ChromedOutCortex

100% I absolutely LOVED it. But then, I also like the slow burn type movies - the romance, playfulness of both characters. How they could be themselves out there, in the wilderness with nobody else around to judge them (except of course... when they are seen). I haven't watched Heated Rivalry yet, but seeing all the positive (and negative) comments on Reddit, I think I'll have to at least give this one a shot.

The next morning, mom, Cindy and I went to the university registrar’s office. The office smelled faintly of paper and polished floors, that clean, institutional scent every school seemed to carry. Mom and Cindy handled most of the talking at the counter, asking about forms, student numbers, fees. I stood beside them, nodding when the woman behind the desk glanced my way, even though my head felt two steps removed from my body. Next, we were directed to another department, Accessibility Serv

My ex tells me that all the time "you're just like your father/mother" - aaaah; change is so difficult! Tough to change, but you have to learn to control and know when somethings brewing to step back and breathe.

Dean reminds me of someone that doesn't leave because that's all he knows. He may have had generations of family living there, and because of that that's all he's known. It did take Marcus leaving, and Kris leaving before he realized that he had something good (in Kris) and he was turning into his father had he stayed there. Anger is a difficult thing to tame, especially if you've been brought up surrounded by it.

Restart - you got that right; the game was an analogy to his own life. Trying to make sure everything was perfect before taking the next step but IRL, nothing is perfect. Fear kept stopping him. Will I get the job? I have to work hard otherwise I'll get blackballed. Maybe I shouldn't have applied, now they'll think I don't really want to work here. Too many what-ifs running through his head which gave him a form of analysis paralysis. He just lacked the confidence in himself.

You're right... I didn't mention that. Just had a look through my notes (it's in there though LOL - dammit). I think I went with the subtle hint at their last name (D'Souza) though that's probably not enough to go on as I remember having friends from India that had a similar last name.

He can be pretty unsufferable at times can't he! Aaaargh... reminds me of someone I know. 😉 Act first, regret later.

Great question! So Kris and his family is Portuguese... I thought using that specific word for mother and coming from Dean show that he's making huge steps to becoming a better person. Also his mother left him when he was relatively young, so he's not known the affection of a mother. 💕

Toronto felt different now, less like a city and more like a rhythm Kris had finally learned to move with. The skyline no longer seemed intimidating, just alive. The streetcars, the noise, the endless rush all of it had become part of his routine. The company had found them temporary housing in Toronto, a small furnished apartment downtown. Before the move, Kris and his mom spent weeks sorting through their life, selling most of their belongings, packing only the things that mattered. Old p

I'll be making changed to future chapters... or make it more easy to identify the English translations. The Urdu was added to set the tone of the characters in the story. EDIT: Made some changes to this one. Hopefully it makes it easier to read!

Hours later, as we descended, Toronto unspooled beneath the wing: a net of lights stretched tight over a lake-dark edge. My chest did that flutter it does before a big exam. What had Jamie done with the place? How had he set it up? Had he remembered… well, anything we forgot could hitch a ride later, everyone kept saying they’d be back and forth to check on me, on us. “I can’t believe how big it is,” Jay said, forehead pressed to the window. “Bigger than Vancouver. Maybe I can get a scholar

Henry was already gone by the time Christian opened his eyes. Sunlight slanted through the thin curtains, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets. The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the distant rattle of the #14 bus pulling away from the corner. Christian rolled onto his back, the imprint of Henry’s body still warm beside him. He smelled coffee, strong, black, the cheap kind they bought in bulk, and beneath it, the faint tang of last night’s stew. He sat up

“Your confession doesn’t make it better,” Jamal said softly, finally. “It just makes it sadder. Because it means you knew I mattered… and you still chose to protect your ego over my dignity.” Jamal didn’t cry this time. The tears had dried up, replaced by a cold, aching clarity. He just stood there, naked, wounded, and utterly alone in the space between them. He didn’t say another word. He just stood, slowly, deliberately, ignoring the way his legs trembled, ignoring the heat in his ch

A queer South Asian man finds love with a kind Canadian man, only to be shattered when his partner reduces him to a stereotype. Heartbroken, he returns to his family’s unwavering love, and rediscovers his worth.

