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strangererotica · 3 months ago

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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader | SMUT | CW: reader is married to an abusive husband | reader uses drugs/alcohol to cope with her abusive marriage | murder/killing mentioned

This story is extremely explicit and deliciously fever dream-ish imo. Hope you enjoy it, my fellow clown fuckers ❤️

What the ever loving fuck is wrong with me?

That’s what you were thinking as your common sense peeked out briefly from the fog of alcohol and weed in your system…a moment of sobriety just long enough to make you question what motivation you could have for the decisions you were now making.

He smelled. Like dried blood and sex, the kind of sex that hurts you, but doesn’t stop you from wanting more. Maybe it would have been enough to stop you, under any other (sober) circumstances. But as it was, you were already sitting in this strange man’s lap, in the middle of an empty mall after closing. And what made the situation even more surreal? The fact that he was dressed in a goddamn Santa suit and wearing gaudy black and white clown makeup all over his face.

Yeah, you really needed to stop sneaking into the mall bathroom and getting fucked up. Swiping a pack of edibles and two travel-sized bottles of cinnamon spice vodka from the gas station had been a bad idea to begin with. Using the privacy of the bathroom to get wasted and scroll through your phone for two hours would have been considered strange behavior by most people. But most people (in fact, no one) knew the reason why you avoided home like the plague.

Your husband was abusive, in every way possible. He controlled every aspect of your life, to the point that sometimes, you worried he could even read your thoughts. Where you went, who you spoke to, your finances, your diet, your sex life; everything about you belonged to him. It was suffocating. And while your habit of stealing from the gas station and hiding in the mall bathroom was an unhealthy coping mechanism, you were coping. Even if eventually it bit you in the ass, like tonight. When you got a little too high, a little too drunk, to notice the time, or the fact that the mall outside the bathroom stall you were locked in had grown quiet…

The mall was closed. Fucking closed, with you locked inside it. You’d staggered out of the bathroom like a fucking zombie in what looked to be a post apocalyptic scene. The mall was empty, devoid of life. Everything was eerily silent, apart from your footsteps shuffling across the tile floor as you took in your empty surroundings. The mall was dimly-lit, the only light source coming from high above, moonlight streaming in through the big panel windows on the mall ceiling.

You found one of the exits, and tried the door. It was locked, or maybe you were too high/drunk to figure a way out? It didn’t matter because regardless, you weren’t going anywhere for awhile. Either you’d sober up and figure out how to get out, or you’d be stuck waiting till security came by in the morning and let you out. A pleasant thought tickled at the back of your mind: your husband had no idea where you were. It felt good to be so far beyond his radar that his ability to oversee your every move was completely fucked. What did scare you, however, was the thought of confronting him in the morning. How would he react to you staying out all night? Obviously it wouldn’t go over well, and just imagining what your husband’s punishment might involve had your stomach twisting.

So instead of ruining your high by worrying about the inevitable, you decided to finish the last of your vodka, yelling “fuck it!” into the empty void around you. Your voice echoed back at you off the walls of the empty mall. It was creepy, and a little exciting, being unsupervised and alone with this kind of freedom. The excitement you felt only heightened when you noticed him. Your mouth twisted into a grin of disbelief, because how fucking high WERE you that you were literally seeing Santa Claus in front of you right now?? You took a step towards him, still unsure if he was even real.

He was sitting in an ornate wooden chair framed by two massive Christmas trees. The strands of lights decorating them weren’t on, just like all the other lights inside the mall. Above him, a sign written in ridiculously large print read “SANTA,” as if the scene itself would have implied anything other than the jolly old elf’s presence. You forced your gaze to focus on the man/hallucination in front of you, the smile on his face as big as yours. And he was a…clown, too? You laughed out loud, the absurdity of it all becoming too much. Your laughter was tinny and soft, like the sound of jingle bells, and it seemed only fitting considering you were standing mere feet away from the man, the myth, the legend himself: Santa Claus.

He patted his lap, encouraging you over. The fact that he apparently didn’t speak made the vodka-soaked dreamworld you were currently wandering feel even more like a dream. As you approached ‘Santa Clown,’ the possibility of him being a figment of your imagination became less believable. When he reached for your arm and tugged you onto his lap, you were certain. He was absolutely real.

