Take Me In [The Joker x Harley Quinn ]

Summary: She was once lifeless in his arms, a perfect porcelain doll dripping of acid, and he decided to change her. Vampire AU.  Rated M.
Dedicated to my dear @juney-chan ♥ Happy birthday darling! ♥ Thank you for being a great source of inspiration.  - AO3 - FF

She stepped out of the shadows, on high heels with black velvet strapped to her ankles. The men that had gathered in the street corner stopped and stared. At this time of night, the Narrows was perfect for business.

“Pumpkin?” A low, threatening voice drifted out from behind her.

“Right here, puddin’.” Her red lips parted in a big, welcoming smile, teeth glimmering in the dim light from the street lamps. She took another step out into the street, approaching the men, and whistles and shouts flew through the air. Harley giggled and made a little pirouette, presenting her black skintight leather suit from all angles.

In one swift movement she was standing in front of one of the men, staring him up and down and nodding approvingly. “You’re cute.”

“Hey, sexy-”

“Sorry boys, I ain’t got no time to play!”

Her hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him close. His eyes widened just as she let her lips sweep across his throat, before biting down, crushing flesh and arteries. Warm, wet blood filled her mouth and she buried her nails into his chest. The other men cheered on loudly, drunken and confused calls bouncing off the walls.

Harley withdrew with a grimace, shuddering at the unclean taste. The man slumped over her shoulder and she shook him off, seeing the pool of blood staining his shirt.

She winked at the others and blew a kiss. “I hope you’ll be good boys, or I’ll hunt you down!”

“Now Harley, why don’t you wait your turn?”

He came strolling out of the dark, his big toothy grin shocking the men into silence. It didn’t falter as he stopped, meeting the shocked gazes of his preys. The men started backing off instinctively, shattering into different directions. One made a run for it and Harley dashed after him, quicker than a snake attacking, disappearing into the shadows with an acrobatic leap. “We ain’t done yet!”

“You’re welcome to join us tonight”, Joker reassured the others with a maniacal smile. “The fun has just started!” He picked something up from his pocket, the thick, slightly curved blade gleaming ominously. He stroked the knife tenderly with his fingertips. “It’s been aching all night! Which one of you gentlemen would like to start?”

None of them stayed to honor his invitation, but their escape attempts were wasted; his beloved knife wanted to play just as much as he did. He caught one of the men around the waist and threw him onto the ground. Joker skipped over to him, giggling to himself as he heard the sound of the spine cracking.


Harley rose from the ground, a bit unsteadily, and dusted herself off. The corpse at her feet was already cold and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then let the loud screams guide her back through the dark streets. A part of her wanted to continue the hunt now when she had started, to follow the trails all around her into alleys and gates.

The alcohol from the blood she’d consumed made her a bit unfocused, but at least the guy had not been a junkie. Last time she had been crawling back through the street afterwards, trying to keep herself from falling over into a heap as the street turned violently around her.

The Narrows reminded her vaguely of another time, when she had been hurrying home from work through the streets on high heels, purse close to her body, keys at ready, always prepared to scream. Harley blinked a few times, seeing the world sway slightly as she passed through, police sirens in the distance not bothering her.

It was the primetime of jokes, of playtime.

“I’m back!” She entered the street just in time to see Joker rise from the remains of a body, that had been split from the head to toe. He licked a few drops of red from his thick blade.

“Daddy’s busy,” he mumbled, turning towards the last, half-dead body.

Harley walked over, trying to keep from swaying too much, smiling from ear to ear. She could vaguely hear some of the henchmen talk about the police coming. She threw her head back and breathed deeply, feeling the rustic smell of blood, alcohol and metallic, and the very scent that was the Joker. The smells were all around, intoxicating.

Six corpses were spread out nicely, big red smiles on their faces. The blood had welled out of their skinned bodies and flooded down the street, and she realized he still hadn’t drunk much. A tense anticipation settled within her when she saw his eyes, that were barely a hue darker than usual. His ability to resist always confused her.

