breathing in the snowflakes

Camren fanfiction!! For those who do not know what to read. And write me an interesting fanfic, which is not in this list. If you can't find some fic, write me and I'll give you a link.

Completed: The Blind Side of Love; Trials and Tribulations; Yellow; Blue; Green; CC7; Do I Wanna Know; Mondays; Yours Truly; Chances; The Way To Love; Walk A Mile; Blood, Sweat And Tears; Journals; Through Her Eyes; Reason To Fight; Coffee Breaks; The Stripper; Talk To Me; Not Quite the Opposites; Color; Ain’t That A Kick in the Head; Birdgirl; The Jauregui; The Jauregui: Malfunctions and Corruption; Lifeboat Lighthouse; between heaven and disaster; For Me This is Heaven; Monochromatic; when the stars align; Hinder; Thinking Out Loud; Lie Here With Me; Wild Flowers; the sound of your heart; Breathe Easy; Question Marks; reasons to go, reasons to stay; Lost in Stone; Lazaretto; Tyrant; Wishes; The Iceberg Method; The Snowflake Method; Don’t Forget To Breath; life in an upturned boat; girl is like a sunburn; Post-Apocaplytic Aphrodisiac; The Other Roommate; A Hug Instead of Saying Something; She’s Not Normal; Love Cove; The Theory of Attraction; Pride Mates; on the road; Home; Manhattan; Into You; As If We Never Said Goodbye

Ongoing: LJ10; Linger; Professor C; through the mist ➵; Dark Paradise; Checkmate; Fallen Angel; Blame It On Bad Luck; Soluna; Blue Creek Lodge; Spring With You; To You, Graceless; Murphy’s Law; you make me sick (for being so perfect); Talk Me Down; The Trio; The Vindicated With The Monstrous; Oblivious; If It Hurts This Much (Then It Must Be Love); Good Vibes; House Of Cards; Shooting the Moon; As the Wind Changes; The Perfect Sin; With Every Sip; Come Back, Be Here; INVISIBLE; Just One Chance; Heart Hold Fast; Behind the Scenes; right there in the details; Now You Know; Time After Time; As If We Never Said Goodbye 2; The Good in Me, In My Veins

Unfinished or on hold (I don’t know): If I Lose Myself; Anatomy Of Love; Ashes To Ashes; Wolf Lake; Butterfly Culture; Till The Death Do Us Part; The Jauregui: Malfunctions and Corruption; Monotony; Stolen Moments; Beach Roses; Descent; Play Practice; Hero; Mascot Madness; The Soulmates Series; Atlas; Love Runs Out; Once Upon A December; Crave The Bet; Riptide

Broken // Jughead Jones

can you do a jughead/riverdale imagine where jughead breaks up with the reader, and the whole “squad” leaves the reader, so in despair she goes to the river to kill herself ( like what Cheryl did ) and Jughead saves her?

Warnings: Attempted Suicide, Swearing, sad jughead, blood.

Word Count: 2,625

Characters: Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews, Betty Cooper, Kevin Keller, Veronica Lodge, Cheryl Blossom.

A/N: If you ever feel like self-harming or think suicide is the answer, please, talk to me or someone. There are so many people going through this, and I’d hate for anyone to feel this way. x

— —

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Those five words had basically killed you. You knew you’d hear those words, but you didn’t expect them right now, after dating Jughead Jones for a year and three months. You hadn’t expected the words to come tumbling from his mouth. They were like bullets, each word hitting you in the heart. You had looked at the raven haired boy, who sat across from you. You were both in a booth, where you spent your time together. You had a sudden chill come over your body, the thick, khaki jacket couldn’t even keep you warm. You looked outside, the neon sign reflecting onto the window, but the thick, white snow still fell outside.

“How long?” You asked, looking back at the boy who sat in front of you. He looked emotionless, whereas you, on the other hand had tears welling up in your eyes and your hands were shaking a little bit. You bit your lip, looking around the diner. So many memories were made in this diner for you and Jughead. You had met him in this diner, along with Archie Andrews, Betty Cooper and Veronica Lodge. You had spent countless nights with him, curled up in the booth, a book in your hands as he typed away on his laptop.

“A few weeks,” Jughead said softly. He could see how broken you were right now, but he swore he didn’t feel the same. After a very intense conversation with Betty about her feelings for him, he thought he didn’t love (Y/N) anymore, but deep down, he still loved her. He was just too caught up in everything, and with Veronica pushing him to love Betty, he got confused.

You couldn’t handle seeing his face anymore. His beautiful, pale face. You looked down at your lap, hand covering your mouth as you let out a sob. ‘Don’t cry, (Y/N)…’ Jughead’s words went straight through you as you stood up, collecting your phone and book, shoving them in your bag and quickly making your way out of the diner, walking in the snow, making your way home and ending up on your bed, a sobbing mess.


None of them had talked to you in three weeks. They all sided with Jughead and immediately left you. Archie, Betty, Veronica, Kevin, even Cheryl had started befriending them all and she was giving you a few side eyes and glares.

You walked into the student lounge, one earphone in your ear as you listened to your Spotify playlist. You had left your book and water bottle on the table in the lounge. As you looked up from your phone, you saw a certain pair of blue eyes meet yours. Along with your ex-friends. Goose bumps appearing on your skin as you walked to the table, picking up the two objects you had to collect and shoving them in your bag, you looked over your shoulder, all six pairs of eyes on you. Your breathing had quickened, and you knew they all hated you. All because Jughead broke up with you. You could feel it in the atmosphere and see the look in their eyes. Running your fingers through your hair, you quickly left the student lounge and made your way out of the building, wanting to get home as soon as possible.


Another two weeks had passed and they were all still being so petty about Jughead breaking up with you and they were still taking it out on you. It had been over five weeks and they were still being so dramatic about this whole thing, but you just couldn’t handle it anymore. You closed your locker gently, looking down at your Converse clad feet and slinging your bad over your shoulder. You headed towards the doors that you walked through every morning, the ‘Core Four’ as your peers called the group that you had once been a part of, were walking straight towards you, but you were not moving out of their way. Your shoulder had grazed Jughead’s, and you looked over your shoulder, his blue eyes coming in contact with yours. He had a slight look of confusion in his features, wondering why you weren’t going the way he was going, since you both had English together. You wanted to say ‘I’m sorry’. You wanted to apologise and have him hold you, but you knew that wasn’t going to happen.

