BatB-Stop hating Prince AdamBatB-Stop hating Prince Adam5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Why you hate Prince Adam so much, while you always love Beast so much?
You always complain that Adan should change back into Beast becuase according to you "Prince Adam is Ugli!!1!!" "He looks bETTER as a BeAsT!"!!" "The Beast is more cute and flufly"!"!"!, "he looks like Raoul, whi I despise both I depise very mUCH!!":!"!, or becuase the Beast looks "sexier", "hot", "better looking" than his "boring" human form (or for you that "thing")
Hello! Did you missed the whole damn point of the movie?!?!
The narrator said
..."Not to be deceived by appearences, for beauty is found within."
I don't hate the Beast, but can you please accept his human form? Besides Beast/Adam and his servants have been enchanted for too long...don't you think is very cruel (or very heartless) to force them to stay enchanted forever just becuase "according" to you their human forms are "ugly, "boring" "uninteresting" while their enchanted form
A Dust of SnowSnow was the great purification. All of the dark places of the land dotted with coated trees were blanketed by mother snows cold hand. The earth was softer in winter, in white. It was sleeping soundly beneath the coverlets where only wolves, rabbits and deer went tuttering by leaving their trails and magic.A Dust of Snow2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The girl’s cheeks had long turned chill-burnt red, polished and bright as two crisp autumn apples. They burned in the pale of her skin in the moonlight. In some other time, her lips as red as hearts and her hair as dark as raven’s wings might have stirred a poem. But the eerie mingling of fear and desire glass coating her brown eyes made her seem a mad, mad straw creature than a beauty.
The snow was deep and it bit to the knee, sometimes keeping her stuck in place. Frostbite tingled, a small sting at first and now a sharp bite in her feet; fingers. Her mittens had been swiped by a lashing pine, a boot kept by unforgiving drift. Her dress cold and wet.
ExpirationWith you I always feel like I’mExpiration1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to break in the wrong size of shoes.
Sometimes I sit and stew
over how you’re seventeen and
you think I’m a princess
the trapped-in-a-tower kind
and how you wear suits and talk about politics
and think you know the world.
My throat interrupts with an affronted gurgling sound
sometimes when I think about you,
you deal out advice where it just isn’t called for
you quote science-fiction to justify war
and you’re seventeen years old and you think I’m a princess
and you just have no blooming idea.
Darling, one of these days I will tell you my mind
But until then we’ll never fit
I’m afraid –
that even after that day
you’ll still be trimmed hedges and
a quoi ca sert l'amourShe remembered that night better than he did. The way he was dressed, how he talked, what he ate, where he was stayingthe ring on his finger, fresh from January, and it shined under the dim light, her warning sign to stay away; a warning sign she took seriously and knew well. She kept the thought vigilant in her mind with every fidgeted rub to her own naked ringfinger under the table, the ghost of the engagement then and the marriage that never was. Her boyfriend beside her should've been reason enough to resist the obvious magnetism and subsequent temptation, but she found herself captivated by this man of her French homeland, who listened to every word she said with a rapt attention her boyfriend would never match. He kept conversation going. He asked questions and listened to her babbling answers. He made her feel special in a way that the Hollywood gift baskets and showering of flashing lights and Al Pacino and Entertainment Tonight couldn't replicate. He was real. He made hea quoi ca sert l'amour3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Paper-Thin Promisesthe first time I caught sight of yourPaper-Thin Promises2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
glistening, marble eyes,
I decided you disgust me.
I hate you the way I hate perfection:
merciless, like the snap of mantis jaws.
every fact of you is pretentious,
held high like you raise a middle finger.
You, the artist, always sculpting things,
tried to squeeze my malleable heart like white clay
and stash it in your pocket to rattle with stones.
paint me an unflinching self portrait, my dear:
this skyscraper of a boy shaking with anticipation
to build and destroy, build and destroy.
you sink in tooth and talon at first mention of beauty,
love-biting Aphrodite as though you were equals.
you're a statue, a prison,
a tasteless reproduction of a child's Heaven
but you are no museum.
you may hang yourself in gilded frames,
forcing masses to silence with obscurity,
but that does not make you a hallowed hall.
no, I fear you're no Metropolitan.
you look at me, daring to think you understand.
your words trickle from my lips like a waterfall
as you tell m
Let Your Daughter Be a PirateLet your daughter be a pirateLet Your Daughter Be a Pirate1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
if she asks for a wooden sword
help her build her ship from empty boxes
and sail the vast backyard
because a box doesn’t only
have to store dead dreams
and she is so much more
than just a vessel.
Let your daughter be Robin Hood,
if she wants to be an anarchist,
a hero, a rebel, a rogue,
give her bows, and arrows,
let her fight for the plight of poorer folk
because Robin isn’t just a boy’s name.
