Prise قصص

A deeply intimate, soul-aching memoir of a connection that was everything - except spoken aloud. Set against the backdrop of workplace halls, late-night smoke sessions, and unspoken glances, this story follows a Libra man who meets an Aquarius man - both tethered by circumstances, but drawn together by gravity. He was engaged. A father. A man living two lives - one he chose, and one he was terrified to admit he wanted. What begins as casual friendship slowly becomes an emotional slow burn - filled with flirtation, tension, unexplainable jealousy, playful fights, secret moments, and quiet comfort. He never said the words. But his actions whispered them loud enough to keep hope alive. It was like standing at the edge of a ride I never agreed to board - watching the highs, the drops, the loops from the safety of the gate, but feeling every twist in my chest anyway. I never buckled in, never gave a ticket, never said, "Let's go." But somehow, I lived every turn like I had. The thrill, the ache, the confusion - it all hit me just the same. And by the time it stopped, I was dizzy from a journey I never even took. Every moment - from hiding backpacks and locking freezer doors, to conversations in the dark and watching movies under the guise of platonic affection - paints the portrait of a connection so real, it almost feels imagined. This is not a typical love story. There is no happy ending tied in a bow. No grand declarations. No closure, really. But there is growth. It's a story of almosts. Of learning how to let go of something that never quite began - but somehow changed everything. It's about the ache of being "the one who knew," and the bravery of loving someone without needing to be chosen back. A hauntingly beautiful portrait of emotional intimacy, queer longing, and the invisible bonds that shape us. This is a love letter to everyone who's ever had to grieve a relationship that didn't officially exist - but felt more real than anything else.

Une femme en fuite, un homme en cavale ils vont se detester et pourtant ..

A poem about the mental anguish of coping with Depression and Anxiety

Malas. That's how Miguel will describe his life right now. Having the dorm to himself, living the best life anyone from any UW students could ask for, Miguel was pretty content with the life he has. In spite of the issue behind his handsome face, he continues to go on. Not only to himself, but to his father, too. Not until his landlady decided that the privilege bestowed upon him has already expired. Now, he has to live with someone else in his dorm. Miguel doesn't agree immediately but fate has other plans for his life. Estranged from his own mother and two siblings, he buried the damn he once had and had the worst times with Primo, the new dorm mate of his. Malas. Each day passing by with Primo Villonco is a new version of hell to Migs. He forgot how to act with people around in your room all the time but he can't push the new student away. Slowly, but surely, he managed to get used to it; though, not knowing why his once hard-like-steel heart is starting to soften for the person after a few months. Behind every pointless act Primo had done for him, he failed to see the objective why Primo's trying to bring back the old Miguel he once buried. Once Primo succeeded in prising that soft part of Miguel's heart, what would happen? Will Miguel tolerate more of his doings or just spit him out, finally realizing the damage Primo could inflict on him?

This is a tale in prose and rhymes about whatever I see fit. Definitely gay. Definitely trashy. This might switch from english to french to italian, only tine and willpower will tell.

"I'm letting go of your hands, that once paired to mine." -Claudette Louca Saitern @Jeiara

«Mon sort était entre tes mains... Caroline...» Une larme met du temps pour couler sur la joue. Une larme sucré, comme le sang, il existe plusieurs types de larmes. Les larmes sincères, venant de personnes sincères. Les larmes de plaisir, intermédiaire des larmes de joie. Les larmes de joie, quand la vie nous sourit, que l'on retrouve quelqu'un de chère à nos yeux par exemple. Les larmes de souffrance physique, lorsque quelqu'un nous fais du mal de l'extérieur. Les larmes intérieur, souvent de celui ou celle qui se voile la face en disant que tout va bien. Les larmes de la peur de perdre. Mais les pires de toutes, celle qui sont du à une souffrance physique, moral et mental, celle que l'on doit cacher, les nuits entières, recroquevillé sur notre lit, une main sur la bouche pour ne pas faire de bruit, le sanglots qui nous étouffe. Sont celles les plus insupportable, les plus secrète et celle qui nous force à nous enfermé dans une prison de glace ; à l'intérieur même de notre âme, cœur, et esprit. Celles que nous n'arrivons pas à battre seul. Mais qui nous empêche d'aller voir quelqu'un pour nous aider. Ces larmes là détruisent l'humanité, l'estime de soi. Notre vie.

A mystery ninja who wants to be known As powerful one and to have that wish she has to defeat the black ninja and won the prize.

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