Peter Panxx - o1 - xxxxPeter Pan8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
He's dirty. Filthy clothes, filthy habits, filthy manners. I can see the grime beneath his fingernails when he walks, when he speaks; it's all I see. Dirt beneath his fingernails. I wonder who he really is.
There is nothing nice about him. Nothing to like about him. His voice is rough, his hair is matted. He never takes care of himself because no one tells him he's worth it. Everyone is worth it. But no one tells him. No one.
xx - o2 - xxxx
A ribbon is braided into his hair. Blue, like his eyes, like mine. I don't ask about it, I won't. Still no one tells him he is better than he thinks. Better than they think. Better than I think.
There's still dirt beneath his fingernails.
xx - o3 - xxxx
I realize he likes trees. This will continue to prove problematic for some time.
xx - o4 - xxxx
He seems to be clever. Completely uneducated, but intelligent. I can't reason with him, I can't philosophize with him, but I can feel for him. I can reach him. I read the pain in his eyes be
Otherworld: The End?Kriss gathered with the rest of the heroes when it was decided for all them to return home. She heard the reason why Vigil was against them assisting the rebels of this dimension in the first place.Otherworld: The End?1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Upon their return, Kriss did not stick around with the others. Aside from getting in touch with the Order, she wanted to mediate on the decision that was obviously not a unanimous one despite no protest. If Vigil was right about the balance between the two dimensions, would the rebellion Kriss and the others assisted face severe retaliation from the criminal syndicate that could result in their annihilation? Do they sacrifice thousands of lives to save billions?
Kriss was no stranger to moral dilemmas. Given all that had came about during their time in the alternate world, one could question if it was all in vain. Finding the self-confidence to overcome doubt in yourself as Spark Maiden did, making a better life for another like Chill had, or, in the case of Captain Cape's case, makin
To My Dearest Peter PanDear Peter,To My Dearest Peter Pan11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
take me away.
take me so very far away,
to your never neverland,
so that i will never ever have to grow up.
My Dearest Peter Pan,
let me kiss the stars with you.
Let me kiss your rosy lips,
and let the stars witness my devotion
to the never-ending love
of my childhood.
My Dearest Peter,
i'm still waiting for you
to come through my window,
just as you did when i was a young babe.
Dear Mr. Pan,
i've waited and waited,
and i watch my window every night
just in hopes
that i'll see your mischevious shadow
lurking in on me,
as he did in those long ago days.
To My Dearest Mr. Peter Pan,
I don't think you're coming.
I've started to give up all hope
of ever seeing you again.
Never again will I be able to
caress your hand or kiss your soft lips.
I suppose this is where I say,
growing up can't be all bad.
I wish i could,
but i can't without lying to you.
This is addressed to a Mr. Peter Pan,
in hopes that someday,
he will come and sweep me off my feet.
I suppose that will only
RealityReality3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"You know Regina; I was quite confused at first when you threatened me at the station, but after deliberation I know what you've done. And let me be the first to tell you it wasn't a very good idea."
Emma watched next to Henry as Mr Gold stood confidently in the middle of Town Hall, threatening Regina in front of everyone, but she didn't look very threatened. On the contrary the mayor looked just as cocky as he did and she extended him a naughty smile from behind her podium.
"I think you should have been more careful about who you let into your company. So often I've thought that love is a weakness and so often I am proved right and this right here is the perfect proof." She said, gesturing at him and swaggering away from her podium on the stage.
"You've proved nothing witch." He spoke in a voice Emma hardly recognised; cold, cruel and calculating, not the gentle and sadistic sound she was used to.
"Oh but I have. Love is a weak spot so many have. Who'd have thought that of all pe
Worth Getting Hooked Ch1Worth Getting Hooked Ch15 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or it's characters
This is inspired by KP-chan's work, Through My Eyes, so go read that too!
