The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane - A Pink Necromancer Short Fiction Story 

Series Trigger Warnings:

 * Polyamorous married gay couple and their live-in lover

 * Intersex main character, who lives as a trans man

 * Furry Yaoi 

 * Characters often drink, swear, use drugs, and smoke hookahs.

 * Transman Mpreg

Not all things appear in all stories. 

Series Heat Level:

 * Short Stories: Sweet, Fluffy, Lime, or Limon

 * Novellas: Lime, Limon, Orange

 * Novels: Orange, Lemon

What is the series about?

It's three god-level, planet destroying, alien invader Space Elf, Space Faerie, Space Demon megalomaniac super villain bumbling wizards, and their ship's crew (The UnSeelie Court) with big global domination plans, whom have invaded 40th century Earth, settled in a lighthouse in Maine, started a zombie apocalypse, are hellbent on destroying all Humans and taking over the planet, but are never getting anything done because they are too busy throwing temper tantrums, having hissy fits, and flinging food, sea slugs, insults, and sexual tension at each other, to ever get around to destroying the planet.

It's slice-of-life survival horror in a post-apocalyptic necromantic dictatorship, told through dysfunctional domestic intimacy between soul-stealing villains who rule the world. Welcome to the spiralling madness of Quaraun’s eldritch, sensory-heavy, character-driven, neurotic, dysfunctional, intimate, sugar-dusted Fae-punk world. This is the hostile, dystopian, necromantic, and hyper-sensory domestic horror of Quaraun’s everyday life with BoomFuzzy (and sometimes GhoulSpawn), in a grim world ruled by undead Faerie warlords where society has collapsed and survival is brutal, intimate, and corrupt, and Humans are often on the menu of UnSeelie Court feasts.

Seen in image: 

- IMAGE 1: The Pink Necromancer, Thullid Infested Moon Elf silk weaver, travelling merchant, & Royal Court Mage of The UnSeelie Court: Quaraun Swanzen on Noodle Beach. With his unhinged temper, his 12 foot long prehensile, venomous jellyfish tentacle hair, his deadly laser wand, and his inability to stay sober long enough to cast a spell properly, he is the most feared being in the known universe. Quaraun is literally a Space JellyFish (A Thullid) whom has taken control of the corpse of a dead Elf.

In the year 2525, a comet struck the Moon. Now, in 40th century Maine, Earth is frozen, the Moon is fractured, and UnDead Lobsters are a serious problem. And then there's Quaraun: The Pink Necromancer. Most feared super villain on Earth. Possibly the galaxy. Maybe ever. But all he wants is tea, silk embroidery, and a calm evening in his lighthouse.

- IMAGE 2: Master Chef Phooka turned Lich King of The UnSeelie Court: King Gwallmaiic aka BoomFuzzy the Unicorn with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. He is king of the entire fucking planet. Defy him and he'll serve you as the main course of the next UnSeelie Court feast. The world's only known Unicorn, in his true form he is a tiny lilac coloured Shetland Pony with a gleaming silver horn. In his Lich form he is a blue crystal skeleton of a Friesian stallion. 

BoomFuzzy, the Unicorn Lich King of the UnSeelie Court, is Quaraun's dead husband. Technically dead. Officially terrifying. Unofficially the best baker left in the apocalypse.

- IMAGE 3: The Satyr-like, mad scientist Sheep Demon: Gremorse Liore aka GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. He is Quaraun's apprentice, and fast becoming the most powerful wizard in the universe.

GhoulSpawn, their brilliant, baffled companion, fell through time from 1978 and never found the way home. Now he juggles tech repairs, running from zombies, and being madly in love with the two most dangerous men of the apocalypse.

 - Art by Wendy Christine Allen. 

- Not seen here: Toobe: a deceptively innocent looking tiny flying silver metal orb that hoovers around GhoulSpawn, giving science reports and scanning for dangers, Toobe is a sadistically insane sentient AI from thirteen thousand years in the future, who is the real brains behind the plot of global domination.

• The Series Prologue  

• Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Washer Woman & The Fae

The air in The Godforsaken City was thick with the smell of decay, smoke, and the faint, acrid scent of the polluted ocean.