You gasped, a surprised giggle spilling from your lips. The clown seemed to enjoy your amusement, bouncing you on his knee just to hear the string of excited giggles that tumbled out of you. He was playing with you, and you were loving it. His hair, or the wig he wore, spilled over his shoulders in off-white waves, flecked by bits of red. It took you a few seconds to register that the red bits were actually dried blood, and that the same blood was caked onto the beard that hung loosely underneath Santa Clown’s chin.

Should you have been alarmed? Probably. But instead of sensing danger coming from the clown, you felt oddly protected, safe. Whoever that blood belonged to, whoever he may have hurt, the clown didn’t seem in any hurry to hurt YOU. In fact, based on the stiffening pulse of his cock under your ass, it seemed like the clown was enjoying your company very much.

To test your theory, you decided to tease him a little and see where it led. Shifting intentionally on his lap, you reached to smooth the blood-crusted strands of hair back from Santa Clown’s face, revealing his sharp cheekbones and smooth, painted-white skin. He was oddly handsome, attractive in a dark kind of way. The way villains are always more appealing than heroes, or more philosophically, how Eve must have felt when she was seduced by the serpent’s persuasive tongue. There was something forbidden about the clown, something instinctively, inherently wrong about wanting him. And yet, that wrongness was precisely part of the reason you did want him.

His smile faded slowly to an expression you couldn’t name, his eyes going dark. Had your flirting upset him? A chill ran through you as even the air around you both seemed to go colder. A sudden sizzle of electricity made you flinch, and you watched as around you, the lights on the Christmas trees were illuminated. You smiled, a pleased chuckle of surprise leaving your lips, and the clown smiled with you. He seemed to enjoy making you feel good; and perhaps the dark supernatural forces that followed him came in handy in times like these, when manipulating electricity could be used to impress a pretty girl?

The rest of the mall remained in darkness, with only the Christmas lights illuminating the festive scene. “It’s so pretty,” you said, and you realized it was the first time you’d actually spoken to the clown. He nodded, feigning a kind of bashful grin, and extended his index finger toward you, tapping lightly against your breasts. Your eyebrows lifted at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since anyone had called you ‘pretty,’ and somehow, even in the absence of words, the clown had said everything right.

“Me?” you asked coquettishly, feeling emboldened by the vodka thundering through your system. “You think I’m pretty?”

The clown nodded vigorously, his big, toothy smile returning. “Well y’know what?” you asked through a giggle. “I think you’re pretty handsome, Santa.”

The clown’s mouth made the shape of a surprised ‘O,’ and he pointed to himself, his lips forming the word ‘me???’

“Yeah,” you replied. “And, as a matter of fact-.” You leaned in so your lips were at the clown’s ear, the coppery scent of blood stronger by his face. “-I’m ready to tell you what I want for Christmas…”

You didn’t expect to feel his hand on your chin, turning your head to face him. His expression had shifted back to the one you’d been unable to read earlier, the look you’d mistaken for him being upset. Now, as his thumb tugged your bottom lip downward and his dark eyes studied the shape of your mouth, you realized his expression was one of lust.

You sucked in a breath, extending your tongue to meet his thumb. The metallic tang of old blood met your tastebuds, melting over your tongue as the dried blood under the clown’s thumbnail was wetted by your spit. You didn’t care whose blood it was, because in this strange new reality, nothing beyond this space in the empty mall mattered. His eyes followed his thumb as it pressed deeper, your lips closing around its base, sucking lightly. You shifted again on the clown’s lap; it was so bumpy now that he was fully hard, his erection making it difficult to sit still.

His gaze was fixed on your lips, the space his thumb had disappeared between. You backed your head away slowly, letting his thumb slide out of your mouth with a wet pop. Your hands closed over his thighs to balance yourself as you slipped off his lap, locking your eyes with his as you settled between his boots on the ground. Resting your head against his right thigh, the heady smell of piss and sweat filled your senses. His hand was on your head, fingers laced through your hair and guiding you, inward. Closer. Closer to the space he wanted your mouth, where he needed it to be.

