#originalauthor

[givn]

when i god forsee need to be, for instance when there is incoherence in conversation and having to put up with the could tender of such prowl. howwl why don't you again david, knock your head, give me the privilege to say it for my self not just for up tactics; dumbass that's not how to do that attribute I see your positive intent and I like it but it was poor choice of words used instead of the pertaining subjective and or verbs used to decipher the code of the story so basically... lord, ill give you an example,

damn, actually after holding my tongue, i now see the totalness of everything about the subject, the prism of it makes you more refined when choosing to battle in the conjecture of man; kin, remember that.. never forgotten, the unwritten but always present within #brocode #brocodeNo.1

[givn]

My two rules when and if this screenplay is considered;

#loneinteger

Nudity and sexual interactions of @elitenetflixsource bound; become only North American modality.

By that I mean to say: very reclusive inclusive and of PG origin, because I know that would be ratings heavy

Rule 1: we respectfully like @obx make a geological heritage look up after Gabriel(me) sees his destiny on a google search when he he’s scouted to attend Elite Academy, from the Vixen family he participated in

Rule 2: to have me set forth to be a lead man in my own movie and add and focus on writing Angelo’s characters for part TWO seen after the first, is the venture to be unhinged and prolonged the Playa Esmeralda working forward within domination of finally finding out a place you hadn’t known but finally know its location and that it is indeed real.

More over Angelo affiliated within affluent brands that he’s supported in real life he comers into Elite beef top Influencer; who attracts a lot of attention but notices the poetic prowess of the wallflower Gabriel, whom shows him and motivates him in secret at first; more frontal second showing him in poised aperatures building a secret vision scape with him as his lover whom he chooses in mystery and tentaciones of other kisses that show to him Gabriel is vulnerable and needs safety; upon seeing this and the new technology of AI-decoders he starts to from his FBI family BG (backstory made up) he has access to this and then pushes him to inform him he’s actually of a hidden stem of royalty of said Spain.

Why he decided in secret to come to Spain to as a normal nobleman. But altogether ready to project his imagination with someone who he had wanted since the age of 5/6.

Furthermore keys are what he interests him; so due to this he collects and becomes wealthy from the tokenization offers from black rock as a new form of currency to rid Carla of her corrupt fathers hold he has over the school and his city. Enabling Carla to befriend Gabriel and be his wing woman to get Angelo but Patrick insensitively blocks their attempt and tries to steal him, to which in sort the shorter in height privilege kids come together and take control of the party at Playa Esmeralda,

(giving courage to those other feel short or not enough for A,B, C or D reason to stand up to bullies)

For further analysis later

Image provided below is the space intrepid light beam ship that allows us from not travel through space but within its curves within the time scope to entangle age and identification attributes to all time one time without gaps and or spaces left missed like interstellar\\|//new tech|.

https://x.com/dvidballen

[lovetnaomi]

An idea I had a while back but haven’t done anything with yet:

I had been angry when my roommate abandoned me running two floors up to our room, panic pulsing in my fingertips at the intruder in our front door only being able to told by two signs: the fight they went through to get through the front door and a weapon. That’s right I had been angry. Two minutes later she flew down the stairs at mock 2 on roller skates with a sword in hand

[ontheotherside1]

falling in love suddenly

The feeling you get

Your stomach is a mess

Words make you fret

You care about your dress

The smiles exchanged

Flutters begin to start

The feelings arranged

Light comes from the heart

To feel the lips

Skin soft and eyes bright

From top to hips

A glowing light.

[givn]

they said wed be in some trouble,

some other past that presnts itself forward

delegating lines and fostering new found throughts to mind

i rest and let the moments pass until I meet you again.

ya you..

ya...

