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What are you currently reading?
by tommy
Last post
3 hours ago
...See more Tell us what book you're currently reading! Are you enjoying it? Would you recommend it to someone else so far? {GIF of a cat reading a book}
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Reading & Writing Automated Taglist!
by tommy
Last post
December 2nd, 2024
...See more Welcome to the Reading & Writing Taglist This thread is an auto-updating list. The list is regularly updated by forum leaders and can be found below. Having issues? Reply below and someone will help you! Why should I join the taglist? ✔ Never miss out on sub-community check-ins, discussions or events ✔ Get tagged and notified by community leaders whenever a new relevant thread has been posted ✔ Become a more active member of the community. What do I need to do? ✅ To add yourself to this taglist, press the Post to Thread button below and write the exact words Please add me. ❌ To remove yourself from this taglist, press the Post to Thread button below and write the exact words Please remove me. ------------------------- Current taglist as of 27 August (updated by @tommy) @amiableBunny4016 @calmmoon2104 @dancingGrotto @GwydionRowan @hanasophia @HarmonyBlossom @HatsEatYou @LoveMyMoonflowers @softForest4843 @tommy
twerp profile picture
car windows ch.1
by twerp
Last post
January 3rd
...See more I watch the cars zoom past us as we speed away from yet another part time home. It's not all that bad, after many years of watching friendships grow then hitting the road, you normalize the despondent feel as you let that seed you planted get ripped out by its roots.  Plus, each road trip is equipped with all the junk food you can eat.  You'd be surprised to see what a 99-cent soda that slipped into your pocket from the 7 eleven can do for your troubles. "Lewie".  I look up into the reflection of my father's face in the rearview mirror.  A slight stubble accompanies his pressed lips.  "It's going to be different this time, this place."  He pauses, scratches his head, and turns to meet my eyes. "I know it's hard for you, kiddo, but you have to trust me, this time it will be different."  I wait till he turns back to the road to speak.  "Where are we headed?", I grumbled. Like the universe was listening into our conversation, we passed the sign for Bannack Montana. You've got to be kidding me.
BlueMangocat5071 profile picture
My Story
by BlueMangocat5071
Last post
January 3rd
...See more I have not finished it yet and have no clue what to add for chapter one. this is the prologue. I'm planning on having it go back in time to like tell the story of how it got to what happened in the prologue. Prologue My heart pounded in my chest like it was beating a drum. I didn’t have any time to react before the chandelier was falling toward me. Billions of tiny little lights blazing past my eyes, but I couldn’t focus on any of that. The building catching on fire and the chandelier falling toward my demise didn’t matter to me. What mattered was that the person standing across the room from me yelled something.  Did I make it up? Am I hallucinating? Am I sure this isn’t just a dream? Me wishing that all this in my head was fake? No it couldn’t be fake. I’m bleeding and feeling pain. Not just physical pain but also emotional. This couldn’t be fake. Could it? The flames licked hungrily at the walls, casting flickering shadows across the room. The atrocious scent of smoke filled my nostrils as I struggled to make sense of the chaos unfolding around me. The figure across the room gestured urgently, their words lost in the roar of the fire. With a surge of adrenaline, I pushed past the pain and stumbled towards them, desperate to escape the crumbling inferno. It was useless though. I was trapped by the wall of flames. I felt the heat of the flames start to *** my skin. Sweat flowing down my face and before it even got to the end of my chin evaporating off. I kept pressing on though stumbling as my clothes slowly caught on fire. As I slowly drew closer the person across the room wasn’t warning me but running after me. Maybe my memories are wrong but I swear I was fighting that person 5 minutes ago. Are they my enemy or are they trying to save my life? Confusion and fear swirled inside me as I struggled to grasp the sudden shift in the figure's actions. Were they friend or foe? The flames danced around us, painting a fumage scene of destruction and chaos. With each step closer, the figure's features became clearer, revealing a familiar face contorted in a mixture of determination and concern. As the searing heat enveloped us, the figure reached out a hand towards me, their eyes pleading for trust. Without thinking, I reached out and clasped their hand. They pulled me out of the building, dragging my nearly limp body behind him. As we emerged from the fiery chaos we fell to the grass field outside, gasping for breath in the cool night air, the figure turned to me. At that moment I realized it was him. The person who I had been fighting the entire time.  Why did he save me? Why? I tried to kill him, not once, not twice, but more times than I can count. The weight of conflicting emotions bore down on me as I came face to face with the person I had considered my enemy. Every fiber of my being screamed with the injustice of the situation, the tangled web of hatred and gratitude weaving a complex tapestry of turmoil within me. His gaze met mine, a mixture of exhaustion and relief mirrored in his eyes. The flickering light of the dying flames cast a haunting glow upon his features, accentuating the lines of weariness etched upon his face. "Why did you save me?" I whispered, the words barely audible over the crackling embers that still smoldered around us. He hesitated for a moment, as if grappling with his own inner demons before finally speaking, "Because despite everything, I couldn't let you die. I just couldn’t let you die."
