#kotlb

[sunshinemiranda]

King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 5)

Summary: The Pirates want a fight, but the Lost Boys have self-destruct. Tink and a newfound Tiger Lily implore you to bring him back, leading you into Mermaid territory. 

Warnings: Swear words, drinking and smoking. 

Words: 7,644 (kill! me! please!)

A/N: i have no idea where this came from. i’m not joking when i say this but there’s a reason why it’s so disembodied. this might be either the worst or best chapter i’ve written for this series yet. oh god. anyway, enjoy. 

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You didn’t wear your leather jacket anymore. It hurt too much. The fabric was the same one that graced Anthony’s slim, proud shoulders; the texture was too familiar after reverently brushing your hands over it the night Oak had given it to you. The warmth and pride it imbued in your skin was seemingly gone. The people around you saw it as an article of clothing tossed to the side but it was much, much more than that. Saying you didn’t wear your leather jacket anymore was meant to express that you were not a Lost Boy anymore.

It hurt more than you could have possibly imagine to pull the jacket off and throw it at Anthony’s feet. He hadn’t let his cold expression fall for one second and it simultaneously made it easier and broke your heart. He was so perfectly good at what he did. It was a tragedy that you, despite all the pain, loved more than words could express.

So here you were, back in the school cafeteria, eating food that had lost all taste and thinking about the last few moments you had spent as a Lost Boy. In those dissipating minutes, so much that happened that you could only contemplate the instance in a sort of slow motion train of thought, not unlike molasses cloaking your brain so as to take in information more deeply.

It didn’t work, which didn’t surprise you. It hadn’t worked the night after the confrontation with the Pirates. It hadn’t worked once in the two days after you had left the Lost Boys. It hadn’t worked last night when all you could do to sleep was summon the feeling of flying. Even that had been tainted when Anthony’s smile flashed against your closed eyelids.

It hurt more than you could have possibly imagined to rip yourself away from that perfectly imperfect group. It really did.

“(Y/N)?”

Nat’s soft smile and bright eyes tugged you above the surface of your thoughts and you startled, sitting up straight on the uncomfortable blue plastic bench.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.” The words, even as they escaped your mouth, sounded so insincere that you physically cringed.

Nat let a breath out, treading lightly. She was the only other person who knew just how unstable this upheaval had left you.

“About them?”

Your hands tightened into fists. “As always.”

She pauses, lips pressed together as her thoughts solidify slowly. “You really loved that group, huh.”

“Yes.” The affirmation falls from your lips too quickly and before you know it, humiliation slaps a blush onto your cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Nat whispers, reaching across the table to press her hand over yours. “Can I…can I ask why this-“

“Please don’t.”

And she doesn’t because she can tell that your voice is distorted by the sort of emotion that comes when you’re holding back tears. And she doesn’t because she knows that hurt takes time but it scars with a sort of immortality too. And she doesn’t because she is your friend. That, all in itself, is enough for you to escape out the back door of the school before lunch period ends, wanting desperately but infinitely unable, to return to Neverland.

When you get home, the house is dark and you don’t bother to turn on the lights. Your bed has become the only refuge possible and even that is starting to be invaded by memories. As sleep takes hold of you with fragile fingers, there is a sinking feeling in your stomach that tells you your rest will be filled with restless dreams.

“I think they want Neverland.”

Slightly had been correct. The purr of motorcycle engines cut through the comfortable silence that enveloped the forest and by the time the words fell from Lin’s lips, Anthony had moved forward and there you were, as always, right behind him.

There was no possibility of forgetting the deep ache in your heart, however, and as you stepped forward, you gathered what little dignity you had left to stare at his leather-clad back in front of you. It was almost too much.

The Lost Boys were already grouped up at the mouth of the path and they turned to their leader with a rare vulnerability, an unsettling fear starting to rear its ugly head. It was the way they looked at Anthony that made your stomach twist with a bittersweet feeling. They were so devoted and until moments ago, you had been just as unwaveringly loyal.

“Tootles, is this the first you hear of this?” Anthony had already reverted to a granite exterior. Pan made his entrance.

“Yes,” Oak replied immediately. “I’ve been keeping my ear to the ground and neither the Mermaids or Tiger Lily knew about this.”

“I think it’s an ambush,” Nibs spoke up, an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice. “I scouted from the highest point possible and they’ve come in numbers.”

“I swear to God, if that asshole tries to wreck anything here, I’m keeping his teeth as a prize.” Tink had her jaw clenched, hands balled into tight fists.

“You know procedure. We start with diplomacy first, but be on your guard. Jordan, can you take (Y/N) to the projection room? Come back when she’s safe.” Pan threw a hand in the general direction of the shack.

Your blood boiled. “Are you fucking kidding me? No way. I’m staying with you guys.”

“It’s too dangerous, (Y/N). Absolutely not.” Pan’s gaze was cold but the underlying care in his message did not escape you.

“Listen to me, Anthony, or Pan, or whoever you’re choosing to be in this moment,” your voice had an edge, a symptom of leftover hurt. “I may not be a part of this immediate group anymore but that does not mean I want to watch a group of my friends dive headfirst into what’s, most likely, a trap. Now you can switch personalities all you want, you can pretend that you’re not afraid of loving and being loved, but what you cannot do is make me cower in fear while this group goes to fight for you, Pan. They’re fighting for you. So when I say I’m coming with you guys, it is not a suggestion. It’s just fact.”

Silence fell over everyone in the vicinity. You caught more than one slack-jawed expression out of the corner of your eye. Anthony was staring back, surprised for once and speechless. Pippa took the chance.

“Well I guess (Y/N)’s coming with us, then. Come on. We should get going.” She reached out and placed a cautious hand on your arm. It was meant to be a gauge; she was checking to see if you were okay.

The group moved without Anthony’s final say, which seemed to send a rebellious thrill down everyone’s spine. Finally, Pan nodded slightly, just a slight movement before stepping forward and taking his position at the head of the group.

You could see the gleam of Hook’s silver necklace in the moonlight from meters away and as the distance closed, you were reminded again of the eeriness of Smee’s cold gaze. She was not an exceptionally tall woman, quite the opposite, in fact, but she had a look in her eye that prompted your heart to find its way into your stomach. Hook himself practically made your skin crawl.

“My friends!” James Oleander, his blonde hair reflecting light, opened his arms as the Lost Boys approached. “It’s good to see you, you know, a guy gets to missing a ragtag bunch of quirks like you.”

“Hook,” Pan barely nodded his head in recognition. “What is this?”

“Whoa, you sure went defensive fast.” Hook tsk-ed, stepping forward as he lazily paced in front of the tense group. “Is it not okay for me to visit?”

“I think we made it quite clear that you aren’t welcome,” you snapped, unable to stop yourself. Pan sent you a glare, his expression telling you to back down immediately.

“Ah, yes! I do remember that, how could I forget. In fact, you were the lovely lady who knew exactly what to do with her hands.” He stepped towards you, a predatory grin on his face. Just as he reached you, Pan angled his body just so and blocked Hook’s approach with ease.

“Why don’t we stop with the banter and get to more important issues?” Anthony’s voice was the coldest it had ever been in all your experiences with him. The words themselves were polite but the chilling way he stated them set a new tone in the air.

James pulled back, eyes narrowing. “Hm. Alright, then. Let me present my desire.” He pulled away from the group and spread his arms wide, turning in a slow circle as he took in Neverland. “I want to expand Pirate territory. Now I know that sounds bad, but hear me out. It comes to my attention that your broke friend here, needs money for college.”

Oak let out a slow breath at that, trying his best to lose tension. The group tensed, ready to pounce and retaliate but he spoke before it could happen. “That’s correct.”

“Mhm, I thought so.” Hook nodded, a synthetic empathy honeying his words. “It must be so hard to be poor. I can’t even imagine. In any case, I am offering you money. Lots of it. So much money, indeed, that it would be enough to pay for this one’s tuition for years, enough to buy you all cars, enough to…” He paused, letting his eyes settle on you. “To buy anything your little hearts desire.”

Pan let out a disbelieving laugh. “Right. What’s the catch?”

Hook gasped, pulling a hand to his chest. “Is that what you think of me? Just a business man?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Slightly rolled his eyes.

“What’s the catch, Hook?” Pan repeated, voice stern and level.

James turned to face the Lost Boys, his grin only growing in size. “In exchange for all that, you give me Neverland.”

Any tension that had been rising promptly exploded. Curly lunged, his fist narrowly missing a Pirate’s face as Oak struggled to pull him back. Tink’s voice rose above the crowd, the Twins spread out and Nibs had already started to move forward, fists raised. Everyone was ready for a fight, until Pan held up one calm hand. All noise or conflict ceased.

“And if we turn down the offer?”

Hook looked up from where he was focusing on his nails, his expression of disinterest turning to a sadistic sort of glee. “Then we take it by other means.”

You immediately cut your eyes to Pan as he paused, the air filled with anticipation. He was stuck. You could see it in his posture, the way he was trying so desperately to fix what he could. It broke your heart and, with a newfound bravery, you stepped forward.

“That’s not quite fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, sweetie.” Hook sighed.

“At least let us fight for it.” Your plan, still forming, became solid as you spoke the words.

James paused, eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “I’m listening.”

“There’ll be a rumble. Give us a week to regroup; we’ll meet you in the clearing just off the highway. If we win, you pay for Oak’s education, fully and without complaint, we keep Neverland and you never return. If you win, we let you have this place and never bother you again.”

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Tink’s voice took your attention momentarily and you turned to her, attempting a smile.

“It’s okay, Pip. I’ve got it.” You returned your gaze to Hook, raising an eyebrow. “So? What do you think?”

He turned to Smee at his side and a silent conversation passed between the two before he focused on you again. “You’ve got a deal.”

The tension in the air seemed to snap and everyone in the vicinity deflated as the prospect of peace, though likely short-lived, became present. The Lost Boys watched in perfect silence as the Pirates took off on their motorcycles, leaving behind an acrid smell of exhaust and fear.

You turned to face the group, hoping against hope that you could bring these people together for just one second more of the golden light that past experiences exuded. It seemed possible until Pan spoke.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice was shaking with rage.

You could do nothing but stare at him in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“I said, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? You’ve just stepped forward and made a deal, not even thinking about the consequences, you didn’t even flinch. Maybe you should learn that you can’t go ahead with whatever plan takes your fancy at the goddamn moment.”

“But Pan, what if-“ Nibs attempted.

“Daveed, don’t.” Pan sent him a look that silenced the statement within seconds.

You threw your hands up, laughing coldly. “Right. Of course. Maybe you should learn to be grateful for once in your life. We have a week to get ourselves together and prepare for something we might have the chance to win, all thanks to me. I’ve given us-“

“Us?” He questioned. There was no light left in his eyes and as he stepped toward you, it was clear that not a trace of Anthony was present. “I think you’re mistaken, (Y/N). You’re not a part of the Lost Boys anymore, are you?”

“Anthony,” Oak called out, voice angered for once. “That is completely uncalled for.”

“No, this one was her choice. Isn’t that true, (Y/N)? Explain to these people why you’ve decided to so graciously drag us into this situation and skip out like it doesn’t mean anything.” Pan’s eyes had gone dark.

You stepped back, feeling tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Quickly, you ripped at the leather jacket hugging your figure, winding your arm back and throwing it at Anthony’s feet. He flinched but stayed still, staring defiantly at where the crumpled fabric lay on the ground.

“I hate you,” you whispered, frantically rubbing at tears that had fallen down your cheeks. “I hate you Pan, I hate you.”

You turned and ran and whether he watched you leave didn’t matter. Not even Tink’s desperate voice was enough to keep you from running and you so you did; running and running and running until you had practically no breath left and home was ahead.

The Lost Boys didn’t come to school anymore. Or at least, they hadn’t in the three-day period since the confrontation with the Pirates. You missed Tink desperately, Nibs too, and Slightly, and on that note, every single one of that band. Whether you liked it or not, they had been your family away from home. All you hoped was that they were preparing for a fight because Hook was undoubtedly bent on having what he wanted.

“You need to talk to Tink.” Nat’s ever-logical voice pulled you, once again, out of your shallow mulling.

“What? Why, what does that have to do with anything?” You, as usual, immediately deflected and focused on your, again, uneaten cafeteria lunch.

“It has to do with everything. (Y/N), this is ridiculous. You never sleep, there are bags under your eyes. You hardly eat, there’s nothing that you enjoy anymore. Most of all, you’re not…you’re not here anymore. It’s like you’re present in a shell but the rest of you is just…somewhere else.” Nat’s voice had a stern care to it and it was clear that you were hoping you would listen.

“I…” your deflection died in your throat. There was no point in denying any further. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You need to talk to Tink.” She said it with finality. “She’ll know what to do, I know it. You need that group of people. I know you don’t want to believe it but it’s true.”

“Nat, it’s over.” You looked up and just for a second, let her see just how broken you really felt. “All of it. There’s nothing left to fix, I can’t. I just can’t.”

After that, your friend stopped trying and maybe there was a blessing hidden in a curse there, but it didn’t feel like it. Instead, it just felt like pure, cold, untouched isolation.

Time was running short for the Lost Boys. You knew, just as well as they did, that Hook was ten times more vicious and willing to stoop as low as possible to get what he desired. In this case, it was Neverland. The boys were simply collateral damage. You wanted, desperately and more than anything, to reach out and contact them somehow but your pride had gotten in the way. In fact, no one other than Nat had tried to speak to you since the incident.