Kisses For A Disney Villain
What was supposed to be a simple sleepover, play a few games, watch a movie, and go to bed by no later than 12am, escalated to so much more. We had eaten ice-cream, varies candies, and other sweets giving us a major sugar high with even more junk food sitting on the table waiting for us, and it was now 11:30. The morning was going to be dreadful as we all had to work, but all five of us rarely got to be together so we went all out. The Disney trivia game we had started turned out to be a lot harder than we thought and was changed to a sort of Disney truth or dare while watching the movie, which turned out to be much more fun anyway. First was The Little Mermaid, which we just finished, and now was Peter Pan.
"Whose favorite villain is Hook?" Said one of my overly excited friends. The mentioned villain was on the scr
Cazar ideasCazar ideas4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
No hay nada más frustrante que un artist block y para mí no hay nada más frustrante que leer eso de alguien más.
Sé que deben haber otros tuts con cómo salir de un artist block, así que simplemente me basaré en cómo pueden cazar la inspiración, estén bloqueados o no, pero primero deben responder a la pregunta:
¿Me satisface lo que hago?
Si están bloqueados es porque necesitan simplemente un cambio de aires, uno se aburre hasta de lo que más le gusta hacer. Ahora, si están bloqueados tipo "nada me sale" o "no puedo hacer nada" y el cambio de aires no es una idea a aceptar, lo tomaría como que son esclavos de lo que hacen y por eso tanto su imaginación como su cuerpo (el "plasmador" de obras) se rebelan. Pongan atención a sus estados y no vayan en su contra, eso empeora el caso. Si ya no pueden dibujar, escriban, si no escriben, lean, vean películas, hagan deporte, jueguen videojue
The Devil for TeaEveryone knows that when you go to Storybrooke, the place for great coffee is Granny's Diner. Also, the apple pie there is heavenly, but whenever the menu says 'made using apples donated generously from Mayor Regina', don't order it! Believe me; I learned that lesson through a bad case of indigestion.The Devil for Tea3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
But what if you want a good cup of tea and it's the middle of the afternoon, i.e. when Granny's is closed? You come to my place of course. Or at least Mr. Gold does every once in a while. He'll never say this to anyone, but he actually likes to drop by my house for more than just the monthly rent, something I picked up on when I gave him shelter from that horrible storm a couple weeks back. He told me Mary Margaret had gone out to the animal shelter about a dove she had found in the woods, but he hadn't heard much else. I told him I wouldn't know what happened to her, but what from what little I knew about the ni
Older Peter Pan X Older Reader: Part 1It was late and after a long day you crawled into your bed. Your head was already swimming with the thoughts of all that you had to do tomorrow. Ever since you turned eighteen it seemed your once peaceful world had been turned upside-down and filled with nothing but one headache after another. You had been so busy lately with tiresome tasks and newfound responsibilities. Sometimes it felt like you were drowning in a sea of drama and stress. You always tried your best to keep your head above water and keep soldiering on, but it always seemed as if there was always something new only too eager to try and drag you down. Exhausted both mentally and physically you turned your head to glance at your alarm clock. The time was exactly at 11:11pm. Remembering the superstition that this was the time to make wishes on you indulged in a little folly and closed your eyes. You thought for a second on what to wish for love money world peace? No, none of those things seemed appealing atOlder Peter Pan X Older Reader: Part 13 years ago in Romance More Like This
Severus and Lily: part1Severus and Lily...Always. PART 1Severus and Lily: part18 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Please note: if you havent read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and dont want any spoilers, DONT READ ANY FURTHER! Ok great, now that thats out of the way, here is my attempt at a Lily/Severus Fan-Fic the beginning part isnt great, but just bear with it, I needed to introduce a setting/scene and all it gets better as you go.. (p.s. Severus Snape rox my sox !!!!
Severus sat alone in the grounds near the lake. He was leaning against a tree, surrounded by mounds of library books, and appears at first glance to be writing something, but as Lily approaches she realizes that his hand is still on the parchment and is staring absently out over the water.
Hey, Sev. Severus broke out of his daydream and smiled up at Lily.
Hey, Lily. She sat down and glanced at the pile of now abandoned parchment. Studying hard? she asked.
