Not Your Average Nigerian Girl
- Reads 68
- Votes 35
- Parts 10
Ongoing40m
Last published Sat, May 30, 2026
Dear God, it's me again I know it's been so long but I'm here now Lord, I learnt today that you care about me and that you are very intentional about my thoughts and my needs. Why do you love me?,why did you send your son to die for me?, why are you listening to me right now?, why aren't you ignoring me like everybody else,why do you care about me, I have so much to tell you. I feel so confused and depressed, I can't bring myself to be happy. I need peace in my live. Help me to love my sister and my friends. I need peace in my family. Help my parents to love each other and love me. Help me to find happiness and peace in you. Help me to love you. All this I ask in Jesus Name.Amen.
My name is Tinuola Adetiorebo, not your average Nigerian girl who hopes someday to be free and far away from everything and then there is Praise who seems to have everything figured out even though he doesn't. What happens when their words collide?
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#196
depression
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Innocent Disguise
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အန်ကယ်ရဲ့ကောင်လေး(Uncle's Boy)[Completed ]
"ယောက်ျားလေးတစ်ယောက် ဖြစ်ပေမယ့် ဦးရဲ့သွေးသားမို့...ဒီအသက်ကိုကျွန်တော့်အသက်နဲ့လဲပြီးကျွန်တော်မွေးဖွားမယ်'' သုဝဏ္ဏငယ် "ကိုယ်ရှိနေသမျှ မင်းကို ဘယ်သူမှ အပြစ်ပြောပိုင်ခွင့်မရှိဘူး... ခက်ခဲတဲ့လမ်းဆို ကိုယ်ရှေ့ကသွားမယ် ခက်ခဲတာရှိရင် ကိုယ်ပဲ ခါးစီးခံမယ်'' ဘုန်းကံမြင့် "ေယာက္်ားေလးတစ္ေယာက္ ျဖစ္ေပမယ့္ ဦးရဲ႕ေသြးသားမို႔...ဒီအသက္ကိုကြၽန္ေတာ့္အသက္နဲ႕လဲၿပီးကြၽန္ေတာ္ေမြးဖြားမယ္'' သုဝဏၰငယ္ "ကိုယ္ရွိေနသမွ် မင္းကို ဘယ္သူမွ အျပစ္ေျပာပိုင္ခြင့္မရွိဘူး... ခက္ခဲတဲ့လမ္းဆို ကိုယ္ေရွ႕ကသြားမယ္ ခက္ခဲတာရွိရင္ ကိုယ္ပဲ ခါးစီးခံမယ္'' ဘုန္းကံျမင့္
Held in Violent Hands
Age regression story between mafia wives and a little called Lila.
The Silent Sister
Alessandra has never believed in safety. Life never gave her a reason to. Pain carved her childhood, silence became her armor, and trust? That was a luxury she could never afford. So when she runs -- bloody, broken, and barely breathing, she doesn't expect saving. She certainly doesn't expect to be taken in by a family dripping in wealth and power and. . . warmth? A mother who refuses to give up on her. A father who watches like he's waiting for her to let him in. And six brothers. Rough. Protective. Complicated. Brothers, who don't know what to do with a sister who won't speak. She doesn't know how to trust. How to believe that maybe not everyone wants to hurt her. Every instinct tells her to run. To shut down. But they don't let her go. Not when she flinches. Not when she hides. Not even when she breaks. Happiness is for other people, or that's what she believes. But when love comes wrapped in gentle patience and fierce protection, when hands reach for her without demand, when hearts break themselves wide open just to hold her... she starts to wonder. Can a girl stitched together with silence and fear ever belong in a family built on love? Can she stand tall when the ghosts of her past refuse to let go? And when danger claws its way back into her life, threatening everything she's come to know... will she find her voice, or will she shatter all over again? Trigger Warnings: Child abuse. Violence. Addiction. Panic attacks. Self-harm. Death, and more.
𝗔 𝗩 𝗔 𝗡 𝗬 𝗔 : 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓽𝓱
❝ 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬. 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫. ❞ ✦ ✦ ✦✦ ✦ ✦✦ ✦ ✦✦ ✦ ✦✦ ✦ ✦✦ ✦ ══════════ ❖ ══════════ 𝑨 𝑽 𝑨 𝑵 𝒀 𝑨 𓂃 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒕𝒉 𓂃 ══════════ ❖ ══════════ She grew up knowing care. Gentle hands. Quiet protection. A presence that felt like home when the world felt too sharp. She was loved. But love does not erase everything. And being protected does not mean being untouched by pain. Some silences stay too long. Some truths arrive too early. Some burdens are never meant for a child. So she learned to endure. To smile softly. To speak less. To carry hurt without letting it show. Warmth became her instinct. Quiet strength, her shield. Then she stepped into a house ruled by power. A family built on authority and discipline, where emotions were controlled and warmth was never taught. At its center stood a man shaped by shadows- respected in light, feared in darkness. His past was buried deep, But it was never gone. Around him stood sons who had been raised to command. Composed. Unyielding. Dangerous in their silence. She did not arrive to change them. She did not come to heal anyone. She arrived carrying love and loss, warmth learned from care, Strength born from survival. And sometimes- That kind of warmth is the most dangerous thing of all. ✨ Can someone who has known both comfort and cruelty survive a world built on control? ✨ Will softness last where emotions are considered weakness? Dive
My Husband Hates Me (ငါ့ခင်ပွန်းက ငါ့ကိုမုန်းတယ်)
အထင်လွဲမူ ၊ ကလဲ့စားချေခြင်း ၊ အမုန်းတရားများနဲ့ ဖွဲ့စည်းတည်ထောင်ထားတဲ့ အိမ်ထောင်ရေး Ficတစ်ပုဒ်..... Warning🚨 အပြည့်အဝပေးပါတယ်
ضلك الي خلااني أعيش ورا اوهام اليل ..
في وسط عتمه اليل يطلع الضل الي بيخلي البطل .. لا مبالي من الحب والقوه ،، ليست كل القصص تبدّا بالحب .. بما ان روايتي تبدّا .. باالانتقام .. العنف .. الشر .. وهل نقدر نكشف الحقيقه ياترى .. ام لا .. بينما ينتصر الحب لتخفى القلوب ام تنتصر القوه ويروح الحب سوف نقضي رحله معاً رحله تتأرجح بين القوه والحب فما ينتصر القوه ام الحب .. سنعرف معاً في روايه { ضلك الي خلاني اعيش ورا اوهام اليل }
"𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥..." Poet was used to being the second choice. Actually, she was used to not being chosen at all. The girl blended into the background easily, it had always been that way. Sometimes, passion wasn't enough to put you in the spotlight and she was okay with that. Riot had always carried the weight of his mother's ways on his shoulders. He was the oldest son. The protector. The rock. He never would have thought these things to push him closer than ever to his soulmate. Not when he wasn't even sure what he wanted his own love story to look like. Their love was never expected to be but maybe it was supposed to happen that way. 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝟏 𝐎𝐅 '𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄' 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
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