#she appears in peter pan

[amberinn]

I'm like a scritter

If I were a pokemon my types would be

1. (most likely) bug type (small, and anxious, and antsy, and quirky, and powerless, weird, fun, exciting little guy)

2. electric type (quirky, weird, fun funfunfun!!! energeticed! happy! excited! blue and orange thundershocks nuzzle go nearby me, but also scared, anxious, that thing where if you touch me you get super zapped, because I don't control the way I let out little shocks of energy when im stressed)

3. fire type (firey, bit of an attitude, (angry, a bit too on the nose, some egoistic tendencies) likes a lot of cool shit, gets super excited, and generally (i think i still do that

..... oh....... oh i could cry tears of joy, I'm like a personal heater again aren't I?

take my hand, I'm going to warm you up, I'm so energetic and happy and excited my emotions SHOW by my body heat, I'm always warm, always starry eyed.)

4. fairy type (girlyyyyyyy i love the color pink :DDD but my favourite color is purple, and then red actually!!!! pink is third i think, really nice)

(I like girly stuff, and I like being a demigirl (but now especially im heavyyyyy into girly things!)

(I love clothes, I love make up I love baking I love !!!! :DDD like those songs like ummm..... coco & clair - pretty/that one korean song me and Ala Alice listen to a lot hehe!)

5. water type (vibes, also when I've had a dream I could use superpowers mine was hydro manipulation)

vibes assigned pokemon are:

Eevee (then Jolteon), Joltik, Galvantula (lowkey my initials. t....was meant to be pffth. also i do steal electricity a lot, and im a scritter. "get them to your cables and theyll steal electrici" aaayyyyy thats amberinn!! also this snail like pokemon from gen 1 omanyte methinks?)

for Alice it's

1. Fairy

2. Electric I think

assigning my best friend the autism episode nr 001

Also for Alice the pokemon I think of her as is Sylveon

[kerizaret]

Happy Birthday, Emu!! Always keep on dreaming big and working hard for what's dear to you ♡

[drferox]

One of the unexpected sides of parenting is that I’m slowly being exposed to media I wasn’t aware existed, and finding myself gradually intrigued by the lore and world building. Specifically I’m getting my head stuck on the lore of Pixie Hollow, with Tinkerbell and all the Disney Fairies.

They’re colourful, sweet, focused on lessons about friendship, and slowly answer questions about the world with each movie.

And there’s a bunch of questions that they never answer.

Like, we know a fairy is born when a child first laughs. And we get the idea that they ‘die’ when their child stops believing. But I don’t yet know what that ‘death’ looks like, whether they just fade away, or vanish, or just drop one day.

And most fairies look youthful, and most about the same age, which is a similar appearance to when they’re first spawned. Yet there are some fairies with a distinctly older appearance: Queen Clarion, the lords of the seasons, Fairy Mary and Fairy Gary.

At first I thought that if a fairy’s existence is tied to their spawning human believing in them, then surely their lifespan is similar to that of a human. After all, can’t really believe in fairies if you’re dead. But apparently Queen Clarion is 400 years old. Which brings up a few possibilities.

1. She’s the oldest and straight up lying because nobody can prove her wrong.

2. The elder fairies have spawned from children who believed and now have immortal/extended lifespans elsewhere, eg Peter Pan.

3. The children that spawned them died still believing in fairies, so now there’s never any disbelief to end their existence.

And I’m not sure which version seems more plausible here.

[chess-blackmyre]

OUAT Spot the Lie: Take Four

In order to keep things fair, the lie will be something that very much did NOT happen. There will be a few things I have to oversimplify for the sake of space (and comedy).

Have fun!

[little-jana]

"Hints to Love"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Valentine’s Day has never been anything special for you—until anonymous little surprises start appearing, each one more thoughtful than the last.

You weren’t expecting anything for Valentine’s Day.

Sure, some people in the BAU had secret admirers—Penelope always got a bouquet of roses from a mystery sender (though everyone knew it was Morgan), and JJ had Will. Even Emily had a history of unexpected romantic gestures.

But you? You’d never been the type to receive love notes or gifts.

Which was why you were so surprised to find a small envelope sitting on your desk that morning.

Frowning, you picked it up and turned it over in your hands. No name. Just a quote written in neat, careful script on the front:

"The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it." – J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Your lips parted slightly. You’d told someone—who?—once that you loved Peter Pan, that the whimsy and belief in the impossible had always spoken to you.

You opened the envelope, unfolding the small piece of paper inside.

Happy Valentine’s Day. Consider this the first of many. A hint: I admire the way you never stop believing in people.

Your heart gave an unexpected flutter.

Who…?

You glanced around the bullpen, but no one was looking at you. Everyone was going about their business as usual.

You tucked the note away in your desk, your mind already spinning.

---

The second gift appeared just after lunch.

When you returned to your desk, there was a single, perfectly wrapped package sitting atop your case files.

JJ walked by, smirking. “Looks like someone has an admirer.”

You rolled your eyes, but warmth crept up your neck as you peeled back the paper, revealing a book—The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.

Your breath caught.

You’d mentioned once—once—that it was one of your favorite novels.

Tucked inside the front cover was another note.

"Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." – Oscar Wilde

Beneath it, in the same careful handwriting:

A hint: You see the value in people when others see none.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you held the paper.

Who knew you this well?

---

By mid-afternoon, you were on high alert, watching for any sign of your mystery admirer.

When Garcia waltzed over and dropped a tiny box onto your desk, she wiggled her eyebrows. “You. Are. So. Loved.”

You sighed, opening it carefully. Inside sat a single, delicate charm—a tiny silver coffee cup.

A soft laugh escaped you.

You were notorious for your love of coffee.

Another note.

"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons." – T.S. Eliot

And underneath:

A hint: I know exactly how you take your coffee.

Your heart pounded.

This was someone close. Someone who paid attention.

Your gaze flickered to Spencer, who was sitting at his desk, fidgeting with a pen, his eyes fixed on his paperwork.

No.

It couldn’t be Spencer… could it?

---

The final note came just before the end of the day.

A single folded piece of paper, waiting for you when you returned from a meeting.

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." – Nat King Cole

And beneath it, a final message:

Hint: You already know who I am.

Your breath hitched.

Your fingers trembled as you turned the paper over, realizing there was something written on the back.

Meet me outside.

---

You stepped into the cool evening air, your pulse racing.

And there he was.

Spencer.

He stood near the entrance, shifting nervously, his hands tucked into his coat pockets. His gaze lifted the second you stepped outside, his expression uncertain—hopeful.

Your breath caught in your throat. “It was you.”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

You stared at him, mind reeling. “You left me all those notes? The book? The charm?

He nodded, fidgeting slightly. “I… I wasn’t sure how to tell you how I feel. So I thought maybe I could show you instead.”

Your heart swelled, the weight of every note, every gift, crashing into you all at once.

“You like me,” you said, barely above a whisper.

He let out a soft, nervous laugh. “Yeah. I do. I have for a while now.”

Warmth spread through your chest. “Spencer…”

His gaze dropped, his voice quieter. “I know this was kind of a ridiculous way to tell you, but I—”

You didn’t let him finish.

Instead, you stepped forward, reaching up to cup his face, and pressed your lips to his.

For a split second, he froze—then he melted into you, his hands tentatively settling at your waist. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but filled with everything he had been trying to say.

When you finally pulled away, he was staring at you, wide-eyed. “Does this mean…?”

You smiled, running your thumb over his cheek. “It means I like you too, Spencer.”

His face lit up, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—Valentine’s Day was your favorite holiday after all.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Watchers Anonymous

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, skinny!Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Thor, Loki, Curtis Everett, Jake Jensen, Cole Turner, Captain Syverson, (so far)

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for each of the above. This is our introduction to the group.

Summary: men with illicit infatuations come together to share and plot their perfect fantasies.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Introduction

"Do you really think we need snacks?" Jake asks as he unwraps the pan of rice crispy squares with sprinkles and chocolate drizzle. "I didn't think so but my aunt gave them to me," Peter shrugs. "I don't know."

"You're aunt?" Jake scoffs. He might be a loser but he's no mama's boy.

"Yeah, I mean, I usually go to bingo with her on Wednesdays but then this came up and... I had to make an excuse. I told her we were campaigning," he shrugs. "So she said, oh I'll make you boys some snacks..."

"Right," Jensen crosses his arms, reassured that he's not the lamest one in the pack. Not so far.

"When's that buddy of yours showing up?"

"Curtis? Oh, he said he wasn't sure," Jake shrugs. He hopes he has a friendly face there but he understands if it doesn't pan out. They all have places they'd rather be.

"Kinda nervous, not gonna lie," Peter confesses. It was his idea that they all meet up but now he's kind of regretting it. Strangers on the internet, on discord of all places, aren't necessarily the trustworthy type. He figures he's on there though and he's not that bad.

"Well, you seem chill," Jake offers. "So..."

"Thanks, I guess," Peter huffs.

There's a scuff at the door. A skinny blond stands in the doorway, looking down the hall behind him. He smooths his hair with his sweaty hands, slightly trembling. "Buck," he calls out in a voice deeper than one would guess by his appearance. "Down here." "Yeah, yeah," another replies behind the tramp of thick treads. "Looking for a john in this place. Shouldn't have had coffee."

"Oh, uh, Steve?" Peter greets uncertainly, "if I have that right?"

"That's me, yeah." He clears his throat and faces them. His nose is too big for his face, like a beak. The rest of him is tiny. He makes Peter feel big. Just like his special one... they'll get to that in a minute.

His friend catches up to him. Stood right behind him, he looks massive. Peter knows him too. Virtually at least. 

"And Bucky?" Peter adds. The other guy grunts and nods.

"This all?" Steve looks around at the mostly empty room.

"There's food?" Bucky wonders as he combs through his long hair. "Wasn't aware this was a catered event."

"Just snacks," Peter insists. He doesn't need any more hazing. Next time, he'll leave May's baking at home.

Steve wrings his hands before tucking them into his pockets. He chews his cheeks as Bucky heads for the snacks and greets Jake. There's more voices coming.

"Brother, don't be so grim," the large blond enters buoyantly, "it's about time you made some friends."

"I have friends," a slither returns dully.

"Ah, it is Peter!" Thor booms, not needing any introduction, though Peter wonders how he recognises him. "And let me guess, Jake with the glasses. Bucky has the shaggy hair like a dog, and Steve is slighter in frame."

"How..." Jake mutters.

"It is a gift of mine," he proclaims, "I'm Thor in case you couldn't guess. Oh and this," he pulls the other man forward and slings his arm over his lithe shoulders. "Is my brother, Loki."

Peter considers the uninvited sibling. Not as tall as his brother, or thick, and with sleek black hair and a long nose. They don't look related at all.

"I didn't know we were bringing plus ones," Bucky chews on a tart.

"Me either," Jake says.

"Oh, I do hope you don't mind. I wanted to invite him to the chat prior but... he is not often on the phone."

"It's fine," Peter assures, "I guess."

Bucky grumbles with less optimism and Jake sways. It's not exactly a gaming group or wholesome in any manner. Outsiders aren't safe.

"Relax, he has a special one," Thor girds. "Haven't you, brother?"

"I told you to mind your business," Loki retorts and gets only laughter in return.

"Jensen," a man enters without hesitation and marches to aforementioned man.

"Curt," Jake greets him with a nod, "you made it."

"Not thanks to... you!" He spots Thor and squares his shoulder. "You know, that truck is too big for your skillset."

"Ah, yes, it is only a ding, we will exchange info after," Thor rubs his neck with a guilty smile.

"Who are we missing?" Steve asks.

"Sy?" Jake suggests. "Don't think anyone else could make it."

"I'm here!" A sudden scramble through the door ends in a heap on the floor. The group of men turn to face the newcomer. "Urgh, ow." The man lays on his back after his slip. "I'm okay!"

He sits up and rubs the back of his head. Bucky tuts, "smooth."

"I'm--" the man pushes himself to his feet, "Cole. Ugh, I had to drive all the way here-- well, I know we all did, but, just not used to city roads."

"Cole," Peter is the first to approach, it's strange being the one doing most of the leading. Especially among this bunch. "Hey, nice to meet you. Peter."

He goes around the room and introduces everyone. Cole repeats each name anxiously. A sole squeaks through the door and a throat clears. A burly man with a baseball cap and scuffy bear wears a canvas jacket in grey camo.

"Sy," he intones as he enters. "Oh, are those brownies?"

"Right, that's everyone," Jake declares. "So, uh... what now?"

[https-hope]

Dating Gregory House

some dating headcannons with a gender/racially neutral Pediatrician!Reader

Affection

He isn't openly affectionate in public—or in private really, but he wouldn't dream of ever pushing you away if you were showing him any. If you were to walk into his office and put your head on his shoulder while he looked over a case, you best believe he isn't pushing you away.

you walk into the teams meeting room, looking exhausted. you'd just lost a patient that you broke your back over, working double the hours and missing meals and time with greg, just for them to die anyway. greg sees this the second you walk in, etched on your face. he silently sits on the leather couch at the side of the room, barking orders at the ducklings as you sit next to him quickly, laying your head on his shoulder, slowly dozing off.

Pet Names

again, he isn't really big on pet names—and frankly neither are you. there's the occasional 'darling' or 'love' but the two of you choose to use each others first names. it means more, especially considering the use of your surnames for so long.

Wilson walks into Houses office, seeing you and him laughing about something stupid that the ducklings had done. "House, me and Cuddy made a bet, I say you don't know the last name of Wendy from Peter Pan."

He looks perplexed, and then a smug grin falls over his face as you continue to eat, "Darling?"

You look up with a smile, "Yes love?"

Wilson starts laughing, stopping a recording on his phone, "Cuddy owes me 20 bucks."

PDA

with house, pda isn't frequent, especially not at the hospital. his love language tends to be acts of service–helps him feel not so... useless, in his head anyway. he buys breakfast and you buy lunch, then you cook together at home.

you walk into his office, smiling, two warm brown bags in your hand. he looks up from his newest case, any stress melting from his brow as he meets your gaze,

"hey"

"hey" a soft smile dances between your face and his, as he eyes the bags in your hand.

"took you long enough (name), I'm withering away over here"

"corned beef, mustard, no pickles for you, and a blt for me, two dr peppers for us too"

you set the bags down and sit with him in a comfortable silence, breaking it occasionally to talk about patients—content.

Arguing

his words always hurt. his sarcasm and anger towards himself and his leg often gets thrown at you when you fight. making comments about your job or appearance so that he is happier than at least one person. you give straight back, you will always argue back to him. no matter what though, you always find a bouquet and a bar of chocolate in your office the next day.