I should be, I havent been paying
MorningOlympus has fallen and itMorning4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Fragments of sky on
fractured moors: granite hipbones
surface and Mars is nestled
in a ribcage, basking
Beneath an oak, peeling
dryads from it, song notes
that mingle in a veil
of pathways and divinity.
Each tree stands as a last post.
Eros hangs from a Psyche knot.
Emeralds fall through my fingers and
the only solid thing is the horizon.
Clouds drift among us like futures.
Aster and Dante in the WoodsAster and Dante in the Woods7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Asters stomach was growling. For that matter, Dantes was too, but he tried to hide that fact with well-timed coughs and grunts, while the princess made no such efforts. Neither of them said anything about being hungry, though. It probably would have been better if somebody had, because two hungry and tired people who are pretending not to be hungry and tired can only come to one unavoidable end they must certainly start quarreling.
This is exactly what happened when Dante casually said something about hoping the princess was enjoying her ride, and she asked if he supposed that all this was her fault and with a distinct lack of his former careful formality, which had started to wear very thin over the course of the afternoon, he said that well, after all, it hadnt been his idea to go out riding. This was all the princess needed and with a rush of very mean gladness, they fell to quarreling with each other heated
The Phantom of the Opera TranslatedSubliminal messages abound in The Phantom of the Opera. Some are so entwined in such carefully constructed, phallic metaphors, that it may be difficult to sift through the passionate web of angst and decipher the lyrics' true meanings. So here, for your clarity, I have provided a translation of some of the musical's most elaborate lyrics. The original lyrics will be italicized, while the translations will not. It is my desire that your next viewing of Phantom should be an enlightened one, and my sincerest hope that these translations will clear up any confusion.The Phantom of the Opera Translated4 years ago in Humor More Like This
"The Phantom of the Opera"
In sleep he sang to me
(I thought this guy was, like, fake )
In dreams he came
( because caped, masked crusaders supposedly only exist in dreams but, hey, what do you know? There he is right there. Huh.)
That voice which calls to me and speaks my name
(I am clearly too gullible to realize that the only reason this man knows my name is because he is a glorified sta
DementiaThe old man sits with stooped back.Dementia6 years ago in Other More Like This
The room is cold, just like his hands.
Thoughts have wandered like small children.
He wonders if he will see home again.
Thoughts have wandered home again,
with stooped backs and cold hands.
The room sits with the old man.
Like small children, he wonders if he will see cold.
Back stooped with thoughts, he wanders.
Like a child the small room sits, wondering.
Home again is cold.
The old man will see with his hands.
Thoughts have wandered with stooped backs.
The cold hands sit with the old man.
He wonders if he will see like small children.
The room is home again.
Jarida AU: Ski DippingJarida AU: Ski Dipping (OneShot)Jarida AU: Ski Dipping2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Summary: The gang decides to go to a ski resort for a weekend, and with Jack and Merida there, things could never go as planned.
Merida struggled to step through the snow with her ski equipment on, complaining the whole time of how restricted she felt while wearing them. Everyone was already set off in pairs, waiting patiently for their lift to arrive. Obviously it had to be couples amongst their group of friends, only leaving her with one other person who wasn’t taken. She turned to the person in question, his grin indicating the fun he was about to have. This trip was proving to be a pain; it was bad enough that she didn’t even know how to ski; or ice skate; or even snowboard—everything about this weekend was against her element. Not for Jack though, he was a born natural for this stuff, and it annoyed her to no end.
