Amused is a feeling I experience when a naive individual starts speaking. I stay silently amused as they talk out of their ass about things they know nothing of. I guess that ties int o arrogance for me as well. I am the embodiment of that.
lalamercy
Nana came home from cram school to find her mother sitting in the kitchen, clearly not amused. “Have you been making contact with your father?” she accused, without even returning her daughter’s greeting. “Just forget about him! He was lazy an useless!”
She slammed her hands down on the table. “If you try to go back to him, you’ll never see me or your brother again. Remember that! If you betray me, you will pay dearly for it!”
tonykeyesjapan
amused by your lack of smile. becoming not, stray you will. freedom to lone is above yourself. clouds and bust filled my heart. sadden to pass.
joanna
I didn’t understand what it meant. But as I kept feeling and searching and becoming someone I wasn’t too sure I really was, I understood what it meant to be amused and in love, for he is what made me feel these things. He inspired me to be who I am. He is not a god but a friend and a lover and he holds the violin like no other. He is one to gaze upon me like I am not perfect yet see me as an angel. No, I will not confess my love, for that is far too conventional. I will sit and wait for him to understand what it means to be amused and in love too.
Valentyn
amused means happiness….in our whole life everyone wants happiness..but if we want then we must create at first..bcz god helps those who help themselves…we
I knew he was amused by my abuse, so I loosened my fist enough to catch him on the side of the head with my knuckles. He fell, sprawled out, against the pavement, and while I stood there numbly, wondering exactly what I did to take him on, I was horrified by the faint but noticeable trickle of blood leaking from his left ear.
“You killed him,” murmured his girlfriend from the curb, her face going white. “You crazy bitch, you killed him!”
Belinda Roddie
I am amused at the way this website is organized. Amusement at life and its intricacies fills everybody. Amusing it is, is’t it? I don’t know what constitutes an amazing moment. It might be lovely, aweful, awesome and what not. But the phenomenon of life itself is amusing.
David Scoff
I’m amused by the smiling eyes she uses to look at me these days. She probably felt like she’d been missing the man I am now for our whole relationship.
Better than ever.
Beautiful time marches peacefully. I’m secure knowing I’m yours. Forever.
Steve
I am not amused to hear my children are going through rough times. It brings back memories of struggles I faced at their age, and it is something you don’t wish for them.
I always thought you were so funny
what’s in a joke?
to some, a smile
to you, if i look crestfallen
it’s like your daily accomplishment
what’s in a joke, to you?
it’s me.
julia
i am not amused by being constrained by time
it worries me to hear the sound of a ticking clock
not passing
but counting down
the detonator in the kitchen
the bathroom
my wrist
bleeds out seconds
leaving them gasping
Esmy J
Molly Weasley was not amused. In fact, she was furious. How /dare/ her boys run off with that damn car (how the twins managed to drive the thing in the first place was a mystery to her). And now she was supposed to sit here and wait for them while they went gallivanting around the countryside, possibly falling out of the air anywhere from here to ruddy Privet Drive of all places (though she couldn’t blame Harry, poor dear), and honestly if she didn’t spank the whole lot of them as soon as they walked through that door then she may have to reassess her priorities.
I’m not very amused with my inability to write this prompt. Am I tired? Am I lacking in inspiration and creativity? I’ven’t written much, and more than 30 seconds has passed. It seems I have a lot of work to do, but I”m more than willing to put the effort and time and resources in to becoming the best writer i can.
Kyle
“It’s not funny!” Amelia insisted through her teeth. “It’s not funny at all. Stop laughing.”
“I’m not laughing!” Norine promised, holding her hands up in surrender. It was true, technically; no giggles escaped her lips.
“You have that amused look on your face, wipe it off.” Amelia turned around and stalked away, her normally porcelain neck flushed with embarrassment. “Please,” she appended begrudgingly.
It was amusing how little he actually cared for her. Despite what she thought or how she imagined it might be, he knew that he was using her and he did not care at all. And the best part was that she would never know.
She looked over at her, clearly amused if the sparkle in those blue eyes was to be believed, and raised a single perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Oh?” she said, “And what would you suggest, Lady Dorian?”
Anna licked her lips, finding it suddenly hard to focus beneath the forth of that icy hued stare.
I wasn’t amused. I was practically begging for it. Don’t tease me baby, I need to feel you on me, in me, all over me. Your cells are my cells, your breath is my breath till we’re slick with wet and shivering. It could be so good, I promise. I can’t stand these games, darlin’. When we could be moving in sweet unison, good heavens, honey don’t you want to feel like we’re sailing over the edge of oblivion sooner rather than later? I wasn’t born a maschoist, don’t be mean to me now when all I want to do is make sweet love with you. Don’t smirk at me so haughtily. I could be dead tomorrow. And as cold as you’re being, we both know that thought upsets you more than you’re letting on.
