Luke's ass sits on a throne at the top of the social chain, but with popularity comes limitations. Don't do this; don't do that; you like which movie? As Luke loses sight of who he is, Ari Quiroz steps into his life. Spunky and loudmouthed, the fearless Filipino teen inadvertently shows Luke what it's like to live life without barricades. However, with the fear of being a freak and the temptations of popularity luring him in, Luke has to decide what's more important. If drunk words are sober thoughts, then Luke Hemmings is in for one hell of a hangover. ✖ OFFICIAL winner of the 2015 Watty's in the "Talk of the Town" category. #233 in Random - 06 February 2015 #911 in Fanfiction - 25 February 2015 #576 in Fanfiction - 23 May 2015 #130 in Fanfiction - 29 May 2015 #91 in Fanfiction - 24 June 2015 #9 in Fanfiction - 5 July 2015 #2 in Fanfiction - 15 July 2015 TRIGGER WARNINGS: Depression, Suicide, Bullying, Vulgar Language ✖ Started on: 19 July 2014 Completed on: 3 June 2015 Reviewed by Emily of Wattmag issue #4.

"Why is green your favorite color?" "Because it's the color of your eyes." Long time best friends, Luke and Autumn, spend their first year of college living together. They would say unexpected love is the best type of love. Copyright © fluffycashton 2018. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

When sixteen-year-old, Anastasia 'Annie' Evans, finds out that her mother's newly-engagement comes with having a stepbrother, she starts to develop a certain attachment to him; not knowing that she's about to embark on a euphoric adventure full of lust, lies, and secrets. [highest ranking : #1 in Fanfiction]

She had strewn her backpack to the side before she sat down outside the coffee shop. Her black oversized hoodie drowned her petite frame. The hood was pulled up over her auburn hair. As she sat on the concrete of the flower bed, her hair laid in her lap in a pool of red, brown, and all sorts of light refracting colors. Her sharp cheekbones and dark, heavy makeup contrasted her pale skin. On her face were angry, raised and inflamed pink scars that raked down from above her left eye, diagonally down to above her heart. Right where her heart was, were cross-hatched slashes that had healed over and become even more angry from the ones on her face; it was as if someone had tried to rip out her heart. And that person was me.