"says the one that dresses like she wants ever man she sees? you work with the parents of sick kids. wonder why"

your jaw almost hits the floor at his cruel comment, "yeah? well at least I don't need to train my arms just to walk. I know when to stop but no, your stubbornness literally lost you your leg."

silence. you storm out. he'd had a rough day, not able to fix any case presented to him, and you had to break the news to a parent that their son had a terminal illness. the anger and annoyance bubbled and just imploded onto each other.

lunch rolls around and you drop a sandwich bag on his desk and leave. inside is just a box of pickles. you sit smug, finishing your days work and getting cuddy to drop you off, not wanting to speak to him, sleeping on the sofa and leaving for work before him, only to find a bouquet of lilies, red roses, and baby's breath in a vase on your desk, alongside a large bar of chocolate. you smile as he drops off breakfast.

you tap the chair next to you and he sits, all is well.

I hope you enjoyed!!!

masterlist

[anne-chloe]

Imagine : You have just been kidnapped by Peter and his Lost Boys, but they’ve bit off more than they can chew with your modern attitude

“What is she yelling about now?” Peter asks while approaching his loitering boys, the distant yells of your voice infiltrating the main camp.

Devin looks to Peter and shrugs his shoulders, his confused expression mirroring Pans. “Something about… a message?” Devin repeats, unsure if he had even translated your words correctly. None of the boys were accustomed to the native tongue you spoke so fluently in.

“A message?” Peter echoes, his brow arching. “I shall find out what message it is that she has.”

Peter soon appears at the base of the tree, where two bamboo cages hang like trophies in the air. He tugs at a thick rope and begins lowering the cage downwards, ensuring it wouldn’t suddenly drop and harm the hostage inside: you.

He releases the rope and saunters over, a small whistle tune passing his lips as his shadow looms over your face.

You seem to perk up, but your momentary delight morphs into frustration. “About time!” You scoff loudly, waving your hand like a madwoman. In your hand you grip a device unknown to Peter, it’s metallic and sleek looking, otherworldly.

“I am told you have a message…” Peter starts slowly, deliberately drawing out his words to increase the fearful tension you should surely feel. But he is once again surprised as you do not react the way he desired.

“I want to send a message,” you correct, using your pointer finger to gesture to your phone. “There isn’t any signal here. What network does Neverland provide?”

Peter blinks rapidly. He understood almost every word you said individually, but all together they sounded far too much like gibberish. He knew, of course, that the other worlds had evolved over the years, but generally speaking he was able to make a connection with potential lost boys. You, on the other hand were something entirely new.

“Neverland does not support your modern lifestyle,” Peter explains flatly. He approaches the cage until he was leaning on the bars, his fingers wrapping around the bamboo until he swore it would snap between his fingers.

Bizarrely, you sigh and tuck your phone into your pocket before leaning as close as possible to Peter. “Count yourself lucky, magic-boy, or else I’d be calling the police immediately on your ass for kidnapping me.”

And it was with that strange threat that Peter realised how interesting you were as a hostage. Certainly more fascinating than the rest. In fact, you were such a curious being that Peter was debating whether or not he’d release you back to your world once he had gotten what he achieved.

Because who would lose a magnificent source of entertainment like you?

[love7poetry]

✮˚. ᵎᵎ I LOVE YOU I'M SORRY 𖦹彡⋆｡˚

⤷ spidey!ellie williams headcanons

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ sophia's letter ! i took a hiatus without meaning to😞 unfortunately this is all i had time for, but it was lowk fun. tbh i think i’ll stick to one shots bc this is basically a few blurbs in one, like this is all over the place idk i don’t like it but i needa post. also, LIAAAM NOOO all payne no liam :((

.ᐟ. . . content warnings. r's race is not specified, characters death, spiders, fighting, unrequited love, r is bi/pan, ellie mistaken for a guy, ellie mistakes r for a straight girl, mental instability, fall from a high building twice, alternative universe, assault attempt, unserious writing style, grammar mistakes probably

{ inspired by @hiiikiko ‘s spider-man!ellie. pls check out their work, it’s so good ! }

do not support naughty dog or zionist neil druckmann

HELP HERE🇵🇸

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie personally i think she's already a peter parker varient, trust me. these goofballs haunted down the killer of their father-figure for christ sake! of course peter had that whole not killing moto but like... oh well!

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie in my mind gets her powers basically the same as in tasm, except she was only in the Anderson Tower (hehe see what i did there) bc one of her professors assigned a thesis on one of their exhibitions. of course she goes the same day you do, the girl she lowkey has a crush on.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is a major LOSER omg. she admires you from afar bc she doesn't have the balls to start a conversation. she doesn't even think you're into girls to begin with so whats the point. leave it to ellie williams to fall for a straight girl smh

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie needs glasses to see or else everything is just a blur. she never takes them off, not even to sleep, yet somehow she doesn't see you until it's too late. now, ellie only ever sees you in class, so in her defense, poor girl wasn't expecting you to just appear in front of her and bump into you. otherwise, she would've turned the other way. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie has an apology problem, at least when she's nervous and boy do you make her nervous with your hair down and pretty face and glossy lips and cute outfits and gosh, she needs to get a grip. you tell her it's fine with a little laugh and ellie feels her face grow warm. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie like canon ellie, is an overthinker, so of course she's thinking abt that awkward interaction. well, it was for her, you didn't even think twice abt it. you're a chill person and it wasn't like ellie shoved you hard. ellie didn't have that kind of strenght... not yet, anyway.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie was just too distracted to notice a colorful spider jump on her back, only feeling a sting after stepping foot out of the mutlibillion dollar company tower. you can imagine her disturbed look when she got to her dorm, feeling around her neck until she plucked off a web string with a dead spider still attached on its end. yuck. to make matters worse, ellie started feeling sick. she passed out and didn't wake up until noon of the next day.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie was an orphan after her mother passed away when she was nine. she was left under the care of her mother's best friend, marlene, since that was the closest thing to family she had left. to ellie, marlene was family, so she'd called her aunt marlene. i think you can guess where this is going...

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie had promised marlene she would help with a charity event called the fireflies, but with ellie's new... condition, ellie just had too much on her mind. trying to balance college, having a lesbian crush on a straight girl, and finding out you can climb walls is a lot for a nineteen year old. and okay, maybe the first two are universial experiences, but definitely not the third. who is she supposed to talk to abt that?

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie was stressing and she never had the best temper when stressed. she had been focusing in creating organic web fluid bc in my au shes not gonna have anything shooting out of her, okay? i mean i still have some questions for tobey's spidey.... moving on! the charity simply slipped out of her mind and when ellie checked her phone after an entire day of testing her new abilities, swinging and even doing a handstand in just her index and middle fingers, she saw abt fifteen missed calls from aunt marlene. ellie decided to stop by to apologies and that’s when all hell broke lose.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie acts like her mother's death doesn't bother her after a decade, but when her name falls out of aunt marlene's lips during her lecture abt ellie's bad puntuality and lack of time managment, it was obvious it's still an open wound. 

'you are a lot like your mother, ellie,' marlene spoke. so far ellie was just nodding along to whatever marlene was saying but that sentence really annoyed the hell out of her. 'you truly are, and that's a good thing.' ellie's jaw tightened, but she didn't say anything. 'but she lived believing that if you can do good things for people, you have an obligation to do those things,' marlene pointed a finger at ellie's direction. 'that's what's at stake here. not choice; responsibility.' ellie scoffed. 'that's nice. yea, that’s all well and good. so where's she?' 'what?' marlene stops.  'where is my mom? don't you think it was her responsibility to tell me this herself?' the words coming out of her mouth taste like venom. there's tears threatening to spill, but ellie refuses to let them fall. marlene exhales, shaking her head. 'how dare you?' ellie raises her voice for the first time that night. "how dare i? how dare you!'

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie never got the chance to apologize for snapping at marlene. she knew deep down that marlene was just looking out for her, yet she was too in her head to see it then. ellie had stormed out right after and marlene went out looking for her. and it was the same thief that ellie did nothing to stop as she witness him rob a deli and even handed her a drink which she took without a second thought who killed marlene that night. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie will never forgive herself for that, for not stopping the thief and letting him kill the one person she had left. since then, ellie uses her powers to help others. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie also has a joel in this universe and he's finally being introduced, yippe! im mixing andrew's and tom's peters so i couldn't make him the uncle ben ik y'all thought he was gonna be. he's more like mcu's aunt may and tony. now bare with me pls

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie made herself a suit out of old clothes and a handmade mask. she'd been going around the neighborhood for a few weeks doing small things: returning stolen bikes, bringing cats down from trees, helping senior citizens cross the street, etc. there were no headlines on her yet, but she was growing popular on reddit. it wasn't until one day ellie felt this weird chill down her spine. everything happened so fast, ellie just remembers the after math, the adrenaline rush of catching a 3000 pounds car going at 40 miles with her bare hands to stop it from crashing into a school bus. that was the first time ellie saved a live, multiple at that, and she knew this is what she wanted- no, needed to do.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie had kept a low profile as her alter ego until then. never would she imagine that the video of her stopping a moving vehicle would get in the hands of the joel miller, ceo of miller industries. he's known of the expirements jerry had been doing with all sorts of animals and he didn't like it. joel never thought jerry had it in him to actually modify the human dna, but here he stood with a wall-crawling college student. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie didn't fangirl like mcu peter did when he met tony for the first time (i miss them). in fact she had the opposite reaction. she wasn't a fan of joel just like you and i aren't a fan of elon musk, but she respected him bc he has a flying suit. in this universe, joel was iron man and like tony, he told the entire world. when one of his enemies' killed sarah, he stopped wearing the suit. there's also no avengers bc that's too much writing for me 😇

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie agrees to work with joel only bc he promised to make her a super cool suit with lots of new tech. he said her homemade suit looked like an onesie and the only insult ellie could come up with was that his face looked like an onesie... oh how did joel wished the one to get bit would've been a grown adult smh

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie learns to be more in tune with her new abilities as time goes by. that chill down her spine, yea remember that? obviously we know they're spidey senses, but ellie doesn't know that, not until now. she kinda put two and two together, how she would get the feeling every time something bad was gonna happen. what pissed her off was that she had a you sense too. her stupid enhanced senses told her when you were near, but it only happened with you. like, what the fuck seriously

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is still a loser even after the bite so of course she has yet to talk to you. you now acknowledge her after the incident at the anderson tower, but it's just smiles if you two make eye contact. god, ellie feels so pathetic abt this clearly unrequited crush. until one day she overhears - not that she did it on surpose, it just happens a lot with her enhanced hearing - you talking about her! well... her alter ego, but it's still her.... yea, abt that actually....you and everyone else seem to think she’s a he?????

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is part of the tiny tittie committie as we know, so when she puts on joel's new and upgraded suit, she looks flat chested. she wasn't insecure of her size or anything, but ever since publicly teaming up with joel and gaining more publicity, people have mistaken her for a man, giving her the title of spider-man. it made her bust out laughing tbh

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie started seeing her masked self almost everywhere, especially in classes. that's when she heard you and your friend talk abt her, or well him. 

'i need him,' ellie almost choked on air hearing you speak. you were watching a video compilation on tiktok of spider-man saving people with chloe, a friend you made during the beginning of the semester.  'ew, he could be like your dad's age.' chloe laughed.  ellie frowned, sitting a few rows back. she is definitely not old enough to be a college student's dad. as a matter of fact, she can't even be a dad so. you smiled at chloe and shrugged. 'that wouldn't matter, because what matters is what's on the inside.' it was clear that you were joking, but as ellie looked up to where you were sitting she wondered how you would react if you found out it was a girl you were talking about. would it matter? would you still like her then?  or would you be disappointed?

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie tries to get over this crush by focusing on spider-boy, or wtv his name is. ever since becoming the city's hero, it's like everything has been dial up to eleven. crime fighting is far more intense but ellie likes the challenges. she's gotten a little cocky too, always joking and teasing the criminals she fights. her suit has a voice changer and she has a blast using it. 

'my grandma punches better than you,' she'd fake a yawn while grabbing the fist of one of the robbers when he tried to throw a punch. then she'd turn to the other who is already webbed up, 'actually, i never met my grandma.' then she'd punch the first guy just hard enough to kick him out cold. ‘but i bet her punches are still better.’

another instance is when she stopped a pretty big drug deal. about five men were going over what the plan was for the day, none noticed when ellie sneaked in until what seemed to be the leader grunted, 'you guys know what to do, now stay out of my ass.' ellie sighed loudly, 'it's hard to miss it.' 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is just having the time of her life with this new identity that it becomes addicting, it's like her copying mechanism fr. joel starts noticing that ellie has become sloppy and tries to warn her, and although ellie promises she'll do better, she doesn't. she's saving lives, jesus christ. can’t a girl have fun?

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie learns the hard way that not everyone is a fan, especially not the police. and okay yea that humbled her alr. it also annoys her bc she's doing half their job so you'd think they'd be more appreciative but no they named her a criminal and put out a reward for whoever can discover the vigilante's identity. now she has to put in double the work bc everyone she fights tries to pin her down to take off her mask. ellie really dislikes your mother for that, the police captian of the boston police department - bc im messy hehehe. you're like in love with spider-man tho, and are quite vocal abt it too 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie loves to hear you fangirl over her. like okay you're unaware of a lot of minor details - like the fact that it's actually spider-woman - but that’s okay, it's fineeee! baby steps right? well ellie takes a huge big girl step one night when she saves you from a gross man trying to assault you.

her spidey senses were going off, and she let them take her to a dark alley. she heard the voice of a girl struggling to push someone off as she crawled on the wall. ellie froze when she realized it was you, her heart beat picking up. this is the first time someone she knows is in trouble, and it made her feel uneasy.  'buddy, is this anyway to treat a lady?' ellie jumped down, voice changer on, making both you and the sick drunk to look over at her. 'i don't think so,' she grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him to the ground, off of you.  'go.' she spoke, a little desperate to get you out of here. you stood in shock until you looked up at your savior and then booked it out of there. you run further into the alley until you made it to the other end, turning back behind you once you’re under a lamppost. you frowned when you couldn't see anyone.  where did they go? ellie held onto a web while she came down upside down. feeling movement, you turned and came face to face with masked eyes looking back at you. 'you saved me.' it was her job, of course she would save you, but no words came out. all ellie did was nod. there was a moment of silence as you two stared at each other, both out of breath. you from prior events, and ellie because she's never been this close to you.  you slowly brought your hands up to ellie's neck where the mask began. ellie quickly grabbed one of your wrists to stop you, but you reassured her. 'i won't take it off,' you whispered. ellie let go of your hand and felt you pull her mask up to her nose so only half of her face showed. you held onto the sides of her face as you lean in to kiss her lips.  ellie knew it was wrong, that in a way she was abusing her power. but when your lips connected with hers, all she could think about was how soft you felt. there was no way she would get over you now. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie swang you home that night and ever since she visits you almost everyday, im talking five days out of the week. girl has it BAD after that kiss #freemygirl frfr😞 the visits start innocent and it wasn't like ellie was expecting anything, but somehow you two end up making out and who is ellie to stop it ok? she is just a girl. i mean she does feel bad at the beginning bc you STILL believe she's a male - in your defense, ellie still keeps her mask half way on even in a make out session as well the voice changer. you understand that "he" just wants to keep "his" identity a secret, especially after your mom's manhunt, so you don't question it. and that makes ellie feel even worse.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie was planning on telling you, i swear, but then joel found out ellie was seeing a girl and he warn her not to tell you anything. she was abt to cuss him out until he told her she was alr putting you in danger by being associated with a crime fighting hero, you knowing who is under the mask would just make you a bigger target. not to mention your own mother still hates her guts, and is putting you in multiple uncomfortable situations. 

