Fakenames Histoires

Edited ✅️ Don't judge She is the Sharma princess-beautiful, rare grey eyes, calm on the outside but a total Sherni inside. Smart, savage, and independent, YN Sharma only bows her head to love and family. He is the Kapoor bad boy-cold, feared, ruthless, yet secretly soft for just one person. Tahir Kapoor may be every girl's dream, but he's obsessed with only one girl... the same girl who calls him her enemy and best friend at the same time. Their story isn't just about romance-it's about friendship, endless fights, protectiveness, jealousy, family bonds, and a love so powerful it can set the whole world on fire. Read it, I know you won't regret ! ~ Darkside_jc ♥︎

The following is a true story. The names and places are changed to protect privacy. Thank you

This is about the author's (Dianne) very unexpected dream that has a person she doesn't even really talk to or know too well...stay tuned and contiue reading to know what exactly happened

Maxine likes being in the background, and really is only worried about one thing. All she wants is to go to college. When a mistake is made while trying to get revenge on a classmate, she becomes the next teen music heart throb. A gender less, mute, heart throb that everyone wants to unmask the mystery behind. Who is Ryan Max really?

LA ORGANIZACÍON 4 At 22, Angellica Flores should've been celebrating. She had just graduated-top of her class, the first in her family to earn a college degree. Her parents cried during the ceremony. Her siblings clapped the loudest. Her name was called, and for a moment, everything felt like it was falling into place. But beneath her gown, she was already showing. She had kept the pregnancy quiet, not out of shame, but out of fear. The boy who promised forever had vanished the moment she told him. No calls. No messages. Just silence. So she walked across the stage alone, diploma in one hand, a child growing inside her. Her family didn't turn away. Her mother helped her set up prenatal appointments. Her father built a crib from scrap wood. Her siblings took turns reading baby books aloud, laughing at the awkward diagrams. When her son was born, Angellica held him close and whispered: "You're not a mistake. You're my beginning." She didn't chase the boy. She didn't ask why. Instead, she started small-selling handmade baby items online, using her business degree to track inventory and build a brand. Orders trickled in. Then flooded. She expanded. Hired staff. Opened a storefront. By 27, she was running a full-scale baby goods company, known for its warmth, quality, and story. Her son, now five, sometimes sat in her office coloring beside her desk. Her parents still visited every Sunday, bringing food and folding laundry like nothing had changed. Angellica would look at her boy, then at the business she built, and whisper: "We did it, anak. We're okay." And this time, she didn't just mean survival. She meant joy. STATUS: PENDING

This is about my life and things that go on, I will not be using real names or anything, just made up names I will only update when dramatic things go on

"Innocent by day, mafia by night." Currently working on this story :D cove made me, the great apple;) i think theres gonna be 15-16 chapters at most so hold on😫

This is based on two people in meh class that I personally ship and they would make a great couple hehe unfortunately i can't use there names. lol

Based on True Events

Not from roblox :D

Hi, I'm in middle school now. After chatting online with my friends online. I fell for one of them ever since fourth grade summer break ending. I never had a friend that was a girl active online. So I only talked to the boys. It then came a hobby and habit. But when summer break was done, going into 5th grade was okay. My heart broke and I gave up on him. But did I really?

A half true story

LA ORGANIZACÍON 2 At just 18, Jared Anizar was already being groomed for office. His family name was a legacy-spoken in senate halls, etched into school plaques, printed on every invitation that arrived at their estate. His cousins were councilors. His aunt, a senator. His father, a former cabinet minister who spoke in soundbites even at breakfast. But Jared didn't want to lead rallies. He wanted to listen to heartbeats. He kept his dream folded inside his biology textbooks, hidden beneath the speeches he was forced to memorize. At night, while his family debated policy in the living room, Jared watched surgical procedures on mute, tracing the lines of the human body with quiet reverence. Then came the gala. It was supposed to be his debut-his first public appearance as "the next Anizar." His suit was tailored. His speech, ghostwritten. His name, printed in gold on the program. But halfway through the event, Jared slipped out the back door. He walked for hours, ending up at a small clinic near the edge of town. The lights were still on. Inside, a nurse was tending to a child with a broken arm. Jared watched through the glass, heart aching with clarity. That night, he made a decision. He would apply to med school in secret. He would work part-time at the clinic. He would become the kind of Anizar no one expected. He didn't tell his father. He didn't tell anyone. But every time he passed the family portraits in the hallway, he whispered to himself: "Not a politician. Not this time." STATUS : PENDING

Nene raised her head, her hair gently swinging, as she looked up at him. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and tears in her ruby eyes, "What am I... doing wrong, Hanako?" she whispered, remorse flooding her voice. Hanako stood, silently watching her, his head tilted down towards her, and shook his head. She released a shaky sigh, her hands gripping tightly onto her skirt. Inhale Exhale Inhale also available on Archive of Our Own.

Dear Natasha, I know. There may be no battle but I'm mad, mad at what you did. You ruined a friendship, and you only have yourself to blame... Well that's what I thought anyway, I'm not and I don't think I ever could be. I'm not saying that I'm not mad I'm just a little bit more sad than anything not because I don't think I could handle losing anymore friends but rather that I couldn't stand to lose you. And if you want to know why I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out...

LA ORGANIZACÍON 6 Veatrice Mante was trained to pose before she could spell her name. Her mother was a runway legend-gracing billboards, magazine covers, and fashion weeks across continents. People called her "The Silhouette," a woman who could command silence with a single glance. Veatrice grew up backstage, surrounded by lights, fabrics, and the scent of hairspray. At five, she learned posture. At seven, she learned how to walk in heels. By ten, she knew how to smile without showing nerves. Her mother was her coach, her mirror, her fiercest critic. "Elegance is discipline," she'd say, adjusting Veatrice's shoulders before a shoot. "You don't just wear beauty-you become it." Veatrice didn't resist. Not at first. She loved the thrill of transformation, the way a camera could freeze a moment and make it eternal. But as she grew older, she began to wonder: was she chasing her mother's shadow, or building her own light? At 16, she walked her first runway. At 18, she signed with a major agency. But behind the glamour, Veatrice was studying-business, branding, psychology. She wanted to understand the machine behind the image. She wanted to own it. By 25, she launched her own modeling academy. Not just for the beautiful-but for the brave. For girls who didn't fit the mold. For boys who were told they couldn't. For anyone who wanted to speak through movement, not just mimic it. Her mother attended the opening, dressed in black, eyes glistening. "You didn't follow my footsteps," she whispered. "You built your own runway." Veatrice smiled, adjusted her posture, and said: "I learned from the best." STATUS: PENDING

This is about a time when I could have chosen to stand by a watch, but I instead chose to help. This is my entry for the #WonderTheMovie contest. This is an emotional story for me. I almost cried while typing it. Keeping it at only 500 words was very hard, but it was a requirement. Please vote, comment, and share this story.

I looked at my friends faces, studying them closely before finally speaking. "I've been lying to you all for the past three years. My name isn't Jack McCarthy. It's Sean. Sean William McLoughlin." Jack McCarthy, or Sean McLoughlin, has been in witness protection programme for the past 15 years. He finally got the okay to be Sean again when they caught his criminal father and could tell his friends who he really is. Will they ever forgive him for lying to them? Will Mark?