That was, until Tiger Lily entered the picture. When someone like her walked into the room, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know it. She had a striking sort of beauty about her, every one of her features seemed to be singing out in perfectly bold letters; jet black hair, warm copper-coloured skin and deep brown irises. It was the kind of beauty that graced Greek goddesses and female warriors from gilded storybooks. Tiger Lily didn’t go to your school; she led a band of equally lovely girls from her district, an allied counterpart of the Lost Boys. It was for this exact reason that the entire school fell into tense silence the moment she stepped into the room. Her dark brown eyes scanned the premises, a calm, calculated gaze. She promptly latched onto you and stepped, slowly and surely, in a straight line towards your table, pushing her dark hair over her shoulder as she slid into the seat next to you.

With that one action, the entire school seemed to burst at the seams. Waves of chatter rolled through every table, a mix of whispers and assumptions with you, cringing to make yourself the smallest shape possible. Ever since your fallout with the Lost Boys, the social hierarchy at school looked at you differently. After this, there was no way you could ever hope to lay low again. The murmurs continued and after Tiger Lily became too tired of waiting, she turned to the masses and help up one perfectly elegant hand. Immediately, the voices died down to a pleasant vibration and without a second of hesitation, she turned her focus to you.

“You’re (Y/N), right?” She questioned and the gravity to her voice surprised you. There was a pleasing huskiness to it that contradicted the elegant way she carried herself, a beautiful contrast.

“Y-Yes.” You barely managed to reply, shooting Nat a panicked glance. Your friend could only stare back at you with the same alarm.

“I’ve got a message,” she leaned forward, a duty in her tone. “From Tink.”

You could have melted at her words. An unparalleled relief tingled through your joints. “Tell me.”

“She wants to meet with you.” At this, she raised a single dark eyebrow and you tripped over yourself trying to agree.

“Where?”

“That club downtown, Belle Rêve.”

“Okay. How-how will I get there?”

Tiger Lily cracked a smile at that, emitting a musical, gravelly laugh. “You’ll travel with me, of course. Come on.”

“Wait,” you managed to choke out, your head spinning with development. “Why so soon?”

Tiger Lily had stood by now but she turned around to meet your eyes. Her gaze revealed a barely masked panic that you had become very well accustomed with over the last few days.

“(Y/N), I think you know, more than anyone, just how little time the Lost Boys have. If they’re going to get a winning chance, we need to go now.”

You sent her a nod that she accepted with an acknowledgment of her own. Hesitating slightly, you turned to Nat, bottom lip caught between your teeth. She sent you a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be fine. Go. You need to do this.”

Reaching out, you gave her hand a quick squeeze, you stood to follow Tiger Lily out, feeling the eyes of every person on your back and, as always, as if you were running out of time.

Belle Rêve, though exactly as you remembered it, was a completely different creature during the day. It lacked the thrill it carried in the dark of the night and the attendees were more sloth-like and half-lidded than the immortal feeling of young people ruling the night. This was the day drinking crowd.

“Tink’s in the back, I’ll show you.” Tiger Lily sent you a wave, her voice breaking you out of your stupor in moments.

Even in a place like this, Tiger Lily held the gaze of every person in the room. She didn’t seem to notice the attention that followed her around constantly. If she did, she remarkably good at hiding it. Her perfectly disinterested expression was part of the mystery she was and that only added to the magnetism that affected everyone around her. This was a princess on the tipping point of queen.

The hallway you walked was the exact same one that had led to Nat and the memory of Anthony’s hand, warm, real and wrapped around yours, punched you in the stomach with its presence. You visibly paled and stumbled on your feet but continued walking, determined to keep your priorities key. Tiger Lily noticed, sending you a half-worried look from the corner of her eye, but opting not to say anything. You were eternally grateful.

“She’s just through here,” she gestured at a red curtain, stepping aside to let you in first.

With only a single breath to prepare, you pushed the heavy fabric aside and, as always, moved forward.

Tink was perched on the edge of the couch, tension in every corner of her posture as she nursed a glass of amber liquid. A cigarette was dangling from between her trembling fingers and ash tumbled to the ground as she jerked her head upwards to get a glance at you. Before you knew it, she was moving like a blur towards you, glass left on the marble table with a slight ping. Her arms circled around your waist and you were left, wide-eyed, to contemplate how to maneuver a hug with Tink, of all people.

“You scared the shit out of us,” was all she said, the scent of her cigarette smoke wafting from behind you.

Near tears, you squeezed your eyes shut and returned her embrace with fervor, holding her body to yours, seeking warmth and friendship and just her goddamn presence.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured against her leather jacket. “I’m so fucking sorry, Jesus Christ, I shouldn’t have-“

“Don’t,” she said and from her tone, you could hear the reassuring smile in her voice. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We forgive you.”

Those words alone were enough for the tears in your eyes to find release and mark trails down your cheek as you clung to her. As your breathing slowed and her grip started to loosen, you took in a slow breath as you pulled away, sending her a small, watery smile.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she returned the smile but it seemed much more forced than yours. “And I hate to ruin this, but…”

As she trailed off, you understood the gravity of the situation and nodded once, beckoning her over as you took a seat on the red couch. Tink returned to her spot, taking a sip of browned whisky as her breaths moved shakily through her lungs. Tiger Lily had returned, now accompanied by two drinks, one of which she sat down in front of you. A mute thank you was communicated in smiles.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You murmured.

Pippa hesitated, taking the time to down the rest of her whisky. It was clear that she was in desperate need of some liquid courage.

“The Lost Boys are a mess, we don’t even know how to start with this clusterfuck of a situation. Pan has disappeared, hasn’t been seen at Neverland since you left.” Pippa paused. “We need you back.”

The air spiked with tension. Even Tiger Lily froze, looking between the two of you with a spark of curiosity. Your heart thumped against your ribcage.

“Tink, I don’t-“

“I know, I know.” She sighed, reaching up to pass a hand over her exhausted face. “It’s Pan, isn’t it.”

You let out a breath, falling back against the couch; eyes squeezed shut, as if to fend off sparkling memories gone bad.

“It always is,” Tiger Lily quipped, a bittersweet smile on her face.

A yawning chasm opened in your chest as words caught in your throat.

“What do you mean?”

Tiger Lily sighed, looking into her martini glass. “That boy has had three major counterparts in his life: you, Pippa, and myself. Anthony doesn’t…he doesn’t quite understand love. I think you’ve already found that out. And after he pushed me away and Pippa gave up, it just became known that the likelihood of someone else coming along was lessening each day. At least, that’s what we thought-“

“Until you.” Pippa glanced up, a wild sort of desperation in her eyes. You had never seen her so shaken. “Until you, (Y/N).”

You sent her a sad smile. “That’s sweet, but I think I’ve just joined the Jilted Lovers Club. You saw us, something…something broke.”

Tink squeezed her hands together in frustration. “I know. I know, and he’s the biggest asshole in the world, I realize that, but…(Y/N), I’ve never seen him like this before. I think when that something broke, it broke him too.”

Hands shaking, you set your glass down on the table, looking up to meet Tink’s gaze. “Pippa? What are you asking me to do?”

Tink was staring at her hands as the room boiled over with tension. Finally she looked up. “I need you to talk to Pan. I need you to convince him to come back.” It wasn’t the shock that stole the breath from your lungs. You had been expecting her to say something like that. It was the memories you were plunged into that crushed your heart under the pressure, like being underneath a thousand leagues of deep blue, almost black, water.

“Tink, I can’t.”

She breathed out. “Why?”

“I think…I think if it goes wrong…I don’t think my heart can take it.”

There was a pause and you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth grinding as you suppressed and internalized anything inconvenient that came up. You didn’t open your eyes again until Tink’s presence became tangible. She had closed a bit of distance between you on the couch, her eyes imploring and desperate.

“None of this is for him. This fight for Neverland is for Neverland. It is not for Pan or so the Lost Boys can keep their hold in this part of town or for bragging rights. It is not to keep our pride from being injured. We are fighting for each other. I fight for the Twins just as much as Curly does. I fight for Nibs and Tootles and Slightly and you, (Y/N), because you are one of us too. Pan is our leader, not our purpose. Come back to us. Talk to him. Please. I am begging you, (Y/N). We have to fight.”

You stared at her, barely breathing as she spoke. Every one of her words thundered in your mind, the impact nearly destroying you.

“I’ll do it. Not for him, not even for me. For all of you.”

Tink grinned, a sight you had missed. “We owe you one.”

“Where is he?”

Tink turned to Tiger Lily, raising an eyebrow. The girl in question set down her empty martini glass and stood, propping her hands up on her hips.

“There’s only one place Pan goes to drown his sorrows; The Lagoon.”

“And that is…?” You trailed off.

“It’s a bar, which I can get us into fairly easily. Only problem is that it’s in Mermaid territory.” Tiger Lily rolled her eyes at the mention of the fourth gang in the district.

“Why is that an issue?”

“Their leader Matsu and Pan are okay enough friends, but since he’s come alone and made it clear that he wants distance from the Lost Boys, I’m not sure if her hospitality will extend to us too.

Tink stood, waving you towards the doorway. “Come on. We’ve got a date with a couple mermaids and a fairy boy.”

The Mermaids had a freezing cold kind of beauty that belonged to ladies of the lake of legend. They were an eccentric group that kept to themselves, staying modest in their territory but fiercely protective. Each one of them was hypnotizingly beautiful with a crackling air of danger that seemed to spark from their skin. They were the sirens responsible for the shipwrecks of lost sailors. Stray too close and they will bite.

Matsu is the leader and it only takes one look to understand why. She is tall, sleek and visibly untouchable. Her name comes from the Chinese deity, a goddess of the sea who doubles as the powerful and miraculous Queen of Heaven. Each and every one of Matsu’s movements is slow and purposeful, every one of her limbs seemingly floating as if perpetually suspended deep under water. Her eyes are impossibly obsidian, hair just as dark and olive skin glowing with a blue-ish tint. Unlike the Pirates and the Lost Boys, she chooses to be gloriously neutral, rising above every single conflict that mark Pan’s knuckles and cause Hook’s nose to bleed. She is the queen of a nonpartisan nation but a short fuse in conflicts around her might just one day force her hand. The Mermaids, whether they liked it or not, would have to fight.

In their part of town, the Mermaids had a stronghold in a bar appropriately named The Lagoon. Pan didn’t frequent the place but he had a stable enough tie to Matsu that allowed him to come in without needing to worry about a bouncer throwing him out. It was the only place, other than Neverland, that Pan could visit to disappear from the rest of the world.

Daylight was fading from sight as Tiger Lily’s car pulled up to the place. Afternoon was quickly turning to evening and in the conflicting war of light versus dark, the neon green sign seemed to take on a haunting sort of flicker.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of town before,” you murmured, partially to yourself as you took in the surroundings.

“The Mermaids keep to themselves. They’re not hard to find on a map but there’s hell to pay if you try to get in uninvited. Come on.” Tink beckoned you forward, taking the lead through the door as you followed behind, flanked by Tiger Lily.

The hallway was darkened and oddly deserted. There was no one to check ID at the door, no tall intimidating presence blocking the doorway, just a long stretch of black tile that felt foreign under your feet. Finally, after twisting through the maze like corridor for what seemed like an eternity, blue and green lights appeared at the end of one last turn and you emerged from the tunnel like hallway into a darkened bar filled with aquamarine undertones.

In the center of the room, a tall woman stood perfectly still, her hair pulled up in a neat and purposeful braided bun, two attendants at her elbow.

“Matsu. It’s nice to see you,” Tink smiled, not even missing a beat. Her voice was civil but there was a tension underneath it.

“It’s been a while.” Matsu replied, her voice cool and enchanting. “Hello, Tiger Lily.”

Tiger Lily barely made a move of recognition, only bothering to tilt her head down slightly. “Matsu.”

“And who is this?” Matsu enquired, lifting a perfect eyebrow as she turned her sight toward you.

“My name is (Y/N),” you managed, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “And I think you know why we’re here.”

Matsu smiled at that, her glossy pink lips catching blue light. She stepped forward, the click of her heels echoing loudly, even against the beat that pumped from the speakers. She had closed some considerable distance and with her so near, your heart thudded painfully in your chest.  

“I do,” she admitted, eyes assessing as she stared at you. “The only problem is whether I feel charitable enough to let you have what you want.”

“Matsu, if you think-“ Tink started but you put a hand on her arm, silently asking for civility.

“Please.” You breathed. “Please do this. I know this is your territory and we respect that. This is not an offensive approach. We just came here to talk to Anthony. Please, Matsu.”

You met her eyes directly and her assessment slowed there. Her hand dropped from her hip as she searched your expression. Something in Matsu’s demeanor switched and she breathed out, stepping back. One hand lifted to point down the left hallway.

“He’s in there.”

Pulling up a smile, you nodded, stepping quietly down a small turn off, Tink and Tiger Lily following behind. The next room was more brightly lit but it still carried that blue glow that simulated an underwater feeling. Your eyes searched the room desperately until your heart stuttered to an uncomfortable stop.

Perched on a bar stool, whisky in hand, a boy in a white t-shirt with a head of curly hair filled the room with a wild presence. He wasn’t wearing his leather jacket anymore. Your breath escaped in a single second and you froze, hands trembling at your side. The world started closing in, blood roaring in your ears until you felt Tink’s tentative touch at your arm. You turned to her with glazed eyes and she sent you a smile.

“For each other, right?” She murmured.

