are you even fully grown

anonymous asked:

You know, imo, if Jack-the-nephilim truly wasn't evil he would've showed Cas that in "the future" he wouldn't actually need all those damn diapers. I mean, what a waste of money. Dick move, Jack. You coulda mentioned to Cas when you mind-zapped him that you were gonna pop out fully grown... I bet you don't even poop, do you Jack? I bet everybody poops but you. Stupid nephilim... >:(

This message is a thing of beauty, I’m not even going to respond, I’m just going to preserve it the way it is.

Not Dead Yet (Part 35)

*I know this is late. May has been a hellish month. Stupid %$#@$!$ basement flooding twice and scheduling errors at work messing up my routine. UGH! Glad this month is almost over. Have a nice long chapter for your incredible patience. New update to follow shortly! Love ya!*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warning: langauge

When we got back to Neverland we landed right in the middle of camp and nearly crushed Ben. “Hey boys,” I let go of the cart, “Take what you need.”

The boys swarmed the cart and took the things they needed. I quickly grabbed my own things and set them down in an open place to set up my tent. I took my change of clothes and went to find a secluded pond to soak in. What I would love was a hot bath to help with the soreness in my abdomen but as far as I knew there weren’t any hot springs on Neverland.

I was feeling a little better after my soak and washing away the layer of dried sweat and other bodily fluids. I slipped on my fresh clothes and headed back to camp. Seeing all the tents back up was a welcome sight. After everything that’s happened to camp and the boys it was nice to see things return to some kind of normalcy.

When I got back to where I sat my supplies I was surprised to see my tent had been set up. Candace was outside in a carefully crafted nest and chirped happily when she saw me. I scratched the top of her head and crawled inside my tent. It was then I saw a piece of parchment resting on my cot. I picked it up and smiled at the wonderfully drawn picture.

While the evening was still young I wasn’t up for sitting around the fire or dancing with the others. I also didn’t want to risk the chance of running into Peter. Not to say I was embarrassed or anything I just know how much libido a boy can have and didn’t want to get cornered by him so soon. For the remainder of the night I stayed in my tent playing with Candace instead until I finally fell asleep.

If I thought sleep would help I was completely wrong, if anything when I woke up in the morning I felt even worse. It reminded me of when I first came to Neverland and how my muscles weighed down after days of training. Why must my body betray me this way?

It was early in the morning and the boys were still asleep. Good. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. I walked down to the beach and stretched my belly out on the warm sand. This feels nice.

“How the hell can you get up this early every morning?” So much for my pleasant morning.

“Hello,” I gave a pat to the sand next to me, “Come to mock my early morning routine once more?”

“Well it’s the only time you’re ever truly alone.” Peter sat down next to me, “Is there a reason you’re lying face down in the sand?”

“Because I can?”

“You’re sore, aren’t you?”

“Damn it all…” I muttered, “Yes, I am. What of it?”

“You should have just said so.” he rolled me over and laid his hand over my stomach, “Could have done this yesterday if you hadn’t avoided me.”

“Avoid is a strong word.”

“Yet it is what you did.” the ache started to fade, “I’m not mad just a tad disappointed that you would automatically assume I would, one, force you to have sex with me, and two, do it so soon after you lost your virginity. I have slept with literally dozens of women, a lot of them virgins, I know what they go through physically after it happens.”

“Man you really are a whore.”


“Sorry. Thanks for the consideration, truly, but I really don’t want to hear about how many naive virgins and drunken barmaids you’ve had sex with.”

“Figured.” he pulled his hand away, “I just want you to know that this doesn’t change anything between us. I don’t want you to feel like you have to avoid me because of what you asked me to do. That’s the whole reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Well I wouldn’t say the whole reason.” I smirked at him. The tips of his ears burned red. “Didn’t understand that from yesterday did you? I would have thought the signs were obvious.”

“Oh my little Lost Girl,” he ran a hand through my hair, “You unravel me.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“That remains to be seen.” He pulled me closer with a cheeky grin. His gaze left mine to focus on something over my shoulder. “Someone’s watching us.”


“Your pet.”

I looked behind me to see Candace flitting closer towards us. How had she followed me out here? She hopped onto my lap and began chirping at me. “Hello darling, why are you out here?” I scratched the top of her head.

“It’s very attached to you.”

“Her name’s Candace.”

“You named your phoenix Candace?”

“Well what would you name it?” Why is everyone so critical over her name?

“I don’t know something more deserving of an immortal phoenix like…the Neverbird.”

“Do you just name everything after Neverland?”

“It’s a good name.”

“It’s a title not a name.”

“Candace the Neverbird.”

“Is Candace the phoenix just not mystical enough for you?”

“My island, my rules.”

“My bird, my name.”

“I’m calling it the Neverbird.”

“You’re an idiot.” I picked up Candace and stood up. “I think she’s hungry, I’m going to go find her some food.”

“I’m gonna catch a couple more winks.” Peter reclined back on the sand and closed his eyes. “I have to go out and start collecting boys later.”

“Finally, some new blood to instill fear into.” He peeked an eye open at me, “What?”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you. Do you wanna come?”

“You want me to come with you to find new boys? Haven’t we spent enough time together recently?”

“There’s never enough time with you. Also more specifically we’ll be finding the boy that’s going to save my life. So?”

“As fun as that sounds I think I’ll sit this one out. There are things to do here.”

“Suit yourself.” he closed his eyes again and I left into the jungle to find Candace some food.

As much fun as roaming the realms and finding new boys would be I needed some space from Peter. I feel like everywhere I turn he’s there. I need some time away from the boys in general. I love them like brothers but it can all be a bit much. I’m as rough and tumble as the next boy, even more so in some cases, but I am also still a girl. There was a part of me that hated some of the jokes they made or their lack of sanitary habits.

If I am being honest with myself it was more than that. Being the only girl on the island can get frustrating. I’ve never been friends with girls, not even before Neverland. It was always just me and the boys. I never even knew my own mother. Would I even get along with girls? Can I even consider myself one after all these years without any interaction with another?