You wet your lips with your tongue and watched as the clown worked the large buckle of his belt undone. He tugged the waist of his pants lower, just enough for his cock to spring free, smacking against his stomach, pre cum clinging to the white fur trim of his jacket. Your mouth fell open at the sight of his member, its impressive length only half as striking as its girth. He closed his gloved hand around himself, pumping up and down his shaft in a few slow, unhurried strokes. The look in his eyes was almost wicked; he knew the thought of him filling your throat intimidated you, and he liked that fear.

With his other hand locked in your hair, the clown pulled your head closer, till your mouth was poised at his tip. He pressed the fat bulb to your lips, admiring the way they parted obediently for him. Urging his hips forward, the clown pushed his cock inside your mouth. The salty taste of his skin on your tongue was unpleasant at first, but you quickly forgot about any discomfort once he’d established a rhythm back and forth inside you. The head of his cock pushed the salty taste to the back of your throat, and you swallowed it down. From there, the only challenge you faced was opening your throat enough to take him. The clown’s hand on your head continued to guide it, pumping your mouth over him like a sleeve. You needed to breathe, to swallow the air his cock was denying you. Just when you thought you might be sick, the clown removed himself from your throat, allowing you the chance to breathe, a long line of saliva trailing from your bottom lip to the head of his cock. He grinned down at you approvingly, patting your head as if to say ‘good girl,’ before lifting you once again by the hair, and shoving himself back between your lips.

He leaned forward and closed his other hand around your throat, feeling his cock fucking you from the inside out. Your cunt was dripping, a pearly string of your wetness slicking the ground between your knees. You squeezed your thighs together as the clown used your throat, desperate for some kind of stimulation. He could sense your desperation, and offered you his boot as a relief, wedging it between your legs to give you something to grind on. You humped it gratefully, rocking your swollen cunt against the clown’s shoe. He stilled inside your throat, buried deep, his fingers tightening in your hair to the point your scalp was stinging. A gush of semen washed down your throat, followed by another. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat constricting as the clown’s cum filled it to capacity. You gagged and choked, and he pulled you off his cock just as vomit began creeping its way up the back of your throat. His wild eyes and wide grin beamed down at you, his chest rising and falling quickly in the aftermath of his climax. Semen you hadn’t been able to swallow dripped down your chin in a thick line. When you attempted to wipe it away, the clown stopped you with a swat of his hand against yours. He wanted to see the results of his work in and on you, his work of Art.

He jerked his boot where it was wedged between your thighs, bouncing you on top of it. You whimpered at the sensation, your neglected little cunt aching and engorged. You needed to come, so badly that it hurt. The clown watched as you stayed knelt at his feet, straddling his boot and humping it like a bitch in heat, grunting and panting, no more than an animal. Your orgasm shook you to your core, your muscles gripping and sucking around nothing, clit throbbing against the clown’s boot as you rubbed yourself into it, moaning and spitting a string of obscenities into his pants leg, where your face was buried.

After your body ceased shaking, you looked up to see the clown still grinning down at you. He offered his hands for you to take hold of, and helped you back into his lap. An hour passed, and then another. You couldn’t say for certain, but you think you must have fallen asleep in the clown’s arms for an hour or so, because at some point, you noticed that the stars were beginning to fade in the sky. Morning was coming, and that meant going home. To your husband. To your abuser.

Fear roiled in your stomach, along with the alcohol and cum filling it. You despised this feeling of dread, of being scared by a shit stain of a human being like your husband. If only you could live free of his tyranny, you imagined. How much better would the world be without the influence of such a toxic man as your husband…?

…And then, the idea formed in your mind. You tilted your head to the clown’s face. Studying the blood on his hair and skin once again, you decided to ask a favor of him. “Santa,” you began, because you didn’t know what else to call him. “You’ve killed people before…haven’t you?”

The clown feigned an apologetic expression and raised his hands as if to say “guilty.”

