Latenights Stories

"I tried writing a love song once. It turned into a weather report." "I wrote a thriller that accidentally became a lullaby." "We're not great at sticking to genre, huh?" In a fluorescent-lit convenience store tucked between midnight and memory, Jina navigates the quiet chaos of restocked ramen, unsolicited encouragement, and a niece with a flair for matchmaking. When Han-part-time customer, full-time mystery-returns with tangerines and a question about her writing, the walls Jina's built around herself begin to shift. What starts as banter over banana milk and genre confusion slowly unfolds into something tender, tentative, and real. [#2 in store]

I put down poetry for two years because at the time I was only writing it because I had to for school. Two years later though, and through mountains of heartache and pain, I began to write and write and write mountains upon mountains of poetry. I never appreciated it before, but now as I write these poems, I find that I fall more and more in love with the language. I should warn, these poems will not be entirely contemporary. They will read more narratively as that's just how I like to write, but there will be poems that will fit the norm sprinkled in, so brew some fresh tea and enjoy.

Nasko doesn't sleep much. Not because he's busy - but because nights make him honest. This diary isn't meant to be read. It's filled with late-night thoughts, half-burned cigarettes, restless silence, and truths that only come out after midnight. No heroes. No promises. Just a boy, the dark, and the things he can't say out loud. This book isn't about getting better. It's about being awake. Nasko's Late Night Diary is a private journal of nights spent overthinking, smoking, and sitting with thoughts that refuse to disappear. Read it slowly. Read it late. Or don't read it at all.

Cute-💛 Spicy-🌶️ Tbh I don't know what I'm writing yet.

Main character has been through a lot. She wants to forget but the best way to forget is to remember and write it down. These are her stories.

Its not everyday that you happen to bump into an interesting neighbour. But when you do, do you think all equations still remain the same? Uh huh, few things definitely change and thats how a writer like me gets to write a new love story all over again :)

When the first snow falls, she feels it-not just in the air, but in her chest. The cold isn't just weather this year; it's a reminder. Of love once held. Of warmth now gone. After a heartbreaking goodbye, saisha is left facing the harshest season of her life alone. The quiet streets, the empty bed, the untouched mug across the table - everything whispers his name. As winter deepens, memories begin to thaw what's been buried inside: the love they shared, the pain of their parting, and the question that keeps her awake at night... Can a heart survive the cold when the one it beats for is no longer near? "Winter Without You" is a tender, soul-stirring romance about heartbreak, healing, and the kind of love that lingers like snow on the windowsill - even after it's gone.

"Most nights I can't help but feel trapped at home so I come out here. Don't really know why I just know being here gives me some relief from everything.... The calm never last though." Louis is a young boy looking for an escape in the darkness that surrounds him. It's in his quest for solitude that he is met with Harry, a lost soul with no direction. Where will the darkness take them? Honestly don't know what direction (lol) to take this fic. All I know if that I was craving a soft Louis, older Harry fic and couldn't find one that meet my needs. So what better way to do it than by myself. This is the first story I've ever worked on so feel free to write any suggestions of where to take this story or any thing you wanna add.

Poetic prompts written by an Insomniac under the influence of Caffeine. 🏆Versification 23 Grand Winner for Word Poetry🏆 🏅Winning Entries: 🥇Tranquil 🥇Kaput 🥇Obligation 🏅Runner up Entries: 🥈 Penalty 🥈 Construct 🥈 Coffee

❝Can you be the grease to my bacon?❞ ❝I found that equally touching and disturbing that I don't know which side to buy.❞ ❝Well... the touching side is better.❞ - warning: this story may create wrinkles due to excessive cringing. read at your own risk. prequel to In Another Call cover by @fartette

Some stories begin in silence. Some names are never spoken. But they stay anyway.

𝐂𝐥𝐞́𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲.

The cover art was lovingly done by the wonderful Clarenze Singhson! Two Pokémon return home after a relaxing and fun day at a neighboring town. Despite being late at night, it seems that neither of them can sleep, so they eventually give up in order to spend some more quality time together~ A lil' something I wrote for one of the Pokémon Workshop's writing contests! Feels nice to finish a new fic after a long time, hope you enjoy!

Fiddling pencil. Thinking thoughts. English scribbles of words. Songs of thought. Spoken words whispered into the night From a contemplating, sleepless soul. The Thinking Thoughts of a Stubbornly Open Minded Young Woman

Just imagine your Alessio Scalzottos girlfriend. Hope you all enjoy

This book isn't for everyone! If things like panic attacks or self-image upset you, please do not read this! This is simply some poems I am working on. I'm not really a writer so please don't come at me!! If there's anything I can do to improve my writing please let me know! I aim to impress someone out there. Anyways thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope to come out with more work soon!

In the quiet hours between midnight and dawn,a night-shift worker named Hanbin finds his routine interrupted by a silent stranger who steps into his convenience store and into his life.Hao is distant, weighed down by sleepless nights and invisible pressure,but something about Hanbin's warmth makes him stay.What begins as fleeting encounters during lonely hours slowly unfolds into something deeper:a fragile but healing bond between two souls who never knew how much they needed to be seen.A story of quiet connection,unspoken pain,and the gentle beginning of something like hope.

Just an essay about my sad life.

Here is some of the things I think about at night. I write all of these at like 3am with my redbull enduced self so don't judge Lolkbye

" I have looked over you your whole life, who knew we would end up here? "