The city, once called Boston, many centuries ago, long before the comet strike had decimated the land, lay in ruins, a broken shell of its former self. Twisted metal and shattered stone littered the streets, while ragged banners and makeshift tarps flapped weakly in the frigid wind.

The Godforsaken City was a desolate place, the sort of place where only the desperate survived, clinging to the remnants of the old world. Full of the world’s worst and most dangerous criminals, few dared enter its walls, save other criminals.

Quaraun walked carefully through the cracked cobblestone streets, his pink silk robe fluttering around his feet, its hem barely touching the ground. He held the folds of his sleeves close to his body, wary of the dirt and grime that permeated every corner of the ruined city.

In his other hand, Quaraun carried his embroidered pink silk slippers, unwilling to let his delicate finely embroidered shoes touch the filthy ground.

Quaraun’s bare feet felt the cold, wet stone beneath him, but it was a small sacrifice to keep his clothing immaculate.

BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn followed behind him, as always. BoomFuzzy poking GhoulSpawn. GhoulSpawn slapping BoomFuzzy. Both of them arguing about something. Quaraun did not know what. He wasn’t paying attention.

BoomFuzzy, in his tartan and hakama, moved barefoot through the slush with the ease of someone used to navigating filthy streets. He never wore shoes. Most Faeries didn’t. Quaraun was a rare exception. Though Quaraun spent more time carrying his shoes then putting them on his feet.

The Faeries concept of shoes, was vastly different then the Human concept of shoes.

For Humans, shoes were protection from the weather, the dirt, the mud, the rain, the cold, the heat, the snow, the wet.

For Faeries, shoes were silly Human inventions, that served only to separate one’s soul from nature. Humans hated Nature. Faeries knew this to be true, based on how much time Humans spent cutting down trees, building houses, and wearing clothes, all thing meant to keep Nature out.

Elves liked to think of themselves as not Faeries.

However, Elves were in fact Faeries, they were just uppity, persnickety Faeries, who refused to show their emotions and unlike other Faeries, wore clothes to better fit in with Humans. Though fitting in with Humans was not how Humans saw it. Humans saw Elves as outlandish, haughty, arrogant, and bizarre.

Wild Elves, were Elves who continued to live in the Olde Ways, running around naked.

No shoes.

No clothes.

Celestial Elves, sometimes referred to by the Humans as ArchAngels, were Elves who wore clothes. Strange, elaborate, elegant, impractical clothes. And lived in cult like compounds worshiping the celestial bodies.

Sun Elves, worshiped the Sun.

Comet Elves, worshiped the Swift Tuttle Comet. That is until Swift Tuttle crashed into the moon, cause the current ice age state of affairs the Earth now found itself in.

Moon Elves, worshiped the Fractured Moon. What was left of it after the Swift Tuttle Comet had hit it.

Moon Elves went extinct, however, because they ganged up on and killed a deadly Phooka, known as The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley, and his husband, who happened to be a Moon Elf, became a necromancer, and killed every last Moon Elf and used their souls to resurrect his dead Phookan husband as a Lich.

And then there were the High Elves.

High Elves, were very high.

They loved LSD.

And Opium.

And hashish.

And morning glory seeds.

And fly argyria.

And whatever else they could find to high off of.

Quaraun was a High Elf. Higher than most. He was also a Moon Elf. The Last Moon Elf. The Pink Necromancer. And BoomFuzzy was his Phookan husband turned Lich, whom in life had been The Elf Eater of Pepper Valley.

Quaraun looked back at his barefoot Phookan Lich husband, who was currently cheerfully bouncing circles around their Ursiug live-in lover GhoulSpawn.

BoomFuzzy was wild as ever. Hyper and full of boundless energy. His grey dreadlocks blew in the wind, purple cloutie ribbons flickering in and out of sight.

GhoulSpawn, taller and more hulking than the other two, clomped along with his gold painted cloven hooves, his orange and yellow batik tie-dye robes billowing as his cloven feet navigated the uneven ground with more difficulty.

GhoulSpawn, having had enough of BoomFuzzy’s tomfoolery, trotted up ahead to catch up with Quaraun.

“We are lost, aren’t we?” GhoulSpawn asked, his voice tinged with curiosity rather than concern.