You nodded your head, a hopeful smile on your lips. And then, you asked him: “How would you like to kill my husband?” 🔪🩸🤍

PART TWO

@arts-bloody-gloves

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hurgablurg · 5 months ago

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Minecraft 2d animated (with rotoscoped / painted-over in-game backgrounds) movie plot where it doesnt feel the need to do the player's batman origin and instead starts in media res with

A trio of piglin children, let's call them lapis, lavender, and daisy (ego, id, superego / whatever trio trope you want to use), playing around an inactive, old portal frame in the nether, running home only to find their settlement being destroyed by territorial ghasts, their families nowhere to be seen - these are our focus characters, and the audience surrogates. A ghast catches sight of them and gives chase, firebombing the area behind until they run into the portal frame again and a fireball activates it - with no other choice, they flee through it (with minor hijinks as they try to run through it at first and only realize on accident that they have to stand in it) just as another fireball deactivates it.

They arrive on the overworld, in an old player base, and wander and wonder at their new surroundings, before one of them collapses and starts coughing and spasming, as the undead plague takes hold of all three. They are about to turn until they are doused with a splash potion of weakness and chunks of holy golden apple, inoculating them for the time being.

They awaken in the modest house of an aged and experienced Steve, dark skinned and stoic, but with a kind twinkle in their eye, like Santa claus.

The language barrier and Steve's muteness prevents any complex explanations, but the kids get through that they had a bad experience and need help.

There can be a comedy bit where Steve sweats over only having porkchops on hand and tries to make due with some noncontroversial mushroom stew, until the kids happily dig into the "hoglin meat" as well.

Steve plunges into the nether to clear a path for the kids to go home, not realizing they are telling them that their home is gone, until Steve sees it for themself. Unwilling to condemn the kids to a zombie apocalypse in the overworld, Steve elects to lead them across the land to other player's bases in hopes of finding a nether portal that leads right to a settlement or bastion, before their immunity wears off. Adventurous hijinks ensue as they marvel and panic at the beauty and dangers of this world!

Some bits and story beats could be:

Alex (or one of the other, or even all, of the default skins) is one of the players encountered, kitted with elytra and netherite, building a massive megastructure, contrary to Steve's humble lifestyle. Alex does some cool air tricks as they land, but Steve is unimpressed, even cocking their hip and raising an eyebrow.

Steve and another player seem to be communicating, eyes locked together, with Lavender theorizing that they have some kind of telepathy, until it briefly but jarringly switches to gameplay where the players are allcaps "screaming" at each other in text chat.

The kids are attacked and one seems to be on the precipice of death, or even infection, until one of the players slaps a Totem of Undying into their hands and they are saved in the nick of time, deposited a few blocks away.

Lapis is in awe of the gold ore littering a badlands canyon while camped and tries to be brave to get some, accidentally falling, as Steve jumps down after them, catches them, and buckets just at the bottom, revealing an expertise and practice with the game belied by their wooden cube house, grass block floor, and disorganized chests.

They see the ruins and zombie hordes and even the Skulk, spawned by whoever the Ancients were, and the dangers of going too far. Maybe they are even pursued by a zealous Warden who breaches the surface to "correct" these "anomalies", as an additional "big bad".

It ends up being, of course, that the portals all lead to inhospitable places, like soul sand barrens, nether fortresses, and somehow even above the bedrock ceiling. When they actually DO find a settlement, it's a bastion, and while the other piglins are ambivalent or cautious, the Brutes are quite dogmatic, refusing and attacking the kids on the basis that they are forest-dwelling foreigners who reek of the overworld. Luckily for them, they have a new found-family of players who've been quite taken with them over their adventures who arrive to help, and elect to build a sanctuary just on the other side of the portal for them to live in, and which they can visit freely. Overtime, other refugees make their way, and an amicable piglin village starts up (perhaps even hinting at a theoretical future piglin rework, hmm), with Steve raising the kids personally, and with proper anti-zombie safety precautions, showing them how to Build, in Steve's sustainable, low-impact style. A Happy ending!

#minecraft #minecraft movie #piglin #piglins

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talaok · 2 years ago

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Hey, love! How are you? I hope you’re doing great 💕

Can i request a joel x fem!reader?

So, a few days ago I found a strand of white hair on my head and I freaked out cause I’m only twenty and wtf ?? And soo I had this idea of reader, Joel and Ellie being settled in Jackson, reader’s brushing her hair and she sees the white hair and screams and joel and ellie go to her thinking that something bad happened… joel keeps teasing reader about it but eventually comforts her because she’s a little insecure about it? Oh, and maybe age gap?