“For each other.” You replied.

Your steps were shaky but purposeful and time seemed to slow as you attempted to close space between you and Pan. This was the perspective you always had, almost close enough to touch him but too far away to do so. He was always so infuriatingly near.

Soon enough, you had appeared beside him, settling down on a leather stool. He didn’t address you at all, seemingly numb to his surroundings. The only movement he exhibited was to bring his glass to his lips.

“I’ll have a dry Vesper, please.” You signalled the bartender, sending her a smile as thanks.

“I thought you didn’t like martinis.”

His abrupt speech startled you and your gaze whipped from the marble counters to his side profile. His voice was hoarse and gravelly, seemingly so from disuse. It was either that or he had been smoking too much.

“It’s not that I don’t like them. I just prefer Sex on the Beach.”

“The act, or the drink?”

His choice of words echoed from the first time you had met him, pearly white teeth gleaming in the dark lights of the club.

“Oh, that’s real class.” You murmured, repeating the exact same remark you had thrown back.

A half smile twisted the corner of his lips up and finally, finally, it was like you could breath again. The bartender set your martini down and you nodded your thanks, taking a drink before setting it down, a breath moving steadily in, then out.

“What are you doing here, (Y/N)?” He murmured, reaching into his leather jacket to retrieve a box of Newport cigarettes and a lighter.

“Oh, you didn’t know? I’m the one who’s supposed to drag your dumb ass back to Neverland.”

He snorts a laugh at that, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette before speaking again. “Of course. I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think I’m coming back.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach out for the bottom of his stool, spinning his seat to the side so you can look at him straight on. Not yet satisfied with his level of concentration, you reach your hand out and snatch the cigarette from between his fingers. His eyes widen but he stays relatively still.

“Just shut up and listen, would you? I’m not here for you. I almost didn’t come when Tink asked me to.”

“Why am I not surprised that she-“

“What did I say about listening, Pan? Like I said, I’m not here as some whining, brokenhearted admirer of yours. This is bigger than you. It’s bigger than me, hell, it’s bigger than the Lost Boys too. You owe it to those people to fight. You’re the leader, Pan. That means something. You can’t just drop out of sight when it appeals to you.” Momentarily satisfied with the impact of your words, you pause.

The cigarette in your hand is glowing orange and something about its light is so enchanting that you bring it to your lips, moving slowly. You catch a look of shock pass over Pan’s face as you inhale, then breathe out, a cloud furling elegantly from your mouth. It sets your pounding heart at rest. You reach your arm out and pass the cigarette back to him as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t. I’m just trying to prove something.”

“And what’s that?”

“That just because something is out of character, that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to do it. Just because it’s not usually something you do, it’s okay to exhibit and express your emotion. It’s okay to feel attached to the Lost Boys. It’s okay because, fuck what other people think.”

He’s looking at you cautiously now, guard slowly falling as he mulls over your words and takes another drag off his cigarette. “Tink was fuckin’ smart to choose you to come get me.”

Your mouth pushes into a grin against your own will. You swivel on your seat, turning back to the bar counter to drink from your martini glass. “Does that mean you’re coming back?”

Pan downs the rest of his whisky, looking down, his free hand drumming a quiet beat against the counter. “No.”

Your teeth grind with frustration, hands curling into fists against the marble. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“(Y/N) it’s just too-“

“No. Don’t give me that shit. God, you are un-fucking-believable. These are the people you treat like a second goddamn family. This is a group of refused souls that you pulled together. I might have gotten us in this situation. I’ll take the blame for it if that’s what you want. But if you don’t have enough in you to get us out of this hole, I don’t think you’re good enough to be that person. The one who heads the charge, the leader, the king of the Lost Boys. If this is the case, you don’t deserve the crown. We fucking need you, Anthony.” You’re standing by now, two steps farther away from him as you prepare to storm out.

He freezes there, hands still as his cigarette burns its last few breaths. “Do you need me?”

There’s a pause. “That’s not relevant.”

“Yes, Jesus Christ, it is. Say it.”

“No.”

“Please. I want to hear it, just once.”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Why?”

You take in a breath, eyes closing. “Because it’s true. And I think you know that. Just come back to us. Please?”

Anthony turns slowly, facing you with soft, glimmering eyes. “I can’t. I’m scared.”

Again, you are struck with the realization that he is just as young as you. This is a boy in front of you, lost, wild and desperate as hell. But that doesn’t mean he’s an exception. A fire of hurt and anger rises up in your chest and you turn away.

“We’re all scared, Anthony. It’s just that the rest of us are deciding to face up to this fight anyway.”

With that, you leave the room with quick, long strides, seeing Tink and Tiger Lily hovering at the end of the hallway.

“So? How did it go?” Pippa asks, anticipation clear in her posture.

“You’re right. He is an asshole. Come on, we should get to Neverland. We’ve got a fight to prepare for.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the event of coming back to Neverland. The place had changed considerably. Plants were starting to wither, brown tinges appearing on previously healthy leaves. The pines were shedding layers of needles that created a thick matt on top of the roots. The sky had lost its perfect, cloudless blue. Everything was turning gray and you knew that it was due to Anthony’s absence. With Pan gone, Neverland was dying.

However, coming back to the rest of the boys filled you with such a sense of pride and nostalgia that a tear almost slipped from your eye. The moment Tink pushed open the projection room’s screen door and waved to you with a grand flourish, a loud whoop went up and the room burst into cheers.

“(Y/N)! It’s good to see you,” the Twins grinned in unison.

“There’s my girl,” Nibs threw out, one fist in the air.

“You’re back.” Curly smiled.

Slightly only sent you a wink and a smile.

“Welcome home,” Tootles smiled softly, but it was clear through the lines in his face that tension had been high recently.

“I couldn’t convince Pan to come back, but I promise you, I am here.” You sent all of them a smile. “We have a couple days left so let’s get ready.”

Preparing meant more than just learning how to fight. Making sure the authorities wouldn’t interrupt the fight was paramount to the survival of Neverland. If the police found out a bunch of teenaged delinquents were squatting on privately owned property, and organizing fights on it, there would be hell to pay. Nibs took it upon himself to teach you how to fight, making sure you felt comfortable in your own skill. The Twins scoped out a covered path as an escape route if anything truly went wrong. Slightly and Tink took to rebuilding the gate that closed at the steel sign, swearing up and down that when the Lost Boys fought and won Neverland, this gate would make it clear that this was their territory. Tiger Lily, unable to convince her own group to get involved in the conflict, had stayed to personally help as much as she could.

Time went fast. Too fast, and now you were standing in front of a group of half-scared, half-enraged teenagers about to dive into a rumble headfirst. The clearing you had arranged to meet in was close enough to Neverland to feel the brunt of the rot that seemed to be a result of Pan’s absence. The forest lush around you was turning brown.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “So today is the day. Tink told me, when she was convincing me to come back to this place, that the Lost Boys fight for each other. They don’t fight for themselves, or their pride, or even for Pan. We fight because we’re kind of…”

“Family,” Oak spoke up, his voice strong and sure.

You sent him a grin. “Yeah. We’re kind of family. And honestly, this is the best kind of family anyone could ask for. So maybe some of us have our vices, and maybe some of us are a little beat up but that’s okay. We’re okay. We are going to be okay. I promise. We’re outnumbered, and scared and we might not be able to have this place anymore, but let’s think about us instead. I mean, the Lost Boys deserve glory, but we deserve respect and love too.”

“You’re goddamn right,” Slightly grinned.

You looked around, remembering the youthful glimmer in every look they returned. It was a misshapen but happy group, perfectly imperfect. It struck you, then and there, that you were a little bit in love with all of them. Every single Lost Boy.

A collective gasp rolled through all seven people. Their eyes were trained on something behind you. A familiar spark flew through your veins. You turned slowly, almost sure of what you were about to see but unable to believe it.

There he was. Pan, in all his boyish, fairy dust glory, hair falling haphazardly out of his ponytail. His leather jacket, the only icon that belonged to the Lost Boys sloped over his shoulders. He had come back, and not alone. Eight Mermaids, beautiful, cold, untouchable women followed him, their sheer number balancing your group out easily with the number of people under Hook’s grasp.

“You guys weren’t thinking of having all this fun without me, were you?” Anthony grinned.

Nibs was shaking his head, a grin tilting his lips up as he crossed his arms. “You motherfucker.”

Pan approached, the Mermaids melding into the group, and took a spot beside you. The dynamic between you two had changed. Instead of protection, he was offering support now.

“Seems like you thought about what I said,” you grinned, propping a hand on your hip as you stared at him.

“I did,” he smiled, turning serious. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

“For what?”

“For trying.”

“Anytime,” you replied.

Pan turned around, eyes flicking over each member of his motley crew. “I think I owe you all an apology. I didn’t think about you guys when I disappeared and that was my biggest mistake. You guys deserve better.”

“Yeah, but who cares?” You shrugged, sending Anthony a small smile. “We like it this way. You’re a good leader, Ant. You’re king of the Lost Boys.”

The rumble of motorcycle engines echoed in the distance, getting closer with each passing second. The Pirates were on their way.

“Well then,” Pan breathed out, facing forward as a spark of determination lit in his eyes. “A king must fight for his people.”

[alexanderhamllton]

sorry if you can't answer this but do you know why sunshinemiranda stopped using tumblr? her blog was one of my favorites and i miss her a lot

I miss Liv a lot too :( last time we spoke she was working into turning KOTLB in an actual novel, besides classes and personal stuff so I think she probably got caught up on all that! I hope we hear from her soon ❤

[sunshinemiranda]

king of the lost boys headcanons - pt. 2 (nibs)

note: hi guys!!!! i’m so sorry i’ve been missing for a while now, i’ve been really busy. my job has been crazy lately and schoolwork is just piling up. i apologize and hope you all know that i promise to get to your lovely asks and messages. and NOW for the headcanons i know quite a few of u have been waiting for!!

DAVEED “NIBS” DIGGS:

u know the song ‘womanizer’ by britney spears ?

yah that shit is playin’ in his head all day long 

it is theme song, his go to jam, the song he would choose to walk in slow motion to, u get the idea

okay so we all know he’s a player ok? ok.

whenever this bitch knows he’s got some really crazy hickies he finds the stupidest reasons to wear v-necks or take his shirt off unnecessarily and the lost boys just roll their eyes while he smirks

what a hot asshole i hate him

like. daveed loves sex and thrills this is just. one of the facts of life. 

but what i think y’all don’t fully realize is.,.,.,this boy/,//....is so insecure

i know i know things don’t fully match up but this, like slightly’s own false front, is a way for him to indulge in affection (which he craves) and yet keep away from full on strings attached (which he is terrified of)

essentially: daveed = scared of commitment. 

his one night stands and countless girl and boyfriends (!!! u heard me !!!) are a way for him to get the attention and care that he missed as a child

even though this care and attention is very superficial and generally only lasts the night, he uses it as a way to feel SAFE

pls just. i wanna see nibs happy. like. c’mon. who even writes this shitty fic. unbelievable. 

nibs!! is!! a!! rapper!! 

he gets small gigs at the belle rêve club from time to time and the boys never forget to come out and support their buddy

it’s actually rlly cute like when he’s up there, on stage, rapping intensely fast verses they lost boys stand there all smug like

mhm that’s our friend yah bitch that’s right u fuckin heard me yeah i’d be jealous too okay hey wait pls keep at least 3 metres away thanks

what’s even better is that sometimes him and slightly work together and turn poems and raps into a hybrid of sorts that just KICK ASS

so we have established that this guy loves his one night stands. well. lemme talk real quick about nibs w an s/o

this guy. THIS GUY. for all his sexy making out w random ppl and not being afraid to show hickeys, he is surprisingly scared of pda w an s/o!!

like after all this compensation for the affection he’s missed, very public pda w an s/o who he genuinely cares about and is attached to feels almost too much

but he loves to hold hands bc it’s so sweet and innocent

he hides his feelings a lot and puts his own emotions second to that of the people he cares about which can be a huge issue

if his s/o ever hurt his feelings unknowingly he’d probably just crumble in on himself and take all the blame 

fucdklsfd i wanna cry

because of this, a relationship w nibs would require some VERY. GOOD. COMMUNICATION. 

after being w his s/o for a while and opening up, he becomes less afraid and awkward and goes back to being good ole daveed w his dirty jokes and crazy grin

it just shows that there will have to be work in this relationship but once daveed feels emotionally stable and comfortable w commitment, GOD, he would give his bby the gosh darn WORLD. 