NightshadeSystem profile picture
Ashes of a Phoenix
by NightshadeSystem
Last post
December 18th
...See more Starting a new book, going to post a new chapter each week if i can! Chapter 1 “I like the night. Without the dark, we’d never see the stars” ~Stephenie Meyer, Twilight       Asher had always felt a deep, almost primal connection to the night. As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting the world in a veil of darkness, she found a sense of peace and wonder that the day could never provide. There was something mesmerizing about the way the night sky came alive, the stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across a vast, ebony canvas. In the darkness, Asher felt a freedom, an escape from the demands and distractions of the day. It was as if the night itself wrapped her in a comforting embrace, shielding her from the harsh realities that often plagued her during the day. The night was her sanctuary, a realm where she could truly be herself, unencumbered by the expectations of others. As she gazed up at the celestial display overhead, Asher couldn't help but feel a great connection with the natural beauty that was above her. It was in the night that true beauty was revealed, proven from the stars. She loved the night, but that was also when all the bad came in. She had always loved the night more, although she could never sleep due to nightmares. So, she came outside. The bright beauty of the stars and moon whisked her terrors away, and she was able to think in peace. The first day of junior year was tomorrow, well, today considering it was past midnight. Nonetheless, she was outside, telling the moon all her problems knowing it won’t help anything, although it seemed to help getting it all out every night. It was half past two am before she went back inside to try and sleep before she wakes up at five.   When Asher woke up, all she could think of was the dread filling her. The stares at her slightly pointed ears, her perfectly straight nose, and perfect body. One would think she is popular, but instead she gets called a “wannabe” and “false”.  She convinced herself that they were just jealous that she was prettier than all of them, and one girl tried to be her friend, but in the end was using her for her beauty and tried to set her on fire at a party. She escaped with no bodily harm, but she forever will have a hatred for that girl, and parties. Running, Asher gets to the bus stop right as it pulls up. When she gets on, she notices the driver staring. This year it’s an old guy, and he was looking at her hungrily. Quickly, Asher walks to the back of the bus, where she usually sits. This year though, there was somebody in the seat next to her. By the looks of her, she was a freshman. Just started and already a loner?  Asher took her normal seat and got a better look at the girl. She was ghostly pale, with wide eyes staring right back at Asher like she could see into her soul.
peacefulpurple08 profile picture
💜
by peacefulpurple08
Last post
December 18th
...See more "I'm argumentative and bland, boring and compulsive, conversing with me is a charitable cause. I'm defensive, dense, desperate, frantic, and nostalgic. I'm just a pawn in your game, one that you've won." If only you knew, my sense of self grew, that these words aren't insulting; that you can't touch me, you aren't above me, to you that would be besotting.