'can i at least tell her i'm a girl?' ellie questioned, already fed up by this conversation. she rubbed the bridge of her nose before looking up at joel, who she had grown to look up to as a mentor. although they still bicker. joel sighed, 'we talked about this, kiddo. if people keep thinking there's a spider-man, the changes of finding out your identity are low.'  'she won't tell anyone.' ellie trusts you. in the time that you've been together, you haven't told any of your friends that you're up in your room with none other than boston's masked vigilante. you kept this part of your life like an oath, and ellie appreciates you for it.  however, joel doesn't know you like she does. 'have you forgotten who her mother is? this could be a set up, and you're falling for it.' ellie shakes her head. 'she's not like that.'  'look, if it had been any other girl, i would've said go for it. but she's the daughter of the woman who wants to turn you in, dead or alive.' ellie looks away from joel, but he continues. 'we gotta be smart about this.' ellie sighs, nodding. 'okay.'

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie wants to go up to you in person as herself whenever she sees you in class, but knows she can't. like what do you mean her tongue was exploring your mouth just the night before but now you two are back to strangers????? it's driving her crazyyy and she feels so stupid and so guilty. it doesn't matter how many people she saves, ellie feels like she's going to hell for doing this to you. yet she can’t stop, not now, she’s addicted to your taste and when she sees you as her masked self later that day, she smacks her lips against yours for all the times she felt the argue to kiss you as ellie but couldn't. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is still bitter towards joel for not letting her confess her secret to you but they've grown close and he is helping her find out why jerry anderson would create radioactive spiders. they don't find much until the top of the anderson tower bursts into flames. boston for sure thought they were going to be the next 9/11 but thanfully ellie got everyone out safetly. it was afterwork hours so not a lot of people were there, but when ellie went back to make sure she didn't miss anyone, a sinister laugh echoed. ellie's body went cold and her spidey senses were going crazy. if you couldn't tell jerry is the green goblin in this au but i still picture willem dafoe bc he's just TEW good as the green goblin so im recasting him as jerry 😁

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie definitely has a whole panic attack after being thrown against multiple walls by this not so kind dr anderson. she was just so overstimulated and physically hurt that it was all too much at once. this is ellie's first big villian and the old man can punch alr 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie has friends - dina and jessy ofc, but they’re unaware of her double life. ik i said she's a loser and i haven't mention them, but in my au her and abby were childhood friends until abby was sent to boarding school. they're literally peter and harry, you get me? so like norman, jerry was also neglectful and wouldn't pay attention to abby's friends, especially ones from so long ago, but ellie remembers him - also bc who wouldn't know the jerry anderson - and she knows that whatever she fought that night wasn't jerry, not entirely. he had this crazy look in his eyes and creepy smile, flying around in a hoverboard, accusing her of stealing his powers. yikes, awkward... 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie continues to fight him for some time, trying to figure out what the hell happened to him and how to help him. along with discoverying about anderson's sickness, ellie also finds out her mom used to work with jerry and she's the one who created the formula to cross-species genetics. yup, that really sent her spiraling - also im so uncreative and unoriginal im stealing from tasm bc ellie's mom also sabotaged the formula and added her dna into the equation, which is why ellie got her powers while jerry went nuts. okay he also gained some abilities but at what cost?

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie goes to your place after finding all of this shit out without telling you any of it, but just being near you helps her calm down. at this point, she knows so much abt you and you so little abt her, but you don't seem to mind. you tell her that you've been fighting a lot with your mom recently, and ellie listens. it's nice to talk abt other things to get her mind off of wtv is happening in her messed up life. you ask her if her parents know what she does, and for some reason, ellie opens up. she tells you the few memories she has of her mother, something she's never done with anyone apart from marlene but even then those moments were rare, more so now that's she gone too.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie is letting her guard down around you more and more, that she doesn't realize she's being followed. in her mind, your apartment is a safe place so why would she need to be on alert? well ima tell you why: her spidey senses woke her up in the middle of the night, but she dismisses them since she's been anxious for the past few days. it isn’t until later when she goes to class, the one with you in it, that her senses go off again, stonger this time after not seeing you enter through the doors at all. you've been late before, but never absent since attendance is mandatory in this class. she rushes to your apartment after class thinking maybe you're sick - which she knows isn't the case bc she saw you last night and you were perfectly fine. when she gets there, there's a green note sitting eerly on your bed waiting for her. 'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, SPIDER-GIRL'

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie feels like she's going to throw up. jerry knows and he has you. ellie spends all day trying to locate you with joel's help. they were able to track jerry's/green goblin's last location to be in an abandoned clock tower on the outskirts of boston. without wasting anymore time, ellie rushes there. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie gets to the clock tower as the last bits of sunlight set in the horizon. she climbs up and peaks through one of the broken windows. there, she sees you tied up to a pull with your arms above you kinda like mary jane in the spider-man 2. ellie couldn't see jerry anywhere but her focus was to get your out of here so very quietly she went in. you tried to warn her but by the time she removed the ropes on your wrists, a little pumpkin bomb landed next to her, exploding and making both you fall. i won't write the entire scene but i'll tease something - fyi when i say clock tower, think tasm2 gwen's death scene

jerry - or the green goblin - held you in his arms as his board hovered over ellie. he grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing you to keep your teary eyes on ellie. her gaze remained low after taken off her mask. she was following the goblin's instructions, too terrified of something happening to you. yet, she couldn't bring herself to meet the look of betrayal in your eyes. 'no, that can't be,' goblin mocked, and ellie never wanted to punch someone as much as she does right now. 'where is spider-man? i could've sworn there was a man under the mask. i thought so, did you, pretty face?' his neck turned to look at you, question ringing with faux surprise.  ellie clenched her fists, finally looking up at the goblin. 'you got what you wanted, now let her go!' goblin broke into a crazy smile. 'i want you dead, spidey! i need your blood!' 'you have me. just, let her go and we can talk about this.' ellie took a few careful steps forward. the goblin chuckled before nodding, 'okay.' then he pushed you off his board.  'no!' ellie tried to jump after you, but the goblin took a hold of her and threw her against a wall across the platform she was standing. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie starts seeing joel as a father figure that night after he shows up in the suit. nobody had seen joel as iron man in years, but he couldn't let the girl he had grown to care for as a daughter fight alone. he got you to the ground safely before going back to help ellie fight the goblin. unfortunately he managed to escape but they were able to get a sample of his blood to start working on a cure.

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie puts her mask back on before going up to you. she's holding onto her side, for sure with a few broken ribs that will heal in a week thanks to her fast self healing, and a limp on her walk. you're still shaken up from everything, from being kidnap and finding spidey's identity. you look at her with this unreadable expression and ellie starts trying to explain herself. joel flies down, interrupting the conversation to tell you it was his idea not to tell you anything, but before you can speak, sirens are heard outside the tower. 

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie watches as you run to your mom, hugging her as she asks you if you're hurt. ellie stands to the side doing that thing where her foot fidgets with the dirt and she starts playing with her hands, lowk feeling lonely. that’s when joel will come in with a hand on her shoulder, telling her she did good and that almost makes her break down. dw guys, i promise they won’t end up like mcu peter & tony or game ellie & joel🥹

✮⋆˙ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ˙⋆ ✮ spidey!ellie doesn't see you in class after that, not for a week. she also doesn't go to your place to respect the fact that you most definitely need space. you're kinda mad at ellie, but you're feelings are still there. if only she had been honest from the beginning. obviously you recognized her from class, so after a week you go up to her. annndddd this is where im ending this bc i have an exam to study for but yea yea you end up forgiving her and all that lovey-dovey stuff, hope y’all liked this chaotic headcanon

˚ ༘ 🦕𖦹⋆｡˚

[boopshoops]

Ah, how odd. It appears one of the puppets in Playful Land aren't quite like the rest. Almost like it has one of those consciences everyones been talking about, huh?

oc template by ai-kan1!! dividers by dollywons! Sound on!

Name: Isola Pinacirco-Cira

Nicknames: Pin, Pinpin, Goby

Gender: Demiwoman (Though she has not fully realized it yet!)

Pronouns: She/they

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Birthday: May 5 (Taurus)

Age: ??? (She has been asleep for a very long time, but she has been awake for 19 years)

Height: 5'0" or 152cm, though the height of the doll is adjustable.

Voice Claim(s): Lisa Hannigan, Miyuki Sawashiro

Twisted from: Pinocchio, Wendy's Music Box (From Tinkerbell/Peter Pan)

Unique Magic: "I've got no Strings" - The bearer can control and grant practically any unliving, immobile object the ability to move under their command. The more objects are being controlled, the more magic is consumed. However, the generation of blot is shockingly slow, allowing the bearer to use the magic for hours or even days at a time. Depending on the object, it may appear as though it is being haunted by a poltergeist. The magic, however, has a very short range. The object must be within five feet of the bearer, or it is no longer effective. Isola uses this magic to move her body on a day-to-day basis.

Grade: Freshman, though only after the Playful Land Event

Class: 1-D

Job: Playful Land Performer

Hobbies: Dancing ballet, face paint, makeup, putting outfits together, singing, sewing, wood carving, ceramic/pottery/resin repair.

Likes: Feather accessories, being alone, birds, rodents, bugs, performance, applause, classical, soul, and lofi music, animal figurines.

Dislikes: Rain, being alone, excessive heat, winter, bass boosted, fast, or hyper music, too frequent of doll repair jobs, cramped spaces, being unable to eat.

Fears: Being unlovable, never loving someone else, living a life alone, never living in a body they feel comfortable in.

Summary: A quaint performer at the renowned Playful Land, constantly known for putting on a show of elegance and grace. With her unusual cadence, she often struggles to maintain an audience despite her immense talent. Isola frequently scares off certain guests on accident. They have a very hard time handling their emotions, causing them to either come off highly unnatural or lacking facial expressions to a degree that could disturb others.

That's just the cons of being one of the many puppets on the premises, though. She is often mistaken as being one of the other, more robotic workers. Isola's body is detailed and articulated enough to stand out among them, but off-putting enough to be immediately recognized as inhuman. Nonetheless, she remains on the traveling amusement park as what is considered a "highly prized item" by the owner. Of course, you don't come across puppets like her everyday, do you? Might as well put her on display.

When night hits and protocol begins, when the consequences of breaking the many rules of the park take their toll, they can do nothing but watch over it all. It makes her feel sick, quite honestly. Disgusted. Yet, she isn't allowed to help anyone. Her attempts to help usually cause the visitors to flee from her anyway, followed by her own set of serious consequences imposed by the owner. The most she can truly do is make it harder on the other workers: including those she has no choice but to be closest to on the ship: Fellow and Gid- Ah. Wrong Identity. Ernesto and Gino.

CHARACTER PLAYLIST - INSPIRATION - CREATION STORY

Author's Note: holy fuck they have a chokehold on me. hOOOO they have a chokehold on me. she came to me in a vision and did nOT let me go until she was created, holy fuck. UGSDBGSDIUAAAAA anyway, i love her and she is my baby. my slightly fucked up baby.

Note that relationships are up for possible changes in the future- I have thought about possibly involving them with someone romantically, but i feel like I want her to put HERSELF first before that. Her story is one about self love, self discovery, and self care, and I feel like throwing her into oc x canon romance too soon would negate that. ALSO she is NOT a part of my TCOAV au!!! i mean. im probably gonna still do fun stuff where she could interact with my ocs from there since im an au fanatic, but- yeah. tcoav is a story more focused on Yuu Shi, and I feel that would also take away from important parts of Isola's character and growth. tis an excuse to try a new oc profile format too <333

that all being said and on a somewhat less related note. i wanna make a comic of her so badly. fuCK. evaporates into thin air. thank u for coming to my ted talk.

Tag list :D

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere @justm3di0cr3

@thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch

@beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @qsoap

@sillyslipperybananapeel @tixdixl @twstinginthewind @gimmeurmoneyagh

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Pick-up Lines (or Attempts) by SGE Prequel Characters

I wasn't planning on doing anything related to Valentine's Day, but came up with this. Feel free to disagree with me if anything seems off. Some of these are hyperbole-infested, haha.

⸻

Hook:

Flirting: [He takes up the person's hand and says seductively,] What you think about [some egocentric yet relevant topic of conversation], lad/lass?

Flirted with: He flirts back—whether he has any sincere feelings for the person or not.

Midas:

Flirting: Is flirting beneath him? Likely. He doesn't like soppy Evers who mistake him for one himself.

Flirted with: Doesn't bother responding or dismisses the person. Or worse, he suspects high-handed manipulation at play and says something like "Find someone else."

Rufius:

Flirting: [He doesn't have the guts to flirt? May bring the object of his affections pastries.]

Flirted with: Completely oblivious. Mistakenly recognizes flirtation as an attempt to befriend or as just others simply being "friendly" to him for once.

Kyma:

Responds kindly in either scenario. Might let many, many suitors down.

Marialena:

Flirting: I foresaw a future for you and I together.

Flirted with: Laughs in the person's face. How pathetic, she could think. Or she blatantly lies and tells them they will die of smallpox or malaria because she is contagious and ought to be on her deathbed, if only to get rid of them. If not, she could string the person along for a while, to do her bidding.

Peter Pan:

Flirting: [N/A]

Flirted with: Yuck. Bluck. Bleh. I'm not getting disgusting girl cooties!

Rise Rhian:

Flirting: [He initiates a handshake, and holds onto it for too long.] Hello... [Unfortunately, his mind goes blank and he blushes. In some cases, he may find something clever to say, especially about the physical appearance of his crush.]

Flirted with: [Tongue-tied, attempts to act coy in front of the admirer, probably blushes profusely. Can't look anyone in the eye.]

Fall Rhian:

Flirting: [Wouldn't bother if a guy isn't his prophesied True Love... probably. Do old habits die hard like his brother had? Only one way to find out. Expose himself to handsome guys (students?) and get over the feelings.]

Flirted with: May respond by thinking some form of: Hostile human lifeform. What's the trick this time? He can no longer trust after everything that had gone on.

Rafal:

Flirting: [*Crickets* Then, a voice sounds from behind his "victim:"] Ahem... greetings. I am your stalker. Do you love me? Please. I command you to love me. I promise you, you won't find anyone better. I'll make it for certain.

Flirted with: [Stares at the person like they're stupid for even trying and says something scathing in return.]

[I think he has the potential to be off the rails awkward or deeply questionable, in terms of having a sound mind, if he's not acting seductively as part of a greater ploy and actually has real feelings for someone getting in his way. Hence, the slight deviation from canon.