They took a step forward after Hiccup and Astrid got on their lift, now waiting for Eep and Guy t
Here's to those who are hurting You're not poison ivy and you're not crushed mimosa, you're not a history of screwed ups and let downs, you're not choked hazard with nothing else to give. You're not his or hers or theirs to be tugged and pulled around by their selfish and egocentric whims and your future is certainly not on their leash. You don't combust into flames and extinguish into ashes on the click of their fingers, so breathe and relax. You don't owe anyone anything and you certainly are not their definition of damaged cassette tapes.Here's to those who are hurting1 month ago in Philosophical More Like This
Tell anyone who had ever told you that you're not gritted teeth and clenched fist to screw off because you had been inhaling vile smoke and your lungs are turning black and your kidneys are rebelling into cement and stones and you are in the middle of pitfalls and booby traps and all you have are wrong wrong wrong advices that made you cry until your bones f
RotG - Shadows Nipping At Your Nose - 1A sickening crack pierced the silence of a winter day as the ice below a little girl started to break. She was barely keeping her footing as the ice shifted, but her gazed was locked on her brother's eyes. The two had gone ice-skating and it had been fun at first but then everything changed.RotG - Shadows Nipping At Your Nose - 12 years ago in Drama More Like This
The boy, Jackson Overland, had taken off his skates so he could keep his footing better. He looked at his sister, his mind racing to think of a way to get her back to solid ground. He was afraid but he pushed that feeling aside, knowing that it wouldn't help him rescue her. Besides, he didn't want to let her get scared either so he forced a little smile onto his face. "It's ok, it's ok," he said, holding his hands out to let her know everything was going to be alright.
"Jack," said his sister, Emma, "I'm scared." She looked down to the ice below her as even more cracks spider-webbed across it and it was easy to tell that she was barely holding back tears.
"I know, I know," Jack said, "but you're go
To See Him One Last Time - A Jack Frost one shotNote: This is not part of the series, "A Bitter Frost"To See Him One Last Time - A Jack Frost one shot2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Mother, listen to my heart..." Jack sang softly as he walked along the rooftops of Burgess, Massachusetts on a cold and quiet winter night. "Mother, listen to my heart - just as one beat ends, another starts..." He couldn't remember where he'd heard the song but it seemed to float through his head whenever he let his mind wander. Seeing the town from above, Jack imagined how it used to be, 300 years ago: fewer and smaller houses, a fire burning in the square, children running around before their parents called them in for the night... His memory of it was still fuzzy but bits and pieces would randomly come back to him.
Where ever he stepped, frost bloomed around his feet. Anyone else would've slipped and taken a nasty fall down to the ground below, but of course this was nothing new for Jack and his footing was as sure as ever. He glanced up at the Moon, but the Moon hadn't said anything to him in a long while
My FriendI remember how we met. We were six, and we sat next to each other at a bible study group. I liked to draw, and you liked to talk. We talked a lot!My Friend5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I thought we would be good friends, but I didn't know just how long. Six turned to 7. I remember the time I tried to do a cartwheel at bible study and fell. I laughed so hard I wet my pants. This was not unusual. You and I would laugh so much that it was almost expected. Every time I'd sleepover at your house, I remember packing two (or three) pairs of underwear, just in case.
I recall that time we pulled my younger brother into playing "pirates" with us. He wore an orange bandana and carried a sword. Our ship was the plastic slide, and we were his ship-mates/captives. We also loved hide-and-seek. We also traded beanie-babies. For your birthday, I remember buying you a robo-dog and you bought me a robo-cat in return!
You would crack up when I told a silly joke, and I would roar with laughter when you would make a funny face. When I was 8, I
Versions“Jesus, how long does it take to put on a tux?”Versions1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
His voice came to me muffled by the heavy curtain in front of the changing room. “I — appreciate — it,” he said as he struggled with the garment, “but — my name’s — Ethan.”
I laughed, my bangs swinging to the side of my face. Curling my legs up on the leather armchair, my eyes wandered over the dark, musty tailor shop. “That joke has been way overdone. Like, so overdone, it’s burnt to a crisp.”
“Why’d you laugh at it, then?” I could hear him grinning through the curtain. His feet were thumping on the hardwood floor, and I could imagine him almost falling over as he slipped in his socks. I giggled into my hand.
All was quiet for a minute, the only sounds coming from the cash register at the other end of the store. Drawing my eyebrows together, I asked, “Everything okay? You didn’t have a heart attack or something?”