#youunderground

[j-eliasepp]

Grave Digger: Part 2 By: J. Elias Epp Illustration by: Bjarke (I don’t own any rights to the picture and am only using it for my hobby writing purposes)

The evergreens above his head creak with a coating of ice. Their branches rattle against each other. The gray of morning has come. He wakes, stiff as frost. He stirs and snow falls off him. The fire is only embers from the night. A wisp of smoke trails into the air. With clumsy-cold fingers he stokes the fire back to life. He warms himself, then takes a drink of water, careful not to bruise the remaining flowers. He tucks the water skin into his cloak, near his heart to keep the water from freezing and the flower petals soft. Morning lights the sky into a dull gray. He lingers by the fire, the only warmth for many miles around. Jarl fled the ruins of his city He took the wealth he pillaged from the dead He loads the donkey with his plunder and only then begins to leave. He pushes himself through the thicket and travels the forested valley floor. He sweats as he pushes his way through snow drifts. He pauses and rests, careful not to work too much. The trees block any breeze that would otherwise reach him. His warmth reminds him of his top cloak. Without it he would have frozen, yet he is warm now. The woman who lent it to him, is she warm? Or is the cold gripping her heart in its stony fist? He left his family’s rubble-buried bones Their bodies found no peace upon burning pyres Half the day passes before he climbs out of the valley into the Slow Highlands. The still form of a giant’s skeleton faces away from him, midstride. It faces the way he is going. Gentle mountains ring a frozen lake. The pine trees give the only green the land grows. The lake mirrors the sky. White and slate grays. Its smooth surface is like the work of giants, not of nature. He looks behind him, before him and to the sides. There is only the slate grey of sky blowing from a sliver of blue on the horizon. The air is calm even in the open. The shortest way back is across the lake; a thin separation between life and death. If winds don’t freeze him, the waters will. He escaped that day of disaster But another pursued him, slowly overtook him

His hand presses gently over his heart where the flowers are. The frigid air bites at his chapped hands. He feels the roughness of her cloak under his hand. A small breeze comes and goes, making him shiver. He sets off across the frozen lake. The giant is stopped mid-stride, as if time itself became its enemy. The landscape passes slowly by. The day passes by. The lake does not. The man and donkey walk over its expanse yet never reach its end. The giant’s still form stays upon their left. A daze falls upon the man. His body feels like lead. The lake is an endless horizon. The sun sets a cold pink-red, rimmed by purple-tinged gray clouds. Still he walks, his mind as blank as the slate boards below and above him. The curse followed him It corrupted the paths and the wealth he carried A breeze picks up. The clouds set with the sun. The sky’s chill gray is replaced with a pale blue moon and cold stars. The glaze over his eyes clears and he blinks. He looks about him as if just waking. The patterns of ice, snow and rock glow the same as the surface of the moon. The shadows of the trees are as deep as the sky’s black voids. He frowns at the world around him. He is still crossing the lake. The sky is dark when it should be light. A wolf howls far behind him. The donkey jerks on his rope, nervous. He turns, slowly, as his danger dawns upon him. There, far across the lake, black shapes moving. His flight was slowed He heard his enemy’s horns and knew his end He runs. The donkey senses the fear and runs ahead of him, pulling him along. He slips and falls, catches himself with the donkey’s rope and pulls himself back up. Another howl, closer. The donkey veers towards the trees on the shore. The thumps of hooves and feet echoes in the lake like drums. The ice groans. Howls. Scratching claws close behind.

Author’s Note: This is only a part of what I was planning to write this time. I came down with a sickness and wasn’t able to finish. However, I’ll be releasing the rest later. In all, I plan to come out with Part 3 sometime in the future and be done with this exercise. I only continued the story because for one, it was unfinished, and two, it was a big hit when I shared it with my writing group and they asked for more. Initially, it was just supposed to be a one-off. If you enjoyed the story, please share, like and comment below! :D

[candyturtle-mama]

The ORIGINAL author of this 'tale as old as time' was Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve! As interesting as other versions are I feel Madam De Villeneuve doesn't get much credit, mainly due to Jeanne-Marie LePrince de Beaumont who shortened and rewrote the classic story after De Villeneuves' death in 1755 and didn't even credit her! 👸💙🌹💛👹 #gabriellesuzannebarbotdevilleneuve #originalauthor #beautyandthebeast #taleasoldastime #oldbooks #minalima #interactiveelements #interactivebook (at Barnes & Noble)

[givn]

in the summer vibe i feel astonished at what the body ill have will be like and I will love myself ten million percent more, but babe don't hurt my pocket to play then coy about it all, have the truth.

Instagram

[givn]

go ahead, everyone is listening,

everyone is poised and attentive to hear what you have to say next

instead of a story about love or war, how about a sombre attempt at an account with a happy ending, love wins type situation.

one where the main character, ages and in facets becomes the master of himself.

where he triumphs and no more disruption in all matter related, is in balance. when the ether opens up and we are stable.