His first response was also inspired by "Stalker's Tango" and "An Unhealthy Obsession."]

[littlemissomega]

Meeting the Coworkers Part 2: Wanda

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), use of magic, n!pple play, overstimulation, kinda threesome (Steve doesn't do anything), pet names, praise k!nk, innocent!sub!reader x dom!Steve x switch!Wanda

Summary: Steve has been clear about his polyamorous relationship with some of his coworkers since he started dating Y/N, but she never really wanted to meet any of them before. Steve introduces her to Wanda over dinner, and Wanda can't help but spice the meal up

Part 1: Peter

Masterlist

Author's Note: this is part of a series, but you don't HAVE to read the first part to understand. I do recommend though

Thank you for all the love and support. I had to take a break from writing due to health issues, but I'm back part time for a while

“Sweetheart, don't you wanna sit down for a minute before Wanda gets here?” Steve asks.

“No, I'm fine! I just want everything to be perfect!” YN responds, grabbing a mite and opening the oven.

“Nuh uh, let me get that!” Steve interrupts, appearing at her side in a second.

“You know I can handle hot pans, don’t you? I’m a big girl, Steven!” Y/N puts her hands on her hips as Steve pulls the casserole out of the oven.

“Brave words for such a tiny woman,” he chuckles, settling the dish on the table.

“Hey, I am 5’3!” Y/N retorts, starting towards the fridge.

Steve slaps her butt, lightly but not particularly gently. Y/N gasps, moving her hands behind her to block her butt and scurring away. Steve reaches her in one stride and grabs her hips; pulling her back flush to his chest

“More like 5’2 and a half. And where’s all this attitude coming from, bunny? Not that Wanda won’t love punishing you for it, but still,” Steve chuckles.

Y/N’s hands are still trapped between them, and she can feel his growing hard-on.

“Stevie, I have to finish dinner!” Y/N whines

“Do I need to put you over my knee so you’re good for Wanda?” Steve rumbles, sliding his hand under Y/N’s dress to grabs one of her soft thighs.

“No, sir!” she blushes.

“Best behavior tonight, little miss,” Steve voices, releasing her, “Wanda won't let you cum if you use that attitude with her,”

“Yes sir!” Y/N repeats as she rushes over to the fridge. She grabs the handle with both hands and has to tug with all her body weight to break the seal.

Y/N takes the salad bowl in both hands and bumps the door with her hip to close it.

“Are you nervous?” Steve asks as she rearranges the items on the table “Don’t worry, Wanda will only be mean if you want her to be,” Steve chuckles.

Y/N’s cheeks flush, “Not helping!”

The doorbell chimes and her heartrate spikes.

“Don’t worry,” Steve repeats. He pats her cheek as he passes her to open the door.

Y/N hears the door open as she washes her hands, and scurries to join them. She hears the loud and heavy sound of Steve’s shoes, and the clicking of a pair of heels. In contrast, Y/N’s bare feet softly pad against the hardwood floors. Steve is talking quietly to a red-haried woman.

When Y/N joins them in the foreway. The woman is wearing a black blazer and slacks with a white v-knee blouse. Her heels and purse are black as well. Her lips are painted red though.

“Hi,” Y/N voices so softly, only someone with Steve and Wanda’s enhanced hearing could hear.

“Hi, malyshka! I’m Wanda,” the woman smiles warmly.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N responds, looking down at their feet. She curls her toes slightly, feeling underdressed without shoes. But Steve likes her to be barefoot in the house, and quite frankly so does she.

“Now, she isn’t always this shy, Wanda,” Steve laughs, slipping an arm around Y/N’s waist to steady her, “You should have heard the sass she was throwing at me earlier,”

“Oh, does she have a bit of a bratty side?” Wanda laughs, shrugging her coat off. Y/N rushes to take it, despite her bright red face. But Steve takes it right out of her hands and hangs it up.

“That’s an understatement!”

Steve leads them back to the table and Y/N has to take two steps for every one of theirs to keep up.

“Something smells good,” Wanda smiles.

“I made chicken casserole, then there’s salad too,” Y/N responds, stumbling over her words.

“Sounds delicious,” Wanda voices, though she isn’t looking at the food. Her gaze racks up and down YN’s body

Y/N blushes from her hairline to her toes. She smoothes her sundress and tucks it under her before sitting. Steve chuckles softly.

“Oh, crapdoodles, I forgot a serving spoon!” Y/N realizes, starting to stand.

“I’ll get it, bunny,” Steve responds as Wanda chuckles at Y/N’s word choice.

“I’m assuming she’s not allowed to curse,” Wanda voices in Steve's direction.

“Of course not!” Steve calls as he riffles through the silverware, “Little babygirls don’t get to curse!”

“What’s your safe word, malushka?” Wanda asks softly.

“Oh! Ummm…red?” Y/N whispers back, “But-”

“Shhh, use it anytime your need, luv,” “Here we are!” Steve smiles, jolting Y/N from her shock. He starts dishing out the food, and Y/N stares at her plate, still confused.

“So,” Wanda starts, “Tell me about yourself, malushka. Steve’s been so secretive!”

“Well, Steve and I met a year ago. I’m taking online classes at a community college to finish my major,” Y/N explains, still confused by the extreme change in subject.

“What’s your major, bunny?” Wanda asks, the corners of her lips quirking up at Y/N’s reaction to the nickname.

“Nursing,” Wanda raises an eyebrow at Steve, and he shrugs.

“God knows the team could use another good nurse,” Steve smirks.

Y/N takes a bite of food, still feeling slightly disoriented. And that’s when she feels it. A hand on her knee. Her gaze drops to her lap, expecting to see Steve’s hand. But she sees…nothing. Nothing but a faint red glow right where she feels the phantom hand.

She stifles a gasp, her gaze flying up to meet Wanda’s again. A slight smile tugs at Wanda’s lips as she lifts her water glass to them. Then, Y/N notices the faint red glow coming from Wanda’s hand. Y/N’s gaze slaps back to her plate, taking another bite to mask her shock.

“What do you like to do in your free time?” Wanda asks like nothing is occurring under the table.

“I-” Y/N starts.

“Eye contact when you’re talking to her, bunny,” Steve chides gently.

“Yes sir!” she responds on instinct. Y/N blushes harder as she meets Wanda’s eyes.

Warm isn’t quite the right word to describe Wanda eyes. It’s somewhere between the realm of warm and scorching, but not in an angry manner. More like enamored. The phantom hand slips up Y/N’s thigh until it reaches where her leg meets her hip. Y/N clears her throat before trying again.

“I like to read! And cook!” Y/N stutters.

“Wow, you really have trained yourself to be a little housewife, Captain,” Wanda laughs softly.

“She is a good girl,” Steve smiles , affection in his eyes.

“So, have you heard about next week’s mission?” Wanda asks before taking a bite of her food.

Y/N holds back a sigh of relief as their eyes leave hers. She takes a sip of water in an attempt to cool the heat in her face. The hand feels exactly like a human hand as it slips between Y/N’s thighs, cupping her bare and dripping pussy.

Steve doesn’t let Y/N wear panties in the house or office, he doesn’t like anything restricting his access to what belongs to him. At that moment, Y/N had never felt such conflicting emotions for the rule.

The warm and steady pressure against her most sensitive parts feels so…sinful yet delicious. Especially with Steve sitting right next to her, seemingly unaware.

Y/N smooths her napkin over her lap to cover the red that moved between her thighs with the hand, just in case Steve looks down. A finger slips between Y/N’s folds and traces a path from her dripping hole to her throbbing clit, over and over again.

Y/N bites down on her lip, but she can’t keep a whimper from slipping out. The conversation screeches to a halt,a dn both pairs of eyes land on her.

“Are you okay, baby? Do you need a break?” Steve asks, sounding worried.

That makes Y/N wonder if he’s in on this plan. Does he know? Surely not. The finger between her folds slows its pattern.

“Yes, Malushka, do you need a break?” Wanda repeats.

No, Steve can’t know. His tone was infused with worry and slight confusion, while Wanda’s holds mock pity and teasing. But the slowing of the sensations and the yes on her both scream ‘Your choice, your choice, your choice!’

“N-no! I’m fine!” Y/N responds slightly shakily. Steve doesn’t look convinced, “Really!” Y/N takes another bite of her food, as if to prove it.

Wanda and Steve continue their conversation where they left off. Y/N crosses her ankles and sqeezes her thigh together in an attempt to lessen the sensation as the finger adds a light circle of her clit to the pattern.

But the combination of added pressure and Steve placing his hands on her upper thigh- seemingly to comfort her- only makes it more intense.Y/N uncrosses her ankles and spreads her legs slightly, hooking her ankles around each leg of the chair. The slight breeze now reaching between her thighs only increases her sensitivity, but it’s less intense than before.

Y/N focuses on her plate; taking careful bites. But when the finger starts gently tapping her clit, she can’t help but thrust her hips up slightly.

“If you don’t stop squirming right now, bunny,” Steve rumbles in her ear, “I will spread you out on this table, and slap your little baby pussy until you have something to squirm about,”

The finger circles her clit, applying gentle pressure to the sensitive nerves. A moan slips from Y/N’s lips, and she slaps a hand over the mouth. Her eyes flicker to Wanda’s before settling on Steve.

“Y-yes sir, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, sir,” Y/N practically mewls.

Steve gently brushes her hair away from her face, “Mind your manners, Y/N,” he responds sternly.

“Yes, sir,” Y/N mumbles as her gaze returns to her plate.

The finger repeats its pattern of tap tap tapping her clit, then circling it with increasing pressure. It’s the most intense combination of edging and overstimulation; Y/N struggles to keep her eyes open. She white-knuckles her fork and tries to refocus on the conversation.

Steve and Wanda are talking about the new suits Tony Stark is designing for each of the Avengers. It’s interesting, but as another phantom hand slips 2 long fingers into her tight, dripping opening, Y/N can’t hold it together anymore.

Y/N’s fork clatters to the table, and her fingers scramble to grip the edge of the table. A sharp, stinging slap to her thigh from Steve pushes her right to the edge.

“Y/N, what is-”

“Daddy, please can I cum? Please let me cum, can’t hold it, need to cum so bad!” Y/N blubbers, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back.

Steve stares at her in shock. Y/N’s always been sensitive, but not enough to cum just from a light slap to her thigh. He looks under the table and rips the napkin off her lap, expecting to see Wanda’s hands. But all he sees is a faint red glow. When he looks across the table at Wanda, the same glow tints her now visible fingers. She has an amused, proud look on her face.

“I don’t suppose I’m the one you should be asking, bunny,” Steve croons, leaning back in his chair and gently gripping Y/N’s chin. He forces her to look across the table at Wanda, his command thick in the air.

“P-please can I cum, Wanda? I promise I’ll be g-good! Please!” Y/N begs.

“Cum for me, malushka,” Wanda smirks.

Steve forces Y/N to hold Wanda’s gaze as her orgasum crashes down around her. Y/N’s head drops alittle from the weight of it, and her mout forms an O shape. Sounds Y/N didn’t even know she could create pour from her parted lips.

“F-fuck!” Y/N whimpers as her climax is stretched out by the fingers continuing gentle circle.

Steve clicks his tongue in disapproval, but doesn’t push the matter. Y/N’s whole body goes limp as the aftermaths tremer though her, including her face in Steve’s hand. he chuckles as he has to hold her up.

“You did so perfectly, darling. I just couldn’t resist testing what a good girl you could be,” Wanda purrs, shifting her foot under the table to gently rub Y/N’s shin, up and and down.

Y/N tries to say something, but words fail her and she sinks back into her blubber jumble of bones.

“Shh, good girl,” Steve soothes, standing up and scooping Y/N into his arms. Steve starts towards the living room, but stops when Wanda doesn’t get up.

“you coming?” he asks.

“Are you sure?” Wanda asks, looking unsure for the first time that evening.

“Of course. You don’t get to participate in a scene without also participating in the aftercare,” Steve states firmly, “Even if I didn’t know a scene was going on,”

A smile plays on his lips. Steve settles Y/N on his lap, on the couch, and Wanda grabs a throw blanket to drape over them both. Wanda then sits down next to them and pulls Y/N’s legs into her lap.

“You could’ve at least told me your plan,” Steve chides, though a smirk still paints his lips as Y/N tucks her head under his chin.

“You're right, and I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist when I saw what a pretty, innocent pet you’ve ben hiding!” Wanda responds, “And the surprise was half the fun, wasn’t it?”

“How are you feeling, baby?” Steve asks, returning his attention to Y/N.

“G-good,. Really good,” Y/N giggles softly.

“Did you like all that, bunny?”

“Maybe a little too much,” Y/N admits jokingly.

“That did get you pretty worked up, didn’t it? I can feel how soaked you're through your dress,”

Electricity zips through Y/N at Steve’s words, and her blush returns.

“How’d it make you feel, malushka?” Wanda asks. Y/N thinks for a second.

“Rebellious. And dirty, but in a good…like, burning way. A little confused at first, but really, really good,” Y/N admits.

“My dirty little girl, cumming in the middle of dinner without either of us touching you,” Steve groans.

Y/N wants to argue that Wanda had touched her, just with her magic; and Steve had his hand on her thigh the whole time! But she also values her ability to sit down for the next week, so she holds her tongue. The idea of talking back and being punished does diststanly intrigue her though.

Wanda traces patterns on Y/N’s leg.

“And what do you want now, bunny?” Steve asks, sensing her growing arousal, but not wanting to push her.

“More,” Y/N whispers, squeezing her thighs together tighter.

Wanda tasks and slides her hands up to Y/N’s inner thighs, pushing them apart. Y/N’s dress barely conceals her dripping pussy.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, malushka,” Wanda responds, still gripping her thighs.

Y/N meets Steve’ eyes as if asking for permission before turning back to Wanda. A thought flashes through Y/N’s mind, and Wanda’s smik grows as if she’d said it aloud.

“Do you want me to taste your pretty pussy?”

A feeling of intense embarrassment washes through Y/N, and she can’t help but let a pathetic mewl slip from her lips as she buries her face in Steve’s chest.

“Gods, you didn’t tell me what a shy little baby she is, Steve,” Wanda chuckles.

Y/N hears shuffling and peaks to see Wanda stand up, kick off her heels, and drop to her knees smoothly as the most experience submissive. But there’s something different. Even as Wanda kneels, she emits a confidence and dominance only a top could master.

Y/N squeaks as Steve spins her to face Wanda. Wanda then grabs Y/N’s ankles and places them on the outsides of Steeve’s thighs.

The position feels incredibly lewd as is, but triples so as Steve yanks her dress off her head. Y/N gasps as the cool air hits her flushed, bare skin.

“So pretty,” Wanda croons, rolling one of Y/N’s nipples between her fingers. Y/N bites her lips and arches her back.

Steve slips his thumb between Y/N’s lips, pressing down on her tongue for a moment before pulling her lip out of her mouth.