You had left the boundaries of the school, the snow falling and creating a crisp, white layer on the ground. You had taken a different route today. You weren’t going home. No. You were going somewhere that meant a lot to you, and you wanted to make sure that no one knew where to find you. The snow had gotten thicker, it reaching above your ankles at this moment, and it was getting deeper. You trudged through the snow, seeing Sweetwater River covered by a thick layer of the snow, and also a layer of ice had been hidden underneath the snow.

Your hair rested over your shoulders as you dropped your bag, letting it fall onto a log that was peeking out of the snow. You took your phone from your back pocket, staring at it for a few seconds before typing in your password and going to your messages. You clicked on Jughead’s name and started to compose a text message.

‘i don’t know why everyone hated me so much after you broke up with me. but now i understand, because i’m hating me too. i’m sorry.’


Jughead didn’t know why he suddenly got a text message from you, but as soon as he saw what you had written, he was on his feet, collecting his stuff and rushing out of the student lounge. So many thoughts were running through his head. Where were you? He tried calling you, but you didn’t answer, you were immediately declining his calls.

“Juggie!” Betty had called out to him, Archie, Kevin and Veronica also following the blonde, who was following the raven haired boy. “What happened? Is it your dad?” She continued, trying to catch up to him, but he was already out of the school doors and jogging down the stairs. “Jughead, please!”

Jughead turned around, his phone still clutched in his hand. “You! You’re all the goddamn problem! You wanted me to break up with her. You all egged me on to do it! Putting into my head that I’d be so much better with Betty! Well, no. I just wanted (Y/N) and now she fucking hates herself and I have no idea where she is, but she probably has one motive at this point and I think you all know what it is!” Jughead looked at his group of friends, his face was red, but he was almost crying.


You had managed to make it out to the middle of Sweetwater River, taking in a deep breath as the snow fell, and snowflakes had landed in your hair and on your eyelashes. It was a beautiful feeling, and you wanted it to be the last feeling you had.

Your clothes were a strong contrast against the pure white snow, and anyone could possibly see you amongst this blanket of white, but no one was around to see you disappear within the snow, so it would be like you dropped off the face of the earth.

You took a deep breath, the cold air feeling refreshing as you looked around one last time. You gripped the sharp rock that was in your hand, looking down at the snow and dropping to your knees. You pushed the snow, piling it up so you could see the ice. You raised your hands above your head, the rock still grasped in your hands. A rush of adrenaline had overcome you and you swung your hands down, hitting the rock onto the ice. A small chip had been made, but bringing the rock down onto the ice over and over again had started to show a result in what you were looking for.

“(Y/N!)” You heard a voice shout across from the shore of the river. You stood still, but looked over your shoulder. Seeing 6 people across the river, standing safely on the shore, whereas you were stood in the middle, hearing the ice creak the slightest bit made your heart beat faster. All 6 of your friends that had left you were standing there. Archie, Betty, Veronica, Kevin. Even Cheryl was stood there. But the last one, his signature denim jacket with a fleece collar and his beanie, was stood at the very edge. His eyes were wide and he was paler than usual. He was just hoping that the ice wouldn’t crack before he could talk to you.


“(Y/N), please! Just, come to the shore. We can talk through this. We’re so sorry!” Betty shouted, and Jughead gave her a side glance. Betty and Cheryl were standing behind Archie, and Veronica and Kevin were standing next to Archie. The boy that loved you so much watched as you turned around, fully facing the group of teenagers that had left you in a time of need. Jughead started forward, taking one step onto the ice. Slowly walking towards you, he told the others to not follow, because the weight of them all will surely pull them under.

“(Y/N). Come closer, please. We’re going to talk through this. It’s freezing and you’re going blue.” Jughead continued to walk towards you, but you stood exactly where you needed to. The ice was starting to crack a bit more, and you wished it would hurry up and pull you under the surface. “You know I love you and I care about you. I don’t want you to do this. I’m sorry that I was so pathetic. I should’ve known to stay with you. (Y/N), I love y-“


Betty Cooper stood there, watching the boy she had probably the slightest feelings for, confess his love to someone else. She wasn’t sure how to feel, but you loved him first, and she went out and ruined that. She felt like shit, putting it bluntly, but she would eventually get over it.

“You know I love you and I care about you. I don’t want you to do this. I’m sorry that I was so pathetic. I should’ve known to stay with you. (Y/N), I love y-“. Betty watched as Jughead’s face dropped and went pale. He stood there as his girlfriend disappeared below the surface. Archie was the first to move, bolting across the icy surface in attempt to save his best friend’s love.

“Jughead! Come on!” Veronica pushed him slightly, and Jughead realised that his girlfriend had disappeared. Archie was almost at where she had just been standing. The ginger dropped to his knees, seeing that the current had pulled her somewhere underneath the ice, which was acting like a glass floor. Jughead hand scrambled next to Archie, panting and looking at his best friend.

“Current’s pulled her under somewhere, spread out and look for her,” Archie spoke to Jughead, nodding. He watched the raven haired boy followed the way the current was going and started pushing snow from the icy floor. Archie repeated the same words he had just said to Jughead, in a louder tone. Everyone had started looking for her. Cheryl was stood at the shore, a phone to her ear. She was wearing a pair of heels, so Kevin had decided to give her is phone to call someone to get another car.

“Found her!” Veronica yelled as she pushed more snow away from the ice. Jughead looked up, his hair dishevelled and his beanie was crooked on his head. He scrambled over to where Veronica was and saw the body of his girlfriend starting to disappear deeper into the water. He looked around, in hopes to find something to break the ice with, but there was no luck. He looked at his hands, starting to beat at the ice. He groaned, his knuckles could definitely not take this type of beating, and Archie saw his best friend’s pain. Despite the words that Jughead would say to him after, he pushed him aside and started to hit the ice. So far, Archie was just cutting and breaking his knuckles, and blood was going everywhere, but he had eventually started to break the ice. His blood was mixing in with the water from the river. As soon as Archie had broken the ice, he and Jughead both reached in, grabbing onto either of your arms, pulling you onto the snowy surface.

