Foster care has taught me a lot of things, from being a star student to being on my best behavior. Even more so since I have autism. All of that paid off since I accepted an athletic scholarship at Harvick University and a place at the school's award-winning aquatics team as a diver. And a kid like me could never imagine being part of something so amazing that my future could be sealed based on my plans to put in the work.

The mid-October rain drummed against Dr. Salinger's office windows, creating a steady rhythm that seemed to mirror my anxious heartbeat. I sat in my usual spot on the gray sectional, knees drawn up slightly, fingers worrying the frayed edge of my RISD hoodie. Dr. Salinger's office had become a sanctuary over the past months—a place where I could strip away the carefully constructed masks I wore for everyone else.

Hey, you guys. It's been a full minute since I posted something outside of my usual sneak previews and all. Anyway, a LOT has happened over the past couple of weeks since November began. From getting my first-ever job at a grocery store (I'm still in training) to actually taking time to work on myself, I've been busy with a lot of things that I almost forgot to keep things real with all of you.

Dedication. Discipline. Transparency. These are the three core factors and pillars that define a true Blue Devil athlete at Harvick University, especially for the swimming and diving teams. Without one or the other, an athlete risks drifting into failure and mediocrity. They must be genuinely committed to putting in the work at one of the most prestigious HBCUs in the country, from the classrooms to the pool.

Foster kid Arian Halliday lives life by his own set of rules: don't ask questions about his birth family, be a star student-athlete; and always do what's needed while respecting authority. For him, survival is all he knows best as he rarely trusts in anyone other than those in his social circle. In a way, Arian is satisfied with his life.

"Skylar," Grandpa said as I entered. "Sit down. We need to talk." I took the seat across from them, my heart already racing. "I know what you're going to say—" "Do you?" Grandpa's voice was sharp, cutting through my words like a knife. "Because I'm not sure you understand just how serious last night was. That girl assaulted you, Skylar. In front of hundreds of people.

The night before the talent showcase, I found myself unable to sleep. Jorge's parents had allowed me to stay over (as had become routine on Thursday nights), and I lay in his bed staring at the ceiling while he scrolled through his phone next to me. "You're nervous," Jorge stated, not looking up. "How can you tell?" "You get this little crease right here when you're worried," he said, finally setting his phone down and reaching over to smooth the spot between my eyebrows.

The bonfire was massive, flames leaping high into the darkening sky and casting dancing shadows across at least thirty people scattered around it. Someone had rigged up speakers connected to a phone, and music pulsed out—something current and upbeat that I didn't recognize. Groups of students clustered around coolers and blankets, some dancing near the fire, others wading in the shallow waves despite the October chill.

Twenty minutes later, I sat at the kitchen table, freshly showered and dressed in my own church clothes—slacks and a button-down that suddenly felt too tight, too formal, like a costume I was wearing for someone else's benefit. Papa Emmett poured three cups of coffee, setting them on the table with the kind of deliberate care that meant he was choosing his words carefully.

Here's the latest sneak preview from chapter 18 of "The Passion of Sean Gillain." Take a look below! The silence stretched for exactly three seconds before Alyssia's voice drifted down from the stairs. "Oh my God, this is literally 'The Vampire Diaries.'" I spun around to find her sitting on the landing, clearly having heard everything. Her eyes were sparkling with amusement and something that might have been sympathy.

True to Mama Rosa's word, the food started arriving within minutes—and it just kept coming. First was an appetizer of fried calamari that was nothing like the rubbery rings I'd had at that Olive Garden. These were tender and perfectly seasoned, served with a marinara sauce that tasted like summer itself. "Oh my God," I said after the first bite. "This is incredible."

It’s a chilly Monday morning in mid-October, and I’m sitting here trying to make sense of everything swirling around me. The leaves are changing, the air feels different, and I’m caught in that seasonal shift — not just outside, but inside too. Life lately? It’s been a whirlwind. And I’m trying to find my footing again. 📖 Writing in Motion…

"That's game," Jackson said, but his smile was tight. He'd noticed the spies too. "Looks like you two are buying dinner." "Worth it," Dick said, his voice carrying across the beach—loud enough for distant listeners to hear. "Hey, Arthur, mind if I ask you something personal?" Arthur caught on immediately to Dick's plan. "Sure, Gregory. What's up?" "How do you deal with people who won't leave you alone?