“None of that. Let her hear you, bug,” Steve mumbles in Y/N’s ear.

Wanda trails her hands down Y/N’s body, exploring every curve and inch. Her fingers faulter at Y/N’s wrists, where her magic restricting braclets sit.

“What do we have here?” Wanda asks.

Electricity sparks through Y/N ask Wanda tugs on the bands.

“No!” Y/N interrupts, snatching her wrists away.

“I’m sorry, luvie. I just didn’t know you had magic,” Wanda responds gently.

“I…I don’t really talk about it. Or use it. It’s too dangerous. That’s why I have the bands,” Y/N explains, sinking back into Steve.

“I know how you feel, malushka. But if you ever want to learn how to control it, I’m here,” Wanda smiles gently, “And just think of all the fun we could have during training sessions,”

Warmth ripples through Y/N at the idea.

“I’ll think about it,” she agrees tentatively, “Please just… touch me now,”

“Can I kiss you, luv?’ Wanda asks.

Y/N looks back at Steve.

“It’s your choice, bunny. I certainly don’t mind,”

“Yes,” Y/N decides, relaxing again as Wanda lifts up on her legs and cups Y/N’s face.

Wanda’s lips are soft against Y/N’s, and her mouth warm. Wanda tonge expertly explores Y/N’s mouth, and she leans forward in Steve’s lap.

Wanda’s lipstick tastes slightly bitter in Y/N’s mouth, but she doesn’t mind it. Y/N likes the idea of be stained in red lipstick everywhere Wanda’s lip touch her.

“Okay, baby, take a breathe,” Steve chuckles, pulling Y/N away from Wanda.

“S-sorry, Daddy,” Y/N blushes, “I got excited,”

“Don’t apologize, malushka. It’s adorable,” Wanda laughs, dropping so her thighs are flush with her calves again. And her lips are level with Y/N’s pussy.

“Relax,” Wanda reminds her before latching onto her clit.

“Ohmygod!” Y/N squeals, griping Steve’s arms.

With Peter, it was so different. He started out gentler, teasing her before getting a little rougher.

Not with Wanda. Wanda drives right in, sucking Y/N’s clt into her mouth and swirling her tounge around it. Wanda’s movements are less inquisitive. She knows what she’s doing, and she know what she’s doing is good.

Y/N squirms her hips around, unsure if she’s trying to move closer or farther from Wanda’s mouth. All she accomplishes is rocking back against Steve raging hard-on. Steve growls in her ear.

“Daddy, can I have a kiss?” Y/N asks breathlessly.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

Steve’s kiss is gentler than Wanda’s. He know every inch of her body and makes it known. But the kiss doesn’t do much to distract Y/N from the intense sensations Wanda is causing. Steve swallows the moans slipping from her lips until she pulls away.

Wanda moves her mouth down, swirling her tongue against Y/N’s opening. Y/N cries out as she slips her tounge into her.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum! Please please can I cum, Wanda?” Y/N begs, grinding against Wanda’s mouth

.“Hold it,” Wanda order before returning her tounge to it’s prior moments.

“But-” Y/N whines, the heat building to an unbearable level.

Wanda pinches her thigh and Steve shushes her. All Y/N can do is lean her head back against Steve’s shoulder and writhe. Steve slips an arm around her waist to hold her in place.

“Please please, Wanda! Please! I need to so bad, can’t can’t, please!” Y/N cries, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. Her chest heaves as she fights to obey.

“Cum now, malushka,” Wanda moans against her, circling Y/N’s clit with her thumb.

Y/N cries out as her climax hits her. Stars erupt in her vision and heat washes over her, all the way to her toes. She thrashes weakly in Steve’s grip as Wanda works her down from her climax.

“Wanda,” Y/N whimpers. She opens her eyes. She didn’t realize she closed them, but she must have. Y/N moans again at the sight below her.

“Doesn’t she look pretty like that, bunny?” Steve rumbles.

“Uh huh! So…fuck” Y/N whimpers breathlessly.

Wanda’s face is dripping with Y/N’s juices, and her lipstick is smudged across her lips.

“If you think I love pretty, malushka, you should see yourself. just look down,” Wanda purrs.

Looking down, Y/N sees what she’s talking about. Y/N’s pussy is still dripping, the swollen folds covered in red lipstick. All Y/N can do is moan at the sight.

“That’s…really hot,” Y/N finally admits.Steve and Wanda make eyes contact, and laugh. Y/N wonders faintly if she’ll get a yeast infection from all the lipstick coating her, but if she does, it’ll be worth it.

“Come on, bunny. Let’s get you to bed,” Steve chuckles.

Steve stands with Y/N cradled in his arms and carries her back to their bedroom. Wanda pulls the covers back so Steve can slip Y/N in the bed. Y/N makes grabby hands at the two of them until they climb in the bed with her. Wanda tosses her blazer to the side before pulling Y/N into her arms.

“You did so good for me,” Wanda whispers, smoothing Y/N's hair out of her face.Y/N nuzzles her face Wanda’s chest and wraps a leg around Steve's. His jeans are rough against her bare leg, but she doesn't mind.

“I told you she was a good girl,” Steve chuckles, draping one arm over Y/N’s waist, and slips the other under Wanda's neck

“Daddy?” Y/N whispers.

“What is it, baby?”

“Neither of you got to cum,” she pouts.

Wanda and Steve give each other amused looks.

“Well, this was about you, luvie, not us,” Wanda points out.

“And you're done for the night, baby. Your sweet pussy needs a break,”

Y/N mumbles incoherent something into Wanda's chest.

“Speak up, sweetie,” Wanda croons, pulling y/n away from her gently.

“I mean y-you two could…you know? If you wanted? And I could watch?” Y/N stutters, blushing furiously.

“Fuck, bunny, that's some ideas,” Steve groans, his cock growing even harder.

“Only if you guys want of course! You don't have to, I just though-”

Wanda interrupts Y/N with her lips, kissing away her anxiety.

“I think that's a great idea, malushka,” Wanda smiles, “that is, if your Daddy agrees,”

“Let's put on a show for our good girl,” Steve smirks.

Author's Note: I ran out of energy while writing and decided to post what I had, but y'all let me know if you want a part 2 of this scene with Steve and Wanda

[pxnsneverland]

Riding With Devils | biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 1)

(gif source: shadowhaert)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

plot summary: Sophie Ann Sutton appears to have the perfect life as a high school senior in a small town during the 1960s. With straight A's, a thriving social life, and a scholarship to her dream college, she feels invincible—especially with her loyal best friend by her side. But everything changes when she crosses paths with Austin, the dangerously charming son of the local biker gang's leader. Their worlds collide in an electrifying romance that defies all expectations, pulling Sophie into a whirlwind of rebellion, excitement and danger.

pairings: austin butler x oc

word count: 4295

warnings/notes: I decided to start another biker!Austin story after re-watching The Bikeriders. Hope y'all enjoy :)

Chapter 1: The Unlikely Knight

It was the kind of decision Sophie Sutton would later describe as "temporary insanity," but at eleven thirty on a Tuesday night, it felt like the most rational choice in the world.

"Come on, Sophie. One night of breaking curfew isn't going to derail your entire future," Maggie insisted, leaning against Sophie's bedroom doorframe with the casual confidence of someone who had never worried about college applications or parental expectations.

Sophie glanced at her desk where her half-finished English essay sat beneath a stack of college brochures. "My parents would literally murder me if they found out."

"They won't find out. They're dead asleep by ten every night. You've said it yourself a million times." Maggie flopped onto Sophie's meticulously made bed, disrupting the decorative pillows arranged by size and color. "Besides, Jimmy will be there."

The mention of Jimmy Carson—with his quiet intensity and habit of quoting poetry when he thought no one was listening—made Sophie's stomach flip in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

"That's supposed to convince me?" Sophie asked, though she was already mentally cataloging what she would wear.

"Don't pretend you haven't been stealing glances at him in AP Lit for months." Maggie grinned. "Plus, Mel's Diner has the best milkshakes in three counties."

Sophie adjusted her pearl earring—a sixteenth birthday gift from her grandmother—and caught her reflection in the vanity mirror. The perfect daughter. Student council president. Early acceptance candidate for Radcliffe. What would happen if, just once, she didn't live up to the image?

"Fine," she said, surprised by the steadiness in her voice. "But we're back by one, no exceptions."

Maggie squealed and threw her arms around Sophie. "This is going to be the best Tuesday night of your life, I promise."

As Sophie changed into a sky-blue dress with a Peter Pan collar—rebellious enough to sneak out, not rebellious enough to abandon her standards completely—she couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental was about to shift in her carefully constructed world. The descent down the trellis outside her window was less graceful than Sophie had imagined. Romance novels never mentioned splinters or the undignified scramble to keep one's dress from catching on the wooden lattice. When her feet finally touched the dewy grass, she felt a rush of adrenaline that was equal parts exhilaration and terror.

"See? Easy as pie," Maggie whispered, already waiting below. Her friend's carefree smile gleamed in the moonlight, a stark contrast to the knot tightening in Sophie's stomach.

"If my father hears that car start..." Sophie murmured, glancing back at the darkened windows of her house. Each one represented a different disaster scenario in her mind—her mother's disappointed sigh, her father's lecture about responsibility and trust.

"That's why we're walking to the corner. Jimmy's picking us up there." Maggie linked her arm through Sophie's and pulled her across the lawn. "God, you look like you're walking to your execution. It's midnight milkshakes, not armed robbery."

But to Sophie, the weight of this small rebellion felt enormous. Seventeen years of carefully following every rule had created deep grooves in her psyche, and stepping out of them felt physically disorienting. Still, with each step away from her house, a strange lightness began to spread through her chest. When Jimmy's battered blue Chevy appeared at the corner, headlights dimmed to conspirator levels, Sophie's heart performed a complicated gymnastic routine. He leaned across the passenger seat to push open the door, and the interior light briefly illuminated his face—those serious eyes, the slight curl at the corner of his mouth that suggested he knew secrets about the world she was still learning.

"Ladies," he said, his voice deeper than it ever sounded in the fluorescent glare of classrooms. "Your chariot awaits."

Maggie nudged Sophie forward. "Shotgun for the first-time rule-breaker."

Sophie slid into the passenger seat, hyperaware of the worn leather against her bare legs, the faint smell of pine and something uniquely Jimmy—like old books and guitar strings.

"I wasn't sure you'd actually come," he said quietly as Maggie climbed into the back.

"Neither was I," Sophie admitted, surprising herself with her honesty.

Jimmy's smile then—slow and genuine—made the risk suddenly worth it. "Well, I'm glad you did."

As they drove through the sleeping town, Sophie watched familiar landmarks transform in the midnight hour. The courthouse square, normally bustling with activity, stood silent and dignified. The storefronts along Main Street, with their darkened windows, seemed to hold their breath alongside her. For the first time, Sophie felt like she was seeing her hometown as it really was, not as the backdrop to her perfect-daughter performance.

***

Mel's Diner glowed like a lighthouse at the edge of town—neon signs buzzing in the darkness, promising warmth and secrets and possibilities. Sophie had driven past it hundreds of times but had never been inside after ten o'clock, when the respectable families cleared out and the booths filled with night shift workers and teenagers with nowhere better to be.

"Here we are," Jimmy announced, pulling into a spot near the entrance. "Home of the famous Blue Ribbon milkshake and the only decent jukebox left in Millfield."

Sophie hesitated before opening her door.

"Having second thoughts?" Jimmy asked, his voice gentle.

"About a dozen," Sophie admitted. "But I'm still going in."

The bell above the door chimed as they entered, and several heads turned their way. Sophie felt instantly conspicuous in her sky-blue dress, like she was wearing a sign that read "Good Girl Breaking Rules." The vinyl booths were cracked in places, patched with silver duct tape that caught the overhead lights. A burly man in a trucker cap gave her an appraising look before returning to his coffee. In the corner booth, a group of leather-jacketed boys from the technical school across town played cards, cigarette smoke creating a hazy cloud above their heads. None of them wore pressed clothes or pearl earrings.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Student Council," drawled a raspy voice from behind the counter. The waitress—Doreen according to her name tag—had teased blonde hair and knowing eyes that seemed to see right through Sophie's façade. "Slumming it with us common folk tonight?"

Sophie felt her cheeks flush hot. "I—I just wanted a milkshake."

"We all want something, honey," Doreen replied with a wink, sliding three sticky menus across the counter.

Maggie, completely at ease, sauntered toward an empty booth. "C'mon, Sophie. Stop standing there like you're waiting for someone to check your hall pass."

Jimmy's hand found the small of Sophie's back, guiding her forward with a gentle pressure that sent electricity up her spine. "Don't mind Doreen," he murmured. "She gives everyone a hard time."

As they slid into the booth, Sophie noticed a girl about their age with jet-black hair and multiple ear piercings watching them from the counter. The girl's eyes locked with Sophie's, and her red-painted lips curled into something between a smirk and a sneer.

"That's Roxanne," Jimmy explained, following Sophie's gaze. "She's in my art class. Talented, but..."

"But what?" Sophie asked.

"Let's just say she's got reasons to be suspicious of anyone from our side of town."

The jukebox in the corner switched to a Janis Joplin song Sophie's mother would have called "inappropriate," its raw emotion filling the diner. Two mechanics still in their work clothes began arguing loudly about a carburetor, their voices carrying across the room.

"What can I getcha?" Doreen appeared at their table, pencil poised above her order pad, chewing gum with methodical precision.

"Three Blue Ribbon specials," Maggie ordered confidently. "And a basket of those chili fries everyone talks about."

"Comin' right up, princess," Doreen said, her eyes lingering on Sophie's pearl earrings.

When she walked away, Sophie whispered, "I feel like I'm wearing a costume to a party where everyone knows I don't belong."

"That's because you're still playing by their rules," Jimmy said, reaching across the table to touch her hand. His fingers were stained with ink, evidence of the poetry he was always scribbling. "Maybe tonight isn't about belonging. Maybe it's about figuring out who you are when no one's watching."

Sophie opened her mouth to respond to Jimmy when the rumble of an engine cut through the diner's ambient noise. It started as a distant growl, quickly growing to a thunderous roar that vibrated the silverware on their table. The jukebox seemed to fade into background noise as heads turned toward the large windows facing the parking lot. A single headlight sliced through the darkness, illuminating the lot in stark white light before coming to rest directly in front of the diner's entrance. The motorcycle's engine gave one final, defiant rev before falling silent.

"Oh hell," Jimmy muttered, his hand tensing on Sophie's.

The rider dismounted with fluid grace that suggested complete ownership of not just the machine, but the very space around him. Even from inside, Sophie could see his broad shoulders beneath a worn leather jacket, the confident tilt of his head as he removed his helmet. Blonde hair caught the neon glow of the diner sign, creating a halo effect that seemed almost deliberately ironic.

"Who is that?" Sophie whispered, though something in her already knew the answer.

"Austin Butler," Maggie breathed, a hint of both fear and fascination in her voice. "His family runs the Devil's Mark motorcycle club out past the quarry."

