I Write Like Novels & Stories

So mind it. I will update tomorrow... But why I wrote these things😳. I like bold and italics. What's your favorite, bold, italics, normal.? I am leaving, or else I will ask more🤧. Careful don't leave without commenting 😊

Stephanie stated. "I am not writing it." I smiled. "I have to figure all these things in my head. I have tons of things to work on." “You seems to be really into the character.” Samuel stated. “Are writer really able to relate to their characters’ emotions that much?” I just smiled and we continued eating.

I liked Tristan’s silence and Alex’s warmth and Marilyn’s softness. I liked waking up without wondering where my mother had run off to that morning. I liked walking into a kitchen where someone asked if I wanted breakfast instead of telling me to search for spare change. I liked being something other than a problem. But liking things got people killed. My throat tightened. I lowered my pen to the paper. I didn’t write sentences. I didn’t write everything in order. I wrote the truth in scattered pieces — enough for them to understand what I couldn’t say out loud.

📖(✿˶˘ ³˘)~♡ MIMO'S POV (｡❛ᴗ❛｡)📖 I go out of the room, sulking and scowling. I really hate him to the bone! How can he say that my writing style is trash? Even my story is incredible as well. How dare he say that to me! But that doesn't make me feel down, and I will make him say that my story is good!

Even me as the writer don't know but it is very hot! Have a nice day. Please do like, comment, follow me up. Thank you

Still letting her touch them. She pulled me up. Both hands on my face. Made me look at her. Those blue-green eyes. Steady. Sure. Holding me from somewhere I couldn’t reach to push away. “Write about me.” “What?” “In your essays. Your notes. Wherever you put the things you can’t say out loud. Write about me the way I wrote about you. I want to exist in your words too.” “I can’t write like you.” “You don’t have to write like me. You just have to write like you.”

I am a rather shy person. I am short, petite, blond, and smiling. A good girl like many others. I believe in true love. I believe in world peace. I believe I will become a great writer. I believe in love at first sight. I believe that Chips and ice cream go well together. And I believe that teenage life is the hardest of all.

He leans in and grabs me by the back of my neck. I have i*n*s*t*g*r*a*m--- author_pixie. Slide into my dms if you'd like to chat. I love talking to my reader besties.

“Tell me about yourself.” Wow. She thought. Dig deep. “It’s . . . it’s weird. I know some things, like, oh, I can read, understand, think I’m pretty and I'm a graduate but I don’t remember taking class. I think I don't like alcohols and dogs and I'm freaking rich and famous . . .” I swallowed the lump forming in her throat, and forced my lips to move around my immobile teeth.