Jughead took one look at you as he moved you away from the hole that had been created in the ice. Your skin was paler than usual, and your lips had gone blue. Your clothes stuck to your skin and you were colder than the water that was trapped under the layer of ice. “She isn’t breating,” he murmured, laying you on your back. He pumped at your chest, hoping that it would start to pump some blood into your system. Jughead shivered when he pressed his mouth against yours. It took him about three minutes to get you back, but as soon as you spluttered the water from your lungs, gasping for air, he pulled you into his chest, holding you so close to him.

Archie had given up his letterman jacket, since Jughead’s had become drenched somehow. You were in Jughead’s arms, shivering and shaken up from the events that just happened. You had realised in that very moment. As soon as your body went underneath that ice and you couldn’t pull yourself up. You actually thought you’d end up dead, and you definitely regretted putting Jughead, and everyone else through that.


“Juggie?” You whispered as you sat up in your bed. Everyone agreed to not mention anything, so Jughead took you home. You both got into the house just fine, since your parents were out of state for the week. He let you take a hot shower, got you changed into warm clothes (both you and him) and he let you sleep, while he took a shower, the scene of you dropping into the water playing over and over in your head.

Jughead looked at you. He hadn’t spoken much, because he didn’t know if he was going to burst out crying. He had just brought you back from basically dying, and he was still shaking up.

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke softly. Your skin was still crawling with goosebumps. Your room was probably as warm as a sauna or something. The heater was on, you had two blankets on, a pair of pyjama pants on, a hoodie and a fuzzy pair of socks, but you still felt cold. You felt so cold and heartless for attempting to do that, especially in front of Jughead.

“For what? If I hadn’t had arrived when I had, you’d probably be at the bottom of Sweetwater River right now, dead. And no one would probably know until summer, and that’s what scared me so much. I love you and I don’t want you to go anywhere right now. It’s tough for both of us, I know. And I am the worst person for pulling that on you, and being so pathetic about it.” He sat on the edge of your bed, looking at you. “Please, please. Don’t leave me,” Jughead’s voice broke as he leant forward, head resting on your shoulder. Small sobs could be heard, and your heart shattered into a million pieces. It was you that broke Jughead Jones. And you’d have to live with that for the rest of your life.

Meant to Be - Part Eighteen: Alone

All Parts

Request: Soulmate AU – When soulmates draw on themselves, it appears on the other’s skin as well.

Tagging: @elenarte @empyrealsakaki @gum-and-chips @karenthepoop @hammytrashy @falling-open  @urstupidmom @olympun @rebel-with-cause @mishaisakitten @depressionjoke @gemilton @ur-friendly-neighborhood-fangirl @regionallyblurredfaces @destiel-addict-forever @sxnyalxveshxrses@theinevitablesense @boiugotmehopeless @rachurro @hamilton-of-issues @phantom10526 @feral-tomcat-hamilton @alonelynoodle @ilesserpanda@kyloslightsaberdick @msageofenlightenment @pentagramtardis @artisticgamer @smol-angery-bean @abbylikeschickennuggets @little-miss-vanilla @marquisdelargebagutte @cant-we-just-dance @commandergreysonpike @abbyg14 @ixhadbadxdays  @pipindaae @series-killerr @creepycute08 @villaintv @brienne-evenfall @sunshinerainbowunicorn @trickstrqueen @liv-livingafandomlife @gamzeenmakara @ham-for-ham @fruityfrootloops @canyoubemyfour @whimsicalfangirlthings @kakapo-the-owl-parrot @ssnips @iimnotyourson @theonethatscalledtay @k9effect@meagisnotamazing @lunahdeer @karoline-phantom @aham-threw-his-shot-away @arissanoddle @autistic-alien @aceplaysbass @bathtab @xthaynesxalcoholx @sovaill @jamiltone @youreyesaretherealtruthtellers @artandshitposts @gold-cleaver @externallyandinternallyscreaming @iloveunicorns64 @arieava @mayzietuff @betweeneverytwopines @bisexual-baka @sparrowb07@iswearimsmol @gad-jeffs @actual-dorito-steve-rogers @turtlesneedglasses @shock-blanket @angelicaelizaandpeggu @totallyademigod @karmana-stevens-569 @honakanee @i-d-e-k-any-more @the-other-fifty-1 @thendergirl  @toomuchartsstuff @alibug134 @notthrowingawaymyfood@passiveaggressivelittlelion @bestfluteninja @multifandomweirdo @quiet-fawn-of-the-galaxy @trashy-dinosaur @iamindeedapotato @dismayed-mindset @trash-sicle @sammylynne321 @hamillton-laurens @ahyesfandoms @graycefulart @8grapenerds @jeffmads34 @sazzyli123 @drugsdiggs @sufferment @ideal-trash @etm13 @myotpisnotstraight

Word Count: 3786

WARNINGS: swearing, anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of homophobia, depression

Dedicated to: @hercdotmulligan @maiseylarks @toomuchartsstuff and @aliencoffeh for their amAZING art <3

A/N: yikes this is a long one but … today might be that day  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

As soon as Alex left Aaron’s property, he felt a cold weight drop into his stomach. His brain screamed at him to turn around; to go back to his soulmate. Thomas was willing to work things out now; why would he prolong their separation?

He half-turned back, but steeled himself. This was the right decision. It had to be. He let his feet take him wherever they would, not wanting to go back home, not wanting to go back to the party. For once in his life, he thought that maybe being alone would be best.

He wandered down John’s familiar street, trying to tamp down the rising panic. Alone was good. He could make it good.

Keep reading

loversinger0619  asked:

I love your fic rec lists! I am looking for fics with Johnlock trapped in a small spaces (ie: closets or trunks) or fics with dirty talk. Thank you!

Hi Lovely!! 

You know, I know I’ve read quite a bit of fics with the tight spaces scenario, but only two come to mind right now because I just recently re-read them to add to my fic rec lists:

• Just a Kiss by emmagrant01 (E, 19,695w. || Case Fic, 5+1, For a Case) – Five times John and Sherlock kissed because of a case and one time they kissed for real. (Chapter 7 is the one you want :D)

• Closeted by sussexbound (T, 6,115 w. || Love Confessions, Truth or Dare, First Kiss) – John and Sherlock end up trapped in a closet overnight while on a case. John has an idea on how to pass the time. Part 1 of Intimacy

And Here’s a few with Dirty Talk:

• Onomatopoeia by aquabelacqua (M, 6,904 w.|| Sherlock POV, First Time/Kiss, Chair Sex, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk) – Something is the matter with John. Sherlock is determined to figure out what it is. Mark his words.