“Ya think they’ll get here in time?” she giggled. “It’s like the good old days… The clubs, blocked exits, no survivors…” She grinned, only to hear a few heavy steps in her direction, before his hand closed around her throat.

His eyes stared straight at her in a way that made her entire body shiver, gasping for air. He walked her backwards, until she felt the solid brick wall against her back. Harley thrust her hips forward, desperately trying to touch him, but he stayed just out of reach.

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Moonlight and Memories [Kanato Sakamaki X Reader]

              The night was so very quiet. It was a cool autumn night as you lied in your soft, king-sized bed, your (e/c) eyes still wide open. On nights like this you couldn’t sleep. You hated how quiet it was; the silence always put you on edge. When things were like this you always expected some random vampire to jump out of nowhere and immediately began sucking your blood… though more of Laito and Ayato’s appearances than the others.

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Name: Vivian Brooks
Age: Twenty
Class Year: Junior
Position: Vixen, Captain
Hometown: New Canaan, Connecticut


She’s beautiful, they’ve said about her ever since the moment she was born. She’s perfect. Her parents—a preeminent plastic surgeon and a former model (and his favorite customer)—would have allowed nothing less. From the moment she was born, perfectly tiny and pink-cheeked, her parents wanted the world to see her: she was the baby in the advertisements, smiling her toothless baby smile to sell baby food, baby’s clothes, diapers. And, as she grew older, there were only more opportunities, more things she could sell.

Her mother was her manager: she managed her career, her appearance, her life. Vivian’s parents frowned on children’s roughhousing: they didn’t want a daughter with scrapes on her knees and grass stains on her clothes. No, they wanted a perfect porcelain doll, played with and then put back on the shelf, kept safe until it was time for her to be taken down again. She was what her mother made her to be, always prim and proper and soft-spoken. In childhood, with parents who treated her more like a very small adult as opposed to a child desperately trying to be one, she hid behind them. She was pretty, of course, but painfully shy. Her mother cared little for making sure her daughter attended birthday parties or made friends, she’d rather take the train ride to New York to audition for a commercial—and make her cry the whole trip home if she didn’t book it.

After a solitary childhood, friendship finally came her way in middle school, and she was no longer content to spend her weekends at auditions and casting calls, doing screen tests and photoshoots. But mom, she’d whine, we were supposed to go to the mall. Her mother didn’t care, but Vivian fretted: how long could she keep her new friends if they always had to hang out without her? They seemed to find her life glamorous and interesting, because she told tall tales only of the commercials she’d shot and the jobs she booked, and nothing of the many she didn’t—and nothing of her mother’s bitter disappointment, the constant tally she kept of all that was lacking in her daughter’s appearance.

And, in her gangly preteen years, those jobs seemed to dry up almost completely. Vivian dreaded her weekends with her mother, would cry until she was sick at the prospect of another audition, another failure—until her mother found a job that might be her daughter’s big break. A children’s television show, and Vivian made it through preliminary auditions, unbelievably surmounted each and every hurdle—until it was time for a final screen test. She let herself hope that this would be it: everything her mother wanted for her and everything, therefore, she believed she wanted for herself. Her friends were beside themselves with excitement for her, and her mother was at her side with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes—no, those seemed to carry a warning: don’t fuck it up. When the time came, tongue-tied and starstruck, she forgot her first line. Her failure built to a crescendo of bungled lines and held-back tears and her scene partner’s rudeness. And as she hiccoughed in the seat next to her mother on the way home, she swore she would never do any of it again. She wasn’t going to be a model or an actress. She was done.

Her mother took her  failure as a personal slight, and it became dinner table fodder for years afterward, how ungrateful Vivian was for the opportunities she had been given, how she must have done it on purpose. When Vivian flat-out refused to do even a single audition afterwards, locking herself in her bedroom and promising to only mess it all up again if her mother tried to drag her, it only reinforced her mother’s narrative of victimhood.