That's when the story begins. I will work in discrete and in the realm of the known. enabling growth and bringing back topics of the ancient past that percolate and resonate today. we are "ether" risen.

[o2world]

...rare moments like this should be posted and given enough time so the world could process, digest and absorb the elements in this photo! 🤪 these are from #CoffeeJelly! Still the thoughtful friend who gives in to my sweet cravings circa 2000, this time with some stuff from his beloved bank! #LOL . ========================= #ThankYou #Cofs for reminding that our friendship is beyond corporate give aways! 🤣 #Maybank #Bankers #OriginalAuthorizer #Coffee #Jelly #Tabs #HunkDaysAreGone #CoffeeLovers #CoffeeLover #sorryiforgotouranniversary so i guess this is really for our #Friendversary! 🤩☕️📘🌂 #elevenyears anyare?!

[lovetnaomi]

As a writer I’ve got to make choices I don’t want to make, like do I update my fanfiction, my fanart, my original content? I want to write them all but can only do one at a time?

[ontheotherside1]

Set the scene Shadow over the green Fluff in the air How’d it get there? Peaceful and serene Starts to get mean Slowly darkness groans Shiver in my bones Fallen is a drop Then CRASH, POP You thought beauty You got pain So loud, youre restless Lay breathless Storm ends Broken mends Loving is hard Never easy I still love you So thats why im cheesy Youve left me For that, no glee. You touched my heart Just to depart.

By Katrina Marnette ~ Rain Falls on Empty Fields

[j-eliasepp]

Hot Guy Cold Guy: Chapter 4: Scene 1

By: J. Elias Epp

Illustration by: Fnming

(I don’t own any rights to the picture and am only using it for my hobby writing purposes)

 Skah was thrown to the floor of the prison cell. He stumbled and caught himself from crashing into the stone wall. The solid wood door slammed behind him.

Skah winced and held his stomach where the bandages were from his fight with Yuko. It had taken a lot of effort not to show how hurt he really was while traveling. That crazed Yuko character didn’t know when to stop.

The sound of an angry lowing came from an iron-grated window near the ceiling of his cell.

Skah pulled himself up to the ledge of the small window and looked through the gaps into the prison yard. The window was at ground level and a cart was parked in front of it, keeping the sun out of the cell. Two guards were attempting to pull Chase out of the prison’s gate unsuccessfully.

“Chase! Just go lie down in the straw will you?” Skah yelled.

The ox slowly turned, dragging the guardsmen with him to where a few horses were stabled. Chase found the empty stall, and still dragging the guardsmen, backed into it and lay down.

Disgusted, the guardsmen threw the ropes down and walked away. Chase flicked his ear amusedly.

Skah let himself down from the window after seeing Chase was alright. He inspected his new quarters. There was a wood board cot and a bucket. Oh, and the window. He nodded.

“Not bad.” He told himself.

He gently sat down on the cot and unwrapped his bandages to look at his wounds. The one on his side wasn’t much more than a small cut. The one in his stomach, however, was the real problem.

When he had moved to pursue Yuko, he felt his wound spread. It felt like his stomach was cracking. When he looked down after Yuko ran off, he found that was actually true. Cracks had spread out from the puncture point like a crumbling stone. Chips had even flaked off.

He had spent almost an hour thawing himself before he felt he could move again. He had used his sword to speed the process and had burned himself as well. Then he had to steal some clothes in town as the cracks and puncture point started bleeding.

He shook his head. Yuko had landed a more critical blow than he thought.

He removed the last bandages and revealed the healing cuts and burn blisters. He pursed his lips, then grinned wide. It would make one awesome-looking scar.

There was a clacking of keys at his door and it opened. Two guardsmen came in with swords drawn.

“Lie down!”

Skah raised his hands and complied.

The guards glanced nervously at the bizarre wound, then advanced into the room.

A man followed after them. He was dressed simply, but fashionably. He had graying hair and was carrying a bag.

Skah eyed the man. “Here to cast demons out of me?”

A guard came in with a stool and then left. The man put his bag on the ground and sat on the stool. “You’re no demon.” He said simply. “I’ve helped burn demons before and you don’t look like one.”

