Overthinker storie

They were her sentinels, her saviors, the reason that she refuses to let her past consume her. 𝐆𝐈𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎, a young girl who's never known stability. Raised by a reckless, unstable mother, she spent her childhood caught between drug runs and police raids, ruining her right for a normal childhood. One night when her mother goes missing, Giulia's whole life changes... again. Will being under the guardianship of her new older brothers give her a chance at normalcy in her life or will they cause even more mess than before? Healing isn't easy and trust doesn't come free. ☆ ☆ ☆ As I lied there in the hospital bed with a pounding headache, practically suffocating me while barely conscious, I heard that familiar, raspy, deep, sleep deprived voice that I've recently come to find comfort in. "Nessuno oserà toccarti di nuovo senza perdere le mani, amore," they whispered. (No one will dare touch you again without losing their hands, love.) I felt two hands hold my face with a soft kiss on my forehead. Their rough and large hands a contrast to their gentleness. The comforter over me shuffled as the familiar person brought them up to my chin and tucked me in. "Riposati ora sei al sicuro, bambina," they murmured, stroking my hair. Before I knew it, simply the presence of them reassured me as I felt myself drift off again into a deep sleep. (Rest now, you're safe, baby). ☆ ☆ ☆ 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 (noun): a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream.

Hayashi Nozomi carries a name everyone fears - the daughter of a villain. Haunted by her past, burdened by perfectionism, she struggles to trust anyone... until Katsuki Bakugou refuses to see her as anything but herself. In a school full of heroes, can she find the strength to wield her quirk without losing herself? In a world that wants her to fail, will she learn to trust someone again? Or will the weight of her own perfectionism and past keep her trapped in the shadows forever? "You think I care who your parents are? You're you. That's what matters." The rigths of the Mha storyline belong to Kohei Horikoshi only. Only my Oc is my own idea and everything that doesn't happen during the manga.

I'm just a 14 year old teenage girl that writes her feelings out on paper hoping that they will magically disappear once finished. This isn't a novel, this is a random book where every time I find one of those soaked/enraged pages I will put them here and let whoever's curious enough to waste their time reading them.

the story follows luis, an exchange student from italy as he tries to fit in with american standards, friends and a love interest, alexander, the school jock, hes oddly quiet. throughout the story alexander is in denial as to his sexuality, he, a perfect example of a man, the star player, he cant be gay. it would ruin his image, his reputation. how will the story unfold in 5 months of the exchange year?

A young boy learning to love through difficult relationships, and one factor stays consistent.

Fancying someone feels like a quiet rebellion. This story lives between truth and fantasy- where one chapter is real, and the rest are the dreams I built to survive it. It's not about what happened. It's about what I wished could.

This collection of poetry digs deeper into exploring loss of friends, relationships, and depression while trying to heal and overcome all of it. . . A collection of poetry compiled of every thought that creeps in the night and more. . . I will ask for patience for completion of this book as it reflects experiences and moments in my own life. This is a part two to a collection of poetry published on amazon.

The beauty of love in the form of silence and admiration that was experienced by a girl. * If Only * also involves the thoughts and actions of the girl and how it impacted her life. It shows her prayers, wants, needs and intentions. Every saying meant true to her but all she wanted to do was protect herself. Her action of self protection impacted her.

Do you remember the story about Sleeping Beauty that was cursed to sleep and trapped in castle with thorns of 🌹 🥀. A romantic story where the princess lives with curiosity and longs for outside world and love... When the Prince was the one need to go across the thorns. Now,imagine...you're having the same experience like the Prince, but with a little twist.

🔞✴️အမှောင်လိုင်းမို့ နှစ်သက်မှ ဖတ်ပါ။

We don't talk. We don't follow each other. But he's always there-two steps ahead in the hallway, one glance too long in class. He acts like he doesn't care. I act like I never did. And yet... we both hesitate, like the silence between us means something. This isn't a love story. A real-life bad WiFi, shared classrooms, and zero confessions. He's 19. I'm 17 - legally . We don't make sense-except when we do. Or maybe... this is what "almost" feels like. Based on a true story. (Unfortunately.)

Some believe in fate while some think it's just another antiquated topic for people who lost hope in their life. Punnagai, strongly believed in fate unlike Anil who was always trying to find logic in it- both their worlds were poles apart yet somehow similarly familiar to each other at the same time. Despite their worlds being poles apart like the north and south poles there were similarities she couldn't hate. Punnagai was a girl minding her own life until she bumped into Anil, who turned her life upside down in both comforting and questionable ways. She never expected her to be in love with him- a person who thought love was just fictional that just sounds good in movies and books. She was a shy, loving and empathetic person while he was an outgoing, cold & calculated yet eager person to learn new things. Their interactions started during their high school days with some forced proximity, random but questionable coincidences, his actions that made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy, and how his actions towards her made her feel special. She knew he was never in love with her yet fate had other plans for them. Their story was once a fairytale descending upon earth which turned into a cruel reality- harsher and stranger than fiction could ever have been because it was life, never a story written by angels. In the drafts from- 4th July, 2025 Published on- 5th February, 2026 Ended on-

😮‍💨😶‍🌫️

a collection of poems and reflections written in the quiet hours when the world sleeps and the heart speaks louder.

It is not about trauma or healing but the space in between. Thoughts that have been quiet for too long. If you ever felt unheard , unseen , misunderstood.. This is for you as much as it is for me <3

A collection of thoughts, whispers, and moments caught in words. These poems are my heart, pain, and despair spilt on pages. In this, you'll find pieces of me, perhaps no one else has. I hope you never feel this way, and I certainly hope you don't relate. 🥀

NEEDS EDITING After a fifteen year girl is raped by an acquaintance of hers, she has to learn to adapt to the changes that this has made in her life. "Everyone has a choices to make. These were the ones I made." • A/N: This is a very short story! This story has many time lapses. Warning⚠️: It contains mentions of sexual violence and mature content If you are okay with that then please continue reading. If not DO NOT READ! without further ado, let the story begin! [Predicted word count: 30,000 - 65,000]

"when he looks at me I forget how to breathe. his curly hair, almond eyes, nose.... he smiles so adorably- AH what am I doing? His not that cute is he?" That was Our Female lead's perspective of HIM for a few time Until....

In a world where nothing lasts, what happens when someone refuses to let go? Someone who sees through your mask, stays even when they leave, and meets you at your lowest. What is love, if it comes in many forms - not all of them easy to recognize? What is family, if not chosen? How far can you go when you are truly seen, accepted, and allowed to be yourself? This is not the kind of romance you think it is.

This is simply a review of a misstep. I spent a year caught in a recursive loop of my own making, writing rules for how to think, and then rules for how to verify those rules, until the basic act of having a thought became overly complicated. It wasn't poetic; it was mostly just administration.