Let your daughter be a princess
locked in a tower so high
let her be her own prince,
don’t tell her to wait for a hundred years,
let her swing from her own hair
and grasp her own freedom.
Let your daughter be whatever she wants
especially when she’s young
and you’ll be enamoured by
the woman she becomes.
Strawberries in the WinterMy momma once said that it was impossible-Strawberries in the Winter2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That trying to grow strawberries
In a room that murdered light
Was like telling a girl to live without love
Or demanding a fish to breathe midair.
Still, a week later
A pot of dirt found its home
On a desk in that room,
Daring to flirt with the color green.
Everyday a lamp was hit,
Life support was turned on,
And Thoreau was born to fight.
I told myself,
No more would the fat guy need surgery
Just to blend into an ocean of hypocrites
That would tide in and out of his “in security”.
No more would the nerd girl
Need tights that cut her once living legs
Because the boy she’s been watching
Only likes ladies that cost him a dollar,
Possibly fifty cents more
For something he can tell his friends.
No more would the emo boy
Take out wet stained knives
Because people don’t understand that once
A loved one has their face smashed
-Broken against a pavement-
It’s a little bit harder to feel your heart
And all you want is a si
Fiolee ~ A Stolen Heart : Chapter 1Fiolee ~ A Stolen Heart : Chapter 12 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Man it's the stuff of legends!", Micheal stated enthusiastically. "What's the stuff?" I inquired as we floated over to a shady tree, pulling our hoods off. Micheal's been my bro since before the Mushroom War. We were just out on one of our daily casual strolls, chatting, when he had suddenly brightened up bringing us to this point. "I just recalled a story my grandma would tell me every night before bed when I was a wee lad. Would you like to hear it?" I chuckled a little bit at his "wee lad" statement he had put in there along with an awful Scottish accent.
Once we'd reached the tree he took a seat on a high fat branch that had been carved flat, as though someone had made it a seat purposefully, motioning for me to sit beside him. It was surrounded by leafy branches, blocking out the suns deadly rays completely while still having a breathtaking
KING MEOver the course of time you have carefully adjusted the shape of the checker piece by scraping it on the concrete floor methodically, quietly, so as to not garner attention.KING ME2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The evening meal arrives in your cell, with a message written on the salt packet: KING ME.
A jolt of adrenaline (KING ME) but you must calm your breathing and eat your dinner as normal. KING ME. You empty the salt packet and chew the paper.
KING ME. It's past midnight (you assume; no clocks) when you jam the slightly modified checker disc into the lens of the video camera. It fits as if made for it.
The wait is agony, but eventually your handler comes to investigate the dead video feed. Between the time he peeps in through the slot to the time his key scrapes in the lock you bolt from your fake-sleeping position and poke the checker piece with a finger. It pops out of the camera into your hand. KING ME.
When the door swings open you are ready for him. Routine has caused everyone to become slack; he does not expect
Zutara - Scars Chapter 2Zutara - Scars Chapter 2Zutara - Scars Chapter 25 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
That night around the fire I handed out food to the others with Momo on my shoulder. Everyone was talking quietly to their neighbor when Zuko stepped into the room. Everyone looked at him except Toph who eyes stayed forward.
"Look everybody, I got some really bad news," he said and I raised an eyebrow. "I lost my stuff."
"Don't look at me," Toph raised her hands in innocence then crossed them across her chest. "I didn't touch your stuff."
"I'm talking about my firebending, its gone."
I couldn't help but laugh in his vulnerable state. "I'm sorry, I'm just laughing at the irony, You know how it would have been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago." I didn't try to make my words sound kind, in fact I hoped he took offence to it.
But he didn't really get angry, "It's not lost. It's just weaker for some reason."
"Maybe you're not as good as you think you are," once again my words were harsh.
There was silence and I tried not to grin as
you can't have the world.i never meantyou can't have the world.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to make you
i only wanted
you not to
TonightBring me to lifeTonight1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
With your touch.
Love me now,
Forget me later.
Set me on fire
With your lips,
Into my soul.
At least for tonight,
Let me feel again.
how to become a writerhave parents that separatehow to become a writer2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when you’re in high school;
a father filled with unused anger
and a mother too busy to care.
pretend it doesn’t hurt.
let your friends treat you
everything is your fault.
listen to their problems with a fake smile
all the while crying out because
everything hurts and no one can see.
press a knife to your skin,
but be too cowardly to
draw your own blood.
fall in love with people
who could never notice you,
just. not. good.
chew on the multicolored
strands of your hair.
(you can’t stop running
from who you really are.)
carry around a notebook
and scrawl eve
nineariel stole your breath more than i ever did -nine2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when my heart was thudding between your lungs,
because that was the only safe place, or so i was told
i can't remember when my heart caught the fever
for you had guarded it with your own ribcage for so long
my memories melded between your synapses and
we became one
The DanceA sheepish smile crept across my face as I looked down to my feet.The Dance1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
My dark hair fell into my face and my eyes glanced up, just to peek.