• Perfect Solo by Itsallfine (E, 2,384 w. || Frottage, Fantasy, Sex Toys, Dirty Talk, Solo) – Sherlock couldn’t decide how he wanted to have John that night. (The one where Sherlock uses his box of sex toys to take himself apart in every way John might have him.) 

• Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,717 w. || Dirty Talk, Coming in Pants / Untouched) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock’s Kinky First Times

• A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w. || Sex / Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Solo, Pining, POV John) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

• There’s Something Living in These Lines by teahigh (orphan_account) (M, 4,676 w. || Pining, Angst, Love Letters, UST, Dirty Talk, Hiatus) – Two men, complete opposites in almost every way, who speak only in letters and pages torn from books.

• And if you say the word, I could stay with you by CaitlinFairchild (E, 12,842 w. || Domestic Fluff, Dirty Talk, Anal, Fluff and Smut) – What Sherlock thinks is, On the day I die, be it in a dirty alley at forty or in my bed at eighty, the last thing I will remember is tonight, the way you looked at at me on the snowy pavement, cheeks pink with the cold, breath puffing in frosty white clouds, your heart in your eyes and snowflakes in your hair. I will remember that single perfect moment in my life, that moment I knew I had everything I ever wanted, and whatever happens next, I will die content. What he says is simply, “Marry me.”

• A Cure For Boredom by emmagrant01 (E, 81,665 w. || Dirty Talk, Threesomes, Light Dom/Sub, Sex Club, Experiments, Anal, Mildly Dubious Consent) – They’d never talked about sex in the year they’d known each other. Well, that wasn’t quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

I hope this list suffices a bit! As always, feel free to add some of your faves, Lovelies! 


AN: A drabble request from @chanting-to-u for some Gray, Loke, and Cana Brotp for a coffee shop AU. I added some Gruvia for good measure.

This takes place in the same universe as Sugar, Spice and Ice.

Gray huffed and drummed his fingers against the cover of his sketchbook, as his eyes lingered on Cana’s back.

She’d been chatting with the blue haired barista for a solid five minutes. Giggles and hand gestures had been exchanged, but there was no sign of their drinks being started and Gray found himself growing impatient.

He shifted in his seat, flipped open the sketchbook to a blank page and glanced out the window, hoping to distract himself. He caught sight of Loke’s bright orange hair crossing the street, and raised his hand in greeting.

Loke caught sight of Gray as he hit the curb and waved back. He paused to fix his hair and straighten his suit, then sauntered towards the entrance.

A soft scrape and a thud came from the chair across from Gray as Cana dropped into it. She grinned at Gray, and had a look in her eyes that Gray knew meant she was up to something, and he was about to be dragged into it.

“I get that you wanted to flirt, but I don’t see why I couldn’t have ordered my own coffee,” Gray said, shooting her a look that he hoped would convey he was not interested in her schemes.

Cana waved him off. “I wasn’t flirting. Juv’s straight as a board.” She glanced back towards the barista and wrinkled her nose. “It’s a damn shame though, she’s cute.”

“Then I’m even more confused about why I couldn’t just order.”

“It’s a surprised,” Cana replied, wicked little grin widening.

Gray scowl deepened.

Loke laughed, appearing behind Gray, and clapped a hand on Gray’s shoulder. “Uh oh, you got in the way of his morning cup of coffee?” He slid into the chair on Gray’s right.

Cana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’ll be worth it.”

Loke raised a manicured brow at her and Gray glanced back out the window.

“Yeesh, it’s like neither of you trust me,” Cana grumbled.

“With good reason,” Gray countered.

Loke shrugged. “It’s not a lack of trust on my part, I just don’t want to deal with His Grumpiness before he’s been properly caffeinated. Got enough of that when we lived together.”

Cana cackled in response and Gray shot Loke a withering glare. “Remind me again why I hang out with either of you?”

“No idea,” Loke said.

“We don’t really give you much of a choice.” Cana smirked at Gray. “But you’d be bored as hell without us.”

Gray thought about arguing that, or pointing out that he could do with a bit of boring from time to time. Or at least some quiet. There was a time when he used to be able to enjoy mornings like this, walk into a cafe and spend the day sketching and watching the world go by.

Then Cana and Loke found out and made it their mission to join him. He tried to protest, but the words, loner and depression started getting thrown around and rather than have to listen to another lecture about how he was handling his life he relented to their company.

If he was honest, he usually ended up appreciating the company, he just found it hard to remember why when he was being deprived of caffeine.

“Here’s your order.” The blue haired barista announced, and placed three large mugs on the table between them.

Gray’s breath caught as he took in the intricate designs of the foam. A snowflake for him, a fairy for Cana and a lion for Loke. He stared at the drinks then looked up at the girl, then back to the art before him. “You made these?”

She blushed and nodded. “Juvia hopes you like yours. Cana-san said Gray-sama was an artist.”

Heat crept up Gray’s neck at the honourific. Leave it to Cana to bring that up again.

“Uh, yeah. Mostly sculpture, but I like to sketch too.” Gray held up the sketchbook.

Juvia nodded and smile shyly. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the tray she was carrying. “Juvia would love to see some of Gray’s sketches some time.” She worried her lip and glanced away, then her eyes popped open and latched back onto him. “That is if Gray-sama is okay with sharing. Juvia didn’t mean to ass-”

“Sure,” Gray said, cutting her off before she could get much further. He smiled back at her, in an attempt to ease her nerves, only for her to blush harder.

“You should offer to model for him some time,” Loke said, flashing her a charming smile and letting his eyes wander her figure before winking at her. “Pretty girl like you could inspire all sorts of things.”

Gray glared at Loke. Sure he was looking for models, but the way Loke said it made it sound like a whole other kind of invitation.