anji01 profile picture
You'll be okay
by anji01
Last post
December 14th
...See more Hi everyone! I created a flash fiction inspired by points in our lives when we experience multiple negativities, and all we have to do is look around for that person who can change our perspective in life. I hope you got something to reflect on and be inspired by this. ----- Emil slumped against the cold subway wall, staring at the turnstile that separated him from the platform. His day had been a cascade of minor tragedies—missing his alarm, spilling coffee on his shirt, forgetting to bring lunch. But the breaking point came now; standing at the ticket machine, realizing he was one penny short of a ride home. It was absurd, really. One penny. Yet it unraveled him. He tried to stop the tears, embarrassed by his weakness, but they came anyway, spilling over like a dam that had held back too much for too long. Emil wasn’t just crying over a penny. He was crying over the weight of a life that felt like it was slipping through his fingers, day by day, hour by hour. Crying over the dreams he’d shelved, the goals he’d failed to reach, the nagging thought that he was merely surviving instead of living. “Here,” a voice said gently.  Emil lifted his blurry gaze to a man in a patched coat and worn shoes, who offered a single penny.  Emil hesitated, his pride flaring for a moment. But the man’s expression was so open and sincere that Emil couldn’t refuse. He took the penny with a trembling hand. “Don’t worry. Take it,” the man said with a kind smile before walking away. Emil muttered a shaky thank-you, quickly passing through the turnstile. He didn’t look back. But the man’s gesture stayed with him, a small act of kindness that felt enormous against his despair. Days later, Emil saw the man again on the subway platform. He was chatting with a vendor selling roasted chestnuts, laughing like old friends. Emil noticed how the man moved. He seemed really easygoing like he didn’t have a care in the world, even with his worn-out clothes and tired face. It made Emil feel a bit ashamed; the guy had so little, but he looked genuinely happy. It was odd to see someone with so little who seemed so content while Emil felt weighed down by life. He started noticing the man everywhere—on park benches, whistling while reading a dog-eared book, buying a single flower from a street vendor, then giving it to a child, standing in the rain, face tilted up as if savoring the drops. Emil’s curiosity grew into a habit. He began sitting near the man, silently observing. One day, the man caught him watching. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he asked. Emil glanced at the sky. It was overcast, and the air smelled faintly of garbage from a nearby bin. But the man’s sincerity made Emil pause. “I guess it is,” he replied softly. As weeks passed, they began talking. Emil learned the man’s name was Luis. He worked odd jobs and lived in a shelter, but Luis never complained. Instead, he spoke of sunsets, the warmth of a good meal, and the joy of meeting kind strangers. “You see,” Luis said one day, sitting on their usual park bench, “life doesn’t owe us grand moments. It’s the little ones that keep us going. Like finding a penny when you need it most.” Emil laughed at the memory, but his chest tightened. Later that night, lying in his cramped apartment, Emil thought about Luis’s words. He realized how much time he had spent chasing something undefined—a purpose, a goal, a destination—while ignoring the journey entirely. He thought about his childhood when catching fireflies or eating ice cream on a hot day felt like magic... When had he stopped noticing those moments? Slowly, Emil began to mimic Luis’s attitude. He noticed the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, the smell of fresh bread from a bakery, and the soft glow of streetlights on rainy nights. He began to appreciate the joy of small victories, finding excitement in preparing a delicious meal from scratch and taking pride in neatly folding his laundry. Each little victory became a reason to celebrate, adding a splash of joy to his day. One evening, he pulled out a notebook and wrote down three small joys from his day. A coworker’s kind words. The sweetness of an apple. The subway arrived on time. At first, writing felt unfamiliar, but with time, it transformed into a powerful ritual. Emil found himself looking for moments to write about, scanning his day for beauty, for kindness, for wonder. It wasn’t an immediate transformation. Emil still struggled and felt lost some days. But now, he had anchors—tiny sparks of light to hold onto when the darkness crept in. Months later, Emil passed a stranger at the subway turnstile, fumbling for change. The man looked frustrated, his shoulders sagging. Emil smiled, reached into his pocket, and handed over a penny. “Here,” he said. “You’ll be okay.” As the stranger walked away, Emil glanced around the platform. The air was thick with the usual hum of city life, but tonight, it felt different. Emil felt different. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just surviving. He was living.
RandomKai profile picture
Song I wrote
by RandomKai
Last post
November 29th, 2024
...See more They look at me and dismiss what I am, seeing it as something temporary.   They say it’s just a trend, something that will pass,   But this is a part of me, something that will last for as long as I do But they don’t see the truth, behind my choices, because it’s not a choice When I try to explain, but it’s in vain, can’t hear myself above their voices, saying It’s just temporary  It’s just a trend You're tryna be extraordinary Don't you pretend To be something you're not Can't think my own thoughts Every dismissal feels like a bruise, a constant weight.   Their lack of understanding makes me red in the face   I am more than what they see, beyond their superficial view.   I’m navigating my own path, trying to stay in tune With the music inside Contrast to their own But they just say  Watch your tone Maybe one day they’ll understand the depth of my identity,   This journey isn’t fleeting, it’s a core part of who I am.   I will stand firm in my truth, I’m not being led astray  By their complaints and boredom, this is all they say It’s just temporary  It’s just a trend You're tryna be extraordinary Don't you pretend To be something you're not Can't think my own thoughts Without them judging me  Nudging me, trying to get a reaction And when I finally speak my voice, try to take action They shun me and say It’s all fake You're a girl in this world It’s always the same response everytime  I try and speak my mind They ask me what I'm thinkin Then proceed to answer Their own question As if they know whats going on in my head…  I finally found someone who says… It’s not temporary  It’s not a trend You're extraordinary It’s not pretend Be proud of who you are, always in my heart~ So next time my parents say How much they think i'm faking I'll remember  It’s not temporary  It’s not a trend I am extraordinary It’s not pretend And I’m proud… of who I am  Indefinitely 
Disneywoman profile picture
Fairytale tale villian hasn't meet love interest yet
by Disneywoman
Last post
November 20th, 2024
...See more I'm writing a fairytale novel for National Novel Writing month.   I'm stuck on two problems.    The first problem is that my fairytale villian who is a woman (Matilda) hasn't meet the King Richard's (the main character) love interest (Diana), yet.  There is magic in this word but I don't want to do the magic methods (crystal ball or magic mirror or an hour glass) of the villian spying on Richard and Diana.    I want Diana and the villian to have an in-person meeting.   Then  Matilda can start spying on Diana (not knowing she's Richard's love interest).  The other problem is I want the Matilda to start interfering in the love interests' lives after the villian found out they're love interests  but I can't figure out how do that.  I mean I know where it will end up in some kind of battle of the end but I need to figure out how to start the messing about.    All I have at the moment is I know that Matilda will disguise herself as someone younger but not too young and become King Richard's ward Isabelle's new governess.  
