histórias de Plain

The story of Medusa has always been used as a tale of horror, but what if it wasn't that at all? Medusa was raped for her beauty and shamed for it- turned into a horrible "monster." But what if being turned into an ugly monster was not a curse but a blessing? 15-year-old Mirabella is to be married off to an older stranger, but when she flees the wedding, her fiance hunts her down and takes her for her beauty...in a witch's courtyard. The witch turns the beautiful Mira into a horribly ugly monster, and Mira flees her old life to go into hiding. She is alone, until a former friend discovers her. But will Mira be able to bear anyone seeing her in all her horror?

I know they get paid to clean up but being a caretaker or cleaner isn't the most glamorous of jobs and they deserve respect and thanks for the hard 'unskilled' work they do. I remember being at school and kids leaving a mess on purpose claiming they didn't have a responsibility to clean it up 'cos the cleaners will do it, they get paid to', totally taking them for granted. I also have a neighbour who's lovely and works hard as a cleaner. It was little things like that that inspired this one.

This is a story on Feral and others called The Ones.

𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝓂𝓎 𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒 뭐든 할 수 있어 𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇, 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 환희 속의 하이파이브 𝒮𝑜, 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 달려가고 있어 오직 하나 유성처럼 빛나며 𝑀𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎 나를 움직이는 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒴𝑒𝒶𝒽, 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔'𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝓊𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓌

I must say, my world is full of grey. No happiness , no sadness, no violence, just grey. Very disappointed, but mainly, I feel like I could cry right about now after seeing this... Maybe someday... I can at least find some friends that really care for me a lot, maybe by A LOT... Home, school, anywhere, is not safe for me... (Authors note: This story might make no sense at all so bare with me, I tried ok?!) (All Pokémon in this story are not owned by me, they are owned by Nintendo and Game Freak.)

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Grace, she is a girl with short definitions. Her life does not revolve around friends, boys, or relationships of any sort. She is very...plain, not enthusiastic enough, doesn't care if other's feelings are hurt. She cares for nothing but her books and school work. There was a time she was over caring, but you see those days have passed, nothing is the same anymore, and she doesn't believe anyone will understand, or even care. WARNING: There is probably many misspelled words and I'll say some of these scenes are fake, these are real people. I based the characters on people in my life. This story is a story mostly about my life, observations, struggles and feelins, please do not judge.

Very short story, don't think much of it.

Welcome to their colorful world made of plain and fancy ups and down.

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He started to walk closer and closer and closer until we were face to face. He set his both arms on the shelf trapping me inside, and then he lowered his face leveling mine. He never cut eye contact with me in the process. His face was so close to mine I could almost smell his minty breath. I gulped again. "You look nervous. Do I make you nervous?" Duke Loyola asked me while smirking. He sure was enjoying this. "W-what do you want?!" I asked him a little louder. My fear kept on escalating as well as my voice. "If you're going to hit me, just do it and make it fast!" "Shhhhhh. The librarian might hear you." he said softly on my left ear. I felt his warm breath caressed my skin. I fought the urge not to panic at this moment. "What made you think that I would hit you? I don't hit girls, just their boyfriends." He grinned and then looked at my lips then at my neck and then back at my eyes. "What's your name?" He was so random. "Let me out." I pushed him on the chest as hard as I could but he wasn't even shaken. He grabbed both of my hands and pinned it at both sides of my head. "I won't until you give me your name." He said while looking at my lips. "Why does my name matters to you? What do you want from me?" I looked at him straight to the eyes. I was now shooting daggers at him. "What do I want from you? Well..... Now......." Duke slowly lifted his right hand to carress my cheek and ran his fingers to my throat. He gently slid his palm to my nape and pulled my face more closer to his. Is he going to do what I think he's going to do? I-is he going to k-kiss me? I stutter even I speak inside my head.

Scenarios to imagine while daydreaming

A series of stories in a sentence