Shortlisted for the 2022 Watty Awards! 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 Marge fell into the sunken place of a Stepford-esque town in the hopes of acclaiming a simpler life. She opened a pottery studio, and her work and classes became wildly successful. But sometimes all it takes is a new face to spin simple into complicated. ( Love Quinn x Female!OC ) ( Based on Season 3 of Netflix's You )

A wealthy business owner Asher, better known as Mr Romero, has his eye on innocent Y/N when he sees her one day in one of his bars. From that day on, he claims her as his but she doesn't know it. He won't let any other guy touch her and if they do, death will come knocking at their door. After a rough break up with her horrid boyfriend, and moving in with her best friend, Y/N starts working at Ashers bar and he becomes even more protective over her. When Asher has to save her one day from an attack outside the bar, he takes her to his home. Will she freak out when she learns things about his past? Or will she fall for his bad boy charm and stick with him though thick and thin? A two point POV: Ashers POV and Y/Ns POV - You (the reader) A few marvel references on the way ;) Trigger warnings: -mental health/anxiety -violence -sexual abuse -drug abuse -drinking READ AT OWN RISK Inspired by 'Amusement' by Albany Walker ❤️

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦, 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝. Twenty eight year old Giovanni Armani is known by everyone as cunning, smart, a playboy and most importantly, absolutely terrifying. He basks in scaring people away, but when he meets twenty-one year old Arabella Jones, she can't help but to see him for who he really is-a funny, egotistical man. Not a killer, not the man with countless warrents for his arrest and blood on his hands. When she finds out he's the investor of Primrose Elemantary where she had just gotten a job as a substitute English teacher, she can't help but to fall for him. Could his lifestyle scare her away? Or could she look past all his wrong doings and love him for the man he really is? Through trial and error, news and situations that could break them apart, they stick to each other like superglue on fingers. Or do they?

"Just fight a little while longer baby boy." "I'm tired."

stitching storms into lovers' thighs (poetry #1 / prose #1 - 061120) © VANGOHS, 2017

*EDITORS' CHOICE 2021*After falling for her senior year teacher, Louise learns a harsh lesson on what adulthood isn't. Louise has some trauma to unpack. Heartbreak's a bitch, and her first relationship had been anything but normal. Thinking herself mature for her age, her affair with Mr. Cain started swooningly well. Except things ended quite abruptly. It's a lot for a seventeen year old to handle. But who's really at fault for what happened? Who even is Mr. Cain, and what is he hiding? From the wreckage of her naivety and self-esteem, can Louise save her friendships and rebuild herself? Our love songs aren't telling the whole truth. How can this be? In this tale of vulnerability, adolescence and painful reckoning, the arrogance of youth demands a price. * "'You're what, Louise?' he asked. 'You're sorry? What am I supposed to do here? How can I turn this around? How can I tell you that everything you want and feel is reciprocated, when I have to go back to work and pretend none of it happened?' 'I don't know the answer!' I cried. 'Neither of us do.' I threw my hands up in defeat. He caught them before they could fall. 'But how do I go back to living without your words?' His voice became a whisper. He squeezed my fingers tightly, closing his eyes and bringing them to his chest. 'I need how you make me feel, Luiza. I need it to feel alive. I won't stay away. No one's made me feel this good before. And I can't stand myself for wanting what I want. What do I do?' I was a violin bow on the verge of splintering. Every inch of me pulsed with an ache that began from the marrow of my bones. Fate had brought us here. At this crossroads of ours, there were a hundred different choices to make. A thousand different lifetimes to choose from, stemming from and decided entirely by my next choice. And in the end, I chose incorrectly. I held his face between my hands, feeling the echoing pulse of his skin. I brought his face to mine. I kissed him."