Gently Synonym

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

"You have no idea do you?" He whispers, his lips only a millimetre from mine. "No idea about what?" His fingers slip around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body. I feel him everywhere. He's hard where I'm soft. Calm where my heart is beating. He lifts a hand to my face, gently cupping my cheek as he tilts my gaze to meet his. His thumb brushes against my lower lip and I suck in a sharp breath when I notice just how dark his gaze is. "You have no idea the power you have over me." ... Born to a mother who abandoned her family and a father who never even knew he existed, Aaron O Sullivan has spent his entire life fighting to prove he belongs. With a chip on his shoulder and blood on his hands, he’s determined to reclaim the legacy stolen from him. When no one moment of anger causes the one person he's grown to care about everything he's determined to step up and save her despite even if she thinks she doesn't want his help. And what way to protect her other than a fake engagement. Waitress By Day, Stripper By Night, Elle will do whatever it takes to pay off her uncle and finally buy her freedom. But behind her sharp tongue and seductive smile is a secret and trauma so depe she wasn't sure she could heal. Until him. She doesn't understand why he wants to protect her especially because he's the reason she's in this mess to begin with. She's got pain and he's got secrets. What happens when the two collide just how far are they willing to go for the things they desire.

One year ago, my husband Killian came back home accusing me of poisoning him, with his childhood sweetheart in his arms. It was terrifying. Because what started off allegedly, became my cold reality with that awful text. “Have you gone through with it, Tamara? Our flight is at noon,” This made Killian even more hostile, he treated me with so much contempt, he broke my heart into shreds in his quest for vengeance. Fed up, I asked for a divorce but to Killian it was one big joke. He has every means to keep me in this marriage and I know it. But screw it, and screw him! I had plans, work, make money and get myself out unscathed. But then fate decided to throw me another curved ball… I got pregnant, and Killian was the only possible father. **** Damon had lived life with no emotions, no sentiments and he had always known two things, how to close huge business deals —- and how to make women squirm beneath him, until he met her. Hazel Simpson, insanely mouthwatering, and ridiculously beautiful, smart mouth and a gorgeous body. One glance and he was all in. But there's one huge problem, she despised rich, egoistic and arrogant guys, a hate that ran deep. He was all that in every sense of the word. So he set out to do the impossible, disguise to make her his, but at what cost? ***** “Have you forgotten that I'm just a divorcee, a broken woman incapable of love, Seb?” I ask him breathlessly, staring into his eyes. “I'm going to stitch your heart, Melanie. I'm going to make you want me,” Sebastian takes my ear into his mouth and nibbles it gently, sending shivers down my spine.

"If you don't turn the fuck around and look at me, I'll pull the fucking trigger in my head." Reader Discretion Is Advised, this is not your average love story. The first 27 chapters will draw you in gently, revealing the cracks in Camilla's world, the men who twist her fate, and the fire she never knew she carried. But don’t mistake the slow burn for softness. She learns. She hardens. She rises. From there, things shift. Love turns darker. Desire gets sharper. Violence isn’t just background, it’s survival. And the romance? It’s messy, fierce, and utterly addictive. If you’re here for morally gray men, vulnerable but fiery heroines, and a plot that doesn’t hold back... welcome. This book will hurt you, heal you and leave you breathless.

- Oh yes ... there ... again ... stronger! Saccaded groans resounded through the walls, sneaking like a poison to the ears of Élodie. His breath was cut. Her heart tightened in his chest. No ... not that ... His trembling fingers gently pushed the door ajar in the guest room. And what she saw cut her legs. His fiancé, Victor, naked, in sweat, tackled Isabelle's offered body against the mattress, her hips hammering her basin with frightening brutality. -Damn, you are so good ... he growled, grabbing his sister's hair. Élodie gave her mouth a hand to stifle a cry. His big sister. His landmark. Her lifelong ally. And there, before her eyes, she stole the man she loved to him.