Eventually, we returned to our spot on the beach, collapsing onto towels and breaking into the cooler. Uncle Javi had packed enough food for an army—fruit, vegetables with hummus, turkey and avocado wraps, and some kind of protein bars that actually didn't taste like cardboard. "Your uncles don't mess around with the healthy eating thing, huh?" Tim observed, biting into an apple.

Three days had passed since the phone call with Ra'Keem, and I was still feeling raw around the edges. My uncles had kept their word about not forcing me to contact my family, but I could see the concern in their eyes every time they looked at me. Dr. Salinger had squeezed in an emergency session the day after, and while it helped to talk through some of what happened, I still felt like I was walking around with an open wound.

We all do it. We scroll through Instagram or hear about someone’s success. Suddenly, we feel behind. It seems like we’re not doing enough. We may feel we are not moving fast enough. That’s the comparison trap—and it’s one of the quickest ways to lose peace of mind and self-worth. But here’s the truth: you […] Stop the Comparison Trap Before It Starts: How to Reclaim Your Peace

Due to unexpected circumstances, the preview from chapter 10 of “The Passion of Sean Gillain” will be rescheduled to tomorrow. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

"This is not your fault, Armando, but you know that the Allerdyce girl is not in everyone's favor," Amelia said gently to her son while her wife was shooting him a pointed stare as did the terse Samuels family as they sat in the latter family's living room. "And her kissing you while you were coming out of the locker room?

"Armando Ramirez, funny running into you here!" Armando's heart nearly flew out of his chest upon seeing the smiling face of one Corwyn Allerdyce as he emerged from the boys' locker room after an intense swim practice and a hot shower. "Y-You nearly scared the pants off me," he said as he placed his hand on his chest to calm his racing heart.

"Corwyn Allerdyce, why are we not surprised to see you on the prowl to raise hell?" Ryan stated crisply, folding his arms. "I'd say that it's a pleasure to see you again, but that would mean lying through my teeth." The raven-haired beauty scoffed. "Ditto, Samuels. Ditto. Anyway, I'm here to let you know that I'll be throwing a simple rally at my place to spread the message about how the world should be based on significant matters."

As the seasons change, so do one's priorities and aspirations. And after a chaotic summer, I'm going to utilize this autumn to not only kickstart my plans for 2026 but also use the last four months of 2025 to get more serious about my goals for my writing career and game plan for my overall health and well-being. Believe me, I've said this over and over again, but end up falling on my face and settling in a cycle of mediocrity, complacency, and unfulfilled dreams.

Bruce/Wyatt's POV Olympiade Resort for Men, Dorado Suite... "So today was definitely too close of a call with Maldonado, his cousins, and Samuels trying to pry my true identity out of me," my boyfriend said as he, the Kents, Shayanne, and I regrouped back at our suite. "But you know that this isn't going to stop, not if they have anything to say about it."

Due to unforeseen circumstances, the planned sneak preview from chapter 26 of “Olympia Men: Batman and Robin's Sensual Summer” that closes out act one will not be available until Thursday. But you can catch up with the story that's available EXCLUSIVELY on Wattpad! I apologize for the inconvenience. After my Labor Day & birthday weekend, updates will resume on Saturdays and Sundays until completion for the story.

Back at St. Isley's Resort... "Boss man is pissed the fuck off," Stefania said after she, Penelope, and Joaquin were finished with a lengthy and uneasy phone call with their boss who let them have it with their spy games. "Who'd thought that Beaulieaux had us tailed and was good with our boss?" "Well, we didn't and we're in big heat if we don't back off from spying on Daniels and Benitez," Penelope replied, tiredly grabbing her bottle of Perrier as they reconvened in their suite's sitting room area.

"Gregory Daniels, fancy seeing you here. And your bod is the kind that I wish I had back in the day." And any bit of bliss that I had faded into nothingness thanks to one Joaquin Maldonado as he and his cousins Penelope and Stefania came in their typical beach wear, the ladies in matching pink one-piece swimsuits while Joaquin was in blue swim shorts.