[sunshinemiranda]

king of the lost boys headcanons - pt. 1 (slightly)

LIN-MANUEL “SLIGHTLY” MIRANDA: 

lin met chris in preschool

there was someone attempting to bully lin into giving up his lunch money and curly came by and delivered the strongest punch that slightly had ever seen in his life

chris had just wanted to help this scrawny boy out tbh?? like he is NOT one to have a lot of friends

but lin just started following?? him??? around???? all the time.

and after a while curly just sort of got used to it and in the end, he taught lin how to fight

well as best as he could, slightly was always picking too many fights to actually practice 

that boy mouths off like there is NO tomorrow and curly has gotten him out of so many fights

most of them happen at clubs when lin is half drunk and accidentally hits on someone else’s date or shoves past someone just because he’s impatient

it’s always chris and oak who have to drag slightly away by the arm with him still throwing curses.

and i haven’t even gotten started on the PICK POCKETING. 

okay so yeah lin steals. that’s where he got his name. you know, the “sleight of hand” thing? also boy is pretty lanky

it isn’t with ulterior motives though, this cutie is a sweet little dork

the people he steals from are people who can obviously afford it. half the money goes to stocking the fridge in the neverland projection room, jeez, and the other half goes to saving for college

and yeah the money is acquired.,.,.,.illegally

but at least it’s going to a good cause am i RIGHT.

now let me get something straight: slightly is sort of.,.,.he’s sort of fake

HEAR ME OUT. he’s like pan in the sense that they both put up fake personalities and pretences as ways of keeping them from getting hurt

lin puts up a false front to distance himself and build walls. he wants to be cool and admired and liked and this is the price it comes at, it seems

but with an s/o.,.,.,.hoo boy

slightly is the slickest motherfucker u have ever met i swear to god

he might be dorky sometimes but there isn’t an instance where he isn’t trying his hardest to make you blush

lin can hardly believe that there is someone in this world who truly loves him for him 

there’s no need for him to keep up that wall with you around and there is nothing he is more grateful for than that

during the tentative start of the relationship, he’s quite cautious with pda and physicality in general 

but when he starts opening up and you start expressing things as longterm and making it clear that you adore him as much as he adores u, u guys cannot keep ur hands OFF EACH OTHER

he is always holding your hand or playing with your hair

every time there’s a meeting in the projection room u can bet ur BUTT that his lap will be open for you to settle in and get comfy

it gets so excessive that at one point the rest of the group just HUFFS

“CAN YOU GUYS JUST. CHILL. FOR LIKE FIVE MINUTES. JUST FIVE MINUTES.”

he responds all calm like “yeah yeah ok ok yeah sure cool cool cool” 

and u agree like “totally totally totally for sure for sure i understand”

but then within like 30 seconds y’all probably makin’ out again

he adores sharing his bits of poetry with you, it’s his favourite part about writing anything at all

just to see the way you look at him when he’s reading something inspired by the feel of your hand in his

you tell him endlessly about how much you love every bit of paper he covers in pencil and deliver a kiss to his forehead after every recitation

“it’s genius.”

“actually? cause i sort of felt like i should have made the-”

“lin. it’s genius.” 

the thing about lin is that the words “i love you” aren’t said all too often

it’s one of those show, don’t tell situations and oh god does it work well

there is an i love you in the times he slips his jacket around you if you shiver in the slightest

there is an i love you in the bottomless support he always receives from you that he cherishes so, so much

there is an i love you in the way he feels comfortable enough to be simple beside you

there is an i love you in the way you assuage his fears by whispering “you are the you that i love. always.”

he calls you “mi cielita/cielito”, his sky, his heaven

you are the little paradise that he has been looking for where he can be young and honest and happy

you know those couples who talk about being high school sweethearts and not having a single doubt about their future being intertwined?

yeah. yeah, that’s you and slightly. 

[sunshinemiranda]

aesthetics by @alexanderhamllton and playlists by @sunshinemiranda.

PHILLIPA “TINK” SOO: 

“she was an innocent girl gone typically bad; dyed her hair, picked up a leather jacket and a cigarette and hadn’t been the same since.”

cigarette fairy, a playlist on 8tracks and spotify. 

LESLIE “TWIN 1″ ODOM JR. & JORDAN “TWIN 2″ FISHER:

“the twins are next, two young men who are together more than they’re apart, prone to speaking scarily in unison and finishing each other’s sentences.” 

in tandem, a playlist on 8tracks and spotify. 

[sunshinemiranda]

(whispering) i’m changing the names in king of the lost boys and editing some more and then submitting it for a novel contest (murmuring) if i win it can get published as an ebook and paperback (at level speech) creating new characters and names for these people has saved me i swear (louder now) PAN IS A CANON LATINO BOY.  (yelling) TOOTLES HAS A FRENCH NAME NOW.

(SCREAMING) TINK IS AN ARABIC, MUSLIM WOMAN WHO WEARS A HIJAB.

[sunshinemiranda]

King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 4)

Summary: Nibs seems to see a certain spark between you and Pan. Some Pablo Neruda is traded for intimacy. A waltz ends up in a fight. Hook wants Neverland. 

Warnings: Swearing! (it’s pretty much all Nibs that kid curses like a sailor)

Words: 5,299 (listen...just listen...)

A/N: oh my god i have sucked so bad with writing lately. this helped me get over a block but i also totally procrastinated studying for an exam haha priorities so that’s great! there is a song that plays in this chapter so i’ll just link it on one of the words in the scene. please listen to it, oh my god, it is so good. enjoy. 

askbox | masterlist

Change was in the air. Everyone could feel it crackling in the air like electricity. The future loomed, clouded, unsure and threateningly close. Time seemed to pull to an immediate stop in Neverland, but as soon as you stepped one foot on the highway asphalt, it was if the world had to compensate for the temporary freeze by speeding up instead.

“God, before this term is over, Mr. Kravitz will actually kill me.” Nibs was groaning from the corner, buried in piles of textbooks, loose pages and half-finished assignments.

“You’ll be fine,” you chuckled. “Besides, it’s too hard for him to kill a student who never goes to his class.”

Narrowing his eyes, he flipped his middle finger in your general direction, to which you replied with an affectionate grin. Things with Daveed had smoothed over in a way that you had never thought possible. He was more insecure than anyone believed him to be and a new bond of trust between the two of you made talking through it much easier. You had worked past your prejudices, and he had finally gained a friend through more than compensation. It was the perfect equation.

“So, (Y/N), since you’re a new member of the Lost Boys,” he drawled, standing to make his way to sit across from you. “I’ve got to ask. When are you going to fuck Pan?”

You, in the middle of drinking from a mug of tea, choked ungraciously as you sputtered through words. “Oh my God. You can’t just spring that shit on me. The answer to that is: A, I don’t have to tell you anything and B, don’t ask stupid questions, dickhead.”

He reached one of his long legs out to kick gently at your shin, a bit of a laugh bubbling from his chest as you choked on mint tea. “You do have to tell me something because you’re one of us now, and my questions are gloriously stupid, thank you very much. It’s one of my talents with the ladies. They all think I’m dumb.”

You couldn’t help but snort out a laugh as he made a show of himself, puffing his chest out in mock pride and flexing to the point of it looking painful. “You know, that’s probably the truest thing you’ve ever said in your life. I always did wonder how you got so many dates. You have a truly unmatched talent and being unintelligent. Congratulations.”

“Don’t you try to get purposefully carried away now. We have to talk about this.”

“Nibs, there is nothing to talk about. Pan and I kissed like, once at a bar. He was drunk, I was drunk. People do that all the time and never even interact again.”

“First of all, Pan was sober as fuck when that happened. It’s not that he doesn’t drink, it’s just that he hadn’t gotten to it when you guys made out. He made that decision in good judgment and through a valid choice.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Then let’s just say I was drunk. That still doesn’t change anything.”

“Actually, yes it does. It takes Pan at least, like, four shots to actually find a girl he’s willing to swap saliva with. It didn’t take any for you.”

“Gross. We did not ‘swap saliva’, Daveed.”

“Right. And I don’t think your friend is hot. Anyway, you’re right when you say people do that all the time and never speak again. Remember who you’re talking to, babe, I’m the master at avoiding. Problem is, you guys interact. A lot. And half of it is charged with this weird, frustrated, sexual tension that just makes everyone uncomfortable.”

You gave a groan and let your head fall back on the couch. “Can we please not discuss my love life? I already feel like enough of a sinner in your presence.”

“So it’s your love life with Pan, now? Hm. Interesting.” Daveed nudged your leg again, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Fuck you, Diggs.”

“Wrong person, (Y/N). The person you want is Anthony, who, by the way, should be getting here any minute now.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Wow. You’ve really painted me into a corner. Way to use your clever wit. I’m not scared of being in his presence, Daveed.”

“I believe that,” he nodded, and it was sincere. “I just think it’s better for you guys to be alone, so I’ll be leaving when he gets here. That way, you guys can talk it out without other people in the room, and when I say talk it out, I mean use that couch for what it’s for.”

“Nibs, you don’t understand. He’s…different with me, and different with you. It’s like he has-“

“Two personalities.” Daveed gave a sigh, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. “I know. It’s a problem for him.”

“You knew this entire time?” You couldn’t do anything but stare. Up until this point, it had been a Jekyll and Hyde case with Anthony that you thought had been under wraps this entire time.

“We all do. It’s hard to talk about it with him, he gets so defensive. We were all hoping that he’d realize he doesn’t have to pretend to be a hard-headed dick in the public eye now that he’s met you.”

Eyes widening, you opened your mouth to pull a snarky reply together but the screen door clattering open dragged your attention away.

Anthony stood there, in all his leather-jacket clad glory and God, it seemed like he looked even more beautiful than the last time you’d seen him. His hair was down for once, and the sun had brought out his star-kissed freckles. He shot you a smile and the part of your brain that could not be controlled whispered, fuck. Daveed was right.

“Right, that’s my cue,” Daveed stood, throwing his leather jacket over his shoulder. “I should get going. Nice to see you, Pan.” He reached out and grasped his leader’s hand for a moment before sweeping by you, shooting you a quick, almost imperceptible wink as he exited.

Anthony took a seat, letting out a tired breath. The smile was still on his face but it was uneasy now. The atmosphere had changed. “Was Nibs bothering you?”

“Yeah, but just the usual kind of bothering. I don’t think Daveed can help but get on everybody’s nerves, at least a little.” You offered a smile, an olive branch of sorts.

“Oh, God, I know. I still don’t understand how these women fall at his feet while he manages to still be that childish.” A laugh fell from his lips and it was as if the sound dissolved all the uneasiness in the air. He was truly a magic kind of boy.

“He’s undeniably good at what he does,” you chuckled, leaning back on the couch as you took a sip of your tea.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes with exhaustion momentarily before he shook himself and glanced at the table in front of you. It was covered in different books, highlighters, colour coded page markers. A Pablo Neruda book was open on the table, orange highlighter picking out special lines.

“Did I interrupt anything?” He asked, concerned, and gave a gesture to the table.

His comment ripped you back to reality and, blushing, you reached forward to scramble your open books and highlighters into a pile. “No, no, I was…I was just reading.”

“You need all that,” he chuckled, moving from the wooden chair to take a spot next to you on the couch. “Just to read?”

“Well…yes,” you smiled, staring at the half-open Neruda book in your hands, still open to a poem titled Absence. “I can’t read a Neruda book, or Whitman’s words without knowing I have a highlighter. I feel like if I don’t remind myself which parts made me feel something, that I’ll forget it altogether and I’ll never remember why Charles Bukowski made me feel a certain way.”

A silence passed and you looked up to see him staring at you, eyes deep with awe and reflection. You blushed, looking away hurriedly, embarrassment coiling deep in your chest.

“It sounds stupid, doesn’t it.” You attempted a laugh, looking down at your hands as your face burned.

He paused, and then reached out, gently taking the Neruda book from your hands. Gently, he reached out to tip your chin up, encouraging you to meet his eyes again. He was smiling.

“I love Neruda.”

It was a silent assurance, a wordless comfort that he understood, more than anyone you had ever met, what it meant to be at the mercy of words.

“Then let’s read some,” you smiled, reaching to take the book from his hands. You flipped through the pages thoughtfully, silently wondering which beautiful passage to read from. Finally, you found something.

“Beloved of the rivers, beset by azure water and transparent drops-“ you started, but the look of recognition on his face dragged your attention to him.

“I love this one.” He grinned.

“Me too,” you admitted, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“(Y/N), please, could you continue?” He asked, voice soft. “It sounds so good when you read it.”

The way he stared at you with the wondrous eyes that seemed to reflect in the curious gaze belonging to children made your heart clench painfully. The realization that the two of you were still, simply kids came flowing back. Somewhere in the past, he had been let down and you felt a strong willingness to right every wrong committed against him rise up in your chest. You sent him a fond smile before continuing.

“Like a tree of veins your specter, of dark goddess biting apples; and then awakening naked to be tattooed by rivers, and in the wet heights your head filled the world with new dew. Water rose to your waist, you are made of wellsprings and lakes shone on your forehead. From your sources of density you drew water like vital tears, and hauled the riverbeds to the sand across the planetary night, crossing rough dilated stone, breaking down on the way.” In glancing up, you caught a sight of him mouthing the words of the poem to himself, leaning ever closer to hear you say them.

“All the salt of geology, cutting through forests of compact walls, dislodging the muscles of quartz.”

You set the book down and looked up to grin at him, to which he returned it.

“That one always reminds me of Neverland. I didn’t lie, you know?”

“About what?” you enquired.

“About it sounding good when you read it. It really did.”

“Thank you.” You found yourself blushing harder than you had planned. “You’ve got a good voice too, you know. You should read one.”

“Okay. My turn then,” he smiled and you reached to place the book in his hands. He flipped through the pages until he found a particularly highlighted page, marked all over with notes in the margins and orange streaking line after line.

“I have scarcely left you, when you go in me, crystalline, or trembling.” His voice struck a resounding, plaintive chord within you and the air itself seemed to still at the sound of his voice speaking poetry. It was all of a sudden imbued with a magic that was incomparable. It seemed that he was practically made to speak beautiful words. “Or easy, wounded by me, or overwhelmed with love, as when your eyes close upon the gift of life that without cease, I give to you.”

He looked up, saw the rapt attention with which you listened and moved closer to you, took one of your palms in his. His fingers ran rampant, tracing lines over your fingers, exploring, and yet still preoccupied with the words on the page. 

