...Alex just glares at me without responding. I slam the rest of my clothes into the bag. "I'm leaving." I declare out loud like it wasn't obvious. His hard ice blue eyes tears away from my face slowly and looks down at my bag then slowly back up to my face causing my heart to leap. After a few more silent seconds, he unfolds himself from leaning against the closet's door frame and quietly walk over to the bedroom door. Meeting and holding my startled gaze, he reaches over and slowly turns the lock on the door. "No you aren't."

yall rly need to bump up your diversity in books!

"It's complicated." "It doesn't have to be." In which they're both in too deep to pull out now. © charismatize [2016]

"You and your kind, makes me sick." "Awwe, thank you that makes me feel so special." ××× Or the one where the 1990's rich, snobby, racist white boy accidentally falls for the black beauty he's 'suppose' to hate. (Unfortunately inspired by life events.)

He was a tattoo artist by day, a painter by night. He possessed what is commonly known as an addictive personality. Perhaps inherited. He had always been like that. He liked to ink his body. He liked to coat his lungs in smoke. He craved adrenalin rushes. He certainly enjoyed hot cups of coffee. Oh, and his paintings. No one would ever understand how much he loved to paint. And then, one night, a new sort of addiction walked into his life. One that would be more detrimental than any before, and yet none had seemed quite so captivating. highest ranking- #82 in fanfiction trailer by @sweetophelias all rights reserved to @derailedthoughts

I wrote this when I was like 10 years old I'm literally so sorry for this omg I thought this was comedy gold when I was younger