She was a porcelain doll that wanted to be a real girl, and her mother had no interest in her when she no longer wanted to be posed and played with. Soon it seemed like she hardly noticed Vivian unless it was to sniff at how difficult teenagers were, or to offer some cutting remark about whatever aspect of her daughter’s appearance she found lacking that week. And so Vivian turned her attention to high school, something much easier to conquer than show business, than fame. Head cheerleader with a bouncing ponytail, the reward after a childhood full of dance lessons, Vivian ate up the attention, full of sickly-sweet smiles for boys and the subtle cutting cruelty that she’d learned at her mother’s knee for all the girls that weren’t her chosen companions. She wasn’t an actress, she wasn’t a model, but she was the ruler of her own small slice of the world, and that was enough.


Having always planned her future out for her without ever asking for her input, Vivian’s parents had their eyes set on an Ivy League. But Vivian was done with what her parents wanted for her and had grown used to being a disappointment, and so she set her sights southward and wouldn’t let their pursed lips or pointed words dissuade her. She picked Palmetto State almost at random, just one school out of many that fulfilled a simple list of criteria—the most important of which that it was twelve hours away from home. Trying out for the Vixens was an easy decision: she’d been a cheerleader in high school and so she would be one again, and she showed up in the spring with absolute assurance in her abilities, and easily earned herself a place on the squad. 

And, from the moment she first donned her Vixen uniform, she had a single goal in mind: become Captain. She knew what it was like to be forgotten, a doll on a shelf, and she decided taht she wouldn’t settle for obscurity or second-best—she won’t settle for anything less than Queen. And so she pursued that goal with a single-minded intensity, earning herself the captaincy her second year on the squad. She wasn’t surprised, she hadn’t expected anything less than victory—but what did surprise her was how much it meant to her. More than power, more than a metaphorical crown, she wants the Vixens to succeed, and wants the Foxes to as well—wants them to win, with Vivian and the Vixens behind them, cheering every step of the way. 


Steal Your Heart (Part I of II)

Pairing: You x Luhan

Summary: When he spends more and more time with another girl

Warnings: Angst (compensated by fluff because I love happy endings ^__^)

“This is Likun,” Luhan said brightly, smiling back and forth between me and the petite girl as I stood up and quickly shook her hand, a little flustered.

“Hi,” I said as politely as I could, watching as Likun smiled prettily back at me. “Luhan’s told me a lot about you!”

Likun was Luhan’s childhood best friend, or so he had told me. They had been inseparable until they were fourteen, when Likun had left China to study overseas in America and now, ten years later, she was back permanently for her job. 

When Luhan found out, he had been beyond excited to reconnect with her again, and I told him I looked forward to meeting her soon. But not this soon. To my surprise, Luhan had brought her unannounced with him today to the cafe, where we had arranged to meet on my lunch break. I had been looking forward to the hour in the middle of the day where I would have my boyfriend all to myself; I thought it was just going to be Luhan and I on our little date, and my smile faltered slightly when Luhan pulled a chair out for Likun and prompted her to sit down.

Apparently not.

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Seth Rollins x Reader

You and Seth are expecting your first baby. You are due any day now and he is home from his wrestling tour to make sure he doesn’t miss a minute of your child being born. 

You wake up in the middle of the night yet again with the urge to pee. You sigh and sit up on the bed causing your husband, Seth Rollins, to stir. He rolls over and rubs his eyes before he looks up at you. “Are you okay?? Is it time??” His eyes open wide at the thought of you being labor. “No. Its just another trip to the bathroom… Your child likes to use my bladder as a pillow.” You spit back with the annoyance of not being able to get a good nights sleep anymore. Seth laughs a little and helps you swing you legs over the side of the bed and then stand up. He sits on the side of the bed to help you lay back down when you are done. You waddle to the bathroom running your fingers through your hair in frustration. 

You finish your business in the bathroom and look in the mirror and sigh at the sight of yourself. Your hair a complete mess and eyes accented with a nice pair of dark circles. You turned to the side to see your huge stomach in all its glory. It still blew you mind to think that there was a little baby inside you. You brush your bed head out and then make your way back to the bedroom. Seth had fallen asleep waiting for you to come back. You took sometime to just watch him sleep. He looked so peaceful and relaxed… It made you so mad at the moment because you would love to be able to sleep like that. Why did the baby have to take after you and be so stubborn??