Cana rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, he’s a pervert,” she said with a dismissive wave, before grinning up at Juvia and grabbing her hand. “But you really should model for Gray. You’d probably have to meet him at his place though, since he doesn’t get out much, but you could make a couple latte’s afterwards and show him how you do your thing. Maybe get to know each other.”

Gray bristled. “Oi! What is this, some kind of setup?” He glared at his friends before sighing and offering Juvia and apologetic look. “Sorry, they think I’m a shut in with no life.”

“You are a shut in with no life,” Cana muttered. She released Juvia, crossed her arms over her chest and glared back at Gray.

“It’s okay,” Juvia said. “Juvia doesn’t mind.” Her eyes eyes widened and she blushed. “That is, Juvia would be happy to model for you, not that she wants to be set up with you. Not that she doesn’t- um, that is-”

Gray couldn’t help but smile at how flustered she was getting. It was kinda cute. She was kinda cute.

Juvia hung her head, her cheeks a brilliant shade of pink. “Juvia is going to go back to work now.”

Gray nodded. “I’ll talk to you later about the modeling, without these two meddlers.”

Juvia looked shocked, then nodded before scurrying back behind the counter, where she was greeted by a pink haired coworker who slung and arm around her shoulder and proceeded to tease her.

Gray felt a bit bad for her, he could definitely relate.

“See, totally worth it,” Cana announced, looking all too proud of herself.

Loke nodded and grinned at Gray. “You should totally do something about that crush she’s got for you too.”

“Preferably before she realizes you’re a train wreck and an asshole.”

Gray rolled his eyes and glanced out the window instead of dignifying either of them with a response. Anything he said at this point would just be used against him. Still, he couldn’t help trying to catch glimpses of Juvia through the reflections on the window, and he didn’t miss the knowing glances Cana and Loke exchanged.

He knew they were right, they knew they were right, but the best thing about them was he never had to say it.

Explaining misophonia to teachers is the worst. Like, how do you say “I can’t sit next to this person because they breathe loudly” without sounding like
A) a special little snowflake, or
B) some kid that is getting REAL creative with their excuses to sit next to their best friends

Terms Of Surrender

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Words: 945
Plot: King Edmund and the reader have a snowball fight. It’s too cute for life.
A/N: I’ve been thinking to myself for a while “Hope, you know who you should totally write more of?” The cutie that is Edmund Pevensie. And then it happened. And it was worth.

Originally posted by mleko55

Delicate snowflakes fluttered in the soft breeze, crisp against the grassy meadow as Edmund kicked a dandelion poking out from the white blanket. His lashes dusted his reddened cheeks from the cold, his breath clouding the air in thick wisps.

“Alright Ed, this is very well and good” Lucy chimed, her arms crossed against her chest “but it’s absolutely freezing up here”.
Edmund grinned slyly, tilting his head to the side. “A bit cold for you, Lu?”
(y/n) laughed, and the sound was like music on the breeze; sharp notes against the crisp air “don’t worry, Lucy. You’ll get your revenge”.
Edmund scoffed, ruffling the snowflakes from his hair “Lu isn’t as vindictive as you are, (y/n). Not yet, anyhow.”
(y/n) muttered something about kings being more respectful to their subjects, and Lucy laughed so hard that Edmund’s cheeks flushed.
“Look” Edmund coughed, turning to face the two girls “it’s all very well and good to talk the talk if you’re not going to act on it”.
Lu cocked her brow, stopping in the snow to stare at Edmund, a smile creeping across her features slowly.
(y/n) bit her lip, her eyes rising to meet Edmund’s, and he felt his heart stutter. When she looked at him like that; he felt as though the world was standing still; even the very earth seemed to fall away beneath his feet.

Completely distracted, Edmund didn’t even comprehend the ball of snow when it shattered against his cheek, snowflakes spraying across his jaw in a thousand tiny fractals. The bitter cold stunned him for a second, before he gritted his teeth, a laugh breaking through his throat. (y/n) had taken her chance when she’d been given it; and now the real game would begin.
“You asked for it!” Edmund grinned, sprinting towards a nearby boulder as Lucy cried out, scooping a pile of snow up from the ground. (y/n) reacted almost as quickly, turning to back behind the nearest tree.
Edmund took a fistfull of snow in his gloved hand, packing it down with dilligence. Popping up from his cover, he hurled the ball of ice at Lucy.
Seeing her impending doom at the hands of such a large snowball, Lucy shrieked loudy, ducking face-first into the snow and covering her face in white snowflakes.
“We surrender!” (y/n) cried out from behind the old oak, her hands pressed against the trunk of the tree “I’ll be willing to negotiate the terms of our surrender on common ground”.

Edmund laughed, stuffing more snow into his palm “if this is a ruse, your King can, and will, snowball you into oblivion”.
“No ruse, sire. We’ve truly been rumbled” (y/n) called, pushing away from the tree and into Edmund’s line of sight. 
Edmund swallowed, stumbling up and walking towards the middle of the field. Lucy sat in a pile of snow, a curious amusement plastered on her face, as (y/n) brushed her hair back from her shoulders with one gloved hand, her silk dress trailing in the soft snow as she made her way to Edmund.
When they were an arm’s breadth away from eachother, (y/n) stopped, her lips softly twitching upward as her lashes fluttered, tiny snowflakes framing her eyes. Edmund felt the breath leaving his lungs, his pale face flushing with warmth as he looked down at his feet.
“I hear you’ve given up” Edmund smirked, his hands clasped behind his back “or is this all a cunning plot to take advantage of my trusting nature?”
“That’ll be the day, Ed!” Lucy cried out from across the field, falling back into the snow with a laugh.
(y/n) chuckled, running her fingers across her chin in thought “we will surrender, Ed. On one condition.”
Edmund swallowed.
“Anything” he breathed, biting his bottom lip.
“A kiss” (y/n) whispered, her finger tapping her cheek, flushed from the icy breeze.

