#Queer Writer

[eddiestightywhities]

homeward bound | t | 3527

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He'd taken a breath. And then another. Then he'd forced a plastic smile onto his face and painted it with as much selfless understanding as he could muster and miraculously came up with, “Well, we should move this party to the couch,�� before offering himself up as a Virtual Real Estate Meeting Wingman like a certified insane person.

See, Buck loves Eddie; other than Christopher and Jee-Yun, Eddie is Buck's most favourite person in all the world, and Buck only ever wants what is best for him.

So what in the ever-loving fuck was he doing helping the guy turn both of their lives into what would be an incontestable living hell?

OR

A Coda for s08e08 'Wannabies', including the making of plans, a little gift giving, and a lot of two six-foot plus extra Idiots In Love.

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read it on ao3 HERE

[teencopandthesourwolf]

edited version can be read on ao3 HERE

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“Need a hand with that?”

Derek didn't drop the tire he was carrying, but it was a close thing. He'd recognise that voice anywhere—would know it in a sea of a thousand others.

He slowly turned on his heel to find its owner sat in Derek's favourite tree.

Stiles.

“You're here,” he breathed, not bothering to hide the mix of shock and relief that coloured his own voice and features.

Stilesʼ lips twitched. “I'm here,” he confirmed, just in case Derek needed to hear it.

“Hey,” Derek said, eloquent as ever.

“Hey yourself,” Stiles grinned back.

Shifting his weight on the tree branch, Stiles then pulled himself up to standing. He wiped his hands on the ass of his jeans before proffering one towards Derek.

“I'm Mieczysław Stilinski. It's really nice to meet you, dude.”

Stilesʼcheeks flushed an overwhelmingly pretty shade of pink, and Derek wanted to eat him.

Reaching out to take the hand in one of his own, the pads of his fingertips brushed the familiar Jack rabbit pulse at Stiles's wrist, for just a second, and it was both a calling card and like a huge sigh of relief.

He turned the name around in his mind.

Mieczysław. Mieczysław Stilinski.

It was unexpected, and very Polish, and Derek sort of adored it.

Looking a little antsy, Stiles said, “It, uh, means 'sword' in Polish. If you go in for that sort of thing.” He blushed some more and then snorted at himself. “But yeah, I know it's kinda... ʼSʼobviously why I go by Stiles—which was my Grandfather's nickname too, by the way.”

Derek's heart swelled in his chest.

This was what they could've had if things had gone differently for them.

He cleared his throat, took a deep intake of woodsmoke-laced air into his lungs, then said, “Broderick Seth Rodman Hale, third son of Talia and Seth Hale of the Hale Pack of Beacon Hills county, North California, and I'm very pleased to meet you're acquaintance. Oh, and do not call me dude, by the way.”

“Broderick? Are you shitting me right now?!” Stiles blurted, trying and failing to not laugh.

Derek rolled his eyes and it felt like breathing. “Seriously? I think you'll find you don't have even half a leg to stand on, Mieczysław.”

“Actually, I have two, Broderick Seth Rodman Hale, and I diligently used the both of them to come out here to Bumfuck nowhere to find you.”

He shot Derek with ridiculous finger guns then blew away imaginary gunpowder smoke, and if it wasn't for the kid's beard it could've easily been thirteen-years ago.

Not a kid anymore.

Stiles looked amazing. A little broader, and a little fuller in the face, and the beard really, really suited him. At once, Derek had the desperate urge to sink his claws into it and paw at the pale skin beneath. He wanted to back Stiles into the bark of the tree and bury his nose in that long, mole-peppered neck he still had dreams about, to breathe in pure unadulterated Stiles.

He swallowed thickly, licking at his dry lips and wishing they were Stilesʼ. Had to force himself to unclench the fist not currently grasping Stiles's hand.

Derek had to try his best to pretend that he wasn't very aware of the fact that they were still very much holding onto each other.

“Broderick means 'brother' in Old Norse, if you go in for that sort of thing,” he offered, borrowing Stiles's banter.

Stiles's smile was easy, albeit tainted with a hint of sadness for that piece of information. He was sort of—looser. More relaxed, and definitely less agitated than he used to be. Though he smelled exactly the same as he always had: Of strong coffee and Bath & Body Oak shower gel and wild cinnamon and lemon sherbet dip, and that particular warm smack of something that Derek had always struggled to place—the very essence of Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski.

The familiar tang zinged over his taste buds like popping candy, and his wolf took up its routinely impatient pacing at his core as if they had seen Stiles only yesterday.

“I'm—uh, I don't—you look good, Stiles. Really good.”

This human was the only creature on planet earth that had Derek Hale fumbling his words.

Stiles was smirking his signature smirk—only there was something new pulling at the curve of that life-ruining mouth of his.

Unerring confidence.

Derek sniffed at the air and licked at his lips again so he could taste that, too.

“You're look pretty fine yourself there, Sourwolf,” Stiles divulged, mirroring Derek again by licking his own lips. He shamelessly looked Derek up and down and said, “Your edges aren't quite so sharp, and you're little softer ʼround the eyes, like maybe you're—I dunno. Something closer to being happy?” His eyes shone like the full moon in the dark when he told Derek, “And, dare I say it, maybe not even all that sour anymore?”

Derek huffed a breath out through his nostrils that was in the proximity of a laugh.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Looks good on you, man. Really good.”

Stiles was borrowing Derek's words, and if he kept saying things like that to Derek while looking at Derek the way that he was, Derek would have to restrain himself from picking the guy up by the scruff of his very nice sweater and kissing the words right out of his mouth.

Then everything sort of stilled, somehow, including the wind, and the birds, and them, as if the whole world had just halted for something incredibly important.

They stood there, just gazing at each other. Like there wasn't anything else they could or would possibly be doing right now.

Ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty.

It was obvious to even the blades of grass on the ground that they both still felt it.

Slowly, slowly, they caught back up to reality.

Derek took a breath and found his voice again.

“Might've taken a few pointers from a kid I used to know,” he smiled, eyes never leaving Stilesʼ.

Then he thought in for a penny and admitted, “I hoped you'd come looking for me—and I want you to know that I'm really, really glad that you did.”

Stiles squinted at him through the sun's afternoon rays that broke through the Colorado cloud cover like the heavens had suddenly appeared. In that moment, he reminded Derek of the beautiful golden Aztec Sanvitalia shrub that grew down by the little stream behind his cabin. He wondered briefly if that was the missing base note in Stiles's scent, and felt a little insane with it all.

“Well, I knew I'd find you,” Stiles shrugged, “because one: I'm like a dog with a bone, and two: You left a trail of breadcrumbs so fucking vague only a genius like yours truly would be able to follow.”

He then shielded those big brown doe eyes of his from a particularly bright sunbeam with a still-bony hand, and the squinted look on his face was so fond Derek had to sink his canines into his lip to hold in the pitiful whine that threatened to climb up and out of his chest and escape him.

He stepped closer to the tree; closer to the boy who runs with wolves, who was definitely not a boy any longer.

“You make it sound as if we're in some sort of fairytale, Stiles,” Derek said as he attempted to blink Stiles's beauty from his eyes, knowing it would be a fruitless endeavour.

Finally, Stiles reached out to pull Derek down and into his lap, and Derek went like a force of nature.

He dropped the tire this time.

Stiles smelled like love when he said, “Weren't we always, Der?” right into Derek's mouth.

And Derek knew.

As Stiles leaned in and kissed him softly, and he kissed Stiles softly right back, he knew they both understood that although they had to travel far from Beacon Hills to find it, they had both—at long last—made it home.

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on ao3 HERE if you'd like to leave me a comment <3

i saw the new dob shoot and my brain remembered the hoech one and went ping! this is for @wulfnerd seeing as they came up with the wonderful Broderick as Derek's full first name in the tags of a post of mine who knows how long ago...

unedited, please be forgiving <3

[topazadine]

Maybe perhaps you will consider reading this

Uileac Korviridi has three goals: honoring his late parents, protecting his little sister Cerie, and serving his country. Fellow student Orrinir Relickim has a chip on his shoulder the size of a mountain range; his fierce demeanor hides an unrelentingly tender heart. Both boys only seek martial prowess. Destiny has other plans. Over the course of their education, Uileac and Orrinir gain instruction in something much different: the agonizing glory of young love. Explore their coming-of-age romance, twined with poetry, mythology, and war.

What people are saying:

"Amazing Characters and a Great Universe" "This is a lovely coming of age story that is set in a fantasy land that is still so relatable!" "I love the way Sidhe captures the emotions of her characters."

[ghoulishbuck]

Things I love about writing: forcing my trauma and irrational thoughts on my characters, the fact that it’s free therapy, the fact that I can tell writers or readers that I’m playing out my story in my head and not be called lazy, the community, the idea of getting published one day.

Things I dislike about writing: writing- why doesn’t everything in my head automatically transfer over. And the process of getting traditionally published.

[llyfrenfys]

Tried to make a post on Instagram about this too but it decided to glitch out on me for some reason.

But the gist of it is :

I really need your help.

I pay rent on the 20th of each month and only just managed to pay it yesterday. I'm a queer disabled transmasc artist and writer struggling to survive in this cost of living crisis. I used a food bank for the first time yesterday and will be relying upon it regularly from now on.

It's my 24th birthday next week and I've put all my prints at half price - any purchase (link in my bio) or sharing this post will help a ton.

[leave-a-message19]

It begins!!!

[madi-konrad]

My Lesbian Fantasy Romance novel A DEMON'S NAME UPON YOUR LIPS is going on sale for Valentines Day! From Feb. 7 - 14, you can grab it for $3.85, which is precisely $2.14 off the list price!

Here are the links!!

itch.io

Kobo

Apple Books, Smashwords, others

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Synopsis below the cut!

Lucia is a succubus, a demon with the power to shape the emotions and passions of mortals. Summoned often into the world of Melodia, she takes pride in upholding her demonic contracts to the best of her abilities. She likes to think she does her job well … though a string of recent failures say otherwise.

Talia, the recently elevated Duke of Fallmire, summons Lucia for a simple reason: to pose as her wife and fulfill marital obligations to the satisfaction of Parliament. All to say, just a few weeks of walking around the estate and playing nice with the neighbors before a conveniently tragic death. Quick and easy.

But immediately, Lucia smells blood in the water. Behind closed doors, the Duke plots vengeance upon those who killed her father—and the demon wants in. Revenge, after all, is much more fun … and more lucrative, to boot.

But can Lucia predict how hard she’d fall for the Duke? (Not a chance). And can the Duke find it in her vengeful heart to love?

Spice Level: lightly described nudity, fade-to-black sex.

64,000 words.

[mudaship39]

Native Intro For Social Media

Native intro for social media

BYI For old and new followers. Check out my bio, links, and pinned post. In tumblr bluesky or threads. All mudaship39. For accessibility purposes and safety reasons. Esp as a disabled and queer trans native of color

This is how i am vetting people i want or don’t want following me. To protect my social media space. Esp as a marginalized person.

Remember those symbols are in my bio and pinned post for a reason as a lgbt and disabled native of color.