I love you. Maybe you say weird things that make me laugh like when you “had to use these spoons” or when you told me “your head shouldn’t be comfortable like that”. It’s little things. Weird things, like how you think the spies joke is funny.
Claire
She stared up at him.
“…what are you doing?” she asked, amused.
“…nothing,” he responded, pulling the kitten’s claws from his shirt and setting it gently down into the basket with the others.
“Really? Because it looked like you were cuddling-”
“Well I wasn’t, okay?!”
Imaginings
I twitched an eyebrow upward and fixated the creature with an amused expression.
“You’re mine,” I purred, arching my back and flexing my formidable weapons.
Claws unsheathed, I pounced.
That mouse was no match for Mr. Tickles.
High School
A place of hatred and joy
of frustration and accomplishments
of silly friends and horrid drama
of joy and laughter and love and pain
I thought I would never go back,
but as I walk these halls with lesson plans in hand,
badge around my neck,
I am amused to see it is not nearly as bad
as I thought it was.
I was not amused. I’m still not. I’m tired. Done. Frustrated. Amused does not come into it. I’m also not a muse. Do not emulate me. Do not try to be more like me. I am suicidal. I am narcissistic in the worst ways. And I am not amused by the fact that you, reading this, will probably scoot along when you’re done.
I watched your breath heave as your back arched, the slope of a mackerel bone as thin as the lead of a pencil or of an idiot’s slack jaw, spiny, the kind of bones I would choke on.
your face leaves me amused. when i see your life through the pictures you post nearly every single day. it used to make me sad… i longed for you. i still do, from time to time. you always make that same face, the way you did when you were down by my knees and looked up at me. i thought i was going to die right there. i thought i had to have you right there. but reality shook me back into my nervous skin and i stood up to leave. i still want you, though.
karisa
To be amused means to laugh and smirk about something you’ve just seen or talked about. It makes you amused!
K
“I’m just amused, that’s all,” she said with a smirk on a her face. I wasn’t positive, but I think she liked me. I didn’t need assurance though.
I stood there, stoicly unamused at his antics. Honestly, I projected, what did he think? That he was *funny*? There was no way in seventeen theoretical dimensions he was ever going to make a theatre audience laugh with this sort of…
“Amused,” she said, although her eyes did not echo the words that passed her lips. Bemused would be a better word. Confused would be even better.
Reg Vensene
I was amused by his ramblings. In all the years I had known him, he always seemed to have a story for any occasion – didn’t matter how complex or how obscure. A character for all seasons, I liked to call him. But more than that, it was that his stories were meant to support and encourage. They were delivered with kindness and good humour. This is why I loved him. This is why he was my friend.
I am amused when I am with Logan. He makes me smile all the time. I just want to walk up and hug him. I am so glad to call him mine. Can we make this relationship thing work?
He was a muse to them, a living embodiment of their ideals and philosophy. When his speakings were in accordance with their beliefs, all was well; when they were not, it was a time of justifications and loopholes, of convenient quote-mining and outright lies. Such is the nature of being enthralled to a muse.
John Doe
“It was a one-time thing. It won’t happen again!” I looked at her unamused. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? Do you think Im so blind that I couldn’t see what you were doing all along?” You sneak in every night when mom and dad are asleep. I can smell it. You’re disgusting.” “You’re not perfect you know? I’m not stupid either. I know all about you.” “What do y..” “Just shut up and leave me alone.” I stood there, frozen in fear. Did she know? If she did, my life would be over.
When I closed my locker, I could feel a presence behind me.
As I slowly turned around, my blond curls dangling in the air….
I saw him.
With his midnight black windswept hair, and those beautiful green eyes that swirled around like the ocean, he was the definition of GODLY.
The laughter was evident in his eyes as his lips curved up into a smirk.
“You know,” he started, “you’re a lot more fun than people give you credit for.”
a wry turn of her lips gave her away within seconds, even as she replaced it with the same placid face.
“oh,” she said, feigning surprise, “is that so?” he grins wider than her, and touches her hand, feels a pulse of lightning jolt up his spine from the contact. shaking his head, he twines his completely in hers. he leans in, his lips kissing hers softly enough to wonder if they had even touched at all.
He was amused when the baby spit up on his dad’s jeans. In a way it was payback… He watched as his son giggled at the mess he made on his grandfathers crotch. Serves him right, he thought.
she was always amused by the awkwardness that he possessed. he always seemed to be able to play it off in a way she felt she never could, but maybe that was the magic of being a man. that awkwardness could be so different between the two of them.
I am amused when babies laugh at my funny faces. When my song on the piano sounds just right. When my apple is crispy and delicious and not mushy and gross. When my voice teacher tells me my voice sounds beautiful.
