stuck in my wonderland

I was so enchanted by the person I thought you were that I was blind to the person you really are.
I thought you were a winter wonderland, but when I stuck out my tongue to catch a snowflake all I could taste was soap and lies.
—  [s.bucks]
#42
2

<<Watch the street turn cold when I walk it                                                                 It’s my rules no man can stop it                                                                               I throw a kick so quick that’ll leave you in the gutter >>

I’ve “Wonderland” stuck in my head, so this happened.

Correlation - Peter Parker

Your name: submit What is this?


Peter slammed the door of my room as he stormed out of my apartment, which is, yes, uncharacteristic of him, but this was one of the biggest fights we had had. I’d slam the door if roles were reversed, too. 

God, why did I have to be so stupid? Why did I have to be so scared? So guarded all the time? I didn’t even like being guarded and scared. You may find this a bit surprising, but hey, it’s a bit tiring. You’ll never have that person you can call if you just need to talk and cry too, you don’t have that person who knows you like the back of your hand… that best friend people can’t ever shut up about. Peter… Peter was so close, but I shut him out right before he was going to be. I pushed him away, like I did with everybody else, because I was scared, like I always am.

“You keep shutting me out, and quite frankly, I’m sick of it! I’ve been here for you through hell and back for two years, Y/N, and you still won’t trust me enough to even call me when your cousin dies!” I flinched at his words, causing Peter to sigh and take a step back, both figuratively and literally. “One day you’ll realise that you can’t go through life alone and live. One day you’ll realise that you’re human, too.”

He was right. God, I knew he was right, but I hated it.

I sighed, tearing my gaze away from the white door and hung my head down, putting my hand on my forehead as I closed my eyes. Two tears fell from my eyes, making me look up and sigh again, trying to keep myself together like I always did, but I couldn’t find it in me. My shoulders started to shake because of my sobbing and the tears fell from my face like raindrops in a storm without my permission. I sat down, positioning myself on my grey, carpet floor with my head between my knees and my hands in my hair, pulling at my scalp to distract myself from the pain in my chest.

“Slow it down,” I told myself, or, more specifically, my thoughts as they raced in my head so quick that I could barely process the thoughts in my head as they presented themselves. I took a deep breath, sitting back up after a few moments. I removed my ponytail and took a deep breath.

Another one lost.


Weeks past, and Peter could barely look at me in school. MJ tried to ask me about what was happening between us, but when I refused to answer, reverting back to my cold, quiet self, she gave up. I was sitting in the library, my nose stuck in a book and my mind stuck in its own made-up wonderland, just like how I would be before I met Peter. It seemed like the easiest way for me to cope was to revert back to the version of myself before I knew Peter. That way, I didn’t think about him that much.

Before Peter, I was a workaholic. I would never stop writing in a notebook, reading a book––both entertaining and philosophical––and I didn’t think about making friends or that kind of nonsense. I was too goal-oriented. I knew where I wanted to be, and I had a 5-year plan to get there.

I thought I didn’t think of him much, and truth be told, I didn’t consciously think of him, but I’d still feel a pang of pain when I saw him, when I heard his voice or his laugh.

He was happier without me, which was unsurprising to me. He should be. In fact, I didn’t know why I was unhappier without him. I chose to push him away. I chose this path. I should be happy, too, if not happier.

Ned sat in front of me, prompting me to glance up. Ned was usually very smiley, bright, and optimistic. It was a part of his charm. He and I were polar opposites most of the time, but it worked. So, naturally, when he sat himself across from me with a solemn and furious look on his face, I closed my book.

“Look,” he began, his voice stern and low, “I have no idea what you two fought about or why you even fought, but you’ve got to sort it out, and seeing as you two are too stubborn to admit your mistakes and apologise to each other, I’m asking you nicely. Please just talk to him. He needs you. He doesn’t look it, I know, but you know Peter! He could be stupid sometimes.” When I didn’t reply, he sighed and continued, “Y/N, I’m asking you as a friend. Do me this one favour and talk to him, and if you guys still want to fight, fine, but I can’t watch you repeat history because we both know that’s how wars get started and how shit goes down.” With that, he stood up, not letting me respond to his little speech.

It took me a moment to process what just happened, and when I did, I, unsurprisingly, just continued to read my book. 


It took another fortnight to pass before I would actually talk to Peter or talk at all, really. Even then, I wasn’t intending on talking him for a while. It was a complete accident.