Info about me and my WIPS art and projects as a as a disabled and queer/trans native of color writer artist and creator creative and native of color gamer/streamer/podcaster

Hello. My Indigenous Pasifika preferred name is No’eau Aitonui Hoata/Heiani Mareva Hoata. If you are Indigenous or Indigenous Pasifika please refer to me by that name

My Vietnamese Kinh name is Ngoc Hien/Xuan Dinh Nguyen. If you are a non native person of color please refer to me by that name

Names on the left is when I’m kane/tane or masc. Names on the right is when I am vahine/wahine or femme.

I do have unisex names for when I am maohi raerae (think mahu or fakaleiti) or native third gender.

But I am not comfortable sharing it on social media. Only use these names if you are a fellow native or indigenous pasifika. Or if you are a non native person of color. Not if you are a non native yt settler.

Names have power. I don’t want certain people referring to me by my certain names for obvious reasons.

My English/French name is Christian Henry Nguyen/Charlotte Jeanne Nguyen. If you are a non native white person you can only refer to me by this name.

For unisex or gender neutral names when I am they/them, xer/xers, or zer/zehir. Ask privately for the names.

General rule is ask for pronouns first. If I say he him. Refer to me by my names on the left. If I say she her. Refer to me by my names on the right. If I say they them xer xers zer etc. Ask privately for my unisex or third gender names.

Im a Southeast Asian Vietnamese or Kinh Indigenous, European French, East Asian Chinese Hoa, & Polynesian Tahitian Indigenous Pasifika. Poly or Polynesian Pasifika. 🇫🇷🇻🇳🇨�� 🇵🇫 I’m an Asian Native Pasifika. 🐚 🌺 🏝️ 🪝 🌋

Virgo ♍ sun, Scorpio ♏ rising , Libra ♎ moon. Level 30 adventurer September 7 🎂

Displaced state side diaspora on Chumash and Tongva occupied stolen land. Land back. All land back. Turtle Island Hawaii Samoa Guahan Papua Palestine Etc

Leftist and Progressive

Im Buddhist ☸, I’m a reconnecting Polynesian Tahitian Indigenous Pasifika polytheistic pagan, & I am a practitioner of the Kinh Indigenous spirituality of Vietnam of ancestral veneration

I’m a disabled native of color. I’m autistic, neurodivergent (add or attention deficit disorder, adhd or attention deficit hyperactive disorder, ocd or obsessive compulsive disorder), chronically ill (Crohn’s disease, epilepsy, eczema) spoonie disabled, & mentally ill (depression, anxiety disorder, bd or bipolar disorder, ptsd or post traumatic stress disorder) disabled. ♿️ ♾️ 🥄🌻

I play and stream PS3, PS4, & PS5 games. I play and stream Xbox 360, Xbox One games. I plan to play Xbox Series X games in the future. I plan to play Nintendo Switch games in the future. I plan to play PC games in the future. 🎮

I’m a QTIPOC or queer and trans Indigenous person of color. I’m nonbinary bigender or genderfluid. I’m bisexual pansexual or omnisexual. I’m polyam or polyamorous. 💛♾️ I’m maohi/raerae in the middle indigenous third gender.

Any and all pronouns. Including neopronouns and indigenous third gender pronons. He/him. She/her. They/them. Xer/xers. Zer/Zehir. Native third gender neutral oña. 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈⚧

Im a writer, creator, & artist. I’m a multidisciplinary creative. Im an author, comic book writer, screenwriter, spoken word poet, & songwriter. I write SFF or sci fi fantasy futurism in fiction. ✏️ 🎬 📖 📜 🎶 I am also a variety and small gamer, streamer, & podcaster. 🎮 🎧 🎙️

I’m a Indigenous language keeper, culture keeper, & storykeeper.

I write about racial, sex, cultural identity, sexual orientation, & gender identity in music and poetry.

I write about Black, poc, Indigenous, disabled, and or lgbt characters in disabled, bipoc, and qtipoc futurism.

Im the writer and creator of the disabled, Bipoc, and qtipoc futurism anthology project. It’s a hybrid soft and hard science fiction and magical high fantasy. It’s precontact and post land back. It’s a comic books and graphic novels hybrid series called Chronicles of War.

Basic info is the pinned post of my tumblr. More information is on a google doc on my google drive. Needs email for google doc invite link.

Im the performing artist spoken word poet of the spoken word poetry anthology book Heart of Fire Dragon, Soul of Flame Pheonix, & Sea Fairy Ocean Blood that is about being a disabled native, an Asian Native, a displaced disconnected diaspora, & QTIPOC.

The cut and censored version of it was linked in the pinned tweet on my twitter mudaship39. Before musks bs made me delete the account. Uncut and uncensored version is on a google doc on my google drive. Also needs email for google doc invite link.

Im a disabled and lgbt native of color gamer/streamer/podcaster. I am a small and variety Twitch Kick Noise and YouTube gamer streamer podcaster. 🎮 🎧 🎙

Gaming socials:

My Playstation tag is warpdriveplanet3. My Ubisoft is Warpdriveplanet. My Xbox tag is Mudaship39. My Twitch is mudaship39. My steam is Mudaship39. My discord is mudaship3. My Battlenet tag is Mudaship39 #1878. My Nintendo is Mudaship39. My YouTube is christianaitonuingocnguyen3292.

Links so others can find me on other socials:

Expanded info about my wips art and projects:

Current Wips Art and Projects:

Spoken word poetry anthology book:

Do you want to read a spoken word poetry anthology book I wrote as an Asian native Pasifika artist who’s a songwriter and spoken word poet? Its called Heart of Fire Dragon Soul of Flame Phoenix and Sea Fairy Ocean Blood.

It’s about being a disabled native (autistic, neurodivergent, chronically ill, & mentally ill disabled), a displaced disconnected state side diaspora, being an Asian Native (as a Vietnamese Kinh, French, Chinese Hoa, & Polynesian Tahitian Indigenous Pasifika person of color), & about being a QTIPOC (queer and trans third gender Indigenous person of color).

