Petrichor || The Beginning
- LECTURAS 171
- Votos 40
- Partes 8
Continúa16m
Última publicación vie, abr 29, 2022
petrichor (n.) - a pleasent smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather
Welcome to The Silenced Dreamers!
Petrichor is just a glance into this amazing society - an introduction to the idea, to the different fun activities and to us! Here you will find the concepts, the rules and everything you want to know.
We intend to create a safe space for all. A place where you feel comfortable in your skin. A place where even though your words might fail you but we won't.
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Únete a la comunidad narrativa más grandeObtén recomendaciones personalizadas de historias, guarda tus favoritas en tu biblioteca, y comenta y vota para hacer crecer tu comunidad.
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Bedroom Whispers
The bedroom holds sacred territory for me. The bed, its altar. One upon which I've offered sacrifices, so many to count and recall. One upon which I currently lay as I once more pay my dues, in taps and clicks. I miss the days when the gods were content with the strokes and curves of the fluid dispenser. They seemed to have joined the fast-lane train, and thus demand new meals. While I lay down and hit the keys with a mystic rhythmic sway, I hear the sounds as they hit my ears. No. They're not forceful. Not now, at least. Like music from the slow strumming of a guitar, these sounds bring messages. And memories. And musings. And a medley, sometimes. And so it is, that I'm made to scribe. For when gods speak, their words are immortal. Oh. Wait. They're just thoughts. I thought as much.Concluida
Silent Love
(Tom Holland x Reader) (A Quiet Place x Reader) Three months.... That's all it took. The worlds population of humans and animals gone.. Wiped out by a creature of unknown origin. All anybody knew at the time were the spaceships that descended from black smog like clouds. All anybody saw were the large physical objects falling from the ships, hundreds if not thousands of large bodies of horrifying creatures. Sightless creatures that no one lived long enough to tell about. Well that's what everyone thought. But there were people that survived when they learned the key to their survival, To be... Absolutely... SILENT... Once the secret was out the world fell into a dead silence, mostly because there wasn't anything or anyone; left to make noise.. Few survived but those who did lived in total silence. No one knew who was left alive or if they were the only one left. Yet there was a family, a family who's survived through taking precautions and pulling up ideas that made there lives silent and safe. The Abbott family... The Abbott family consisted of a father, Lee Abbott, a mother Evelyn Abbott, two brothers whom go by Marcus and Beau Abbott And two sisters Regan and Y/N Abbott. Eighteen years of age.. E/c eyes. H/c shoulder blade length hair, held back by a ear warmer headband. S/c toned skin soft to the touch except wear the skin had been roughed by falling or rough yard and house work. You lived with your family happily. Despite the conditions and dangers in the world, you were happy with your family. You survived because of your father. He fortified the farm where you and your family lived. You thought you couldn't be happier; yet after a series of positive or negative events; would that positive demeanor change? Number 1 in #aquiteplace December 2018 Number 1 in #aquiteplace October 2021Concluida
SAMENESS
/// SAMENESS, WHAT WE STRIVED FOR SO LONG TO ACHIEVE. BUT WHAT IF YOU'RE DESTINED TO BE DIFFERENT? \\\ Nine months of Hibernation, three months of being awake--that's how the year goes for us. Half of us wake up tired and sore while all of us wake up smelling of either lotion or bleach. But during the nine month period of hibernation, I woke up. And now I know why I always wake up sore and reeking of bleach. ⥀ Humans have always strived for equality, for everyone to be treated equal. We finally reached the point of this harmony, this level of sameness--and everyone is happy. Many, many generations later. But what happens when, in a wold of people knocked down and stood up to be exactly alike, a person wants to be different? What if they're destined to be unique in a world of strict equality? ⥀ #10 in Scifi on 7/21/17 MADE IT TO ROUND 3 IN THE WRITERS OLYMPICS Now available as a paperback and ebook. [[word count: 65,000-70,000]]Concluida
Petals full of thought
All my thoughts in jumbled up words, scrambled and mixed stanzas, Slightly dusted in deep mindful thinking that keeps me up at 4 am watching the sun rise Trigger warning some have to do with Depression,Self harm, eating disorders,and the Dark truths that lie beyond the silver lining of a smile and what those around you show and keep insideConcluida
It (#Wattys2016)
| 1st Place for Summer Sun Awards (Beginner's Firsts) | | 2nd Place for the Pinpoint Awards | | Finalist for the 2016 Awards | It matters not what people think regarding things you believe strongly in. Perhaps, it may even help to even spread a word or two regarding what dwells within you. Don't be afraid of the thoughts you believe are truly nonsensical. They always have a place somewhere, and for me, these are a collection of the "It"s inside my brain. Thank you for dropping by.Concluida
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Breaking the rules (SCP-049 x reader)
Growing up you were smart. Took care of yourself, focused in school, and helped others when you could. Sadly, despite how well-liked you could have been, you weren't very popular, a regular bullying target. Your love life? Sad really, you had been used so much in your short lifetime, you don't do dating anymore. Guess focusing in school wasn't so smart, huh? Now you are 25 and your father is getting you a job. When you were younger you didn't know much about his job, but you did know he was important. He offered you a job at the SCP foundation, how fun. You're worried but are ready to do your best. Your father has taught you about a few of them for safety but... the more you learn about them the more scared you start to get. But at least a few of them are nice. Right?Concluida
Don't Make A Sound (Laughing Jack X Reader)
After witnessing the horrible murders of your parents at the age of 7, you haven't been the same since. You become a mute, shutting yourself out from the world, not doing much. The only company you have are the voices in your head and books. Reading became one thing you loved to do, as well as music. When you finally turn (your age), your adoptive parents try to cheer you up by taking you to the library. Once you get there, you feel a pair of eyes on you. After a week of being paranoid of everyone and everything, your foster parents go on a business trip. You know that whoever is after you, will attack soon. Will you survive the attack? Who has been watching you and what do they want with you?Concluida
![Petrichor [j.j.k]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/57937540-256-k466260.jpg)
The bedroom holds sacred territory for me. The bed, its altar. One upon which I've offered sacrifices, so many to count and recall. One upon which I currently lay as I once more pay my dues, in taps and clicks. I miss the days when the gods were content with the strokes and curves of the fluid dispenser. They seemed to have joined the fast-lane train, and thus demand new meals. While I lay down and hit the keys with a mystic rhythmic sway, I hear the sounds as they hit my ears. No. They're not forceful. Not now, at least. Like music from the slow strumming of a guitar, these sounds bring messages. And memories. And musings. And a medley, sometimes. And so it is, that I'm made to scribe. For when gods speak, their words are immortal. Oh. Wait. They're just thoughts. I thought as much.
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