[SO. SO. SO. I need to be more active here but also in real life and thus I am conflicted. BLEH.]

+ shortforflamethrower
+ merlily

"Don’t think I’ve ever seen your faces before. Names?"


It’s Christmas eve!

 and still unsure of what exactly this ‘Christmas’ thing is.

[I’m still here guys. I just might have to take a mini-hiatus for a little while. It’s not official but if and when I do take one I’ll let you know.]


[Bleh, I have to go the bed, sleeping to do and such. Hello to my new followers and good night!]

[Adding to this because it’s me and I can. I have drama rehearsals until god knows when tomorrow. More importantly though, John and I are bounding as are respective characters tomorrow. I WILL POST PICS.]

[So, I had a conversation with John today about how unnatural it felt to have Peter tell Wendy he loved her. It’s the truth, he does love her, but he has absolutely no understanding of what the word means because the only time he’s ever felt truly loved is by Wendy and even that isn’t love exactly. -goingtoleaveoutpeterssevereabandonmentissuesdiscussion- This is just a very difficult magic anon, guise. Why did I accept it? Brain is hurting because it’s unsure how to write these things without killing the concept of Peter Pan as a whole.]

The Newest Lost Boy — Wendy&John



John didn’t really know what to do or say right now, he had never been very good with emotions. That was probably why he didn’t have many friends back home. Hearing all these things, well emotions from Peter and his sister made him extremely uncomfortable.

He didn’t really understand the significance of Wendy giving Peter the acorn or Peter giving Wendy the thimble. He was pretty sure that they referred to the things as kisses but he knew what a kiss was—he had seen mother give on to father—and those things were not a kiss.

“Uh, Peter. How about I leave you and my sister to talk this out? I’ll go find Slightly or Tootles, maybe even go keep Tiger Lily company.” John stammered as he slowly began to back out of the room.

Watching curiously as he scurried off to obtain the cigar box that Wendy had seen various times before, the girl tilted her head with wonder as he reluctantly held out the first kiss she had given him. The little silver thimble that had become something rather special to Peter..so why was he returning it to her?

Looking at the smooth object reflecting in Peter’s hand, the story teller was rather taken aback by his announcement. A fair trade? How peculiar indeed. Is that what he saw it as? Returning their kisses as a final farewell? For Wendy never would truly say goodbye, for a part of her would always hope that the mischievous boy would return to her window sill one day. The adventurer had once told her that simple things could and would make him remember people that had returned to the main land; to grow up. And the girl hoped that in leaving small things, perhaps it would give his mind more things to hold onto. So he wouldn’t forget.

Softly shaking her head at his declaration, the girl curled the fingers of his outstretched hand around the small thimble securing it for save keeping. For if he lost it, then she knew it would fill him with sadness. And she did rather hate seeming him in such a mood. “Keep it, please.” 

At his mention of hunting Wendy frowned again looking at them both with concern. There was no point in trying to stop them, for they would not take notice either way. “Well, just be careful. I would not like either one of you to come back injured for that would be simply awful.” 

A new name? How preposterous, her brother had a perfectly ‘proper’ name as it was. “Peter why does he need a name? For he already has one do you not John? John Napoleon Darling.” The girl spoke with concern for when things change, they are more likely to be forgotten. For Wendy dearly didn’t want to lose a brother as well as Peter. The thought was extremely daunting in fact, that he would forget where he grew up even his own name if Peter’s plan came through.

Brushing her dress off, she listened to John and merely shook her head once more before finishing picking up the things that had flipped across the room, when they were carelessly searching for her. “Oh, well that is nice of you to suggest John, however I doubt it will be necessary right now..” If Peter and herself talked about this, then she knew he would be able to convince her to stay. But he wouldn’t do such, she couldn’t fall for his words again. Besides, she highly doubted the boy would wish to speak with her when they would be wasted good exploring time.  ”You both should go..go on an adventure. For being a lost boy, that is what you do, do you not? Just be careful.” 

Curling the lose threads with in her fingers, her shoes brushed some of the dirt across the floor of the hide out as she made her way back to where she had been sewing. Pausing in thought for a moment or so, the girl looked at both of them in turn. The fiery red head, with a fearless heart and a knack for adventure compared to her brother with circular glasses, an intellectual mind set who greatly resembled that of their father when he was there age. Words sat on the tip of her tongue, but they were never spoken as she decided against it with a small sigh before disappearing behind the fur hanging.

 Wendy closed his fingers back around the thimble and Peter pocketed it without hesitation. He’d be sad to part with it but he was also sad that Wendy had returned his kiss to him.
 She did receive two, he thought. I wonder if she kept the first… It did save her life after all.

 Suddenly the air became crisp with frustration again. Wendy was disagreeing with Peter’s movement to have John’s name changed and Peter’s open palms became balled up with in his pockets.

"The other boys would think it unfair," said Peter. "They haven’t names from their mothers but names of which they’ve given each other or themselves. John’s got a shiny name, one of the twins is sure to take it. Slightly might even— No, Slightly still believes his to be from his mother as well. It’s not, though. We all know."

The Eternal Boy talked when he was faced with conflict, it was an apparent coping method, it should be noted he talked a lot more when those conflicts were with Wendy Darling.
"I’ll find him a suitable name and you can always change it back should you choose to leave and take him with you," These words sounded bitter and cold though Peter had tried not to make them sound that way. His mask was falling from his face quicker than her cold realize.

At John’s suggestion of his departure to find the Lost Boys or even Tiger Lily Peter’s head snapped in his direction, he looked very much like a frightened deer.
 He merely hissed one word, "No." 

It was better that he and Wendy left this conversation completely as it was, unfinished. Wendy seemed to agree and she took her leave with approving words and sewing threads laced around the fingers which Peter had often found slipped in between his own. The girl and Peter locked eyes one last time, not a bit of understanding passed between them and Peter knew there would never be a time in which it would. He nudged John’s shoulder handing him a bow and quiver full of arrows before turning toward the door way.

 ”Let’s go,” He glanced over the top of John’s head— Peter bitterly noted he was at least a foot taller than the Darling boy— at Wendy who didn’t look up from her work. “We’ll be back before dusk… Hopefully.” 

(Source: theneverlandadventurer)

thegirlwiththecrowfeather started following you

[If you guys like Jodi Lynn Anderson’s 'Tiger Lily' you should definitely follow this blog]



“Yes.” His voice was breathy and distant as if his inner self was trying to pull the words away from his lips. He turned the softest shade of pink, “I… love Wendy.

 The word ‘love’ came out sounding as if someone was strangling the boy and he was struggling for enough air to get the word out of his head. It was a foreign word to him, he’d heard it dancing along in Wendy’s stories and whispered in the mermaids songs but he had never used it himself. 

Blushing with a soft smile, the crocked out words seemed truthful by the flush that fluttered onto his cheeks, even if it nearly killed him to say such a word. She thought he didn’t wish to believe in things like love, for caring for someone always made it much harder to say farewell. However she was glad he had said the words she never thought she would hear from him.

“I love you too Peter.”

He glanced at Wendy, wide eyed and confused, before drifting his gaze from her to his arms which he promptly buried his head in and let out a lengthy sigh, “No. Don’t say that…”

After he finally built up the courage Peter looked back up at her keeping his hands on the corners of his eyes like a flood gate, “You’re going to leave. Don’t say that.”
 If love had been a hard thing to say for him coming to terms with the fact that Wendy’s leave of him for good was inevitable was even harder. Especially now.

[Believe it or not I have as much of a hard time with writing emotions as Peter has with feeling them.]