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What are you currently reading?
by tommy
Last post
2 days 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}
Reading & Writing Automated Taglist!
by tommy
Last post
2 days ago
...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
Random Thread
by Katharsis22
Last post
Sunday
...See more Hello there. What is this? Just like the title indicates: it's a random thread. Well, I might use this to post some writings of mine... or my random gibberish. Guess it will be more fitting to add this to the Journal / Diary forum, or maybe not. I do journal(?) already, just not publicly, not entirely at least, of-course- Anyway, any of you cybernetic passers-bys are welcome to read or/and share your thoughts. Not like I can prevent you anyway, this is accessible to the public. Haha. But yes, if you're looking for some space to share some things and you don't have a thread or don't want to create one of your own for any reason, you can post here. ☆Enjoy the incoming stochastic chaos of textual expression.(:
Song I wrote
by RandomKai
Last post
Friday
...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 
💜
by peacefulpurple08
Last post
November 23rd
...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.
Fairytale tale villian hasn't meet love interest yet
by Disneywoman
Last post
November 20th
...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.  
Love Poetry I wrote randomly
by Athena108
Last post
November 19th
...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
The art of disappearing
by Dorcas00
Last post
November 5th
...See more People have a great skill of disappearing when someone needs them the most How many of you agree to it?
My Story
by BlueMangocat5071
Last post
October 29th
...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."
💜.....
by peacefulpurple08
Last post
October 24th
...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. 
My story so far!
by darkgreenfrog
Last post
October 22nd
...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
New here - asking for app/site to start writing
by GothamRam
Last post
October 21st
...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!
How to get feedback?
by BlueMel
Last post
September 24th
...See more I am trying to create a comic but I'm doing it alone, how do you get feedback? I'm not a very social person so I dont have many people that will listen to me ramble about it. And often it's very surface level feedback I receive. I have a lot of ideas but it would be useful to see how other people interpret it. Thoughts? Thanks!
Writing Exercise?
by Psyphire
Last post
September 23rd
...See more I don't have a title for this piece. Just wrote down whatever came to mind for an hour. Suggestions are welcome. Hope it is a little enjoyable. The vast valley is vacant and silent, save the distant hoot of an owl. No sign of the Rabbits, deer and foxes that would normally roam the fields. Not a single bird in the sky. Nothing around for miles except snow covered ground, and a gentle snowfall was all that remained from the blizzard that just subsided.  With a groan, a woman emerges from the abandoned fox hole where they sheltered the storm and begins trudging ever so slowly in the knee high snow. She is wrapped in an old puffy snowsuit, although large, it is patched in multiple places and is barely keeping her warm. In the distance was the ice capped peak of a single massive crescent shaped mountain that was her destination. Today would be her only chance to reach Mound's Mountain. The icy snow makes her hands and feet burn with a painful numbing effect. She fights to stumble along as fast and as far as she can, despite tears running from her emerald green eyes.   She finally reaches the foot of the mountain and the small cave that leads into its depths. She coughs up a bit of blood, she had little time to admire the scenery. It is surprisingly dry inside; the crisp clean air is soothing to her otherwise numb senses. An inviting breeze comes from within. She loses her footing many times on the sloped floors. The path splits, looking to the walls she finds some ancient writing. It is rather long and verbose, but listed the exact path she would need to take. Going deeper her eyes strain to see anything in the ever increasing darkness, and has to rely on her already weakened sense of tough. Soon the rocks and dirt beneath her feet became flatter and easier to traverse as she meandered even deeper into the maze. It was now so dark, the only way she could navigate was from the sporadic ancient markings on the wall that told her she was going the right way.  An hour in, the floors became even and stable and she could feel the cobblestone beneath her. Torches on the walls flickered to life. before her. The hallway before her had seen better days, the tapestries on the walls and the red carpet on the floors were covered in a thick layer of dust. The marble floors beneath her feet had not seen a mop or wax in nearly a millennium. Even the ornate wooden doors at the far end of the hall was clearly in need of repair with one askew on its hinges and the other missing its knocker.  In the center of the room beyond the doors is a tiny marble pedestal with an oddly massive crystal moon sitting on top of it. This crystal is the ancient altar of the moon goddess. “I am Melora, Luna of the Blood Crescent City.” A woman appears on top of the crystal. Her long silver hair covers her entire form save a single pitch black eye gazing into her soul with venom. “Yes. Your city and their neighbors are full of traitors. They have killed many of my blessed in rebellion to me.” “I am not here to atone for their sins. I seek a blessing.” “You wish to have me bless you? Your body is so weak” “I have made my way to the most remote altar of the continent in this ‘weak’ vessel.” “Your determination and resolve are noted. But that is not enough a reason for me to choose for you a blessing” “I have already been chosen by you!” Mystica opens her hand to show an intricate scar in the shape of a fan. She gazes into the mark on her hand “Yes I recognize this mark. I had my love curse this mark to protect the person it was bestowed to. Seems like it worked, barely.” “Cursed?” “This mark that labels you an Alpha is the mark of a special Vulpine. Had you had a blessing, your 'people' would have killed you the second you transformed at 8 years old.” “You mean 18?” “Werefoxes are a little… special in how they operate.”  “So I will have a lot of catching up to do then?” “You amuse me. I can see why you were chosen. Come for your blessing.”

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