{ UNDER CONSTRUCTION } "Before I knew the right choice, I had to stop talking and listen. Not listen to my heart, but listen to him . . ." Jazzmyn Tomas, eighteen, international model, die-hard tobyMac fan. When her best friend, her only girl friend, forces her to see the concert . . . Fates flip, minds boggle, hearts shatter and Justin Bieber calls her "British banana" . . .Don't ask. One thing is certain as this story progresses, one boy won't give up until he has her in his arms. UPDATE: I apologize for this being the most Carrot fanfic you've ever read ever! I was 12, do that math.

What would you do when you wake up on your birthday to find your parents gone? Midnight didn't know how to react. Men came for her and she listened to her only instincts: run and hide! And that's what she did for the rest of her life. In a town she meets special people and then They come. What does she do when she wants to save the people she cares about? She does what she does best, she runs.

It's been almost twenty years since Liam has had contact with Harry, his ex-fiancé. He moved on and had a pretty good life. But one day, he decides to write to Harry, who is now a famous singer. Dear Harry. Will those two words be able to alter their lifes all over again? What happens when all of their past comes back up, good and bad?

I bullied the nerd that was known as 'Freak boy' and other various names, little did I know that that would be my biggest regret...

Sophia, Simple,Sophisticated, and maybe a bit of stupid when she finds out she might be pregnant with an unknown man's baby. She meets Harry, he's humorous, happy, and definitely handsome. He comes at a bad point in her life, and she feels like she's in a perfect world when she's with him. There life's collide, and she knows she should tell him the truth. Things like him, things like the baby, they're unexpected. Something that no one saw coming, but are both something she needed. She needed the Handsome Harry. (I suck at these, sorry!)

Sometimes I feel as if I should receive an award for staying strong for so long. When it becomes almost habit to fake a smile everyday and to hardly ever cry no matter how awful I feel is tough. I make it through though. It's life. I feel like crying is a sign of weakness. I guess that's why I hardly ever cry in front of people or even alone for that matter. Only a few people can see the sorrow deep in my eyes. I hide it with laughter and a smile everyday. I'm good at hiding my true feelings and that's not always a good thing. I tend to bottle up my feelings until I burst. I either yell, scream, and fight or I just sit alone and cry for hours. I've only cracked to one person and she is my best friend. She's always been there for me and is like the little sister I never had, but always wanted. No one else has gotten through me yet. I don't know if anyone ever will either. Maybe someday ill find someone that can make my sorrow and pain go away. Maybe someday ill find someone who loves me for me. Maybe someday is sooner than I expect. Maybe it's right around the corner. Can she find love? Will that love be what she expects? Find out in The Bad Boy by bellebug23. Don't steal my story! This is 100% mine. If you find someone that stole it please report them to me after ranting them out and also reporting them! Thank you and enjoy:)*COMPLETED* ALL RIGHTS RESERVED @bellebug23©

Just a series of 31 short stories written near midnight during the month of August. 31 Days of August - The (Im)Perfection Dare.

'Fact: British guys are not cute. Never have been; never will be!' Meet Nora. During the day, she's a crazed, Irish student trying to survive the insanity which is London. At night, she's a blogger, trying to prove to the world that British guys are just not as cute as everyone seems to think they are! And then, while running late to one of her classes, she runs into Milo, full-time womaniser, part-time crown prince of the UK...

Cuts raced up and down his arms, over more scars caused by a razor. As he lied on his bathroom floor, the blood dripping off his arm, painting a picture on the floor. He got to his feet; slowly and trying not to make a noise. He had relapsed, and hard this time. It was over five months ago when he stopped cutting; but today he just felt to low. The voices inside his head got to loud, and he needed them quiet. He washed off his arms, them cleaned up all the blood and wrapped his arm up. He walked out of the bathroom, head hung and shoulder dropped as he pulled down his long sleeve jacket and return to the boys. He had to be brave, but he also needed someone to save him. He was falling to pieces, and needed someone to super glue him back together and protect him. He was Niall Horan, and he needed a super hero. [Completed; 1-19-2014 ] © wxnderlessdreams 2014