Ross Trevelyan 🗻🌲🦪🦀🚵‍♂️

Chapter One September 4th, 2006, 7:58am. The exact moment my life, my whole identity, was irreparably changed. Without my immediate knowledge or consent.

The only place I have today’s #wipsnips word “chapter” is at the beginning of each of my chapters 😂 Welcome to the first lines of Armani and Cigarettes. #writingcommunity #writingprompts #writersky #writesky

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Curious timing surrounding talk of blackmail in the latest Epstein files... & where are the originals? Why is the public seeing ONLY docs we know Ghislaine got via discovery in her case? 🤔These & other critical questions treated here by Allison Gill. Worth a listen.
www.youtube.com/live/kVe1cGz...

Jonathan the tortoise/turtle.

Jonathan is also Mitch McConnell's younger brother.

I always knew we might both die. When I was ordering vast quantities of concentrated nitric acid and learning how to create bombs, my fear was that I might screw up and die before getting a chance to avenge his sister with him.
But he couldn’t die and leave me all alone.
#WIPSnips #MafiaRomance

Garrin ditches his torch in favor of using his slingshot now that Vianna's magical sword has come to life and illuminated the tunnel for them, but the battle against the shaleback horde is far from over.

I am shocked this is my only use of 'screw.'

'Screw this' seems like a pretty tame thing to say when you're getting chased by a horde of giant bugs!

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #HarmonizerTOG

#WIPSnips #screw

The thought stream which culminated in their copulation went as follows: I sense we’re both horny. Horny, not desperate. Screw you, then. Sorry, that just came out. Don’t pity me. Your vulnerability is attractive. Your compassion is sexy. Oh, screw it, let’s do this.

Against a dark background picture of an empty workout area, the words say, “He read on with a creeping sense of dread. They were to receive “hardening conditioning and special skills training,” under the direction of SDF Colonel Sabra Nasri. This was to continue until such time as either Nasri released them for SESU duty, or their special skills were required for an active situation. “We are well and truly screwed. “’This supersedes my, um, ‘former’ assignment?” Shiv scowled at her. “’Welcome to SDF, Starman Zhimon, Starman Morgan. Whole new career now.” Her teeth flashed with renewed glee. “But no, Charlie wouldn’t call it a smile.” “From Ch. 1, ‘Bones for the Children,’ WIP ©2026 by Jan S. Gephardt.

Here's my #WIPSnips from the latest XK9 #novel, "Bones for the Children."
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

From the still-untitled high school #mmromance.

When Paul and I got to watsonville Patrick was awake and out of surgery. I could hear him talking to Andrew "Screw you dude 50 bucks is high." We walked in and got the whole story about the accident. "Be nice to each other" I got the yes mom. #WIPSnips. Charming chocolates

The Alaska Facility. It was the kind of name mentioned only in furtive whispers accompanied by meaningful glances. A name that had become a curse, not only in the four-letter word sense but in the old world bloody-mary bad karmic mantra sense, a devilish kind of place—say it three times, if you dare. Maybe the Minister’s gonna pop out and drag you there in a cloud of cigar smoke. Or Emma Bolzen will crack into existence behind you and screw your head on backwards. Eric had created a lurid image of it in his mind, a sort of blacksuits and labcoats cloak-and-dagger type place, pilfered UFO remains and test weapons of all sorts lining the walls, the birthplace of conspiracy and international intrigue. A government place so shrouded in mystery that most of the country had not believed it existed outside conspiracy—himself included, about four out of seven days of the week. As their hideous beetlelike VTOL approached the place, he gazed upon a huge unwholesome black metal stain of a building, a massive twisted black gargoyle jutting out crudely from the icy coastline.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

The word "screw" only barely factors into this probably-overwritten description of a shady government facility, but it's a pretty screwy place, all things considered.

