Lazy ass procrastinator and socially awkward failer at life.|
Small, cute, but with a huge appetite.
And a fangirl.
The Story Without A Name - Chapter 2Since the day I first met Koil, I finally found some happiness in my life. No longer was I left to play alone, because now I could play with him. He would still often wear his suit, though sometimes he wore jeans and a t-shirt instead. I played with him things I haven't been able to play in a long, long time. Other times he read or told me stories and he even taught me how to draw a bit. And we talked a lot.The Story Without A Name - Chapter 2 by saskikana
The bad thing of having a friend that no one could hear or see was that people often thought I was strange. Sometimes one of the maids would come in my room to clean it up while I was playing with Koil, but instead of seeing me play with him, she saw me sitting alone, talking to nothing in particular. She looked at me as if I just grew a new pair of arms and would cautiously continue cleaning. When she was finished, she would quickly leave my room and leave me alone (with Koil).
After that had happened a couple of times, every single one of the household would look at me pec
The Story Without A NameI remember running, running around in the field: no worries, no needs, no problems. I was but a small girl, about four years old and I still saw the world through pink shades: my mom loved me; my dad cared about me, though he was a very busy man, and I was happy to be with them. As I ran enjoying the world, I fell, tumbled over, and scratched my knee. "Emily! You are such a clumsy girl! Look at your clothes, they're a mess now! Get back here immediately!" My mom shouted and was mad at me for the very first time. I thought I was indeed a clumsy girl for making my brand new clothes dirty and so I left to my room and sat there, alone and away from the world.The Story Without A Name by saskikana
As time passed on, I also started to notice that my mom was very often mad at me, even because of the silliest things like accidentally spilling some water over my clothes or even drawing just outside the lines. "If you continue going on like that, you'll never become a lady. You are an utter disgrace!" And more of that
Hypothetically- WaycestHypothetically- Waycest by SecretSlashNinja
Michael Way sat, thinking of hotel rooms and trains and butterfly rings. Nothing more, nothing less. Alright, maybe he thought of a little something more. Let's say, hypothetically, that each of those things meant something more than just hotel rooms and trains and butterfly rings. Hypothetically, of course.
Let's say, hypothetically, that when he was a child, he was very close to his brother. Suppose that when Michael was seven and his older brother was eleven, they were walking home from school one day in the late spring. Michael would take his brother's hand, would squeeze it fondly, would smile up at his brother's pale, perfect face. And Gerard, his brother, would squeeze back, would smile back, and tug him along the sidewalk. They would walk along in contented silence, until Gerard would pull Michael to a stop. The younger boy would question his brother, but Gerard would just smile mysteriously and bend to pick something off the ground.
Hypothetically, Gerard would open his palm t
Brotherly Love - When The Sun Goes DownMikey sighed as he sat down.Brotherly Love - When The Sun Goes Down by Idunno09
He groaned a little at some pain of his back, before he sighed again once his ass had finally met the chair. He moved some of his snow white hair away of his forehead, before he scratched lightly one of his cheeks that, even though wasn't as soft as he used to have it before, he still had well conserved. Mikey wasn't as young as before, and he knew it.
He had wrinkles and his eyes didn't work as well as they did before, when he was supposed to have surgery to certainly have a better vision. His jokes weren't as funny to young people as they used to be in his times, and he didn't really could do much because his bones were fragile and he had gotten weaker by age. Sometimes, he couldn't carry anymore his grandchild.
He was old. He was, indeed, 80 years old already. But he felt good. He felt healthy. The one who didn't was the old man on the bed, the man who saw Mikey almost every day of his life since he, literally, was born. Gerard. His hair was more like gr