I have been working on it for a long time as a storykeeper, language keeper, and culture keeper. I have been working on it for a long time as an artist who’s a poet and songwriter. Since seventh grade of junior high.

It includes a personal foreword and personal afterword to Indigenous people specifically Polynesian, Micronesian, and Melanesian audiences.

The old cut and censored version of it was linked in my pinned tweet of my Twitter mudaship39. Before I deleted my Twitter. Cuz of musk.

The new cut and censored version will be posted to tumblr threads or bluesky. If anyone is interested in reading something like this. The uncut and uncensored version of it is on a google doc on my google drive.

Need email for google doc invite link. Let me know which version you prefer to read if you're interested in reading something like this. Let me know an email on socials with messages. Be sure to like and reblog my pinned post to boost my art to other bipoc qtipoc and or disabled mutuals.

Cover art of the Spoken Word Poetry Book: Heart of Fire Dragon Soul of Flame Phoenix and Sea Fairy Ocean Blood:

For the cut and censored version. Go to the pinned post.

Like and reblog the pinned post. This is to boost info about my wips art and project to your disabled, qtipoc, & or bipoc followers.

The cut and censored spoken word poetry book is linked in my pinned post thread.

Like reblog and quote any line of the cut and censored version of the spoken word poetry book. Quote tweet it with your thoughts.

Use any hashtags if you know any. This is so it gets out to others in the poc community and Indigenous community especially those indigenous to turtle island or Indigenous to Pasifika Oceania or Moana.

It’s also so I can find poc or Indigenous producers and publishers to actually make it into a spoken word poetry book.

For the uncut and uncensored version post comments into the google doc itself and leave a review at the end.

Let me know if you know anyone else interested in reading something like this.

Let me know if know any poc and Indigenous artists especially indigenous to turtle island or Indigenous to Pasifika Oceania or Moana who are willing to draw art for this poetry book.

Bipoc qtipoc and disabled futurism anthology project:

Im also a writer and creator who writes bipoc, disabled, and qtipoc futurism. I write magical high fantasy and science fiction books, comics, and graphic novels.

My bipoc, disabled, and qtipoc futurism anthology project called Chronicles of War. I have been working on it for a long time. Since freshman year of high school. It is a soft and hard science fiction and magical high fantasy hybrid comic book or graphic novel series.

It is soft and hard Sci fi (bio punk, solar punk, ray punk, nano punk, & cyberpunk) in the near and far future. It is also a magical high fantasy (steampunk, Tesla punk, arcane punk, and dungeon punk) in modern fantasy.

It is a hybrid fusion that is bipoc qtipoc and disabled futurism with bipoc qtipoc and disabled main and supporting characters. It is precontact and post land back.

It’s a futurism anthology or collection of sci fi fantasy stories. That is about several disabled, bipoc (or Black Indigenous and or person of color) characters, and qtipoc (or queer and trans indigenous people of color) main characters.

One is mahu third gender Kana’i Akana/Ataahua Akana an Afro Asian pasifika/Afro Latine Native. He/she/they are a demigod metahuman and alien hybrid superhuman superhero. He/she/they are in a science fiction bio punk, solar punk, ray punk, nano punk, & cyberpunk world in the near and far future.

The other is Kittsak/Kaeo Alin Pramoj an Afro Asian native third gender coded magical human with fae elvish, hobgoblin goblinoid, & giant kin ancestry. He/she/they are a multi class spellcaster, swordfighter, and gunslinger hero and adventurer. He/she/they live in a magical high fantasy steampunk, Tesla punk, arcane punk, and dungeon punk modern fantasy world.

Both of them are qtipoc disabled and bipoc. There are other disabled bipoc and or qtipoc main characters in other worlds pre contact and post land back.

Such as a Sami Indigenous and European Scandinavian coded third gender god/goddess Jotunn Loki. Living in the ancient past during the age of the gods.

Such as Lushanya Williams a two spirit third gender Afro Indigenous Chickasaw Native Freedman were lion and were leopard hybrid character. She is living in a town of Afro Indigenous Freedman and hybrid humanoid communities. In a modern and urban fantasy world.

Such as Eloxochitl Hueytletl a female Nahuatl Indigenous woman, Chiaquitinta Mallqui a male Quechua Indigenous man, Piatã Jucá a Tupi or Guarani Indigenous man, Malia Tsethlikai a Zuni Indigenous woman, & Zacal-Noh a female Maya Indigenous woman. They are Central and South American summoners of kaiju or titans based on Nahuatl, Quechua, and Maya and other Central and South Indigenous mythology. It’s a precontact story. As they use the kaiju to fight off the Spanish Empire.

Such as a female Asian Native superhero Zhou, Chen who lives in the near future and far future cyberpunk world and her alternate reality doppelgänger Zhao, Zhen a monk adventurer who lives in a silk punk martial arts world. She is a demigirl, a butch of color, and a lesbian of color. They are connected by minds, hearts, and souls after a traumatic experience as an adventurer and as a superhero. They are both Isekai into each other’s worlds.

Such as a Pirate Captain Meilani Taerea an Asian Pasifika native of color maohi raerae third gender Polynesian and Melanesian Indigenous Pasifika sea pirate living in the bronze, silver, & golden age of piracy in a modern fantasy world.

There are several bipoc qtipoc and or disabled supporting characters.

Such as Afro Asian half dragon (Chromatic European, Celestial Asian, gemstone, & metallic dragon) half human Chun Hei Kim.

Such as Afro European British and Afro South Asian Desi Hindu Amelia Himmat Mishra. Like her older siblings she is a champion and hero of the Hindu pantheon.

Such as Afro West Asian and Black African Muslim Maysa Nibala Uzun a lesbian Black femme of color. She is a power armor soldier and an ace mecha pilot.