I saw a group of thugs laughing and scurrying out of an alley like mice coming out from a hole in the kitchen cupboard. Curious (and whoever said curiosity killed the cat would love me for my curiosity because one day it would surely kill me), I stepped into the alleyway with caution, seeing a red figure on the ground. Before I could think, I ran to his side.

“Peter,” I croaked out, my voice hoarse from it not being used in weeks. “Peter,” I called again, waiting for a reaction, but I didn’t get any. I put my hand on his neck feeling for a pulse, and exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. I grabbed onto his hand, closed my eyes, and I teleported him back to my house in my room.


That’s my big secret. My powers of teleportation. It’s one of the big reasons why I can’t trust people. It’s not a matter of trusting them, it’s a matter of protecting them, more like. People who get close to me either get hurt, killed, or leave, and I loved Peter. I couldn’t lose Peter. I wouldn’t be able to lose another person, let alone him.

The last person who I trusted was my cousin, who definitely shipped Peter and I together, but, like I said, people who I get close to end up hurt, leaving, or dead. She just ended up being the latter. It wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t fair for anybody.

I knew Peter could take care of himself, and besides, he got hurt every day. And I know it wasn’t fair for me to keep my powers from him considering I know he’s Spider-Man. I wasn’t worried about him getting hurt or killed as much as I was worried about him leaving. Peter had a heart of gold, and if he left me, I wouldn’t be able to thing of hims as having that.

Peter groaned as I patched up his wounds, slowly moving before I shushed him and put my hand on his shoulder, telling him to stay down. I finished stitching up his major wound, and he took this as a time to get up.

“Why are you helping me?” He asked me. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me,” he said. I tried not to flinch at his words, and I did so successfully, Instead, I looked down as he turned is body to gaze at me. “How did I get here?” He asked.

“You’re barely alive and you’re wondering how you got here?” I asked, a bit jokingly, but my voice was, for the most part, in a monotone. I hummed, amused at his prioritisation. “I saw you in an alleyway looking half-alive and I brought you here. What do you think happened?”

“You just… carried me here?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He definitely didn’t believe me, but, then again, neither would I. “On your own?”

I nodded, lying. “Of course I did,” I sighed. I put gauze on the remainder of his wounds and offered him a tight-lipped smile. “You should go.”

“You’re kidding,” he muttered. I shook my head, my smile fading. “You dragged me here and you just want me to leave––”

“Would you rather I left you to die?” I asked. “Peter, that’s crazy––”

“I… You know what? No, never mind. Yeah. You’re right,” he sighed, fixing his suit and standing up. “I’m leaving.” I nodded.

“Good,” I replied, forcing a smile on my face. Peter glanced at me one more time before shaking his head and crawling out of my window and leaving. I sighed, leaning against the frame of my bed. I covered my face with my hands, exasperated, and ran my fingers through my hair before cleaning up.


“When did she get here?” I heard Ned ask as he leaned over to Peter after I answered a question in Psych class. Peter looked over his shoulder at me, and I pretended not to notice as he shrugged.

I had woken up late that morning, which forced me to teleport into the back of the class. Luckily, our Psych classroom didn’t have cameras or a very perceptive teacher. 

After class, I walked out of the classroom, books in hand. I walked to my locker, putting in my Psych textbook and notebook and taking out my Chemistry ones. Upon closing my locker, I nearly jumped and yelped at the sight of Flash Thompson, leaning against the other lockers beside mine, eyeing me. 

“What happened between you and Parker?” He asked me. I rolled my eyes and began to walk past him when he grabbed my arm. “Answer me. Come on, you know you want to––” I shook his arm off mine and tried walking away again when he caught my elbow again, prompting me to drop my book and notebook to the ground. I glared at him and kneeled down to pick up my things. When I stood back up, he asked again, “What happened between you and Parker?”