The diner's bell chimed again, this time with an ominous finality. Austin Butler stepped inside, scanning the room with electric blue eyes that took inventory of every person present. His gaze lingered for a moment on their booth, a slight curl forming at the corner of his mouth—not quite a smile, more like recognition of something interesting.

"Evening, Doreen," he called out, his voice surprisingly soft yet carrying the unmistakable weight of someone accustomed to being heard. "The usual."

"Coming right up, trouble," Doreen responded with none of the edge she'd directed at Sophie. Instead, there was something almost maternal in her tone.

The card game in the corner had paused, the players nodding respectfully as Austin passed. He returned the gesture with casual authority before sliding onto a stool at the counter, his back to the room yet somehow still commanding it.

"Aw hell," Jimmy said under his breath.

"What?" Sophie asked, even as she felt a strange electricity humming beneath her skin. "Is he dangerous?"

"Not exactly," Jimmy glanced nervously toward the counter. "But where Austin goes, the rest of the Devils usually follow. And they don't exactly appreciate people from our neighborhood in their territory."

"This is their territory?" Sophie's eyes widened. "It's just a diner."

"After midnight, it might as well be their clubhouse.”

Sophie watched as Roxanne slid off her stool and approached Austin, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Austin's gaze flicked up from Roxanne, looking directly at Sophie. The diner seemed to shrink around them as their eyes connected across the room. Everything else—the clatter of dishes, the murmur of voices, the hum of the refrigerator—faded to white noise. Sophie couldn't look away, caught in the gravity of those startlingly blue eyes that seemed to see right through her carefully constructed façade. A knowing half-smile played at the corner of his mouth, as if he recognized something in her that she herself hadn't yet discovered.

"He's looking at you," Maggie whispered, her voice tinged with equal parts excitement and alarm.

"He's not," Sophie replied automatically, though she hadn't broken the eye contact. She felt her cheeks flush warm, her heart drumming an unfamiliar rhythm against her ribs.

Jimmy cleared his throat loudly. "Can we focus on enjoying our night without worrying about the local criminal element?"

Doreen arrived with their milkshakes—towering concoctions of ice cream and whipped cream in frosted glasses—breaking the moment. Sophie lowered her eyes to the table, suddenly fascinated by the pattern of water rings on the laminate surface.

"Something wrong with your milkshake, honey?" Doreen asked, noticing Sophie's distraction.

"No, it's perfect," Sophie replied, taking a deliberate sip through her straw. The sweetness hit her tongue, momentarily grounding her back in reality.

***

The next hour passed in a blur of conversation and laughter that felt increasingly forced on Jimmy's part. Every few minutes, Sophie would feel the weight of Austin's gaze, and despite her best intentions, she'd find herself looking back. Each time, he'd be watching her with that same inscrutable expression, as if she were a puzzle he was piecing together from across the room.

"I need to use the ladies' room," Maggie announced suddenly, sliding out of the booth. She gave Sophie a meaningful look. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do while I'm gone."

"That leaves a pretty wide range of options," Sophie replied with a nervous laugh.

As soon as Maggie disappeared down the hallway, Jimmy shifted closer on the vinyl seat. "Finally, a moment alone," he said, his voice dropping to what he clearly thought was a romantic tone. His arm stretched across the back of the booth, fingers brushing Sophie's shoulder.

"We're hardly alone," Sophie pointed out, gesturing to the half-full diner.

"You know what I mean." Jimmy's hand moved from her shoulder to her hair, twirling a strand around his finger. "I've wanted to get you alone for months."

Sophie leaned away slightly. "Jimmy, I—"

"You know, I always thought you were too uptight," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "But sneaking out tonight? That shows there's more to Sophie Sutton than perfect grades and student council meetings." His hand dropped to her knee, warm and insistent. "I bet there's a lot you'd do if you just let yourself go a little."

"Jimmy, please," Sophie shifted away, uncomfortable with his sudden forwardness. "I'm not interested in—"

"Come on," he pressed, moving closer until she was trapped against the wall of the booth. "I know Maggie told you I would be here tonight. And you insisted on sitting in the front of the car with me. You sat next to me in this booth instead of with Maggie. Tell me you weren't looking for something more." His fingers tightened on her knee, inching higher along her thigh.

Sophie placed her hand firmly on his, stopping its progress. "I said no, Jimmy."

Across the room, Austin's posture changed subtly. Though his back was still to their booth, something in the set of his shoulders suggested heightened awareness. His head tilted slightly, like a predator catching a scent on the wind.

"Don't be such a prude," Jimmy whispered, frustration edging into his voice as he leaned closer. His breath smelled of chocolate and something sharper—had he been drinking? She hadn’t even noticed the scent in the car above the overpowering smell of pine. "Everyone knows good girls like you are just waiting for someone to break through that ice."

"I think you misunderstood why I came tonight," Sophie said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the panic building in her chest. She glanced toward the hallway, willing Maggie to return.

Jimmy's hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer. "No one's watching, Sophie. You can drop the perfect girl act."

"It's not an act," she insisted, pushing against his chest. "And I'd like you to stop."

"Just one kiss," he persisted, his grip tightening. "Then tell me you don't want more."

Before Sophie could respond, a shadow fell across their table. Jimmy froze, his expression shifting from determination to alarm as Austin Butler loomed over them, his presence filling the small space like a thundercloud.

"The lady said no," Austin stated quietly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of danger despite its conversational tone. "Twice, actually. I've been counting."

Jimmy's face flushed red. "This is none of your business, Butler."

Austin's smile didn't reach his eyes. "See, that's where you're wrong." He slid his hands into his pockets with casual menace. "When a girl says no in Mel's after midnight, it becomes my business."

"We were just talking," Jimmy protested, though his hand had already retreated from Sophie's waist.

"Didn't look like talking from where I was sitting." Austin's gaze shifted to Sophie, softening fractionally. "You okay?"

Sophie nodded, unable to find her voice under the intensity of those blue eyes. Up close, she could see a small scar bisecting his left eyebrow, giving his face an asymmetry that only enhanced its appeal.

"Good." Austin returned his attention to Jimmy. "I think it's time for you to switch seats. Give the lady some breathing room."

Jimmy glared at Austin, then back at Sophie, his jaw working with barely contained anger. The diner had gone quiet, all eyes on their booth.

"Fine," Jimmy finally spat, sliding out abruptly. "You want to play damsel in distress with a guy like him? Be my guest."

He stood, fishing his car keys from his pocket with trembling hands. "I'm not sticking around to get my face rearranged for a girl who can't make up her mind."

"Jimmy, wait—" Sophie started, suddenly aware of the predicament this would create.

Jimmy's voice had turned ugly. "Maybe he can give you a ride on his motorcycle. I'm sure Daddy would love that."

With that, he stormed toward the exit, shouldering past Maggie who was returning from the restroom.

"Jimmy? Where are you—" Maggie called after him, but the slam of the diner door cut her off. Through the windows, they watched him peel out of the parking lot, tires screeching against asphalt.

Maggie slid back into the booth, eyes wide. "What just happened?"

"Your date decided to bail," Austin said, still standing beside their table. "Left you ladies without a ride home."

Sophie felt the blood drain from her face. It was nearly one in the morning—her curfew deadline—and they were stranded miles from home. Her carefully orchestrated rebellion was spiraling into disaster.

"I can call my brother," Maggie suggested, though her expression betrayed her doubt. "Though he'll definitely tell my parents..."

Austin seemed to consider something, then turned toward the corner booth. "Hey, Ray," he called to one of the leather-jacketed card players. "Feel like a midnight escort mission?"

A muscular guy with a neatly trimmed beard looked up from his cards. "What'd you have in mind, boss?"

"These ladies need a ride home. Safe and sound, no detours."

Ray studied Sophie and Maggie for a moment, then nodded. "Sure thing." He collected his cards and stood, revealing his impressive height.

"I don't know..." Sophie hesitated, looking between Austin and Ray.

"Look," Austin said, his voice dropping so only she could hear. "You've got two options. Call your parents and explain why you're at Mel's after midnight, or let us get you home before anyone knows you were gone."

Sophie's green eyes locked with Austin's blue ones, searching for any sign of deception. Her brain ran through a dozen scenarios at once, each ending in disaster. But something in his steady gaze made her hesitate before rejecting his offer outright. "Why would you help us?" she asked quietly.

Austin's mouth quirked up at one corner. "Maybe I'm a sucker for damsels in distress."

"I'm not a damsel," Sophie replied automatically.

His smile widened, revealing a flash of perfect teeth. "Clearly." He leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping further. "Look, Princess, I don't make a habit of leaving girls stranded in the middle of the night. Even ones from the right side of the tracks."

Maggie tugged at Sophie's sleeve. "We should take the ride, Soph. My parents will kill me if they find out."

Sophie glanced at Ray, who stood patiently by the door, then back at Austin. "Just a ride home? No... detours?"

"Scout's honor," Austin said, raising two fingers in a mock salute that somehow suggested he'd never been anywhere near the Boy Scouts.

"Fine," Sophie conceded, reaching for her purse. "How much do we owe for the milkshakes?"

Austin waved her off. "On the house tonight. Right, Doreen?"

The waitress nodded from behind the counter. "Sure thing, honey. You girls get home safe now."

Outside, the night air had cooled considerably, raising goosebumps on Sophie's bare arms. Ray was already waiting beside his own motorcycle.

Austin walked to his motorcycle, a gleaming piece of machinery decorated with paintings of devils, skulls and fire. He pulled a helmet off one of his handlebars and handed it to Sophie. “Put that on.”

Sophie stared at the helmet, her fingers hesitating before making contact with the smooth surface. "Wait, I thought Ray was giving us a ride."

"Ray's taking your friend," Austin said, nodding toward Maggie who was already being helped onto the back of Ray's bike. "You're with me."

"I didn't agree to that," Sophie protested, but her voice lacked conviction even to her own ears.

Austin's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Would you prefer to walk? It's only about five miles."

Sophie glanced at her watch—12:47. Her window of plausible deniability was closing fast. "I don't even know you."

"Sure you do. Austin Butler. I sit behind you in assembly every Thursday. You give those speeches about school spirit and community service." He swung his leg over the motorcycle with effortless grace. "You never look back at the last row, but we're there."

The fact that he'd noticed her, had been watching her all this time while remaining invisible to her, sent an unexpected thrill through Sophie's body.

"Come on, Princess. Decision time." He patted the seat behind him. "Your reputation or your curfew. Which matters more tonight?"

Sophie took a deep breath and put on the helmet, adjusting it over her carefully styled hair. The weight of it felt foreign, like a crown made of different metal than she was used to wearing.

"Hold tight," Austin instructed as she awkwardly mounted the bike behind him, her dress riding up despite her attempts to keep it modest. "And I mean tight. This isn't like riding in Daddy's Cadillac."

Sophie cautiously placed her hands on his sides, barely making contact. Austin laughed, the sound vibrating through his back. He reached behind and grabbed her wrists, pulling her arms all the way around his waist until she was pressed against him, her chest flush against his back.

"That's better," he said, and Sophie was grateful the helmet hid her burning cheeks.

The motorcycle roared to life beneath them, a primal vibration that traveled up through Sophie's body, settling somewhere deep and unfamiliar. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Ray and Maggie following close behind, Sophie instinctively tightened her grip around Austin's waist. The town blurred past them, transformed by speed and moonlight into something magical and forbidden. Wind whipped at her dress, and Sophie found herself not caring about the state of her hair or whether her hemline was appropriate. The exhilaration of movement, of freedom, overwhelmed everything else.

Austin took a corner faster than necessary, causing Sophie to press even closer against him. She could feel the solid planes of his body, smell the leather of his jacket mixed with something distinctly male. Nothing in her carefully ordered life had prepared her for this—the raw physicality of being pressed against a stranger, trusting him with her safety while breaking every rule she'd been raised to follow. They reached the edge of Sophie's neighborhood far too quickly. Austin slowed the motorcycle to a quiet purr, rolling to a stop at the corner where Jimmy had picked them up hours earlier. It felt like days had passed rather than mere hours—as if she'd crossed some invisible boundary in her life with no possibility of return.

"Which house?" Austin asked, his voice low enough not to carry in the silent street.

Sophie pointed toward the white colonial three doors down. "The one with the trellis."

Austin's eyebrows raised slightly. "The trellis, huh? Didn't figure you for the Romeo and Juliet type."

"I'm not," Sophie said quickly, then hesitated. "Well, I wasn't. Until tonight."

He killed the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening after the constant rumble. Behind them, Ray pulled up with Maggie, who dismounted with surprising agility for someone who'd never been on a motorcycle before.

"That was amazing!" Maggie whispered, eyes bright with excitement. "We should do this every Tuesday!"

Sophie shot her a warning look before carefully swinging her leg over the bike, mindful of her dress. The world felt strangely still after the speed and vibration, as if her body was still moving while the ground remained stationary. "Thanks for the ride," she said, removing the helmet and handing it to Austin. Her hair tumbled down in wild disarray, freed from its usual perfect styling.

Austin didn't immediately take the helmet. Instead, he studied her face with an intensity that made her breath catch. "You know, you look different when you're not trying so hard."

"Different how?" Sophie asked before she could stop herself.

"Real." The word hung between them, simple yet profound.

Ray cleared his throat. "We should roll out, boss. Patrol car's been making rounds near the park."

Austin nodded, finally accepting the helmet from Sophie's hands. Their fingers brushed, the brief contact sending an electric current up her arm. "You should get inside, Princess. Wouldn't want to push your luck on your first night of rebellion."

"It's not my first," Sophie found herself saying, though it absolutely was.

Austin's smile was knowing. "No? Then maybe I'll see you around the next time you decide to break the rules."

Before she could respond, he kickstarted the motorcycle back to life. With a casual salute that somehow managed to be both mocking and respectful, he and Ray pulled away from the curb, their engines gradually fading into the night.

Stay tuned for part 2!! Click HERE to view!

[petermorwood]

"Quality Street" sweets - TIL that...

...despite this particular brand of sweets appearing in my childhood most often at Christmas, historic costumes worn by characters on the tins were NOT a part of the widespread "Dickensian Christmas" look which appeared so often on cards and packaging.

Instead it's because the characters and their Regency costumes were inspired by a play by "Peter Pan" author J. M. Barrie.

The play was called "Quality Street".

And the tins are collectibles.

*****

A Christmas-related appearance of the sweets was mostly coincidental, though the empty tin from one year did often appear at the next, full of home-made mince pies or even an entire Christmas cake.

Large, fairly airtight tins are useful that way, especially at trapping the spirituous exhalations of cakes made in mid-September and "fed" weekly thereafter with spoonfuls of brandy, or whiskey, or rum (sometimes all three, alternated) until it was time for the armour-plating of marzipan and royal icing to go on.

It used to be a common belief at home that opening the tin containing an un-iced cake near a naked flame at any time after mid-November was more than the opener's eyebrows were worth.