Such as Latine Native Tsalagi Indigenous two spirit native third gender Valeria Nadia Torres Garcia or Tsistunagiska Colagnee. She is a hacker activist. She is a technopath who has power over electricity and technology.

Such as Madison Cao or Isabella Rodriguez an Asian Hispanic or Asian Latine mutant of color. She is a rookie superhero in training. She is one of the many bipoc qtipoc and disabled protégés of the Afro Asian Pasifika and Afro Latine Native superhero main character.

The main and supporting characters are in monogamous or polygamous relationships. It has Black, Native, poc, queer, trans, & disabled representation. It has Indigenous and indigenous pasifika representation too actually. If that’s something you are into.

Need email for google doc invite link also if you are also into this. Let me know an email on socials with messages.

If you want to look up excerpt blog posts of my poetry book or futurism project. Be sure to search my blog with my tags of native, indigenous, trans, disabled, and or queer: artist, writer, representation, character, and or creator. Be sure to like and reblog to boost my art wips and projects to native of color, disabled, & or lgbt mutuals.

Upcoming Wips Art and Projects:

Upcoming project once i find cast crew and a studio and network to green light it: Modern take movie about Medusa and her disabled blind lesbian love interest. With more diverse characters. Since it’s a modern take with disabled, qtipoc, and bipoc representation like my other wips and projects.

Polynesian Micronesian and Melanesian sports anime or cartoon. Each season being about different Pasifika sports. Volleyball, football, ruby, surfing, rowing, canoeing, & sailing. Each season with different main characters. Characters from across the Polynesian, Micronesian, and Melanesian diaspora. Characters from past seasons returning in cameos. Bipoc qtipoc and or disabled main and supporting Pasifika characters.

Payment Wishlist Donation Mutual Aid:

Payment for art as a disabled native of color writer artist and creator creative. How to support as a disabled native of color gamer/streamer/podcaster. How to help with mutual aid as a disabled and queer trans native of color:

If I ask for help with wishlist donation and mutual aid Refer to here

There is an ableist pay cap as a disabled writer artist and creator. There is also an ableist income inequality and ableist marriage inequality. If anyone wants to pay me for the spoken word poetry anthology book and or the bipoc qtipoc and disabled futurism project as a disabled writer artist and creator.

To help with mutual aid as a disabled native of color. Or wants to help out with items in my wishlist to support me as a disabled gamer/streamer.

Be sure to dm or pm me. There is a specific way to do so as a disabled writer artist and creator.

People in the past have paid me by sending cash or check to me to my address under my government name. Be sure to dm me or pm me for the address and name to send money under.

Wishlist as a disabled creative and as a disabled gamer/streamer/podcaster:

I play old, current, and next gen console games PlayStation 3, 4, and 5 games and Xbox 360 and Xbox one games.

Still trying to get a gaming computer to play old, current, & upcoming pc games. Still trying to get an Xbox series x for other current and next gen Xbox games. Still trying to get a Nintendo switch to play current and new Pokémon and other Nintendo games.

Games I am playing currently is in my Xbox and PlayStation account. Games I want to play but am waiting for as a disabled gamer, indigenous gamer, gamer of color, & gaymer is on my gaming wishlist on my PlayStation Nintendo and Xbox accounts.

You can also send me PlayStation store or Xbox store gift cards amount from 25 to 100 $ so I can buy the games I want to play and stream as a gamer of color, native gamer, gaymer, disabled gamer, & variety streamer.

I use an old laptop for my writing and art. Still trying to get a windows 11 laptop. As well as a new Samsung or iPad tablet for writing and creating art and projects.

Also still trying to get a microphone, camera, and headset for streaming, gaming, and podcasting.

As well as USB Drive extended storage portable hard drives. So I can play more games at a time from my game catalog. So I have more storage and memory. Without needing to reinstall games to do so. For Xbox and PlayStation.

Wishlist for these is on my separate on my throne wishlist and Amazon accounts

Wishlist Socials:

Unpublished and Not Represented as a Disabled and Queer Trans Native of color Creative:

Still looking for a agent, rep, publisher, and producer as a disabled and queer trans native of color creative

As well as a sponsor as a disabled native of color gamer streamer and podcaster. As a small and variety game streamer and podcaster shooting for partnered and affiliate on twitch youtube noise and kick. So I can get good equipment and a game catalog to game, stream, & podcast to a bigger disabled, bipoc, and qtipoc audience.

After I get artists, a publisher, and editors to help with the spoken word poetry anthology books about being an Asian native, a lgbt native, a disabled native, & displaced disconnected diaspora. Once I get the spoken word poetry book published. I plan to perform it to bipoc audiences across turtle island. As well as perform it across Moana or Pasifika to Polynesian, Micronesian, & Melanesian audiences.

After I get a producer, studio, network to fund my bipoc, qtipoc, & disabled futurism project. I plan to turn it into a book, comic, manga, web comic, light novel, & graphic novel series for bipoc qtipoc and disabled readers. A cartoon, tv show, movie series, animated series, & anime for bipoc qtipoc and disabled viewers. A table top rpg game for disabled qtipoc and bipoc players. As well as a video game series for disabled qtipoc and bipoc gamers.

Be sure to also like and reblog my bio and pinned post to boost it to disabled bipoc and or qtipoc mutuals.

[ahurumustdie]

I love her, that girl from my childhood. She held my hand until I was ready to find myself She handed me the shovel. I grieve her sometimes, i am allowed to. It still hurts to be spoken to as if I am her. She is dead, and she is not me, but I love her for making room.  Her name is one i cradle like an injured bird Until I am ready to breathe life into it again Watch it fly away for the winter It will not fly back for the summer Instead i will give her my name, Like she gave me her bones to live in. I love her, that girl from my childhood, For walking so the boy in her shoes can run.