The next morning while you are putting on your makeup for the day you notice that your back is hurting a little bit more than usual. You thought nothing of it and just shrugged. You finished up your hair and make up and made your way down the stairs and into the kitchen where Seth was having his morning coffee and checking his twitter. He sees you walk in and immediately gets up and walks over to you. He kisses your forehead, lips and then baby belly. You smile wrap your arms around him. He holds you tight and places his chin on your head. He sighs and pulls back to look at you. “I love you (Y/N) and our precious baby. I am so lucky to start a family with you and to have you both in my lives for the rest of my life.” You smile and kiss him on the lips again tasting his coffee. “I love you.” You two sit together and have breakfast while talking about the tasks you needed to get done today.

After a long day of errands and accompanying Seth to the gym (You sitting down at the front desk with the “extended” family as you called them. Everyone that works at your local gym knew you both personally and treated you like family.) you and Seth are sat together in the living room cuddled up and catching up on you favorite shows. He falls asleep with his arms around your waist as you finish the episode you were watching. You go to reach for the remote when you feel a sharp pain in your stomach causing you to yelp. Seth jerks awake and sits up alarmed. “What?? Whats wrong??” he starts blurting out in shock. You wince and sit up. “I don’t know I just had a pain in my stomach and…” Another hits you. “Oh my gosh you’re in labor!!” Seth yells and bolts from the couch running up stairs before you can say anything else. He returns to the living room with your bags that were already packed for this very moment. “Seth we don’t know for sure it could just be a random pain.” You wince and yelp again as another pain hits but more toward your back. “I think you’re in labor (Y/N).” He walks over to you and helps you stand up his arm around you kissing you on the forehead. “Call it a fathers intuition.” You roll your eyes and smile. Seth places his hand on your stomach. “Just think the next time we are in this house we will be carrying in our child.” 

After you two get settled into you room at the hospital your contractions really start to begin. You lay in the hospital bed breathing through the pain while Seth is beside you looking terrified. He hates to see you like this and wants to make all the pain stop. He almost cries a few times but blames it on you squeezing his hand. “You are so brave (Y/N) you know that right??” He says as you finally get a break in between contractions. You give him a funny look. “You are handling his like a champ. No drugs or anything. You are a fighter and I am so proud to call you mine.” He kisses your forehead and lips. You smile and start to say something but another contraction hits causing you to fight back a scream. Seth continues to hold you hand and kiss you during the next 10 hours of labor.

It was finally time to push. Seth pulled your hair back into a pony tail for you and kissed your forehead yet again. “Babe I know this is tough and that you have been through over 12 hours of this but just think in just a few pushes you get to hold our baby and it will be all over.” He takes your hand and stands beside you. You push and fight back more screams. After 10 mins of pushing and Seth being in you hear encouraging you you finally did it. You heard the cries of your baby girl. You lay your head back on the pillow going limp. Finally it was over. Seth cuts the cord and you look over at him. He is in complete awe. You wish you had a picture of his face right now. Mouth open eyes wide. If you had the energy you would laugh. The doctors bring you baby girl over to you all cleaned up. She looks like a perfect little porcelain doll in her soft pink blanket. Her little eyes shiny with her first tears. You kiss her little nose and wipe away a few of your own tears. Seth wraps an arm around you and sits beside you as much as he can on the bed. He looks down at his baby and fights back tears. The tears win the fight and he pets her soft newborn hair. “She is so perfect. Her little hands and her little ears. Oh my gosh her nose.” He kisses her on the forehead and her little noes scrunches up at the feeling of his beard on her skin. You two laugh and kiss each other.

Later that night you wake up in the hospital bed after many hours of that deep sleep that you have been longing for. You look over to find Seth holding his baby in his arms talking to her in a soft voice as she sleeps. Both his arms wrapped protectively around her. You knew right then that she is going to have the hardest time ever doing anything because Seth is going to keep her on the shortest leash. You smile to yourself and just watch them for a while. Your perfect little family. Your perfect little world. 