The eyebrow thing never happened, because it was one of those family fables, but I do remember bringing one such Quality Street tin down to Anne McCaffrey's house when I'd been invited to stay.

It contained not a Christmas cake but one of Mum's famed Chocolate Gateaux of Doom (my name for it, not hers), made specially for that visit and whose recipe, what with the plain-chocolate sponge cake and the apricot-cream filling and the double-chocolate ganache icing, required most of a bottle of cognac.

Since this cake didn't have the sealant-and-spackle cladding of marzipan and royal icing, it also required refrigeration to "keep it calm". My car didn't even have air conditioning, so in transit the cake got quite, er, excitable.

How excitable, we soon found out.

When Annie's stable manager sauntered over and popped the lid, expecting to find some nice Quality Street choccies, she was instead hit in the face by a near-visible cloud of booze vapour (a gin-ie, perhaps, even though no gin was involved) and reeled back with a cry of "Jaysuz, does yer mother own a feckin' distillery?"

Had she been smoking one of her habitual thin roll-ups at the time, our family fable might have been proved true after all...

:->

[softgreengrass]

The Gold

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: angst, au where clint dies on vormir instead of natasha, set a few months after endgame, relationship troubles😬

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: survivor’s guilt, breakup

Author’s Note: based on “the gold” by manchester orchestra and phoebe bridgers

You wake to birds chirping. Natasha has opened the window. She’s nowhere to be seen, probably in the kitchen or out for a run. All at once, a crushing melancholy falls onto your chest, the one that’s been appearing with increasing frequency ever since she returned.

She hadn’t wanted to come back; anyone could see that. She wished she was dead instead of Clint, instead of Tony. And she meant it. She wanted to be dead.

Because of that, it had never felt like a victory to you. You knew the others agreed —Wanda, Peter, Bucky— but that didn’t make it much easier.

Even the things Thanos hadn’t taken, he had changed.

You get up slowly, all too aware of the lump in your throat and the fragility of your heart. If Natasha so much as looks at you wrong this morning, you’ll lose it. Again.

You know she’s tired of it, of your mood swings and sensitivity, but it all stems from her and she knows that too. Those first few weeks after her return had set a certain tone.

Natasha is standing at the kitchen counter, staring at the coffee pot. You know why instantly. You always do.

“I forgot how he used to drink straight from this,” she murmurs.

“I know.”

You’ve grown used to Natasha’s blank stare: it doesn’t twist your heart the way it used to. Some days you think she found your biggest store of sympathy and dried it all up. You shuffle past her, open the freezer, and pull out hash browns.

“I was going to visit Laura today,” she says numbly.

“You visited her yesterday, baby,” you say, glancing up at her as you dump the hash browns onto a pan. “I think she’s okay for today.”

Natasha swallows. You can see the pain in her eyes, the sinkhole of regret. “I don’t have any other plans.”

“You could stay home with me.”

Your tone is neutral, but you know she picks up on the hope in it. And you can feel the distance that grows between you the longer she takes to answer.

“Come on, Nat,” you smile, like your eyes aren’t already stinging with tears.

“I want to be useful,” she pleads. “I… you’re too good to me here. I can’t be useful.”

It takes you a second to process what on earth she could possibly mean. Natasha stands quietly.

In another life, you could’ve said the words on your tongue. Could’ve told her that you need her like water, that the most useful thing she could possibly do is just be with you. But you know you can survive without her. At this point she must know that too.

And yet, there’s something yearning in her eyes, like she has faith in you.

The hash browns crackle and give you an excuse to look at them instead of her.

Somewhere deep inside of you, you know Natasha has always been fine without you. She doesn’t love you in the way you love her, in the way that would summon sympathy and energy out of thin air. She used to, maybe. It’s all bitter on your tongue.

She clears her throat. “I got an email. Apparently they want to give us medals.“

“You brought back half the universe. The least you deserve is a medal.”

You know what she wants to say to that. The silence is frustrated and thick, the lump in your throat quickly returning. You hate that nothing is easy anymore.

“I’m going to Laura’s,” she says eventually.

You can’t find it in you to respond; you can barely make yourself nod. The oil on the pan bubbles and spatters violently, and you realize that’s how your blood feels, singing your arteries and your veins and your heart.

When the door closes behind her, you close your eyes.

Your dad’s face comes to mind. “Don’t open your eyes for a while,” he used to say, his voice gravelly but gentle. “Just breathe that moment down.”

It had helped, especially in your teenage years when you were quick to anger and quicker to hurt. Regret used to swallow you whole. You had told Natasha that once, years ago, when you visited his grave together for the first time. She had been polite.

You don’t want to resent her. God, how you don’t. But the past couple of months have worn you down to the bone, and it would be one thing if she was fighting too, but she gave up on that cliff. You don’t know how much longer you can do all the caring for.

And it’s not like your relationship was perfect before, either. You had met her at a high point. It had always been a steady decline.

A hard wave of guilt nearly knocks the breath out of you, and you have to grip the counter to keep your balance. You love her. You’ll fight for as long as you can.

You eat the burnt hash browns right out of the pan, even though you don’t feel hungry.

By ten, Natasha still hasn’t come home, and you’re back in bed, blinking back more tears, since that feels like all you do nowadays. Now accompanying the gloom and guilt in your ribcage is an unrelenting discomfort. It’s that same old helpless feeling, the one that knows things are going to change and there’s nothing you can do about it.

The vertigo of it all rocks you to sleep.

You make it another week before one of Natasha’s nightmares wakes you up and you’re so full of discontent you can’t breathe. Still, you swallow it down and find her hand in the dark.

“Nat, you’re right here,” you whisper.

A squeeze of her hand and she opens her eyes, frantically looking around.

“It was just a dream.”

Wild eyes find your own; a sheen of sweat coats her face. Her breath heaves. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” The words burn in your throat. How many times will you have to tell her that?

Her head falls back against the pillow with a sigh.

Your eyes ache for sleep, but then there it is again, that realization that soon you might never be in bed with her again. You’re not sure how to appreciate it fully.

“Are you hungry?” she asks coarsely, staring up at the ceiling.

You’re not. “I could eat.”

She smears peanut butter onto toast into the kitchen, gives the first one to you. It must be the millionth time the two of you have been in the kitchen together, dark circles under your eyes and hair frizzy.

“You know I wish none of that ever happened,” Natasha says softly.

“Of course,” you furrow your brow. “I wish it didn’t either.”

“No, I mean,” she huffs. “I wish we didn’t change. I wish I didn’t change.”

It’s like something has pierced your heart. You can’t find anything to say to comfort her, because you wish that just as much as she does.

“I don’t want you to go,” she admits, her bottom lip quivering. “But I don’t want to hold you back just because I’m stuck.”

“Nat…”

She swallows thickly. “It’s your choice.”

You hate that you already know your answer, that you’ve known it for so long. You hate it.

Your arms wrap around her tightly as you take in her softness and her scent again. Her cheek is damp against your shoulder, your own eyes welling with relentless tears.

It feels like stiff fingers prodding at your throat and your chest: it makes you want to curl into a ball. You’re horrified at the idea of a life without her, especially one where you know she’s still walking around. But it’s either drown or freefall, and you need to give yourself a chance.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you mutter into her neck.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m sorry too.”

She holds you as wave after wave of bittersweet relief and regret crash over you, and you fall asleep in each other’s arms once more. The next morning she helps you gather your things.

[justpan]

Title: Unwilling Bride (Finale!!!)

Summary: Will Peter win his last game with (Y/N)?

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33

Felix was always a very simple guy to understand, he had simple morals and simple needs; in conclusion to being simply understood he was also very intense.

Intense in all his actions and beliefs.

That was why he was Pan’s right hand man, he believed in Pan as if he were a God made of flesh. Pan had gotten Rufio, his very first and very best friend killed, but even if Felix never forgave Pan for not avenging his friend he would always be loyal. Because Pan had saved him, saved him from starving and rotting in the streets of Oz.

So even now, as the Lost Boys were beginning to complain of hunger pains just like the boys in the orphanage, Felix would follow Pan’s orders.

One last game.

Felix didn’t like the phrase his leader had used when he first began to lay out his plan, or at least the part of the plan he wanted to share. Pan almost never fully divulged his plans to anyone other than his own speechless shadow.

He had been given very specific directions to the cottage that (Y/N) called home and as he trudged his way through the forest his heart was heavy.

(Y/N) had been his friend, she had been Rufio’s love and now he was on a mission that made him work against his own personal wishes.

Just as Pan promised the cottage was there in a clearing and (Y/N) was right there in front of it, she had a bow and arrow and appeared to be training her aim by trying to hit leaves as they fell from dying trees.

‘Getting a bit slow there Mother.’ he said as he entered the clearing, being sure to keep his hands up and his palms exposed as he approached.

As expected she turned with frightening speed and aimed her arrow directly at him and her eyes were hard.

‘Felix, been a while.’ she said.

‘Ten or eleven years, not too long I think.’ he said casually, still keeping his hands up.

‘Why are you here, Felix? I know you didn’t find this place alone, what instructions did Pan give you?’ she said quickly, keeping her weapon raised.

‘No instruction, I’m not here to fight you, I just have a message. What you do with that message is up to you entirely.’

She looked untrusting but her curiosity had clearly been peaked by the prospects of a message from the one person on her hit list.

‘What message?’

‘He wants to see you, face to face on Skull Rock. I don’t know his plan past getting you there. I swear that to you.’

‘I believe you Felix, Pan doesn’t tell anyone anything.’ she sighed as she lowered the bow.

‘He does miss you though, he doesn’t need to tell anyone that. It shows in his every move, we all miss you at camp.’

‘Does he miss Rufio? Does he even speak about him?’ (Y/N) asked sharply.

Felix looked down and was surprised by the speed in which (Y/N) had reached his side.

‘I’m sorry, I was taking out my anger for Pan on you and it was wrong. I know you lost a friend in Rufio’s murder the same as I lost a love.’

‘I did, and we have lost so much since.’

At his words he saw her eyebrows come together in worry and confusion.

‘Come inside, we will talk more there. You can tell me how my boys are.’ she said as she led him towards her home.

‘I can tell you that now, they are all hungry and miserable.’ Felix said as he followed.

(Y/N) opened her door and let in her first ever guest.

Felix glanced around with at least mild interest in the modern setting he found himself in, but he was clearly searching for something.

‘Where is the kitchen? Is there food?’ Felix asked.

 (Y/N) pointed to the kitchen door and followed behind Felix.

‘I’ll start you off with a sandwich but I’ll make a full dinner for you too, enough for you to take back to camp.’

‘A sign of good faith?’ he asked as he sat at the table and watched you move around the kitchen.

‘Concerned friend, I told you I had no grudges with you all; I would never make any of you choose between me and Pan. I will help you all whenever you need me, but I will have nothing to do with him. I will not see him on peaceful terms, the second he is in my sight I’m going to kill him.’ 

‘Then don’t look at him, but he needs to speak with you. I will not return to camp until you agree. I complete my task every time without fail.’ Felix said seriously as he dug into the sandwich that was placed in front of him.

‘I know your commitment to following Pan’s orders but this time he gave you an impossible task, I will not meet him for any reason in this world or the next. If he has information that he thinks is vital to me then he can send you with that message, other than that I will have no communication with him.’ (Y/N) said firmly as she went about cooking a large pot of beef stew.

Felix watched her move her hands elegantly around as she summoned ingredients from thin air.

It had been so long since Peter had performed any magic for the camp that Felix almost looked amazed.

“Keep your mask up Felix, she must not see through you.” Pan’s voice rang in his mind and he kept his face indifferent.

She began to chop the vegetables and a mild uncomfortable silence settled in on the pair of reunited friends.

‘What has been happening at camp?’ (Y/N) asked, breaking the silence.

‘There are no animals for us to hunt, and we certainly aren’t getting our pirate supply anymore. The island is living on borrowed time, I’d say we have less than a year before it’s inhabitable.’

He watched tensely as she stilled her movements and processed the bad news he had delivered, it was obvious that things were going just as Pan was hoping.

She would battle her hate for him with her love for the Lost Boys and because she was good the love would win.

With a large and visibly fuming sigh she threw up her hands in defeat.

‘When?’

‘As soon as you can get there, he’s there now waiting for you. I urged him to bring provisions but he refused, he can go longer than most without food but not forever (Y/N).’

She scoffed and went back to her cooking and conjuring and began to gripe the same way she always had in Felix’s company.

‘If he thinks threatening to starve himself will push me to hurry then that’s his mistake. He can rot for all I care.’ she hissed as her movements became less graceful and more aggressive.

‘I will get there at my own pace.’ she said firmly.

And not surprising, to Felix at least, she stuck to her words and cooked for nearly four more hours. While she waited on the food to get ready she made more and more sandwiches.

Felix did his best to keep their conversations as pleasant as they always had been back when the boys spoke of the infamous “Happily Ever After” finally making its way to Neverland. 

He gave her all the gossip that he’d thought she’d have found entertaining and she told him how she stayed sane all by herself out here.

It was only after she had been reduced to showing him her crafting projects that she gave in to the fact that she had no other reason to procrastinate her meeting with Pan.

‘Take the whole pot I enchanted it to stay full no matter how much you take out. It should last a few days. Tell the boys not to fight over it.’ she directed.

Felix took the pot and held it with both hands.

‘Thank you; I don’t know what Pan is planning and I don’t have the mind to guess what the outcome could be, but thank you. You were more than a mother to me, you were a friend…the only one I have left now.’ Felix said before his common sense could shut his mouth.

‘You were my best friend too Felix.’ (Y/N) said back, but her face was already beginning to show suspicion.

Soon (Y/F/C) smoke engulfed his body, when it cleared he was back at the camp and just that fast the boys were swarming the pot he was holding.

Back at your little cottage you stared at the spot where Felix had been mere seconds ago, distrust still written all over your face.

Felix was your best friend, and he knew more than he claimed he did; and whatever he knew he didn’t like it.

Sure he kept his mask on the whole visit and that was how you knew something was up, because when he actually relaxes Felix is an open book.

Pan was planning something, but it didn’t matter; you promised to kill him and you meant to keep that promise.

Deciding it was better to get this done quickly, you quickly transported yourself to the cave on Skull Rock.

It had been decades…maybe even centuries, but it was just as it had been the first and only other time you’d ever seen it. The same skull shaped stones and the same giant hourglass.

The hourglass was the only thing that showed any sign of time passing at all here, it had been about half full when she first saw it but now it was getting very close to empty.

Almost entranced by it you stepped closer to it, looking at your reflection in the curved glass, you took in the details of the hourglass. Its golden carvings and the unnatural light it gave off in the complete darkness of the cave.

 This hourglass ruined your life.

This stupid fucking hourglass that was the hellish timer of Peter Pan’s life, the fucking hourglass he used your love to refill.

‘Of course it all ends up here.’ you scoffed to herself.