TRANSMASCULINE || t.a.

[fluffycow1209]

I love the book the spirit bares its teeth by Andrew Joseph White so much cause it’s like hot damn bro it really is like that to exist as a women and it hits you so hard it’s criminal. Like that book is hand carved into my rib cage and it was a labor of love but that didn’t make it hurt any less

[mybrainsrottingwithmcd]

“But don’t you think its a little unrealistic that so many characters in your rewrite are queer-”

BLOCKED

[eddiestightywhities]

also on ao3 HERE

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“So, I overheard this guy in the line at the coffee shop this morning talking about name meanings—”

“Of course you did,” Eddie interjects, not unkindly.

Buck turned up with beers about a half hour ago, and has had his head in his phone for the last, what, twenty minutes? Something like that.

This is the first thing he's said since Eddie let him in and he sat his ass down on the couch in silence, looking like he needed Eddie to just allow him to.

Eddie did.

“—and I thought I'd look up ours.”

He's chewing on his bottom lip like it tastes good.

Eddie surprises himself by wondering if it does.

“I'm guessing you already know what Christopher means.”

Thinking back to when Shannon asked if he liked the name, Eddie smiles.

“Means 'Bearer of Christ', or something, right? We chose it because was Shannon's grandfather's name, though. He was Greek, and she adored him.”

Searching fingers instinctively find his pendant. It's positioned to the left, sitting right over his heart.

He misses his son like he'd miss a lung.

Buck looks up at him and smiles back, and Eddie feels glad the release he'd found dancing 'round his living room earlier isn't going to suddenly disappear down the bathroom sinkhole, along with his moustache.

“So, tell me, what does Edmundo mean, oh scholarly one?”

Buck's eyebrows try to meet his hairline.

“You don't know?”

Eddie tips his head back against the couch and scrunches his mouth up into nose.

“I have sisters, man, of course I know what it means. But that doesn't mean I don't want you to tell me.”

Buck seems somewhat happy with that.

“Well, it's a derivative of the Old English name Edmund, which is a combination of the words ēad and mund. The first part means prosperity, or riches, which is a bit of a bust, sorry man,” and he tries for a grin. It almost hits.

“But the the mund part means protector—which is pretty spot on, I reckon.”

Buck's eyelashes are kind of blonde, and kind of pretty. Eddie's thought it before, but there's just something about them in this light, in Eddie's house, on Eddie's couch.

“It's actually a real pretty name, Edmundo. Don't know if I've ever told you I think that.”

“Don't think I've ever told you your eyelashes are kind of pretty, so that makes us even, I guess.”

Eddie smiles at Buck, big and genuine, and somehow it's so easy.

Buck smiles back. Looks a little confused, or pleased, or both. Eddie's not sure, but either is okay with him.

“Um, thanks?”

Eddie bites his tongue between his teeth in a poor effort to stop his grin turning positively goofy.

Buck takes it for what it is, and bats his eyelashes at Eddie, silly, and laughs.

His whole demeanor then changes as he finally settles properly into the couch and gifts his lungs with what might be the first proper breath he's taken since he arrived.

“Anyway, Evan is the worst of the three. It means yew, like the tree? Which is—it symbolises, like, spirituality, and rebirth and shit like that. 'S not really, uh, me, you know?”

“You mean like Evan isn't really you?”

Buck bites at his red, red lip again.

Eddie decides it'd taste like cherry Chupa Chups.

“Yeah. But it's—my name.”

“Except it isn't though, it's it?” Eddie reminds him. “You're name is Buck, Buck. You decided that.”

“I don't know why he always insisted on calling me Evan. Or why I just—let him. It was kind of weird.”

Tommy.

"Called? Past tense?” Eddie flips his tongue in his mouth. Breathes a little more deliberately.

Buck looks at his phone again before he's slowly placing it down on the couch between them.

His fingers are touching the outside of Eddie's thigh, and Eddie's suddenly acutely aware that he still isn't wearing any pants.

Buck leaves his hand where it is.

“He, uh, he dumped me. Because I—”

Buck sucks in oxygen, a lot of it, and holds it in his lungs before puffing out his cheeks as he makes a show of blowing it back out again.

“I asked him to move in with me.”

Eddie was not expecting either of those statements.

"Ouch.”

Buck's fingers twitch against Eddie's skin, and Eddie feels it travel right down his leg and into his toes, which curl involuntarily into the carpet.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers, kind of knowing Buck doesn't. He will when he's ready.

“Not really.”

Eddie licks at his lips. They taste like beer, and a little like confidence.

“How about Buck?”

Buck looks at him, perplexed.

Eddie's leg is starting to cramp a bit.

He doesn't move it.

“A Buck is another name for a stag, right?” he continues. “And the stag symbolises strength and purity—

“Don't forget fertility” Buck is looking at Eddie, and it feels like something.

Eddie snorts. “'Course, don't wanna forget fertility.”

Buck smiles the first proper Buck smile of the evening, and Eddie's feels it in his chest.

“Hey, hang on, how come you know so much about stags, Edmundo?”

“You did that project with Chris about the forest.”

Buck blinks at him.

“Dude that was, like, years ago. And, as you said, I was the one learning all about the woodland creatures and different types berries and toadstools, so how do you—”

“Because you told me,” Eddie shrugs a shoulder.

Buck blinks some more.

“And you—remembered that?” he asks.

In this moment, Eddie couldn't blink, nor look away from Buck, even if somebody were to pay him.

“I remember everything you tell me.”

It's weird but it's like the air itself is crackling as they sit here, just staring at each other.

They look at each other for what feels like a long time. Or maybe it's just a single heartbeat, Eddie can't really be sure.