I tried to walk away again, but he started walking beside me. “So? What? Did you get sick of him?” He asked. I nearly scoffed at the question, already wishing that he would just shut up. “Oh! I know, did he get sick of you? Makes sense, you know. Considering that he looks so much happier without you, and that he didn’t even care when you somehow showed up late to Psych. In fact, I bet he didn’t even notice. He just seems… so apathetic about you lately. Pretty sure his crush on you just faded away. Lost interest completely. I think he has a crush on Michelle now––” God, just shut up. “I mean, makes sense. She’s way more interesting than you. I mean, she’s smart too. You’re not even on the decathlon team––” God, if you’re out there, if you can make him shut up, I will dedicate the rest of my life to you. I swear. “She, unlike you, is weird in a good way. Mysterious way. You’re just… weird. You’re like clown in a carnival, crazy person from the movies, most-hated character weird––”

“Hey man, just leave her alone,” a voice spoke up, surprising both Flash and I and making us stop. We both turned to see where this voice came from and I saw Ned standing there. He was nervous, considering this wasn’t like him, but, then again, everybody hasn’t been themselves lately.

“What? The circus freak?” Flash asked, eyeing me. “Why would you care, Leeds? You abandoned her. I mean, not that it’s surprising––” I turned around. “I mean, I bet her cousin––”

“Don’t. Talk. About. My. Cousin,” I growled, turning to look at him.

“She does speak!” Flash exclaimed, now drawing a crowd. “Why? Something you ashamed of, Y/N? Maybe you killed her––” I was about to tackle the puny bastard when a couple of hands caught my elbows and held me back. Even more so, the person pulled be back, close enough that I could feel their breath on my nape.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it. He isn’t worth it,” Peter’s voice whispered in my ear. I was calm enough to think clearly in an instant. Flash looked pleased with himself, as I knew he would. I kept my glare on him as I shook off Peter’s hands, disregarding my book and notebook that I had dropped on the floor when Peter grabbed me, and stormed off into the crowd, quickly disappearing and teleporting to the janitor’s closet when I got the chance.


I wiped a stubborn tear from my face forcefully as I sat with my knees to my chest against the corner behind a shelf with cleaning supplies. Truthfully, I just moved the bloody shelf forward as it was against the wall at first. Right now was a corner moment.

I always felt more comforted when something could touch my back. It was like I was being hugged from behind or cuddled. I don’t know why that is, but at the moment, I was a bit grateful for it. The corners covered a lot more surface area. Plus, I could lean my head on it.

The door opened, letting in a ray of light, but I could tell it wasn’t the janitor. The janitor has a tendency to whistle a lot.

Peter’s head popped up from the side of the shelf, and I just looked away, suddenly interested in the ingredients in Febreze. Still, he sighed and sat next to me, handing me a bottle of water, which I reluctantly took as I murmured a small, “Thank you.”

I could tell Peter was irritated with me, which was another unsurprising fact of the day, but––like he always did––he was patient with me. He just sat there as the bell rang and I gave him a look to leave, to which, he only shrugged at. Almost to say, “I’m not leaving until you talk.”

I took a gulp of water before closing it. I opened my mouth to speak, and Peter looked at me fully expecting me to, but I closed it again, making him look away. Peter was smart and everybody knew it, but I don’t think anybody’s told him how smart he is when it comes to people. 

If I’m not careful he could top me in Psych.

“Nah,” he suddenly said, “Psych’s your specialty.” I rose my eyebrow before realising I probably just had a Freudian slip. I chuckled, no doubt red-faced, as I looked down. Peter chuckled too, and he nudged me, making me look up at him just a little bit. “What Flash said was out of line,” he told me.

“Yeah,” I sighed, nodding. My voice was still hoarse, I noted, which made me sound a lot more vulnerable than I’d like, but I suppose it was only appropriate.

“You want to talk about it?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied, looking away again. “I just…” I said after a moment, making Peter’s eyebrows perk up in surprise before I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“No,” Peter said, “Say it.” I looked at him. His face grew pink as he corrected himself with a stutter, “I-I mean, you know, o-only if y-you want t-to.” I offered him a gentle smile, and it wasn’t that big of a smile, but it was there. Peter smiled back at me. I sighed, looking away again.

“People leave, Peter,” I told him, like I was tutoring him on… life. “People leave. They die, they get hurt, or they leave. You know what I’m scared of? I’m scared of that.”

“Of people dying, getting hurt, or leaving?” He asked. He looked away, no doubt thinking about it. “I mean, makes sense.”

“My cousin died. I had a friend when I was eight who I scared so much because of… because of… anyways, she ended up moving away. I had another friend before that one who got hurt then left,” I said. I looked at him. “I didn’t want you to leave.”

“But getting hurt and dying is fine?” He asked, jokingly. I laughed at that, genuinely, I did. He smiled at me, which is probably something that would make my heart flip if I realised it at the time, but I didn’t. 