Athena108 profile picture
Love Poetry I wrote randomly
by Athena108
Last post
November 19th, 2024
...See more O stupid heart! Why do you love? When you know that He's never gonna be yours But someone else's. Oh stupid mind! Why do you let? My heart win over When you are sure that She makes no sense. And my dear soul! Why must you bend? To my heart's will and Fall too hard for him In this insane love. How's itttt? Ofc it's not totally random, it's about someone... Luv, <3 Karia_Athena
Dorcas00 profile picture
The art of disappearing
by Dorcas00
Last post
November 5th, 2024
...See more People have a great skill of disappearing when someone needs them the most How many of you agree to it?
peacefulpurple08 profile picture
💜.....
by peacefulpurple08
Last post
October 24th, 2024
...See more I look at the places I've gone past, and paths I've taken, and realize that I've never truly lived. As I stroll down the busy streets of my mind, filled with new buildings and neon signs, I think of all I've been through, and all I have yet to go through. I feel calm knowing that conflict helps me grow, it's turned me into who I am. I once again walk through the same paths, with a sound mind and no regrets. I've learned to cherish those little moments, the ones we so often take for granted. The ones where we are our happiest, and the photos we take are candid. 
darkgreenfrog profile picture
My story so far!
by darkgreenfrog
Last post
October 22nd, 2024
...See more Please read! I am looking for feedback! Chapter 1:               Great, I think as the lights in the underground train flicker off again. I sigh. That’s the third time this trip. I feel a hand on my shoulder. Veel.               “C’mon, Birch. It’s not that bad.” He smiled. I can only bring myself to smile a little. Veel’s deep brown eyes seem to flash as the lights came back on. Veel’s younger sister sits beside him. She is almost as tall as he is, and their dark skin, hair, and eyes match almost exactly.               “Yeah, Birch,” she teased. “You should be glad for the chance of some quality time with your boyfriend.” I sigh again. I don’t really know how to define my relationship with Veel. I never call him my boyfriend. Only other people do that. My relationship with him also made it awkward to be friends with his sister, but she didn’t mind. She has all the social skills I wish I have.               “I just… want to get there as fast as possible.” I say through a sigh. I don’t know why I am so restless. Maybe I just need to be away from home.               “Well, you’re in luck, because we’re here,” Veel said, standing. I stand and follow him. That’s when I notice he’s limping.o               “Veel? Are you okay?” I ask, concerned.               “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just… something that happened yesterday.”               “Why? Where were you yesterday?”               “I… it doesn’t matter.” He looks down. I glance sideways at him, but I leave it alone. I don’t like to butt in. I stand and follow him. His arm clanks slightly, turning a few heads as we walk through the crowded underground station, the metal glinting in the fluorescent lighting. I speed up as the crowds thin out, trying to catch up with him. His right arm touches mine as we walk, the steel cold against my skin. The feeling brings back a flood of memories. Creeping through an enemy base. Hearing him scream. Running toward the sound, not caring whether we lost the war. Finding him lying passed out in a pool of blood, one arm and one ear gone. My Sergeant hitting me across the face for leaving my post. Veel walking out of the surgery room, his new arm gleaming at his side.  I clutch my chest, taking deep breaths to remind me of where I am. Veel is looking at me, concerned. “You okay?” He asks. I nod, still not ready to talk about it. He wraps his arm around me and I stiffen. I wasn’t ready for that. He seems to sense this and pulls away, turning his eyes to the stairs out of the underground. As we walk up the long flight of dirty stairs, I can’t help but think. I dread the moment I have to go home again. My mom is... well… it’s hard to explain. She yelled at my baby brother this morning. Nothing serious. Just the usual, calling him worthless, et cetera, et cetera. She made him cry. This happens almost daily in my house, and the horrible thing is that there are six of us, and as the oldest, I feel responsible. It’s why I get out as soon as I can, and I am literally