#darling pandom

[ryik-the-writer]

My sis made me a facemask that’s giving me such Darling Pan feels!

[idairscorner]

Here’s the right answers to the silly spoiler quiz for Chapter 8 of Belonging, under the cut ‘cause they are, you know, spoilers.

(If anybody still wanna play go ahead, here’s the quiz. I haven’t nearly finished editing the chapter, so... what? I most definitly didn’t say that.)

a) Wendy sweet cheeks Darling blushes (that was a kinda predictable(?) one but it’s actually more spoilery than you think)

b) Peter uses magic to make something disappear (sorry, can’t tell you exactly what it is ‘cause it gives just a little too much away)

d) Wendy begs (doesn’t make much sense, does it? Good, I’m the evil omniscient writer here)

Nobody’s gonna have tea. Too bad. That would be nice, wouldn't it? I’m gonna keep the prompt for another story, no kidding. Neverland tea party plot already in the workings. (What do you think Pete and Wen do all day long if not pour themselves a cuppa tea and talk about the weather like proper children of England? I mean, seriously guys, come on.)

And nobody is gonna pull anybody’s heart out, ‘cause let’s give a rest to the Evil Queen style dramatics. All the hearts will remain in the corresponding chests for this chapter.

That’s it.

Hope you’ll have fun finding the actual scenes in the chapter and have a laugh about it. And realize how stupid this thing was and that you shouldn’t put up with me ever again, too late now, you might wanna make a note to yourselves for future reference tho.

Thanks for playing and above all thanks for reading (this and the story) you guys are always awesome.<3

[yourfriendlyneighborhoodprincess]

I'm almost certain that the author of The Wendy Darling series of books is part of the Darling Pan fandom. I'm reading Stars right now and I just got to the part where they say Felix(!!!!) was the only general ever to be given the gift of flight by Peter. That sealed the deal for me.

[idairscorner]

“Editing, why art thou so solemn hard?”

Sneak peek from Belonging Chapter 6 

(Spoilers ahoy! And yep, this thing is still ongoing. Not gonna abandon it, never, even when it very much looks like I did. Just to clarify, in case anybody was wondering… nobody was wondering, alright.)

*drops this in the tag and runs away*

[astrugglingwriter]

Firstly, to answer all my backed up asks: I am still moving stuff over to AO3 but it’ll take some time! I’ll update once I have some stuff on there.

Secondly, this is rough, I haven’t wrote in so long. This popped into my head and I’m grasping the opportunity. 

He looked down at her as she slept.

Peter spent most of his nights watching Wendy as she slept. Her still small body was curled on the cold, moist dirt - knobby, scraped knees pulled up to her breasts, slender arms holding them tight. He watched his Wendy-birds chest rise and fall, imagined he could hear the warm blood pulsing under her skin as he let his gaze wander to her throat and up to her face.

Her face was pinched, it always was when she slept. Brows furrowed and lips bitten red as she whimpered. A hundred years and her sleep was still fretful. A hundred years with him and she still wasn't happy.

It made him angry as he glared down at Wendy's unconscious form slumbering at his feet. Her eyes were screwed shut, the crinkles around her eyes made her look older, worn out. He supposed that was typical of mothers, or so he’d heard, but it didn’t suit her. He didn’t like it.

Wendy had always told Peter that he looked like a boy when he slept. He could almost feel her fingers  brushing the hair from his forehead, remember what it felt like when she had let him lay his head in her lap in the early morning. You look like a perfect angel, she had said softly, quickly following it up with a grimace, if only I should be so lucky.

Peter crouched over her and felt his fist clench at his side. He ached for Wendy. The real Wendy. Not the tired, puppet of a girl who sat passive around the camp, who let him do as he pleased without a shriek or a mere scolding. He wanted to take his hands and smooth the crease between her brows. He wanted to wipe at the wrinkles that circled her eyes, flick them away as if they were nothing more that dirt or paint.

Instead he sat beside her. Fist still clenched he focused on the rise and fall of her chest and listened to the tiny breaths that whispered through her lips. Peter allowed his spare hand to touch a wild curl that rested on her shoulder.

He leaned his back against the rough bark of the tree trunk behind him and closed his eyes and tried to picture a different scene, this time with his Wendy-birds head upon his lap.

[astrugglingwriter]

A pretty girl should not wander alone.

Not my finest work but my brain has been trying to complete this little drabble since forever

Also! it’s based off a very old prompt that i can’t find the link to currently, sorry about that!

"A pretty girl shouldn’t wander alone."

The voice, as crisp and youthful as a summers evening, seemed to blow through the trees of the Neverland forest. It sent the feeling of a thousand hairy spiders crawling up her arms, in an attack of sharp, icy shivers.

It was only a name “Neverland Forest” a play on the children’s story, made up by the town’s young people. It wasn’t real. There was no boy-king exerting his rule upon the trees and an army of young boys. There were no fairies or pirates. There were only decade old stories of young boys going missing and idiot teenage pranks gone wrong. They were stories, myths, rumours; not an inch of truth could’ve been there.

Storybrooke was safe. Well, as safe as one could consider random clouds of purple smoke at any given time and “battles” breaking out in the town square. It was an odd town but it was small, it was home. It was in all likely-hood some dumbass boy from her grade trying to mock her, or get lucky, whichever.