“You know what I mean,” I told him, playfully pushing him to the side. “You get hurt and almost die all the time. I’ll never stop worrying about that, but… if you die or get hurt then, it’s not because of me,” I sighed, “If you leave, on the other hand, it is because of me.” Peter opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.

“I… I have so many problems with that statement,” he said. “One, people don’t die or get hurt because of you, Y/N. You don’t physically hurt or kill them… I think.” I laughed at that. “Two, so your solution was to push me away?”

“Yep,” I confirmed. “It was. If you leave, you leave. It was your choice. You chose to walk away from me. If I shut you out and push you out of the door it isn’t your choice; it’s mine. It kind of… It doesn’t ruin my perception of you. If you left, I’d think of you as a bad guy. Honestly, I would, even though I know it’s ridiculous, I would. If I pushed you away, you’re still good. You’re good and you’re safe.”

Peter eyed me. “How about that other statement? How would you… In what world would you put someone in––” I teleported to his left rather than stayed on his right. “Oh,” he responded lamely.

“Yep,” I nodded. We sat in silence for another while. This time, he seemed interested in the contents of Febreze. “Are you going to leave yet?”

“What?” He asked, looking at me. I shrugged.

“That’s my big secret, Peter. The big secret you’ve been begging me to tell you––well, the main part of it, anyways,” I told him. “I’m kind of waiting on you to leave so I could just––”

“Shut yourself out?” He supplied. I nodded.

“It’s better that way. Everybody’s safe. Nobody dies. Nobody gets hurt that way.”

“Nobody but you,” Peter corrected.

“The life of one for the life of many,” I sighed. “It’s an unfair choice, but it’s the best choice to make in this situation.” I thought about all the people I… All the people I ruined. I wasn’t a hero like Peter. I was a villain.

“You don’t ruin people.” I sighed, exasperated at his statement, rolling my eyes. I was about to protest when he spoke first. “You don’t. I don’t know what you’ve convinced yourself, but just because there’s some correlation, that doesn’t mean you cause it. And… and I’ll prove it to you.”

“Peter, I’ve been awful to you. I don’t see why––”

“Because you were awful for the sake of doing something good. I can’t blame you for now knowing any better.” Peter put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And I cried.

I cried because I haven’t cried about anything that happened before. I cried because there was hope for me yet. I cried because, at the end of the day, I was just a child deprived of a childhood.

And in that moment, I was so grateful to have a hero like Peter in my life.

Bonus!

Peter and I walked into the cafeteria together, smiling. We sat next to each other, as if the past few weeks hadn’t happened at all, and we talked about the upcoming Star Wars episode. MJ, who was “trying” to focus on her book, smiled, and Ned beamed, enthusiastically stating, “Finally!” before joining the conversation. Peter and I exchanged a smile and a glance before continuing to talk. And, for the first time in my life, all was as it should be.

♥️♠️ cora {daughter of the queen of hearts} youtube channel preferences for @asktheprincessofhearts ♣️♥️

- { join the royal red court - subscribe! }
- rose garden tour 🌹 {ft. my mom 🖤}
- black , white , and red lookbook {fall edition + discount codes for my favorite stores!} 👠
- bff tag 🖤 {ft. haylie}
- I CUT SOMEONES HEAD OFF?! 😶😱 - q&a // all about me
- my favorite vegan , rose based makeup products {updated} 💄🌹
- I WAS STUCK IN WONDERLAND FOR DAYS? 😰😭 - {vlog #12}
- sibling tag! 👫 {ft. my annoying not-brother chad ❤️}
- my boyfriend does my makeup challenge! 💄💋 {ft. harry hook 😍}
- top ten reasons why a vk can be a princess too 🙄💯 {rant vlog}

- lana

Tagged by @armrry, thanks my dude!

1) Time Right Now: 8:30

2) Nicknames: just try to come up with  a nickname for seren, i dare you

3) Gender: female

4) Star Sign: pisces!

5) Height: 5′6″

6) Birthday: March 15

7) Favorite Solo Artists: Toby Fox

8) Favorite Bands/groups: uhhhh Imagine Dragons, Bastille, Pentatonix, Fall Out Boy

9) Song Stuck In My Head: Wonderland Round Three, boo yeah

10) Last Show Watched: stranger things! i’m watching it with my friends

11) When Did I Create My Blog: o…….fuck. uh, 2012? but i didn’t start using it for real until like. last year

12) What Do I Post: we call this the Adventure Zone Pit

13) Last Thing I Googled: power word sit (it exists)

14) Do You Have Other Blogs: i do have one blog where i scream about projects i want to write but don’t know if i’ll be able to finish

15) Do You Get Asks: more recently! i fuckin’ love ‘em!