I also wanted to thank you again for your beautiful stories, they make my day so much better, you have no idea! Sending you a lot of love !!!

❤️‍🩹🫶🏼

Babe why are you always so nice you make me want to cry, also this is literally something I'm so insecure about bc I have a bunch of white hair and I don't get why so thank you for requesting this.

(HUGE sorry for the wait I just really have to study)

A scream echoed through your house in Jackson, and as time stilled, and both their hearts jump-started, they came running towards your voice.

"What happened?"

Joel's eyes were clouded with fear just as the fingers gripping his gun trembled with worry.

"are you ok?"

Ellie's voice was thin, quiet, nothing you'd ever heard before.

You looked at them, the hairbrush still in your hand, the daunting discovery lingering between your fingers.

"I have a white hair" you spoke, your tone somehow more horrified than both of theirs.

"what?"

"look" you urged, bringing your hair more in the light, your face twisting in an appalled grimace.

"sweetheart..." Joel sighed, shaking his head and putting away his gun "I thought something bad happened" he frowned, a glimpse of a smile ghosting his lips.

"you scared me to death y/n" Ellie protested too now.

"I'm sorry" you murmured, "but something bad did happen!"

They looked at each other, their eyes wide with amusement, and they could not help but burst out laughing.

"why are you laughing? This is not something to laugh about!"

"I'm-I'm sorry it's just..." Ellie spoke between giggles "It's just a white hair y/n, it's nothing"

"Nothing? This is everything! If I get one that means I'll get more"

Again, their laughs bounced across the bathroom tiles.

there you were, despairing for a different colored hair in a world where zombies actually existed.

You shot them a look "I hate you, go away"

"y/n-" Ellie tried

"no, just leave me alone while I try to find a way to hide this"

They glanced at each other, a small - I'll handle this- traveling from Joel to Ellie was all that was needed before the girl went back to her room.

You went to stand up

"careful there, I'm not sure you're in the right shape to stand up on your own at your age" Joel joked.

"That's not funny," you scowled, making Joel finally understand how serious you were about this.

"baby..." he murmured, stepping closer to you "it's not a big deal"

"but it is" you replied, desperate

"no, it's not baby" he continued, wrapping his arms around your back "It's just a white hair." he persisted "You're still the most gorgeous woman on earth"

"that's not the point" You shook your head

"no, then what is it?" he spoke gently, his thumb caressing your side

You hesitated "I-I don't know"

Joel smiled, trying to reassure you "Baby if you think that's bad, look at me" he chuckled "I look like Santa Claus"

"you don't" you bit down a smile "and besides, it's different, you're..."

"you can say it, sweetheart, I'm old"

"you're not old"

"no, then what am I?"

"you're just... older than me"

"That's a nice way of putting it"

You shook your head, smiling as you soaked in the feeling of his embrace.

He felt like a warm blanket after a cold winter day.

He stroked your cheek "C'mon now pretty girl, you're an amazing woman, you're smart, beautiful, funny, kind, good, and beautiful, you don't need to worry about a little white hair"

Your lips turned into that little happy pout Joel adored

"You said beautiful twice"

"Yeah, I know I did"

You hit his chest playfully, your hand lingering on his body "I hate you"

"why?"

"'cause you always make me feel better, I'd like to be mad or sad for more than two minutes once in a while, y'know?"

"I'm sorry" he smirked, his thumb tracing your jawline "I'll do better next time"

"you better" you joked, making him smile.

"Are you feeling ok now?"

"mh-mh" you gave a shy nod

"you want me to kiss it better?"