“We are not lost,” Quaraun snapped. “I know exactly where we are.”

“And that is?”

“We’re in The GodForsaken City.”

“Uhm… yeah. I know that. That’s not what I meant.”

Quaraun glared at GhoulSpawn.

“Stop talking like a vile Human hiding secret meanings into your words and speak plainly what you mean.”

“I know this city. Back in the 1970s, where I’m supposed to be, this used to be Boston. We’re in Massachusetts.”

“The old governments exist no more,” Quaraun stated. “Imaginary Human land lines, barriers that mean nothing, political boundaries… all of that was gone before I was even born. Heck, most of it was gone when, Unicorn was still a child, and he’s over two thousand years old.”

There was a crash and clattering behind them. Quaraun and GhoulSpawn looked back in time to see a team of horses, running free down the street, the stagecoach they had been hitched to free wheeling in the opposite direction, while Humans scrambled to get out of the way. The stage driver and passengers screaming in terror.

BoomFuzzy came running up to Quaraun and GhoulSpawn.

“Quick! Let’s duck in the alley!” BoomFuzzy yelled, as he grabbed Quaraun’s arm. “Before they realize who did that.”

“What did you do now?”

“I set the horses free!”

Quaraun looked back at the horses, defiantly running free, while the stagecoach continued it’s way, horseless, down the hill. The Humans inside still screaming in terror.

Quaraun sighed and allowed himself to be dragged by BoomFuzzy into the nearest alley.

The three of them continued on, BoomFuzzy giggling and snickering.

“What is we looking for?” BoomFuzzy asked Quaraun.

”I am searching for a bookstore.”

“Down here?”

Quaraun glared at BoomFuzzy.

“No. YOU just dragged me down here, remember? I was looking for a bookstore back there!”

“Wouldn’t think a city like this had any bookstores left,” BoomFuzzy remarked, hands tucked into his tartan wrap as he scanned the ruins, not seeing much, considering he was almost blind. “Ye know how many books are just burnin’ for heat nowadays?”

“Even so,” Quaraun replied, his voice haughty. “I will find one. This city was once filled with knowledge. It had museums and libraries on practically every corner. I looked into it’s history. There used to be bookstores. Quite a few of them. Somewhere, there are still books waiting to be discovered. I can feel it.”

As they turned a corner into yet another narrow alley, the wind shifted, bringing with it the scent of damp cloth.

Quaraun paused, sniffing the air.

“I smell soap.”

His sharp senses picked up the sound of water sloshing and the unmistakable scent of soap — weak, barely present, but there. His clear blue eyes narrowed as he spotted a figure hunched over a stone trough, scrubbing clothing in a slow, methodical rhythm.

An old woman stood by a broken-down stone wall, hanging laundry on a makeshift line of frayed rope. The garments, tattered and faded, fluttered weakly in the wind. She wore a patched woolen dress, her hair tied back in a kerchief, and her hands were red and raw from the cold water and rough fabric.

A battered washboard leaned against the stone trough, the wood splintered and the metal surface warped from years of use.

Quaraun frowned, his distaste for filth momentarily forgotten as his natural fussiness about cleanliness took over. Without thinking, he approached the woman, his bare feet making barely a sound on the slick cobblestones.

“You are washing clothes in water this filthy?” Quaraun said, his voice sharp, though not unkind. “You will never get them clean like this!”

The woman looked up, startled by the sight of the elegantly dressed Elf. Her eyes widened at the sheer absurdity of his presence — his resplendent pink silk robe with all its layers of ruffles and flounces, his huge neon pink ostrich feather boa, his pink lace parasol, his twelve foot long silver hair, his bare feet, his elegant embroidered shoes hanging from his arm— and she stared for a moment before shaking her head.

“Aye,” she muttered, her voice rough with age. “It’s all I have.”

Quaraun’s nose wrinkled in distaste as he took in the state of her wash. The clothes, already worn thin, were being washed in water that was barely clean, with soap that looked more like chunks of dry clay than anything useful.

“This will not do,” Quaraun said.

Without waiting for permission, he knelt beside her, setting his parasol and silk shoes carefully on a dry patch of stone.