“My love, we have found each other thirsty and we have drunk up all the water and the blood, we have found each other hungry and we bit each other as fire bites, leaving wounds in us.” 

You could hardly breathe with his presence and yet you were so enraptured that your body seemed to tremble at his tone. It was overwhelming in the sweetest way possible.

“But wait for me,” his voice had softened. “Keep for me your sweetness. I will give you, too, a rose.”

The room fell so quiet that even the birds of Neverland ceased their singing. Then, in unison, the two of you drew a breath and released it at the same time, as if your lungs had synced on purpose, your hearts matched beat and oh God, his hand was still tracing shapes over yours.

“My turn,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper.

It didn’t take long to find the poem you had pored over endlessly. After the first night you had met this boy, someone who had managed to reinvent your world in the space of one hour, you had read these words over and over, finding relevance and bittersweet memories in every line. It was painfully familiar.

“We have lost even this twilight. No one saw us this evening, hand in hand, while the blue night dropped on the world. I have seen, from my window, the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.”

His fingertips started their motion again. You had to remember how to breathe before you could continue.

“Sometimes a piece of sun burned like a coin in my hand. I remembered you with my soul clenched in that sadness of mine that you know. What were you then? Who else was there? Saying what? Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly when I am sad and feel you are far away?”

You ventured a glance past the book and saw him staring intently at you, eyes searching, searching, and then finding. You weren’t sure what he had been looking for but by the look in his eyes, you assumed he had found it. Your stomach fluttered.

“The book fell that always closed at twilight and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet. Always, always you recede through the evenings, toward the twilight erasing statues.”

A prolonged silence marked the end of Pablo Neruda’s words flowing between you and his hands wandered past the heel of your palm, pushing back the leather jacket that marked you as one of his circle to start tracing shapes against your wrist. An involuntary shiver travelled down your back.

“There’s this one that always reminds me of you.” He whispered.

“Read it to me.”

He flicked through the pages gently, as if afraid that a sound too loud would break the balance you two had created with so much poetry heavy in the air. Finally he found the desired page and you caught a glimpse of the title: Sonnet XVII. It was your favourite.

“I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.” By the first line, his voice had punctured the air like a golden arrow. It was boyish and youthful, soft, powerful and undeniably magic. Everything with Pan seemed to be touched by fairy dust.

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved: in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.”

You leaned closer to hear his words and revel in the atmosphere he created and so did he, an ever-present desire for closeness deep in his heart. Soon enough you were tucked against his side, hand on his chest as his voice created vibrations that tickled your palm. His arm draped gently over your waist and there you sat, knee to knee, hip to hip, side to side, as you listened and he read.

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride. So I love you because I know no other way than this: where I do not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.” 

The air crackled as he closed the book and set it down. His eyes went to you immediately and stayed there, searching for that same thing he had been looking for just a moment ago and staying locked on that. You slowly realized that he had found it with more ease this time. You had let your feelings become too obvious and it was time to stop being a child. Pulling away quickly, something in the air broke and the world started to spin again.

“I have to go. I promised I’d meet Nat at the Lagoon for a few drinks.” You stood, posture wooden, pretending to brush at your clothing to avert your eyes.

He stood too and as you looked up, you were astonished to see that he hadn’t closed down and exhibited his defense mechanism of lashing out. There was a soft smile still on his lips.

“Okay.” It was a simple but genuine reply and before you could realize the significance of that, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your cheek, light enough to be the brush of a fairy’s wing. “Be safe, (Y/N).”

You could do nothing but smile as you nodded, pushing out of the screen door as your stomach tumbled like a clothes dryer.

Pablo Neruda would never be the same again.

“So you guys read poetry to each other…and still didn’t make out.” Daveed’s voice was disbelieving and you could see him cocking an eyebrow at you from where he sat.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, (Y/N), just jump his bones, it’s not that hard, I don’t see why-“

“Am I interrupting something?” Slightly grinned from the doorway, a messenger bag likely full of pages of writing draped over his shoulder.

“Nothing at all,” you replied, glad for another presence. “Come on in. Nibs was just being lecherous, as per usual.” 

“You know it,” Daveed grinned, shrugging shamelessly.

“Why am I not surprised?” Lin laughed, setting his stuff down before taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“Hey, don’t you put this all on me. (Y/N)’s the one who won’t take initiative.”

“Oh, sure, ‘take initiative’, is that what you call it now?” You sent Nibs a glare.

“Ah. Are we talking about the sensitive subject of Pan’s softening towards our newest member?” Lin added.

“See? See? Slightly sees it too!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” You gave a groan and fell sideways, head landing in Lin’s lap. He chuckled, reaching down to ruffle your hair.

“What? Trouble in paradise?”

“Lin, there is no paradise. Jesus, you guys just don’t get it.” You pouted.

Lin’s hands had began to smooth over your hair gently, not unlike a caring sibling would to quell your stressing fears. “(Y/N), reading poetry with Pan is pretty much as intimate as anyone has ever gotten with him. Ever.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” You groaned, about to huff but soothed by Lin’s touch against your hair.

“Sure. How about the fact that Slightly’s hair makes him look like one of the founding fathers?” Daveed grinned.

Wordlessly, Lin reached for a pillow and whipped it at him as you laughed, unable to stop your giggles.

“Fuck you, man. I like it long.”

“Totally. John Adams could only wish.”

Lin flipped him off with a huff. “Shut up. Besides, if I was any one of the founding fathers, it would be Washington, the guy was a badass. Do you guys have any idea what he-“

“No, we don’t, and we don’t want to.” Nibs interrupted, rolling his eyes.

As you giggled, Lin’s hand still tugging through your hair, a movement out of the corner of your eye pulled your attention.

Anthony swept through the door, a grin already in place on his mouth but it faltered as he caught sight of you, mid-laugh, looking quite comfortable on Slightly’s lap. What made it worse was that Lin had clearly made no attempt to curb that behavior and the sight of his hands brushing gently through your hair made Pan’s hands tighten into fists.

“Anthony, yo, what’s up man?” Daveed stood to reach out for a one-armed hug as a greeting. Pan went along with it half-heartedly.

“I…” he started, taking a breath before straightening. “I was just dropping by, wanted to see who was here. I should go.”

You frowned, sitting up from Lin’s lap as you fixed him with a curious look. “Why don’t you stay?”

“I’m just not feeling up to it, okay?” He threw back, a bit of bitterness leaking into his tone. You startled back, hurt and confused.

Daveed quirked an eyebrow, looking between Pan and you. “Oh…kay. Huh. Alright, well, see you around Anthony.”

Before Nibs could even finish his farewell, the screen door rattled closed and the room fell silent.

“What the hell was that all about?” You huffed.

“Oh, honey…” Daveed simpered, shaking his head. “You really don’t know?”

Lin sent you a sheepish smile. “I think he’s jealous. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make anything weird.”

“No, no it’s fine.” You breathed out, reassuring him with a half-hearted smile. “I should go explain.”

“Yeah, you should. Kiss him while you’re at it too, huh?” Daveed laughed.

You sent him a goodbye in the form of an affectionate middle finger before stepping out of the projection room, taking a breath of Neverland air that always seemed to be tinged with a sort of un-placeable sweetness.

Ahead you saw Anthony’s receding back, just about to enter the path that lead back to the highway. His pace was quick and you needed to jog to catch up but that started to become pointless too, so you called out.

“Anthony!” He didn’t turn at the sound of your voice but he did stop and that gave you enough time to make your way to his side. “Why did you leave like that? Is something wrong?”

The concern in your voice seemed to pull the tension from his shoulders and he deflated, looking down at the ground. “Just tell me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Did you read poetry with Slightly too?”

So he was jealous. A small smile turned the corners of your mouth up and you reached out to brush your hand against his, just barely, pinky against pinky. 

“No. No, I would never. What you saw back there was just friendliness. Nothing more.”

He took another breath then finally met your eyes and the relief that you found in his gaze both delighted and terrified you. Attachment could not be far behind and your heart quivered at the thought.

“Good.” He grinned. “Come on, I have something I wanted to show you, it’s what I came here to do.”

He reached and grasped your hand in his, a motion that seemed hauntingly familiar. It tingled an electric current through all your nerves, every limb of yours feeling a jolt of something you had never felt before. You followed happily, a part of you feeling terrifyingly satisfied with going with him anywhere he wished.

“Where are we going?” You questioned, eyebrow raised.

“It’s a surprise.” He shrugged, focusing forwards after a vague reply.

“Anthony, last time you showed me a surprise was-“

“Was when I showed you Neverland. And how did that work out?” He turned to you, raising an expectant eyebrow as a triumphant grin spread across his face.

“Okay, okay.” You resigned, pretending to grumble as a wave of curiosity and excitement rattled your stomach.

He took you down a path you had never seen before and the lack of familiarity delighted you. It was like taking a final plunge off a cliff’s edge or willingly throwing yourself into a dark room that you had no idea how to escape from. The possibilities became endless and soon there was nothing to concern yourself with other than Anthony’s presence and the forest around you. It wasn’t a long way to travel and after fifteen minutes of throwing banter back and forth, complete with a few Neruda references, you arrived at the mouth of a clearing. The grass seemed to thrive better in this area, becoming a healthier, deeper green. The trees seemed to take delight in the clear magic in the area, their branches reaching taller than any of the other pines in Neverland. Birds sang sweeter, the air was charged with a peacefulness that seemed to be balanced perfectly. Right in the centre of the clearing stood a huge stump, much too big for you and Anthony to wrap your arms around, even at full wingspan. It would have been a regular sight if it weren’t for the unmistakable glow that seemed to flow from every crevice and crack of the stump. Something inside was shining brightly and you weren’t exactly sure how the hell it could work but being a Lost Boy led you to leave logic far, far behind.

“I call this place Fairy Hollow,” Anthony smiled, voice returning to a shy softness.

“I can see why.” You sent him a smile, glancing to his face then back to the enchanting light that seemed to touch every surface in the clearing.

“Sometimes,” he whispered, eyes trained on you as if he couldn’t get them away. “You can hear music, if you listen really closely. It’s quiet.”

You nodded, following his advice immediately and nearly cutting off your own breath to keep the silence that suspended the clearing in a perfect sort of cradle. Frozen, the both of you waited with baited breath, not daring to speak a word. The only movement that could be visibly seen was the slow circles he traced into the back of your hand, your fingers still inevitably splayed into his.

You waited for a long time. Almost too long and you were considering giving up your temporary vow when suddenly you heard the first chords ring out, clear as day but whispered as if it the music was brought upon the wings of pixies. It was like the sound that came from music boxes with dancing ballerinas, or elegant carousels. The sound of a harp joined in. You turned to him, wonder glistening in your eyes and you found the exact same childish excitement in his gaze. Your grip tightened on his hand.

A string section seemed to join in and soon an entire symphony of melody was streaming from between the bark of what had just been an ordinary stump, the remainder of a tree. A choir started to sing and you didn’t wait to question such a phenomenon. It was only then that Anthony dared move again. He raised your clasped hands and stepped forward, his hand going to rest lightly on your waist. You, in turn, reached out and placed a cautious hand on his shoulder and soon enough he took a step back, leading you further into the clearing.

He bowed; you curtsied, unable to push away a smile. His hand reached out and you slid your palm into his, the warm of his touch creating a fire in your nerves. A smile from him reassured you that no previous experience was necessary. He stepped back, leading you and soon enough, you were engage in an airy waltz that felt like flying. Every step of his was planned out perfectly and with him leading you, nothing could go wrong. Each move was meaningful and as the music hit a crescendo he lifted you up, twirled you around with his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he set you down and you froze there, caught up endlessly in the way he looked at you, God he did that well. The clearing settled. The music faded.

“Anthony?” You could hardly dare to bring your voice above a whisper.

“Yes?” He grinned back. 

“Tell me,” you breathed. “What-What are we doing?”

He paused, cocking an eyebrow before looking down, remembering the way you had stepped, perfectly in time, at his side. “Flying.”

“No, I…I mean you and I.”

His face clouded over as you said that. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t even know myself,” you whispered, reaching out tentatively to brush a fingertip across his cheekbone. “But I think that if I were to tell you I love-“

“Love?” He spat the word, pulling away from you within a moment. Too soon, did he leave your arms, pulling with him the delightful warmth you had felt just moments ago. You froze, a rolling wave of hurt attacking your chest as you waited for his next words.

“I have never heard of it.” All at once, he had closed himself off. You were now dealing with Pan.

“I think you have, Anthony,” you pleaded, desperate for just a second longer of that sweet boy’s presence, the truth behind an enigma. “Perhaps for someone long ago, someone you felt for-“

“You don’t understand, (Y/N).” A tone of desperation leaked through the coldness of his voice. “Everyone leaves.”

Your heart gave a great ache. He had been hurt, and bad. “It doesn’t have to be that way. There is more than just-“

“More than just what? I showed you Neverland, I made you a Lost Boy, I took you on adventures. What more is there?” He stepped forward, despairing, pleading for an answer.

“You’re just a boy,” you whispered, realization washing over you. He was still so young.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anthony’s hands closed into fists, searching your eyes again but finding nothing.

“Anthony, I think…I think we need to grow up.” Even as you said the words they drilled holes in your heart. If only everything was as simple and innocent and magical as Anthony saw it.

“No,” he shook his head, creating further distance between the two of you. “No, you cannot make me.”