DenNor AUs to Consider
  1. Actor AU where the only reason Denmark and Norway bond at first is because they have a lot of scenes together.
  2. Ballet AU where Denmark and Fem!Nor get a lot of the lead parts together.
  3. Coffee Shop AU where Denmark is an author and Norway works at the coffee shop. They properly meet through Finland.
  4. Dentist AU in which child!Iceland is transferred to a new dentist. Single Parent!Norway doesn’t know the dentist and is afraid of how Iceland will feel about them. When Iceland comes out laughing Norway demands to know who the dentist was.
  5. High School/Gakuen AU where Denmark is in the band while Fem!Nor is a cheerleader and they meet during one of the games when the band purposely speeds up the pep music to screw with the cheerleaders.
  6. High School/Gakuen AU where Denmark and Norway are nerds and part of the chess club.
  7. High School/Gakuen AU where Denmark has no legs or legs that are cut off at the knees. Norway is new to the school and shares one or more class with Denmark.
  8. High School/Gakuen AU where Denmark is sort of popular because he’s such a huge dork. Norway takes the bus to school because his family is too poor to buy and keep a car. They properly meet after Denmark sticks up against Norway’s bullies.
  9. Human AU in which Denmark is born into a poor family but is one of the most cheerful people ever. Norway is born into a rich family and seems to be a perfect porcelain doll. They meet each other during the holiday season when Denmark is trying to find something he can get for his mother using the money he saved throughout the year.
  10. YouTube AU where Denmark and Norway are a popular comedians so they end up getting to know each other through collaborations and YouTube conventions.

1. I want to be so tiny men fear they’ll crush me in their arms.
And then I want them to do it anyways.

2. I want to be so frail that a gust of wind could blow me away, far far away so that I get lost in every way possible.

3. I want to be delicate. I want a man to stroke my cheek like it’s made of glass and be terrified of how easily I could shatter.

4. I want to be a porcelain doll, tiny, frail, and delicate. I want to be perfect.

5. I guess in many ways I already am a porcelain doll. Put up away on a forgotten shelf, stuck behind old dusty glass watching everything else go by.

6. I just wanted to be perfect. Perfect like a porcelain doll. Instead of tiny, frail, and delicate I’ve become just another forgotten object, sitting alone collecting dust and cobwebs, wishing I was something more.

—  I wanted to be a porcelain doll, instead I become nothing

Ivy let out a sigh, sneaking away to the bathroom during class when she was sure no one else would be there. She opened up her back back and laid out her makeup, the bruise on her cheek was beginning to show through, and she didn’t want to tell anyone she had gotten in a physical fight with her brother. No. They had to be perfect. Perfect…porcelain…dolls. She reapplied the makeup, part of the purple still standing through. “Fuck…” She swore- her face flushing slightly. She would’ve never even dared uttering the words had someone else been there, that’s why she jumped so high when she spotted someone in the corner of her eyes. “J-jeez! You! You scared me!”

Counting On It - drarry

“What would you do if I told you I loved you?”

Draco looked up from his Potions book, raising an eyebrow at Harry, who was sitting at the edge of his bed, fidgeting nervously with the sleeve of his jumper.

“I would first inquire as to whether you’d hit your head, then ask if you’d like to see Madame Pomfrey.” he replied. “Have you hit your head Potter?”


“Then would you like to see Madame Pomfrey?”

“Draco I’m being serious.”

Draco frowned uncomfortably. Harry only ever called him by name when he was deadly serious. Even though they’d agreed to be friends several months before, they still called each other by last names, more out of habit than anything. Draco sighed, and put down his book. 

“You’re not in love with me Harry,” he said patiently.

“Yes I am.”

“You might think so, but you’re not.” 

Harry glared. “And how would you know what I feel?”

“Because I’ve seen you in love, and it’s not anything like this.” Draco reminded him. “Do you want me to call the Weaslette down here? She’s the one you should be declaring this love to, not me.”

“Ginny and I weren’t working out, the spark or whatever is gone and I don’t feel anything romantic for her anymore,” Harry insisted.