Edmund felt his head spin, his heart leaping forwards as butterflies filled his stomach.
Was this real life? Was this happening? Here, now?
“I…accept. These seem like suitable terms” Edmund smiled, taking several steps closer to her. He could smell her perfume; violets and rain, and saw the way her hair curled softly against her cheekbone in the snow. He felt a force pulling him closer; like a soft magic, winding through his head and making everything else fade away.
She turned her cheek towards him, a nervous breath escaping her lips in a cloud of warmth.
Impulsively, slowly, Edmund dropped the snowball he was holding on the ground, the sound of snow on snow ruffling behind him. Dusting his glove against his tunic, he swallowed, placing his index finger on the curve of her jaw, turning her face back to his.
He felt his hand shaking, felt the fire burning wildly in his veins, scorching them. When he’d first arrived at Narnia, he’d just been a boy. But several years had passed; and now, he was no longer the starry-eyed child from another world.
He was a King.
He was a man.
Clenching his jaw, he held her jaw, stroking across her cheekbone with his thumb. And slowly, softly, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his.
Edmund felt his heartbeat in his lips, felt the world standing still, more still than he ever thought possible. He could taste the snowflakes against her tongue, crisp against the pressure of his lips, and he quietly moaned, leaning into her.
He wanted…
Lucy shrieked in joy, and Edmund broke away with a start, his face practically glowing redder than the hottest fire.
“I knew it!” Lucy cried, her hands raised in joy “this is a good day to be alive!”

That it was.

9 Times…-Chapter V

Ahh I have not updated in so long! 
School has been such a pain omg

Title: 9 Times Peter Parker Nearly Said ‘I Love You’ and the 1 Time He Did - Chapter V
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: You and Peter mess around while walking to a study session together
Word Count: 303
Warnings: None
Tagged: @icat8 @pixierox101 @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @ginnyweasels @tmrhollandkay

Your name: submit What is this?

               “Peter, don’t!” you yell, holding your hands up in defense as Peter throws another snowball at you.

           You let out a yelp as the cold snow hits you. Peter laughs with amusement, but quickly stops when you retaliate.

           "Oh come on,“ he complains, brushing off the snow from the strap of his backpack. "I have my laptop in here.”

           You roll your eyes. “You’re the one who started it.”

Keep reading

profess your love

’cause a storm is bound to come

borrow hope to understand

take my hand, take my hand

“Your pops told me you’d be out here.”

Todoroki lifts his eyes from where he’d been catching snowflakes on his fingers. His breath puffs in front of his scarf and his face, obscuring his view of Kirishima for a moment. When the exhalation clears, he sees that Kirishima is smiling at him, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You’re a fair way from home,” Todoroki says. “Crimson Riot’s agency doesn’t operate here usually, do they?”

“Nope,” Kirishima agrees. “I’m here on my own.” He gestures to the space on the concrete block next to Todoroki. “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Not at all,” Todoroki says. He passes a hand over the concrete and evaporates the snow that had landed on it. Kirishima settles onto the block, shoulder bumping Todoroki’s. This close, Todoroki can see the slashes that mar his face. They’re cracks across his lips and wounds over the bridge of his nose, still scabbed over. He didn’t need to bandage them now, but it was obvious they were too deep to heal. Todoroki was familiar with that.

He shifts in place, as if he can feel the ruined flesh of his lower back and hip, the skin grafts that never quite took. It’s a phantom itch, a phantom pain, but sometimes to Todoroki, it feels a real as the moment Shigaraki’s hand touches his side and lit him up.

“It’s chilly on the roof,” Kirishima says. He huffs, a cloud of breath forming in front of his face. “Thought even you’d get cold after a while.”

“Temperature regulation,” Todoroki says. He hadn’t been at an uncomfortable temperature since he was six or so. “I like to clear my head.”

Kirishima nods. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Neither of them are talking about fledgling hero work.

Kirishima’s quiet for a moment, and then, “How often do you–”

“Every day,” Todoroki says. “If I had pushed just a little harder…”

“If I had been just a little bit faster…” Kirishima echoes. “Yeah. Me too.”

Another moment of silence.

“Do you think it goes away?” Todoroki asks, voice barely audible.

“After we forgive ourselves, I guess,” Kirishima says.

“Not the guilt,” Todoroki says. “The love.”

“Oh,” Kirishima says.

Todoroki tilts his head back. A snowflake lands on his nose and he crystallizes it, balancing the flake upright. “‘It’s your power,’“ he says with a sigh.

Kriishima makes an interrogative noise.

“He said that to me, four years ago,” Todoroki says. “I wonder…if he hadn’t. I wonder what would’ve happened.”

“The outcome wouldn’t change,” Kirishima says. “It might have happened even earlier.”

“He’s stupid,” Todoroki agrees. “Nearly losing his arms, nearly losing his life, and then–” He melts the snowflake. “It was going to happen, I guess. But maybe, if I hadn’t met him…”

He closes his eyes. “I love him. I still…”

“Yeah,” Kirishima says. “Me too. They’re both so fucking stupid, huh?”

“The worst,” Todoroki agrees. Opens his eyes. “If it was always going to hurt like this, then maybe it would have been better if our paths never crossed in the first place.”

“Really?” Kirishima smiles at his clasped hands. “I’ve never regretted it once.”

“But to lose him–”

Kirishima grasps at his jacket, tight enough to show the whites on his knuckles. “It proves he was real,” Kirishima murmurs. “It proves what we had was real. Don’t you know? If it’s hurting so bad you can hardly see, hardly wake up in the morning, it means it was real. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Todoroki presses a hand to his chest. “Real,” he says. “He was real.”

Todoroki tucks his face into his scarf. “I can’t touch him now,” he says. “Maybe he was real, but he’s not anymore.”

“Hey,” Kirishima says, and then his hand is over Todoroki’s, grasping at his chest. Even being his warm side, Todoroki hadn’t noticed how cold his left hand had become.

“They’re real,” Kirishima says. “I feel him every day i wake up alone. And every day he doesn’t text back. And every day I see the memorial they’re constructing.”

“That’s painful,” Todoroki whispers.

“That’s real,” Kirishima says. “The four of us are real.”

Todoroki is still for a moment. Then, he lets out a long sigh and leans into Kirishima’s side, resting his cheek against Kirishima’s shoulder. Kirishima intertwines the fingers of their hands and their clasped hands lower to the concrete.

“We’re alive,” Todoroki says.

“Yes,” Kirishima says.

“Even though we don’t want to be.”


“That’s painful,” Todoroki says again. Above them, clouds block out the stars and moon. Snow starts to fall heavier, dusting their shoulders and thighs and the tops of their heads. Even with his temperature regulation, the only part of his body that feels warm is the hand Kirishima is holding.