You plead with him silently, reaching out only to fall short as he flinched away. Slowly, your hands dropped and resignation fell like a rock into the pit of your stomach.

He stepped forward, gaze vulnerably soft for just a moment. “I want always to be a boy, and have fun.”

You closed your eyes and in a second saw so many possibilities: the adventures, the flying, and every bit of the world under the pad of your thumb. It was painful to watch.

“Then I can’t,” you shook your head, stepping toward the pathway. “I can’t be here.”

“Fine,” he threw back, arms crossed. “Leave, (Y/N), just like how everyone else does. You know what, while you’re at it, don’t bother coming back.”

You turned around, eyes bright with fury. “I will not be banished.” The statement took him by surprise but you ventured further. “Do whatever the hell you want with your Lost Boys, but there is a piece of Neverland that, whether you like it or not, belongs to me. You cannot keep me away from it.”

“Like hell I can’t. If you think-“ He was interrupted by Slightly’s voice.

“Pan!” His tone was despairing, searching. Something was wrong. Immediately, it took priority and your argument was left behind. “Pan!”

“What is it, Slightly?” Anthony replied, not even bothering to turn to his friend, fists clenched at his sides.

“Hook is here.” Lin was pale, out of breath and rattled. “He wants a fight.”

“How many of them?” Anthony asked, turning to face his comrade now.

“All of them. Pan, every single Pirate in town is here.” Slightly’s tone dipped with importance. “I think they want Neverland.”

[sunshinemiranda]

want something to give you a better idea of hook? want to know what james oleander accomplishes in a single night? want to know what he looks like? watch this PLEASE. 

[sunshinemiranda]

King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 3)

Summary: There are some new encounters with the other members of the Lost Boys, as well as an introduction to the local villainous gang. Noses are broken. 

Warnings: Quite a bit of swearing, blood and bruising mention. 

Words: 7,176 (can you tell that i’ve just stopped trying)

A/N: It’s really late where I am but I’m so excited for this?? What the heck. Anyway, just a little reminder that @alexanderhamllton and I have made matching aesthetics and playlists for the Lost Boys...coming soon to a tumblr near you...anyway, enjoy. Tags: @daveedsbra @myself-and-the-madman @clamilton @robotic-space @attackonmikaelson @pearltheartist @itsjaynebird

askbox | masterlist

The Pirates were a venomous crew of reptilian proportions, who didn’t play by the rules. They were of the privileged class, people who didn’t bother to think about their repercussions or the damage caused. Boredom is their motivation. Lives where everything is given to you, where money is not an issue, are lives that are awfully mundane. With a craving for possibility and the fire of resources at their fingertips, the Pirates seem to think themselves wonderfully immortal. They are the good ones gone wrong, a budding flower bitten at the stem by a poison with no antidote. In their blind want for something of substance, they chose to take as a method of getting what they want, but do not need. The local gas station cowers after a history of hold-ups. The department stores have lists of clients who are not allowed in; the Pirates are at the top.

They terrorize, gracelessly and unregretfully. Their constant search for distraction ended when they were met with a sort of resistance: the Lost Boys. There is an animosity between the two groups, older than the public can even remember. The Pirates all wear letterman’s jackets, not unlike the leather that graces the shoulders of Lost Boys. The back is illustrated with two symbols: a ship cutting through the waves, and a jolly roger flag. It is altogether a childish drawing, but it is somehow realized as something new and ultimately frightening on the backs of delinquents.

Jasmine Cephas Jones, known oddly as Smee is a cold, regal woman with a glint in her eyes that makes steel knives appear dull. She is second in command, but heaven help you if she ever decides to come after you. Do not reduce her to a second best of any sort. Dark hair, black as obsidian, is always tucked into a neat braid that curves over her shoulder. Jasmine is the subject of endless legend. It is said that she is the one pulling the strings behind the corrupt group, and her aloofness has done nothing to put those rumours to rest. Of all the whispers about her, the speculations that she carries a knife constantly, the fear that she has a history of arrest and delinquency, the one thing about Jasmine that cannot be argued as untrue, is the story of her manipulating touch. To tell that, however, we must address the leader first.

Hook, or James Oleander, is head of The Pirates. His notorious nickname stems from the silver hook that dangles from a chain around his neck. It seems to be important to him, but no one is privy to the real meaning. James is perpetually the antagonist to Pan and all that he stands for. The two are oddly designed to be the other’s specific problem; one cannot exist while the other survives. All Hook is built up to be depends on Pan. Pan defines Hook with his very existence. James cannot ever forget his obsession and perpetual concern with establishing himself over the Lost Boys. Golden hair constantly combed to perfection, James even appears as the visual opposite of Pan. One is dark, kissed by the night, with curled ringlets and constellations made of freckles. The other is gleaming, almost painfully, with thin, straight hair and a pale, ghost-like build. It is difficult to judge James based on fact. The entire town perpetuates rumours and speculations, but it is safe to say that the only person who knows Hook past every layer of his dark deeds is Pan.

And thus, we have the villains to our story. We have already established our Lost Boys. That gang of unlikely heroes and contradictorily beautiful villains must clash, at some point, because that’s how the story goes, right? And then a happy ending. It’s just a matter of time.

Tink had started sitting with you at lunch. It wasn’t exactly clear why, but ever since your short conversation at the outskirts of the deserted drive-in, she had sidled in next to Nat, without food, and stayed there all lunch period without an explanation.

“So, is she like, our friend now?” Nat mumbled around a mouthful of cafeteria fries.

It was the start of lunch, and Pippa hadn’t arrived yet. You pushed at your sandwich, a little put off already. School food wasn’t ideal. It was barely food.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, resting your chin in your hand.

“Man, I hope so. She’s badass. She’d probably beat Pan up for the shit he pulled with you.”

The mention of his name made a bad taste find it’s way into your mouth and you visibly grimaced, pushing your sandwich to the side in official abandonment. Before you could reply with something scathing about the boy, the scent of cigarettes and daisies entered the vicinity and Tink slid in next to you, scooping up your sandwich as she sat down and taking a bite, all in one smooth action.

“Not probably. I would.” Pippa grinned, glancing at you with a nonchalant shrug.

You shot her a smile, unbothered by your newfound lack of a sandwich. Tink didn’t bring lunches. It was possible she didn’t eat until the end of the school day, and this was good for her.

“You and me both, girl.” Nat huffed, making a show of cracking her knuckles.

“Pan’s different,” Pippa shrugged, mouth full of sandwich. “It was his way of showing that he cared for (Y/N).”

“He doesn’t care about me,” you stated, voice hardened. “Even if he did, that’s a real shitty way to show it. I’m done with that. I refuse to keep embarrassing myself.”

A silent look passed between Nat and Tink. A moment passed, then they both stood up, delivering the most enthusiastic standing ovation you’d ever seen. A half-smile on your face, you reached to grab both their sleeves and tugged them back into their seats.

“Bravo,” Nat laughed. “It’s about goddamn time.”

“I agree.” Tink’s eyes were twinkling, and despite your attempt to remain standoffish, you laughed anyway.

“I just wish there was somewhere I could get away from it all.” You hummed, reaching over to steal a fry from Nat. “I need some peace and quiet to finish some homework, think things over, just get distracted.”

Tink raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. “You already have somewhere.”

“And where would that be?”

“Neverland.”

Rolling your eyes, you sighed out a scoff. “Are you kidding me? That’s like his freaking home. Why would I go there to avoid him?”

“Oh, get over it. Pan barely ever actually comes to Neverland. He’s always off being all broody and lonely. Neverland is the home of the Lost Boys. Pan isn’t part of us. It’s a great place to go to when you need to clear your head, I swear.”

Biting your lip, you sat back to weigh the options. Avoiding Pan and all that he touched could only last so long; the boy’s touch was everywhere, practically palpable. If there was any chance that you could slip into Neverland and just have ten minutes to decompress without his presence, you had to take it.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll meet you in the parking lot at the bell. Nat, you wanna come?”

She shook her head, throwing the rest of her fries in her mouth. “Nah, I got work to do. Pippa, you promise me that (Y/N) comes back less pouty and depressed, okay?”

Tink smiled. “Promise.”

Neverland was just how you had remembered it. It was perpetually at rest, and yet poised for action. It was a place settled on an “in between”, something that existed in vivid colour and yet disappeared when you grasped too hard. The sky was clear as Tink and you trekked down the bushy path toward the drive-in, and within the space of five minutes, the tension that had stuck to your ribcage for days seemed to dissipate.

Pippa led the way towards the projection room, and the moment she opened it, a head of long dark hair pulled into a badly made bun caught your eye. So it seemed you weren’t alone.

“For the last time,” Slightly sighed, not even bothering to look up from the notebook he was furiously filling with words. “I’m not going to test drive your car, Curly, it doesn’t have brakes.”

“Where’s the fun in that, Lin?” Pippa grinned, and at the sound of his name, he looked up, eyes a bit wide.

“Oh, hi Tink.” He caught a glimpse of you behind her, and raised an eyebrow. “And���company.”

“This is (Y/N).” Tink gestured at you lazily before flopping onto the couch with a contented sigh.

“I remember,” Lin murmured, eyes assessing you with a certain guarded look. “You’re Pan’s (Y/N), right?”

“If there’s anything I’m not, it’s that. He doesn’t own me.” You snapped, hands curling into fists.

He visibly cringed, nodding as he looked down at his messy notes. “Right. Sorry, that wasn’t what I meant.” He stood, reaching out to offer you his hand. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced, at least properly. I’m Slightly.”

Warily, you shook his hand. “The same Slightly who blocked my exit from last time?”

He chuckled nervously, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. Sorry, I just…sorry.”

“He has Spontaneous Asshole Syndrome.” Tink quipped from the couch, grinning. “Not unlike our dear, dear Pan himself.”

Slightly rolled his eyes, turning around so he could flip her off with a good-natured grin. “I just…I try to be cool around people I respect. It can make for some bad choices, but any friend of Tink’s is a friend of mine.”

“It’s fine,” you chuckled, tapping at Tink’s legs so you could get some room to sit down on the couch.

“What brings you to our humble drive-in?” He smiled, pushing his notebook away and propping his legs up on the wooden chair adjacent to his own seat.

“Just…trying to find a place to think clearly.” You murmured, letting out a long breath.

“Neverland’s the perfect place for that. I’m always the most productive in this projection room.”

“Really? And what are you working on?”

“I write.”

“Write what?”

“A bit of everything,” he smiled, looking down as he flipped through pages and pages of words. “Poetry, couple songs…they make me feel at ease.”

“That’s really cool.” You smiled, a flow of conversation making you feel as if Neverland was soon becoming a place to belong too. A warmth opened in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah, anyway,” Tink started, reaching over to give Lin’s leg a poke. “Where are the rest of the boys?”

“Curly’s at the mechanic shop on shift, Tootles is studying, as always, the Twins are…no one ever knows where they are, and I think Nibs is on a date?”

“God, another poor female submitted to an entire meal with Nibs. True torture.” Tink groaned.

With a grin, you stood, looking down briefly to zip up your jacket against the fall cold outside. “I should go. Thanks for bringing me, Pippa. And thanks for not being a spontaneous asshole, Slightly.”

Tink sent you a thumbs up, and Lin grinned. “Come back anytime. It’ll be a better opportunity for me to redeem myself.”

“I just might.” You smiled, and by the time you left, all remnants of misery that had been circulating in your veins had all but disappeared.

The next time you went to Neverland, you had the privilege to meet Tootles. It crossed your mind that most of what you knew about the Lost Boys was found in whispers from the grapevine. Other than Tink and Pan, you had no connection or interaction with the rest of the group.

Binder in hand and homework on your mind, you pushed through the screen door and encountered Oak, sitting at the table in a mess of papers and binders. It was infinite. Three separate textbooks lay open on the table, marked excessively with post-it notes. A handful of different pens, highlighters and markers were distributed haphazardly around the table, and Oak already had two tucked behind one ear and a third perched between his teeth. He looked up with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t meant to…I’ll-I’ll go, sorry.” You backpedaled as quickly as possible, but before you could hurry away, he called out.

“Wait,” he mumbled around the pen, reaching up to take it from his mouth. “It’s fine, you can stay.”  

Breathing out, you nodded and, albeit nervously, sat down across from him at the table and spread out your own work. Hastily, he reached out and bulldozed you some room, sweeping away his papers.

“What brings you to Neverland, (Y/N)?” He said.

“You know my name?” Your eyes widened at his liberal mention.

“Well, you’re Pippa’s friend, aren’t you? And, of course, Pan has mentioned you.” His voice grew careful and a warm feeling of gratitude at his respectful way to know boundaries washed over you.

“Right. Yes. I was just looking for a quiet place to do my homework.” You let out a nervous laugh, drumming your pencil against the blank paper in front of you.

“This place is perfect for that.” He leaned forward, face open and serious, with just a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What are you working on?”

“Biology essay about vaccinations. You?”

“AP Law is kicking my ass. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” He shrugged, gesturing to the textbooks in front of them.

“AP Law?” You repeated incredulously. “Damn, I’ve heard that class is hell on earth.”

“Oh, it is.” He smiled for the first time, and it was a very calming, fitting look. “However, it’s obligatory for my future career.”

“And what would that be?”

“A degree in law and criminology at Florida State University.”

His confidence and comfortable way with vulnerability astounded you, and you found yourself leaning in to listen to him speak. Oak’s voice had a heavy, logical side that seemed to quell all fears that had ever existed in any part of your brain. It was a therapeutic sound.