"you can't kiss a white hair better"

"now" he said "there's no harm in trying, sweetheart"

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wintaerbaer · 1 year ago

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wintaerbaer masterlist

banner credit: @itaeewon

Ⓐ - angst Ⓕ - fluff Ⓢ - smut

updated: feb. 23, 2024

in between Ⓐ 1.8k (drabble) - established relationship au - sfw

It's nights like this that are embedded into your memory—your face fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on top of your head, your arms and legs thoroughly tangled together.

icebreaker Ⓕ 1.3k (drabble) - enemies to ??? - sfw

When you get stuck in a walk-in freezer with your work nemesis, he has a rather...unconventional idea to ensure the two of you get through it without being frostbitten.

so eden sank to grief Ⓐ 1.2k (drabble) - established relationship au - sfw

He just wants to make you happy. It seems to be the one thing he can no longer give.

things we don't say Ⓐ Ⓕ Ⓢ 54.5k+ (series) - best friends to lovers au - nsfw (minors dni)

Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

kissing santa claus Ⓕ 1.6k (drabble) - established relationship au - sfw

Taehyung may think you're a little bit of a Christmas Grinch, but maybe helping him start some Christmas Eve traditions will convince you of its magic.

dawning Ⓐ Ⓕ 2.2k (oneshot) - established relationship au - sfw

He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new.

blue in the face Ⓢ wc tbd (drabble) - friends to lovers au - nsfw (minors dni) for the into the blue challenge

coming soon!

seven storms Ⓐ Ⓕ Ⓢ 9.0k (oneshot) - forbidden love au - nsfw (minors dni)

As a young woman of considerable wealth, it has always been your father's expectation that you would marry one of the local aristocrats once you came of age. Your family's stable hand? Certainly not an option.

ringing in the year Ⓕ 2.2k (drabble) - established relationship au - sfw

Your six-year relationship with Jungkook certainly hasn't been devoid of the occasional mishap. But when Seokjin accidentally winds up with a gift meant for you, Jungkook's proposal may wind up being the biggest blunder of all.

bottle up old love Ⓐ Ⓕ Ⓢ 4.6k (oneshot) - exes to lovers au - nsfw (minors dni)

Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

back to you Ⓐ Ⓕ Ⓢ wc tbd (oneshot) - zombie apocalypse au, roommates/friends to lovers au - nsfw (minors dni)

coming soon!

#masterlist #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts smut

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imjustavenuxwithaboomerang · 1 month ago

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lore and tidbits from the re-animated series:

an alien's glove can only work when worn on the left hand

there's a debate class at seabrook high and bree is generally feared when it comes to the debates

zed and addison watch a show called dragon's landing together

christmas/x-mas is called z-mas

seabrook has their own version of dancing with the stars called dancing with the shrimps

addison is only a level-one alien student

everyone at seabrook high ships wyliza and has been secretly rooting for them to get back together

there's a zombies-ified version of jingle bells

zed thinks that nachos are the best food (so they're most likely his favorite food cause they've been mentioned A LOT)

the werewolves refer to december as meat-cember

pacey (or bucky's lackey) is seabrook high's hall monitor and he takes it very seriously because it's the only thing he has for himself

zed's contact picture in addison's phone is a picture of him making a heart with his fingers

there's an alien nutrition cube-only vending machine in the cafeteria

bartleby has been employee-of-the-month at the curse shop 10 times

zed is usually the planner of events such as parties and dances

coach runs seabrook high's information technology (IT) department but only because he agreed during his 'year of saying "yes"'

principal lee is a cat lady

bree's grammykins has a recipe for punch

instead of santa claus, seabrook has santler claws

^and instead of giving coal to bad kids, he slashes the bad children's gifts and rather than children leaving out milk and cookies, they leave out hot sauce

^speaking of hot sauce, there's a brand by the name of henry heathead's habanero hemorrhage

pre-packaged squirrel is a meal option for werewolves

zoey's favourite holiday is z-mas

willa doesn't like to wave to people and finds it unnecessary

dae can play the tambourine

willa and wynter used to try to catch santler claws as kids

part 1 part 2

#did we already know the tambourine thing???? girl idk #i might've missed some things here and there #the dancing with shrimps is literally only such a gaggery to me because TWO zombies cast members have completed (AND WERE ROBBED) on dwts..#<- obviously when this show was originally created dwts 33 didn't happen yet but still #wait a minute didn't dae just move to seabrook that semester?? how did bartleby get employee of the month for months he wasn't in town??? h #also the alien glove thing is supported by the movie (which is probably just because the cast is mainly right-handed sort of like watches)#<- yes i went and checked #disney zombies #zombies #zombies the re animated series #zombies: the re animated series #zombies re animated #zed necrodopolis #addison wells #willa lykensen #dae zombies #coach zombies #bree zombies #principal lee #zoey necrodopolis #bartleby zombies #wynter barkowitz #pacey zombies #eliza zambi #wyatt lykensen #wyliza #zeddison #EDIT: took off the “the finale” part because...i don't really know what's up with the future of this show anymore

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was-andi-rigby · 4 months ago

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Alright, y'all. Poll time. Synopses of your choices are under the cut, if you want them. I can't decide between my upcoming original stories (I'm gonna write them all eventually), so I'm inviting y'all to choose for me.