“At least I have you, huh?” I lifted Candace to my shoulder, “I’m not seeing any berries around here. Let’s try someplace else.”

I trekked further into the jungle searching for a berry bush until I finally found a grove of them near the far side of Dead Man’s Peak. “Here you go,” I picked some and held them up for Candace to eat, “You’re looking bigger already. How fast do you age? Maybe Peter would know we’ll ask him later.”

When I got back I was only slightly disappointed to see he had disappeared from the island. He wouldn’t return till late in the night I was sure. I dropped Candace back at my tent and by now everyone was awake and getting ready for training. I had been slacking on my training lately and stuck with Felix for some real challenge.

“Come on Y/N,” Felix sighed, “I thought you were a tad better than this.”

“Just a bit off this morning.” I refused to admit I was rusty. Rusty meant clumsy and clumsy meant death in a real fight.

We started again and I got some of my prowess back but took a few more hits and falls than I should have allowed. Training last late and I was dripping with sweat by the end. Most of the boys were too and we decided to take a quick dip to cool off.

“This is nice,” I floated back on the pond.

“Yeah,” Devin floated next to me, “Until someone does something like this.” Devin launched himself at me and dunked me under the water. I pulled him down with me. Why can’t we have a swim without it turning into a brawl? So is the life of a Lost Girl I suppose.

We thrashed about in the water for a bit having some good fun. Devin had me in a lock and the other boys came over to pester me while I was subdued. I thrashed even harder trying to break free when a loud noise like a needle to the ear pierced the air. Devin dropped me to clamp his hands over his ears. I looked to find the source of the noise and saw it was Candace. She had followed me again. I quickly swam to the shore and tried to shut her up. Once she saw me she quieted down.

“What the hell was that?!” Toodles asked. The others looked at me accusingly.

“I didn’t do this.” Candace kept chirping until I picked her up. “She must have thought I was in trouble.”

“We were horsing around. Is your rat with wings that dumb?”

“Don’t insult her, she can’t tell the difference. She only saw me struggling.” I gave her another soothing pet. “It’s sweet.”

“No, it is dangerous.” Toodles said and there was a murmur of agreement from the others.

“This is madness. She’s just a little bird that wanted to protect me. She’ll learn.”

“I don’t know why Pan lets you keep it.” Billy sneered.

“I would have thought that much was obvious.” Devin pulled himself onto the bank next to me, “Pan and her are sleep–”

I pushed him back in the water before he could say another word. I don’t know if he was kidding or if he somehow actually knew but I wasn’t going to let him implant the idea in the other’s minds. “You all are so paranoid. Why wouldn’t we want an all powerful immortal phoenix on our side? She’s not even fully grown and her screech discombobulated you all within seconds. She’s valuable and Peter recognizes this, that is why she stays. Now if you’ll excuse me I think I’m going to dry off and get something to eat. Bring your torches and pitchforks if you want to rebel against our leader’s wishes.”

Without another word I grabbed my things and sauntered back to camp. The boys did have a point though. Candace was still only a baby right now and she was already capable of a lot. I’m going to need to keep a better watch on her if I don’t want to lose her.

I grabbed some food and started wandering around the island. Maybe I should leave. A pleasant day trip to some far off realm with no boys. That sounded marvelous right now. To do that I would need a bean though and the harvest was under twenty four hour watch now that we had the pirates to worry about. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen them in a while, I wonder what they’re up to. Not curious enough to bother heading to the coast to find their ship but curious nonetheless. By the end of the day I had found myself reclining high in Peter’s Thinking Tree and watching the glimmer of the sea in the last rays of the evening sun. Candace had flown off somewhere the higher I had climbed and hadn’t returned.

This is so boring. Hopefully a new face around here will liven things up. I let out a yawn and fell asleep on the large bough of the towering tree. In the morning I woke up and nearly fell from my precipitous bed. I got my bearing about me and went back to camp. There was a new face milling about with the others but all I could think of was how my back ached from sleeping so awkwardly on the hard tree.

“What’s a lady doin ‘ere?” the new boy pointed to me accusingly.

“Trust us,” Nick slung an arm over my shoulder, “She’s no lady.”

“And I can break your head open like an egg with one hit.” I grabbed Nick’s spear and gave it an effortless twirl in my hand, “Suffice to say, don’t try anything.”

The young fool turned as white as a sheet and backed away slowly. Smart move.

“Must you cause so much trouble so early?” Ben approached from where the new boy had fled.

“I was simply telling him how things are around here. If one is to thrive on Neverland then they need thick skin.” I rubbed at my stiff neck. “Benny boy, know anything about easing a sore neck?”

“Sorry no.” he shrugged.

“Great.” I grumbled and collapsed back in my tent while the others headed to training for the morning. Candace chirped happily at me when she saw I had returned. She supposedly has healing abilities but I doubt they could help with the ache running down my spine. Why does my body hate me so?

Candace, annoyed by her lack of attention, pecked at my feet and ankles. “Bugger off,” I shooed her away, “Let me get some rest.”

She continued to peck and peck until it got to be too much. “What is your problem?” I shouted back as I went to push her away again but noticed she wasn’t the one that had just poked me.

“Hello to you too?” Peter quirked an eyebrow up at me.

“What do you want?” I fell back against my cot with a thud.

“Why aren’t you at training?”



“Not from that.” I glared at him. “I slept in a tree and now my back hurts.”

“My silly little pet,” he squeezed into the tent next to me, “Want me to help?”

“Sure,” I rolled over so I was laying on my stomach.

I was expecting the usual ado where he placed a hand on my back or wherever I was hurting and his magic cleared up the ache but that’s not what he did this time. He did place his hands on my back but he was rubbing it instead. It felt good and was relieving some tension so I didn’t bother asking why he was doing this instead of using magic.