16) Why Did You Choose Your URL: shit, it just sounded nice??

17) Following: 271

18) Followers: 792

19) Favorite Colors: green! pretty consistently. i also like purple.

20) Lucky Number: 27, for an incredibly nerdy reason that will never be divulged.

21) Habits: singing out loud without realizing it

22) Instruments: piano? kinda?

23) What Am I Wearing: v comfortable sweater and jeans. i fucking live in jeans. just call me bluejeans.

24) How Many Blankets I Sleep With: one, because i’m a warm girl

25) Dream Job: author! …fanfic writer? kind of a question mark, tbh.

26) Dream Trip: hhhhhh all around africa? which is a fucking giant region, i know, but there’s so much diversity around the entire continent. i know for sure i’d want to hit up ethiopia and egypt and morocco, and then after that maybe sierra leone and south africa? who knows!

27) Favorite Food: chocolate

28) Where do you live?: :3

29) Favorite Song Right Now: baba yetu. longstanding favorite

30) Other social medias: facebook, snapchat

i tag @crab-child, @masterwayfinders, @distractibledingo, @peri-plumz, and everyone else in the weird whanau group!

Tagged by @dont-leave-me-hangin

nicknames? Lil

gender? Female

star sign? Libra

height? 155 cm

time? 10:24 pm

birthday? October 20th

favourite bands? Bastille, Blossoms, London Grammar & Oh Wonder

favourite solo artists? Avril Lavigne, Rationale, Passenger & Taylor Swift

song stuck in my head? Winter Wonderland 

last movie you watched? Scrooged 

last show you watched? Brooklyn 99

when did you create your blog? Well, this blog was created in summer 2017 but I had another one since 2014/2015 but I got logged out and forgot the password

what do i post? Bastille. (I have four other blogs though)

last thing i googled? Loving Vincent release date uk

do you have any other blogs? Yup: @lilcathsmith @ravenclaw-blueandbronze @lil-aesthetic-things @my-vinyl-collection

do you get asks? Nope 

why did you choose your url? My nickname: Lil, favourite band and favourite song: Glory 

following? 448

followers? 39

favourite colours? To wear: red/burgundy but just colour-wise: Blues & Greens

average hours of sleep? 6-8

dream vacation? America, New York especially

lucky number? Don’t have one??

instruments? I can play a little bit of the keyboard but not well

what am i wearing? Dark orange jumper, leggings and fluffy badger socks 

how many blankets do i sleep with? One

dream job? Psychologists

favourite food? Pasta 

nationality? British (and stereo-typically)

favourite song right now? I Know You and Heartline by Craig David

languages? English and learning Italian

@mylivingphantasy @3astille @way-beyond-that @bastille-with-wwdke

don’t judge a book by its cover o2 [yoongi&you]

Summary: you have always thought that because Yoongi is that annoying and arrogant college kid, he would have no heart. but you came to learn so much more when being paired up with him for a project in sociology class.

a/n: thanks for requesting, anon. hopefully it was close enough to what you have wanted. if not, let me know and i’ll make it better for you ^_^

part one

Originally posted by sugagi

Two days into knowing Yoongi better when meeting him after school at his place, had definitely drew you both closer. Do you dare thank the project? Nah. You’re sure of it that you might have clashed with Yoongi somehow, since he was always out and about himself.

Nevertheless, hanging out with him at made you see the real Min Yoongi in whom you don’t understand why he doesn’t show at school.

He’s so dedicated with writing what he loves to spit, and shows a lot of passion into what’s being written. You thought maybe it’s because of the lonesome feels he has, but it isn’t.

Keep reading

2

I JUST FOUND THESE PHOTOS OF ME FROM WHEN I WAS 11 YEARS OLD AND I PLAYED ALICE IN ALICE IN WONDERLAND IN A PRODUCTION AND NOW THE SONG ‘WONDERLAND’ IS STUCK IN MY HEAD.

SEE HOW EVERYTHING RELATES TO YOU ? LITERALLY EVERYTHING @taylorswift