There stood before me a tall young man, more handsome than any I've seen.
I knew he was quite a gentleman, for he treated me like a queen.
He stood there with his arms at his back, throwing glances my way.
We knew each other so well that there were simply no words to say.
His eyes were as green as ivy on a wall and as calm as the starry night sky.
Our eyes would meet and I'd get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I'd fly.
We were standing in the middle of a large ballroom, dull and painted gray.
The only sign of color was the flower on the piano which was placed there that day.
The air kicked on with a monstrous noise, and cool air blew through the room.
The flower began to sway and dance, and then another did bloom.
They danced together and twirled and dipped but something just was not right.
No music was playing, and they needed that if they wanted
BallerinaIn the morning, your feet are dancing,Ballerina4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
White feet, I would like you to kiss all the time.
I still hear the silent steps, to my ears like a rhyme,
When I think, that I can't posses them, I'm despairing.
Divides us a ten-centimeter wall,
I'm looking for holes to feel your scent, queen of silk.
My beloved lady, are you made of milk?
What shall I do, that you finally heard my call?
Next to you, my ballerina, with a guitar in hand, I'm nothing,
Since we are separated by centimeters, but this is a really big hole.
Show your swans heart to the egoist, because I stand against a wall like a bole.
I'm afraid, that when I scream "I love you", I never hear your dance again, my darling.
What I Can Learn From YouDon't tell me what you don't like.What I Can Learn From You4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I'm not interested.
Because what you don't like is
simply what you don't understand.
Instead tell me what you do like.
Because that is what you understand.
That is what I can learn from you.
.i dug up the.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
past again, those
i set them loose
inside the house
and now we have
Moving On“No.” It was all I could say, taking in the carnage of what had just last night been my pristine kitchen. I wanted to collapse onto a chair, but they – and our spacious table – were covered in miscellany. Cleaning supplies, random knick-knacks from the living room, a thermometer, a scale. It was all there, strewn about.Moving On2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My legs were shaking, and I fought the urge to cry. So messy. So dirty. No, no, no. I collapsed onto the shoe bench in between the Franco Sarto and the Gucci. I don't know where Giesswein had gone. I wished I could blame it on burglars, but no.
“She's doing it again!” I called, and my husband came running into the kitchen. We watched his mother rearrange my cabinets, turning tea-cup handles to the left instead of the right. My hands twitched.
“Ma, stop it!” he said, exasperation coloring his voice. “Put these things back, they were fine where they were!”
"No," she said, her voice heavily-accented. "I will take
I need YouI need to feel your touchI need You2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I need to love you
I need to hear your heart beat
and to always hear your voice
You lighten up my world
You bring happiness within my life
I need to be with you
to always have smiles on my face
I need you here
I need you there
I need you with all my heart
cause without you I am nothing
I need you to want me
I need you to love me
Cause I will always love you
deep within me
I always want to show you
I always want to be here for you
I need you to be with me
cause without you, I am nothing
So love me forever
love me always
For with you in my life
There will always be love
I need to feel your touch
To hear your voice
I need to always be with you
Cause my love, you complete my world
Creature - Ch.1The Pie ShopCreature - Ch.13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Ms. Trinket's Pie Emporium was a tiny five-table diner squashed between a convenience store and highway 93. It had a bright painted sign and screen doors no air-conditioning and its bathrooms were pit toilets in a row by the road. Behind it the Rocky Mountains rose from sloping green hills to jagged snowy peaks that brushed the sky. They were immense and other worldly, and as Hannah knew they were also dotted in flowers. Chiming Bells, violet Penstemons, nodding Beargrass and Glacier Lilies would all be clinging to the mammoth rocks, and they were also all either potted or growing wild in front of the Emporium. Hannah knelt beside the Penstemon her favorite of the four to get a better look. They were a member of the figwort family with five stamens and one that extended out like a tongue. Her biology professor had confused her by calling the plant by its nickname Beardtongue and she could see the reason now. They were so bright and
curioushis parents called him will, a condensed version for william. to me, "will" was the constant friday nights of his curved thighbone in the midnight air against mine, and scintillating neon lights and 80's music that were etched inside our pupils like crossfires.curious2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
david bowie was singing to me through my headphones, and i mumbled to him about will and my uneven forehead, (my skin wasn't clear anymore, either) and how will and i held hands in public restaurants and how my lips were so chapped that they peeled when we first kissed-- but i was seventeen, i had purple constellations doodled on my french homework, and during algebra class i sketched green eyes with thick black eyelashes that were distinctly his.
their expectations of you were standard by their own means--they wanted a husky boy with aftershave smeared on the palms on his hands, and on saturdays they imagined you with black oil decorated on your cheeks like a lit up christmas tree holding up your hands and furiously kicking <i>