But there was something in the air that made Wendy feel wrong.

“You’re very funny,” Wendy hiccupped, coughing through the alcoholic burn in her throat. Perhaps sneaking out for her first drink in the dark of the forest wasn’t the best idea. In fact, wandering off from Lilly was probably an even worse idea. She coughed again and tried to orient herself towards to distant laughter, “But I’m fine.”

This was silly, defending her choices to a voice she couldn’t even see, didn’t even know. Wendy felt her face flush a garish pink and she swiftly turned to run her way back to her friends. But before she could a nimble white hand clasped her arm, yanking her back.

“Hey! Don’t touch me–” She tried to yelp, but the words stuck in her throat and got pushed down by surprise and anger and confusion.

He had spun her around so she faced him, a phantom chill still burning her arm from his grip. Her eyes caught view of sandy brown hair, knife-point sharp features, a grinning mouth, one that was twisted somewhere between mischief and a grimace. A boy a boy a boy … but at the same time he wasn’t. She didn’t recognize him from school and he certainly didn’t look like any boy she’d seen before. His ears were bit too pointed, as if he were wearing prosthetics and his white teeth looked sharp for her comfort.

“Anything could happen to you here. I may have forgotten, but wandering around a forest in the dead of night really isn’t the safest thing in the world, is it. Especially not as drunk as you are”

He sniffed in disgust and shook his head, as if he were disappointed. It made her want to slap him.

“Then what are you doing here then?” Wendy huffed. Her pride tried to crack through her nervousness semi-successfully.

He laughed, “Neverland is mine. I’m the only one that should ever be here. ”

“You’ve got to be lying.” She sputtered, “No one can own forest.”

This boy had to be insane, or drunk or high, maybe all three. He couldn’t actually believe he owned Neverland, he must have heard stories and decided to play at being Peter Pan for the night. She shouldn’t have wandered at here at all, that much was true. But her heart thumped too loudly in her chest for her to think straight, to run. Against her better judgment she stayed in place. He walked around her, like a lion circling its prey. She was too frozen to follow his lead and meet his gaze with her own scrutiny.

Wendy felt the hair’s on the back of her neck prickle as he stood behind her, leaning into her cloud of blonde hair.  

“Oh, Wendy-bird. I think you can find that I can.”

His breath warmed her ear, and it felt familiar in a way that it shouldn’t. Her body started shaking, she couldn’t help it. Wendy never spoke of that nickname, mainly because she could never remember when she had gotten it and when it had stopped.

“I would go find your degenerate friends before they get as lost as you are.”

He stepped back and she closed her eyes, a sigh shuttering out of her lips. The leaves crunched under his feet as he walked backwards.

“I don’t think you want to think about what may happen if you don’t.” The threat was tinged with less humour than before and she could almost feel the sickening grin as he continued. “Unlike you it won’t be so pretty.”

That was the last straw. She didn’t care who he was and what he could do. She couldn’t care less if he could have the ground beneath her feet tremble. But by the time she finally got the courage to whirl on him, fists and arms out, the boy was already gone.

[astrugglingwriter]

colleendavies : I will write essays and creative writing for $5 on www.fiverr.com

For only $5, colleendavies will write essays and creative writing. | I am able to provide buyers with creative and/or informative works of their choosing with accuracy and in short time requirements. I specialize in writing | On Fiverr.com

Ok ya’ll I know I always say I’m back and then I go away again but things have been very, very rough behind the screen for me. It’s made me have to give up writing for a short while because I was unable to get into that head space.

However along with (now) writing new stories for this blog I also need to make money. I have severe body pain which makes a standing job not an option and being eighteen I need my own income at this point.

Don’t worry! I will not be charging for prompts now. However if any of you have five dollars to spare I will be writing poetry and short stories as well as essays and articles.

[astrugglingwriter]

i really love your fics, but i was wondering if you could shed some light on why the pandom seems to romanticize wendy being abused by peter in all these aus

thank you a lot, and I’m by no means an authority figure in the pandom nor do  know other peoples reasoning, but I would argue that no one is romanticizing abuse. (cue more under the cut)

when I write dark stories for these prompts I don’t condone these actions, I don’t think it’s cute, I think wendy is terrified like she seems to be in the show and in other works.

I play around with different reactions to these scenarios mostly, sometimes she’s scared, sometimes she’s confused, sometimes he’s evil, sometimes he’s an angry young boy. in terms of the pan that ouat gave us, pan is violent. I don’t think of them as a romantic pairing most of the time, which I know sounds weird. Personally I won’t write a lot of physical abuse or sexual abuse bc it makes me uncomfortable and I try hard to make it clear that it’s fucked up. unfortunately pan is manipulative and controlling and mean, which is even in the original character of him.

I try to write lighthearted ones in between too though, because I do think there’s other more romantic and harmless way to write the two. And people seem to enjoy those ones a lot more imo.

I think pan is a boy and a monster. I think wendy is strong-willed and scared. there’s a lot of ways those two can respond to one another, both in terms of shipping and in terms of enemies. some people take it too far, and I know I’ve written some very dark fics before, I just think people need to use their heads to realize when somethings okay and when it isn’t.