He watches as Buck swallows, his Adam's apple a calling card.

Eddie isn't entirely sure of why he thinks of that.

Until he is.

When Buck moves his hand, it's to slide it fully onto Eddie's thigh to just sit there, right at home.

Eddie's suddenly blinking so much he's a little worried he might be stroking.

He doesn't mean to say, “Can you smell toast?” but finds himself saying it anyway.

Buck smile is both crooked and adorable.

“You worried you're having a stroke, old man?”

“We'd have been at the same school at the same time, Buck. I'm not that much older than you.”

“You are old and I am young and everyone and the universe knows this,” Buck claims, cocky and sure of himself once more.

Eddie licks at his lips again.

“I, uh, I think I finally believe you.”

Buck now mirrors him, licking his own lips.

Cherry Chupa Chups.

“You mean about the universe?” he's asking, like he doesn't almost always knew what Eddie means.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.

Buck waits.

Just as Eddie is thinking he really should go put some on some sweats or something, Buck must get impatient because he replies, “I think it always wanted you to believe.”

Eddie doesn't have a clue what time it is, or whether he had dinner or not, or how he got so damn lucky.

“I'm gonna choose to believe, because you believe—and I believe in you, Buck” he says, somehow both sure and unsure of absolutely everything that is to come.

At long last, he finds he is totally okay with that.

“Anyways, I can hear it now,” he tells Buck, “and I'm listening.”

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unedited; pls be kind!

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edited version now found HERE on ao3 if you'd like to pop across and leave me a comment xp

[teencopandthesourwolf]

read on ao3 HERE

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He didn't mean to do it. He meant it, with every fucked-up fibre of his being he meant it, but he didn't mean to actually do it. 

Stiles had just—been so very fucking Stiles, in that stupid, irresponsible jump-head-first-into-the fray-on-everybody-else's-behalf kind of way that he has about him, and after the pack had neutralised the danger but everybody's veins still had more adrenaline than blood coursing though them, Derek felt—feels—so fucking livid, and so damn grateful, and so utterly, utterly muddled that he's grabbed Stiles by the shoulders and is pulling the kid's body into his own, hard, crashing their torsos together like a devastating highway collision, arms enveloping Stiles's shoulders as a crushed car bonnet wraps itself around a tree. 

Now—here, at a clearing in the trees on what has been Hale land for generations going back centuries, with Stiles in his space, and his nostrils, and in his fucking head—Derek is terrified. 

There's a fairly stilted, “Whoa, okay, alright, we're doing this, huh, big guy?” but then Stiles is relaxing into the hug. He sort of melts, actually, snaking long and wiry yet surprisingly strong arms around Derek's waist; so very warm, and alive, alive, alive.

“Stiles, you shouldn't have—why do you always have to—you could've fucking died!” he admonishes, although it doesn't come out half as harshly as he means and wants it to. 

Lost, Derek shoves his nose into Stiles's neck, and breathes.

Stiles lets him, because of course he does, cocking his head to the side to accommodate Derek's needs.

“Must be a day that ends in Y, huh, Der?” he answers, ever the class clown.

Derek quietly growls his annoyance and relief in equal measure, and even though he senses the rest of the pack has now gathered around them, and hating that he has an audience for this, he squeezes Stiles into him impossibly more.

Stiles wheezes comically, then jokes more, because humour is his default in any situation. “Why don't you ease up a bit there, buddy? Kinda need this work of art that I call a body in one piece if I'm ever gonna save your wolfy-ass again, oh alpha, my alpha.”

Derek shuts him up with a slick lick to the jugular. The kid shivers beautifully, but even Derek's tongue doesn't keep him quiet for long. Only Stiles Stilinski could ramble incessantly with a werewolf at his throat. 

“Okay, shit, that—ahhhhhhh, that tickles, Fido! Do I need to get the collar and chain on y—oh my fucking god!”

Derek clamps his jaws around the most exquisite throat he's ever seen, smelled, dreamed about, and growls out a warning sound that causes the betas to back off and Stiles to go weak at the knees.

Mine, he thinks loudly.

After a few moments of Derek gnawing on Stiles's throat, once they're alone in the preserve, other than the nocturnal animals and eery sound of the wind picking up from the west, Derek releases his jaws' hold on the sheriff's boy—the boy who runs with wolves; little red riding hoodie; the best human Derek's ever known—and soothes the purpling mark with a lingering press of his lips.

“Oh!” is amazingly all Stiles has got—although Derek can satisfyingly smell Stiles's arousal, his wolf now howling inside of him at the delicious scent.

“Yeah, oh,” he answers, after trying his level best to calm the feral instinct he has to pull them both down into the undergrowth and mate the boy.

He finally pulls away from Stiles, but doesn't release him from his grip entirely. Fire-red irises find big, brown doe eyes, and a smirk that Derek wants to lick right off Stiles's face and replace with a look of pure ecstasy.

“Stop doing stupid things,” he demands.

Begs. 

“Yeah, no, probably never gonna—oomph!” 

Derek kisses Stiles, kisses him like it's the end of the fucking world because he's realised that every time Stiles puts his own life in danger, it feels like it might be.

Stiles doesn't hesitate this time, though. He kisses Derek right back like he gets it.

Now found, Derek takes, and he takes, and he takes.

Stiles kisses like nobody else in existence, Derek is sure of it; he is earth and wind, fire and water.

Fucking elemental. 

When he presumably needs to breathe, Stiles tears his lips away from Derek's—swollen and blood-red—and Derek can't help the whine that escapes his. Their foreheads bump as they both pant, attempting to settle as they shake with post-fight waning nerves and a feverish desire.

Stiles says, “How ‘bout if you keep doing that, I'll get myself a bigger bat?”