“That’s just fatigue from the war. By all means take a break, but go back to her. She’s a good girl.” 

“I don’t want a good girl.” Harry muttered.

“Then what do you want?”

“A bad boy?” Harry shrugged, quirking a smirk in Draco’s direction.

Draco shook his head with a smile. “Idiot. Bad boys will get you burned,” he said fondly. “You don’t want a bad boy Harry we’re far too dangerous.”

“I’m Harry Potter, danger’s my middle name.” Harry went on.

“And here I thought it was James,”

“Hardly a difference really.” Harry shrugged.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I still think you’re misplacing your feelings.”

“I’m not 12 Draco, stop patronizing me.” Harry snapped. “I’ve been thinking about this for months, and longer than that I’ve never been able to get you out of my head since before I can remember. Whether it was to curse you out or just to wonder where you were I’ve been thinking of you for over 6 years straight. I think that means something.”

“Really. I think it doesn’t. You do recall you almost killed me yes? You think I’d trust you if we were together?”

Harry winced, eyes darting to the ground in guilt. Draco bit his lip, sighing. That hurt to say. 

“I didn’t mean that.”

“No it’s okay, I understand.” Harry said sadly. “You have every right to not trust me after that, and I wouldn’t expect someone like you to love someone like me anyway,”

“What do you mean someone like me?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “You speak as though I’m above you.”

“You’re practically royalty.”

“Not anymore, our name is mud at the Ministry, however high I pretend to hold my head.”

“Even still, you’re refined and graceful and elegant and beautiful and perfect. You’re like a porcelain doll you’re gorgeous and expensive. I’m a ratty middle-class uneducated idiot with broken glasses.” Harry ranted.

“Harry…” Draco raised both eyebrows. He didn’t really think of all those things when he thought of Draco…did he?

“N-Nevermind, I knew it was stupid, I’ll - I’ll just…go,” Harry shuffled awkwardly off the and headed towards the bed, cheeks flaming red. But he stopped at Draco’s voice.

“I do love you.”

Harry spun around, eyes wide with disbelief. 

Draco gnawed at his bottom lip nervously, looking down at his hands.

“I’ve always loved you. I just…” he sighed, looking up at Harry. “I don’t don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret later because of a rushed decision. I won’t be your mistake Harry, and no offence but I’m going to let a speckled git break my heart more times than I’ve already let him.”

“Would this ‘speckled git’ be me by any chance? How have I already broken your heart?” Harry wondered.

“By not being mine, stupid handsome idiot.” Draco griped. “And I’m not about to go through getting you than losing you once you realise what the hell you’re doing, come to your senses and go marry a Weasley.”

“How about this?” Harry grinned. “You and your friends have my full permission to come after me with pitchforks if I do something wrong.”

“I guess that’s a deal I can make,” Draco sighed. “But I’m warning you, I get downright possessive, anyone so much as looks at you in a way I don’t like, you’ll have trouble on your hands.”

Harry smirked. “Counting on it.”

anonymous asked:

How did your skin become so flawless porcelain doll perfect????

  1. (just a disclaimer) in-person, my skin is not as perfect as it shows up in pictures. I got pretty good at makeup and stuff, but I still do get acne!!
  2. so no product ever worked for my skin, and i tried just about everything. it wasn’t until about a year or two ago i found out that it was just small things i was doing wrong that were affecting my skin. here are some things i changed that really helped (I’m not a dermatologist obviously but I’ve struggled with acne since the 4th grade so I’ve learned a few things)
  • cutting milk/other dairy products out of my diet  - this also helped me lose a lot of weight! 

  • drinkin a whole lot of water - seriously drink a few glasses a day, water is so important. don’t drink like 20 glasses tho b/c you’ll probably get really sick

  • putting a fresh towel on your pillow every night - it’s hard to remember to change the towel every night, but yeah. there’s a lot of oils and dust mites on your pillows that cause ur skin to break out. also wash your sheets regularly if you can!!

  • try to avoid scented soaps - unless they are made for sensitive skin, scented soaps can be an irritant for acne. you can still use them on your arms and legs and armpits to get clean, but you should definitely avoid using them on your chest/shoulders/back/face. if you absolutely NEED to wash those places with a soap, try finding a natural brand that is for acne prone skin.