“I made a promise,” Kirishima says. “To Midoriya.”

“When?” Todoroki asks.

“Yesterday,” Kirishima says. “I promised him I’d protect you. Look after you.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Todoroki says.

“I know,” Kirishima says. “But I know he’d look after Bakugou for me.”

Todoroki mulls that over.

“I don’t think he’d accept a promise from me,” Todoroki says slowly. “Seeing as he hated my guts to the very end. Probably doesn’t trust me within spitting distance of you. ‘Like hell you know how to take care of him, half-and-half bastard.’ Like that. But I think I owe it to him to look after you, too.”

Todoroki can’t see it, but he knows Kirishima is smiling. “What a couple of sorry suckers we are,” he says. “Our soulmates kick the bucket and all we can do is cuddle in the snow. Not very good at coping, are we?”

“The company’s not bad though,” Todoroki says.

“No,” Kirishima says, squeezing his hand. “It’s not bad at all.”

Pinch Of Nutmeg - Part 3

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: 2300

Summary: The reader is a young and upcoming chef who takes up an opportunity in Vancouver where she by chance befriends Jensen.  After several years apart and seeing each other at a convention, (Part One WC:6500) the reader and Jensen try and decide how they should move forward but each go their separate ways. (Part Two) Now, six months after Chicago, Jensen seeks out the reader to see if any feelings remain.

Obviously I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time.

Again, this is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye for you. You thought about Jensen often, but avoiding the celebrity gossip sites and twitter helped. You searched through new job opportunities and regardless of Scott’s continuous offers, something kept you in your hodunk town. Technically, it wasn’t as small as Scott made it out to be. Some parts felt big city but you easily could drive to country living. It was small enough to know every corner but big enough to get lost in a sea of faces.

Whether out of spite or playful fun, you decided on adding a cheese fondue appetizer to the winter’s seasonal menu. One that if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine being in the Swiss Alps.

At home on late nights, you would look up far off destinations. You’d narrowed it down to Iceland or Peru. Both vastly different from each other but both far enough away from here. You had plans lined up for either one. Probably at least a three month stay. Your passport was still active from when you lived in Vancouver. God, you missed that place. That little one bedroom apartment that costed twice if not triple as much as your two bedroom did now. And the meals you would make with such little counter space and crappy appliances. There were also the nights when you and Jay would just order a pizza. You’d set a sheet down in the middle of the living room floor making almost an indoor picnic and talk with him into the late hours of the night.

You slammed your laptop shut, trying to jerk yourself from the memory. You looked at your clock and figured you might as well go to bed. Your cat followed you and once you were settled, he nested down by your legs. What you saw as affection others may think of it as a commensalism relationship. But he meant the world to you. You petted his head gently before you drifted off.

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h-y-p-h-e-n-d-o-t-s  asked:

Victuuri cuddles. idk any soft fluff for those two dorks pretty please?


“Victor, what are you doing out here?”

Victor glanced behind him and smiled at the sight he saw.

His beautiful fiancé stood with a blanket wrapped around his form while rubbing an eye tiredly.

“Sorry, Yusha, did I wake you?” He questioned, earning a shake of his head from Yuuri.

“No, woke up and you weren’t there,” Yuuri mumbled. He hummed while watching his fiancé as he shuffled his way around the couch before settled down beside him. Victor smiled as Yuuri draped the blanket over them both before going still against his side with a big sigh.

“Why are you out here?” Yuuri mumbled as he wrapped an arm around his fiancé, holding him tightly while turning his gaze back to the window.

He hadn’t been unable to sleep, despite having a warm fiancé to cuddle and an early training session planned with Yakov in the morning. He had been lying awake for a while, watching Yuuri sleep for a while before deciding to get out of bed and amuse himself other ways.

Watching snow fall had always been one of the easiest ways for him to fall asleep when he was younger, so he had opened up the curtains in the lounge room and sat himself on the couch to watch the snow fall, hoping that it would lull him to sleep.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he settled down on the couch, but what he was sure of was that he hadn’t fallen asleep. He had been hypnotized by the slowly falling snowflakes that covered the ground in white.

“Wanted to watch the snow,” he mumbled softly before turning his head to plant a kiss on top of Yuuri’s head.

“Was cold without you,” Yuuri mumbled while wrapping him up in a tight hug. He chuckled softly as his fiancé captured his full attention. Yuuri shifted around for a moment until he seemed to find a comfortable enough position to settle down to sleep beside him. Victor lifted a hand up to run it through Yuuri’s hair to help him draft back off.

“Go back to sleep, Yusha,” he mumbled softly, earning a soft hum from his already half asleep fiancé.

“Sleep well, Lyubimyy,” Victor whispered as Yuuri’s breathing levelled out. He watched his future-husband sleep for a moment before turning back to the ever-falling snow.

He wasn’t sure what had suddenly changed, but Victor found his eyes slowly starting to drift shut. He hummed while shifting around into a comfortable position, making sure not to wake Yuuri.

Victor let out a soft sigh as he found himself drifting to sleep with his fiancés breathing and slowly falling snowflakes.

Frost Dragon

The dragon that appeared before me had very light blue scales that looked like ice. As he moved, white clouds of frost and snowflakes would fall off his body and then land on the floor where they immediately melted. He was large but small enough to fit his whole body inside my room. We exchanged greetings and then I commented on his size, being that he was much smaller than I expected. “I shrunk down my size for you,” he explained before showing me his actual size where only one of his legs could fit inside my room, the rest of him went out of the walls. Returning back to his smaller size, he jumped up onto my bed where I sat and lied down. Once he got situated I inquired as to why he was in a place as hot as this.

“Am I not allowed to go where I please?” he rested his head down on his front legs, “It’s still winter, is it not? I felt like taking a summer vacation…except in the winter. It’d be too hot for me if I came here outside of winter.”

I asked if he talks with humans much.

“No, not really. Where I live in the Arctic there’s not a lot to speak with.” He gave me a vision of his home but all I could see was a strong blizzard.

I then asked if he takes frequent vacations.

“No, not really. I can only take so much heat. But sometimes it’s nice to see my coastal brethren.”

“Do you talk with them a lot?” I inquired.

His eyes lit up, “Oh yes! A lot about fishing and hunting. Family too. Did you know George got a new kid?”

“Who’s George?” I said though I got the feeling that this was a joke of some sort.

“Ah, of course you wouldn’t know George,” he replied with a playful smile. I then asked him how people can meet frost dragons.

“Live somewhere cold,” he snorted, “but we’re pretty solitary. Not really looking for companions, not all of us at least.” I mentioned to him that was the case for a lot of different species and then asked if he was interested in a companion and that’s why he answered my call.

“No, I just thought your call was interesting, decided to check it out. You have a lot of weird stuff going on,” he added as he jumped off my bed and looked at one of my companions right in her face. She blew smoke from her pipe on him which he sneezed out before taking a few steps back from her.

I asked him what I should do with the offering that I made for him while holding it up.

“I’ll take it!” he said as he pulled the etheric copy out of my hands.

“Should I just dump it now?” I inquired. I’ve never made offerings of this kind before which is why I wasn’t sure about the protocol.

“Yeah, or enchant it with your energy! It’s pretty much a blank state right now. Actually, let me enchant it for you!”

“Then what was the point of giving you an offering?” I joked.

“Hey, don’t complain.” He blew out a breath of the white frost clouds and snowflakes onto the physical offering and my hands felt a little bit cold. He then stretched out his wings and got ready to leave. “I’m going to head off, unless you have one more question?”

“I’m okay,” I replied, “thanks for coming. You know, frost dragons are my favorite dragons.”

“Then what are you doing here?” he laughed referring to the hot climate that I’m in.

“I like the sun,” I answered.

“Pfft, come to the Arctic sometime, you’ll really be liking the sun whenever or if it ever actually appears,” and with that he flew away.

Blue is the sunlight filtering through trees in the morning. She’s a field of flowers; bluebells and daisies and snow drops and honeysuckle. She’s the drive to breakfast on a Sunday morning at 7am, yawning against your knuckle, turning your face into the sun. She’s pancakes with berries and yoghurt, honey and coffee and sticky vinyl tables. She’s oversized knitwear, hiding you face behind scarves, your hands balled up in sleeves. She’s kicking up leaves in mud-splattered boots and wind flushed cheeks and unapologetic laughter. She’s the hushed silence at the end of the night.

Gansey is the sound of a library at two am. He’s murmurs over coffee, the sound of a page turning. He’s the first stretch after you wake up, lazy smiles over pillows, that little laugh you do to break the silence. He’s the way you push your glasses up your nose, the embodiment of a whirring thought. He’s the burn in your lungs after running up a hill, gulping air like liquid life into your lungs. He’s grass and morning dew, light and fresh and just the right side of cold. He’s the trip in your gut when you miss a step, the pad of a thumb over a cheek. He’s looking at the stars on a clear winter night.

Noah is the first conversation in the morning. He’s the smell of cooking waffles, cream and sugar and syrup. He’s drawings in a foggy mirror, the steam pouring from a shower. He’s the biting chill of frost, the thrill of slipping on ice. He’s winter gloves and duffle jackets and laughing at each other being silly. He’s snowflakes stuck in your hair, your breath on a cold day. He’s art, paint smudged on your cheek, deliberate movements. He’s milkshakes when it’s too cold, brain freeze, pastel coloured diners. He’s pale pinks and washed out greys and cold blues. He’s the catch in your chest when you see something beautiful. 

Adam is dusty summers, tumbleweeds and shielding your eyes from the sun. He’s your favourite pair of shoes, reliable and soft. He’s the night someone puts their arms around you while staring at the stars, the sound of silence. He’s the way your lip twitches when you hear a joke you shouldn’t laugh at. He’s the smell of the ground after rain, water rolling down your spine. He’s the flickering lightbulb hanging loose from your ceiling, a single streetlamp on a forgotten road. He’s running when you have no idea where you’re going, the small exhale of breath when you come to a stop. He’s the gentle hush when you wake up beside someone you love. He’s the hands that hold you when you think you’re falling apart. 

Ronan is smoke and tyres and burning rubber. He’s the anticipation of a street light turning green. He’s soft whispers across your skin, teeth dragging over your lip. He’s a shout and a whimper, the two of them combined. He’s satisfied smiles and longing eyes. He’s digging up soil with your bare hands, dirt trapped under your finger nails. He’s confident winks and subtle touches, a steady hand at the base of your spine. He’s balled fists and shattered windows and blood splattered floors. He’s the sensation of being home in a place you’ve never been. He’s coffee and split lips and gold chains with crosses hanging just out of sight. He’s the chink of light through the window of a dark room. He’s the embodiment of Autumn; just the right side of falling apart. 

the-softest-of-epilogues  asked:

Prompt if you're interested: Person A offhandedly mentions they want a dog, Person B makes it happen. Coldflash? Please

Sunday mornings are Len’s favourite.  It’s his and Barry’s one opportunity to simply stay in bed, relax and talk.  Sometimes they speak about their weeks, sharing funny anecdotes or concerns, sometimes they talk about their past, the good, the bad and the ugly.  Today, Barry was telling Len about some of the happier moments of his childhood before his mom died.  

“We had a dog, you know,” Barry murmurs, his head rested on Len’s chest.  He’s essentially using Len as a full body pillow, not that he’s complaining.  “My parents got her before I was born so I can only really remember her when she was pretty old.”

“What kind was she?” Len asks, stroking a hand down Barry’s spine.

“A Labrador,” Barry replies wistfully.  “Her name was Millie.  Even though she struggled to walk near the end, she always made to greet you when you came home.  I remember one time I was sick and apart from food and obligatory walks, she never left my bedside.  There’s nothing like a dog’s loyalty.”

“We never had pets growing up,” Len says, unable to keep out all the bitterness.  “It wasn’t really the sorta household for one.”

“Do you ever want a pet now?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.  I definitely wanted one when I was a kid but with my life-style…neber really had time to take care of one.”

Barry hums, the vibrations running across Len’s chest.  The speedster draws lazy patterns against Len’s skin that soothe him closer and closer back to sleep.

“Maybe one day we could get one?”  Barry asks and with him on the cusp of slumber, he barely hears the question, only repeating a slurred ‘maybe’ before succumbing.  He thinks no more of the topic.  

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