the first one!"

screenshot taken from the comic gilded arrangements. left side shows a man's face in large glasses. on the right is a phone screen showing text message instructions the man has sent. speech bubble reads: you're going to make me break my favorite toy

sample text from a forthcoming novel called bad dog. off white text on dark green background reads as follows: The large Gods who fill the sky, merciful as they are, sent to us the smallest gods so they may listen closer.
But the small gods grow hungry from their journey to the earth, so we must feed them with our prayers and offerings. We must pass their names down to our children so They may live long after we do.

Worry not when death arrives for you, your brother, your husband, your son. Even our most foolish of friends can live forever in the mouths of the Gods.
Never let go.
Never let go.
Never let us go

grainy dark blue image with white pointed lines on the left side resembling teeth. small text on the right side says friction press

screenshot of a paragraph of text from THE NIGHT PRINCE & THE ROSEFINCH featuring a black and white illustration of the titular Rosefinch having a life changing orgasm

text reads the night prince and the rosefinch. the first body. red text is overlaid on a black and white illustration of a massive demon with bat wings and a pale hand reaching toward the moon where a red finch is depicted with wings stretched.

text reads
Humans are so prude. Aurelius laughs. “ swear they were all sex and booze a few hundred years ago.

Iris props their spike-heeled boot up on the side of the carriage door. They still love sex and booze, they just pretend not to in public.

Hopefully that’ll ease up now that Silence is back where he belongs. Aurelius says, flashing him a warm smile.

Silence nods. All good things return eventually. Humans go through eras like we go through wine.

screenshot of a tier from the crowdfundr for the stillborn moon that shows two purple bats to represent the two books you can order for 40 dollars. text reads mythic bodies volumes 1 and 2 40 dollars USD plus shipping

screenshot of visceral hit's commission tier for the crowdfunder for the stillborn moon and the stolen ember. features a black and white illustration of a body encased in a glass and stone vial

screenshot of the two book reward tier from the crowdfundr page with two purple bats as the icon. the tier costs 40 dollars for both volumes of the mythic bodies series

sample text from the stillborn moon & the stolen ember that reads:
The finch does not know how long Silence plays with him in the garden. He is lost in a haze of pollen and nectar, but even after Silence whisks him away to the baths, he can feel the cool marble of those long, elegant fingers drawing lovingly down his scars. Silence kept pushing the finch’s hair away from his back, taking every opportunity to touch and lick and rub those gouges of missing flesh where wings once took root.
In a moment of weakness within the hollow of the Queen’s pomegranate tree, the finch asked for something to tie his hair back just to feel that full-moon gaze upon his greatest shame. He could not even see Silence’s face, and yet the thrill of his attention was enough to push the finch into a frenzy of need.
Sitting neck-deep in the running water of the bath, the finch boils in the lingering haze of the pomegranate wine and says aloud, I wish to cut my hair.

vash and knives from trigun enjoying a brotherly embrace

silly graphic depicting a container twenty five percent full to represent progress on the crowdfundr for the sequel to the night prince and the rosefinch

photo of shikishi board showing shimmery paint

screenshot of the upcoming crowdfundr for the stillborn moon and the stolen ember showing a countdown of 1 da 6 hours 52 minutesand 37 seconds until launch

sample text from mythic bodies vol 3 that reads
As he stands at the threshold to the human world, there is fear in him.
This place is one step closer to the heavens. One step closer to the place where he fell from or was pushed.

text reads: As he breaks out of the treeline, his boots sinking into the muddied lawn, the windows of the house go dark as a shadow blankets the structure, erasing it from sight.

Something has pooled itself on top of the farmhouse, leaving nothing but a black hole where the house used to be.