counting down the days to my birthday. When I turn eighteen, I’ll finally get to move out of our stupid hut, stop going to stupid training, and get my own stupid house. I’m excited. If you couldn’t tell. We finally reach the training center, a gleaming white building that looks out of place among the grimy, scattered dwellings. There is no social class here. No order, barely any law except: ‘your children will start Training at 10. They will begin warfighting at 13. If they are lucky, they’ll get promoted and have less chance of brutally dying’ and that’s basically it. If you don’t send your children to Training or they refuse to go to war, the poor citizens that have been forced into policing will show up at your house, and tiredly force your children to Training at gunpoint. No one fears them. It’s all quite exhausting. Veel and I push open the doors, and squint at the fluorescent light reflecting off the pure white walls. I reach for his hand and squeeze it as we are forced to part ways. I go left, dazedly following the twisting and turning pathways I’ve memorized over the years. I push my way through the halls without bothering to give my name to any of the tired guards. Not that they care. As I finally reach my destination, pushing through the doors into the spy headquarters, my Sergeant glares at me. He knows I didn’t tell anyone my name, and he doesn’t like it. I ignore him, sliding into my desk chair. It’s horribly uncomfortable, and as I slip my SoldierVision 450 onto my head, I struggle to find a comfortable position. Oh well. I’ll be standing in a few minutes anyway. I jump as the words ‘Stealth – Lecture 16.4’ flash before my eyes. Ugh. I was hoping we’d get to do something different today. Stealth comes easily to me. I’m not small, per se, but I’m thin and light on my feet. Not to mention my experience hiding and sneaking away from my mother. All I really want to do right now is take a nap, but I’ve seen too many people get caught to think I could get away with that. Instead, I turn to plan B. Talking to Veel. Last year, Veel, tech savvy that he is, figured out a way to hack the system so I can basically transmit my thoughts from my SoldierVision to his. Don’t ask me how he did it, but it comes in useful. If he can’t talk he’ll ignore me, and then I’ll have to figure something else out.                                                   My eyes shift to a nearly invisible thought bubble at the top right of my screen and I push a button on the top of my headset to select it. Now I can think words and phrases and it will send them to Veel. I orchestrate my first sentence carefully. “Are you as bored as I am?” I sit and wait, painfully counting down from 100. By the time I get to 15 I’m seriously considering napping in my chair. “Birch?” Jeez, I almost peed my pants. “Veel?” “Hey, Birch. Doing stealth again, I’m guessing?” “Yep. What about you? Drills?” “Nope. We’re actually doing something fun today.” He sends me a mental picture of himself jogging through a lush green forest. The forest isn’t real of course, just a clever effect of the SoldierVision. Forests like that don’t exist. “Ugh, I wish I could figure out how you send pictures like that. How do you do it?” “You have to figure it out on your own, Birch.”  “I hate you,”     I thought grumpily. “Love you too.” The conversation screeched to a stop. “Sorry, it was a joke,” Veel thought apologetically. “I know.” Great. Here I thought this was going to be pleasant. I know I should at least be flattered, but it just makes me think about how complicated it would be to have what I want. The lecture ends, but I don’t want to leave this unresolved. So I steel my nerves and take the leap. “I love you too, Veel.” Then I sever the connection. ty everyone!! - Frog
GothamRam profile picture
New here - asking for app/site to start writing
by GothamRam
Last post
October 21st, 2024
...See more Hey there, I'm new here so I'm not sure if this has been discussed before. Just wanted to ask what apps/sites (free or minimal fees) that you recommend I can start writing about my own experiences, life, anything I can think about, etc.?  I'm not a writer nor trained but I've done a few. My purpose is not to publish but just to write and improve my skills, plus it's good for the mindset and positive outlook as they say. I find it therapeutic to write so I want to focus on this. :) Appreciate your recommendations. Thanks!

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