“You are not washing these properly. The fabric will degrade if you keep treating it this way. MOVE! Let me do it! You can not treat your clothes like common garbage. You must treat them like art. Loo, this is how you wash clothes.”

The woman blinked, taken aback.

“You… you don’t need to — “

“I do,” Quaraun interrupted, already rolling up his ruffled pink silk sleeves and inspecting the washboard. “I most certainly do! Glinta! fix this. It is practically falling apart.”

GhoulSpawn, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward and inspected the washboard. His scientific mind immediately began calculating how best to repair it. He pulled out a set of small tools from one of the many hidden pockets in his frock coat and got to work, muttering softly to himself as he examined the damage.

BoomFuzzy, meanwhile, crouched beside Quaraun, watching as the Elf took over the washing.

The Phooka grinned, amused by Quaraun’s sudden urge to clean.

“Helping Humans is ya?”

“Yes.”

“Why? We is UnSeelie.”

“Not all Humans are scum bags. Some need our help.”

“Thought ya was looking for books?”

“This woman needs her clothes washed.”

“Ah! That she does.”

“This soap is horrific!” Quaraun cried out.

“I’ll make better soap,” BoomFuzzy said, already pulling out a small pouch of herbs and oils from his tartan. “What ye’re usin’ now’s no better than mud.”

“You can make soap?” the woman asked, her voice tinged with awe.

“Aye, lass. I can do more than that,” BoomFuzzy replied, his hands moving deftly as he mixed a blend of oils and herbs, heating them with a small flame from his fingertips. “I’ll leave ya the recipe, so ye can make it yerself. It a good recipe. It what him use to wash him silks.”

The woman watched in silence as the three worked, her disbelief giving way to gratitude.

Quaraun scrubbed the clothes with delicate precision, muttering under his breath about how Humans had no idea how to care for their fabrics.

GhoulSpawn repaired the washboard with quick, precise movements, the warped metal soon straightened and the splintered wood reinforced.

BoomFuzzy finished making the soap, his hands slick with oils as he molded it into neat bars.

The woman watched in awe, her eyes wide as she took in the transformed scene. The washboard gleamed with new life, the soap was rich and fragrant, and her laundry hung clean and crisp on the line, the scent of fresh herbs wafting through the cold, damp air.

Quaraun rose gracefully, shaking droplets of water from his hands and carefully collecting his pink silk shoes from the stone wall and slipped them back into his hand, still unwilling to let them touch the ground. He glanced down at his work with the air of someone who had merely restored order to a world too chaotic for his liking.

“Thank ye,” the woman said softly, her voice choked with emotion. “I knew the WeeFolk were still out and about, helping people when they can.”

BoomFuzzy grinned as he handed her a scrap of parchment with the soap recipe scribbled on it.

“Thank ye,” the woman said said again. “I always knew the WeeFolk were still around, helping those of us who need it. They say Faeries have gone, but I knew better.”

Quaraun gave her a slight, regal nod, an elegant flick of his silver hair falling over his shoulder.

“You were not wrong.”

BoomFuzzy, his hands still slick with soap and oils, grinned broadly, flashing sharp teeth.

“Aye, lass. We’re Faeries through an’ through, no denyin’ that. We look after those we take a likin’ to, and our wee JellyElf here took a fancy to ya.”

“Some of us, at least,” GhoulSpawn added in his soft voice. “Not all Faeries are kind.”

Quaraun glanced at him, raising a delicate eyebrow.

“And we are not always known for our kindness, either. Did you forget WHY we were in this alley to begin with?”

BoomFuzzy burst out laughing.

“But today we were,” BoomFuzzy said, patting the old woman on the arm. “And that’s enough. Ye got yer laundry cleaned and some proper soap. Just don’t go expectin’ Faeries to help every time ye’re washin’ yer clothes, eh?”

The woman laughed, still clutching the parchment with the soap recipe, her eyes gleaming with gratitude.

“No, no, I won’t. But I knew you were out there. Thank ye again. Truly.”

Quaraun turned to leave, BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn falling into step beside him. As they walked away, the wind picked up, carrying the scent of clean clothes and herbs through the air, a small oasis of cleanliness in the filthy, broken city.