It all started here didn’t it? Pan wanted to live forever and to do that he needed strong undying magic, and love is the strongest magic in all the classic fairy tales. He snatched you, an unloved military brat with no friends and no real social skills away from your home to use your feelings.

Feelings he always knew would arise in you, no matter how you looked at it you had been used and manipulated by Peter since the very moment you had met him. It was Stockholm syndrome outright.

He’d kidnapped you and made you love him.

Movement in the reflection of the glass made you snap out of your own head long enough to see that Peter was on the other side of the hourglass, watching you through the glass.

‘I’m glad you came.’ he greeted.

‘I came to kill you.’ you said coldly as you conjured a sleek and sharp dagger into your hand.

‘I know, but you said you’d kill me if you saw me again. All I see is glass.’

‘The glass is see-through.’ you said as you began to walk around the hourglass.

‘And once I walk around I’m going to see you directly.’ you continued.

‘I was hoping we could have this chat without the old trying to kill me game.’ Peter said as he began walking as well, keeping a pace that kept him out of your direct view while keeping eye contact through the glass.

‘I thought Peter Pan loved games.’ you snarled.

‘He does…but I am not Peter Pan.’ 

At that you finally stopped circling the hourglass.

‘What?’

‘This is the last game I want to play with you. This last real game I can truly control, win or lose. It’s going to be a game where you make a decision after I tell you something.’

‘What will you tell me?’

‘Everything, and after if you don’t want to stay by my side I will grant you safe passage off the island…before it is too late.’

For a long moment it was quiet as you thought over what Pan had offered.

An explanation, and a choice. Two things that could do nothing to change or justify what had happened but you had craved those things so long you couldn’t imagine turning either of them down.

‘Who are you if you’re not Peter Pan?’ you finally asked.

You watch the boy on the other side of the glass visibly sigh in relief.

‘My name was Malcolm, when I was a boy I would dream of flying in Neverland. This island was the most beautiful and perfect place to be. I would cry all day in anger at being away from it, but I got older and suddenly I couldn’t come back.’ He started, his eyes leaving yours for the first time as he looked at the opening of the cave dreamily at the grim island.

‘If you had seen it then, when the pixies still tended the tree and everyone could fly for as long as they wanted…to lose it overnight. I couldn’t stay a boy forever and the island isn’t too fond of grown ups. I was miserable in adulthood.’

Adulthood? 

‘I drank, I stole, I gambled…I had a child.’ he continued.

‘You have a kid?!’ you gasped out right, unable to mask your surprise.

Peter, or should you call him Malcolm, nodded in shame.

‘A son, a little runt that always needed something that I had to do heinous things to provide. Following after me whenever I went to do anything for myself…like a vulture coming to feast on the corpse of my life.’ he snarled.

This time you flinched at the amount of hate and revulsion that came out in the way Peter said those words. It wasn’t him being dramatic or overly emotional, he genuinely had hate for his son.

‘But my son did do one good thing for me in the end…not by choice of course. He was my ticket back to this place.’ he said as his reflection blurred through the glass.

You watched in near horror as Peter aged before your very eyes. He was no longer the blonde boy you were once so attracted to or even the demon boy who had watched Rufio’s killer walk free.

You couldn’t stand it, you needed to see it clearly. Before you could stop yourself you were running around the hourglass to finally see him head on, but the second you met his eyes your feet were nailed to the cave floor.

He was a man now, a middle aged man with a hairline that was beginning to recede and a beard that was graying.

His clothes seemed to have aged as well, they were suddenly ragged and the color faded in random places as if they had been worn long past their best days.

‘This is the man who chose to trade his son for eternal life and youth, the man…’ the man stopped as if he was fighting against the words trying to come out of his mouth.

‘The man who is terrified of growing old and dying, above all else I don’t want to die (Y/N).’ the old man said, looking pleadingly into your eyes.

It was in that instant you saw him in those eyes, Peter’s eyes.

How many times had you gotten lost in those eyes while the two of you practiced your magic, or while you laid next to each other in bed.

‘I know that you hate me…I know I deserve your hate, but please understand that I never wanted any harm or hardship to come to you. You were everything to me from the second I met you, hell even before that.’

‘Why? Why me? Why was I the one you chose to love?’

The old man reached into his raggedy pants pocket and pulled out an ancient looking folded parchment and handed it to you.

‘I drew this when I was sixteen, truly just a sixteen year old boy in the Enchanted Forest, I used to draw in the daytime when I had no chores. No one modeled for me and I had no inspirational muse in my mind, but I drew this.’

You looked at him as you took the parchment, studying him now that he was this close; it felt so…wrong. This was wrong, this old man couldn’t possibly be Peter Pan, Peter couldn’t be this man. This man was old and heavyset, he even smelled older.

You turned from him, choosing to inspect the drawing he’d handed you instead, unfolding it carefully as to not rip the fragile old thing. Once it was fully spread out you found yourself looking down at your own face sketched almost perfectly in thick charcoal lines.

‘What the hell?’ you gasped.

‘Being a gambler, and a pretty bad one at that, I couldn’t hold on to many personal belongings. For some unknown reason I could never part from that drawing, I traveled with it, I kept it in my hidden pockets when I slept. Even when I jumped into the portal that brought me back to this island with my son this drawing was in my boot.’ Malcolm started to explain.

‘Imagine my surprise when I went to the shadow and asked if there was a way to keep the hourglass forever full, only for it to tell me that it had answered that question a long time ago.’ he finished.

‘You’re talking destiny and- and written in stars type of nonsense.’ you said in disbelief.

‘How did you find me? If all you had was this drawing, how did you find my house in Texas?’ you questioned.

The old man let out a breath of unamused laughter.

‘I wondered how I would find you too for a long while, but thankfully you made it easier.’

‘How?’

‘You felt unloved. That’s the easiest thing for the shadow to find, it had a large area to search; a lot of realms, but it found you. When I first saw you on the beach it felt surreal, like meeting an imaginary friend in the flesh. Of course the girl you turned out to be was not the meek little thing I had imagined, you were far better than I could have dreamed and I loved you more than I knew how to.’ He answered.

Your head was spinning, all of it was too much for you to process. The most inconvenient thing you’d had to deal with for the last few years was unsuccessful art projects, now you were looking at past memories and wondering how much of it was prophesied.

‘I need you, (Y/N). Beyond that I love you, and if you will have me then everything will be as it was. You and me, the camp, the Lost Boys, the mag-’

‘Rufio? Will he be as he was?’ you interrupted, your head suddenly clearing.

‘I could have forgiven the divorce, I could have forgiven a broken heart and tear soaked pillows; but I will never forgive that. I won’t forgive you letting them go, no matter who you are. Peter, Pan or Malcolm, Rufio put his life on the line for you and he lost it.’ you said looking up at him through watery eyes.

‘I couldn’t avenge him, and I regret that but I need Wendy alive, we could live without the extra food, but without her the plan would have fallen apart. I have to keep this island alive (Y/N), I have to. I can’t do that without either your love or the heart of the Truest Believer; I want to do it with you and with love. I don’t want to do it by ripping out my great grandson’s heart.’ Malcolm tried desperately to explain.

‘Your great grandson? He is the Truest Believer?’ you gasped in astonishment.

Peter had never told you the full details of his back up plan to keep the glass full after he’d ended things, and in all honesty you hadn’t wanted to know. You never imagined he had to spill blood; you never dreamed it would be his own blood he would have to spill.

Then again you never thought he had any blood to spill to begin. 

You had met him as a teenage boy on a make believe island where time stood still. Why would you think he had a child? That the child had a grandchild he has been willing to kill this whole time?

‘Yes, he is the product of light and dark magic and he believes twice as hard as anyone else because of it. He is the back up plan; with his heart in my chest the glass will never empty, the magic will be strong again.’

‘And your great grandson would be what exactly? Roaming around the island with no heart in his chest!’ you yelled in sudden frustration.

‘My God! Even now! Here and now, as you are pleading with me to come back you are willing to kill another innocent boy! I don’t want to be near you Peter or Malcolm or anyone who is willing to watch others die for their own gain!’

‘I never claimed to be a saint.’ Malcolm replied.

‘You claimed to be the leader of the Lost Boys!’ you screamed in a rage as literal decades of frustration boiled over.

‘A leader they followed and respected! They followed you into battle without hesitation because they were thankful for the home you provided! They followed you, Rufio followed you! You put your stupid plan before the lives of every boy at camp! A plan you never would have needed if you had just had the sense to speak openly with me!’ you shouted as hot tears streamed your cheeks and a lump formed in your throat.

‘If you had just been-I never would have loved him! I wouldn’t see him bloody and broken in my dreams every night.’ you said around sobs as you tried uselessly to wipe away your tears.

‘(Y/N).’ 

It was Peter’s voice.

You looked back up at him and took in his face, the same boy you met on that beach.

He reached out to touch you, but you backed away, remembering the old man he really was.

‘Don’t.’ you said firmly.

‘I loved you Peter, the hourglass was full, the magic was strong; you ruined it. You dragged me here like a mythical monster, made me fall in love with a lie and broke my heart. Now you are considering killing your own family to do what I had already done for you, what good man does that?’

‘I am not a man (Y/N), I was never meant to be. I am Peter Pan the boy who can never grow up, that is who I am. Malcolm, that disgusting old man was just what time wants to turn me into and I hate him. I hate him and his life and responsibilities, all I care for is-’

‘You. All you care about is you Peter Pan…and I didn’t know that until right now.’ you interrupted.

‘Please, all I care for is the home I have created with you at my side. Just allow me the opportunity to regain your trust and love.’

‘No; you lose this game Peter.’ you declared.

A look of stunned horror crossed Peter’s eyes as the words hit his ears.

‘I was unloved at home, I can admit that; but I know what love is and what it isn’t. It’s not lying, it’s talking to each other about the future, it’s trusting someone with all your secrets and dreams. You didn’t trust me then, and I don’t trust you now.’ you continued.

‘You promised safe passage off the island if I didn’t come back to you. I want to go home.’

In the magical light of the hourglass you saw a lone tear slide down Peter’s face, but then the watery eyes hardened.

‘You would leave?’

‘Even if your horrific plan plays out the way you want, why should I stay? I’m not coming back to camp and I’m not coming back to you. I had the best times here once, and with time standing still I thought the best times would never end, but they did. They ended when you ended us, new good times came with Rufio…and that time has ended too.’ you replied with finality.

‘There can be better times!’ Peter shouted, seeming to finally lose his composure.

‘You would leave this paradise?! Leave the magic you’ve mastered, the Lost Boys?! Me!?’ he raged.

‘Yes, and you shouldn’t have offered me a way out if you weren’t ready for me to take it. You’ve made a promise and I expect you to keep it…unless your word is meaningless.’

‘Don’t test me! I’ve broken promises a plenty (Y/N).’

‘If you don’t keep this one, I will make good on my promise to you.’ you said, holding up your dagger and pointing at him.

Peter took a deep breath and let out a sigh that sounded so tired only an old man could have let it out.

‘Fine.’ he said angrily as he reached into his pocket.

He pulled out something small and glowing green.

‘A magic bean, rare in every other realm; but I had sent my shadow to retrieve one as soon as I mastered my magic. He found one and I planted it; these beans are how I physically travel from realm to realm at ease.’

‘Magic beans? Like Jack and the Beanstalk?’ you asked with mild doubt.

‘Take it, think about where you want to be and how it makes you feel. Once you have it, throw it on the floor and jump in before the portal closes.’ Peter instructed, his tone rough and impersonal as he offered the bean to you.

With caution you took the bean and examined it, it was certainly not an edible bean. It felt like a smooth crystal between your fingers and appeared to be completely clear aside from  the swirling green smoke that was inside of it.

‘Just think happy thoughts.’ you said under your breath, remembering the old Disney movie.

‘Were you truly so unhappy? Even if you don’t come back to me or camp. Why not stay in that cottage, why do you have to leave? I can still fix this.’ Peter tried again, this time the desperation poured out of his voice.

‘How can you fix it? By fixing the island, by killing your family? The fact that that is even an option to you is why I have to leave. I can’t stay here if I know an innocent boy had to be butchered for it.’

‘Then come back, don’t make me kill him.’ Peter begged, taking hold of your face as tears again filled his eyes.

‘God, do you hear yourself? If you really don’t want to then don’t, but don’t pin that decision on me. It's your beloved island, it’s your family and your choice to make. As much as I’d wish you’d make the right one, I know that you won’t; but I’ve already made mine.’ you said as you stepped away from him.

‘(Y/N) please… I love you. You felt it in every kiss we shared. I don’t want you to leave the island, if you do I may never be able to find you again.’

‘Could you come with me then? If it is really my love that is important to you, and not just the hourglass.’ you offered bitterly.

You knew the answer, but when Peter couldn’t even meet your eyes you scoffed in disappointment and disgust.

You put a good amount of distance between yourself and Peter and looked him in the eyes as you threw down the bean.

As soon as you heard the soft thud of the bean hitting the stone floor a glowing green soft ball size hole appeared. It seemed to suck the very air into itself because suddenly it felt as though you were being pulled into a black hole.

As the wind seemed to grow stronger the hole was widening.

‘(Y/N)!’ Peter yelled over the rushing winds and the crackling noise of strong magic.

‘It doesn’t have to be this way!’

‘It didn’t!’ you agreed, speaking to him for the last time.

With your breath held and your eyes closed you bent your knees and jumped into the glowing green portal.

It felt like jumping into a freezing cold pool but you were sure there was no water, you looked up at the opening of the portal and saw Peter.

He stood there at the edge, looking at you disappear; even now he still chose his island and power over you. 

Soon the opening began to shrink, and before you knew it Peter was gone. 

The horrible cold went on for a few more seconds before she was suddenly slammed onto something soft, but the landing was so hard it left you winded.

You gasped and coughed as you tried to catch your breath.

As your breathing steadied you began taking in your surroundings.

You were in bed, in your old room back in Texas. Everything was just as it always was. Posters of your favorite  musicians on the walls, laundry hamper in the corner by the computer desk. Military school paraphernalia decorating the bookshelf.

‘I’m really home.’ you gasped as you sat up.

‘(Y/N)!’ 

You hadn’t heard the voice in what must have been a century at least, but you recognized it even before the door was nearly ripped off the hinges.

‘Sargent!’ you said, instinctively standing and saluting.

But to your absolute surprise he did not reply, at least not verbally.

For what felt like the first time your father wrapped his arms around you in an honest to God hug. Not just a hand on your shoulder or a pat on the back while delivering an award, a real bone crushing hug of a worried father.

‘We were so worried. It’s been months, we’ve been looking for you.’

‘I’m sorry…Dad I didn’t think you would worry.’ you apologized as you returned the hug.

‘Your mother is still putting out your missing flyers, dammit girl where have you been?’ your dad asked as he looked you over for injuries.

That was when it all sank in, you were home, your parents had cared; if they loved you here, Pan would never be able to find you again.

No more Neverland, no more magic, no campfire dancing; the realization of it making her cry that much harder. It was all over.

‘I was in the wrong place…I was with the wrong person.’