A light came into Skah’s eyes. “Maybe I’m a demon in disguise!”

The man thought a moment, then nodded. “We’ll find out.” He took something from his pack, a smaller bag, and took out a pinch of powder from it. “Open your mouth.”

“Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“I could put this in your eyes, ears or nose if you prefer.”

Skah opened his mouth.

The man reached out his hand.

Skah clamped his mouth shut.

The man sighed. “Don’t be a child. Take your medicine.”

“I can smell what that is. Its poison.”

The man sniffed it. He glanced at the guards and cleared his throat. He put the pinch of powder back in its bag and rummaged some more in his sack. Finally, he pulled out another bag, much like the first. He mumbled something about labeling them.

Skah grinned. “If I were a demon, raasdom weed would take care of the problem, but we’re trying to find out if I really am one, remember?” Skah eyed the new bag. “That had better be dried thut-ajen sap. Sap doesn’t make my stomach hurt.”

“Thut-ajen! I only reserve that for the worst cases!”

Skah shrugged. “We’ll be doubly sure then! Both me and you.”

The man nodded sagely and returned to his sack. He brought out a glass vial with a cork stopper and a translucent amber powder inside.

“Hold on!”

Skah looked at the man.

“How do you know all this?!”

“I’ve been accused of being a demon many, many times. I’ve become an expert!”

The man shook his head and took a pinch of the powder out.

Skah opened his mouth and let him sprinkle some in. He swished it around in his mouth a little, then nodded. “You have some good stuff.”

The man grunted and started cleaning up Skah’s wound.

Skah winced. “Why am I getting treatment? Normally-”

“We don’t care if you die in prison.” The man finished. “However, the royal family has requested to see you, so, we keep you alive by necessity.”

Skah grinned. “Oh, this sounds like fun!”

The man shook his head.

“Do I get to-”

“No.”

“When do I-”

“Can’t say.”

After a few moments of silence, Skah looked at the man. “Can I call you Raas?”

“No.”

 Author’s Note:

One part of writing this story organically is the difficulty of including an overarching plot. I have the basic ideas for Skah and Yuko’s motivations and it is from those I am going to pull where the larger direction of the story turns.

All in all, I’m writing this story for fun and I hope you all have just as much fun reading it!

[duckprintspress]

Hiii! Yes we exist! Honestly basically all our authors are on Tumblr, though some have chosen more anonymity than others! We talk about ourselves as a small press because we're collectivized so that none of us HAVE to self-publish, but really we're like, 80 fanauthors and 40 fanartists in one ginormous original fiction and art trenchcoat. :D (and of course, virtually everything is queer.)

You can see all our stuff on our website, here: https://duckprintspress.com/ (a few of our longer works have teasers/free chapters up. :D )

For some of our specific authors who I know are public with their tumblr selves as authors:

@unforth, @tryslora, @boneturtle @arialerendeair @faerytaleonfire @jhoomwrites @jemariel @theleakypen @alecjmarsh @owlouterbridge

(there's loads of others, but we only share information we're authorized to share, and these are folks I know are okay with having originalauthor!them linked with Tumblr/fandom!them. :D )

can y'all recommend some folks on tumblr that write and post their queer/lgbtqia+ fiction? if you are one of those people, rec yourself! send me your wip intros or whatever, I'm down for that, tag me in posts, whatever

I'm not saying I'm back-back but I want to like, dip my toes back into this thing in the hopes it'll help me get back into writing and I need writerly folks to surround myself with to get there

[nakulanand]

Om Namah Shivaay! ...... Photo: @pinterest # OriginalAuthor Video Motion: @anandnakul #NakulAnand App: @zoetropic_app #zoetropicoftheday #zoetropicapp #zoetropic #zoetropicsociety #zoetropicvideos #zoetropicindia #zoetropicindonesia #zoetropicdream #zoetropicmotion ...... #creatives #art #cinemagraph #cinematography #motionpicture #werbleapp @werbleapp #plotaverse #plotagraph @plotaverse #photomanipulation #photooftheday #fire #shiv #lordshiva🙏 #killer #emotions #storyz @storyzapp #photographyeveryday https://www.instagram.com/p/BxESkqAl1KM/?igshid=p2cmxjc2kqyd