“Sophia! Sophia!!” I dropped to my knees beside her, grabbing her fragile shoulders, shaking her gently at first, then harder, desperate for any reaction. Nothing. Her skin was cold. <<< Clarissa felt her life crumbling right before her eyes. Bruce was responsible for their daughter's death and many things looked planned. Her goal was to find out what happened but she couldn't be in the marriage anymore. What happens when old flames rekindle? Will Clarissa avenge her daughter's death? Who is Clarissa?

Blurb Yes! Eat me up, I screamed as he finally put that big pink johnson inside me, he stroked me gently at first but started pounding after I dug my fingers into his arms. Mia might find out that I made out with her dad, I didn't really care, I would do anything to continue getting those juicy liquid on my face. Andrea Louis found herself sexually attracted to her best friend's father, Martins and tried as much as she could to hide it, soon what she felt was lust turned to love and she found herself craving for just his presence. Events took a terrible turn as a pregnant lady shows up, claiming Martins is the father of her unborn kids, leaving Andrea shattered and heartbroken.

She opened the door, and when she stepped inside, someone else closed it behind her. She jolted. Her head spun in shock to see him standing there. Her nerves felt jittery. He couldn’t possibly kill her now, could he? “W-what do you want?” Anna stuttered. The usual smirk wasn’t on his lips as he glared at her. “One thing I hate is when things don’t go as I planned. Silly little loopholes,” he said, pushing away from the doorframe. Her heart rippled when he took a step toward her. He was tall and large—she felt like a little girl compared to him. “I will scream,” Anna breathed, cold sweat rolling down her back. He held her chin. His hold was gentle as he caressed her jawline. Anna shivered. Then his lips tilted into a smirk—not enigmatic like the ones she had usually seen. This one was… sinister. One that told her he didn’t have good plans for her. “Careful there. We wouldn’t want you ending up with a broken spinal cord now, do we?” His large palm flew to her throat, his thumb gently caressing it. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “What do you want?” Her voice came out as a low whisper. “Your body,” he deadpanned. “As manure for my apple tree.” After being thrown to the wolves by her own father, Annalisa must make the ultimate choice—follow her heart or destroy the man she’s come to love.

In the beautiful room, a man and a woman were entangled on the bed. The two naked bodies were stuck together without a single gap, the image was so hot that it was suffocating, in the quiet space now were the woman's urgent moans, the man's panting. Suddenly the phone rang, causing Nolan's face to frown, he raised his hand to turn it off but Hellen stopped him. Looking at the name on the screen made her smile. - My dear, didn't I say I couldn't bother you tonight? - Hellen, I'm scared. Nolan is really angry with you, he went out that night, you couldn't contact him. Today is your birthday, can't he tolerate you? On the other side was the angry but crying voice of a woman, her birthday was very solemn, but at night her husband was not by her side. On this side, the man she was talking about was lying on top of another woman's body, gently biting her chest, making her almost scream. Tuyet Dung glared at him. She quickly comforted Grace with a few sentences then hung up. She didn't want anyone to disturb her on this romantic night.

Nicole thought that her life would be easy now after she left behind all the memories of an awful night, but an unexpected tribulation led to her moving into a new city, trying to forget the inexplicable incident that happened to her. Little did she know that she could never escape from it because the devil would always find her, no matter how hard she tried to get away from him. He was meant to be her medicine, but he turned out to be poisonous. I hear his hoarse voice bringing me back from the daze as he growls in between the kisses. "You have no idea how dangerous it can be..." He says with his lips going down to the area just above my breast, he sucks in desperately, squeezing my ass gently, making me whimper in bliss. I cling to his shirt, trying to hold my body from collapsing. "Careful...You are messing with the devil, Cole." He doesn't let me breathe for a minute as he starts attacking me with his open-mouthed kisses back. Rapture succumbs to me as I feel his lips again on my neck, traveling higher. I breathe heavily, unable to maintain my composure while being acquainted with this unfamiliar sensation. His lips reach my ear as he gently nibbles my earlobe. "You know why people call me the devil?" His breath fanned over my ear. "It's not because I am a sinner." His harsh breath comes out of his pants, showing me how equally affected he is as he continues. "It's because I am capable of making innocent people commit sins."