Historias de Creativewriting

Poetry is the easiest way of expression for some like me, not only experiences but feelings. This book is a set of poems about feelings, experiences and thoughs that linger in my mind day and night. There's letters too that will never reach the eyes of those who they're intended for, though some are just based on emotion. I write because I hope that someone comes across this and thinks "hey this is relatable". Some may resonate with experiences that awaken sacred fragments of memories, or some may just deeply impact. I write because that's the easiest way I can express any feelings. I write for fun, for love and for awareness on certain topics. All poems and letters are original by me :) Most aren't aimed at anyone specific, but just product of my imagination.

A one-shot story collaboration with @vskalsi Cover credits: @vskalsi

Fear is one of the most powerful emotions a human can experience. It hides behind our doubts, our memories, and sometimes even behind our silence. This poem reflects the quiet battles we fight within ourselves - the moments when fear stands in front of us like a long corridor with no clear end. But sometimes, fear is not only something that breaks us. It can also become the very thing that teaches us courage. Through this poem, Zunera Afzal tries to express the darkness, the mystery, and the emotional depth that fear can bring into a person's life. Written by: Zunera Afzal

There is a specific kind of silence that settles just after midnight-a quiet so deep it begins to hum. This is where the stories live. Whispering Voids is a curated gallery of moments, memories, and "what-ifs." It is a home for the stories that refused to stay in the back of my mind and the free-writes that captured a feeling before it could slip away. From the ethereal to the grounded, these chapter-long journeys don't offer neat bows or final goodbyes. Instead, they leave you standing at the edge of the void, wondering what happens next. Step into the deep green. Stay as long as you like. Some stories aren't meant to end; they're just meant to be felt.

In 1950s Alabama, Mary, an African American teen, desperately tries to help her friends leave an orphanage run by a cruel and racist couple: the Fletchers. One night, she meets Charlie, a white Yankee who happens to be from New York, located up North. Soon, the two orphans team up and plan their escape, while learning that despite their color, they're not so different. Will they be able to lead their friends out of the orphanage before the Fletchers' heinous plot or will it be too late to escape the past and see the future? Warning⚠️ : Some chapters contain violence and mature topics that may not be suitable for children under 13

My poetry begins with three words. I often ask people to give me three random words, simple ones, strange ones, words that normally would never belong together. From those small beginnings, I build entire worlds. Each poem is an act of imagination. The words become seeds, and the poem grows around them. Sometimes the result is quiet and reflective, sometimes surreal or playful, sometimes deeply emotional. The challenge is not just to use the words, but to let them guide the direction of the story, the feeling, and the atmosphere of the poem. I like the idea that something meaningful can grow from almost nothing. Three small words can open a forest, a memory, a dream, or a moment of connection. In this collection, every poem begins the same way: with three words offered by someone else, and an imagination that refuses to leave them small.

Destiney fresh in college, learning to be the therapist she always dreamed to be, but one day after taking her best friend Noami home. Destiney accidentally learns her family's secret. Learning how her magic works and the true history of her family she must choose between that therapist or learn the magic and stop evil from taking over this world (This is like a series)

This is a heartfelt collection of my work over the years, showcasing a blend of short stories, spontaneous pieces, and poems. From moments of inspiration to raw, unpolished drafts, this collection captures the journey of my writing-both the triumphs and the stumbles. It's a catalogue of growth, experimentation, and passion, offering a glimpse into my evolution as a writer. Whether you find beauty in the imperfections or resonate with the raw honesty, I hope this collection speaks to you in its own unique way. ©2025

Yeah 👍 Stuff from my creative writing class. The cover is ugly semi-on-purpose

Every morning, Papanti wakes to smoke, brew coffee, and feed a hungry dragon-calf. Between fog, dreams, and absurd conversations, the line between reality and story grows dangerously thin. ☕ A daily, poetic slice-of-life fantasy - whimsical, warm, and quietly strange. -After finally cobbling together a couple of half-baked, supposedly eco-friendly solutions-still in need of plenty of testing before they could truly earn that label-the group reconvenes at base camp to plan their next decisive "strike."-

Hell is loud. Not metaphorically loud. Screaming-loud, neon-loud, engine-backfire-loud. Every vice amplified, every regret echoing off red brick and broken halos. For most sinners, the noise is outside. For (y/n), it's inside. Before death, (y/n) had been a radio archivist and investigative audio journalist, obsessed with lost broadcasts and urban legends that only existed at odd AM frequencies. Their last pursuit was "The Smiling Frequency," a mysterious signal hijacking stations for exactly 66 seconds, always ending with a warm male voice laughing softly: "Stay tuned." The chase consumed them. They tracked it across decades, tracing coordinates that shouldn't exist, discovering recordings that whispered back. One night, alone in their studio, they finally isolated the signal. And, when they asked "Who are you?" the broadcast answered. The studio burned before sunrise. Now, (y/n) wakes in Hell with smoke on their tongue, expecting demons and deals. They do not expect a familiar voice drifting from the hotel lobby radio: "Well now! You took your time." This story follows (y/n) as they navigate Hell, unravel why the Radio Demon seems to know them, and uncover the mystery behind the signal that didn't just call-they were listening back. Because the last time (y/n) tuned in... they weren't just hearing. They were answering. Note: Yes, the cover is AI generated, the website said that it would mean more people would read this. I honestly think it looks meh, but whatever. Sorry for breaking the fourth wall! :D

