Queerpride Stories

Phoenix is 11 years old. It's a tough age for any child to be in: making friends fitting in at school, discovering yourself, and more. But it's even worse for Phoenix: not only is she the new kid in school, but her father is also the new president of the country. Not only that, Phoenix wants to be like a boy, but everyone wants her to wear a dress. The popular girls want to hang out with her, but Phoenix only wants to be with the boys in the soccer team. Writing to a mysterious Dr. Hemsworth, Phoenix explores the world of gender, identity, and growing up.

If you read this before I'm sorry if you liked it, I no longer had motivation to finish it so I'm starting from scratch :D TRIGGER WARNING FOR HOMOPHOBIA, SELF HARM AND SUICIDAL THOUGHT/ACTIONS - "Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." ― Marilyn Monroe

~"i'm so sorry for the pain i caused.. it wasn't my fault. you have to understand!", she sobbed into her shoulder.~ SLOW BURN first-seventh years at hogwarts luna x fem oc

Since Pride is a celebration of ourselves and the identities that make us different yet also connect us, it is important, especially when all Pride parades and celebrations have been cancelled, to stay and celebrate together in safety. Every week days, we'll be posting a new prompt, and we encourage you to write about your experience with your identity, labels, coming out, pride, and all other aspects of your queer identity. Submission rules inside.

This is a poetry/non-fiction. It's a poem I wrote based off an issue I feel strongly about. I hope this message reaches others out there who struggle with this issue. This is about how people who say LGBTQ+ people are wrong and how LGBT people are perfect and nothing and no one can change that. More description in first part.

Two boys' love for eachother sparks a much needed change in the world they live in. Childhood friends. Total goofballs. Soulmates. The whole world at the palms of their hands. Two thirteen year olds try to explore the world. Just the two of them. No food, no shelter, no remorse. Just the clothes on their backs and their streetsmarts. Their reason, their goal? To seize every adventure out there before their time is up. Art isn't mine

This was this boy named Blaine Cummings, small boy who played volleyball. Not much to look at right? Well somehow he caught the attention of the jock, Andrew Snaw, and his sister, Tori Snaw's attention. How did he do it? nobody really knows..

Riley was well-know. Or, well, online. She was a virtual artist-- making songs, playlists, and themes for shows and by request. Riley has always felt alone-- that's what she thinks, anyways. She walks down a street, humming and tapping her fingers on the tablet laying in her arms. her chestnut brown hair gleams softly in the golden hour lighting as the sun rises. It's beautiful, she notes. As she walks, she listens in to every little noise. The birds chirping and singing, the waves in the nearby ocean, the wind rustling through a tree or two, and the sounds of people talking as they walk down the quiet street. It's a relaxing scene, and Riley enjoys the peace.

Queer youth fantasy story written by a young queer author

"We would be nothing without someone controlling us, wouldn't we?" Charles asked, his voice carried away by the wind that was slowly raising. "Guess we're lucky enough to never find that out" Charles Diaz is the perfect soldier. Silent, lethal, obedient. To the League, he is a "Ghost," a weapon that asks no questions and leaves no trace. He lives to carry out orders, until a shadow from the past returns to darken the present. Ernesh is pure chaos. A crime boss whose influence spreads like a virus through the streets of the New York. Crazy, unpredictable, and, above all, the only case the League has never been able to close. Following a mission that ended up in a disaster, Charles finds himself stuck in a deadly alliance with the very man he was supposed to eliminate. But his proximity to Ernesh triggers an unexpected tension, a morbid bond made up of provocations, glances in the shadows, and a strange, twisted mutual understanding. Ernesh is the only one who seems to know Charles' true nature, the only one capable of shaking the emptiness in his chest. Between high-risk infiltrations and betrayals, Charles finds himself walking a tightrope: will he remain a puppet in the hands of the League, or will he be the one to put an end to it all?