“You’ll get it.” You murmured, sending him a quick smile as you opened your textbook to get to work. “I know you will.”

“Thank you, (Y/N).” His voice was all courtesy and manners, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw another small smile find a place on his face as he returned to his work.

Up until this point, the only contact you had had with Nibs was an unpleasant encounter that lasted all of two seconds under low blue lights as he was tugged away from kissing your best friend. The added comment you had made about him disgusting you didn’t make for a smooth segue into any interaction.

After a busy day of exams, you had slipped away from the stream of people and drove down the highway to find the turn off to a pathway you had become quite acquainted with. The air was purer in Neverland, it seemed, as if it had been imbued with a sort of magic.

At the sight of Daveed lounging on the couch watching the Twins blow smoke rings, you almost balked, but a tenacious feeling of entitlement to be in this space too rose up and you stalked through the doorway and plunked down in one of the wooden chairs, refusing to look at him.

“Well, well! It’s-“ Daveed was grinning, already moving to sit up when the Twins interrupted.

“(Y/N).” They said it in perfect unison.

“Guys, I was going to say that. We don’t have to go full-out Disney villain plus corrupt sidekicks.” Nibs rolled his eyes and turned back to you, eyes shining. “What brings a lovely girl like you to our humble shack?”

“Well, first of all, I had hoped I would be able to avoid you. And secondly, nothing in particular.” You replied, setting your shoulders back as you picked, disinterestedly, at your cracking nail polish.

“I can’t believe you still hate me.” He sighed, a visible pout coming to his face. “All I did was talk up your friend, Pan is the one you should be mad a-“

“Daveed.” Leslie spoke up, his voice soft and commanding. “Don’t be tasteless.”

“Don’t be an asshole is really what he means.” Jordan shrugs, sitting down next to you.

Nibs rolled his eyes, and lay back down on the couch, reverting back to his moody posture in a second. Jordan tapped the ashes off his cigarette and sent you a half smile.

“Don’t mind him. It’s nice to have another girl in here besides Tink. She’s great and everything, but half the time-“

“I feel like she might kick my ass any minute.” Leslie finished for his brother, grinning as he took the seat across from yours.

You laughed, relaxing a bit as the atmosphere warmed. “It’s fine. Pippa is a firecracker, I agree. It’s hard not to love her, though.”

“Oh, absolutely.” They both chimed, giving an approving nod.

“Can you guys please stop the talking at the same time? You have been told repeatedly that it’s pretty fucking creepy.” Daveed snapped from his end of the room.

Rolling his eyes, Jordan stood. “Oh, suck it up, crybaby. We’re leaving anyway.” 

“Nice to meet you again, (Y/N).” Leslie smiled, pulling his leather jacket on, cigarette still perched at his lips. “I hope Daveed doesn’t put you off Neverland. Come back whenever you like.”

With that, they swept out the door, closing it with a satisfying click, and yet, ultimately, leaving you alone with your least favourite of the group. Silence ruled the room, the kind that made you want to fidget and fill the space with un-necessary babble.

“Look, Nibs, it’s-“

“I’m sorry.”

You stopped short at that and turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief. His arm was thrown over his face, hiding his expression, but the sincerity in those two words had struck a chord in you that was still ringing loudly.

“What did you say?” You whispered, unconvinced that you had heard him correctly.

“I said I’m sorry.” He sighed, moving so he could sit up and occupying his gaze by looking down to light a cigarette. “I shouldn’t have tried to use Pan against you, it was a dick move.”

A pause flowed, and after a moment, you smiled, something you never thought you’d do in his presence. “It’s okay.”

“I’m also sorry for…you know, making out with your friend, and all that. Though I don’t regret it, she’s so ho-“

“Daveed, you’re ruining the moment.”

“Okay, sorry.” He chuckled, then paused, tilting his head as he looked at you, letting a breath of smoke out.

“What?” You challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing. It’s just…that’s the first time you called me by my real name.” He grinned and stood, reaching for his leather jacket. “Looks like you’re getting real comfortable with the Lost Boys, (Y/N).”

“Is that a bad thing?” You questioned, a little miffed by the statement.

“Not at all,” he smiled, half way out the door. “I think you’d fit in quite nicely.”

His words echoed in your head for a week.

Curly is not a social kind of person. He spends time with cars because those are easy; the parts fit together, there are instruction manuals, nothing is unexpected. With social encounters, none of these things exist. He leans on Slightly for that exact reason. Lin thrives on being around other people. Chris does not.

You poked your head into the projection room after a busy day at work, feet aching and searching for some respite. Slightly caught sight of you immediately, but there was someone else sitting at the table, turned away from you.

“(Y/N)! Come in, this place is always open.” He beckoned you forward, smiling.

“Hey, sorry to intrude, I didn’t know you guys would be here.” You offered a smile of your own, moving to sit on the couch.

“Oh, it’s fine. Have you met Chris? I don’t know, probably.” Lin shrugged, moving to return to his notebook scribblings.

“Hi,” you reached out and offered your hand for Chris to shake but he only stared at you, moving to offer you nothing but a nod of recognition.

“Anyway, Slightly, so we’ve got this Shelby 427 Cobra engine in the shop, right? And we’re going to see if we can rebuild-“

Refusing to be ignored, you cut in mercilessly against his words. “The Cobra, or the Cobra Super Snake?”

He froze and turned to you, frowning as he took a thoughtful drag of his cigarette. “Just a Cobra. Made in-“

“1966, yeah, I know.”

He paused momentarily, and you registered the delighted look on Slightly’s face out of the corner of your eye. “Didn’t know you liked cars.”

“I don’t, but I have an aunt who does. She taught me everything I know.” Letting out a breath, you stood. “I should leave you guys to it, this is your space after all. See you.”

Just before you could reach for the doorknob, Chris called your name. He had stood from his chair and he approached, hand outstretched. “I think I owe you a handshake.”

A half smile appeared on your face and you reached out, shaking his hand, a triumphant pride blooming in your chest. “Nice to meet you, Curly.”

“See you around, (Y/N).” He gave you a nod, which was more physicality than Chris ever exhibited around the general public over a week.

You left feeling, more than ever, like you belonged.

It wasn’t until a week later that you witnessed the Lost Boys as a group. The sun was just setting as you walked underneath the steel sign, a plethora of colours blooming from behind the wall of pines. Oranges and pinks calmed the stress from that day and you found yourself, once again, at ease in Neverland.

Tink, Tootles and Slightly were already in the projection room when you entered. There was intensity in their conversation that suggested paramount importance, but the moment they saw you, all words stopped.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Slightly managed a smile but it wavered.

“Hey,” you moved forward, a little warily. “What’s going on, guys?”

“Oh nothing, it’s-“

“Lin.” Oak’s voice stopped him with a word. “It’s fine, we can tell her.”

“Tell me what?” Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“(Y/N), I’ve told you of my plan to go to FSU and study law.” Oak started, beckoning you with an open hand as he sat down at the table. You took a seat adjacent to his.

“Yeah.”

“Well…I was planning on finding my way there through a scholarship that would pay for everything I could ever need; textbooks, food, housing.”

“Yeah, sounds great.”

“It does. But I didn’t get it.”

The entire room tensed at that, gauging your reaction in looks, silent prayers; it was a hundred different feelings mixed into a single mess. You let out a long breath, hands squeezing into tight fists.

“Oak, I am so sorry.” You reached out and placed your hand on his, looking up with pleading eyes. “You were born for that. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“That makes two of us, girl,” Tink huffed, a breath of smoke drifting from her lips. “It’s bullshit.”

Oak’s lips tilted into a small smile. It was a pleasing sight to see, he’d been curled over in stress for too long. “Thank you both, but this is just how it has to be. It was a long shot already, I can’t-“

“No.” You interrupted him, standing abruptly from the couch. “I can’t accept that, Oak. You deserve this more than any one of their students. We’re getting you to that goddamn university, okay?”

“I want him there more than anyone, honest to God,” Slightly added, hands raised in explanation. “But how?”

You bit your lip, mind working into a flurry of ideas and possibilities. “We’ll make money.”

“Off what?” Tink quipped. “I don’t know how many of you guys would be into pole-dancing as a side job.”

“We’ll use Neverland.” You murmured, eyes widening as a concrete idea started to take place in your mind. “This place is a drive-in, right?”

“A deserted drive-in, yeah.” Slightly said.

“It doesn’t have to be. Let’s revive it. We’ll show movies, sell concession. You guys know how to bake; there are old movies everywhere. This projection room has some useful equipment.”

“This could actually work,” Oak mumbled disbelievingly, standing as he glanced around the room. “This could actually work. I have some money saved up. I can apply for grants. This can work, you guys, holy shit.”

The screen door rattled and lo and behold, the golden feeling of triumph settling into your heart was suddenly stamped out in a second as Pan made his way, casual as anything, into the room, followed by Curly, Nibs and the Twins.

“Yo, guys, what are you all serious abou-“ He choked on his words the moment he realized you were in the vicinity. His vulnerable look of disbelief didn’t last long; it quickly converted to distaste. “What is she doing here?”

An anger washed over you, the blood roaring in your ears as you opened your mouth to just rip him apart but you were too slow; Tink got there first.

“Oh, get the fuck over it, Pan. (Y/N) knows where Neverland is, something that was, I may remind you, an idea you had. Suck it up, she comes here now.” She said this all from her lazy position on the couch and accompanied it with a scathing roll of her eyes.

A fast grin spread across your face and you mouthed a quiet thank you at her from your end of the room. She winked.

“Yeah, (Y/N)’s cool.” Slightly smiled, giving you a nudge with his elbow. “You guys wanna hear our plan to get Tootles to college, or what?”

“Always,” Nibs grinned, following the Twins to the table to find seats.

Before Oak could outline the new plan, a clatter of the door announced that Pan had disappeared just as fast as he had arrived. You stared at the door, teeth on edge as the spark of anger smoldered in your veins, but turned away and addressed the group.

“First line of thought: Neverland is making a comeback. Second line of thought: Casablanca is our first option.”

Neverland needed some intense cleaning up. It was the product of an entire weekend, and every one had their own part. At least, everyone but Pan. He hadn’t appeared yet, and, according to the Lost Boys, avoided Neverland as much as possible now that he knew you were there. It seemed you weren’t the only one wanting a place to get away.

“If I have to pick up one more pile of pinecones, I’m shoving them all down Nibs’ throat.” Tink groaned, flopping onto the couch during a break you had called.

“Kinky,” Slightly snickered, taking a swig from a cold bottle of water from the tiny fridge.

Nibs stuck out his tongue, all childish, as the rest of the group laughed. The sound died down as the screen door creaked open and a familiar head of curls peeked through, shyer than before.

“Pan.” Oak spoke up, after a moment of silence. “Nice to see you.”

“I…I thought I’d help.” He attempted a smile, glancing around the room.

 “Thank you.” Oak smiled, reaching over to pull him into a one-armed hug of sorts. “Let’s get on this.”

As Nibs, Curly and the Twins cleared the yard of unwanted weeds and car parts, you had been assigned to sweep all remaining dust out of the projection room and check out the equipment. By some divine intervention, set out to ruin every good thing in your life, Pan had been assigned the same task. The silence was so loud it almost deafened you.

“(Y/N), I-“

“Don’t, Pan. Just don’t.” You breathed out, shaking your head as you concentrated on mopping the creaky wooden boards.

He paused at that, looking down at his hands that had just been sweeping dust off the shelves. “I want to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Just leave it. I get it, you’re Pan. It wasn’t ever supposed to work out.”

A breath pulled from his chest and he paused before speaking. “You used to call me Anthony.”

You stopped at that, the mop handle stilling in your hands as you sighed. “Yeah. I used to do a lot of things.”

He didn’t say anything else.

The day was bleeding into star-perforated night as you finished up. The group of nine was gathered in a group, some turning in a slow, awed circle as they took a look at a new, reborn Neverland in all its revived glory.

“We did it.” Oak breathed, a huge grin filled with pride gleaming on his face.

“Yeah. We did.” You laughed. “Our date is set for next Saturday night. There are some posters up already, we just need to get on filling our concession menu. Let’s get on that. Oh, and Nibs?”

“What?” He turned, raising an eyebrow.

“Weed brownies don’t count.” You grinned, propping your hands on your hips.

“Well, fuck! There goes my only idea.” He returned the grin.

“Thanks for helping out, (Y/N).” Oak smiled.

“Oh, of course. Good luck on Saturday.” You stepped backwards, starting to get some headway on the path back to the highway.

“Wait, are you not coming?” Slightly frowned, and you could see Pan turn to face you at his words.

“Well, I…I wasn’t sure if it would be…like, weird? I don’t really-“

“(Y/N), Neverland is your place too.” Oak offered you a grin.

“Yeah,” Curly mumbled.

“You’re as much of a Lost Boy as we are.” Tink nodded.

Her statement made an immortal feeling of delight rise up in your chest, and all of a sudden you were grinning harder than you ever had in your life.

“Holy shit. I love you guys.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nibs chuckled. “Get out of here.”

Casablanca seemed a million years away, and even in your excitement to see Humphrey Boggart delivering those iconic lines, Pan’s attempts to smooth things over stayed with you just as long. It seemed you were never far enough from that boy to ever forget about him.

Casablanca went well. So did The Maltese Falcon. It wasn’t until you decided to show Rebel With a Cause that things truly, completely went to shit. It could have been the influence of an insurgent James Dean in the role of a rebellious teen, but Neverland became the backdrop for a split lip, a couple bruised knuckles and a bloody nose.