Quaraun walked ahead, his bare feet gliding over the cobblestones, his shoes still tucked carefully in his hand. BoomFuzzy and GhoulSpawn followed, leaving the old woman smiling to herself, certain she had been visited by Faeries.

And she had.

Quaraun and BoomFuzzy

• On writing a Trans main character and the use of deadnames & old pronouns

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy

Quaraun

GhoulSpawn and BoomFuzzy

GhoulSpawn

GhoulSpawn and Quaraun

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

• eBook Editions from this series can be found on: GumRoad

• Kindle, eBook, Print Paperback, & full colour illustrated Hardcover Editions from this series can be found on: Amazon

Meet The Characters

Wendy Christine Allen, 2019, able to sit up in a chair for the first time in years, and able to raise up my arm and wiggle fingers. This was when I started playing Witcher 3 on Twitch as part of my physical therapy to regain finger movement. Playing Witcher 3 daily from 2016 to 2019, is how I regained the use of my thumb and two for fingers on my right hand... it is also why I stopped playing Witcher 3 in 2019, once I had strengthen my two forefingers enough to start typing again. Wendy Christine Allen, Old Orchard Beach's Autistic Author, Artist, Illustrator, & Art Car Designer Counting Down to the September 23, 2028 50th Anniversary of my first published book (September 23, 1978) If you are here looking for The Twighlight Manor series, The Crystonite Wars series, The Wild Years series, The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane series, The Twisted Tales series, the Captured By a MerMan series, The Space Dock 13 series, The Kats of Planet Ptarmagin series, the stories about Miss Citten the Eel-Kat, or the stories about Etiole... ALL of those series were combined and consolidated into The Adventures of Quaraun the Insane Pink Necromancer series in 2014, so ALL the different series, are now under one series title. List of the published titles still in print: The Index of over three thousand stories in The Pink Necromancer series What the series is about, for those new here: The introduction to The Pink Necromancer Series.

If you want some stories to get you started in The Pink Necromancer series, reading these first will give you a good introduction to the 3 main characters: BoomFuzzy's Chowder Dilemma If your ass ain’t freezing or your brains ain’t scrambled, you’re ain’t really trying A Very Important Clump of Grass The Washer Woman & The Fae Absinthe Slushies: An Ode to Frozen Green Fairy Wine Bone Dice Excited For The New Baby Zwodder: A Drowsy Stupid State of Mind Pink Sheep, Cheesy Burritos, and The Grim Reality of Zombies Open Grave The Phooka's Dragon School The Moon Goddess Laughs From The Rooftops The Jar of Pickled Toes The Book Burning Maggots, a You Can't Spell Hatred Without Red Hats A Day In The Life of a Bumbling Necromancer The Three-Seventeen Pee Expedition

My Elves Are JellyFish...and I asked Google AI and ChatGPT 5.6 what they thought of this.

As requested, my daily writing prompt series is now available print paperback editions on Amazon.

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.1: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.2: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.3: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.4: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

365 Cozy Writing Prompts For Fantasy Writers Vol.5: Daily Writing Prompts Series For Writers of Serial Pulp Fiction

There are 20 volumes of this writing prompt series currently planned and in varying stages of finishing, hopefully all 20 will be published by the end of 2026. I likely will do a 2nd series of writing prompt books in 2027.

Health update: August 4, 2026 - in recovery for 6 months+ (at least until mid-January 2027...all book and video game releases are pushed back at least 6 months) see video below for why...

@eelkat health update #maine #disabilityawareness #wheelchairlife #wheelchairvlogger #multiplesclerosis ♬ original sound - Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

Update Sept 3, 2026:

