Trade MistakesOh god.
I roll my eyes. It's my friend. I know she means well, but it's annoying when people care too much sometimes.
"You need a job."
There is one problem with her suggestion. I already have a job. It's from when I wake up to when I fall asleep and it's called feeling sorry for myself. Yeah, it's a pretty demanding job. The hours are shit and so is the pay, but I am part of a million people strong network. Some people do it part time, others full time.
I work full time.
"I'll get one," I tell them. They mean well and I love them dearly, really. I mean if i loved myself as much as I loved them I would be the most concieted person on the planet. I love them that much. Maybe my love for them will pull me out of this rut and I ckinda hope it does.
Actually I'm kinda relying on that love.
Full time, kinda like my job. I think I mostly depend on their love though. When I really think about it. I need their appraisal. I need their smiles. I need the way they say 'it's ok
Anna MollySometimes I want to believe I'm different.
I brush shoulders with some girls from my school and they scoff. Did she just touch me? They're disgusted. Why? Why are they disgusted? I have the same anatomy as them. I just look different. They all look the same, like manufactured barbies that try too hard.
And physically I am.
I make my way past the different cliques and I wonder: how exactly do they look at me? Do they look at me like the barbies do? I can hear my feet, like a metronome. Clack, clack, clack. Or rather squeak, squeak, squeak because I'm wearing some worn out boots and the floor is wet.
I have never been a part of them. The cliques. I've always been alone. Yeah, I guess alone is a good word for it. I perfer self isolation. I think I gave up on humanity somewhere along the line. People were so selfish and so was I. I wanted to much more. I wanted to be different.
I was. Just not in the way I wanted to be.
I cross my arms like I'm holding up a shield because I'm starti
With A BangI don't think I'd ever meet anyone quite like her if she'd died that night.
She's sketching. I'm looking over her schoulder because I'm curious. I'm always curious when she'd doing something. It's always something incredible and fantastic and beautiful. She doubts these words when she hears them.
She's using red now. It's not bright red, or brick red, which is this weird orange-red that's just bullshit, it's this pretty scarlet red. Whatever she's drawing must be bleeding or blossoming and quite frankly it looks like both.
She's dyed her hair again. It's the same color as the crayola she's using. Her red hair goes in every which direction. It bobs with the way she moves and it expresses her firey soul which is quickly burning out. It's smoldering and I'm kind trying to bring it back to life, but it's hard.
I don't know if I can save her.
I really hope I can because it's such bullshit that someone who use to shine as bright as her is still so blinding as she's goin' out.
Let. Me. In.I put your work in my folder called home, because that's where you belong; in my heart, inside my home.
I think I found her"Who are you?"
It was a question uttered out loud in a disbelieving voice and it was a good question. Who was I? Why am I here? Who had I been? My eyes fell from her's and I kept asking myself. Was there an answer? A true answer? Not one of those cracker box answers that only gave a boring description. I couldn't give her one that was exciting either because I knew that was a lie.
"I don't know," I finally answered as I lift my gaze to see her. She looks familiar. Maybe I knew her once? She smiles at me for a brief moment and we look away. "You gonna be okay?" she asks, after a moment of hestitance of course.
"Yeah, I think so."
We share that mutual smile and I wipe at the mirror. "Good pep talk," I tell myself and she smiles again. I had lost her in a bottle of something bad. "Talk to you later?" She gives a slight bouncy nod like she's expecting me later and I smile to myself.
"I think I found her."
Game of WarI watch as the little boys play war in the front lawn of my friend's lavish summer home. Their mock sounds of pain set me on edge. A violent clash of toys imitate bombs and send the players sprawling a mere inch back, fingers and toes still intact.
Slowly I watch the little soliders seperate. The boys of today find their enemies of tommorrow in an almost indiscriminate way. "You're the bad guy!" August's boy proclaims and Martin's boy shoots back, "Why do I gotta be the bad guy!"
"Because you're the bad guy! Stop being such a baby!"
Their game is black and white. Bad is bad. Good is good. There is no detailing or shade of grey. No space for doubt in the war they play a part of. I scoff for war is no game. I can leave my home a hero possibly today and find myself to be my own enemy tommorrow for every bullet chamber I emptied into some unfortunate man's chest.
"Time for dinner!"
The little soliders march into my friend's blood money estate. I pretend to forget the game for war and all t
Black and White TragedyThe angel offered a forced smile at her reflection in the piano. It morphed slowly to show her a frown and she touched her face. No smile. She was losing her head again. Her eyes turned to the keys. Black and white. They were so simple in contrast to her reflection, vivid colors against the polished body of the piano.
Angel bowed her head respectfully as she looked down to look at her hands. They lay so gently on the keys. She took a deep inhale and closed her eyes. She pressed the first key. Off. A little too high. Her brows furrowed as continued to clink her way through the notes until she found what she was looking for.
A soft. Tadume. A noise she couldn’t describe with words or even a hum. Angel smiled a little as she tapped out a tune. Gentle and melancholy in nature and suddenly she stopped.
Her mouth opened hesitantly. What would she sing? Angel’s eyes opened and she could see Michael’s picture sitting on the piano. No care in the world. Just a big smile and bi
I was someone onceI was being born in reverse. Every nick and scratch that once made me, me, was gone. The memories. The people. Gone. I was freshly confused by my existence and instead of being conceived as a babe in my mother's womb I was born a young adult; stripped of personality but not of my worldly knowledge. Being left void of who I was made me cry out to the ears that would listen.