The idea had been going better than ever. People’s newfound love for anything vintage fit in well with the drive-in location and crowds of people were arriving every night to find an excuse to make out with someone in the back of a truck, or just to bring a couple friends to witness Mary Astor as an iconic femme fatale. Rebel With a Cause was just entering it’s opening sequence when the purr of motorcycles caught your ear and Oak stood up abruptly, searching to find Pan’s gaze and keep it.

He only uttered one word. “Pirates.”

Immediately, Anthony sprang from his seat, Nibs, Curly, and Tink following him without hesitation.

“Pirates? What the hell does that mean?” You turned to Jordan and Leslie for an explanation.

They paused for a moment, sharing a look before turning to address you. “You better come and see.” Jordan beckoned you out the door of the projection room.

It was dark out and the hushed murmur of teenagers cuddled into blankets and entwined with their dates dissipated easily in between the pines. Everything seemed to be at peace. Through the dark, you could make out Pan’s form as he led the way to the pathway. Several figures were approaching to meet them. The Twins at your side, you warily made your way to join the group. Oak sent you a silent, but comforting look. The air tingled with crackling electricity; everyone was on edge.

As you approached, Pan caught a glance of you out of the corner of his eye and instantly stepped just an edge closer in front of you, not completely obstructing your vision but making it a clear, protective stance.

A boy approached, shaking his blonde, windswept hair back into a neat style. He had a sly grin that was more unsettling than clever. There was a glint in his blue eyes that made your heart churn uncomfortably.  He was dangerous. That much was clear.

“Pan!” The boy laughed, and the sound sent a chilling shiver down your spine. It was so hollow. “Good to see you again, buddy.”

“Hook.” Anthony replied, but there was not even an attempt at civility in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I heard that you were planning on sending your dear old Poverty King here, off to college! Jasmine mentioned the fundraiser, blah, blah, long story short, I came to visit!” His grin only grew and he propped his hands on his hips.

The female who had been hovering at his shoulder came forward, and her beauty astounded you. She had dark hair braided together, and it settled nicely against her shoulder. Her eyes, however, were void of any emotion. She was just as cold as this Hook character, if not more.

“You didn’t even invite us,” she pouted, leaning her head against Hook’s shoulder.

Slightly stepped forward, rolling his eyes. “We had no reason to, you were unwanted, Smee. God, I can’t actually say your name without laughing. Where the fuck do you get something like-“

“What Slightly means to say,” Oak cut in, shooting him a glance. “Is that what we’re doing is up to us. We’d appreciate it if this ended right here and now.”

Hook pouted, stepping forward. “That’s not nice, my dear, broke, friend. No need to be unsociable now.”

Pan made his way forward from the group, abandoning his protective stance in front of you. The leaders of both groups met in the middle. “James, my patience is running out. I can only say “please” so many times before it evolves into a simple, “fuck you”.”

Hook narrowed his eyes, assessing his options. “Yeah? Well I don’t play nice.” As he took note of your presence, his gaze transferred almost immediately, away from Anthony. “Oh, and who do we have here?”

He moved forward, coming dangerously close as his eyes raked, unashamedly, up and down your body. The distance between you was closing, and fast, until Tink appeared at your side.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” She murmured. Her voice was soft but it trembled with fury. You felt a swell of gratitude for her.

“Hey, I’m just acquainting myself with this…lovely thing.” He smiled, an act that looked unnatural on his gaunt face. Just as his hand brushed against your cheek, a blurred movement came out of nowhere, and suddenly James was on the ground. You stumbled backward, heart tumbling in your chest.

“You do not fucking touch her, ever again.” Anthony stepped forward, leaning over James’ crumpled body. “Hear me? Not ever, you fucking-“ He was halfway through a kick when Hook hurled himself forward and landed a punch that made you cringe. As Anthony wound up to punch him again, you hurried towards him, reaching a hand out to grasp his shoulder and stabilize him.

“Anthony,” you breathed, turning to face him, eyes imploring with every ounce of energy you had. His nose was bleeding, bad. “Please, don’t. He’s not worth it.”

James’ voice made you turn. “Listen, babe, I know you’re trying to help and everything, but maybe just let the men settle this, yeah?”

Jaw clenching, you turned to him with a sweet smile. “Oh, anything for you. Just one thing.” You opened your palm and jabbed up, the heel of your hand crushing his nose up with a satisfying sound. He tumbled backward, only stopping when Jasmine hurried to help him up.

A pause echoed in the space. Every eye in the place was turned to you. Then, Tink spoke.

“(Y/N), that was fucking awesome, holy shit!” She let out a disbelieving laugh.

In your moment of glory, you forgot the presence of the Pirates, and it wasn’t until the sound of Curly punching someone made you realize the situation, that you actually turned to see what was happening.

There was movement everywhere. Curly had managed to grab one of Hook’s men and they were in a merciless grapple. Every time the Pirate seemed to get the advantage, Slightly was there to even out the odds with a vicious uppercut. Pan seemed to be right in the centre of it, strands of hair floating about his angelic face, blood bright red in the darkness, every one of his movements the epitome of beautiful. You dimly registered that Jordan was shaking you, imploring you to get the attention of the group. Oak was busy trying to shake off another one of Hook’s men, who Tink had swarmed to annihilate. Everything was happening at once.

“Stop,” you mumbled, but your voice disappeared in the endless sounds. “Stop, you guys…stop!”

The sharpness of your voice made an impact, and the sound echoed all the way down the path. The fighting slowed to a stop and you stepped forward, heading right into the middle of the fray to address Hook and Pan.

“This ends now. Hook, this is our home. You do not have the right to enter and do as you please. Get the fuck out right now, before I break your nose again, I swear to God.” Your voice was strong and level.

James’ jaw clenched in frustration, but he pushed away from Pan and beckoned the rest of his men with an open palm. Within the space of three minutes, they were halfway back down the path, heading back to their motorcycles.

All of the Lost Boys seemed to release a breath, all at the same time. You took a look around, assessing. Curly had a split lip. Anthony’s nose was still bleeding. Slightly’s knuckles were black and blue. And you had never seen anything more beautiful.

A slow but bright smile came to your face. “I hope that’s the last time we ever see them again.”

All tension seemed to bleed from the group in an instant. It started with Slightly’s laughter, then the Twins, then Oak, and pretty soon, everyone was laughing. It felt cathartic, like this was what people meant by high school being the best years of your life. It was the people that made it so good.

“We should probably get back to James Dean,” Oak grinned.

“Yeah,” Leslie agreed, chuckling. “Let’s go.”

You stayed back, checking on members of the group who had gotten injured, but you were met mostly with triumphant smiles. The Lost Boys were, after all, adrenaline seekers of sorts, and this was a perfect fix.

Though you had tried to avoid Anthony for as long as possible, you fell into step beside him, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“Are you okay?”  

“M’fine.” He was looking down, words muffled.

“No. Anthony, you’re not. Hey, wait up. Look at me.” You reached a hand out to stop his steps and turned him to face you.

The blood hadn’t quite stopped, and it looked quite bad. You huffed, a little miffed at his stubbornness, and reached into your pocket to receive a cloth from the projection room. As you pressed it to his nose, an attempt to stop the bleeding, you noticed a grin on his face.

“What are you smiling about?” You raised a cryptic eyebrow.

“You called me Anthony again.” He chuckled a bit, trying hard not to jostle you with the movement.

His words made you stop, and you bit down on your chapped lips, deep in thought.

“Yeah.”

“(Y/N).”

“Mhm?”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed the words out.

His words meant much more than the surface suggested. It was an apology for everything: the fight, the lies, and the heartbreak. In an instant, you recognized the soft side of the boy you were very quickly coming to care for.  

“It’s okay.” You attempted a smile, and it was smile, but still there.

He stared down at you, a sort of awe opening in his expression as you smiled up at him. Reaching up, he cradled your jaw with hands still sore from throwing punches, a thumb brushing against your cheek. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing briefly as two conflicting sides of thought warred viciously in your mind.

All indulgence had to end at some point. Quickly, you pulled away, taking a deep breath.

“We should catch up with the others.”

Surprisingly, the rest of the night went along without a hitch. After the movie ended, the rest of the group stayed for an extra hour, spending the time joking around and, slowly but surely, cleaning up the projection room and the lot. At this point, night had fallen completely, but the golden light spilling from the three thrift store lamps in the shack seemed just right. Pan had left early, mumbling something about being busy. No one had believed it, but then again, no one had questioned it.

“I am exhausted,” you breathed out, collapsing back onto the couch.

“Breaking someone’s nose’ll do that,” Nibs grinned.

Tink let out a laugh, cigarette ember glowing in the dusky light. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

You cringed. “It was bad, wasn’t it.”

“Badass, yeah,” Slightly added, sending you a thumbs up from the side of the room.

Laughing, you heaved yourself off the couch and headed toward the door. “Badass or not, I gotta get some sleep. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Wait a minute, (Y/N),” Oak called out, turned to fish in his backpack for something. “We have a present for you, since this was all your idea.”

You stopped, eyes widening. “Oak, it was nothing, really, I-“

“We insist.” Slightly grinned.

As Oak stood, you recognized the colour and texture of the fabric in his hands, even from the opposite side of the room. It was a leather jacket, just like all of theirs, but it was more than that. It was a symbol. Oak tossed it to you with a grin.

“Your initiation is complete. You deserve that.” He crossed his arms, cracking his knuckles absent-mindedly.

“I…thank you.” You murmured, running your fingertips over the jacket.

“Don’t thank us,” Tink turned to you with a twinkle in your eyes. “It was Pan’s idea.”

It seemed that that boy was always taking you by surprise. With a delighted laugh, you smiled. “I’ll wear it with pride. For now, though, I really do have to go.”

Curly was the one who spoke up. It was such a rare occurrence that everyone turned to witness his words.

“Welcome to the Lost Boys, (Y/N).”

You sent him a smile from the doorway. “It’s an honour.”

[sunshinemiranda]

When you finish the Lost Boys series, will you do other stories with the other lost boys? Like for example Curly x reader ,Tink x reader etc? They can be oneshots too, but if you don't want to I totally understand!

oh my gosh, love, you absolutely READ my mind. i was thinking of doing that, only if people were interested, of course, and i also considered a character study in freeform for at least the lost boys!! just short paragraphs without any xreader stuff, more like an exploration. but would you guys be interested in side inserts with other characters???

[sunshinemiranda]

aesthetics by @alexanderhamllton and playlists by @sunshinemiranda.

CHRIS “CURLY” JACKSON:

"chris is the most mature of the boys. however, that isn’t to say he pulls away from the fights. rumour has it that it takes him a single punch to knock a man’s front teeth out."

bloody knuckles, a playlist on 8tracks and spotify.

LIN “SLIGHTLY” MIRANDA: 

"the first of the characters on the sidewalk is a grinning lin-manuel, affectionately nicknamed slightly for his slim build and incredible talent at snatching wallets."

sleight of hand, a playlist on 8tracks and spotify.

[sunshinemiranda]

ok I know I'm late but I would love some fic about any of the KOLTB characters. that would be great tbh

fdsjfkbsdk REALLY??? i am so happy at the response i’m getting!!! thank u so much for reading and i promise to get on that!!

just a quick poll u guys, would u rather headcanons about:

curly

slightly

tootles

tink

nibs

i just wanna get an idea!!! (i might even make these headcanons before the next part of kotlb is out bc i really need inspo rn so PLEASE help a girl out

[sunshinemiranda]

I just imagined the Lost Boys as Borrowers and they're protective of the reader and hide in their pockets. ( I'm tired I fell asleep at 2)

THIS IS SO PURE. WOW. 

[sunshinemiranda]

YOU SHOULD TOTALLY DO THE READERS HEADCANNONS AND A READER AESTHETIC, LIKE THAT WOULD BE AMAZING AND THIS IS MY FAV SERIES (I'm talking about kotlb if you didn't know 😂😂)

ofkfd it makes me so happy that you think that way. as for an aesthetic, that’s @alexanderhamllton‘s wonderful talents you’ll need to ask for!! ren is an ANGEL. i am 100% willing to do the hc’s as well. 

[sunshinemiranda]

Hello love! I decided to carve out some time today and so some pic reading and so I was like "Yes of Course I can finally start KOTLB" and I haven't even finished part one yet, but I'm really loving it! The prelude (thats what I'm gonna call it idk) has this feel that reminds me of the part in a movie where the narrator is giving you info and the camera is zooming in on something and there's like snowfall and feels little magic. do you know what I mean? ok sorry I'm weird -linmanuclmiranda

i just SCREAMED. okay i love this because a) i’m a huge film dork and i imagined the HELL out of the sequence you described and loved it and b) ppl reading my fics makes my stomach do literal like cirque de soleil trapeze shit. ok. i am so happy u like it, oh my goodness??? i hadn’t imagined that scene w snow before and lemme tell u.,.,.it looks amazing in my head y’all. like. honestl.y i’m gonna die. the whole montage where the narrator gives u a lil bit of a description is the whole feel i was going for, thank u SO much. i love u. 

p.s @linmanuclmiranda is a blessing.

[sunshinemiranda]

So I'm late to the party but I just saw the KOTLB update and I haven't stopped screaming since???? Everything about it is so good??? And you are so good??? I am so excited!!!!!

FHKFSJFS. I LOVE YOU. ENDLESSLY.