"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He exhales a chuckle of cynical amusement, his footsteps getting every step clearer to my eardrums until I eventually sense body heat burning my back. "And why is that?" He whispers over my shoulder, hands inviting themselves to grip the railing in front of me so I become a prisoner between his inked arms. I swallow. "Because you'll be the one to kill me first." // Aven Brooks is hired to take pictures for the world-renown punk rock band known today as Duplicity; hoping the experience gets her into her most elite-dreamed university. However, when her lenses accidentally capture more than just cheeky sound checks and performances, she comes to a horrifying discovery that Duplicity is anything but a band. Appalled and frightened, she's trapped. *HIGHEST RANKINGS* #1 IN HARRYSTYLES #1 IN ONEDIRECTION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @happydays1d NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS! CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE / DRUG ABUSE / SEXUAL CONTENT / DESCRIPTIVE VIOLENCE / MENTAL HEALTH READ AT OWN RISK!

who doesn't fall in love with a weasley at least once in their life? • when antheia calderon is invited by her best friend ron to stay at the burrow for the summer, she assumed it would be a good way to escape her empty house. but little did she know she would get more than she bargained for with his older brothers constantly around. • MATURE WARNING: story includes drug and alcohol use, sex, swearing and other 18+ themes. Please read with caution. highest ranking: #1 in friendstolovers

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Don't you call her baby. We're not talking lately. Don't you call her what you used to call me... A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them. "Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams." - Paul Gauguin. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! *TW: story contains mature topics such as mental abuse, PTSD, minor drug usage, and minor sexual content.*

"Solo cerraré mis ojos" Fueron las últimas palabras de Alicia Collins, una adolescente de 17 años, cuya verdadera vida era desconocida por quienes solían decir que la conocían. Las razones de su muerte están plasmadas en una hoja arrugada arrancada de su cuaderno de literatura. Razones las cuales nadie comprende, razones contradictorias que dan vueltas y vueltas a miles de asuntos y en las cuales hay muchas personas involucradas. Todas las personas mencionadas en La Carta Suicida de Alicia tendrán una vivencia para nunca olvidar.

*Story Contains Mature and Explicit Content* [COMPLETED] "Strangers in the dark can change your life in the light." "As I reach the front door I can't help the same question swimming around in my mind, what could possibly be on all of those tapes?" ----- Preview: "You wanna try and be my medicine Abby?" he asks with a deep testing tone, keeping his voice quiet. "I can try" I breathe out as I gulp when his grip tightens "Try me" His hand slides up my throat, his long fingers wrapping tight around my jaw "That's what you really want?" I nod, as I sigh out a shallow yes, and I see every muscle in his body tense, as he wets his lips; hoarsely murmuring his next sentence like its his last try at making me change my mind. "I'm dangerous Abby, this is your last chance, tried to warn you" My stomach twists and knots, as I use every ounce of bravery I have. "Prove it then" ----- Book Started : DEC 2018 - COMPLETED MAY 2019

got to a couple thousand and then got reported. FULLY UPLOADED :)

"How many existentialists does it take to screw a lightbulb?" Spencer asked with a small laugh. Once again the room was silent. You faintly heard Agent Rossi mutter, "Don't." "2. One to change the light bulb and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in a netherworld of cosmic nothingness," he said. The room was silent still, until you laughed. His eyes looked up at yours in confusion. "Wouldn't they sit in the dark and hope that the bulb decided to light again? An existentialist would never change the bulb. He would allow the darkness to exist," you questioned. - #1 #spencerreid #1 #mgg #1 emilyprentiss

*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying? ~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Preview: "Do you think, if you jumped from this roof - it'd feel like falling or flying?" I ask, keeping up with our theme of asking random useless questions that we've been going back and forth with for the past half hour. I stare at my feet swinging back and forth, looking down at the alleyway behind the building; pondering the question over in my head that I often wonder too much about. I glance over to Harry when he doesn't answer straight away and he's watching me with a look I can't read. "Unless you were a bird or could fly, it would just feel like falling. Because you'd know you were going to hit the ground" he decides to answer, staring at me like he's somewhat bothered that I asked him that. I look back down at the ground, and shrug my shoulders, "I think if you didn't care about hitting the ground it could feel like flying for a few seconds." ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ STARTED 11TH MARCH 2019 - ONGOING