I felt myself relax more as he kneaded my back, shoulders, and neck. I let out a sigh of contentment and rolled back so I was facing up. I hadn’t realized it before but he had been straddling me the entire time and now I was trapped beneath him. The last time I was in this position flew across my mind and my heart missed a beat. The same thought must have entered Peter’s mind because he began running a hand down my side.

We couldn’t do it here, could we? All the boys are at training right now…no one would be back for another hour or two at least. Without realizing it I had been sliding my hands against his thighs straddled on either side of me. I gave him a smile and he returned it with his own salacious grin.

I was less weary this time when he bent down to kiss my neck. I let out a soft sigh and stretched my neck so he could get to it easier. He pulled back for a moment to rid me of my shirt. He studied my body much in the same way he did the first time. He poked my side and I winced. “Where’d did all the bruises come from, pet?”

“I took a few lumps training with Felix the other day.”

“Clumsy, Lost Girl, very clumsy.” he murmured as his face hovered over my abdomen, “Want me to kiss it better?”

“Shove off,” I sat up and pushed his face away, “Do you always have to be such a prat?”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.” he wrapped my legs around his waist, “Speaking of having me…”

“Bite me,” I rolled my eyes. He smirked wider before biting down hard on the space between my neck and shoulder. “Ow! I didn’t mean literally!”

“Oops,” he shrugged innocently, “I was just complying to the wish of my Lost Girl.”

“Cheeky prat.”

“Sticks and stones pet,” he pressed against me kissing me hard.

As I was starting to roll Peter’s shirt off the sound of someone milling about the camp made me freeze. “Someone’s out there.” I whispered in a panicked voice.

“They’ll go away,” he whispered back claiming my lips again.

“Y/N, are you here?” I recognized Nick’s voice, “The new kid wants to try fighting you.”

“They’re looking for me,” I warned him but my pleas fell on deaf ears, “they’re gonna realize I’m in my tent.”

“They will if you keep talking.”

The footsteps got closer. “Y/N, are you still sleeping?” Nick called again.

Peter shook his head at me.

“Trying to,” Peter frowned at my response, “What do you want?”

“The new kid thinks you’ll be an easy win and wants to fight you. Wanna prove him wrong?”

“Not right now,”

“Come on, you’re already awake.” I could make out his shadow outside the tent.

“No!” I blurted, “I–I’m not dressed. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay…? I’ll wait out here for you to get ready.” his shadow left and his footsteps receded.

I let out a breath of relief. Peter was glaring at me. “Why?”

“He was about to barge in on us.” I stressed.

“No he wasn’t. If you wouldn’t have answered he would have left.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“Fine, next time I won’t let you slip away though.” he rolled off me so that I could get dressed again and leave.

“Just so you know,” I turned back to him, “I’m disappointed too.”

He was still frowning but there was a playful glint to his eyes. I closed the space and pressed a kiss to the bottom of his jaw. “Come by in a bit if you want to watch me break the new kid in.”

Taking down the new kid took a whole of five seconds. He stammered about how he wasn’t ready and demanded a rematch. Again and again I slammed him into the ground. Both with weapons, only him with a weapon, hand-to-hand, I even allowed the idiot to choose one of the boys so it was two to one. Each time he went down with ease.

The new boy groaned on the ground. “Come on kid, give it up already.”

“N-No…” he pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he did so. “I’m not a kid. I wanna go again.”

“Please,” I shoved him gently and he staggered back, “You are weak, you can’t defend yourself from the simplest attack, your movements resemble that of a dying warthog and you are as dumb as the ocean is deep. But you have tenacity. A real stubbornness. I can respect that.”

“Huh?” he looked at me confused.

“Don’t act so oblivious. You’re one of us now. We’ll turn you into a proper Lost Boy yet.” I held out a hand, “What’s your name?”

He glanced between me and my hand repeatedly before grasping it tightly in his own. “I’m Rufio.”

(Part 1) (Previous) (Next)

agentafter  asked:

For the fic I won't write: Jimin + Take me to the sky :3

“Lock your windows before you sleep.”

“I’m twenty-three, Mom. I’m sure no fairy wants to take me away,” you tease her, a faux pout sitting on your face. “But, I won’t. I promise.”

Your mother directs a glare that would have had you terrified if you hadn’t been at the receiving end for two decades now. She leaves soon after and you take that opportunity to unpack your satchel. Work has been quite unforgiving, so you, of course, decide to take home some of it to lessen the following week’s load.

After piling your files into three different stacks, you turn off the lights and jump into bed because even if you are a fully grown adult, you do still find joy in that. Tucking yourself underneath the heavy weight of your comforter, you find yourself quickly falling asleep.

Well, that had been the case until you hear odd sounds in your room.

Now wide awake, you reach for the switch of your bedside lamp but the light flashes even before you do. With the harsh white light beaming down on your hand that is still a few inches away from the lamp, you stare at the hand that is most definitely not yours as it pulls away.

A quiet debate erupts in your mind, but you decide to look at whoever it is who owned the hand. Might as well know who kills you, right?

With a deep breath, you slowly lift your gaze to scan your room for any strange presence, but you find you don’t really need to. The stranger—a boy with hair the color you’d always imagined fairy dust to be—stands beside your bed, staring at you confusedly.

“Sorry, lady, but I need to find my shadow. I think he went here, so if you don’t mind.”

He flashes you a bright smile and he wal—floats around, rummaging your drawers and closet. When his small, chubby hand reaches for what you recognize is your underwear drawer, you call out to him with an urgency of a child attempting to reign in a bursting bladder.

“Excuse me! Look all you want but not that drawer!”

The shout startles the strange boy and he falls flat on his bottom, frowning at you. He looks quite endearing with a pout like that, but you shake your head to clear it of this train of thought. The boy seems to be completely unaware of whatever you are thinking, but he does skip the drawer.

Sighing in relief, you continue watching him as he flies around as if he owned the place. Something about the boy reminds you of your mother’s tales, so without thinking or filtering, a question finds its way out of your mouth.