Djamin smiled at him. "I didn't want to overwhelm you since it's your first time. I thought I would let you get accustomed to it first." Hodari leaned in to kiss him. "Mmm 's nice kissing' you. I could definitely get used to that." Djamin held him close, running his hand over Hodari's firm bottom. "l could definitely get used to that too." He gave Hodari a swift slap on his butt cheek. Djamin rolled over to grab the tube of lotion to lube his fingers again. "You sure you want to?" Hodari watched him work the lotion between his fingers. "Common' darlin' I'm all yours." Djamin grinned wickedly, making a twirling motion with his hand to get Hodari to flip over onto his stomach. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear." He grabbed Hodari's legs, pulling him off the bed so that he was bent over it. He stood behind him, then fingered his anus with the lubed fingers. Hodari moaned again with pleasure as he did so. Then Djamin grabbed his hips, and entered him again slowly. Hodari cried out in ecstasy as Djamin started to pump faster. "Uhhhhh. Ohhh my Dragon. Ohhh my dragon..." Djamin laid on top of him, holding out his arms over his head as he continued. He whispered into Hodari's pink pointed ears. "Do you want me to stop?" "Nno....he stammered. "Ohhh feels so good." he laced his fingers with Djamin as he straddled Hodari, continuing his thrust.

Hodari cried with joy as they continued to make love. All his pain and years of suffering melted away with each moment of pure passion and pleasure. Djamin started to slow his pace, then released his hands and slid them over Hodari's muscular arms and down his back. Hodari moaned softly as Djamin leaned on him, massaging him as he tapered off, finishing. After a moment He moved so that he sat next to Hodari, his knees tucked up under him. "I didn't hurt you did I?" Hodari rolled over again looking up at him. "No darlin' I just got carried away is all. I ain't never felt like that before." Djamin nodded, then grabbed his hand. "I would love to continue giving you pleasure. I could make love to you forever." "Forever is a long time, but i'll be happy with tonight for starters." Djamin laid next to him and laced his fingers with Hodari's. "I love you so much." "I love you too darlin' Hodari smiled at him as they laid together well into the night...

I usually don’t write sex scenes, but …
the first time that Hodari and Djamin “make the dragon”
#NSFW
#WIPSnips #WriteSky
#WritingCommunity
#AmWriting #Romantasy #OriginalStory #Palia
#GayLove #LGBTQ
from “My Life Majari”

Does one give TW for sex discrimination in advancement? It's certainly a trauma for Evie, the liveliest character in my WIP. #WIPsnips #screw #writesky #literaryfiction

Cheating a bit with corkscrew, but hey

In the park Rycus sees a little kid who scratched his knee his mother putting a bandaid on it. Rycus sees an ice cream truck he buys some ice cream for the two of them and gives it to both of them with a happy smile. He then leaves the playground he stops at a random building. He lays his head on it and starts to cry,but has a smile on his face. He drys off his tears with his finger that are impaled with black screw in nails where his finger nails are. He takes off his hoodie and is wearing a normal red shirt he enters the building. Members of the drug cartel are there looking at him.

An old short story I wrote in high school. I honestly don’t remember a lot about it other than the designs I had in mind inspired my interpretation of Homunculus.

“Mom, Dad, how much longer am I going to (How did you put it?) ... sense these wavelengths?” Sophia’s mother turned her head towards her father. “You used the wavelength metaphor?” “Do you have any better ideas?” was his response. “No, it seems like it’s working.” She turned back to Sophia. “It’s going to be a real long time. I can’t say it’s permanent because this happened and so it’s possible it could happen again, but I don’t know that it ever will.” Sophia cried. Her mother pulled her into a close embrace, and her father put his hand on her shoulder. “Can I at least send a message to my friends somehow?” Her father shook his head. “That would be like trying to change orange into green.” Sophia looked at her mother. Her mother nodded in agreement. Sophia felt like she could cry forever.

Sophia's father explained to her that being in a different reality was like being turned to a different frequency.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky

Ebook screenshot from Flight of the Fates, book one, Fight or Flight: "“The words of fools aren’t worth the ink it would take to write them,” she muttered. I knew the quote. I’d read it before, and frowned as I tried to place it. “Felix… Gundarsson, right? The Chaplain and the Captain, it’s a good one.” She looked surprised, but amused. “You know it? I like it as well. Many don’t like it very much - say it’s not enough action, too cramped, set all on a small ship like that.” “Well, I disagree with those many, Miss. I love it, myself.” With a slight shake of her head and a smile, she returned silently to work. Even though I didn’t know what the finished machine was meant to look like, I could tell it was nearing completion. The number of loose wires and unattached screws or bolts or pins made that clear - there were very few remaining. I might not know the length of the list of tasks required total, but those loose wires stood testament to those tasks that remained by virtue of their existence, each one of them a box waiting to be checked off."