On a related note, if I hit 15 followers before this poll expires, I'll do a follower lottery and the lottery winner will get to name a character in the winning story! (More details on that also under the cut.)

Synopses

Adventures in the Gaywild, a queer contemporary portal fantasy with an ensemble cast of queer & disabled adults just trying to live their lives, but who have said lives interrupted regularly by their hometown’s proximity to the fey realm. Beronsgate is a cute little coastal town with a major problem: sometimes the door you open doesn’t lead where you wanted it to. Monster-of-the-week episodic sitcom installments with an overarching denial-of-destiny arc. (If this wins, the "winning story" will be the first installment of the series.)

The Death of Santa, a sapphic Christmas adventure with a transgender Mrs. Claus who’s unhappy in her role as the token female holiday persona, and escapes the North Pole only to find herself in a strange land of eternal winter. Kristina takes shelter in a fortress built over a gate, and finds deadly traps, warped Christmas monsters, and the woman she married 900 years ago. Transgender themes, trans joy/power, and mistaken identity feature heavily in this high-action novelette that tries not to take itself or Christmas too seriously.

Liberty, a gay cowboy friends-to-lovers between a cattle baron’s heir and a gifted horse trainer. Aaron and James have kept their romance a secret for almost a year. When Aaron’s mother makes a big stink about him turning down yet another farm princess, he’s got a tough choice to make: follow the herd, or follow his heart. Forget coming-of-age—let’s talk coming-out, love and support from unexpected avenues, and being true to yourself.

Double Tide, a seaside low fantasy adventure about a dockworker and the inquisitive merrow they met in the local tidepools, who become fast friends despite language barriers and local taboo. When a new fishing technique threatens the local merrow population, they discover whether a lone dockworker and a social pariah can really make a difference. Try this gender-agnostic, hopeful Romeo and Juliet (without the tragedy) that explores the meaning of love and friendship.

The Siege of Helen, an exploration of neurodivergence and (mis)communication in a romantic relationship. Helen’s new pregnancy has made her mood a thousand times more volatile, and her husband is spending more and more time at the office. Hephaestus, already overstimulated and dysregulated from trying to provide for his now-growing family, realizes in the nick of time that there’s only one way not to lose the woman he loves: he’s going to have to talk to her. About his feelings. Short story companion to my novel-in-progress, By Any Other Name, following Ambrose’s parents as they try desperately to keep their marriage from falling to pieces.

The Library, a heartwarming zombie survivor tale about a weary now-single dad and his last remaining foster teen who fight to preserve the ruins of a great library against those who would destroy it for their own short-term survival. Take refuge in the Charles J. LaRose Memorial Library, and let Kaylen tell you about the time they fought off zombies and men with guns to make a safe place for travelers like you to rest and recuperate in the desolate hellscape of the zombie apocalypse.

Lottery Info

Lottery will happen if the total follower count (less myself) on this blog reaches 15 before the poll in this post expires. I'll choose via random selection & contact the winner via Tumblr to confirm you want to participate. If you don't, or I can't contact you via Tumblr because your messages are closed, or if I don't get a response to my initial message within ~24 hours, then I'll choose a different winner by the same process. And so on until someone bites.

Lottery winner will receive a short bio of the relevant aspects of their character (appearance, mannerisms, and plot role), and the name they choose will be used for the described character. I will not accept names that are offensive or that would be considered offensive in the context of the story or character, and I retain the right to ask the winner for a different name if the chosen name is, for some reason, really really not going to work in the context of the story.

#polls #my work #original fiction #short stories #queer fiction #no there is not a vanilla extract option #sorry friends

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