“Are you, by any small chance, Peter Pan?”

He halts his search to look at you, confused.

“I don’t know any Peter Pans.”

“Who are you then?”

“I can’t really remember, but my friends call me Jimin.”

Send me a member or a ship, and a title.

chakey715  asked:

The problems mainly involve my parents making me feel that even though I'm going to college and am trying my best with everything else I can do, that I'm just a failure and am wasting my time. I'm sorry if you don't have an answer, but I felt that you could at least help me feel a bit better.

“That sounds dreadful! What else are they possibly expecting of you? Why you’re not even fully grown yet! Sometimes, parents want success for you so much that they don’t understand your own feelings, and that they are just as important as edging you on to success.

Of course parents should be stern when need be, but also in a way that helps their child grow. Comparing you to other children or some standard isn’t really beneficial. What is exceptional for you? What is your level and how much higher can you reach. I was compared to Dio a lot. Truth be told he is my better in most ways: he was smart, charming, handsome and all around likeable. I can never be him. So I never tried to be, I set my own goals and reached them. I think you can too! Set your goals and reach them; your parents cannot determine your worth! Only you can!”-Jonathan


You could not tell a potential customer, expecting a learned and ancient magician, that you were not even fully grown. Magnus had started lying about his age young, and had never dropped the habit. It did get a little embarrassing sometimes when he forgot what lie he’d told to whom. Someone had once asked him what Julius Caesar was like, and Magnus had stared at him for much too long and said, “Not tall?” 
           — What Really Happened in Peru


Prompt: You live with Wade Wilson and Peter Parker. One day Peter brings some of the Avengers to his place to discuss with him in private about maybe joining the team. Only to find you and Wade dressed up as Captain America and Iron Man having a fight with nerf guns and water balloons. 

Warnings: None

Pairing: Peter x Reader, Deadpool x Reader and some of the Avengers

This is such a funny request like I could actually picture Wade doing something like this haha

It was his idea!

Wade and you decided to have a bit of fun, since Peter is out and he wouldn’t be able to stop you. Wade is dressed up as the star spangled man with a plan, Captain America. And you were dressed as the one and only Iron Man. Each of you had your side of the room, with a basket full of water balloons. Nerf guns at the ready. 

“FIRE!” Wade yelled at the top of his lungs. Throwing a water balloon your way. You managed to duck, it smashed off the nearby wall instead of your face. 

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You Are Family

This is the second scenario to kick off Block B week!

Block B Week: So from now until next thursday (13/08/15) I will be answering all Block B scenario and question requests! :)

So if  you wanted any scenarios or questions answered about Block B, this week is the week to do it because I will be prioritizing all Block B requests over anything else.

Please note: I will still take into account any requests sent in concerning other groups during this time, but they will not be answered/written until Block B week is over.

-Admin Kitty

Originally posted by jyro

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a-space-fanatic  asked:

I was thinking about what kind of dogs Voltron would have (because I have no life lol) and I think Lance: Jack Russel Terrier, Pidge: Corgi, Hunk: Mastiff (but like a really gentle and sweet one), Keith: Doberman Pinscher, and Shiro: Black Lab/German Shepard mix. I really like the idea of Keith and the Doberman tho it will be the end of me

This is so pure what the fuck

Lance either named his dog something like “Fluffy” or something like “Han Solo,” there’s no in between. Pidge and the corgi are one of those pet&owner duos that look scarily similar to each other. Hunk’s mastiff would be the most well-trained, cuddly beast on the planet, and you bet your ass that even when the dog’s fully grown, Hunk is scooping it into his arms like it’s still a puppy. Keith’s dog is a grump but Keith just. loves his pointy friend. Shiro’s dog would definitely be a sweet, reliable service dog who keeps Shiro company and helps him on bad days and makes everything easier for him.

A shipping “problem” in the fandom

 I don’t know if I can call it “problem” exactly, but there is this tendacy among the ASOIAF/GoT fans to extremely romanticize the finished relationships of the charcaters. This is the most prominent with the 2 main characters, Jon and Daenerys. Their respective first “love” interests were Ygritte and Khal Drogo, two characters who are now dead. And there is this disturbing idea within the fandom that Jon and Daenerys “will always belong with that dead character and cannot be in love with anyone else”. 

This romanticization makes me very uneasy. Daenerys and Jon were both teenagers when their first relations happened - Daenerys was 13 (Khal Drogo around 30), Jon was 16 (Ygritte 19). Neither of these relations were particularly consensual - Daenerys was forced to wed her Dothraki husband and was raped by him several times x, Jon was threatened to be killed if he didn’t have sex with Ygritte (because it would have meant Jon still follow the rules of the Night’s Watch). Neither of these relations happened in a non “toxic” and happy environment: Daenerys was sold to Khal Drogo in exchange for his army to go at War, Jon was on a mission for the Night’s Watch, spying on the Wildlings, his life in danger if he failed to play the role well. 

 And most important once again, they were teenagers. Young people who experienced their first relationships. Those relationships ended, fairly quickly too. Daenerys and Jon (and other characters with a similar story) have all the right to move on. It is normal for them to move on. It is best for them to move on. They have (potentially) all their life in front of them, a life to live and fall in love again

 But so many fans deny them this future. They fix Daenerys and Jon with their dead first lovers, and refuse for them to be romantically involved with anyone again. For example, with this opinion that I see quite often that “Daenerys doesn’t really like Daario, it’s Drogo she wants, she will always belong with him.” Not only this is not true (Daenerys does love Daario and lusts for him), but at least her relation with Daario is consensual, you know. Daenerys is a young woman, and not even a fully grown woman yet, and many already are unwilling to accept another romantic relation for her simply because they liked the first man she was with. Same can be said for Jon Snow - “Jon’s heart is forever with Ygritte now, he should never have a love interest again.” Jon’s heart belongs only to Jon. If he will have another love interest, it is his right.