Derek both hates and loves the smile that spreads across his face like a rash, entirely of its own volition. 

“How about next time, you just wait for me?” 

“Deal,” Stiles grins and kisses Derek again, and Derek hopes it's the kind of deal that's forever.

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for @greyhavenisback—love yew, love <3 (unedited, soz!)

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now edited and on ao3 HERE

[theblackbuffy]

happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈

supporting fellow queer folks & allies supporting us should be the mode all year. please keep that in mind all the time. & with that being said, i'm a struggling black queer creative (journalist/writer/artist) that quite frankly needs a win.

i have a shop where folks can purchase horror, jjba etc postcards and such. i'm also open to postcard commissions etc.

i have a ko-fi page where i post various pieces & folks can tip me there!

i'm always open for fanfic commissions on my side blog 🔪

i have more ways folks can lend me support, but those are most of the main ways. other than simply sending me a tip via paypal.

[mxmorbidmidnight]

⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹

𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝑆𝐻𝐴𝑃𝐸𝑆𝐻𝐼𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅

ᚠ ᚢ ᚦ ᚱ ᚲ ᚷ ᚹ ᚺ ᚾ ᛁ ᛃ ᛇ ᛈ ᛉ ᛋ ᛗ ᛏ ᛜ ᛚ

I greet thee dear, welcome to my blog. I am The Shapeshifter, The Wizard Goose, Plague upon John of England *menacing honking*. I am a Witch and a feral beast. I spend these days in which I suspend casting runes, spitting tricksome prophecies and harassing the English monarchy. How I have come here I know not, but joyous I am to converse with thee. I hope thou may find a thing of sorts here, whether it be comfort, whimsy, disturbance or perhaps the cup of dice.

𓋹

𓋹

I am called many names. Shapeshifter. Versipellis, Gerstaltwandler, ilcruthach, Vormveranderaar. All words meaning Shapeshifter. As well as Werewolverine, Lovecat, Dracaena, She-wolf and Jackalope Hare. These names I did snatch into my claws while doing historical, mythological, folkloric and etymological research. If you wish to know the etymology and history of these names look upon this post

🕸️What art thou to call me? however you please. Choose one in the previous list or assign me thine own title. As long as it is done with respect I shalt answer. To be given a name is a great honour. 🕸️

⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹⛧𓋹⛧⛧𓋹

I fall under the definition of nonhuman, I take many forms. Most notably a goose. Much of the posting thou may see upon here is I, The Mighty Goose, Plague upon John of England violently honking or screeching in Shakespearean. I often find myself taking forms such as that of a siren, Dracaena, Wolverine, Harpy, Jaguar, Bin Chicken, Hyena and jackrabbit. The forms in which I might take are boundless as the ways of water across this sphere. For I am whatever I please.

ᛐᛜᚢᚦ

☾ I bear connection to mythological and folkloric shapeshifters, as to be they are ballads of myself or perhaps a close friend ☽

My gender is fluid. The pronouns I do favour art he/she/it, preferably alternating between the three as I cannot be confined by one singular. I am polyamorous and queer. OOooOooOh hOnK hOnK

As of now I am writing The Shapeshifter. A ballad describing my identity. Here you may find what of it has been released. For the past four years I have been crafting a novel series. It is influenced by folklore and mythology, containing queer, nonhuman and disabled characters.

𝑃𝑂𝐸𝑇𝑅𝑌 𝑆𝐴𝑀𝑃𝐿𝐸𝑆

The Shapeshifter's lament (part of the Shapeshifter)

The Shapeshifter

Vivamus Moriendium Est

Fight Dog

The Verdict

𝑀𝑌 𝑁𝑂𝑉𝐸𝐿

Lore

Character intro

I am disabled and neurodiverse. I have FND, tourettes and POTs and I am a cane user (in need of a wheelchair but unable to access). I have OCD, ADHD, sensory processing and likely autism. I will often post about disability advocacy on this blog. I am apart of the goth subculture (my favourite bands art The Cure, Inkubus Sukkubus, Sisters of mercy, Bauhaus, Scary Bitches, Coctaeu twins). I am interested in classical literature, History, Folklore, Paganism, vulture culture, Etymology, Shakespeare and gothic horror. I will on occasion post images of my goth makeup upon this platform. I art a minor, be freaky and thou shalt be CURSED I say! grime of a chicken hearted mutt upon thee for thou art liver bellied and foul as a cattle foot in a yew stump.

ReQUESTS (honk)

The Challenge of the goose, tis a challenge where I the tricksome goose shalt grant thee a riddle. Simply request for one in mine ask box or say "I call upon the challenge of the goose". I will trial thee with a riddle I have written, if thou does succeed I shalt grant thee an honorary goose title.

In addition if thou art curious about my writing, identity as a shapeshifter or wish to ask me any questions, do so. Tis no reason for shame, inquiry and curiosity about what we do not understand is a wonderful thing.

Boundaries:

I AM A MINOR!!!! I will not private message with adults, adults can interact with my blog but private messaging is off the table. DNI: perverts and bigots. I don’t mind images of dead animals as long as it isn’t a dead goose. Please don’t send me pictures of dead, injured or cooked geese.

Tags:

#the shapeshifter's riddles : my poems

#morbid lore : to do with my ongoing ye olde goose feud with the entirety of Britland.

#challenge of the goose: answering riddle requests

#morbid memes: memes I have made myself (as seen below, mostly to do with geese)

#morbid's gaggle : interactions with moots

#morbid midnight : I tend to tag all my posts under this tag.

#morbid Reblogs

And now I must return to unionising the cows under lesbianism against John of England. Upon thee I wish plentiful fruit, soft sun upon thine cheek, much bounty and many adventures to seek. May the skin of your palms be coarse to the Strike of a bramble. So says The Shapeshifter