Quinci
Vee tried to look amused but it was not easy when she felt like a croc ready to snap this mouth in anger and wag its tail. Wait. Vee wondered. Do crocs wag tales?
Amused is a feeling I experience when a naive individual starts speaking. I stay silently amused as they talk out of their ass about things they know nothing of. I guess that ties int o arrogance for me as well. I am the embodiment of that.
Nana came home from cram school to find her mother sitting in the kitchen, clearly not amused. “Have you been making contact with your father?” she accused, without even returning her daughter’s greeting. “Just forget about him! He was lazy an useless!”
She slammed her hands down on the table. “If you try to go back to him, you’ll never see me or your brother again. Remember that! If you betray me, you will pay dearly for it!”
amused by your lack of smile. becoming not, stray you will. freedom to lone is above yourself. clouds and bust filled my heart. sadden to pass.
I didn’t understand what it meant. But as I kept feeling and searching and becoming someone I wasn’t too sure I really was, I understood what it meant to be amused and in love, for he is what made me feel these things. He inspired me to be who I am. He is not a god but a friend and a lover and he holds the violin like no other. He is one to gaze upon me like I am not perfect yet see me as an angel. No, I will not confess my love, for that is far too conventional. I will sit and wait for him to understand what it means to be amused and in love too.
amused means happiness….in our whole life everyone wants happiness..but if we want then we must create at first..bcz god helps those who help themselves…we
I knew he was amused by my abuse, so I loosened my fist enough to catch him on the side of the head with my knuckles. He fell, sprawled out, against the pavement, and while I stood there numbly, wondering exactly what I did to take him on, I was horrified by the faint but noticeable trickle of blood leaking from his left ear.
“You killed him,” murmured his girlfriend from the curb, her face going white. “You crazy bitch, you killed him!”
I am amused at the way this website is organized. Amusement at life and its intricacies fills everybody. Amusing it is, is’t it? I don’t know what constitutes an amazing moment. It might be lovely, aweful, awesome and what not. But the phenomenon of life itself is amusing.
I’m amused by the smiling eyes she uses to look at me these days. She probably felt like she’d been missing the man I am now for our whole relationship.
Better than ever.
Beautiful time marches peacefully. I’m secure knowing I’m yours. Forever.
I am not amused to hear my children are going through rough times. It brings back memories of struggles I faced at their age, and it is something you don’t wish for them.
I always thought you were so funny
what’s in a joke?
to some, a smile
to you, if i look crestfallen
it’s like your daily accomplishment
what’s in a joke, to you?
it’s me.
i am not amused by being constrained by time
it worries me to hear the sound of a ticking clock
not passing
but counting down
the detonator in the kitchen
the bathroom
my wrist
bleeds out seconds
leaving them gasping
Molly Weasley was not amused. In fact, she was furious. How /dare/ her boys run off with that damn car (how the twins managed to drive the thing in the first place was a mystery to her). And now she was supposed to sit here and wait for them while they went gallivanting around the countryside, possibly falling out of the air anywhere from here to ruddy Privet Drive of all places (though she couldn’t blame Harry, poor dear), and honestly if she didn’t spank the whole lot of them as soon as they walked through that door then she may have to reassess her priorities.
I’m not very amused with my inability to write this prompt. Am I tired? Am I lacking in inspiration and creativity? I’ven’t written much, and more than 30 seconds has passed. It seems I have a lot of work to do, but I”m more than willing to put the effort and time and resources in to becoming the best writer i can.
“It’s not funny!” Amelia insisted through her teeth. “It’s not funny at all. Stop laughing.”
“I’m not laughing!” Norine promised, holding her hands up in surrender. It was true, technically; no giggles escaped her lips.
“You have that amused look on your face, wipe it off.” Amelia turned around and stalked away, her normally porcelain neck flushed with embarrassment. “Please,” she appended begrudgingly.
It was amusing how little he actually cared for her. Despite what she thought or how she imagined it might be, he knew that he was using her and he did not care at all. And the best part was that she would never know.
She looked over at her, clearly amused if the sparkle in those blue eyes was to be believed, and raised a single perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Oh?” she said, “And what would you suggest, Lady Dorian?”
Anna licked her lips, finding it suddenly hard to focus beneath the forth of that icy hued stare.
I wasn’t amused. I was practically begging for it. Don’t tease me baby, I need to feel you on me, in me, all over me. Your cells are my cells, your breath is my breath till we’re slick with wet and shivering. It could be so good, I promise. I can’t stand these games, darlin’. When we could be moving in sweet unison, good heavens, honey don’t you want to feel like we’re sailing over the edge of oblivion sooner rather than later? I wasn’t born a maschoist, don’t be mean to me now when all I want to do is make sweet love with you. Don’t smirk at me so haughtily. I could be dead tomorrow. And as cold as you’re being, we both know that thought upsets you more than you’re letting on.
i don’t know
I love you.
