from the bottom of my broken heart

"starting today," the infamous raven vargas says, spreading her hands wide, in a gesture suggesting that today is some sort of tangible object-something right here in the room with us, "is the rest of your life." ☤☤☤ gracie is a surgical intern at seattle medical center. her focus is the medicine. the last thing on her mind is finding a best friend. (until she does.) or finding a boyfriend. (until she does.) or finding a husband. (until she does.) or having kids. (until she does.) best of all, who is to say it happens in that order? ☤☤☤ [completed; april 6, 2020]

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.*

[sequel to medicine] ☤☤☤ "i'm doing all this... this becoming. i'm becoming a mother, i'm becoming a doctor, i'm becoming a girlfriend and maybe a wife. but that doesn't mean that i know who i am any more or any less." ☤☤☤ [completed; december 13, 2020]

We're all mad here, it's Wonderland. ~ Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth. "I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning to the surrounding world. "Of course, I've gone a little mad." He flips me around as the level of infuriation rises throughout his clenched jaw, trying to remain composed. "Don't try and be something you're not, Presley." I rip away from his hold, furrowing my brows from the curt statement, the honest revelation that should've just stayed within his mind. "We'll never be the heroes, and you know that," he says, colder than the Arctic's towering waves. "We'll never win." We'll never find Purple. Purple, the color of the Star-Crossed Lovers.

"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!

But I know I can't be that for him. Because every time he looks at me, I'm never gonna be home for him. I'll always be someone who reminds him of what he did. And to make sure I don't do that, I have to leave. As long as he no longer feels guilty and have to carry the burden, I'll pretend as if everything was a dream. After today, this was all nothing but a good dream. Nothing but a good, happy dream.

"Life is about deep kisses, strange adventures, midnight swims, and rambling conversations." -Unknown Running away wasn't the hard part of it. In fact, that took very little thought at all. Trying to figure out why it felt so right was what made it complicated. How a boy on a bus changes everything.

Maybe she shouldn't have opened her door in the middle of the night. 24/06/19 #3 in fanfiction 24/06/19 #3 in romance

Elle Grey doesn't need anyone. She only needs herself, a paintbrush, and if she gets desperate enough, there are the few people she actually tolerates that she can talk to. She knows that there's more out there in the world - in fact, she spends most of her time either daydreaming or painting about it. She knows that the South Dakotan town she's grown up in is only suffocating her. That's why she finds Harry so intriguing. He's different and he brings out something in her that she wasn't sure was still there. Suddenly she's second-guessing everything she has known her entire life - maybe she does need someone.