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.*

©martomlin All rights reserved Dead Flowers January 2018 Completed (under lazy reconstruction) - - Jane Hughes is an eighteen-year-old girl that is about to dive head-first into the blood-thirty jaws of womanhood. Plagued with a mother that resents her youth, a disinterested father, and an impetuous ex-fiancee that's never been told no, she is on the cusp of change. She's certain her days will be spent with her unfathomably gorgeous best friend in the tiny music shop where they work. Then there's Harry. He's graceful, intense, handsome. He waltzes into her world carefully, one boot-clad foot in front of the other. They fall hard and fast for another, hardly having time to brace themselves for the initial impact. Harry nudges her toward a revolution outside of peace rallies and Vietnam protests, one that is gritty, insatiable, and tangible. Set against the backdrop of the violent, decadent early 1970's in North America, Jane navigates her path with uncertain boldness.

and with the deafening mind of hers came a sorrow she submitted to. it was as if she was submerged underwater for years of her life, solely being focused on how everything was amplified beneath the surface. it was all very loud, similar to the volume of river rapids, and maybe the only way for her to subdue it was to plunge into the rapids themselves; allow the current to carry her body as far as it could. because all she wanted was silence, so silence she received. + lowercase intended. alternate universe. sad. sensitive topics. short story.

that once was; former. do you remember the first time you said you loved me, harry? |The Kiwi Styles Awards 2018; Harry Styles A.U. [5th place]| + lowercase intended. alternate universe. short chapters and story. completed & edited.

"what would distinguish a nightmare from a dream? within the former, there is fear, anxiety, sadness. you are not able to find enjoyment from a nightmare, but rather your own personal hell. your mind knows what lies in its darkest corner, and seemingly uses it against you when you close your eyes. a dream dangles a fantasy beneath your nose, giving you a teasing smell of what you want, but cannot have. a dream is what i wish it all could have been, because maybe then my nightmares could not have been a reality, but a figment of my tired imagination." a story that can end happily or dreadfully, depending on how you want to look at it. + lowercase intended. alternate universe. sad. cute. pure. completed & edited.

Marielle was scared of him, but Harry was only scared of losing her. *DISCLAIMER: This story contains a lot of domestic abuse, violence and swearing. Please consider checking out these things if you're interested in helping with domestic violence or are going through it right now. American hotline for domestic abuse:1-800-799-SAFE (7233). Website link for more information and numbers: http://www.thehotline.org Watch these: https://youtu.be/WL3rfk2iFww https://youtu.be/hhHdIhfK7LQ https://youtu.be/5Z_zWIVRIWk *

❝I'm sorry about the blood in your mouth.❞ Harry doesn't care about the blood on his hands until it's hers. 2017 FEATURED STORY Highest Ranking: #141 in Fanfiction ©chloecorrie 2016-2017

"Maybe I should be more like her." In which she vies for the heart of her lover, even when she knows he's got someone else on his mind.

After finding out her boyfriend was cheating, a writer gives a ride to a stranger. Both leave town to get a book done, only to find out disturbing things about him during the road trip.

"there some here who fear me. some who wish i was dead. but none that love me. not anymore."