Don't Listen to Labels--Spain x Child!Male!Reader
Antonio sat in the park, his back against the tree as he tied blades of grass into knots. He was tired of all the labels that were put on him. Just because he raised and cared for Romano, doesn't mean that's he's a pedophile! Sometimes he wished he could just disappear. Whether they were jokes or not, they still hurt him. He loves children! They're wonderful and delightful to be around.
Suddenly a soccer ball rolled towards him. Turning his head, he saw a small group of children. After a few moments, the youngest walked towards him. Smiling, he waved at the Spaniard, who waved back.
"H-HI! Sorry for disturbing you....but can we have the ball back?" Antonio smiled and handed the boy the ball. Giving him a quick thanks, he turned to go back to his friends. But...he paused. Looking back at Antonio, and then back at his friends, he sighed. Waving goodbye to Antonio, he went back to his friends. After the game started up again, the Spaniard decided he had better find somewhere e
genderless gingerbread figuresI was three times three years old and had three freckles on the bridge of my nose. My brother was three years into primary school and had just learnt his three times tables. Our parents had recently divorced and our father took us to the fairground to meet his new girlfriend.
My brother wouldn’t ride on the teacups with me because they were ‘too girly’, so I rode on them alone. I loved the teacups best of all because they made me feel really small, like Thumbelina trapped in a human’s china cabinet. I was bigger than my brother, with a belly starting to hang over my jeans like cake batter slipping over the rim of a mixing bowl, but spinning in a large pink cup with the world swirling into pastels like smudged chalk all around me, I felt as free and light as a dandelion seed being blown into oblivion. The nausea made me smile and I chastened the squeals of delight that threatened to escape, swallowing them down with gulps of air.
My brother rode on a ‘boy
The Vacation !Millie okay I packed my bags now I need to bring my purse and phone and Lucy my doll
Geo hey Millie mama wanted me to tell you to hurry up
Millie I am hurrying up
Tera Millie Geo hurry up before we miss our plane
Kilo yes honey hurry up so we don't miss our plane
T.U.F.F. Halloween- Chapter 3(A/N: Well, here's the 3rd chapter! I hope it's good enough.)
Well, as soon as Kitty and Katrina got to their houses, they gave the kids their baths before getting them in their Halloween costumes. Then Kitty called Peg, Katrina called Mrs. Katswell, and the grandmas told the cats to bring the kids over. So they did.
With the kids taken care of, Kitty went home to shower and get her costume on, but Katrina went back to T.U.F.F. to pick up Bruce so they could get ready for the Halloween party together.
At T.U.F.F., Keswick and Claire took their kids home not too long ago, and Dudley and Bruce decided it was time to go home. Katrina showed up just as they left the building, and she dropped Dudley off at his and Kitty's house before driving back to her house. Kitty had already left for the party by the time Dudley got home, so he got ready, told Bruce and Katrina that Kitty had already left for the party, so when they finished getting ready, they swung by Dud
T.U.F.F. Halloween- Chapter 2(A/N: Here's Chapter 2! I hope it's good!)
The weeks flew by, and it was finally Halloween. Everyone was excited about the holiday, and kids were looking forward to trick-or-treating so they could get candy. However, we should be at T.U.F.F. headquarters. So let's not waste our time just wandering the city streets. Let's go!
At T.U.F.F., everyone is getting the place decorated for the party tonight. Even Dudley, Kitty, Bruce, Katrina, Keswick, and Claire are also busy with decorating, and even the kids (who were allowed to be at T.U.F.F. today) were helping out, all the while talking about what they were going to be for Halloween.
"So what are you going to be for Halloween, George?" Adam asked George.
"I'm going to be IRON MUTT!!" George said.
"I was thinking about going trick-or-treating as that, but I decided to go as a Ninja Turtle." Adam said.
"Which one?" asked Lisa and Tyler.
"I'm going as Leonardo, the leader!" Adam smiled.
"Cool!" said the tw
T.U.F.F. Halloween- Chapter 1(A/N: Here's the first chapter of my "T.U.F.F. Puppy" Halloween fic. I have re-written this story, but I hope it's okay.)
It was the month of October in the city of Petropolis. Fall was now in full swing, and the citizens knew that Halloween was right around the corner. So everyone decided it was time to get ready for Halloween. Okay, let's get on over to T.U.F.F. and see what's going on!
At T.U.F.F., the agents are busy, but at the same time, they're excited that it's October, because the annual T.U.F.F. Halloween party is this month, and it's always so much fun! This is one of the few parties that the agents look forward to.
The date of the party is usually the last Friday in October. This year, Halloween was the last Friday of the month. Well, this was a problem for Dudley, Kitty, Bruce, Katrina, Keswick, and Claire. They wanted to go to the party, but their kids (A/N: The kids are 4-year-olds in this fic.) were looking forward to tric
Bullshit"I'm sorry that you're such a bullshit excuse for a human," I mused as I tried to eat my food. The girl across from me looks at me like she's fuckin' Bambi or some shit. "You're bullshit baby, all nice and full of it. You suck at art, you suck at fucking and you suck at life." Amused I watch her cry and I don't really feel anything because I can't. What happened to me? Why am I like this? "You're disgusting," I tell her, "Go fucking clean yourself up." I roll my eyes and leave my half-empty plate. I swear to God I use to be a good person. Then again I don't believe in that bullshit either.