#WIPSnips "Screw" from FotF#1, Fight or Flight

AL and Molly pass some time whilst working, and I get a cheeky reference in (this book is largely two people on a small ship XD).

Probably one of the last I'll post from this book… it won't be a WIP much longer! KS is ongoing - exciting!

Aiden can't give a straight answer so he tries to help April with a lesson from her past.

My snip for the word of today: Screw
I don't have screws or nails. I do have a description of a village and a building. There are some nails or screws somewhere.

#WIPSnips #Writesky

“Elon’s bird’s going down!” a Secret Service agent shouted.

They all turned as it corkscrewed through the sky like a flaming middle finger to engineering and vanished behind a gleaming glass skyscraper before detonating into a fireball worthy of Jerry Bruckheimer.
#WIPSnips

Word of the day. Screw. WIP. Seven Hours.

#WIPSnips

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The hoodie is the final piece.

"Deor, beat it. Out of this apartment. Go to the basement, probably. Shut off the juice." "The what?" "The electricity. At the circuit breaker or the fuse box, or whatever this old dump has. Shut it off." The girl looks doubtful. "How do I do this? I'm not an electrician." "Just shut it down. You only have to pull one lever, or push one button." "But which one?" Silvestri takes a deep breath and blows it out. "How should I know? Use that big architectural brain of yours. Pull the biggest switch, the one for the whole building." "But all the other apartments--" "Deor…" The girl bites her lower lip. She mulls a protest. But she sees the logic, the imperative, of her partner's words. "All right," she says. "I'll be back." "Don't," he says. "Don't what?" "Don't do that thing you do. It might startle Mister Roker here and those orange sparks…" She screws up her face. "They aren't those kinds of sparks." "Still…" "Okaaay…" and she steps deeper into the hall and moves out of sight of the bathroom doorway. She is gone in a flash of light and orange sparks. Her vanishing sucks the water in the hall into a peak where she'd stood, then it plops back to the floor and radiates in ripples.

So, Deor and Silvestri walk into a bomb, an apartment pregnant with natural gas, also electrical appliances teetering at the point of sparks and explosions. And there's a guy on a toilet. #WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WriteSky

Was it wrong for police officers to get involved in a bit of criminal interrogation... When he leads to more violence or can it be justifiable?
An Unkindness of Ravens.

#WIPSnips! word "screw"
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

My MC signs up for 10 years in the army, only to receive an immediate promotion. For context, army slang for lance corporal (one stripe)=lance jack and corporal=full screw.

Welcome to a new week of #WIPSnips! The word for March 9th is "screw" #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

From book 6

Their words were ‘gohsih’ for ‘host’ and ‘sholoo’ for ‘guest.’ In almost no time Atosho was able to make things explicit. “You be good guest, I be good host.” ‘Guest’ might seem a fairly vague, minimal offer. But–looked at from an anthropological mindset–it actually covered a lot of ground. Most societies had taken the guest/host relationship very seriously. This was an initial bargain anyway; ‘details to be filled in later.’ We all grasped that. It wasn’t even a deal about actions, really. It was about motives. “We won’t try to screw you over so long as you don’t try to screw us over.” Extending a certain–provisional–respect and courtesy. So I was able to say, “Promise,” with only traces of anxiety. Again, a better deal was not realistic, for the time being.

#WIPSnips 9: screw

Jim's an anthropologist... and so are the people he's working with. They're just from vastly different timelines. Almost nothing in human societies is truly *universal*, but a few things are *very* common.