 If you really care for a character, you should be rooting for him to be happy. Don’t deny him a future and a love life because your ship happened to be their dead first lover.

Dear Louis,

looking back, it’s been an incredible ride. Many things have changed. With every step of the way, with every award you’ve received and every country you traveled to, it became more and more clear to me that you are the leader. Even though you might not want to acknowledge it fully sometimes, you’ve grown up. You feel responsible for your band, for your friends, for your family. It’s always them first and I honestly can say that I’ve never seen a more loyal and self-sacrificing friend than you.

Everyone liked you because you’re a funny guy. And that is true, but really it is more than just ‘funny’. You have exceptional timing with almost everything you say, you’re not only funny but also witty and incredibly clever. The way you tease and mock your friends and defuse delicate situations by both ambigious statements and just pure sarcasm, is just another testament about your love and devotion to this band and everyone who is in it. You care more about you as the people than you as the popstars and I respect you so much for not letting money and fame climb up in your priority list.

But it’s not only your friends and family who have a secure place in your heart, the amount of charity you do without asking for recognition or anything really in return, shows just how much love you have to give. Honestly, it’s not even about the fact that you have the money to do so, the amount of time you’re sacrificing from your rare time off and the true afford you’re willing to put into these things, is far more important. I’m still sad about how the takeover of DRFC unfortunately fell through but the more I admire your everlasting dedication and persistence, you never just give up. You are a fighter, Louis.

With all my love,


Okay some people asked me to do it so this is me being ridiculous and doing the very beginning of do you wanna build a snowman because even though I’m actually fully grown adult I should like a 5 year old. It totally freaked my mom out. Ugh

Day 03 -- How to Train Your Taemin [JongYu, PG-13, 1453w]

Yet again I prove I can’t keep things to drabble length. Thanks for prompting, anon, I hope you like it (:

Drabble a Day | Prompt Me!

“Do you want to meet my dragon?”

Jonghyun pauses with his teeth millimeters from Jinki’s neck, hands in his hair, Jinki panting between him and the tree they’ve shoved themselves against. “What?”

“It’s – you know. It’s been a while, us. Maybe it’s time.”

Jonghyun’s palms weave soft currents against Jinki’s neck down to rest at his shoulders. He’d almost forgotten about Jinki’s dragon, with how little he was mentioned. A few vague descriptions, complaints of a scratch or a burnt wardrobe thrown in. Maybe it was out of sensitivity to Jonghyun’s dragon-free lifestyle. Mothers with dragon allergies really put a cramp in one’s reptilian options. (She’d offered him a plain old consolation sheep once. He’d politely refused.)

“What’s his name again?” he asks, lips still a warm centimeter from Jinki’s adam’s apple, his tongue slipping out to trace its edges.

“Taemin.” Jinki shudders and steers their hips together, hands on Jonghyun’s waist, pushing forward until the wool of their tunics catches in the friction. Jonghyun pulls back and Jinki’s mouth kisses over his cheeks, his chin, his lips.

“Ah, yes,” he says, distracted. “Taemin. Sounds great. I like dragons. Yeah, good.” Jinki smiles tentatively. Jonghyun wisely ignores the “I hope so” that he whispers as he straightens their clothes before they head back to the village.

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WARNING: this is a huge long rant I’M SORRY but this has been on my mind for so long and seeing @livingtopanga and @barbells-and-sirens talk about it last night, i kinda came up with this messy rant.

coming from a small town, i know so many kids getting married and settling down at 19! 19!!! even 18 sometimes, and I just want scream “BUT THERE IS SO MUCH OUT THERE! THIS SMALL TOWN LIFE IS NOT THE ONLY THING YOU CAN HAVE!!!” 

I moved away from that small town and trust me it was the greatest thing ever! and don’t get me wrong, i appreciate where i grew up and where i come from and it’s so nice to go back and visit and get away but I dont understand sometimes how these kids are getting married so young, and having kids and buying houses and not experiencing life! i know that people are different and want different things but im so afraid that i’ll start logging on FB one day seeing these people so unhappy. 

I’m not against getting married at a young age. I understand that people can find who they want to be with at a young age, but it feels like such a trend back home and if you’re single and not getting married or having kids, you’re a loser. there is so much to do and live and you’re not even fully grown and you have so much to discover about yourself.

I’ve seen my mom suffer the aftermath of settling down young and it’s not pretty. She had me young, married my father cause she thought she loved and knew him, and didn’t even get to finish where she wanted to go career wise cause life got in the way. she was so unhappy, and only know after everything we went through, is she finally getting to be the person she wanted to be.

so here’s a tip to people out there if you’re feeling left out or that “single life syndrome”:

DON’T RUSH THINGS. I PROMISE YOU WILL FIGURE THINGS OUT. please figure out who you are, where you want to go, experience things you want, and learn the ins and outs of everything you are. it sounds so cliche but please fall in love with yourself. it’s so overused but when you start learning who you are, you’ll attract the right person. being in a relationship isn’t everything, despite what everyone tells you. 

and if you want to be in a relationship, THAT’S OKAY TOO! but i see so many humans think that they’ll be happy once they’re in a relationship and its just not true. 


Open Arms (yep, it’s a Journey)  T rated

So this is for sherlockian87. She wanted Open Arms and told me it was a ‘panty dropper’ - her first mistake (my little brain did this.) Hehehe.  Thank you for everything Streets! Hope you like it. Thank you MizJoely and MrsMcrieff for your help!

Also on AO3 and (chapter 6)

Oh joy! Yet another Valentines day spent alone, Molly thought as she poured herself a second glass of wine. She got up from her sofa and walked over to her front window, watching a light snow fall. After a few minutes she simply couldn’t take the silence of her flat. She switched on her telly and brought up Pandora. As she scrolled through her saved stations she realised all she really wanted to do was wallow in self pity; she was entitled to it. Her engagement was long over and she had no prospects on the horizon. Oh, then there was Sherlock. Always Sherlock. Lurking in the back of her mind every time she contemplated love… or the future… or damn near anything, but it was completely pointless.

She turned off all the lights in the flat, then sat herself down on the floor and called out pitifully for Toby (who never actually showed up). She stretched out to reach the bottle of wine for yet another refill, only to lose her balance and bump her head on the coffee table. “Suck a duck!” she exclaimed, rubbing the sore spot in her hairline. “Could this day get any worse?” she said out loud to her empty apartment. She decided to give up on the third glass, as Lionel Richie crooned in the background, saying hello and asking if it was him she was looking for.

No Lionel… it’s not you, she thought.

Just then she heard someone at her front door, fiddling with the lock. Her day was about to either get worse, or much worse. Because she was either about to be robbed/beaten/murdered or Sherlock was back from his case. He’d been gone for three weeks… Ireland or Italy? Didn’t really matter, at the moment she was trying to figure out which was worse: an unknown burglar or Sherlock bloody Holmes inconveniencing her while she was trying to get pissed and feel sorry for herself.

She decided to stay put. If she was going to die, the floor was as good a place as any.

Finally the door opened and a very tall behatted man walked in. She could tell he was wearing a hat because he was back-lit from the hallway and missing his signature curls. If she knew one thing about the man from helping him hide out during his ‘mission’ it was that he would keep that hair at almost all cost. Just a transport, my arse. She secretly compared him to Samson, wondering if he cut his hair if he’d suddenly lose his supernatural powers of deduction.

“Why are you on your floor?” Sherlock asked, shutting the door and shaking snow off of his collar.

“Why are you wearing a hat? Oh, is it the deerstalker?” Molly asked, making no attempt to get up.

“It’s bloody dark in here Molly, are you drinking alone… again? Get up!” He turned on the lamp next to her sofa then crossed over to her holding out his hand to assist her in standing up.

“I’m a grown woman. If I want to drink alone in the dark, I bloody well can!” she said in a not too friendly voice as she finally took his hand and stood. “Seriously, what’s with the hat?”

“Oh, I forgot,” he said taking it off then tossing it deftly onto the coat rack. A cocky smile formed on his lips as he watched it land easily onto a hook. He looked back at Molly, who was staring at his hair. “What?” he asked.

“You… you’re g-ginger,” she stammered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, that. For the case.” He took off his coat (not his Belstaff, no, a rough looking, leather jacket) and hung it up as well. When he turned back around Molly, she was still staring. “Molly, are you quite alright?”

She blinked several times and shook her head. “Um, yeah.” She forced a laugh. “Of course, yeah. So why are you here?” she said turning and walking into the kitchen trying hard not to think about the fact that he was also wearing dark colored jeans and a tight-fitting tee-shirt.

“I’m starving and I had nothing at Baker Street.”

She didn’t turn around. “So instead of going to a restaurant or the shops like a normal person, you came here to harass me. Lovely.” She opened her fridge.

Sherlock followed her and sat down at the kitchen table. “Well, I did just spend three weeks on a very taxing case and assumed you’d want to do your part in feeding me back up. You do so love to fuss over me, Molly,” he said in his most insincere voice.

She just shook her head as she pursed her options. “Okay, I’ve got eggs… and… yeah, just eggs.” She turned back around to face the ginger detective… big mistake. How did I not notice the sideburns, she wondered.

Thankfully Sherlock wasn’t paying attention this time, he was looking at his mobile. “Looks like I’m having eggs tonight then,” he said not looking up from the device.

Molly tried to put her attention back on the egg preparation and make some small talk. “So, Mrs. Hudson’s not in tonight?” she asked.

“She’s in Dorset,” he said still not looking up.

“Oh,” Molly replied chancing a look back at him. The music was drifting in from the sitting room. This time George Michael was singing about being someone’s father figure… she tried very hard not to think about the ridiculously sexy song as she broke eggs into a pan. She was frankly surprised that Sherlock hadn’t complained about the music yet.

“What the hell are we listening to?” he asked as he put his mobile away.

It’s like he can read my mind. “It’s Valentines Day Sherlock. I was listening to sappy love songs… alone, in my flat. I didn’t know I was going to be getting a visitor.” She popped some bread into the toaster. “And how do you not know this song? Did you even have a youth? Or did you just spring fully grown from Mycroft’s brolly?”

Sherlock actually laughed at Molly’s joke. “I did indeed have a youth, Molly. Though it’s a bit patchy in spots.”

Oh, the drugs, she thought. We’re comfortable enough to talk about that now. She turned back to him.

“I deleted unimportant things such as tragically romantic and…” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “And evidently erotic love songs from my mind palace.”

Molly drew a deep breath as she buttered the toast that had just popped up from the toaster. I reeeally didn’t need to hear him say the word 'erotic’ right now, she thought.

Finally his food was finished and she handed it to him along with a cup of tea then sat down in front of him as he ate.

He cut his eyes up at her. “Aren’t you eating anything?”

“I drank my dinner,” she said.

“You really shouldn’t drink alone, Molly sets up a bad precedent,” he said before taking a bite.

“Yes, well…” The song had long since changed, and suddenly Tina Turner was asking her what love had to do with it? Which was a very good question, now that she thought about it. As she glanced at Sherlock with his ginger curls, long sideburns and five o'clock shadow… Oh goodness she was getting herself worked up. Yes, she defiantly had a type. Tall, dark and handsome… but damn him and those sideburns. They just did something to her. And why was he somehow sexier as a ginger? She was staring, though she didn’t realise that she was.

“Molly, are you enjoying watching me eat?” Sherlock asked as he took one last drink of his tea.

She, of course, snapped out of it then. “Oh, sorry. Zoned out a bit there.” She stood up. “All finished?” she asked as she picked up the obviously empty plate. Clearly he’s finished Molly, you horny idiot, she thought at she put the plate in the sink then steadied herself against the counter top.

“You’re acting a bit strange tonight.” She heard Sherlock say from right behind her. Then she saw him put his tea cup in the sink. She cut her eyes up at him. “Ah, it’s the hair, isn’t it?”

Molly sighed. She really couldn’t get away with anything around this man, could she? It was completely unfair. “Well, you do look different.” She tried to play it off and concentrate on the music, unfortunately Chris Isaak’s Wicked Games came on… quite possibly the sexiest song in the history of…

Sherlock leant against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “So, is my hair that disconcerting that you feel the need to stare Miss Hooper.”

~What a wicked game you play to, make me feel this way.~

Molly tried very hard not to say anything stupid- anything incriminating, however when she turned to look at the man standing next to her dam just sort of… broke. “You look really fucking sexy, Sherlock, alright?!”

The smile that crept onto his face was not only alarming, it was downright terrifying.

Molly backed away from the sink trying to put as much distance between herself and the detective as possible. “Um, I mean… it’s just… too much wine. You staying here? Do I need to make up the spare?”

Sherlock followed her movements, but as she started to move down the hallway, he blocked her path and she had no choice but to dart back into the sitting room. The song was winding down and she prayed for something innocuous to come on next. Come on, I could really use some Rick Astley right now, she begged. Her prayers, however, went unanswered.

Suddenly Sherlock was right in front of her and the worst possible song came on… Molly gasped. Sherlock risked a glance at the telly. “What?” he asked.

Molly bit her lip and tried her best not to tremble. Not fair… not fair at all! A ginger, sideburned Sherlock…and Open Arms blaring in the background. Molly closed her eyes trying to regain some control. Not a smart move as it turned out, because suddenly Sherlock was very, very close.

“Dance with me Molly Hooper?” he said right next her ear as he placed a hand on her back while taking one of hers in his other hand.

“Wh-why?” she asked, eyes still close.

“Because it’s Valentines Day. Because you obviously love this song. And because I’ll only be a ginger for a few more hours.”

Molly didn’t exactly answer, but she was engulfed in Sherlock’s arms nonetheless. She didn’t dare open her eyes, she was afraid she’d wake up in the middle of the floor from the concussion she’d apparently given herself.

Sherlock leant down. “What’s with the song Molly?” he whispered in her ear.

She huffed. “Don’t want to talk about it Sherlock,” she replied through gritted teeth.


They continued to dance as the song’s end fast approaching, Molly felt Sherlock releasing her back, though he held onto to her hand. He picked up the remote and restarted the song then tossed it onto the coffee table.

“What…” she started.

“It’s a very short song.”

This time he put both of her arms around his neck and placed his hands dangerously low on her back – almost, but not quite touching her bottom.

Molly melted into his embrace. She felt like a teenager again, dancing like a couple of kids at a school disco. As the singer crooned on and on begging some unamed woman to stay with him as he came to her with open arms… Molly lost herself for just a moment. She actually forgot that she was in her pj’s in her living room dancing with the bane of her existence. That’s when she realised that the song started up yet again.

She moved her hands down to Sherlock’s well defined chest and pushed back a bit. “Sherlock? It’s playing again.”

“What’d you know?” he said with a smirk. “It will keep playing until you tell me what it is about this song that got you all… distracted, Miss Hooper.” They were still gently swaying.

It’s all just a ploy for information, she thought. Fine, if he was playing games, she’d just play along and end it before her heart got broken into tiny little pieces. “This song, it’s… well, a knicker-kicker.”

Sherlock stopped moving. “A what?”

She rolled her eyes, realising how incredibly ridiculous this would sound to the consulting detective. “A song a bloke plays to get into a girls… pants. To… get rid of her knickers. Get it?” She made a face as if it should have been obvious, which it would have been to anyone other than Sherlock Holmes. She expected a derisive sneer or snarky comment but instead, Sherlock threw his head back and laughed. A loud, lustful belly laugh.

“What? Remember you’re the one who asked,” she said defensively but with a smile forming on her lips.

He laughed a little more then looked down at her, his smile never dropping. “Apropos, don’t you think?”

“Sherlock, don’t be an asre. It’s bad enough that it’s Val…” Her words were cut off by Sherlock’s mouth as he crushed his lips to hers. Molly tensed then relaxed. The kiss was absolutely lovely. His lips were soft and warm as they glided over hers. She was just getting used to his amazing lips when suddenly his tongue grazed her lower lip. She opened to him and heard him emit a growl as he deepened the kiss. She raised her hands to his curly ginger locks just they broke for air. “Bloody hell, Sherlock! What the hell was that?”

Sherlock smirked, his eyes dancing over her face. “A kiss, Miss Hooper. Would you like another?”

Molly smiled dreamily and nodded.

He leant back down but this time he kissed her jaw just in front of her ear. “I want to kiss other parts of you too, would you like that?”

Molly’s knees started to shake. Oh, my God, she thought as Sherlock gripped her waist holding her up against a wall, that suddenly appeared behind her. When did we move…

“My hair… does something for you, doesn’t it?” he asked bringing his face square to hers, brushing his nose against hers lightly.

Molly was still stunned and a bit shell-shocked, but managed to answer. “It’s d-different… yes.”

“So we can, just for tonight, pretend… that I’m still someone you want,” he said looking almost shy.

What the… he- he thinks I don’t still want him, Molly thought. “Sherlock, it’s not just your hair…” she started.

“Yes, I deduce you’re enjoying the sideburns as well.” He placed opened mouth kisses along her jaw, trailing down her neck.

Molly tired to focus, though it wasn’t going well. His hands had moved down and were skimming just under the waistband of her pajamas as he continued to lavish her neck with kisses and gentle nibbles. “Sh-Sherlock, I– oh God, that feels good. Um, I…” Molly paused trying to decide if her were brave enough to finish her sentence.

“You what, Molly?” Sherlock asked in a voice so deep Molly was sure she could feel the reverberation in her toes.

“I- I n-never stopped wanting you,” she finally managed.

Sherlock backed up so quickly Molly almost fell over, she hadn’t even realised that she’d been leaning on him. “Yes, yes you did. Your exact words were: 'I’ve moved on’.” Molly must have made a face, even if she didn’t realise she had, because Sherlock ran his hands through his orange locks and huffed. “Gabe told me. Not to mention you were engaged and having quite a lot of sex,” he said in a mocking voice.

Molly rolled her eyes, even in the middle of… whatever was happening, because really Gabe?

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Was I close at least?”

“Not really, though I’ve heard you call him worse.” She took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know why you’re acting like this…” Molly waved her hands in the air ineffectually. “But, my engagement did end, remember? Or did you delete that?” She moved past him to walk towards her sofa. “I certainly hope not, what with all the snogging,” she mumbled under her breath.

Sherlock was right on her heals. “Molly…”

She turned around again to find herself inches away from the detective. “What Sherlock? I have no idea what you want or why you kissed me, and… said… things.”

His eyes fluttered around the room almost frantically; he seemed to be on the verge of panic. “I always miss…” he muttered to himself.

Molly was, well she was confused. She was confused and a little worked up. What in the world was going on? She felt like she’d stepped into some alternate universe. Looking up at Sherlock for some kind of direction only confused her more. He seemed to have slipped into his mind palace for a moment. She wanted him to either go and leave her to her peaceful bitterness or get on with the snogging. And damnit the song is still on repeat! Molly rushed over, grabbed the remote and hit thumbs down on Open Arms. “Oh, no. I meant to hit skip. I hate it when I do that,” she said staring at the television. It didn’t help that U2’s With or Without You came on immediately after. Molly threw her remote at her sofa in disgust. Can’t I get a freaking break tonight.

She was completely done- finished with Valentines Day, with Bono and with Sherlock’s mystery kisses. She turned off the telly, marched up to the consulting detective and goosed him… hard.

Sherlock yelped in pain as he came out of his self-imposed trance. “For God’s sake Molly! What was that for? I was thinking.”

“You invade my home, con me into cooking you dinner, then kiss me breathless. No explanation other than you usual weirdness. Now explain or get out!” Molly was almost yelling at the man by the end.

Sherlock stared down at her for several seconds then he sort of lost it. “I fancy you! Happy?” he yelled back. “I fancy you and I thought you were over me. But tonight you got that look in your eyes!”

“What look? I didn’t give you a look!” Molly yelled back, mostly because she was caught up in the fury of their argument. That would also explain how she seemed to miss the 'fancy’ part of his explanation.

“You’re denying the look when you actually said that I looked really fucking sexy?” he argued.

Well that shut her up.

Sherlock took a moment. He was just staring at Molly. His eyes softened and he lowered his voice. “I haven’t seen that look in a very long time.”

That’s when the 'fancy’ caught up to her. Oh… oooh. Molly didn’t really know what to say. Sherlock was biting his bottom lip and concentrating on her hardwood floor. Finally she couldn’t take it any more. “Sherlock,” Molly said taking a step closer as she gathered her thoughts. If this had happened three or four years ago, she would have assumed he was playing with her feelings. But not now, not since the Fall. She knew she’d seen the real Sherlock Holmes that night, this was something they were both aware of. He couldn’t fool her anymore. The experience had changed things between them. “I’m a bit confused. If you thought I wasn’t interested… anymore, then what… I mean…”

When he looked back up at her, Molly’s words died on her tongue because she saw something she’d never seen before in the detective; he looked sad and almost embarrassed. It wasn’t the look of vulnerability he given her that night before the Fall, nor was it the look of utter loss he had about him the night afterwards. This was something completely different. It frankly broke her heart.

“Honestly?” he asked and Molly nodded.

“I thought, perhaps, I could have just one night. I hoped, it would be enough.” He swallowed and looked away. “I could store it in my mind palace and hold on to it. Maybe it could,” he said struggling with his words. “Comfort me when I had to watch you fall in love, get married, have the life I can never have.”

Molly didn’t realise she’d started crying until Sherlock finally looked back up and met her eyes.

“Why are you crying, Molly?”

She had to actually think about it for a moment; she was so overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. “Because I know how this hurts- what your feeling, that is.” As much as he drove her insane, she’d never wish the kind of painful longing that she’d gone through for the last six years on him… never. Not even for a minute. She wiped the tears off of her cheeks then asked the question… the question that could possibly break two hearts at once. “Why can’t you have… that life?” What’s holding him back now?

Sherlock seemed genuinely shocked for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “Because I thought I had missed my chance.”

Molly felt relief wash over her. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest. “You’re an idiot.”

Sherlock huffed. “I assure you, Molly… I’m not.”

“Well you are. And if that’s your only reason…” She shook her head. “Oh, fuck it,” she mumbled as she launched herself into his arms. He caught her and held her tight to his chest, as this time Molly made it hard for Sherlock to form a coherent thought. She kissed him as he stumbled backwards until his legs hit her over-sized arm chair and they landed with a humph. Breaking the kiss Molly said, “I never moved on, Sherlock. I couldn’t.” She felt rather pathetic saying it out loud, even as Sherlock held her and looked at her adoringly. “But I wouldn’t have ever though you felt the same. Bloody, prideful…”

Sherlock cut her off. “Well, I think it’s quite a lucky break that I came over for nourishment this evening, Molly. Don’t you?” He kissed her again.

“You don’t believe in luck.” A breathless Molly answered when the kiss ended.

“Oh, I don’t know… ginger hair, a case in Ireland then I come home to find you alone on the most romantic, yet ridiculous holiday ever conceived. And you have to admit, of all the songs that could have played…”

“You don’t know how many times I’ve listened to that song, Sherlock. It’s no surprise that the station chose to play it.”

“But right at that moment? Come on Molly, the universe is rarely so lazy,” he said with a wide smile.

Thanks for reading. ~Lil~