Which is Worse?
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- Capítulos 1
It is a question of whether remembering traumatic experiences is worse then not remembering. It is deep thought wise.
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Devils Rebels (MC)
I admit it, I was stupid to think that me of all people would be an ordinary woman. Nope. I've lived through tremendous abuse from being in foster care after my parents were both murdered within 3 months of each other and then the sudden death of my Older brother Jake. Now here I am, falling madly, deeply, head over heels in love for the president of the Devils Rebels MC. What in the actual fuck is wrong with me? Will I be able to find answers of who killed my parents? Was my brothers untimely death really an accident or a cover up? I just hope that me and my best friend Erica with the help of Rip and his club, will be able to uncover the truth... and live to tell their story and grant them the justice that they deserve. 9/28/2020 highest rank: #4 biker 12/24/2020 highest rank: #1 BruteConcluída
The Valley Rebels
Remembering what happened, all that happened and how could I forget... A mind is a terrible thing to have. Years have passed and I still haven't forgotten. How could I forget?! How could I forget... Love! Love is terrible! You can only disagree if you're in love or if you never were... but I will not waste all my words on contradictory feelings and empty definitions, lost echoes and dead dreams. After all, this is not a love story, its a story about love.Concluída
I Pray for Death
Memory has been abused and hated for the past two years. "I prayed for death but like I said God had stopped listening to me a long time ago."Concluída
Letters and Emotions.
Each emotion and action are addressed as though they are living entities. it's a one sided conversation of what certain scenarios/emotions made me feel, act or behave in a certain way.Concluída
𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐀 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝
"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARNConcluída
She's With The Band
You really think you know the full story? You may think you do, but you don't. There's a fine line between love and hate, of course there is... there always is. You can be two things at once, can't you? Can you love two people at once? Do you even know who you are? Or who you want to be? Or maybe this, who you are right know is exactly who you are supposed to be. ⚠️WARNING BEFORE YOU READ THIS STORY⚠️: This story contains some content that some people may be uncomfortable with. This is just me warning you all because I stopped putting TW's after like chapter eight!! :) This story talks about and has - eating disorders - alcohol - drugs - violence - cursing/swearing - sexual assault/ talk of a previous r*pe - homophobia Just know in advance that this story is Mature for a reason, please don't attack me okay LOL😭😭 I do not own any of the songs used in this story. All credit goes to the owners. #1 in punk! 8/19/22 #1 in gossip! 10/6/22 #1 in New York 4/28/23Concluída
Unspoken Poetry
⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ if any of the tagged things are sensitive to read about or makes you feel uncomfortable, please do not read! I'd hate to be the reason you feel either way.Concluída
Can You Remember? (Sequel to Can You Keep A Secret?)
"I love you," Johnny murmured, clutching my wrist to the point I could not pull away no matter how much I tried. "Stop it," I snapped, "Stop saying that!" "But I do, I love you, I want you, I need you to remember," He was pleading now. "Stop, quit pretending-" "There is no pretending," Johnny said with absolute clarity. "I love you and I will love you until the day I die. You don't remember now, but you used to love me too Rosey. And I will love you until you love me again, even after I die, and if there is a life after this I will love you then, too." I stared at him as he poured his heart out; he was moving away, for once he wasn't trying to get me to love him. I was doing it myself. "Will you ever give up on this?" I asked. Johnny shrugged, "Someday, I suppose I'll give up, and sit in a rocking chair. But I'll probably be rocking fast, because I don't know what I'll do without you." ----------- Rosemarie Curtis' story has seemed to come to an end. Everything is lost. Nobody can forget. Nothing is the same. Now the gang seems to have to wrestle the past, rebuild on the ruins inside them. But sometimes life has a twisted way of bringing back something you've lost. For Rosemarie's story is just beginning. But there was no way the gang could scrape the earth clean, and keep thinking they could start again. Because even though Rosemarie is alive, her memories of the past are gone. Her mind had left them; she has now gone wild and wary. She remembers no feeling, no hurt, and no loving. Johnny must cope with losing his only love, while her thoughts swim between them, hidden under rocks, disappearing in weeds, and he fishes for them, dangling his own memories like bait and lures. But how can you love someone you don't remember loving? How can you remember something you don't want to remember? And how can the gang hold together when everything has fallen apart?Concluída
I admit it, I was stupid to think that me of all people would be an ordinary woman. Nope. I've lived through tremendous abuse from being in foster care after my parents were both murdered within 3 months of each other and then the sudden death of my Older brother Jake. Now here I am, falling madly, deeply, head over heels in love for the president of the Devils Rebels MC. What in the actual fuck is wrong with me? Will I be able to find answers of who killed my parents? Was my brothers untimely death really an accident or a cover up? I just hope that me and my best friend Erica with the help of Rip and his club, will be able to uncover the truth... and live to tell their story and grant them the justice that they deserve. 9/28/2020 highest rank: #4 biker 12/24/2020 highest rank: #1 Brute
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