I love you. Maybe you say weird things that make me laugh like when you “had to use these spoons” or when you told me “your head shouldn’t be comfortable like that”. It’s little things. Weird things, like how you think the spies joke is funny.
She stared up at him.
“…what are you doing?” she asked, amused.
“…nothing,” he responded, pulling the kitten’s claws from his shirt and setting it gently down into the basket with the others.
“Really? Because it looked like you were cuddling-”
“Well I wasn’t, okay?!”
I twitched an eyebrow upward and fixated the creature with an amused expression.
“You’re mine,” I purred, arching my back and flexing my formidable weapons.
Claws unsheathed, I pounced.
That mouse was no match for Mr. Tickles.
High School
A place of hatred and joy
of frustration and accomplishments
of silly friends and horrid drama
of joy and laughter and love and pain
I thought I would never go back,
but as I walk these halls with lesson plans in hand,
badge around my neck,
I am amused to see it is not nearly as bad
as I thought it was.
I was not amused. I’m still not. I’m tired. Done. Frustrated. Amused does not come into it. I’m also not a muse. Do not emulate me. Do not try to be more like me. I am suicidal. I am narcissistic in the worst ways. And I am not amused by the fact that you, reading this, will probably scoot along when you’re done.
I watched your breath heave as your back arched, the slope of a mackerel bone as thin as the lead of a pencil or of an idiot’s slack jaw, spiny, the kind of bones I would choke on.
your face leaves me amused. when i see your life through the pictures you post nearly every single day. it used to make me sad… i longed for you. i still do, from time to time. you always make that same face, the way you did when you were down by my knees and looked up at me. i thought i was going to die right there. i thought i had to have you right there. but reality shook me back into my nervous skin and i stood up to leave. i still want you, though.
To be amused means to laugh and smirk about something you’ve just seen or talked about. It makes you amused!
“I’m just amused, that’s all,” she said with a smirk on a her face. I wasn’t positive, but I think she liked me. I didn’t need assurance though.
I stood there, stoicly unamused at his antics. Honestly, I projected, what did he think? That he was *funny*? There was no way in seventeen theoretical dimensions he was ever going to make a theatre audience laugh with this sort of…
I giggled.
“Amused,” she said, although her eyes did not echo the words that passed her lips. Bemused would be a better word. Confused would be even better.
I was amused by his ramblings. In all the years I had known him, he always seemed to have a story for any occasion – didn’t matter how complex or how obscure. A character for all seasons, I liked to call him. But more than that, it was that his stories were meant to support and encourage. They were delivered with kindness and good humour. This is why I loved him. This is why he was my friend.
I am amused when I am with Logan. He makes me smile all the time. I just want to walk up and hug him. I am so glad to call him mine. Can we make this relationship thing work?
He was a muse to them, a living embodiment of their ideals and philosophy. When his speakings were in accordance with their beliefs, all was well; when they were not, it was a time of justifications and loopholes, of convenient quote-mining and outright lies. Such is the nature of being enthralled to a muse.
“It was a one-time thing. It won’t happen again!” I looked at her unamused. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? Do you think Im so blind that I couldn’t see what you were doing all along?” You sneak in every night when mom and dad are asleep. I can smell it. You’re disgusting.” “You’re not perfect you know? I’m not stupid either. I know all about you.” “What do y..” “Just shut up and leave me alone.” I stood there, frozen in fear. Did she know? If she did, my life would be over.
When I closed my locker, I could feel a presence behind me.
As I slowly turned around, my blond curls dangling in the air….
I saw him.
With his midnight black windswept hair, and those beautiful green eyes that swirled around like the ocean, he was the definition of GODLY.
The laughter was evident in his eyes as his lips curved up into a smirk.
“You know,” he started, “you’re a lot more fun than people give you credit for.”
a wry turn of her lips gave her away within seconds, even as she replaced it with the same placid face.
“oh,” she said, feigning surprise, “is that so?” he grins wider than her, and touches her hand, feels a pulse of lightning jolt up his spine from the contact. shaking his head, he twines his completely in hers. he leans in, his lips kissing hers softly enough to wonder if they had even touched at all.
He was amused when the baby spit up on his dad’s jeans. In a way it was payback… He watched as his son giggled at the mess he made on his grandfathers crotch. Serves him right, he thought.
she was always amused by the awkwardness that he possessed. he always seemed to be able to play it off in a way she felt she never could, but maybe that was the magic of being a man. that awkwardness could be so different between the two of them.
I am amused when babies laugh at my funny faces. When my song on the piano sounds just right. When my apple is crispy and delicious and not mushy and gross. When my voice teacher tells me my voice sounds beautiful.
Vee tried to look amused but it was not easy when she felt like a croc ready to snap this mouth in anger and wag its tail. Wait. Vee wondered. Do crocs wag tales?