Истории Bottled

The death of the Beast Collector was the beginning of a new life for firefox kit Zanixa. Sold to werewolves as an illusion in a bottle, the pack is reluctant to take responsibility for the fox kit who is alone in the world. Now she's freed after centuries of imprisonment, the pack's resident vampire takes care of her. Zanixa has other ideas than staying with them, though. She is eager to find her mother... if her mother is still alive. The world is a big, dangerous place for a young magical fox who knows nothing about werewolf wars, hungry rogues, or nature spirits. -=-=-=-=- [Bottled: Book One] [High-Fantasy | Werewolf] [Cover by @calmwolf] [Featured by @werewolf | Other Worlds, Werewolves & Other Creatures reading lists] [Featured by @WattpadVampires | Featured reading list] [Featured by @ForbiddenWorlds | Fantastical & Fancy reading list] [Featured by @magic | Featured Magic Stories (twice), Magically Thrilling / Unexpected reading lists] [Featured by @childrensfiction | Age 10-12: English stories reading list] [Featured by @WattpadChronicle | Monthly Spotlight reading list] [Third place in the Flavored Awards] [Third place in the Blue Rose Awards] [Featured on national Dutch television]

Tears and fake smiles. All Bottled Up Inside of you

A. Non. Shortest Story Writer?

A tradition which is refined over the years by generations of skilled master craftsmen, so that every drum of this blended scotch whiskey has a small glass of history in its own right. This multi-year-old scotch was distilled and blended in the Scottish Highlands.

In which I complain about everything and try(fail) really hard to be inspirational

Some poems I wrote from the back of my head 🥰🥰I'm not the best at writing poems so sorry in advance if they suck

literally this book is just about my thoughts. ⚠warning ⚠ some of my writing may or will trigger people so you have been warned. Also I suck at writing but I don't care ,this book is to just help me let things out.

Hey my name is Heather and I'm a 17 year old orphan, well in a sense. My parents "died" long ago or at least my perception of them. They use to be these really nice people whom I could be around and tolerate, but everything has taken a turn for the worse. I have been diagnosed with ADHD, OCD, and chronic stress, apparently I need to be on medication for something else, and I have anxiety. On a normal day I just stay shut up in my room alone with no one to talk to, just me and my good old laptop Kenneth. We've been together for about 4 years now, and you could say that we have a "connection". Yes I just cracked a computer joke, I know, very classy. But as time went on I discovered that something critical to my existence was to be myself, I could never be like them. I would have to keep my emotions bottled up, forever.

Description in progress.