Detective Guardians: chapter 1 There was a teenager, in a dark blue hoodie with white hair, Jack Frost was his name. It had been a couple of months since he had become a guardian and fought Pitch. He was out exploring the world and bringing winter with him. Now he was in Transylvania, as he flew around he spotted something in the night. It was a building; it looked like a castle or a mansion, he couldn't tell which. He landed right in front of a wooden sign, it read Hotel Transylvania. Overwhelmed with curiosity Jack walked across the bridge that connected the hotel to the surrounding land and through the revolving doors. There were creatures everywhere and probably every kind too. Fish-men, blobs of goo, a giant furry guy that was at least two stories tall with ginormous feet, etc.. There was one guy towards the back of the hall that looked like a normal human except for the Victorian outfit. He had black hair that was slicked back, and pale skin like Jack's, his light blue eyDetective Guardians: chapter 12 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Forget-Me-NotForget-Me-Not4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The little boy sighed as he trudged down the cobblestone street, lamenting to himself. Why couldn't he be like a normal kid? Have fun and play around and goof off? Instead, he was forced to spend all of his time indoors, doing nothing. Taking medicine, staring out of the window longingly at the other children, wishing he could be one of them.
"Why can't I be normal?" he asked himself. Only the blustery wind answered him. He shuddered. He knew he should be getting home. It wouldn't help him if he got sick again. His mother might never let him go for another walk for the rest of eternity.
Richard Starkey turned his head. "Huh?"
Another, all-too-familiar boy charged into him, a goofy grin on his face. "Your mum let you outside?"
"Yes," Richard replied tersely. "So?"
"So we should celebrate! After all, you might never see the light of day again," the other boy snickered.
Richard narrowed his eyes. "Shut yer gob, John."
John clucked in disapproval, "Now, that's
bathtime for a cheesecake virgin suicideI am dreading the group job interview, because I know that they will want to hear my name and one. two. five interesting facts about me. There will be broken Rich Tea biscuits handed out and weak orange squash with unexplainable tiny bubbles in it. There will be rectangular sticky name tags curling at the edges and hemmed with cardigan fluff. There will be nervous graduates exchanging small tight smiles, like sips. And I will stand up and I will tell them these things about myself;bathtime for a cheesecake virgin suicide10 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
1. This year I stopped eating fries, so that I could be the girl who doesn’t eat fries instead of the girl who still can’t get over her ex-boyfriend.
2. Instead of fries I eat Marmite. Out of the jar with a spoon, as I sit on the stone kitchen worktop bruising my tailbone and swinging my heels with glazed eyes. I love the thick dark colour and how the salt burns.
3. As a woman I am expected to scoop the crying world up into the crevice of my arm and prop it on my hip. I am supposed t
John 3:16God loved -John 3:164 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but not only me.
God gave -
but not just for me.
God saves -
but not me alone.
for the world.
Not for the polished and the proper,
or those who know His Word by heart,
nor for the righteous and the perfect,
the big and mighty or the smart -
For He came poor and weak and tiny,
for weak and tiny ones like us,
and calls to Him the hurt and sinful,
to give them freedom that will last.
So let us go and spread the message
and share His love with all we meet,
with every tribe and tongue and nation,
that everybody might be freed.
all the world.
ZapatosHe decidido tirar mis viejosZapatos2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
zapatos. Durante años no soportaba
su textura roída con agujeros en la suela.
Comprar nuevos zapatos...
Existen muchos modelos para elegir — ellos
me dicen a menudo —. Mas siento
que si compro unos nuevos se volverán
viejos y gastados.
Los zapatos no valen la pena, son
una mentira de piel o material
sintético que te ayudan a caminar
en medio de una falsedad de concreto.
Quiero quemar mis zapatos,
quiero tirarlos a la basura,
esto no puede terminar de esta
Todos saben cómo va a acabar:
Cuelgo mis zapatos a los cables,
ellos alcanzarán el cielo.
Yo cuelgo mi cuerpo a la viga del
techo, no aspiraré a alcanzarlo.