  • don’t use a billion different products on your acne - this one seems simple but i still know people who torture their skin with all these acne products, and it ends up making it worse. Using all these products one after another strips the natural oils in your face and can cause dryness, redness, irritation, etc. stick to 1-2 daily treatment methods!!

  • moisturize your skin - I recommend Aveeno daily lotion, it’s very gentle and unscented and as far as i know does not cause acne flare-ups. use it on your face as well as neck/back/shoulders/p much everywhere b/c you should be moisturizing your body. there are also moisturizers that are specifically for treating acne! 

  • (adding to the moisturizing thing) I also really like Aloe Vera (yes the stuff u use on sun burns) it helps reduce redness and a whole lot of other super good things!!

I hope that helps!! 

anonymous asked:

Here's what happened... Calvin loves Taylor. Taylor loves Calvin. Awesome great amazing love story. But this isn't a fairytale love story this is real life. Things happen. Taylor meets Tom and she falls for him. She feels bad about but it she can't deny it. She breaks up with him to be with Tom because she couldn't live with herself if she carried on with Calvin knowing she didn't feel the way she should. Calvin thought things were perfect. They were. This wasn't in the plan. Continued..

Calvin is hurt and he’s upset. The timing couldn’t have been worse and he feels betrayed because he did nothing wrong. Taylor knows this. Kinda think about the song Breathe or Back to December when you think about this. She didn’t mean for this to happen but she hurt him. She followed her heart and in the process she broke his. She isn’t this perfect porcelain doll who gets her heart broken every time. This time it was her who broke a heart.

Originally posted by an-archangel

“How To Be Mentally Ill”

Well, first of all, wipe that frown off your face. You’re never going to get a husband looking so sour all the time.

Any of course, don’t even think about being a boy. Boys don’t feel things, and if they do, they bottle it, son. That’s just the way it is. You want to cry? Come on, I didn’t raise you like this.

Borderline? Bipolar? What are those? You’re depressed, honey. Maybe anxious, if you’re pretty enough.

While I’m at it, you’re not allowed to be anything less than a perfect porcelain doll. Ugly, fat? Sorry, depression isn’t romantic unless you’re fuckable.

Eating disorders? They’re not real. Stop being picky, we can’t go anywhere with you. And be careful, you’re losing your curves, remember what we said about being fuckable.

And listen, if you’re not able bodied we don’t want to hear about it. You’ve got enough problems, buddy, you’ve got enough sympathy. It doesn’t really count with you anyway, who could be happy, living like you do?

Are you smiling? Are you actually smiling right now? Jesus Christ, what a faker. Stop stealing the spotlight from the really sick people – not that we care about them either, but still.

And make sure you still live normally. Bathe regularly, keep a clean house, socialise. What are you, lazy? Come on, how can we feel sorry for you when you’re basically creating these problems yourself?

Do you exercise for 30 minutes daily? Have you tried going vegetarian? Honestly, when I’m sad I just have a smoothie and go for a walk and I cheer right up! Have you given that a try?

Anti-depressants? Geez, how can you fill your body with all those chemicals? Isn’t your mind clouded? Why aren’t you some numb zombie? I hear most don’t work, anyway. But there is a herb supplement that might get you back on track.

I know you cut yourself, but what are you trying to achieve? Attention whores, the lot of you, dramatic teenage girls. If I see a scar I’m going to raise my eyebrows, probably ask you about it, or at least look away because a visual of your pain makes me uncomfortable, and that’s not very considerate now is it? What about my feelings?




What a tragedy.

So young.

So promising.

If only there was a warning sign.

If only you had sought out help.

I guess we’ll never know why.

We could have helped you.

We didn’t notice.

We’ll remember you.

Wear a band on our arm on a day marked for mental illness visibility.

We’ll say, “It’s preventable, we need to pay attention to this.”

I mean…

As long as you were pretty.

As long as you were beautiful when you cried.

- Julia Gorst