A little universe made of characters who showed up in my brain and refused to leave. This is where I keep them all - the soft ones, the chaotic ones, the heartbreakers, the healers, the ones who feel too real at 2 a.m. Think of this book as a moodboard in motion: backstories, aesthetics, drama, and all the little details that make my OCs breathe. Welcome to the chaos. Welcome to the cast.

. Started : March 12, 2026 Ended: - © @whimsicalbbydoll

Maya never believed in office romances. For her, work and personal life were two separate worlds that should never mix. Life was already complicated with a long-distance relationship and the responsibilities of her job. Everything was predictable, controlled, and safe-until the day she noticed him. It started with something small. A quiet man in the office who greeted everyone with a warm smile... except her. At first, Maya barely paid attention. They worked in different departments and had no reason to interact. But somehow, his presence lingered in her mind. Months later, when he was transferred to her department, their conversations began-simple, professional, and brief. Nothing unusual. Or so she thought. A casual goodbye in her cabin, teasing remarks from colleagues, and whispers that he looked at her more than he should. Maya ignored it all. To her, these were insignificant moments. But life has a strange way of turning ordinary moments into unforgettable memories. After an accident forced him away from the office for months, their paths slowly began to cross again. This time, not inside the office but on the quiet streets between their homes and the workplace. Every morning and evening, they walked the same thirty-minute road together. At first, it was just a routine. A shared path. Simple conversations to pass the time. But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, those walks became something more-laughter, teasing, glances, and feelings neither of them dared to fully acknowledge. Maya knew the rules she had always lived by. She had a boyfriend. He was her colleague. Lines should never be crossed. Yet somewhere between the office and home, between small talks and quiet silences, their hearts began drifting toward something neither of them had planned. Sometimes love doesn't arrive with grand confessions. Sometimes it begins quietly... between two people walking side by side.

i write some stuff poems yay just about my head

Textiles is a collection of the tangible--threads you can hold and turn in your hand. It explores gothic betrayal, dignity, history, and the ache found within uncovering truths. These objects carry beauty, but within their hidden seams lies the heart of this series.

Not every wound bleeds. Some of them wake up with you every morning. Blooming Through the Ache is a collection of poems for those who learned how to survive before they ever learned how to live. These verses sit in the heaviness of ordinary days-the exhaustion that lingers after sleep, the dreams postponed by responsibility, the quiet ache of feeling detached from your own life. This book is not about healing overnight. It is about waking up anyway. About carrying pain without being consumed by it. About growing in places where light rarely reaches. Written for anyone who feels worn down, unseen, or stuck in a life that doesn't quite feel like theirs, these poems offer companionship rather than answers. A reminder that even in the deepest ache, something within you is still breathing, still resisting, still becoming. This is for the tired hearts. The silent fighters. The ones who blooms, even when it hurt.

ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ :- ɪɴᴋ & ᴇᴄʟɪᴘꜱᴇ... ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ:- ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ... ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ʜᴇ... ɪɴᴋ & ᴇᴄʟɪᴘꜱᴇ ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀ 21-ʏᴇᴀʀ-ᴏʟᴅ ʙᴏʏ ꜱɪᴛꜱ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴀ ʙᴜʀɴᴛ-ᴏᴜᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴇᴛʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛ. ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴘᴏᴇᴍꜱ... ᴡᴇʟʟ... ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʀᴇ... ʙᴜᴛ ᴍᴏꜱᴛʟʏ... ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ... ʜᴇ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴏᴡɴ... ɪɴ ɪɴᴋ... ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴄʟɪᴘꜱᴇ... ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ...

King Oropher rules a kingdom where the rich grow richer and the poor grow poorer. As disease and orcs ravage the lower classes, young Prince Thranduil makes it his mission to rebuild Mirkwood. Through the eyes of his friends, from orphans to nobles, Thranduil walks where no king has yet walked before. Fourth in Nin Chronicles. 1st place winner of the Crooked Awards 2021. Note: It is not necessary to read the previous three Nin Chronicles books to appreciate My Prince, but reading My Lord, My Greenleaf, and My Word will give you a deeper understanding of this tale. Oropher, Thranduil, Mirkwood, and Middle Earth: copyright credit to J.R.R Tolkien. All other characters and locations belong to me. Cover Copyright: Artwork to artist; text added by me.

In a world of chrome, candy paint, and lowriders riding slow, there's always someone capturing the moment. He doesn't chase fame or applause. He moves quietly through the crowd-camera in hand-turning culture into art. Knightstalker is a tribute to the man behind the lens, the one who captures legends frame by frame. 📸🚘