Thanks! Coincidences... hmmm??? 😉

“So,” he said after a while, clearing his throat lightly, “you said you hike here often.” “Often enough,” I replied. “I started in my twenties. Used to come with…” The rest of the sentence caught in my throat as a memory dropped into place: Kevin ahead of me on a slick section of trail, laughing as he nearly wiped out on wet moss, cheeks flushed from the cold, swearing at the wind and grinning like it was all part of the fun. “With friends?” Adrian completed, his voice softer now,

I will check it out! Thanks!

I only started watching BL dramas over the last six months or so, and I'm hooked! I didn't really know much of the background of how they came to be, but understood that Thai BL dramas, for instance were more spicy than Korean, Japanese or Chinese. There are some Chinese BL dramas that are not being censored (but I wonder, for how long). I do like that many of these dramas focus on the romance and intimate moments (much of what I like to write). I saw this posted on Reddit recently (in the boyslove subreddit) and thought to share it here with those that enjoy BL and wanted to learn a little more about its history.

Really love the site - somethings sometimes feel old/kludgy but being a software engineer in a past life I totally understand the effort needed in rebuilding something from the ground up. I love the new design - more modern, and fresh new look! Things which would be cooler? 1. A way to expand your reading/editing section for writers -- so could I "hide" the right side of the screen and expand the writing section? Or hide the right/left columns? 2. Better way to engage with people commenting on stories. Maybe there isn't a better way - but sometimes it feels like a challenge to go through the list, click on an item then go back to the list and search for the next one. Maybe if you had a separate way to view/respond to comments? So you click on a comment on the left panel, it's displayed in the right along with a way to reply. Just an idea... 3. Author pages - maybe this already exists? Just some way to let people know what's going on or to ask questions etc., I probably should spend more time looking around. But regardless - love the site, how things are laid out and the community here. Looking forward to seeing all the changes!!! Keep up the great work - I understand that its a lot to upkeep.

It had been a long few weeks, but finally, finally, Kris’s mom was coming home. The hospital discharge had taken half the day: prescriptions, therapy instructions, and the nurse’s calm but endless explanations about what she should and shouldn’t do. By the time Kris wheeled her to the car, they were both exhausted. The ride home was uneventful, Kris's mom commented that the car seemed to run much better than it ever had. Still, when she stepped into the house, she smiled. “Oh, it

He still sets two mugs on the counter in the morning. Out of habit. Out of hope. Out of some stubborn refusal to admit the space beside him is empty for good. The apartment is quiet now. No grading at the kitchen table. No shared silence that used to feel like belonging. Just the hum of the fridge, the distant clatter of the subway, the ghost of a laugh that doesn’t come. He tells himself it’s better this way. That he needed room to breathe. That love shouldn’t feel like a cage.

It’s clear how deeply you loved them, and how deeply that love still lives. That your dreams give you moments with them, just as they were in their fullest selves, is a quiet kind of grace. Thank you for sharing something so personal and beautiful.

The city heat clung to Christian’s skin like a second uniform as he turned onto Maple Avenue, the kind of late-July humidity that turned sidewalks into griddles and made the air taste like exhaust and distant thunder. He tugged the brim of his cap lower, sweat already cooling on his neck, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. His runners, scuffed, gray, past their prime, slapped softly against the pavement. Four calls since noon. More before that. He hated reducing it t

After years together, Christian watches his life with Henry unravel—not from anger or betrayal, but from quiet manipulation by a charming stranger who made him doubt everything. By the time he sees the truth, it’s too late: Henry is gone, and no one believes him. A story about love stolen not with violence, but with words.

I feel he was a city boy, never gone out on a hike and figure he'd wing it. I mean, he's walked city parks, right? This just has more trees. 😉 You don't really wanna wing it when in a dense forest.