I am able to get around enough to take Koko to dog park... today is 29 days since getting out of hospital. My diet is still mostly liquid, but im eating some solid food again, but its like rice or soft mushy baby food type stuff because I still can not chew yet, though I can swallow again. My jaw is still not functioning good so im having trouble talking still. So there's been slight improvement to my mouth, throat, and jaw, but, zero improvement to my eye, which is a major concern, be Im almost fully blind right now. im legally blind since birth in my left eye, so I have no ability to fall back on using my left eye. My right eye is the one injured and my vision in it is "40% decreased" according to my doctor, but it wasn't good vision to begin with, and right now my right eye is not much different from my legally blind left eye. Which I why I have to have someone drive my car for me instead of me driving my car myself right now, which is very frustrating, because, being a female, I had to fight for over twenty years to be allowed to drive. I started sneaking out at age 31 and dressing as a man to go to Old Orchard Beach high school to get a ged, because us females are not allowed to go to school. And i was 37 years old when snuck out to the DMV and got a driver's permit and started going to college. I was 42 and 8 months pregnant when my family found out I was going to college and thats when I was punished by the backhoe driving over my house and my spine broken with a golf club and my baby born right then and killed with same golf club. So it's very frustrating now, so soon after finally being able to drive , to now not be able to drive because of an eye injury, especially after 14 years of being paralyzed from the golf club and not being allowed to have a wheelchair, again, because i am female and we females are simply not allowed to do anything. I hate the culture I was born into. I wish I had the freedom to go to school and drive a car the way American women do. I wish having my spine broken with a golf club and my baby killed with a golf club and a backhoe driven over my house was not how men in my family punishment women in my family for learning to read and write. Its so frustrating not being able to to drive again, so soon after 14 years being paralyzed, and being paralyzed by the golf club was the punishment for getting a driver's license back in 2013 after 30 years of men not letting me have one. I hate my family's culture and how they treat us women.

I get so sick of Americans telling me how they wish they could be a Gypsy… they are either misogynist woman hating pigs, or delusional idiots who haven't got a clue how shittily we Gypsy women are treated by Gypsy men, because no one in their righ mind who knows anything about Gypsy culture would ever want to be part of it. I hate that I was born a Gypsy. 

update sept 7, 2026

"You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me?

I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking.

So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me.

see video below for more information: 

@eelkat "You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me? I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking. So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me. #mainelife #biddefordmaine #maine #disabilitytiktok #Biddeford ♬ original sound Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author

update Sept 15, 2026:

I have some slight movement in some my fingers again again after over a decade being paralyzed

you remember how I used to be a professional doll making, pattern designer, and embroiderer, back before I became paralized and before my son was murdered and being the backhoe drove over my house?

all my equipment, sewing machines, ect were all destroyed by the backhoe driving over my house, and I have been quardepelegic for over a decade because of it so could not use my hands to sew or draw or embroider, and so only continued to do my writing of novels since then because I could do that with dragon dictation software,

well, since 2016, I been playing Witcher 3 and don't starve video games on twitch livestream, one hand two fingers, as part of my therapy to regain nerve and muscle use of my fingers, and now after 10 years of that, I have somewhat more movement in my fingers and im thinking maybe I can try to do embroidery and doll making again, but not sure, anyways, now im rebuying all of my sewing and embroidery equipment that the backhoe destroyed when it drove over my house, and hopefully I can use my hand enough to embroider again.

waiting for stuff to arrive in mail, so soon I should find out if ten years of twitch gaming has given me enough muscle strength to use my fingers to embroider again.

update to the previous video, answering viewer question about lack of hospital vs broken spine

Wheelchair Fundraiser... I need to upgrade to a power wheelchair, the manual one just isn't enough anymore. But the power wheelchair is $25k. Yes, twenty five thousand dollars. Wtf? I can get a car for a quarter that price, why are wheelchairs so damned expensive? That's more money then I make in five years, so I need to start a fundraiser for it.

Books By Wendy Christine Allen
Currently Available on Amazon Kindle:

Index of the Quaraun novels, novellas, & short story collections on Amazon

And GumRoad:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on GumRoad

On Medium:

An Index of the more than TWO THOUSAND Quaraun Short Stories on Medium

(NOTE: a $5 or $15 per month paid subscription required to access stories on Medium)

On Vocal:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on Vocal

On Notd:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on Notd

On OnlyFans:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on OnlyFans

(NOTE: a $4.99 per month paid subscription required to access stories on OnlyFans)

Pink Necromancer Merch: On CafePress:

An Index of the Quaraun Merch on CafePress

Pink Necromancer Merch: On Zazzle:

Index of the Quaraun Merch on Zazzle

Not Quaraun:

This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

All Rights Reserved.