#SciFi #SFF #SciFiBooks

Somehow it was never anyone’s f*cking fault, and yet I got screwed over. Every. Single. Time. I couldn’t just shove it down and pretend it was nothing. Not this time. My fists clenched, and I wasn’t stopping. I dropped the gloves and let my hands curl up.
#wipsnips

It was your average building, sort of an L shape, rising what looked to be about twenty stories high. The parking lot wrapped completely around the building, directing visitors to park in the rear. The parking in front was reserved for emergencies only. Where was the picnic area or the field where patients with limited supervision were allowed to sit and have lunch with loved ones or simply just enjoy the fresh air and sunshine? Granted, it was November in New York and it was about thirty degrees outside, but still. Were they never allowed outside? I thought about the hospitals I’d seen on TV and in the movies, where they had a main room everyone could go to and watch their shows or play board games, and they definitely had grounds outside that patients could be given privileges for. And I imagined that Whoopie Goldberg probably worked there, too. Thanks to her, I’d never forget where my aorta was located. That’s who should’ve been telling Marc he couldn’t have his razor. I wondered who made the decision to send Marc to this place instead and cursed them for screwing him over.

Today’s #wipsnips word is “screw”. #writingcommunity #writingprompts #writersky #writesky #amwriting

Dan quirked an eyebrow: ‘Whatever way you prefer. Shall I torch down that compound? Send an army of solicitors to boot them out of that property? Siphon their bank accounts? Have their Settled status revoked, then send them back packing to the mainland? I could go and kill each of them personally, if that helps. Though I like the idea of the Solicitors’ Army.’ Magda stared at him. And stared. He stared back, his expression blank and cold: again, that controlled lid tightly screwed over his boiling anger, that anger she saw lurking in his eyes, in a brief flash, before he blinked it away. The same anger as earlier, when she had confessed her worries about his friends and their possible association with— Oh, the horror. So that was what he thought! ‘No—no! They’re not… Dan, they’re not all like him. I really, really don’t think so! Most of the Children are good people—they believe, they’re… they just want a better life. But they’re innocent! I’m sure if they knew what he has in mind, they wouldn’t stay! You can’t… You can’t kill them!’

Screw(ed)
#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #DreamNoMore
Context: Dan has asked Magda if she wants him to get rid of the cult that's been after her. Because technically, with the resources at his disposal, he can. (Of/c it turns out to be more complicated than that later...)

Ætheren’s breathing halted as Finn’s presence filled the space. His long-legged strides swallowed the ground, accentuated by the faint click of a cane made of twisted stone and topped in gilded silver—which he never used except during performances. Finn halted center stage, leaning slightly on his cane as the lanterns illuminated the fine cut of his red jacket, his top hat pulled down low and slightly off-center. He owned the stage before he even spoke a word. And when he spoke, the real magic began. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Finn said with a swoop of his cane. His voice was not his own. It sounded like stone crushing crystal—harsh, otherworldly, melodic. Beautiful and terrible, the voice Finn used was not his own, and yet, Ætheren could not help but listen. It filled every space in the tent. “Wanderers and wayward souls… you stand at the threshold of wonder. Beyond this ring, the world is ordinary. But within it, we defy gravity, mock fear, and dance with the impossible.”

Finn takes the stage… 🎪🖤✨ #WIPSnips from TMF subbing “twist” for “ screw”

Before she could begin her train of thought, let alone continue it, the infirmary doors opened, revealing a towering silhouette beyond. “The kind Artificial told me you’d be here, Captain. Do I intrude?” Yana froze. The same succession of clicks and clacks and chirps that mere hours before held no meaning whatsoever to her, now sounded crisp and clear in her mind. Tel-Ti-Xyd’s voice was earthy and low, tinged with a breeze of excitement. “Looks like he’s up already, Captain!” Rook exclaimed. Yana could only nod flatly. “Yes.” “Machinist Diodorus was able to fit me with an external linguistic implant,” he said, tilting his head to show the metallic plate, fastened tightly to his skull where once a scar had been. “To replace my previous one. He is quite skilled. Regrillian, is he not?” “I think so,” Yana said. “Oh, I should, uh, we should introduce ourselves. I’m Yana, I’m the captain of this ship. And this here is Rook, my security officer.” The alien extended a hand, as before, and Rook hurried to shake it. “Adrian Rook,” they said. “Wonderful, wonderful!” He turned to Yana. “And yours?” “Excuse me?” “Family name? As is custom for many human cultures?” “No family name. Just Yana.”

#WIPSnips

In some sci-fi settings, you get magical translation devices. In First Light, you get those, but also sometimes you get a linguistics implant drilled into the side of your skull and attached directly to your brain analogue.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts