#I’m technically not even supposed to be using this wifi for anything but my computer but

[crowscadence]

After all these years, the day has finally come. My school blocked ao3 on its wifi network

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Traumatized | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You get kidnapped and when Bucky finds you, you’re traumatized from being abused the entire time. 

A/N: Hope you like it! xx I started this a while back and finally finished it today. 

Usually I’m all for the bad ass reader, but I’m gonna change it up to a completely terrified/innocent reader. She’s technically not an avenger but is a part of the team working with Bruce and Tony on some high tech inventions.

!! Warning: mention of blood, cuts, torture, ptsd 

Also, I am not into technology at all. So, if there’s some misinformation in there, please just move along and continue reading :)

! Warning: talk of abuse/torture, blood, traumatized reader 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

!! Warning: mention of blood, cuts, torture, ptsd

“Hey has anyone spoke to y/n today?” Bucky enters the shared common space of the Avenger’s tower where Nat, Steve, Wanda, & Vision were, “She said she was going out to grab a coffee and a quick walk around the park, but she’s not back yet and I haven’t heard from her.” 

“She’s probably still at the park.” Wanda answers, moving a chess piece. Her and Vision were currently enticed in a game of chess. 

“You know how she is. She probably found some ducks to feed.” Steve chuckles. 

“yeah, maybe.” Bucky mutters, not completely convinced. You’d left earlier this morning and it was now entering the early afternoon hours. So, you should have been back by now. 

“Where’s Tony and Bruce?” Nat asks, shifting the subject. 

“Working on some new high tech.” Steve shrugs, “I didn’t understand a word after that.” 

“Wasn’t y/n supposed to be working on that with them?” Bucky takes the seat next to Steve at the table. 

Nat furrows her eyebrows, “Yeah.. Maybe she’s down there with them? She probably went straight to work with them after she got back from her walk.” 

Bucky nods, Nat’s probably right, “Yeah she probably did. She was all excited last night talking about the new tech her, Tony and Bruce had been working on. She said it’s almost done.” He finally lets the worry of not talking to you go. You were most likely in the zone with Tony and Bruce and usually the outside world disappeared. 

~ 

incoming video chat, Mr. Stark do you accept? F.R.I.D.A.Y asks. 

“I accept.” Tony continues his work with Bruce, not thinking much of it. Probably something to do with Stark Industries, “Yeah try that-” 

“Ah Mr. Stark, it’s been a while.” 

When he turns his attention to large computer screen, he’s met with a man who looks vaguely familiar but can’t picture where he’s seen him. “And who are you?” 

“It doesn’t surprise me that you don’t remember me.” The man sighs and steps back from the camera, showing the full view of the room. You were practically hanging from the ceiling, your hands pulled tightly together above your head and your feet barely touching the concrete floor below you. There were 5 other men standing near you, large guns in their hands and what looked to be masks over their face. 

Tony drops the tool in his hand, “What the hell is this?” 

“Oh now you want to pay attention!” The man comes to your side and a whimper escapes your lips as he holds the gun to your cheek, dragging it along your face and using it to push your hair out of the way, “I knew she would catch your attention.” 

Tony and Bruce exchange a look, “You realize you’ve just kidnapped someone very close to the Avenger’s and that means it isn’t going to end well for you,” He rounds the table to get a closer look at the screen, “So why would you be so stupid to kidnap her?” 

“Because she got what I didn’t.” He yanks your neck back by your hair, causing you to yelp.

“Who? Bucky? I don’t think he is into men.” He sarcastically replies. Deep down he’s actually very worried for your safety but choosing to be sarcastic in a time of danger is a way he copes. 

“Not Bucky.” The man seethes, “She got that position with you at the Avenger’s Tower. You three are working on something very high tech and I want it. I deserve it! And I’m going to get it.” 

“Then you probably should have tried to walk into the Avenger’s tower to take it. Not kidnapped one of our assistants!” 

“Oh I plan to get it out of her.” He taps your head with the gun, “She knows everything, everything about the tech you’re working on and she’s going to tell me. Even if I have to torture it out of her.” He smirks. 

You try to speak to beg tony, to beg someone to save you from this, “Tony please-” You were terrified. You weren’t trained to take torture and you knew this wasn’t going to end well for anyone, especially you. You were only an assistant to Bruce and Tony and Bucky’s girl, but you knew things about the avenger’s and about all the tech Bruce and Tony were working on. You could be the person to bring down the Avenger’s and the man knew that. He knew exactly which person would get him what he wanted. 

He ended the video chat. F.R.I.D.A.Y informs.

"Where’s the location of the video coming from?” Tony asks F.R.I.D.A.Y and Bruce who had been trying to pinpoint the location as well. 

There’s no clear location. 

“It’s bouncing off different wifi connections, there is no one location.” Bruce looks to Tony, “We’re blind. We have no idea where they have her.” 

~ 

Tony calls the team in for a meeting, calmly. He doesn’t want to panic them, especially Bucky because his judgment will be clouded by his love and attachment to you. He probably would destroy the city trying to find you. 

“What’s this about Tony?” Steve asks as the avengers fall into the room and settle in their seats. 

Tony clears his throat, “We have a problem.” 

As Bucky looked around the room there was one person missing, you. “Where’s y/n? I thought she was working with you two.” 

“That’s what I’ve called this meeting about.” Tony turns on the screen and there is a screenshot from the video chat of you and the men. 

“Oh my god.” Wanda gasps. 

“Is that-” Nat asks. 

Bucky swallows the lump forming in his throat, “Y/n.” 

“We received a video chat from this man here earlier. It’s unclear what the hell he even wants,” Bruce begins, “First it was anger for y/n getting the position he didn’t, then it was wanting the high tech we were working on. Y/n is close to the Avenger’s and she knows a lot of things; important information that could be used to bring all of us down. She also knows all information on that new high tech device we were working on. He’s planning to use her to get what he wants.” 

“She’s not.. She’s only a civilian.” Wanda says, “She’s not trained to hide information. To endure that kind of torture.” 

“Which is why we have to find her asap.” Tony says, glancing at Bucky. 

Bucky clinched his hands in anger. He knew how torture worked and to think of you in that position... “You mean you two don’t know where he has her?” 

“We have no idea.” Tony nods, “The man was good. He’s using different wifi signals which means there’s no pinpointing one location.” 

“We’re looking for her blind.” Bruce says.

Another video request, Mr. Stark. 

“Accept it, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony turns to the screen to see the same man, but this time you’re in worse shape. Your clothes are dirty and torn; your shirt wasn’t covering anything; There was blood dripping down your cheek. 

“Ah all the avenger’s are here this time! What a treat.” The man smiles, “Including Bucky. Aww.. if you should know your little girlfriend here has been begging for you.” 

Bucky stands quickly, the chair screeching along the floor, “I’ll kill you. Don’t you fucking touch her!” He gets closer to the screen. 

“Oh we already have.” he chuckles, glancing at you, “You want to see your little boyfriend? He seems very worried.” Pulling the video closer, you can see the avenger’s staring back. 

“Bucky.” You whimper, “Please..” 

“Shh.. doll it’s okay. We’re going to get you out of there, okay? Just stay strong for me.” His heart breaks to see you like this and there’s absolutely nothing he can do, “I love you, y/n.” 

The video pans back to the man, “how adorable. Not!” He chuckles, “I just wanted to show you what she looks like one more time. Once we’re done with her, she won’t look the same.” He smooths out your hair, “This girl here is very tough but she’s given us some valuable information.” He sighs, “But it’s just not enough yet,” His hand grips your hair and yanks your head back earning a yelp of pain from you. And with that he ended the call once more. 

~ 

It took Steve, Nat, Sam, and Tony to hold Bucky back from leaving the room. He didn’t know where he would be heading, but that didn’t matter. He was going to tear the city apart to find them, to find you. 

“Let me go!” Bucky thrashes against Steve’s tight grip. 

“Buck, we have to be smart about this!” Steve reasons, “We don’t know where she is!” 

A screenshot from the video is put on the screen, “This is the only thing I could capture.” It’s blurry and you can only see half of the symbol but all the Avenger’s recognize it, especially Bucky. 

Bucky calms as he stares at half of the symbol, “That’s.. That’s an old HYDRA base.” It was one step closer to finding you. 

“Do we know which one?” Wanda asks. She was on standby near Bucky in case they couldn’t contain him. 

“Shield took care of all the bases.” Tony says, “Or at least they thought they did. However, it was hard to determine if the ones destroyed were the only ones.”

Bucky’s gears are shifting as he tries to remember his time at Hydra. He tries to think of anything that could have been said to give off some kind of clue. “It had never been used but there was talk about a base on an island north of Russia. It was a backup in case HYRDA was compromised.” 

“That has to be where they are keeping her.” Nat speaks up from beside Steve, “Where else would there be a HYDRA symbol on a wall? Unless someone painted it but..” 

“It’s worth checking out.” Sam says, “There are only a handful of islands north of russia that a HYRDA base could be built.” 

~ 

The last island the avengers check turns out to be the correct one. Using Stark tech, they find out there is 10 guys inside and then another body in a room that they assume is you. They find a place to land the quinjet without the men noticing. 

“We can’t go in there guns blazing.” Sam grabs Bucky’s arm as he’s about to storm out of the quinjet. 

“Sam’s right.” Nat says, “We have the element of surprise and we need to use that to our advantage so that y/n doesn’t end up getting killed in the crossfire.” 

Bucky knows they’re right, but you’re right there in that building. He sighs and nods, “What’s the plan?” 

The plan goes right and within minutes the men are taken out. Bucky was the one to kill the leader for what he’d done to you. Bucky takes off toward the room and when he enters, you’re curled in a ball on the bed.

“Y/n?” 

You look up at your eyes go wide, pushing yourself back against the wall to put as much distance between you and Bucky. You couldn’t even recognize your Bucky. “Please.. please no more.” You whimper, “I’ve told you everything!” 

“It’s me... it’s bucky.” He takes another step closer to you, but it results in a scream from you.

“Please! I can’t take anymore.. I can’t!” You sob with a shake of your head. Your whole body starts to shake with fright. You couldn’t take anymore torture, anymore pain. You were passed your breaking point and you’d already came clean about everything, but that didn’t stop the torture. 

It’s like you don’t even recognize him and his shoulders slump with defeat, “Y/n.. please..” He starts toward you once more and that’s when Nat grabs his shoulder, “she doesn’t recognize you.” She motions to Wanda who uses her power to practically put you to sleep in a calming state. 

It’s then that Bucky can see the damage they did to you. Blood, cuts and bruises all over your body. You’re filthy with dirt and your hair is a mess. You’re only in a ripped t shirt and undergarments. He’s gentle as he picks up your body. 

“She’s asleep.. she can’t feel anything.” Wanda tells Bucky after seeing his careful hands.

“She’s.. covered in these marks..” He holds you against his chest and Nat takes another look at you, “Electric shock. They electrocuted her.” 

He follows behind the rest of the avengers toward the quinjet. He kisses your head, “You’re safe now, doll... I’m here.” 

~ 

It had been almost a month and you hadn’t spoken a word. You wouldn’t speak to anyone, not even Bucky. The doctor’s informed the avengers you’d been traumatized and that it might take you a while to get comfortable again and that it was best to give you time. You’d gone through a lot and you needed time. 

But it was hurting Bucky not to be able to hold you, to comfort or kiss you during this horrible time. He wanted to be there for you, but the closest he could get is watching you through the window on the door. You would start start screaming when anyone from the Avenger’s team came in. Recently you let Nat inside without screaming, but you didn’t say a word to her. 

He could hear your screams from the nightmares and it pained him not be able to hold you in his arms. It was something you did with him when the nightmares would return in the night and you were the only thing that could calm him. He just wanted to be that for you. 

However, one night he couldn’t help himself. You just continued to scream and cry out like you were in pain and he decided that was it. He needed to see if you were okay. He needed to be there for you.

He ran into your room to find you thrashing around in your bed having a nightmare. He rounded the bed to your side, “hey hey, it’s okay.” He shook you awake and your wide eyes met his. “It’s okay...” He waited for the screams to start once you saw him, but they didn’t come. Maybe this was a good sign. He started to back up toward the door in case this turned bad with you. He didn’t want to push it with you. 

Your eyes filled with tears and you didn’t move. The two of you stared at each other for the longest before you spoke the first words in a month, “Don’t go.” 

Relief flooded Bucky’s body and he had to hold back tears, “I’m not going anywhere, doll.” 

You made yourself comfortable in bed once more, turning on your side. Bucky didn’t want to push his luck and decided the chair by your bed would be a good place for him. 

You made sure he wasn’t going anywhere and then let your eyes close. He stayed there in that uncomfortable chair the rest of the night while you slept. You didn’t have another nightmare that night. It was like your mind knew you were safe and you could finally let yourself go. You were safe and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you again and when you finally realized that, you let Bucky back in. 

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[frogtanii]

hq boys as the crimes they’d commit

warnings: CRIMES, crackfic, probably many typos idk i’m so tired lmaooo, cursing, drinking ??? idfk 😩💦

an: and i did this for what?? inspired by hq hcs royalty @sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock (AJSKSJ SORRY FOR TAGGING Y’ALL IF YOU SEE THIS, IT IS DEF NOT UP TO PAR W Y’ALLS WORKS ILY)

karasuno

sawamura daichi- insurance fraud!! somehow this is such a dad crime to commit?? dadchi didn’t try (dumb excuse, how do you accidentally commit insurance fraud smh) to commit insurance fraud but at one point in his late-thirties, he was very very broke and was already working as much as possible so, he decided to fake an ankle injury, as you do, and filed a bunch of claims which made him bank. daichi kept doing it until he was able to quit one of his jobs and buy himself a really nice suit and a rolex (uhhh 🥵). he somehow never got caught tho and to this day, none of his friends know how he was able to afford a tesla on a cop’s salary (sorry daichi but acab 😔✨)

sugawara kōshi- child abandonment!! ok you can try and fight me on this but i feel in my bones that suga absolutely despises children. he can tolerate ages 10+ but anything younger than that, he will punt them into the next dimension. the thing is, people just assume he likes kids because of how good he is with his team which is why his aunt begged him to babysit his nephew taro. taro was being an absolute brat when suga took him out for the day and he was 👉👈 this close to snapping. he put taro down for like 3 seconds to pay for their ice cream and when he turned back, the demon spawn was gone. he panicked, running around the park looking for taro when it turns out, taro was just bent down behind the bench. some random karen called the police and suga has never craved murder more.

nishinoya yuu- arson!! you CANNOT tell me nishinoya doesn’t have a ~murder~ playlist that he listens to to get himself hype (me too noya, me too). one night, he got a lil too hype listening to start a riot by duckwrth and watching demolition videos on youtube. he snuck out of his house to an empty shed like 30 minutes away and maybe... lit it on fire while genocide by lil darkie played on a speaker nearby. what he did NOT anticipate was the absolute size of the fire so he freaked out and called the firefighters who promptly called the police. he didn’t want to get grounded so he called daichi to bail him out. daichi still told noya’s parents 😔.

tanaka ryūnosuke- vandalism!! tanaka had been on alt tiktok and saw a group of cool friends spray painting an abandoned building. he thought “that’s cool, lemme do that!” but then he realized he had no friends (AHDGS JK I LOVE TANAKA). he asked nishinoya who was grounded from the arson incident and he knew he definitely couldn’t ask daichi, suga, asahi, or enoshita so he decided to go it alone. that proved to be a MASSIVE mistake. he got the supplies, arrived to the building of his choice (thanks saeko :3), and decided to spray paint a huge p3ni5 in bright red paint. he finished “successfully” and zoomed back home. what he didn’t realize with his two-and-a-half braincells is that he signed his glorious piece with his full name. the cops were at his house the next morning...🧍

hinata shoyō- forgery!! hinata did NOT think that forgery was even a crime. how was he supposed to know that he wasn’t allowed to copy his mom’s signature on a permission form! all he wanted was to go to an overnight training camp 😿

kageyama tobio- attempted murder!! kageyama swears it sounds worse than was and he is absolutely incorrect. what happened was so much worse. he and hinata were having a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater (you can’t tell me they haven’t done some dumbass shit like this) and kageyma lost almost instantly (he has the tiny lungs of an asthmatic). he didn’t want hinata to notice so he held hinata’s head under the water for like 10 seconds. suga walked in though, saw hinata thrashing around in the water and immediately called the police. kageyama never forgave him.

tsukishima kei- cyberbullying!! first of all, i had no idea you could get arrested for cyber bullying!? that being said, neither did tsukishima who spent 80% of his time making fun of people online (and on his real account!! bold). eventually one of the people he bullied (hinata) reported him on instagram and his very lame account was deleted (pls don’t bully people online 😤).

yamaguchi tadashi- shoplifting!! andjksh this is so funny because this scenario has happened to me and i can just SEE this happening to poor tadashi. yamaguchi gets super late night cravings (and usually tsukki will walk with him at like 3 am 🥺 nEWAYS) so he’ll sneak out and walk to the mini-mart near his house. one night, he was so tired but also super hungry so he went onto his nightly routine and basically sleepwalked into the store. he picked out his favorite chips and candy bar (which are sour cream&onion lays and milky ways in case you were wondering 😌✨) and just... walked out the store without paying. the store clerk was mysteriously missing so yamaguchi made it all the way home, ate half the bag of chips and passed out without realizing what he’d done. once he did, he cried for 2 hours straight.

nekoma

kuroo tetsurō- telemarketing fraud!! kuroo originally did telemarketing fraud as a joke?? like he was trying to prank call someone pretending that they had lost their information and they actually gave it to him??? he was mildly concerned but even more excited. he did it over and over again but he never used the info for anything. to this day, kuroo literally has a notebook full of credit card numbers and bank account passwords but he refuses to use it because he believes it’s ✨wrong✨(but it isn’t wrong to take all that information in the first place under false pretenses, not realizing that once people find out, they are forced to close credit cards and accounts but go off self righteous king). once he brought the book up to kenma and he offered to sell it on the dark web. now kuroo feels less bad about what he’s done! :D

kozume kenma- computer crime!! pfttt this one seems kinda obvious but what do you expect from kenma :). he spends so much time on the internet, he’s definitely picked up some less than legal skills that still help him now 👀. kenma did little mini crimes like getting into other people’s wifi but his crowning achievement was when he hacked into the minneapolis pd website and had it so when you opened the page, a black lives matter screen came up. he never told anyone that it was him who did it but he thinks it’s the best he’s ever done.

yaku morisuke- racketeering!! yaku, the feral king, ran an underground gambling ring in the basement of nekoma (do they have basements?? who knows! i don’t!) during his third year. the only reason it didn’t get shut down was because coach nekomata took a portion of yaku’s profits whenever he won (which was literally all the time). everyone on the team has lost money to him which is why they never play with him anymore. they won’t even let yaku play monopoly 😔.

haiba lev- indecent exposure!! poor lev’s head is so empty, he tends to fall for whatever pranks his senpai’s do to him. this time kuroo had somehow convinced him that in order to grow his schlong, he had to run outside naked for 10 minutes because the moonlight had special growing properties. lev was a lil scared ngl because he was already superrr tall and didn’t need to grow his height (or his dick ((boy is hung)) but poor lev is insecure) but he did it anyway. long story short, an old woman saw him parading around the neighborhood naked and called el policia. 0/10 dick did NOT grow and had to spend a night in jail naked 😿

aoba johsai

oikawa tōru- prostitution!! KAKKAKA iwazumi made fun of oikawa for being so shitty and said that he couldn’t pick up anyone if he tried. flattykawa took this as a personal challenge and went out onto the street, asking people if they’d have sex with him. with the way he was asking (and the way he was dressed), people assumed he was a paid w h o r e and someone eventually reported him. iwazumi had to pick oikawa up from the station- he never let him live this one down.

iwaizumi hajime- battery!! it wasn’t technically battery but oikawa is a lil bitch and overreacts (at least in his words -_-). the amount of times iwa-chan has beat the absolute shit out of oikawa is uNREAL. he just can’t handle the stupidity sometimes so he just smacks the crap outta him. not for real for real but the way oikawa reacts, you’d think a murder was occurring. one time, shittykawa screeched so loud, they got a noise complaint -_- hajime hates it in these streets.

matsukawa issei & hanamaki takahiro- conspiracy!! issei and hiro have a secret blog where they discuss conspiracy theories and such but one day, hiro found an article that explained how jfk’s death was an inside job. he sent it to issei who began to theorize how HE’D do it. that devolved into a massive thread on their blog of how’d they murder a president which blew up and caught the attention of the cia who sent the a letter telling them to quietly delete the blog. they did because they were terrified but they kept the letter and now it’s framed in issei’s apartment.

kyōtani kentarō- assault!! baby is an angry little boy but for all the right reasons. he was at a bar (when he’s all grown up, duh) and he spotted an absolute drunk creep hitting on a girl who clearlyyyy did not reciprocate his feelings. kyōtani, being the respectful king that he is, went over to the guy, pulled him by the jacket and beat. the. shit. out of him. while the bartender was happy with the fact that the creep was out, he was not impressed with the damage to his bar. he just sent kyōtani out who casually adjusted his leather jacket and rings, and hopped on his motorcycle to ride away into the night. i am the FATTEST simp for this man ONG 🥴

shiratorizawa

ushijima wakatoshi- stalking!! poor ushijima has no idea how intimidating he can be. he was on a train late at night after practice and the woman sitting across from him left her purse sitting on the seat. being the gentleman that he is, he took the purse and followed her to return it. the only problem is that the closer he got, the faster she ran and when he tried to speak (yknow with his scary, deep, baritone voice), the woman screeched and called the cops on him because he was a “strange, big man who was following her home.” when the police showed up, ushijima was painfully confused and just held up this tiny ass purse in his massive hands. the cops laughed.

tendō satori- ???!! no one knows what crimes (or how many 😳) tendō has committed but each of his teammates have different ideas- ushijima: “i don’t believe tendou is capable of committing any sort of felony. well, maybe murder”; semi: “of COURSE he’s capable of crimes??! do you know how many times i’ve seen him come into the dorm with a suspicious stain of red on his sweater?? *shudders* if i end up dead, tendō did it...” in actuality, the only crime tendō has committed is ~drugs~ but he’s not bouta tell his friends that.

goshiki tsutomu- would be a VICTIM!! my baby tsutomu would NEVER commit a crime!!! i love this man with my everything and the only crime he’s committed is being too damn cute 😤🥺

[oracleofimladris]

An Apology

To everyone who’s been around to day and who’s had the misfortune of wondering what in the hell has been going on.

Below the cut as this is going to be lengthy af, just for the record.

Simply put: I was not aware, that on a website where the main medium by which people communicate is reblogs, that there were people who assumed that their followers would not reblog their posts.

Sometime last night or this morning, I reblogged a post from elerondo in the form of a family tree - which I mistakenly assumed was a canon depiction, but was in fact, a personal headcanon (a headcanon they did not which to see reblogged at all).

After doing this, as it was still quite early, I continued with my morning roll-call of social media (tumblr, facebook, instagram, snapchat, discord, etc), and proceeded to the bathroom, and then to shower. Upon exiting the shower, as I sat my ass down, wrapped in a towel and drying, I checked my phone again, and noticed at some point in the last hour, I had received a tumblr message - or three to be exact. You see, I couldn’t have noticed this earlier, as I don’t have notifications enabled on any form of social media. I don’t like to be tied to my phone, and I found that when I did previously, I spent more time on my phone than I would have liked.

The messages are as follows:

Now, these could of course be interpreted as polite, however, I personally felt more like this took the tone of a 3rd and final warning, as opposed to a first interaction. 

Note: I have never before today spoken to the owner of this blog, as you can tell from the lack of messages prior to this morning.

Now, despite the very stiff tone of those messages, my initial reaction was to immediately delete the post, and to then go back to the message to reply and say that I had done so, only to find that I could send a message back.

I thought several things:

- Maybe they don’t have messages enabled (unlikely as they had sent me a message).

- Maybe they enabled it to send the message and disabled it immediately after (again, unlikely, I told myself, as tumbler would probably has deleted the message or something).

- Maybe I have universal messages enabled, whereas they only have “followers” enabled (which, again, is strange, because I was following them, but still, I thought maybe I didn’t remember the options clearly, and opted to send an ask instead).

The ask would have read something as follows:

The post was deleted. Could you at least tell me why, since I’m not a fan of one-sided conversations that benefit no one, and I can’t seem to send you a message back?

Note: I can’t confirm the exact wording as I didn’t copy the message before sending it.

Note: I thought it funny that the blog wasn’t loading as I went to send the ask from mobile, but let’s all be honest here, who hasn’t experienced technical difficulties with tumblr - especially tumblr mobile?

I thought it was weird, but I was in the bathroom, in the innermost part of our appartment, in a giant building made on concrete. I could be sitting by the window sometimes and not get cell reception, much less expect the wifi to travel all the way down the hall is still function at maximum capacity. So yeah, I let it go.

I got up. I dried my hair. I got dressed. I made my bed and sat down at my computer... But a thought was still nagging at me. The blog was still not loading properly on my phone an hour later, so I loaded the message on my computer. Fine. I checked the blog. Fine. I clicked-through on the pm. Bingo!

Nothing. Or whatever the tumblr message is for “you’re not seeing anything here because you’ve been blocked.”

At this point, I won’t lie, I was pretty insulted. In under an hour, I’d been sassed and blocked by someone I’ve literally never spoken to in my life, for doing nothing more than what’s expected of all of us on this god-forsaken hellsite - reblogging a post.

I was upset - angry, even - but I was nearly content to leave it be. However, going back to my first point that the messages struck me as though they were saying “you should know this.”

So I went back to the post and read it over again... No warning. I checked the tags... No warning. I checked the blog description... No warning. I checked their about page... No warning. I checked their rules page... No warning. Something similar about “interactions” - threads? - but nothing about headcanons. No warning whatsoever that this person didn’t want their headcanons reblogged.

Hence the posts you saw from me here, and on my other blog, regarding the reblog function being the cornerstone of tumblr (and elerondo, more like elerond-no). 

I decided to take the matter up with a few friends. I thought, yknow, maybe I’m over-reacting? Maybe I imagined this entire slight? Maybe the message I sent is what made them block me? I don’t even know...

I recounted what happened - to a handful of people now - and each of them weighed in, each of them claiming that they hade never before heard of people not wanting their headcanons reblogged - despite this clearly being what OP was upset about.

Note also that while I made these posts on my own blogs, blogs that were blocked by the OP, I was greeted with notes from a certain thisblogisgettingdeleted.

Now listen, I wouldn’t normally have made a fuss of it, but as this person insta-blocked me (effectively making sure I wouldn’t have a means to reply to them with), but made the very clear effort to make sure I knew they’d seen my messages, I felt rightly insulted.

At this point, I decided that since the only way to communicate with them would be through a blog that wasn’t blocked, I’d need to create a new one, and in order for the message to be posted if they ever replied to it the message would need to be anonymous.

That said, it certainly didn’t come out as nicely as my first message would have:

I made this side-blog for the express purpose to reiterrating my original message, and informing them that they were mistaken in assuming that it was “common knowledge” that people shouldn’t reblog headcanons. And that I thought their manner of going about things was childish at best, though obviously left that part out.

To this, they responded as follows:

Now, I don’t know if everyone is reading this the same way as me, but my first and foremost impression of this, upon reading it was that “first of all, I wasn’t passive-aggressive. I was full-on aggressive,” struck me as an odd choice of words. 

Surely, being full-on aggressive shouldn’t be something to brag about?

Note the following “you can’t accept that I blocked you,” preceeded by their creating of a side-blog to not only revisit my blog, but to interact there as well.

Followed closely by myself not being civil for not sending them a simple message... Note the steps I had to go through for them to even get this one.

Here they mention messaging me with their request, and their request not being met... An hour, guys. A single fucking hour - in which I shit you not, I was in the shower. That’s what I was given to respond to this. And yo, that’s the amount of time between when I checked my tumblr. That’s not even guaranteeing they sent me that message right after I switched apps. For all I know it could have been 30 minutes, or less.

Note: “do not reblog my ooc posts if it doesn’t include you,” still does not refer to headcanons, and I foresee them having this exact problem again in the future.

Now I was presumed to be online because I was still reblogging things... A mistake on our dear OPs part. Dears and dolls, if you’ve been following me for any significant period of time, then you know my queue is always full. Ergo, my blog is always running, even when I’m not around.

For this person whom I have never spoken to to assume anything about my life, much less to assume that I’m around to cater to their every whim, frankly astounds me. Even if I was online, which I wasn’t, I wouldn’t necessarily have seen the message right away eg. if I was on my computer and had a dozen or more tabs open, if I was in the process of looking at another blog, which cuts off the tool bar, or whatever other scenario.

Following this post, several comments were added by both OP and a follower of theirs:

After comments like these, I’m supposed to believe that “a message saying [I] have deleted of sth would have sufficed for [them] to unblock?”

Highly. Doubtful.

That said, I took it upon myself to also message the person in these comments, as they clearly weren’t going to waste any more time than OP did in finding out what happened.

As you can see from the following, they fare no better:

Blocked. Again.

Deserved? At this point, I don’t even care.

For those who were around to see it, my response to elerondo’s post was made on my personal dump as it was the only place associated with my main blog that would be able to post it.

For those who didn’t, you can find it HERE, or below:

In the end, I’m not writing this because I want this shit to keep going. I’m writing it because I got a lot of advice from various different people and the truth is this...

TL;DR:

The apology is for those of you who’ve been wondering what’s going on all day, not for the persons involved.

I did not send the message anonymously because I wanted to be anonymous. I really don’t care either way, because what I did was was not wrong. In no way is reblogging a god damn post on tumblr, of all places, wrong. However, the initial response I got, and the confirmation that it was indeed meant to be aggressive, have shown me that elerondo - and likely the company they keep as well - have no interest in being polite, or even in remaining civil, but instead are quick to insult and play the victim.

In essence...

Talk shit.

Get hit.

And if you can’t handle it, you probably shouldn’t be on the internet.

Sincerely,

Me.

[dream-of-kpop]

Exo As A Legit Family: Wi-fi [3]

*Everyone on their phones*

*Chanyeol is suppose to be asleep but his ass is on ig live again*

*Xiumin is about to post some random shit the rest don’t understand*

*Btw Kris, Tao, & Luhan are “staying” the weekend, so time to avoid eachother as best as possible*

*Kyungsoo on the computer typing up lyrics*

*Internet cuts out*

*Kyungsoo screeches*

Kyungsoo: “BRUH THIS CHEAP ASS WIFI”

*Suho overhears him*

Suho: “I’M THE ONLY ONE PAYING FOR OUR CHEAP ASS WIFI SO YOU’RE WELCOME”

*Eventually the rest gather in the livingroom, wondering wtf happened to the wifi*

Chanyeol: “Damn I bet my fans think I died or sumthin”

Kyungsoo: “Would be n-”

Chanyeol: “DON’T SAY ANYTHING”

Suho: “I mean its not a complete waste we can spend time together :)”

Kai: “Yup i’m going to my room now-”

*Suho grabs him by the arm and plops his ass down on the couch*

Suho: “FAMILY TIME-”

*Throws a monopoly board game at them*

Chen: “WHAT DOES THIS EVEN SAY??? I CAN’T READ IT”

Kris: “Omg my son is illiterate”

Suho: “Awe he picked up one thing from you”

*Kris & Suho argue yet aGaiN*

*Everyone watches the intense battle*

Baekhyun: “This is more entertaining than the damn monopoly”

Kris: “WHAT WAS THE POINT OF EVEN COMING HERE?”

Xiumin: “Cuz you haven’t seen us in months?”

Tao: “To mooch some money off of-”

*Kris closes Tao’s mouth*

Suho: “HAH JOKES ON YOU I’M BROKE CUZ I’M TOO BUSY TAKING CARE OF THE KIDS”

Lay: “HOW IS BEING BROKE A PLUS???”

Sehun: “True since he sent me to college...”

Baekhyun: “WHAT??? I THOUGHT YOU DROPPED OUT-”

Suho: “WhaT?”

Sehun: “THE ONE TIME I ACTUALLY OPEN MY MOUTH-”

Chen: “If it makes you feel better I have nightmares every night”

Suho: “BE QUIET JONGDAE STOP TRYING TO SCARE EVERYONE”

Chen: “BUT- fORGET IT”

Kris: “Come on Tao, Luhan let’s get a hotel for the night this is...too much”

Xiumin: “YOU WALKING OUT ON US AGAIN??”

*Baek cries a lil*

Suho: “There there guys...there there”

Lay: “WAIT IMMA PACK MY BAG I WANNA GO WITH YOU”

*Suho stares Yixing down*

Lay: “Uh nevermind”

*In the dining room Chanyeol stands on the table looking for a signal*

*Don’t laugh but the table fucking breaks*

Chanyeol: “FUCK I THINK I BROKE MY KNEE AH-”

Suho: “CHANNIE I TOLD YOU WE DON’T HAVE INSURANCE”

Kai: “WOOHOOOOOOOOOOO”

*Everyone looks at Jongin*

Kai: “The- the wifi turned on again”

*Everyone runs to their rooms* *sadly me with vlive fr fr*

*Kris, Tao, & Luhan run out the door*

*Channie still laying on the floor*

Chanyeol: “WAIT CAN SOMEONE HAND ME MY PHONE I NEED TO CHECK IG”

*Xiumin kicks his phone over to him*

Chanyeol: “THANK YOU”

Suho: “I think we need to go to therapy...”

admin 2-

-hyungwonthefraud   

ah happy bday to bby t.o.p :’)))

I. am. soft af over day6 and sk I- I almost cried, yes it was that serious

I MISS RAINZ :((( MY HONEYS-

since this is technically a story here's parts 1 and 2 😭

[sumska-vjestica]

Positive match (chapter 1)

Summary: Being an FBI agent is not an easy job. Y/N was aware of it. But she didn’t know that criminals aren’t the only ones who can cause you problems. Not until she was assigned a new case.

Word count: 2016

"God damn it, I can't be late again!"

This was the third time this week that Y/N Y/L/N was late for work. Snowstorms have become more frequent and traffic was terrible but Y/N's boss, Supervisory Special Agent Danijel Subašić was not having it. Subašić loved rules and organization and Y/N wasn't his favorite because she would often put those aside and do her own thing. Most of the time it would work out, but sometimes...it just wouldn't. Which made her boss really mad but he couldn't fire one of his best technical analysts.

Y/N just ran out of the taxi into the snowstorm, trying to balance her bag, umbrella and coffee, when her phone rang.

"I'm coming, Subašić, I'm coming." she muttered to herself and stopped so she could find her cell phone. It took her a while to pull the phone out of the big leather bag and Y/N was to answer it when the phone call ended.

"You have got to be kidding me." she said out loud, threw the phone bag into the bag and started walking again.

And crashed into someone.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." Y/N yelled. The figure turned around and she saw tall man, in black suit and coat with serious and annoyed look over his face. His curly black hair was cowered in snow and he didn't seem happy.

"You have got to be kidding me." he said and touched the end of his coat. It had a couple of coffee stains. Y/N sighed. This day just started and she already hated it.

"I'm so so sorry, please let me help you clean that." she said and pointed out towards the doors of her building. Subašić is going to kill her for being this late.

"Please just forget about it, I'm already late to work." he shook his head in annoyance then started to walk towards the entrance of the same building that Y/N was headed to. Y/N followed him, trying to keep up with his pace.

"You work here? I don't think I saw you before."

"I just transferred from homeland security." he muttered, still not making an actual eye contact with Y/N.

"Oh that's great! My name's Y/N Y/L/N, I'm technical analyst--"

"Look, Y/N Y/L/N, I'd like to stay and chat but I really shouldn't be late on my first day." the man said and ran into a half opened elevator. The Y/N opened her mouth to say something but the doors closed and she stood there for a couple of seconds, still a bit confused. The ringtone of her phone brought her back into a reality.

"Oh my god, I'm a dead woman." she muttered and picked up her phone from the bag again. She headed to second elevator and answered the phone.

"Y/L/N, where are you? Your shift starts at 8. It's 8:30. If you need a new clock I'm sure that Bureau will invest in it!" Subašić said, noticeably annoyed. Y/N was hitting the elevator buttons like crazy. When the door finally closed and elevator started to move, Y/N took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry sir. I'm in elevator, the traffic is terrible I promise it won't happen again--"

"Hurry. My office. I have a task for you." he muttered then hang up.

As soon as the doors opened, Y/N ran out of the elevator almost crashing into a couple of colleagues, then headed to the Subašić's office.

His office was large room with dimmed lights, lots of bookshelves and a dozen acknowledgments and rewards on the walls. And it was a complete opposite from Y/N's. Her office was a small but bright room, with lots of computer screens, 3 keyboards, printers and copy machine that was rarely used now days. After she worked there for two and half years the Bureau offered her another office, much bigger one, but Y/N considered herself a person of habit so she politely declined.

“Good morning sir.” Y/N said after she stormed inside the Subašić's office. Y/N froze when she noticed that Subašić wasn’t alone.

The man that Y/N showered with her morning coffee stood up as soon as he heard Y/N's voice.

“No way.” She whispered but both of the men heard it. Subašić cleared his throat and raised his hand, pointing at Y/N.

“Mr. Vrsaljko this is special agent and technical analyst—”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Vrsaljko, who still hasn’t been officially introduced to Y/N, moved closer to her and shook her hand. Y/N was still slightly shocked but managed to shake his hand.

“You two know each other already?” Subašić asked, slightly confused.

“You could say so…” Vrsaljko said.

“In that case, we should get down to business.” Subašić said and with a quick hand gesture pointed at two empty chairs in front of his deck.

Y/N hesitated for a couple of seconds but sat down next to mysterious man.

“Agent Vrsaljko and homeland security are already informed about this case but I’m obligated to inform agent Y/L/N about the assignment as well.” Subašić stated and crossed his hands on the table, leaning against the table a little.

“We have an information about Russian mafia is settled in suburb on east part of the town and we need two agents to go undercover. This is a delicate situation and our sources are positive that, the reason why they are here, is human trafficking. And this is where you two are going to step in.” Subašić paused here and looked at both of them for a couple of seconds.

Y/N raised eyebrows in wonder. Her boss never sent her on undercover missions. Her colleagues, Vedran Ćorluka and Iva Olivari were in charge for these kind of situations.

“With all due respect, sir, don’t you think that agents Ćorluka and Olivari have more experience in these kind of cases?” Y/N said carefully.

Subašić slowly nodded.

“Agents Ćorluka and Olivari already worked on similar case in that area and that fact might put this whole case at risk. We need new faces. Someone who is rarely out on the field. Someone just like you and agent Vrsaljko.”

Y/N glanced at the man next to her. He was calm and not surprised by this situation at all.

She turned to Subašić to face him again and was about to speak again but her boss clearly didn’t find her opinion important at the moment.

“You are going to meet agents tomorrow morning to explain the situation and after that you’re getting your new home address. The car will be waiting for you right after that.” He added then turned to Y/N. “So please don't be late.”

Y/N felt the heat of embarrassment all over her checks but didn’t say anything. Instead, she nodded quickly and looked down.

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend. The rest of your day is free. Prepare your bags and be here at 7 o'clock tomorrow.” He stood up. Both agents stood up and nodded.

They said a quick goodbyes and left Subašić's office. They walked in the direction of elevator next to other in complete silence but as soon as the elevator door closed Y/N couldn’t help but speak.

“How can you be so calm!?” she exclaimed and faced Vrsaljko.

“That's part of my job.” He shrugged and put hands into pockets of his coat.

“But we never did this! This isn't the part of our job.” She said, visibly irritated.

“Well it just became part of it, Y/L/N.” He said when the doors of the elevator opened. He stormed outside and Y/N ran after him.

“I don’t even know your name! How am I supposed to work undercover with you?” she asked.

Vrsaljko didn’t say anything until they didn’t left the building.

“We don’t have to get personal, Y/L/N. Vrsaljko will do.” He said, quickly nodded in sign of a goodbye then stormed in the direction of that parking lot.

"What a snob."

The next day, on the meeting with tech agents, it was proven that Vrsaljko was wrong.

“I'm going to be his wife!?” Y/N yelled in disbelief.

“Y/N, calm down.” Dejan Lovren, her co-worker and a friend, said and patted her shoulder.

“Calm down?! Lovren, I have zero experience in these things and now you're telling me I'm supposed to pretend I'm married to James Bond guy here?” Y/N asked and then glanced at Vrsaljko. “No offence.” She muttered. Vrsaljko shrugged shoulders and leaned back into the chair.

“None taken.”

They were sitting in Lovren's office and their colleague, agent Kramarić was preparing their equipment.

“Okay is anyone here actually going to listen to me??”

“Yes, Andrej.” Y/N said quietly and sighed deeply.

“Okay, first things first. Equip is as simple as it can get. We are going to speak on different frequency every evening and I'm going to message you at 10:00 pm before we switch to the radio. Which reminds me…” he said then stood up and started going through the big black bag on the floor.

“This is your new phone and your new ID. Nice to meet you miss and mister Reyes.” He grinned a bit then gave each of them a phone and a card.

“Y/N glanced at her new phone then checked her ID.

Eleanor Reyes

“Who came up with these?” Vrsaljko asked with a frown on his face.

Y/N leaned closer to him to check on his card.

“Jamie Reyes. Oh wow, whoever did this should be fired.” Y/N said mockingly and Vrsaljko just gave her an odd look.

“Anyways, listen up.” Andrej said again, gently clapping hands. “This bag contains laptop and the only network you can use. Don’t connect this laptop on any other WiFi. You have one extra phone just in case. Also you have to come up with the details for the people you're going to meet. And stick to it.” He commanded.

Y/N sighed and nodded then looked over at Vrsaljko.

“Don’t worry about it. Is that all?” he asked two men in front of them.

“Yes. Oh and if anything goes wrong, you report it over the extra phone as well.”

Vrsaljko nodded then stood up and lift the bag.

“Agents.” Was the only thing he muttered then nodded quickly and was about to leave the room, expecting Y/N to follow. He gave her a questioning look after he noticed that she was still standing with Andrej and Dejan.

“I'll be right there.” She said.

“I'm waiting in the car.” he responded shortly then left the room.

Y/N took another deep breath and crossed arms on her chests.

“This is going to be the worst case I ever worked on.”

Her male colleagues chuckled and patted her shoulder.

“Good luck Y/N. Remember, we chat again at 10.” Dejan said.

Y/N nodded, they said their goodbyes and Y/N left the building.

Her new partner was already sitting in the car, right in front of the main entrance. She jumped into a front sit and Vrsaljko started the engines.

She didn’t want to start a conversation but after a 15 minutes of silence (he even turned off the radio) she couldn't stand it anymore.

“Okay, mister Bond what's the deal with you? Why such a serious face?” she asked and looked at him.

“I don’t have a deal.” He said, not taking eyes of the road.

“Oh you do. I just can't figure it out yet.” She shrugged, trying to sound as calm as possible. She knew she will have to spend following weeks with this man. Not knowing literally anything about him would probably drive her insane.

“Listen up, Y/L/N.” he said and glanced at her then turned back to the road. “This is strictly business. You don't have to pretend to be my friend or close partner. You do your part whenever we are together in the public and that’s it. End of the story.” He added, not looking at Y/N. Y/N sighed and crossed arms on her chests.

“Fine.” She muttered and looked away into the distance.

“I was right. This is going to be the worse case ever.”

[pomrania]

Mindflayer discussion

Below the cut is the transcription of a Discord conversation between @eyeloch, @absolxguardian, and me (Jan). I think we came up with some pretty good ideas about Underdark society and economy, although most of it was accidentally turning illithids into a combination of something like the Matrix, and vegans. I might take the ideas and make it into a neat post, later on, or I might not.

Excerpts:

Jan Okay, so when someone's at rock bottom, there's three "traditional" options. Selling your body (really unsavoury prostitution), selling your soul (fiends), selling your mind (illithids).

AbsolxGuardian for the last one, you would have to have hit super rock bottom, since you'd need to be in the underdark as well

*

Eyeloch Drow also provide spiders spiders are vital for the economy

AbsolxGuardian oohhh, what if that's the function of the elder brain in this world (because i hate hiveminds with rulers. that doesn't make sense)

Jan Elder brain, is that mindflayers?

AbsolxGuardian yep although i also like the idea of it being the server room of the hivemind

Eyeloch !!

Jan Okay. I don't think of that so much as a "hivemind with ruler", it's more like... the elder brain IS the "mind".

Eyeloch CLOUD COMPUTING

Jan Ooze computing.

Eyeloch THE ELDER BRAIN IS A SERVER FARM

Jan And then mindflayers are like black hat hackers?

Eyeloch hehehheheh ooooh

AbsolxGuardian .....mindflayer colony that's mining bitcoin

Jan YES

Eyeloch psychic bitcoins

Jan OH, and you can only use them when you're "plugged into" the brain server farm!

Eyeloch mindflayer shopkeeper that's cordial to PCs but only takes bitcoin assures them that any brain can generate them

AbsolxGuardian yes!!!

Jan Honestly, I think this Matrix-esque mindflayer concept is a lot better than their official lore.

Eyeloch I'm reminded of Logopolis, the last Fourth Doctor story

Jan And like, they don't so much EAT the brains for physical nourishment, as they extract it for future use as processing. ...which would then imply that a mindflayer vomits out a brain once it gets back home.

Eyeloch where block-transfer computations can literally affect reality as they're solved

AbsolxGuardian yeah! the brains could be doing calculations for psionic magic to generate things like food

Eyeloch like ants that collect leaf cuttings to farm fungus, but they collect brain cuttings to farm psionic energy

AbsolxGuardian they don't eat the brains, they use them as magic computers (i guess a naturally psionic species/being would be able to do it while remaining conscious) they could just be casting food generation spells

Jan Oh, and like a living person COULD like "loan" their brain out for a while, with it still being in their head... but they'd definitely be incapacitated during that.

Eyeloch malware left in brains

Jan Would probably take some psychic damage too, depending on how careful the mindflayers were.

Eyeloch and now I'm horrified

Jan And yes, the possibility of stuff like that being left in one's brain. Which means there's only two situations in which somebody would do this: a) they really trust the illithid in question b) they're desperate Now I'm imagining this as like, one of the last-resort activities people get up to, like certain forms of prostitution, or knocking over fantasy gas stations.

AbsolxGuardian ......wait so does that mean that the gith are just a matrix sequel (although I assume you would just be unconscious)

Jan And it's all technically legal. They know, getting into it, that it'll hurt, and they might not survive.

Eyeloch "Over time, overmind. . .over time, overmind. . .over ti-ti-time, overmind..."

AbsolxGuardian because standard lore says that after dragons and giants, it was the mindflayers that ruled the material plane

Jan Okay, so when someone's at rock bottom, there's three "traditional" options. Selling your body (really unsavoury prostitution), selling your soul (fiends), selling your mind (illithids).

AbsolxGuardian for the last one, you would have to have hit super rock bottom, since you'd need to be in the underdark as well

Eyeloch ...if you're an adventurer, selling your body may mean roughing people up

Jan Rock bottom LITERALLY heh.

Eyeloch but much the same

Jan Although, there's nothing stopping a mindflayer from being on the surface, aside from that it's far from their normal habitat. OH, maybe that's why it wants to borrow people's minds: because it doesn't have the normal "computing power" of an elder brain. It's running mobile instead of desktop. And there's a whole bunch of bipedal wifi stations walking about.

Eyeloch "Well, this is kind of. . .well it isn't an elder brain. More of an adolescent brain. It still helps, though!" omg parallel core computing = multiple mind psionics

AbsolxGuardian i can't believe both of my dnd sessions have bitcoin cause my dragonslayers one has spell slot based arcanecoin

Jan This reimagining could also make illithids feasible as allies, I think. If they don't require the DEATH of sentient beings to function, that could also put them at Lawful Neutral, with Lawful Evil tendencies because it's hard to view "humans" as "people" since they're so different.

Eyeloch this is amazing

AbsolxGuardian also they don't have to only eat psionic food, it's just the most practical in the underdark

Eyeloch together, we've made some great concepts

AbsolxGuardian heck, they're probably the breadbasket of the underdark

Jan Maybe illithids are strict herbivores when it comes to nourishing their physical forms. And "eating brains" doesn't have it go down the digestive tract, just to another internal place for storage.

Eyeloch oh gosh, talking about how they're vegan, while literally stealing brains :joy:

AbsolxGuardian YES!! now i'm thinking about the underdark economy, and i'd imagine duergar provide weapons and raw mined material. deep gnomes provide more precise and detailed products. mindflayers provide food. and drow provide slaves and "protection"

Jan Pffft, "You actually have to eat MEAT to FUNCTION? I'm going to take your brain, and you probably won't even notice that it's missing, you're already basically an animal."

Eyeloch Drow also provide spiders

Jan I love how we managed to turn mindflayers into both hackers and obnoxious vegans.

Eyeloch spiders are vital for the economy

AbsolxGuardian (in all seriousness, a tamed giant spider is basically a beast of burden)

Jan Even smaller spiders, there's spider silk. And if you can communicate with them, you can get stuff woven to order I suppose.

Eyeloch you could potentially make garments with almost no additional stitching required

AbsolxGuardian yeah, they provide fabric!

Jan Thinking of mindflayers, there was an idea I'd had a few months ago. Where they like, provided protection to a community, in exchange for a few brains once in a while. Kind of like an organized crime gang, I guess.

Eyeloch protection racket

Jan And there was also, like, you know Intellect Devourers? Those things like brains on legs? A smaller version of them, that were basically used for recreational purposes. To turn your brain off for a bit, like getting drunk. To clarify, this is what the humans in town did. Heh, I don't know whether it's sad or impressive that like, three nerds, talking over maybe fifteen minutes, can turn the Underdark into a functional economy, when Wizards of the Coast hasn't.

Eyeloch hello and welcome to the town of mindfuck

AbsolxGuardian i mean, they see the civilizations of the underdark as a lot more evil. we went in more of a "creepy harsh life"

Jan Yeah.

AbsolxGuardian although it is funny that the economy is in such perfect balance, because "conquer the surface and crush others underfoot" are on the long term priority list of drow and mindflayers now i'm imagining a vetinari-like drow having to reign in warmongering drow

Eyeloch the alignment of Stupid Evil can stifle effective ability to actually do evil

Jan Oh, the illithid-protection-racket idea: there's no beggars around, because they all get approached with "if you lend us your brain for a bit, and you survive, we'll make sure you have what you need to be set up afterwards". The people who don't take that offer, they're creeped out enough that they leave the area.

Eyeloch I love it OH HELL

Jan And like, there's a lot of visceral "this is horrible" reaction.

Eyeloch i d e a "Server farm"

Jan But the people who complain most about it, it's not like THEY were doing anything to help the beggars.

Eyeloch which is like battery hens, but with people with "useful" brains though, honestly, some mindflayers probably think that's wasteful since enrichment activities slow the degradation of the hardware, don't'cha'know

AbsolxGuardian oh are we going with each hive being a full hive mind and more of a single enity or just very community focused telepaths

Eyeloch hmmm, IDK

Jan "Enrichment", oh that's good. The latter idea would work better. And like, a strong enough mind can subsume all the others into it.

AbsolxGuardian that makes sense

Eyeloch corporate merger

Jan Oh, how about like there's some ideological splits along that line.

AbsolxGuardian so each elder brain is their internet server

Jan Whether it's better to have every body under one mind, or just have each body connected.

Eyeloch "Mindflayers. When you talk, we listen."

AbsolxGuardian yeah there might be a few all hivemind groups

Jan There's no real conflict between the hivemind vs non-hivemind groups. Maybe some verbal sniping, or "oh that's what you get for using that form" when one of them suffers damage.

Eyeloch just some passive aggression?

Jan But a pro-hivemind illithid doesn't work well in a non-hivemind group... and an anti-hivemind illithid will make the hivemind less functional, if forcibly added.

Eyeloch so much telepathic noise, and all the tiny disagreements stressing the hive-mind fan more and more for self-evident reasons!

Jan That's probably the biggest philosophical divide in mindflayer society. And like, they all feel that they're superior to other life forms, and the world would be a better place in charge. Just every mind has a different idea on how to do that, and if it should be done. Some think that non-mindflayers are enough of a mess that you shouldn't even bother with them, it's like cleaning out a stable with a dining fork. Don't try to take them over; even if you manage, it won't be fun.

Eyeloch "elves, gnomes and those others lot are fine to do their thing.  Just I wish they'd go do that stuff somewhere else, you know?"

Jan Frick, what if illithids see "humans" (by which I'm including other humanoids) as animals, with all the variety that entails. As beasts of burden, as nuisances who need to be driven away, as scenery, as pets.... Most feel like it's not right to go out of one's way to hurt a humanoid, but if a few humanoids end up suffering to achieve illithid goals, it's not a big deal.

Eyeloch tie it back into the vegan thing from earlier!

Jan There's a few who actively try to protect humanoids. But they still see humanoids as "lesser" beings than illithids.

Eyeloch some would rather not see humanoid suffering, or directly benefit from it but in a kind of

Jan "I would NEVER extract a human's brain personally, but I'll buy one at the store." "Awww, look at those cute little dwarves, carving out a dwelling for themselves! It's almost like they're people!"

Eyeloch "we are superior beings, so we shouldn't sully ourselves with inferior creatures" vs "we are superior in every way, and humanoids are simply too inferior to realise the honour it is to help us in mind or body."

[mycasandstarrs]

SPN 10x13: “Halt & Catch Fire”

Oh, I would never get in a car with a tipsy driver.

“Um, Billy, I don’t think this is the way to Taco Town.”

“What do you know? Your phone’s 3G.”

What a burn.

“Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promises” by the Avett Brothers.

“It’s freezing. Can you please turn off the air?”

“It’s not on.”

Shit.

“Janet, get out of the truck.”

“Um, how does she know my name?”

Who cares, get out!!

“Destination dead ahead.” hardy har har.

RIP Billy. Drove off a cliff.

Wha-?

“What did Cas say?”

“Uh, good news, bad news. Bad news – he discovered riverboat gambling.”

lol. Never took Cas for a gambler.

Alright, lets chill with Dean checking out college girls.

Nirvana shout outs. Nice.

“The air went full blast even though it wasn’t on and the radio went crazy and so did Trini.”

“And Trini is?”

“Ah, you have to excuse my partner. When it comes to technology, he’s a little behind. Uh…he just learned how to poke on Facebook.”

“Uh, um, Trini is the nav app we were using. It – It’s like a talking map. You’re Gen X. Right.”

Pfft.

“Okay, so Trini and everything else in the truck went all ‘Christine’.”

“Who’s Christine?”

“It’s a Gen X thing.”

Bazongo.

“Did Billy have any enemies? Anybody who might have had a beef with him?”

“Maybe his brother Joey. They fought all the time. It’s so sad. They never got to set it right.”

“Because Billy died.”

“No. Joey did. In Afghanistan.”

Possible ghost...

“Did Billy happen to have anything of his brother’s on him when he died? Uh, dog tags, a hat, something?”

“Just his pickup.”

“So the truck belonged to Joey?”

“Yeah. It was his pride and joy. Billy got it when he died, and, you know, it’s a thing.”

Oh, they know.

“So – so what’s a thing?”

“You know, the truck thing. You honor the deceased by driving their truck. Sam, they wrote a whole country song about it.”

Really, Sam? (Tho I think now he knows about the “thing”, considering I heard that the Impala won’t be driven by Sam while Dean is gone.) [After S14 premiere edit: what I heard was a bunch of baloney.]

You’re so petty, Dean.

A buttload of ectoplasm.

“Alright, so big brother didn’t get along with little brother, was pissed that he was driving his baby. I get it.”

“What are you saying? If you died and I drove your car, you’d kill me?”

That technically already happened, and Dean didn’t kill you for putting an iPod jack in the car.

The teen lingo just....embarrasses me.

That’s not even good lighting for a selfie.

810.

RIP Julie. Strangled with a computer power cord.

STOP WITH THE CHECKING OUT OF GIRLS.

Delilah.

“Everyone knew Billy. He was the President of Sigma Theta Delta.”

“STD?”

Pfft.

Taking full advantage of a college cafeteria.

“Nothing ever really gets deleted from the Internet. You knew that, right?”

“...Yeah.”

What would Dean hide...

“What’s 810?”

“Uh, it’s a… I don’t know. Maybe it’s a date.”

“Maybe it’s a time of day. Or an area code.”

Or a house number...

810 Down’s Drive.

Aww no, those are perfectly good flowers.

“My husband was killed in a car accident here nine months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Our condolences.”

“Thank you. We were newlyweds. Never even made it to our first anniversary.”

That’s pretty damn tragic.

“Forgive me, but did you notice anything… weird after your husband’s death. Any strange disturbances or…?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Yeah you do, you liar.

“Andrew Silver, 29-year old Spencer High School teacher killed in fatal accident. Uh, car burst into flames. Silver’s body was burned beyond recognition. And he is believed to have been killed upon impact.” Not exactly.

Delilah’s starting to panic.

“Delilah, stop. I’m serious. You better keep your mouth shut or you’re gonna have a lot more than a curse to worry about.” What are you gonna do about it?

“Work, Breed, Consume” by Against Empire.

8:10.

“Lower the tunes, brah! Trying to study.” lmao at the “brah”.

RIP Kyle. Death by decibel.

Better start fessing up, Delilah.

“Look we know you’re the one leaving the flowers. So, why don’t you just tell us what happened the night of Andrew Silver’s accident?”

“Uh…”

“Delilah, please. This is the third death in five days. Who knows who’s gonna be next.”

Her.

The “accident” as it actually happened.

“Take Me to Church” by Hozier.

How is everyone on their damn phone???

That is god awful.

‘Hey, you’re not calling the cops. 'Cause I already have a D.U.I., and if they find out I’m driving on a suspended license, I’m going to jail.” Billy was a piece of garbage.

So this episode is basically Supernatural’s take on “I Know What You Did Last Summer”, right down to the names Julie and Billy.

“You know, this might be a Shocker situation. The paper said that he died from a collision, but Deliliah says that he died from electrocution. So maybe that’s how he’s surfing. He’s using the power lines as a conduit.” Very close there, Dean-o.

How considerate.

“I stay up all night studying. Mostly to avoid the nightmares. My mom’s thrilled with my GPA, but I’m just… miserable.” It’s fueled by trauma. Yikes.

“It’s pretty crazy to obsess over someone you’ve never met.” You’re fucking telling me.

Delilah’s a good kid.

“Dean, Andrew’s not using power lines to move. He’s using Wi-Fi.” ding ding ding.

Turning off the WIFI on a college campus would cause mass panic, especially if they’re in exam times. 

Andrew’s coming.

Delilah’s gonna have to buy a new laptop, TV, and phone.

“Uh, I’m so sorry to bother you Mrs. Silver, but I have an emergency and I really need your help. Now this is gonna sound strange…”

“It’s my husband, isn’t it? Come in.”

Cutting right to the chase.

“It wasn’t too long after the accident that Andrew started contacting me.”

“Contacting you how?”

“Online. At first I thought it was a joke, that someone was playing a cruel joke on a grieving widow. But Andrew knew things, things that only he and I would know – inside jokes, the code to our alarm, my obsession with Lifetime movies. It was then that I knew I had my husband back, even if it was just online.”

I don’t blame her. She lost him too soon, she just wanted more time with him.

“When the kids at the college started dying, I thought it might be Andrew. But what was I supposed to do? Call the cops and tell them the ghost of my dead husband was picking off co-eds? But mostly, I just didn’t want to face the truth. Because I knew it was revenge that brought him back, and if I tried to stop him, that he might go away. And I didn’t want to lose my husband again.” 

Even when he’s not really your husband anymore?

Who the hell left their cellphone in the basement???

Dean texted Sam.

Smart of them to have Corey talk to Andrew.

Bye bye for good, Andrew.

Like I said, Delilah’s a good kid.

“I’m done trying to find a cure, Sammy.”

“Dean, Cas is so close.”

“To what? We don’t even know if there is a cure. So far, we’ve got nothing. We have found nothing at the Men of Letters library. Metatron may or may not know something. And maybe Cas is on to something with Cain.”

But he is!

“No, I’m not just gonna give up. I appreciate the effort, okay? I do. But the answer is not out there. It’s with me. I need to be the one calling the shots here, okay? I can’t keep waking up every morning with this false hope. I got to know where I stand. Otherwise, I’m gonna lose my freakin’ mind. So I’m gonna fight it til I can’t fight it anymore. And when all is said and done… I’ll go down swinging.”

Sam silently entering panic mode.

[spacebrick3]

WHG Duo Prompt 2: Anechoi and VALENTINA

This is prompt 2 for @ratracechronicler‘s Writeblr Hunger Games! Our favorite saboteur and AI return, this time facing the stresses of the Reaping! (Also, @breakeven2007, I mentioned Sara and Rochelle here - I didn’t know much about them, since I was writing without wifi, so I hope I did it alright)

I shuffled into line, muttering a few apologies under my breath and hoping they didn’t come out too garbled. I got more than a few strange looks, being a grown woman in a crowd of teenagers, but I don’t think I looked that much older than some of them. No, you definitely look older, Valentina told me. 

You can’t see, I replied.

Well, you feel older. From inside. 

I ignored that last comment and instead focused on the stage. Some Capitol official was talking up there, gesturing to the big screen and waving his arms wildly. They had forgotten the sign language translator again - one was supposed to be there, but the Capitol tended not to care that much. I rolled my eyes. Hey Valentina.

Oh now you want to talk to me? she asked snippily.

Shove it. Can you patch into the the audio feed and give it to me? I asked her. ‘Cause they lost their translator again and I want to know what they’re saying.

There was a huff from the AI, but after a second a buzzing noise came on inside my head. It grew in volume until I could make out the Capitol guy talking through it. I winced at the static, but didn’t comment on it.

“-this new format will surely bring even more, even better excitement and fervor to the Games!” he was saying. “And now-“ the feed cut out for a second and I missed his words “-to select the tributes!”

Already? Valentina asked. I thought there was a bit more buildup than that. The Capitol does love their theater.

Shut up, I told her. Maybe they did it before we got here. Didn’t give us much leeway time, did you?

Hey! I was just as much in the dark as you were until that alert!

Yeah, yeah, sure you fucking were, I replied, trying to focus on the announcer’s words. He was making a big show of picking the first tribute, pacing back and forth along the stage and trying to rouse the crowd. Since any applause or cheering just created more static for me to listen through, I wished he would stop.

Finally, he raised his arms once more, then placed a hand into the sphere. “Our first tribute!” he called, spotlights flickering on. They waved around the stage once before coming into focus on the sphere. Every ball in there glittered with reflected light, making it impossible to read anything on them. “Is!” He plucked the ball out, and I felt my muscles tense. I knew it was a small chance. But it was still a chance. “SARA-!” I missed the rest of his words as static roared on the feed.

Phew, I told Valentina as I watched a man step up to the stage. There was another call from the announcer, and a woman ran up besides him. The new accomplice rules, maybe? I tuned back in. “-looks like Sara won’t be going to the Arena alone, folks! Let me welcome you all to his first and only ally there, folks, I give you ROCHELLE-“ Another roar of static as the crowd applauded.

Bad luck, Val commented. Hopefully we don’t have the same.

I had an offhand comment ready, but it died in - well, it died in my thoughts as I realized something. Hopefully? What do you mean, hopefully? I thought there were only two tributes. And that’s two.

I don’t think so. Look, he’s reaching in again, she told me. Sure enough, he was, the spotlights coming on again as he did so. Maybe it’s two tributes, two accomplices.

So there’s going to be four? I asked nervously as I watched him pick the ball. He was shouting something, but I could barely hear through the static. Just don’t let it be Val. Please. Don’t let it be-

I heard his voice, confused and distant. “Er…this reads the Vibrational Audio Locator-“

Oh hell. 

Copy that, Val said. Full on, wholeheartedly agree. 

What do we do now? I asked. I knew I should be panicking. I was being chosen for the Hunger Games, of all things. People died there. Lots of people. Twenty-three out of every twenty-four, to be precise. And one of those twenty-four was going to be me. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit-

Hey. You’re going to be fine, Val said.

Easy for you to say! You’re a fucking computer! You can just upload your stupid fucking software however you want but I’M GOING TO DIE! I shouted at her. 

Hey. Look. One step at a time. Get on that stage, and we can figure it out from here.

I took a deep breath. Alright. I could do this. I could do this. Right? Just take that first step. Just take that first step out of the line, and then keep going up to the stage. Nobody was going to kill me now. This isn’t when the killing happened. No. Don’t think about the killing. Just get on that stage, and stand next to the announcer and look pretty and do whatever the hell they wanted me to do up there. I could do that.

Somehow I made it onto the stage without collapsing into a heap on the ground. The announcer looked at me strangely, pointing to something on the paper, but I’d lost the audio feed somewhere on the route there and was too stressed to read his lips properly. I just shrugged and pointed at my ears, hoping he’d be smart enough to go get a sign language translator. I didn’t think I could handle somebody trying to shout at me when I clearly, obviously, couldn’t hear a word they were saying. It’s not a pleasant experience.

He was smart, luckily, gesturing back to somebody on the stage and then pointing a finger to where I was supposed to stand. I moved nervously over, next to the man and woman - they paid me no notice, already deeply entrenched in conversation. Did they know each other? I couldn’t remember.

Another Capitol official, a man with a thick shock of black hair, walked up onto the stage. He let his gaze drift until he saw me, addressed a question to the announcer, and then walked over, starting to sign. “Are you-“ He checked his notes. “Valentina?”

I tapped the side of my head. “She’s in here.”

“Computer?”

“Yeah.” Hey! Valentina objected. I’m not just a computer. I am an artificial intelligence- 

Fine. Software too. “Seismic and stuff,” I continued to the translator. “Does this mean I’m technically her accomplice? Or do I get any options?”

“Looks like it,” he signed. “New rules and all that. Just gotta confirm, though. You are Anechoi? No last name given?”

I gave him a halfhearted thumbs up. “That’s me,” I signed. “Didn’t sign up for this, but dragged along for the ride anyways. Fun.”

He gave a shrug. “Not really my problem. Unless I need a pacemaker AI or something, in which case it will be my problem, but I’m choosing not to worry about that. But we’ve confirmed what we need to, so if you’ll just come with us-“ He gestured onto the other side of the stage, where the two other tributes - Sara and Rochelle, I remembered - were already stepping off. I followed them.

My modus operandi is to always have a way out. Maybe you can’t finish what you came for, but you can at least retreat, regroup, and replan. Save your own hide first and anything else second. But right here, right now, I couldn’t see that way out. And that scared me. More than I cared to admit, that scared me.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #470

“how can you choose to let the blind see better than you?”

What was the main character called in the last film you watched? Dewey. What would you name your pet snake if you had one? It would depend on its appearance. The snake I have now is named Venus because of her coloration. Do you like peanuts? Only if they're covered in chocolate or in granola bars in small portions. Have you ever gambled? What was your biggest loss/win? No. What was the last movie you watched? Who did you watch it with? Girt and I watched School of Rock together. What do you eat for breakfast? Excluding the rare occasions my mom cooks something, usually cereal or a sandwich. Do you have a Flickr? I do, but it's abandoned. Anything exciting happening in the month of September? No. When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? Oh man, it's been too long. I really want one now. Do you eat breakfast daily? Yeah. What was the last thing to scare you? "Scare" is a strong word, but I was very, very nervous to hear what weight I'd gained since my last doctor's appointment. Do you like mustard? Yeah, I do. Do you have a desktop computer or laptop? A laptop. Do you like to play Jenga? I guess? I don't really have an opinion on it. Do you like Fresca? Not very, but I'll drink it if I really want a soda and it's the only option. How many towels do you use after a shower? Just one. Would you ever flash a cop if you knew you'd get out of a ticket? Um, no thank you. What is your favorite thrill ride ever? I don't like those. I'm afraid of puking or fainting. Biggest irrational fear? Truly irrational, probably whale sharks. Favorite movie sequel? Hm. If you had endless funds, where would you buy most of your clothes? Cloak and Rebel's Market. How many jobs have you had? Three, technically. What is your favorite thing to do in your city? Oh hun, fun doesn't exist here. This place sucks. Have you ever gone strawberry picking? Ha ha, yes... but I was a little kid that absolutely gorged on the strawberries instead of putting them in my basket. The person that worked there didn't make my mom pay for what I did or anything, but they made a joke about weighing me to check the damage I did, ha ha. My face was COVERED in strawberry juice. I wish I could actually remember the occasion, but I was too young. How many times have you seen a doctor this month? It feels like a lot. >_< I had to get blood drawn for two different things on separate appointments, I had a follow-up appointment with my primary physician about my weight, I recently spoke to my therapist and psychiatrist... Could you pull off orange hair? I've actually considered like, a light creamsicle orange. I actually edited a photo of me with my current hair style trying different colors, and that tint looked pretty cute. Do you shave your legs? It sounds dumb, but yes, now that I'm in a relationship. I feel obligated to at least try and be attractive by societal standards. I know it seriously doesn't matter, but I would be so inexplicably mortified if he saw my unshaven legs kalsdj;flkasdjwe What type of weather is your favorite? Snowy! Coolest place you've ever been? Disney World, probs. Do you like corn on the cob? Yeah, man. Have you ever waited tables? No. Build your favorite pizza. Soft pan crust, your average amount of sauce and a good amount of cheese with various meats on it. What did you last get fancy for? I wouldn't say I got like, super fancy, but I wore a nice shirt and a necklace when Girt came over for the first time as a couple. I thought we were actually leaving the house to go out to dinner, but the plan was actually to have Buffalo Wild Wings delivered. It was totally fine by me, I'd just misunderstood. Dream pet? A female Brazilian Black tarantula named Black Betty. :') Do you tend to get clingy in relationships? I know I do. What is the last horror movie you watched? It's sad that I don't know. :( Would you be grossed out if your best friend mooned you? No, I'd just be extremely confused lmao. What is the last thing that you drank? Milk. Currently popular song that you can't stand? I have zero idea what songs are popular right now. What is the weather like right now? Too fuckin' hot to be mid-September. Do you have favorite type/brand of pen? I mean, I like the feel of gel pens. I don't know about brands. What is your go-to snack at the convenience store? Some form of Reese's. Popular drink that you dislike? Coffee shocks the most people. What TV show are you waiting on to return/create a new season? None. What is something you currently want but cannot afford? Oh, dear. -_- Do you have sensitive skin? Very. How many toilets are in your house? Two. Do you have an older sister? Three that I know, one that I don't really count because I know nothing about her and have never spoken to her. What color is your mum’s car? White. Do you live in an apartment? No. Cats are usually cuter than dogs right? Kittens are generally cuter than puppies, imo. Where do you keep your kitty litter box? It has to stay in my bedroom, which I hate. Mom insists on in being in here so I don't forget to clean it. My memory is awful, but I'm preeeetty sure I'd remember to give my cat a clean place to use the bathroom if it was kept in the spare room by the door... Are you rude to little children? No; even if I don't really like kids, that is something I definitely avoid. Kids should never lose their hope in or love for humanity, and I would absolutely hate to be one of those people that makes the human race appear unpleasant. Are you a lighter complexion than your father? BY FAR. He's a mailman so is out in the sun nearly every day, so he's pretty damn dark to be Caucasian. I wouldn't be surprised if by his complexion he's ever been mistaken for being Hispanic, because the color definitely fits. Do you like apricots? No. Are banana chips delicious? Ew, that sounds gross. Do you like kinky sex? I wouldn't know, my dude. I've never really explored outside of pretty vanilla stuff. What is one thing you will never do again? Rely solely on another person for happiness. Would you rather be twice as smart or twice as happy? Twice as happy. That's not even a competition. What would your parents be surprised to learn about you? I very legitimately wonder if I would be disowned for how fucked up some of the shit I write is, ha ha. Mom would probably cry if she saw some of even the milder stuff and force the topic to come up in therapy. If you could have been a child prodigy what would you have wanted to be skilled at? Maybe painting? If earth could only have one condiment for the rest of time, what would you pick to keep around? Hmmm... I suppose ketchup. Do you think it’s important to stay up to date with the news? I think it is, but I don't. .-. What is the best present you could ever receive? An all-expenses-paid trip to South Africa to visit and tour with the Kalahari Meerkat Project to meet and photograph the meerkats. :''''''''''') Would you give up one of your fingers if it meant you’d have free WiFi wherever you go, for the rest of your life? Nah. That's what data is for, lol. If someone told you you could give one person a present and your budget was unlimited–what present would you get and for whom? A new car for Mom. Giant house in a subdivision or tiny house somewhere with a view? Oh, that is SO easy. Give me the view. Well wait, HOW tiny is the house? My answer would change if it was one of those truly mini houses that would make me feel claustrophobic as shit. What was your favorite Disney movie as a kid? The Lion King. Still is. Do you brush your teeth in the bathroom, or do you get bored & roam around? I roam around. Does your city/town have a little festival/carnival every year? Yes. I never really pay attention tho 'cuz I never go. Have you ever been to an apple orchard? No, but I would love to go. Were there any cartoons your parents didn’t let you watch as a kid? Except "adult" cartoons obviously, no. Could you handle motherhood? No fucking way. Being entirely serious, I think I'd either end up dead or horribly depressed, and the kid psychologically damaged to some extent from having an unstable mother. Like do not get me wrong, I'd try very hard, but I know I couldn't stay sane and happy as a mom. Have you ever touched a squirrel? No. What's better, candles or incense? Incense. What movie did you see the most in theaters? I don't watch movies in theaters twice. It's expensive to go even once. Who played the best Batman? Idk. I didn't watch all the movies. Who’s the best American Idol thus far? *shrug* What’s likely to happen next in your family - wedding, funeral, or birth? Uh, I suppose a wedding? None seem likely any time soon. Do you like hot, cold, or lukewarm showers? Hot. Have you ever taken part in a threesome? No, not my jam. Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? Yep. Which movie’s musical score is truly memorable? Tarzan came to mind very quickly. What’s your favorite scene from the movie Titanic? Idk, I've only seen it once. Which TV show theme music do you remember most? That '70s Show. Have you ever bounced any checks? ... I don't even know what that means. :x Have you ever been snipe hunting? I will never in my life hunt in any way, shape, or form. Do you try to be politically correct? For the most part, but I do believe it's gone too far. Generally though, I try to conform to the "rules" to avoid offending someone. What’s your favorite kind of sea critter? Bottlenose dolphins, various types of whales, sea turtles... I don't think I could pick one. Have you ever tasted locally-made honey before? Does it count if it's from a honeysuckle flower? Do you like to wear toe socks? No, they're mad uncomfortable imo. Have you ever worn bright red lipstick? Yes. Do you think raccoons are adorable, like I do? BABIES!!!!!!!!!!!

[djshannonc321]

With Covid-19 and Social distancing being the new normal and Virtual Events being the latest response to traditional events being outlawed, everyone has taken to the internet for connection and celebration. Virtual Zoom Parties, IG Lives, Twitch Streams, and Mixcloud Broadcasts have become the new night clubs where party goers can jump from room to room within a couple of clicks.

A virtual night out might now include Club Quarantine with D Nice, a Zoom Party for Toca Tuesdays with Tony Touch, a Saturday Night IG/ZOOM Dance Party with @HouseOfYes, Virtual Festivals on Twitch and Virtual Concerts and DJ Sets in Fortnite! All right from your couch and in a series of clicks. Online it’s all happening right now when it comes to events and entertainment. I, myself, have now hosted and performed for a series of Virtual Birthday Parties, Virtual Corporate Celebrations, Virtual Workshops, Virtual Networking Groups, and even a Virtual Group DJ Set with the Sinister Syndicate Crew which was broadcasted out to facebook and live to join over Zoom.

I’ve watched some of my favorite bands like GoldFinger re-release live songs recorded safer at home from their individual home studious. And can we just take a moment and enjoy the epic Verzuz battles that have brought some of our musical greats together. Jill Scott and Erykah Badu gave us LIFE in the most recent installment of the Verzuz series of IG Battles. The possibilities are quite endless when it comes to events and entertainment in the online space.

Similar to all of the good that we’ve seen, the internet and technology have produced some rather ugly and awkward moments for virtual event goers and producers as well. By now, I’m sure you’ve attended at least one event that turned into a constant sound check, experienced one awkward zoom moment, or at least you saw the Teddy Riley and Baby Face Verzuz fail where poor tech required the whole event be scrapped and rescheduled. Needless to say, I’m sure you clicked on this article because you don’t want that awkward experience to happen to you. Keep reading for 5 Tips (plus some pro-tip extras) to make sure that next awkward moment doesn’t happen to you.

1. Plan Your Event! The importance of planning, especially in the online space, and especially if you’ve got multiple things going on in the course of your event, CANNOT BE OVERSTATED, I personally like to have a run of show ( itinerary or timeline ) that tells me what should be happening through the course of the event. Here’s a couple of examples:

Virtual Networking Event 5:00p — 5:15p — Introduction with Live Stream out to Facebook (no music) 5:15–5:30 — music / host introduction 5:30–5:45 — Break Out Room Networking Activity / DJ in main room 5:45–6:50 — DJ with Networking Activity 6:50–7:00 — Debrief and Closing (no music) Virtual Birthday Party 7:00–7:10 — Background music while guests are joining 7:10 — Slide Show for the Birthday Girl 7:15 — Grand Entrance with Music 7:20–7:30 — Group Introductions 7:30–8:00 — Birthday Girl Trivia Game 8:00–9:00 — Dance Party with DJ

Virtual Events and Parties are very much like live shows. It makes for a much smoother end user experience when there’s some kind of plan and someone’s taking the lead to move things ahead. An extra pro-tip that helps to move things along is to have someone as a dedicated host or Emcee to help with transitioning between activities. In the Virtual Networking event outlined above, the Client was the host and I followed her lead and the itinerary. For the Birthday Party, I hosted so I was able to make the transitions between activities planned before hand, and the client was able to just enjoy her party. In another event I did, there was no host, but each performer was supposed to introduce the next performer — only someone forgot and it made things kind of awkward.

2. Test the Technology — Another Step that in the virtual space cannot be over stated. [Remember Teddy Riley… 🙁 ] Once you’ve determined your event and the timeline of your event, it’s time to commit to the tech and test it. Some things you should be considering:

1. Where will you host the event? (Zoom, IG, Facebook, GoToMeeting, House Party, etc)

2. What are the technical requirements and capabilities of that tech as it relates to your event? (is there going to be sound other than people talking? Will anyone be performing, etc) Something as simple as broadcasting music can be a little more complicated to get the desired affect in the online space.

3. When can you test? (Make sure to do this well in advance of the event so you’ve got time to troubleshoot if something doesn’t work right the first time) I can personally tell you there’s nothing worse than trying to troubleshoot tech that doesn’t work while the clock steadily ticks down to start time.

A when testing is to join the test from a different device than the one you’re broadcasting on so you can get a feel for the actual audience experience. What seems fine from an AV perspective on your broadcasting device may be very different than what the end user is experiencing. Another — pretty much anything you’ll come across can worked out with a youtube video. I’ve been able to find tutorials on fixing a blue screen on a pc to setting up OBS software to broadcasting OBS to Zoom and beyond. When it comes to troubleshooting, YouTube and Google are your best friends. Use them.

3. Sound Advice — It’s important to note that sound on the end user side isn’t automatically the same as what you hear on your side. Our devices and the programs we are using to stream have compressors that change the integrity of the sound. Strength and stability of internet connection for both the broadcaster and the viewer can also have a negative impact on sound. Also noteworthy, on almost every broadcasting platform, there’s a slight delay from broadcaster to viewer.

I played a party recently where the host wanted me to play background music for the solo singers and dancers. We had to work out that each performer, especially the singers, would be responsible for broadcasting their own accompanying music to help eliminate the problem of delay and competing audio. For example, notice on Zoom that it’s difficult to hear multiple speakers at the same time. If I’m playing audio and a singer is singing to what they hear, what the user hears will be delayed and out of sync. Also there will be audio fall out between both contributing sound as Zoom tries to toggle between each to determine who’s audio to project.

When I’m playing music, I’m able to get the best quality of sound by plugging my DJ gear directly into my broadcasting device using an audio interface. When broadcasting with a phone, many DJ’s are using an IRIG system that allows XLR or Qtr Inch to 35mm so you can connect to your phone. When broadcasting with a laptop, many DJS are using a USB audio interface or USB enabled mixer to plug directly into the broadcasting computer. Pro Tip — Some broadcasting Programs like Zoom allow you to change audio settings or to use the audio from a usb mic or another assigned source. You may need to explore these settings and options to get the best possible sound.

Another Pro-Tip — close out all programs you aren’t using on the broadcasting device to make sure it’s full CPU is dedicated to the broadcast especially if you’re using Wifi. If you’re on a laptop, hard wire to your modem from the broadcasting laptop if at all possible. Wifi can be unstable, and those internet related sound issues are pretty much out of your hands.

4. Be Adaptable — Despite how much you may have tested and planned, sometimes in the live environment, things go awry. You’ve got to be prepared to shift on a moment’s notice within the capacity of your platform so that the show can go on.

For example, In a birthday party I hosted on Zoom, we were playing a trivia game. I was asking the questions, then playing music while they answered in the chat, and then taking the answers from the chat and putting them into a spreadsheet to keep score. This process was taking a very long time; longer than we had anticipated in practice. So, I switched my scoring method to stopping the music and calling each person’s name from the spreadsheet and letting them answer aloud. (instead of in the chat) This made the game move quicker and allowed for a more interactive experience in that moment because each person who answered could also tell a little story or make a joke with their answer.

In another example, someone Zoom Bombed one of the events I was attending. The Host didn’t have the waiting room setup and had the feature that allowed all users to share their screens enabled. So a user came in and started sharing his screen over top of the performer and doing all kinds of inappropriate things. The admin who was running the room and producing the broadcast feed was able to quickly fix the zoom preferences and kick the person into the waiting room. If he hadn’t been quick to notice and respond, the outcome could have been a lot worse. Pro-tip — use the Waiting Room and Password features in Zoom and keep your software updated to be on the most secure version to help keep your event secure.

In a final example, I was doing a back-to-back DJ set with a friend of mine who is a popular DJ in London. Her sound setup was completely different than mine, and we’d tested on multiple occasions, including just before the show. The day of the show, however, I changed my complete sound and broadcast setup from the setup I’d used multiple times prior. We tested it several times, but when it came for showtime the new setup ran into all sorts of sound issues that hadn’t shown up in sound check and I wasn’t able to broadcast my part. I was communicating with her privately on What’sApp to explain what was happening as I frantically tried to troubleshoot on my side. She ended up playing the entire set (both mine and hers) while I’d chime in on the mic occasionally and interacted in the chat. Either way, we adapted and allowed the show to go on. None of this is to scare you by the way, it’s just to highlight the need to be adaptable when broadcasting or hosting an event in the online space. I feel like you have to be adaptable when doing ANY type of live event, but most especially in the online space.

5. Practice — After you’ve done all of your planning and prepping and testing, the only thing left to do is to execute. But before you do, I recommend that you practice — even if it’s just with yourself. The same way that actors in a stage show don’t just show up and “wing it” neither should you when preparing for your live event. Keep in mind that the live online environment can be intimidating given that it’s so different than what we’re used to. I find I get more performance anxiety going live than I ever did performing in person. Which brings me back to practice. — You don’t grow while you’re live, meaning that when you’re in that anxiety ridden-spotlight moment, you’re going to revert back to what’s comfortable. And the best way to to make sure that you deliver a stellar performance is to practice enough to make it comfortable.

I had a client who brought me in to DJ for a virtual Girls Empowerment Event who wanted to share a video during the run of show, but was concerned because she wasn’t very tech savvy. I had her hop on a practice call with me where I talked her through sharing her screen and playing the video and then had her practice doing it several times as though we were live. When it came time for her to share her video during the live event, everything went flawlessly and she breezed through the process with ease, all because she took the time ahead of time to practice. You may not have any issues sharing your screen, but if you’re performing in any way in a live event, it doesn’t hurt to run it through a few times first. They don’t say “Practice Makes Perfect” for nothing, ya know.

So that’s what I’ve got as far as tips, all stemming from my own awkward experiences and findings as we adjust to this new technology driven interaction. Apply even just a few and I guarantee your event will run smoother than it would if you hadn’t. “All that and $1.50 will get you a cup of coffee”, as my grandfather used to say.

No one knows what a post-covid society will look like or when it will actually get here, but something tells me that Virtual Events are here to stay. That said, I want to encourage you to embrace the technology. Don’t let the shut downs destroy your plans for a live event. Covid-19 has brought us together and shown us that SO MUCH is possible in the Online Event Space, with much less cost and logistics. Once you get a handle on what works for you, the possibilities are endless. So go forth and practice, and may the Online Event Success Odds be ever in your favor. Happy Eventing!

PS! — Have an upcoming virtual event that you’d like to integrate a DJ into? Maybe you need a second opinion on what’s possible within the online event space? If you’re looking for more information, I’d love to help. Drop me a line by clicking HERE and let’s chat!

[imagine-the-fanfics]

Once Again ~ Chapter One

A/N: Thought this would be easier in chapters. Bill Kaulitz from Tokio Hotel.

Once word had been leaked that Tokio Hotel was staying in your hotel, you had booked a full house. Unfortunately, you weren’t properly staffed, so there were only two of you working the front desk. 

When the band arrived people were screaming and cheering in the lobby, but security was able to hold them back while the boys checked into their individual suites. You assisted the twins and your co-worker, Christine, was assisting Georg and Gustav. Tom, of course, did nothing but flirt, which naturally made you a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to this sort of attention from guys like them, and you were relieved when you had finished checking in Tom. You made his keys and he stepped to the side.

“Sorry about him.” Bill sighed. “It’s my turn to check in.” 

“Of course, Mr. Kaulitz. May I see an idea just to verify your identity?” He gave you a surprised look but slid you his ID. You examined it and gave it back to him. “You mentioned adjoining rooms with your brother. It looks like the adjoining room for his room is currently occupied. My apologies.”

“It happens! I’d like to be next to him, if possible.” 

“I can put you directly across the hall, if that works for you?”

“It does.” He nodded and grinned. 

“Fantastic! Let me get that all set up for you. I do have some paperwork for you, but it’s the same as your brother’s and not painful at all.” You slid him the paper on the counter and explained everything on the sheet like you had with Tom. While Bill filled it out you prepared his room keys. You took the sheet when he finished and you gave him his keys. 

“You’re very lovely.” Tom called out, you noticed a subtle nudge at Bill’s arm. 

“Thank you, Mr. Kaulitz. That’s very kind of you to say.” You giggled. “Please enjoy your stay. Breakfast is complimentary and goes from-”

“Oh, we won’t be up in time. We’ll just have room service or grab something while out and about.” Tom informed you. You giggled before you continued.

“Then wifi doesn’t require a password, just accept the terms and conditions. The pool is open until midnight. If you have any questions we’re staffed 24/7. Please don’t hesitate to let us know how we can improve your stay. Enjoy your evening, sirs.” You returned your gaze to your computer to finish the check in process, watching them walk away from the corner of your eye. 

The rest of the night was so busy that you were sure your head was spinning. You had gone up and down all five floors at least twenty times each. Christine’s leg was still broken and in a walking cast, so you had volunteered to do the running for the night. 

“Front desk to Y/n.” You heard over the walkie in your pocket. You fished it out. 

“Y/n to front desk.” You replied, walking down the hall. 

“Rm 555 is requesting assistance with the television and the internet.”

“Shysta.” You muttered before responding, heading to the fifth floor. “I’ll be there in two shakes of a lambs tail. What did they say was wrong?”

“The television won’t turn on and the computer won’t give the terms and conditions.”

“Thanks, Christine!” You shoved the walkie talkie back into your pocket. You hummed along to the elevator music as it climbed up to the fifth floor. “Ding!” You said at the same time that the elevator made the floor arrival noise. The doors opened and you stepped out, making your way to room 555, knocking on the door. “Front desk!” You called, waiting for the door to open. 

“Oh, they did send you.” Tom Kaulitz grinned. “Right this way.” He opened the door and stepped aside so you could enter.”

“Lovely to see you again, Mr. Kaulitz!” You replied to Tom, entering the room. 

“Tom, did you figure out the computer issue, yet?” Bill asked, walking out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. “I want to-” Then he saw you. Your face went beet red and he looked like a deer in headlights.

“Go get dressed.” Tom told him, making a shooing motion. “Y/n is here to fix the tv and your laptop.” You just stared at him, trying your hardest not to look at his chest, but you could stop yourself from a couple glances at his tattoos. After a moment Bill returned to the bathroom and you took a deep breath. “Here’s the TV.”

“Christine said it won’t turn on, is that correct?” You asked, looking to make sure everything was plugged in. 

“Yeah, watch.” You took a step away and watched as he used the remote to try and turn on the television, with no success. “Apparently our interview is going to be on soon. Georg and Gustav went to get food.” He explained. You walked over, fiddled with some of the plugs, and then tested the remote. It still didn’t work so you went over and turned on the television using the power button. “Whoa!”

“Sometimes the remote won’t work if the television was manually turned off.” You explained. “Which computer were you having trouble with?” 

“Bill’s.” Tom replied, pointing and surfing the channels for the interview channel. He gave a grunt and you thought you heard him mutter something about damned American tvs and something being too fast. You took a seat at the desk and began to fiddle with the laptop.

You heard the door open and felt your face flush, refusing to turn around. Instead, you cracked your knuckles and focused on the computer. The brothers started talking in German. You didn’t know much, but you knew some basics from the year you had taken so far. 

“... Girlfriend...”

“I don’t need... Please stop.”

“I love you, bro... Miserable... Hard.. Watch...” Bill guffawed at his brothers words. “... Do it. She’s... Here.” You felt your face flushing. “She’s a beautiful lady. Kind, polite... Worse.” 

“She is... Don’t...” Tom gave a shrug and Bill guffawed again. “You ask.” 

“Hey, Y/n. When do you get off work?” Tom asked you, in English. You felt yourself stiffen as you continued to work on the laptop. 

“What time is it?” You asked. Tom told you the time after a moment. “Then I technically should be clocked out. So, I’ll be done soon.” 

“Cool. You’re coming to the movies with us.” 

“What?!” You were shocked at the boldness. 

“Unless you would rather not.” Tom gave a shrug. “But you’ll be with two handsome devils,” he put an arm around Bill’s shoulders, “and you’ll know which to go to.” 

“I can recommend the Mariner.” You replied, itching your arm. “I’m not supposed to interact with guests like that.”

“You wound me,” Tom spoke dramatically. “I thought we were becoming friends.” He gave a pout. 

“You’re a guest at the hotel I work at, Mr. Kaulitz. Unfortunately, policy is policy.”

“Front desk to Y/n.” Christine called over the walkie talkie. You cursed under your breath and fished it out. 

“Y/n to front desk. Assisting a guest. Give me 5 more minutes. I’m almost done.” You replied, before stepping away from the computer. “You should be all set, Mr. Kaulitz.” You informed Bill, a soft heat on your face. 

“Thank you.” He responded, making his way to the laptop. 

“My pleasure.” You responded, grasping your hands together in front of you. “If there’s anything else we can do, please let us know and we’ll be happy to help!” You turned to walk out the door and the men started talking in German again. You closed the door behind you and made your way to the elevator. 

“Wait!” You heard from the end of the hall. “Wait! Y/n!” You turned around to see  Tom running towards you. “Look, Bill was in a bad relationship a little while back and he’s still pretty beat up about it. It’s bold, I know, but you seem nice. You aren’t supposed to interact with guests, I get that.” He handed you a pen and a pad of paper that must have been from Bill’s room. “Write your number down, and then drop it and walk away. You can’t get in trouble if I find a number on the ground, can you?” That was crazy enough to work. You scribbled out your number, tore it into fourths, tossed it into the air and walked away. You could almost hear Tom’s grin. You walked into the elevator and sighed heavily. 

“Y/n to front desk.” You called once the doors closed.

“Hey, Just wanted to let you know that your relief is here so you can get ready to go home.” 

“Thanks, Christine. I’m on my way.” You sighed again. 

What a day this had been.

[adiwriting]

My Home 2/2

Oliver and Felicity have been best friends since 1st grade. So when Oliver is found by some fishermen after he being lost at sea for 5 years, she’s ecstatic. The only problem is, the Oliver she lost, may not be the Oliver they found.  

This is the final installment of a three part mini-verse. {Previous parts: “My Compass” and “My North Star”}. 

This fic is the smuttest thing I’ve ever written, so the rating on this fic has definitely been bumped up to E. Shout out to @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline for the encouragement, roadmap help, and beta!

Read on AO3 (Part 1) 

“You’re really not going to come? Oliver’s getting resurrected, you should be there. It’s everything we hoped for when they declared him dead,” Tommy says over breakfast.

“Somehow, I’m not that interested in seeing Oliver in a courtroom again,” she says, barely looking up from her tablet.

Tommy doesn’t know that Oliver is the Hood and a captain in the Bratva and she doesn’t have the heart to tell him. Their best friend isn’t who he says he is and it will destroy Tommy. She can’t watch him lose somebody he cares about again.

“What happened between the two of you?” he asks, picking up both of their plates and taking them into the kitchen to put in the dishwasher.

“Nothing,” she says.

“Funny, that’s exactly what he said when I asked him. Neither of you are very good liars.”

Felicity snorts at that. If he only knew the things Oliver lies about.

“Did you two have sex?” Tommy asks.

Felicity nearly chokes on her coffee.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says. “Did you two have sex.”

“No,” she says.

“Because I can’t think of much else that could have happened between you two that you’d be avoiding each other so thoroughly.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” she says, but Tommy’s face tells her that he sees right through her.

“Fine, I am avoiding him,” she admits. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“‘Lis, if Oliver did something to you, you can tell me,” he says. “I’m your friend, too.”

“I know,” she says. She brings her empty coffee cup into the kitchen and puts it in the sink, then kisses Tommy on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“He came back from the dead,” Tommy says. “Whatever he did, whatever happened, you should remember how many nights you stayed up late crying to have him back.”

He’s right. She did desperately want Oliver back. But he’s wrong, too. The Oliver they knew died when the Gambit went down.

“Enjoy your day in court,” she says. “Tell Thea I said hello.”

Felicity feels awful keeping this from Tommy, but she doesn’t even understand it all, she doesn’t know how he’s supposed to. She has absolutely no idea who Oliver Queen really is and that’s terrifying.

****

Felicity doesn’t go see Oliver again and he doesn’t reach out. For the next few days, she’s left with all of her unanswered questions and one single debate: What does she do with the knowledge that she has?

If she knows that Oliver is a murderer and doesn’t say anything, that makes her complicit. She could be arrested and every murder he commits from here on out will be on her head. On the other hand, if she does go to the police, Oliver will be arrested and given 35 to life. She doesn’t approve of killing people, but at the same point, he is taking down truly awful men and helping the people of the Glades. It’s not so much his activities with the bow that concern her the most. It’s his ties to the Bratva.

She can’t comprehend why one man would spend his nights taking down the worst the city has to offer in an effort to help the city’s less fortunate, while at the same time, lead an organization that specializes in human trafficking.

“Felicity?!” Tommy yells out to her as she hears the front door slam open.

She gets up out of bed and walks into the living room, giving him a questioning look.

“Haven’t you heard?” he asks, looking frazzled. “Oliver and Laurel were attacked.”

“What?”

“There was a break in at Laurel’s apartment and some thugs tried to kill Laurel. Oliver was there, too.”

Tommy looks like a complete mess. His hair is standing every which way like it only does when he runs his hands through it constantly and his face is pale.

“Are they okay?” she asks, instantly wondering what the hell Oliver has dragged Laurel into.

“They’re both fine,” Tommy says, but the way he’s acting says that he doesn’t believe it. “But we almost lost them tonight.”

The words hit Felicity hard.

Oliver and Laurel were just attacked. Oliver could have died tonight.

No matter what her personal opinions are in regards to his life choices, she doesn’t want him to die. She’s hurt, confused, and scared, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about Oliver. She still loves him. The last thing she wants is to see anything happen to him. That’s most of the reason why she’s so angry about what he’s doing. Neither life in organized crime or a job as the city’s resident vigilante have a long life expectancy. She doesn’t understand why he would put himself in a position that would make him vulnerable again. It’s like he doesn't care that none of them know how to live their lives without him in it.

God. He is such an idiot.

“I have to go,” Felicity says. She grabs her keys out of the dish and pushes past Tommy. She doesn’t bother stopping long enough to put on real shoes or change out of her pajamas. Oliver has seen her in far worse than pajamas and slippers and right now, she is too determined to read him the riot act to take time to get dressed.

She gets into her car and pulls up the app on her phone that she’s created with the specific purpose of tracking Oliver. She’d developed it over the last few days when it became clear that if she wanted any answers she was going to have to get them herself. So she’s been pinging Oliver’s cell phone and tracking his movements trying to see if figuring out what he does at night gives her any insight as to why he’s doing any of this. She feels slightly creepy spying on him, but she figures what he’s doing is far worse, so in the grand scheme of things she comes out alright.

Oliver is currently at the old Queen steel factory, where she’s assumed has become the base of his operations based on the movements she’s tracked. She starts her car and heads there.

The entire drive, she practices exactly what she’s going to say. She’s going to yell at him first for putting Laurel’s life in danger. The fact that his work followed him home is exactly the kind of reason why he shouldn’t have such dangerous work. What if Oliver hadn’t been there to protect Laurel? What if those men had attacked the Queen home? The last thing Thea needs to add to her growing list of traumas is having her life threatened by thugs.

She’s going to explain all of the reasons why him risking his life is stupid. She’s going to explain how much of an asshole he is for keeping secrets from the people he claims to care about. She’s going to make sure he understands just how angry she is at him and then she’s going to tell him that she wants nothing to do with him if this is the life he’s choosing to live.

Felicity loves Oliver, but she’s not going to stand by and watch him be a part of something so awful. She can’t support him as long as he’s in the Bratva and she can’t support his vigilante life as long as he’s torturing and killing men. There has to be a better way.

Felicity parks in the alley behind the steel factory, hoping that her car is out of the way enough to avoid getting carjacked. She isn’t necessarily scared of the Glades, per say. She grew up not too far from here. But it’s because she grew up around this area that she knows how desperate people can be and how tempting it is to commit a crime when the alternative is going hungry for the night.

She climbs through a small hole in the fence and makes her way into the factory. A giant piece of plywood in the middle of the floor sticks out like a sore thumb. Felicity rolls her eyes. Oliver really could try a little harder at hiding his super secret vigilante cave. She lifts the plywood and pulls it out of the way, revealing a large hole in the floor. It’s only a single story drop down below, but still, she’s not willing to attempt it.

“Oliver,” she calls out, but nobody answers. She listens for any sign of life below but doesn’t find any. Clearly he’s not here anymore. She pulls out her phone but the map still shows him at this address, which means he doesn’t take his phone with him when he’s out stealing from the rich.

She takes a seat on the floor, prepared to wait him out. She assumes he’ll have to come back eventually to hide his costume and when he does, she’ll be ready for him.

As she waits, she attempts to connect her phone to wifi but can’t. There’s no wireless in the building and the signal for LTE is weak. Curious about what kind of technical setup he has, since the SCPD mentioned technical knowledge in the Hood’s profile, she decides to brave the drop down below to check it out.

She considers it a win when she lands on the ground without breaking or twisting anything. She uses her cell phone for a flashlight as she looks around for a light switch or generator of some kind. He has to have something to light the place since he’s usually here at night time. A sweep of the area reveals a generator and several lights set up around the room. She makes her way over to the generator and gets it started. When the lights come on, she’s able to get a good look at his space for the first time.

She’s not sure what she expected. She’s read comic books her entire life, so a part of her was picturing a futuristic, teched out hideout. After all, billionaire vigilantes always have the best toys. But this place is almost crude. His computer setup actually hurts her heart. His equipment is outdated. He’s leaving himself wide open to hackers. All it takes is knowing the right place to look and they’d be into his system in a heartbeat. She wonders how long Oliver can really keep this secret of his going on his own.

She’s curious if the Bratva has any knowledge about his activities as Robin Hood. She assumes that they’d to have. She’s even debated if the Bratva are in on it. Perhaps Oliver is picking off competitors to the business and helping the Glades is only a forensic countermeasure to keep the police off of their backs. But if the Bratva approves of his activities, she assumes they would be helping him. There would be evidence of more than one person in this lair and there isn’t.

She walks around, taking in the rest of the space with a critical eye, soaking in as much detail as she can. On the ground is a green wooden crate with a lock on it. She kneels down and pulls it out from under the table. The crate is locked, but it’s a combination lock. She puts her ear to it and twists until she hears it click into place and quickly pops open the lock. Inside she finds several items. There is a bottle of vodka that looks like it’s from Russia — no surprise there considering who he works for. There’s a leather bound notebook filled with a list of names. There’s a small satchel with some kind of herb inside. There is a picture of an Asian family – a mom, dad, and a little boy.

“Who are you?” she says to herself. She pulls out her phone and takes a picture of the photo. She’ll run it through facial recognition software when she’s back home.

A loud sound of something hitting the floor hard has her jumping up and screaming in fear.

When she turns around, picture still in hand as she pushes both hands to her chest in an effort to keep her heart from falling out, Oliver is standing before her in all his green glory.

“Please don’t touch that,” he says, reaching out to take the photo from her and puts it back in the crate, slamming it closed.

“You scared me,” she says, still recovering.

“I should have figured you’d make your way here eventually,” he says. “You never were good at minding your own business.”

Felicity scoffs at that. “Well I wouldn’t have to snoop if you would just be honest with me.”

Oliver doesn’t respond to that. He simply puts up his bow and takes off his quiver — yes, Felicity knows what a quiver is. She’s spent a lot of time learning about all things archery thanks to Oliver’s new hobby.

“So this is the Arrow Cave,” she says.

He looks up and glares at her. “I don’t call it that.”

“Well what do you call it then?” she asks.

“The bunker.”

Felicity shakes her head. “A bunker implies war. Are you planning on waging war against the entire city?”

She says it as a rhetorical question. Of course he’s not going to start a war with his one-man army.

“If that’s what it takes,” he says, shocking her.

Does he have a death wish?

“You almost died tonight,” she reminds him, in case he’s somehow forgotten.

“I’m fine,” he says as he unzips his jacket and pulls it off, leaving him in just his T-shirt and leather pants.

“You almost got Laurel killed,” she says.

Oliver’s head snaps up at that and he looks genuinely offended. “I would never put any of you in danger.”

“I think that would be more believable if you hadn’t lead your enemies to Laurel’s apartment tonight,” she says, crossing her arms.

“I didn’t lead them to her, I was protecting her,” Oliver says. “I was walking past her apartment on the way to your place with a pint of mint chip. I wanted to apologize and knew that the fastest way to your heart was through ice cream, but when I saw the patrol cars outside of Laurel’s I got anxious and decided to see her instead. She was attacked because she was representing Victor Nocenti’s daughter in the case against Martin Somers.”

Felicity wants to believe him. It actually is incredibly likely that a man like Martin Somers would hire somebody to kill Laurel. Especially since she is representing a girl whose dad died because he crossed Martin Somers. However, it’s hard to believe Oliver when the lies keep piling up.

“I want to believe you,” she says.

“So do.”

“It’s hard when I don’t know what’s real or what’s not anymore. I mean, how long have you been part of the Bratva? Is your entire family part of it?”

“I’m not part of the Bratva,” he says.

Felicity rolls her eyes. “I’ve seen your tattoo. I’m not an idiot.”

“No, I mean… I’m not part of the Bratva anymore,” he says.

“So you quit?” she says. “I thought the only way you left the brotherhood was in a body bag.”

“The Pakhan and I have an agreement,” he says, but supplies her no more than that.

“Okay, so you’re not part of the Bratva anymore,” she concedes. “But you were and you never told me.”

“That’s because it didn’t happen until after the island,” he admits, sighing in defeat.

“So there really was an island,” she says.

“Yes, there really was an island,” he responds. He pulls out a stool from under the table and gestures for her to take a seat.

She approaches the table slowly, but doesn’t sit down. She doesn’t want to have to look up to him any more than she’s already forced to thanks to their height difference. She needs to retain as much power in this conversation as possible. She decides to push his bow out of the way and sit on the table instead, gesturing for him to take a seat on the stool. This way he’s forced to look up at her.

“Okay,” she says. “Then the photo I saw of you in Russia was what? Photoshopped?”

Oliver looks at her in surprised but quickly covers it up. He clearly didn’t expect her to uncover as much information as she did.

“No… I was in Russia for part of my time away,” he admits, though she can tell it pains him to do so. “But I really was marooned on Lian Yu.”

“But Lian Yu wasn’t really deserted, was it?” she asks, wanting him to confirm her theory about there still being Chinese prisoners on the island.

He shakes his head.

“I lied because I didn’t want to tell anyone what really happened.”

“What really happened?” she asks.

Oliver shakes his head.

Felicity groans. Just when she thought she was getting somewhere.

“Please,” Oliver says. “There are some things that I’m not ready to talk to you about. Some things that I’m still dealing with myself. And some other things that I can’t tell you for your own safety. I need you to trust me on that.”

“What are you afraid would happen if you told me?” she asks. “I know how to keep a secret. I didn’t tell anyone you were the Hood, not even Tommy, even though it went against my better judgement.”

“It’s not you that I don’t trust with my secret,” he says, begging her with his eyes to leave it be.

Leaving anything be has never been her strong suit though.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” she asks, eyeing him close for any sign that he’s lying but she doesn’t see any. He isn’t being entirely forthcoming and his answers are vague, but he’s not lying to her. “You think you’re protecting us by not telling everyone the truth.”

“I can’t lose you,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

His eyes fill with tears. He’s trying to hold them back, but she can still see them and it breaks her heart. She’s never been good at seeing people in pain and seeing Oliver in pain is a million times worse than anything else. Despite the fact that she doesn’t approve of his actions and the fear she has over his alter egos, she slides off of the table and pulls him into a hug.

He wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, resting his ear over her heart.

“You’re not going to lose me,” she promises.

No matter what he’s gotten himself involved in, Felicity isn’t going anywhere. She’s determined to help him break out of this dark life he’s found for himself and bring him back to her. He’s always been her hero and now it’s her turn to save him.

“You should hate me,” he says.

Felicity rubs his back in soothing circles.

“I don’t hate you,” she says. “I don’t understand you, or any of this, but I could never hate you…”

Felicity debates her next words carefully. A part of her is scared to admit them to him when there is still so much about his life that she doesn’t know about. When it’s painfully clear that he doesn’t trust her. There’s a very large possibility that saying them could hurt her and that’s terrifying. But she’s regretted not saying them to him all of these years and she’ll never forgive herself if something happens to him and he doesn’t know.

“I could never hate you,” she says again. “I love you.”

The moment the words leave her mouth, his grip on her tightens and he stops breathing.

Then, for added measure, just to be sure they don't end up repeating any of the confusion of their youth, she adds, “I'm in love with you, Oliver. I'm not going anywhere.”

He doesn't say anything, but she can tell by the way his shoulders shake and he buries his head in her chest how much the words mean to him.

So she says them again. And again. And again. She whispers them in a soothing voice while she runs her fingers through his hair. She says them slowly, making sure each word is clear as she holds him close.

The seconds feel like they turn into hours and time becomes irrelevant. It doesn't matter what time it is or what day it is. The only thing that matters is taking care of Oliver.

When he finally pulls away from her, she grabs her purse and pulls out the makeup remover wipes she keeps on hand. She takes his chin in her hand and begins gently wiping the face paint off of his face. When it is all gone, she smiles at him.

“There’s the man I fell in love with,” she says, cradling his face with her hands.

He reaches up to grab onto her wrists, keeping her hands in place.

“I shouldn’t have left you those messages,” he says. “I was drunk. It wasn’t fair to ask you to come with me. You were still getting over Cooper.”

“I wish I had gone with you,” she admits. “It’s my biggest regret.”

“Don’t say that.”

He closes his eyes as if the thought alone causes him great pain.

“All those years when we thought you were lost forever, I just kept thinking about how I could have saved you if I was there,” she says. “And now, seeing what you’ve become, I wish it even more.”

Oliver winces. “Am I really that awful?”

He doesn’t say it with any malice. If anything, he says it like she’s confirming a long held belief he’s had. It makes her want to cry. She doesn’t know what happened to bring him to this point, but looking at him now, she knows one thing: Her Oliver is still in there. He’s broken, but he’s in there. And she can get him back.

She shakes her head and bites her bottom lip to stop from crying.

Oliver lets go of her and stands up. The way he towers over her sends a surge of heat through her body. He lifts his hands to frame her face and leans in close until their lips are almost touching. She’s pictured this moment so many times. She’s dreamed about what it would be like to kiss him since she they were in 6th grade and he got her that Valentine’s Day bear.

“Felicity,” he whispers her name and it sends goosebumps up her arms.

“Yeah?”

She sounds dazed, even to her own ears.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says with an amused smile.

She nods eagerly. She would like that very much.

His lips touch hers and her entire body wakes up instantly. She stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his shoulders in an effort to get closer to him. She opens her mouth to him and his tongue doesn’t take long to begin exploring.

It’s everything she always imagined. It’s sweet and sexy. Caring, but full of lust. It’s safe but daring and new. Oh so new. Felicity’s had her fair share of kisses, but they don’t compare to this. Oliver’s lips are unfairly soft. His hands move to her hips and he lifts her up onto the table effortlessly.

She wouldn’t have said she had a thing for overt displays of testosterone, but Oliver can lift her up anyday. The way he picked her up like she weighed nothing… It’s insanely hot.

His hands make their way under her shirt and he scratches at her back lightly and she’s embarrassed to admit that she purrs like a fucking cat. His hands are heaven.

She eventually has to break away for air, but he doesn’t miss a beat. His mouth moves to her neck and she thinks that she may die. Oliver is too talented with his tongue for his own good. Heat pools in her belly and she is filled with such an intense need for him. She’s never been one to have sex anywhere but a bed. She’s surprisingly vanilla when it comes to that stuff, but if Oliver doesn’t stop sucking on her pulse point like that she’s going to have to take him right here.

“Oh God,” she moans when his hands make their way to her chest and begin massaging her breasts through her bra.

Felicity hooks her legs around him and pulls him as close as she can get him. She thanks god for this perfectly placed table because it lines them up perfectly and she’s able to feel his impressive hard on.

“Fuck,” he hisses, biting her neck as she rubs against him.

“Please,” she moans.

She grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, happy to lose the sweatshirt. Her entire body feels like it’s on fire and the cool air against her bare back helps.

Oliver groans as his hands rush to explore every bit of newly exposed skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his lips make their way to the tops of her breast and his fingers begin pinching at her nipples through her bra.

“Oliver,” she cries out as she pulls at his T-shirt to untuck it from his pants.

She needs him, now. Desperately. She feels like she’s going to explode if he doesn’t touch her soon.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulls away from her and takes several large steps back as he pants heavily.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, out of breath. She reaches out for him, wanting him to come back to her. Now that he’s stepped away, the chill in the air doesn't feel refreshing anymore, it’s just cold.

Oliver shakes his head and takes hold of her hand, but doesn't move any closer.

“I don’t want to do this here,” he says, causing her heart to drop.

“Oh,” she says, disappointed.

They’d gone too far. She’d misread the signs. She tries to pull her hand out of his own as her other hand moves to cover up her body, but he won’t let her. Instead he lifts her hand up to leave an open mouth kiss on the inside of her wrist.

“I’ve waited years for this moment,” he says apologetically. “I don’t want to do it on this dirty table. I want a bed. I want somewhere I can have you for hours without distractions.”

“Hours?” she asks, raising her eyebrow at him. She’s not even sure if she’ll last more than five minutes alone with him once they start. How does he expect her to last hours? He’s clearly delusional. She’s never had sex for hours. Sex marathons are something made up for romance novels.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Oliver says with a wicked smile that makes her toes curl with want. “I have plans.”

“I like plans,” she whispers, biting her lip as she imagines all the things Oliver could do to her. She’s never been one to play, but Oliver makes her want.

Oliver looks her up and down as he licks his lips. She takes a shuddering breath as she squeezes her thighs together. She’s wet. Wetter than she’s ever been without anyone actually touching her.

And oh does she want Oliver to touch her.

“Do you really need a bed?” she asks innocently, opening her legs up for him again and pulling on her arm. He thankfully steps back in between her legs and kisses her long and hard. Unfortunately, he pulls away before they can get caught up again.

“Trust me,” he says. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

He kisses her forehead. “What do you say we get out of here?”

Felicity nods. Oliver helps her off of the table and catches her when her legs give out, causing her to turn an impressive shade of red. Yet another thing she didn’t know could happen in real life. Oliver’s kisses have actually made her weak in the knees.

“Sorry,” she says.

He doesn’t respond, but the look of pride on his face tells her that he doesn’t mind one bit.

He hands her her sweatshirt back and moves to the corner of the room. As soon as she realizes that he’s changing out of his leather pants and into a less conspicuous pair of khakis, she averts her eyes. It’s silly. With what they were just doing — with what they are about to do — she’s going to end up seeing him naked. But somehow, watching him change still feels like an intrusion. The first time she sees him naked, she wants to be able to touch and caress every exposed piece of skin. To kiss away every scar his time away left him with.

She throws her sweatshirt back on and looks around for the exit, eager to get them to a bed so they can continue what they’d been doing before. She doesn’t see one.

“Where are the stairs?” she asks.

“Oh, uh…”

He scratches the back of his neck and looks at her sheepishly.

“You don’t have stairs,” she says with a nod. Of course he doesn’t have stairs. He’s a ninja. He probably just parkours his way out of this place.

“Sorry,” he says. “I hadn’t exactly planned on visitors.”

Felicity looks up at the hole in the ceiling that she’d come down from. “Well I’m regretting some life decisions right about now.”

Oliver smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you out.”

He lunges a bit and holds out his hands like he wants her to climb up on him like a circus act. She eyes him skeptically.

“You do remember that I broke my ankle the time my mom forced me to try out for cheerleading, right?” she says.

Oliver laughs. It’s the first genuine laugh she’s heard from him since he got back and she didn’t realize how much she missed it. He’s so breathtaking when he smiles.

“I do, but I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

She still thinks he’s overestimating her ability to balance on anything, but she recognizes that they don’t have a lot of options here.

“You don’t have a ladder?” she asks, just to make sure.

“I have a rope I climb up to get out,” he says with an amused smile. “Did you want to try that?”

She shakes her head.

“Didn’t think so,” he says. “Come on. Just step up and I’ll do all the work.”

Felicity puts her hands on his shoulders and takes a deep breath before she puts her foot in his hands.

“Now stand up,” he says.

She does, but the second he stands up as well and begins lifting her up, she starts freaking out.

“No, no, no, no” she says, refusing to let go of his shoulders even as he continues lifting her higher. She’s sure they are quite the sight to behold.

“Felicity,” Oliver laughs. “Stand up. You’re fine.”

She shakes her head. “I’m just now realizing I have a fear of heights.”

“I’m not going to let you fall, just stand up and reach,” he says.

“Maybe you should just leave me down here,” she says, refusing to let go of his shoulders.

He doesn’t even look like he’s breaking a sweat as he holds her up. It’s ridiculous how strong he is. Then again, she assumes you can’t really be a crime fighting vigilante that swings from building to building unless you’re solid muscle. And she’d gotten a good feel of Oliver tonight. He is definitely solid muscle.

She’s eager to get her hands on him again with far less clothes on, but right now she’s a little too preoccupied with trying not to die.

“Let me down,” she pleads with him.

Oliver grumbles but sets her back down on the floor.

“How do you plan on getting out?” Oliver asks, looking down at her like he’s trying really hard not to laugh at her.

“I don’t,” she says. “You can bring me food down here. I’ll be fine.”

“Really?” he asks. “You want to live down here?”

“Yep.” She nods.

“With the rats,” he says.

“Rats?” she asks, jumping into his arms as she looks around for any sign of moment.

Oliver knows that there is one thing she hates more than anything and it’s rats. She’s lived in a lot of shitty apartments so she’s used to bugs of all kinds. But the one thing she’s never gotten used to are rats. Her apartment in the Glades had them and she was always calling Oliver over to help her trap them so she wouldn’t have to see them.

“Still want to live down here?” he asks with a smirk.

“Alright smartass,” she says, tapping his shoulder until he lunges down again. “Drop me and I’ll use my loud voice on you.”

“I won’t drop you,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

She steps into his hands and this time she doesn’t freak out. She slowly lets go of his shoulders and stands up straight. He lifts her up until she’s able to reach the hole in the floor above and grab on.

“Alright, now what?” she asks.

“Pull yourself up.”

Felicity scoffs. “I can’t!”

“You can,” he says. “It’s just a chin up.”

“I can’t do a chin up,” she says, causing him to groan.

“Five years away and he thinks I’ve turned into American Ninja Warrior,” she grumbles.

“I can hear you,” he says. “Just… hold on.”

He lets go of her feet and she shrieks. “Oliver!”

“One second, you’re fine,” he says.

She looks down, which is definitely a mistake because somehow it looks a lot farther now than it did when she initially jumped down. He grabs his chair and pulls it under her and stands on it before taking her feet again and hoisting her up enough so that she can finally pull herself back up to the main floor.

She doesn’t do it gracefully, but she does it. And for that she’s incredibly relieved.

Oliver is up and next to her in a matter of seconds, which just makes her feel awful.

“I hate you,” she says.

“No you don’t,” he says, reaching down to pull her to her feet. “I have to say, watching you do that was oddly attractive.”

She glares at him. “Well it’s never happening again. Build me some stairs.”

“Why would I need to build you stairs?” he asks. “You’re not coming back.”

“Like hell I’m not,” she says. “That computer setup you have is tragic. It actually hurts my heart to see. And though I may not approve of your nightly crime fighting, I sure as hell am not going to let you continue to do it alone. You’ll get yourself killed.”

“You are not joining me,” he says firmly, all amusement gone from his voice.

“You are not continuing to go out there alone,” she says. “I won’t allow it.”

“Felicity, you can’t even do a chin up,” he says. “You aren’t going out there.”

“Who said anything about going out there,” she says. “I’m going to be your tech girl. You clearly have your mind set on risking your life for no good reason, and I’m going to have to learn to live with that, I guess. But the only way I’ll be able to sleep at night is if I know you have me there to watch your back.”

“You’re going to be my tech girl?” He eyes her carefully, like he doesn’t believe her.

“One of us in this room has graduated from MIT with a masters in cyber security and computer science and one of us flunked out of four schools,” she says, putting her hands on her hips daring him to say she can’t do the job.

“I don’t want you anywhere near this,” he says, firmly.

“I don’t want you anywhere near this,” she says. “I’ve already lost you once. I’m not doing it again. So either you hang up the hood or you build me some stairs because I’m joining your team.”

He watches her long and hard. She can see his wheels spinning. He’s trying to think of a way to talk her out of this, but he should know her well enough to know that’s not possible.

Felicity stands on her tiptoes and kisses him on his cheek.

“While you try pointlessly to think of a way to talk me out of it, why don’t we get going,” she says, taking his hand and pulling him towards the exit. “I seem to remember something about plans…”

The reminder of sex on the horizon for them is clearly enough for Oliver to let go of his concerns for the time being, because he smiles down at her.

“So many plans.”

****

When Felicity steps into Oliver’s room and he quietly shuts the door behind them, she can’t help but giggle. They are 27 years old and still sneaking around like teenagers.

He gives her a curious look.

“Just like old times,” she says.

He has to laugh at that.

Back when they were still kids and Felicity lived in Starling, she used to sneak into his bedroom at night after everyone went to bed. She hated sleeping in the guest bedroom. She used to think the place was haunted. Even though their nights together were completely innocent, Felicity is sure Moira would have had a heart attack if she ever found out that Oliver and her used to share a bed growing up.

She’ll probably still have a heart attack if she sees Felicity and Oliver sharing a bed now. The two of them together is Moira Queen’s worst nightmare.

“I don’t know why I snuck you up here,” Oliver chuckles. “We’re both adults.”

“Habit,” she says with a shrug. “Besides, I don’t think running into your mother on the stairs would have put me in the mood.”

In fact, the thought of running into Moira at all has her debating if they should have gone to her place. Sure, Tommy’s bound to still be awake and is unlikely to let them live down the fact that they are about to hook up, but him offering them condoms has to be better than the judgemental look she’s sure to get from Moira.

She can already hear the snide remarks about propriety she’ll get. She can only guess what she’ll say to Oliver about her when she leaves.

Felicity Smoak isn’t good enough for Oliver Queen in the eyes of his mother. She never has been. Usually, she can brush that off. Moira is a classist and it really has nothing to do with Felicity personally, it’s just her upbringing. Moira’s ignorant and close minded. But now that Felicity’s actually about to have sex with Oliver, she can hear every negative comment in her mind.

Felicity isn’t good enough for Oliver. This can’t really be happening.

What happens when he realizes she’s nothing special and gets bored with her?

She glances down at herself, wishing she’d stopped long enough to change out of her pajamas before running out of the house. Nothing about her worn out MIT sweatshirt, neon pink sports bra, and martini glass pajama pants screams sexy.

She looks up and realizes they are still standing by the door. He hasn’t moved. He seems to be waiting for her to take the lead here and that thought only increases the nerves. She looks over at his bed and wonders how many other women he’s had up here. How many women he’s slept with in general. She’s heard the stories. She knows that he’s far more adventurous than she is in bed. How is she supposed to measure up to that?

She bites her bottom lip. This is an awful idea. As much as she loves Oliver, and as long as she’s waited for this moment to come, now that it’s here, she’s positive that she’s going to mess it up.

Oliver must sense her hesitancy, because he moves into the room and crooks his finger at her.

“Come here,” he says with that adorable smile of his that has always gotten her into trouble.

She shuffles her feet until she’s standing next to him in front of his bed. He reaches out to grab her hands and threads their fingers together. His thumb moves across the inside of her wrist. The touch is innocent enough, but she feels the warmth in her belly start to pool again. If he can turn her into putty with a simple caress of his fingertips, what is it going to feel like once they are both actually naked?

“Felicity?”

“Hmm?” She looks up from where she’d been staring at their hands to meet his eyes.

“Say it again.”

She doesn’t have to ask him what he’s talking about. She already knows. She knows because she’s replayed the drunken message he left her thousands of times just to hear those three little words that she cherished so much.

“I love you,” she says, loving the way that the words bring a bright smile to his face.

It’s easy to ignore her doubts when he’s smiling at her like she has the answer to every question he’s ever asked. When he’s smiling at her like that, he’s not Oliver Queen, tabloid sensation, he’s just Oliver. Her Oliver.

“I love you, too,” he says, bringing their hands up until they are resting against his heart. “You’re the reason.”

She doesn’t understand what he means by that. She’s the reason for what? She looks at him carefully, trying to figure out what he’s trying to say.

He clears his throat and shifts back and forth on his feet, like he always does when he’s searching for the right words to say. It’s adorable. She’s always thought so. But it’s also comforting in its familiarity. This is quintessential Oliver right here. This is the man she fell in love with, not the face he shows the rest of the world.

“There were many days I didn’t know if I would be able to make it through the day,” he says quietly, his eyes fixed on a spot above her head. “There were many days I didn’t know if I’d ever make it home again. Or if I even deserved to.”

“Oliver,” she gasps in shock.

“You’re the reason I came home,” he says. “I didn’t know if you’d ever love me. Or if you’d even still want to be my friend…”

“Of course I loved you,” she said. “I’ve always loved you. I tried to call you that morning to tell you that, but you’d already left.”

Oliver lets go of her hands and cradles her face instead, pulling her close until their foreheads are touching.

“You’re the reason I came home,” he says again. “You were the light that kept me alive.”

She closes her eyes and thanks god that he did make it home. That she didn’t lose him like she’d thought.

“My North Star,” she whispers the words he’s said all those years ago, and she can feel him nod. She opens her eyes and shivers at the deep intensity in his eyes.

“This, right here?” he pauses to give her a chaste kiss. “This is home.”

“Oliver.” She pulls him into a hug and holds him as close as she can. “You’re my home, too. I’ve been so lost without you.”

“You had Tommy,” he says, squeezing her so tight she can barely breathe, but she doesn’t complain. She needs this.

“Tommy isn’t you,” she says. “He tries, but it’s not the same. I needed you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, burying his face in her neck. “I should have been here. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says. “You would have been here if you could.”

His body tenses at her words, and it reminds her that there is so much more to his story that she doesn’t know, yet.

“You would have been here if you could,” she says, pulling back to look him in the eyes, needing to reassure herself that the words are true.

“You wouldn’t have wanted me to come home,” he says, shaking his head and dropping his hands to his sides. “I’m not the man that left.”

Felicity has to bite back tears as she registers what he’s telling her. He had the option of returning home sooner and didn’t take it. The realization squeezes at her heart painfully. She shakes her head, refusing to believe it.

“I wanted to come home so badly,” he says. “But you deserved better than what I could offer you. You still do.”

“No,” she cries. “You don’t get to tell me what I deserve and don’t. I deserved you. Whatever shape you were in, I needed you.”

“I’m not a good man,” he says.

She’s reminded of the Bratva tattoo on his chest and the scars that litter his body. Of the police reports of the Hood and the violence he uses to get his way. There’s a darkness in Oliver. One she’s been scared of since she discovered his secret. However, the look of regret on his face tells her all she needs to know. Oliver isn’t a bad man. He never has been. He’s just lost. And lost people can be found again.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Nothing you could ever do would ever make you undeserving. Nothing you have become would make me stop wanting you around. You say I’m your North Star, but you don’t realize that you’re mine, too.”

His eyes fill with tears as she says the words, and she can tell he doesn’t believe them but he appreciates them nonetheless.

She still can’t believe that he’s had the opportunity to come home sooner and didn’t take it. It infuriates her. She wants to yell at him. She wants to scream at him for being so selfish. She has so many questions about where he’s been and why he didn’t feel like he could come home. But she holds them in. There will be time for that later. Right now, what they both need is reassurance.

She grabs onto his hands and places them on her hips before wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“You’re home,” she says. “That’s all that matters.”

He nods, like he’s trying to convince himself that it’s true.

“You’re home,” she says it again, because they both need to hear it.

“I love you,” he says slowly, reverently.

He wraps one of his arms around her back and uses the other one to cradle her cheek, lifting her chin up slightly so that he can lean down and kiss her once. Twice. Three times.

When he moves to pull back the third time, she doesn’t let him. She pulls him as close as she can and opens her mouth to him, deepening the kiss.

She’s done with talking. They can have a conversation anytime. Oliver spoke of plans and she’s determined to see what they entail. After all, they both need this.

“You mentioned something about hours...” she whispers, as she turns them around and pushes at him until he’s seated on the edge of the bed.

“Mmmm… So many plans,” he says, pulling on her waist until she straddles his lap.

The hand that’s at her cheek moves to her neck and he kisses her again. This time it’s anything but innocent. It’s deep and wet and so incredibly filthy it would probably make a porn star blush.

But oh dear god is it glorious. Her toes curl. Her skin feels like it’s on fire. She can’t help but grind down on him, and the only thing stopping her from moaning loud enough to wake the entire mansion are his lips glued to her own.

They continue to kiss and explore each other as she begins to move against him. The friction between them is a sweet torture. She doesn’t think she can handle much more, but she also never wants to stop. This moment has been 16 years in the making and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t take the time to enjoy every second.

His lips move from her mouth over to her ear and his teeth pulling at her industrial piercing have her moaning loudly.

“You’re going to wake the whole house,” he teases.

Felicity rolls her eyes. “This place is the size of Disneyland. I can’t imagine anyone is close enough to hear me.”

“Even if they do,” he says, pausing to pull on her ear again, making her moan. “I don’t care. I like hearing you.”

She blushes at that, but moves her hand to the back of his neck to encourage him to continue. His hands find their way to her ass as he pulls her closer. She can feel him against her and it’s driving her crazy. She wants more. She wants all of him.

She pushes against his chest until he falls into the bed. She braces her hands on either side of his head and leans over him to leave open mouth kisses along his neck. It’s her turn to explore.

His skin is salty and he smells like the Fourth of July. And even though she knows she should question him about what he’d been up to this evening that has him smelling like gunfire, she doesn’t. She’s too caught up in her lust to worry about his extracurriculars. No matter what he’s been up to, he made it home alive and safe. He’s here and god does she plan on taking advantage of that.

She mouths at his neck and reveals in the way it makes him thrust up against her. His hands trace up and down her back, lovingly. It’s crazy that his touch can feel so tender and caring while also setting her on fire. Felicity has never wanted anyone as badly as she wants Oliver in this moment.

His hands make their way to the hem of her sweatshirt and she sits up in anticipation of him pulling it off of her, but he doesn’t move. He looks at her, waiting for permission.

She nods to let him know it’s okay. “I’m yours,” she says, making sure it’s clear to him that whatever he wants to do tonight, she’s more than okay with it.

Her words make him groan and he sits up, nearly ripping her sweatshirt from her body. As soon as her head is free, he moves in for a kiss, and her arms end up getting tangled up in the sleeves. She whines, needing to touch him, and he thankfully breaks away from her long enough to help her out of her sweatshirt fully before diving back in, both of them giggling like school children.

She can’t get over how soft his lips are. It’s like he was made for kissing. His tongue explores her mouth and she can barely breathe. Her heart feels like it may come out of her chest. She needs more. He’s intoxicating. Kissing Oliver makes her understand what all those romance novels are talking about. Never before has she been so worked up over a kiss.

“More,” she mumbles, pulling at the hem of his T-shirt. He wraps his arms around her, lifting and twisting her until she’s on her back. He covers her body with his own and thrusts against her, making her cry out.

She’s so embarrassingly wet by now that she’s worried she may actually come before he even gets her clothes off. Which is unacceptable. They need to be naked. Like, yesterday.

Her hands go back to the hem of his shirt, but he grabs onto them and pins them above her head, making her whine. He licks his way down her neck and chest until he gets to her breast and begins leaving open mouth kisses through her bra.

She bends her knees so that she has some leverage and lifts her hips up to meet his own.

“Fuck,” he says, lowering his body to lay on top of her completely. His weight against her is welcome. Instead of feeling trapped, she feels comforted and protected. He’s always made her feel safe and this is no different.

She wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him closer since he won’t let go of her arms. The two of them move together, getting into a nice rhythm as he continues to mouth at her through her bra.

“Off,” she groans, needing their clothes gone.

He rearranges her wrists so he’s pinning her down with one hand — which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is, but damn is he strong — and he pulls her sports bra up with his other hand until her breasts are free.

Oliver has always been impatient, and apparently sex is no different. He gets her bra over her head, but doesn’t bother removing it any further before he buries his head in her chest. Her arms are now trapped in her bra and his arm is still pinning her wrists, making it impossible for her to touch him like she wants to.

“No,” she cries out, tugging on her wrists while simultaneously pulling him closer with her legs.

“Patience,” he says, looking up at her with a devilish smirk that is hardly fair. He’s so fucking handsome. Always has been.

She removes her left leg from around his waist and uses her foot to try and push him away.

“My turn,” she says, her voice high and breathless.

She must sound pathetic, because he takes pity on her and wraps his arm around her waist and rolls them over so she’s straddling his body again.

She untangles herself from her bra and tosses it across the room.

“Better,” she says, smiling down at him.

“Much,” he says, staring at her chest.

His eyes are practically black with lust and his cheeks are flushed. His lips are swollen and red. He looks like pure sin and it does nothing to cool the warm pit in her stomach.

She brings her hands to the hem of his shirt and begins pulling it up but he reaches out to stop her.

“I know I don’t have as much experience as you, but I have it on good authority that clothes are supposed to come off,” she teases.

The look on his face isn’t amused or turned on, it’s worried. His brows are furrowed and he’s retreating into his head, which is the last thing she wants.

“Hey,” she says, dropping his shirt and moving her hands to caress his chest. “Talk to me.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, but doesn’t say anything.

“Do you want to stop?” she asks.

He shakes his head, but doesn’t open his eyes to look at her.

“Oliver,” she says and waits for him to open his eyes. When he does, she smiles down at him, kindly. “It’s just me.”

He takes another steadying breath and lifts his hands up to cradle her face. “I don’t want you to see me.”

His scars.

He’s worried about her seeing the extent of his trauma.

She gets that. She’s insecure about her body, too. Especially as she sits here without a top on, completely exposed. She’s not built like the supermodels he usually sleeps with. Her stomach is soft where it should be toned and she has curves where she should be slender. She knows what it’s like to be unsure about her body, but Oliver has no reason to doubt himself. He’s always been the most handsome man she’s ever met. Some scars won’t change that.

“Show me,” she says.

He hesitates for another moment before he eventually nods. He sits up and together, they take his shirt off.

Felicity saw the pictures from the hospital, so in theory, she was prepared to see him. Reality is something else entirely. The proof of everything he went through to get back home to her claws at her chest and puts knots of worry in her stomach. Her eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, Oliver,” she says.

He looks away in shame and she realizes her mistake. He thinks she doesn’t want him. It couldn’t be farther from the truth. If anything, seeing him just makes her want him all the more. She wants to kiss every inch of him and replace every bad memory with love and affection. She wants him to know how grateful she is that he had the strength to survive. That he chose to come back home to her.

She shifts down so that she’s sitting on his thighs. She traces over his scars with her nails and watches as the muscles in his stomach tighten. She smiles at his reaction and does it again, transfixed by how built he really is. She didn’t know they made men like that without airbrushing and other movie magic. He’s like a real life action hero.

Need pools between her legs, but she ignores it. This moment is for Oliver. He needs to know how much she loves him.

She leans over and places a kiss to the large scar on his shoulder.

“Beautiful,” she whispers into his skin.

His arms wrap around her body and his hand tangles in her ponytail.

She moves across him to leave an open mouth kiss at the large, circular scar on his chest.

“Strong,” she says, leaving several more kisses to the area of skin there to make sure she covers every inch.

She moves to the other side of his chest and licks up the scars there, carefully avoiding his Bratva tattoo. She plans on saving that for last.

“Sexy.”

She licks at his nipple and blows on it, enjoying how it makes him shiver. She looks up at him as she pulls his nipple into her mouth and watches as his mouth opens as closes, unable to form words as he breathes heavily.

She shifts further down and spends a great deal of time on the gash across his rib-cage. The skin is puckered and red even though it looks years old. She can only imagine how bad the injury was to earn him this scar.

“Brave,” she whispers.

His hand tugs on her hair tie and pulls it free. Her curls fall around her shoulders and curtain around her. Oliver reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear, caressing her face with the backs of his fingers.

She glances up at him. He’s looking at her with such love and gratitude that she can’t help but smile at him.

She licks over the animal bite on his side and giggles at the way he squirms under her. It’s a little known secret that Oliver is incredibly ticklish on his sides.

“Stunning.”

Her fingers trace over the perfect V of his hips. Honestly, if she didn’t have the rise and fall of his chest as proof that he’s alive, she wouldn’t believe he was real.

Her eyes follow the trail of hair that disappears into his pants and she wants so badly to tear them off and have her way with him, but she’s not finished yet. She pulls at his hips until he takes the hint and rolls over onto his stomach.

Her eyes immediately go to the massive burn that covers a third of his back.

She runs her hands over it, gently caressing the skin there. The skin is uneven. Of all the scars he has, this one looks the freshest. She wonders how recently he received it and how he even got it.

“Does it hurt?” she asks.

Oliver moves so his arms are under his head and rests his cheek against them. “Sometimes,” he admits, looking back at her over his shoulder.

She removes her hands quickly and apologizes. She doesn’t want to hurt him. That isn’t her intent. She only wants to make him feel good.

“Hey,” he says to get her attention. When she looks up from his scar, he’s smiling at her softly. “It doesn’t hurt when you touch it.”

She nods her head but makes no move to resume her exploration of his body. Her eyes follow the strong muscles of his back and wonders at what point he learned to fight back against the torture he’s clearly endured. Suddenly, him being a ninja isn’t quite so terrifying. She’s relieved to know that he learned to take care of himself. God knows what would have happened to him if he didn’t.

“Felicity,” he says.

“Hmm?” she responds, barely looking up from where she’s studying the lines of his dragon tattoo, trying to figure out what the meaning behind it is.

“It feels good,” he says, raising his eyebrows at her, silenting asking her to resume touching him.

She eyes him carefully, trying to sort out if he’s being honest or just trying to make her feel better.

“It’s been…” he clears his throat, and she smiles at him. 5 years away haven’t made him any more comfortable sharing his feelings. He’s always prefered to show her how he feels with warm hugs, gentle touches, and occasional gifts rather than words. “It’s been awhile since anyone’s touched me like this.”

Well that shatters her heart. Of course it has. From the looks of him, all anyone’s done in the last 5 years is torture him. It’s no wonder he’s enjoying her touch. He’s probably starved for affection.

She places her hands back on him, looking for any sign of discomfort. When all she sees is relief, she traces the outline of his burn mark.

“Perfect,” she says lovingly, leaning down to place gentle kisses to his rough skin.

He lets out a shuddering breath. She wonders if this is hard for him. To lay bare for her and trust that she won’t criticize him or do him any more harm. She hopes not. Oliver has to know how much she cares about him. He has to know that he can trust her with his life.

“I love you,” she says again, for good measure. She spends a great deal of time kissing his burn, tracing the maze of raised skin until his muscles relax and he’s humming contently.

Once she’s satisfied that she’s kissed away any remaining pain there, she moves up his body and lays over his back, mouthing at his dragon tattoo.

“Survivor,” she says.

“Felicity,” he whispers, and attempts to roll over, but she presses all of her weight on him to keep him in his place.

She’s not finished yet. She set out to kiss away every scar on his body and she’s going to do that.

“Shhh,” she says when he goes to complain. She kisses him on the lips to reward him for his patience. She lets his tongue explore her mouth for a little bit and smiles at the way he tries to push back against her.

She pulls away from him and whispers into his ear, “Almost done.”

Oliver growls impatiently. She knows that he could flip them over in a second and have his way with her. His strength is impressive and there’s no way that she’d be able to keep him in place if he truly wanted to move. But he doesn’t attempt to break out of her hold and that makes her smile.

She rubs up and down his arms and massages his shoulders as she moves to kiss at the scars on the back of his neck. Clearly she hits one of his sensitive spots because he moans and cries out her name.

“Lovely,” she says as she places a kiss against each of the small scars that litter his neck.

She sits back up and runs her hands over his back, massaging at the tight muscles there. She takes her time rubbing over every inch of him as he moans under her. The sounds send a bolt of anticipation straight to her core and she honestly cannot wait until he’s inside of her.

Once she has worked out every knot in his muscles, she taps at his side to get him to roll over. He takes direction well, which shouldn’t surprise her. He was always easy to boss around when they were kids. Everyone else always said Oliver was stubborn, but she never had a hard time getting him to listen to her when she wanted.

She settles back down on his lap and Oliver grabs the back of her neck and pulls her to him, kissing her desperately. He practically devours her as his hands go directly to her ass and pull her against him.

She hisses as he rubs against her. The build up has been too much, she’s overcome with need.

“More,” she groans as her hands reach blindly for his zipper.

“Yes,” he cries out as she rubs him a few times through his pants before finding the button and ripping it open.

His hands move up to massage her breasts.

“Oh god,” she moans as he rolls her nipples between his fingers, causing her nerves to go haywire.

God, those fingers aren’t even fair. She takes back everything she said about archery being utterly ridiculous because she’s sure that’s what she has to thank for the way he’s able to twist and pull at her so gracefully.

She tries to pull his pants down, but she can't coordinate her hands when he’s busy kissing her like there’s no tomorrow and thrusting against her at a painful pace.

“Oliver,” she whines as his mouth moves to her neck and his hands go back to her ass, pulling her against him.

Everything is too much. His hands, his mouth, his body, it’s overwhelming. The room feels like it’s on fire and her body is practically trembling with need. So much need. She needs to touch, to taste, to feel. She’s waited years for this moment and she needs… God does she need.

The sound of his lips sucking at her neck is utterly filthy and so incredibly sexy. She pulls at his hair to get him to lift his head. He growls, which shouldn’t be a turn on for her, but it is. Oliver’s looking at her like he wants to consume her and despite how much she thought that would make her feel like an object rather than a person, with Oliver it’s different. She knows that he cares about her. He respects her. He just wants her as badly as she wants him.

It’s everything she ever wanted and nothing she ever thought she’d get.

She mouths down his neck and chest, stopping to trace the lines of his Bratva tattoo with her tongue.

“Home,” she says, possessively, causing him to moan loudly. His hands find their way back into her hair and he tries to pull her back up to his lips, but she continues her path downwards, finding his other tattoo.

“My home,” she says, sucking at the skin there and biting it until he cries out in pleasure. “Mine.”

“Yours,” he agrees.

She stops her frantic pace for a second and rests her head against his stomach, looking up at him. Both of them taking in the moment. This is it. It’s really happening.

He smiles down at her, blissfully happy. She doesn’t actually know the last time she saw him so happy. It’s been years. Before the Gambit. Before college even. She thinks it may have been high school. The time he flew to Las Vegas to surprise her for her birthday and they spent the entire weekend talking and watching movies in his hotel room. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year when he’d shown up on her doorstep and they’d both been so relieved to see each other again that Oliver hardly let her out of his sight. He had kept pulling her in for tight hugs and telling her he missed her constantly.

God, she should have told him back then how she felt. They could have had so much time together.

“Stop,” he says, smoothing out the worry lines on her forehead. “No more thinking, just be.”

“Just be?” she teases. As if she’s ever able to turn her brain off.

“Just be,” he repeats. His arms wrap around her and he flips them over faster than she can blink and shifts down so that their foreheads are touching.

“I love you so much,” he says.

“I love you, too.”

She doesn’t know if she’ll ever tire of saying that to him. Of hearing him say it to her.

He kisses her again and this time it’s slow, filled with so much promise. His hands caress her sides and send goosebumps over her body. He pulls on her bottom lip with his teeth, eliciting the most erotic sound she’s ever made. She instantly blushes and tries to hide her face in his shoulder, but he won’t let her.

“So sexy,” he says breathlessly as he ruts against her.

She’s ready. She’s been ready for so long it’s painful. If she doesn’t come soon, she’s worried she may actually die. Her hands go to the tie at her pajama pants and Oliver grabs her wrists and pulls them over her head, pinning her to the bed, unable to move. Again. If this is going to be a thing of his, they are going to have to talk. She needs to be able to touch him. It’s not fair.

“Let me,” he says, kissing her protests away.

He lets go of her wrists, but she doesn’t move her arms. Instead, she watches as Oliver gently pulls at the drawstring of her pants, the bow coming undone easily.

“Oliver,” she cries out as he places an open mouth kiss under her belly button. His mouth is warm and wet and she wants so much more.

“Yes,” she says as his hands make their way into her underwear, finally touching her where she needs him most.

“So wet,” he pants, and when she looks into his eyes, he’s fargone. His pupils are so dilated that his eyes are almost completely black. She can’t imagine she’s any better.

She begins rutting against his hand, and attempts to pull her pants off so that he can have more access, but she can’t manage that kind of coordination when her body is trembling and her vision is going white with pleasure.

She’s breathing heavily and making needy noises that can’t be attractive at all, but she can’t help it. It’s too much. She can feel her orgasm building up and she needs more. She squeezes her thighs to keep his hands in place, terrified that he’s going to stop at any second. Scared that she’s going to wake up and realize this was just another one of her vivid dreams. That she’ll come to and find that he was never here at all.

“Let go,” he says, his voice deeper than she’s ever heard it before.

He rubs at her clit quickly, the pace almost painful. Her thighs are shaking and she can barely catch her breath. She cries out as her vision goes completely white and her orgasm finally hits her. Wave after wave of pleasure wash over her until she melts into the mattress, unable to form any coherent words. Every muscle in her body is useless. She can’t move.

“Fuck,” she sighs, trying to catch her breath again.

Oliver’s fingers hook into her waistband and pull her pants and underwear off of her in one seamless motion.

She’s just had the most mind blowing orgasm of her life, so it takes her a minute to realize that Oliver is staring at her. His eyes are taking in every inch of her body and that’s when she finally processes that she’s completely naked in front of him for the first time.

And he’s just… watching her, not doing anything.

She instantly feels nervous. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe he doesn’t like what he sees. She tries to remember if she’d even taken the time to shave this morning. God, she hopes so. It’s not something she always does anymore. It’s not like she’s had anyone to shave for.

As each moment passes and he doesn’t move, she grows more self-conscious. The warm glow of her orgasm is wearing off and she starts shifting under his gaze. She closes her legs and wraps her arms around her chest to cover herself up.

“What are you doing?” she asks, scared he’s going to tell her this has been a mistake. After all, she’s not like the girls he usually sleeps with. Maybe now that he’s seen her, he’s realizing that she can’t give him what he needs.

Oliver takes hold of her wrists and gently uncrosses them, lacing their fingers together and pulling them over her head as he leans over her to give her a gentle kiss.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says with tears in his eyes. “There wasn’t a single night that I didn’t think of you. That I didn’t wish for this. But the reality is just so much better than I imagined.”

Felicity smiles at that. She knows him well enough to know that he truly believes his words. She kisses him again, tracing his teeth with her tongue until he opens up to her. His tongue pushes into her mouth to explore and she sucks on it, trying to memorize his taste. If this is the only moment they ever get, she wants to remember every second of it.

She hopes that fate is done being cruel to them, however. She hopes that they are finally being given a reprieve from all the pain. That they’ll grow to be old and grey and still be having sex like it’s their first time. She wants tonight, but she also wants forever. They’ve earned it.

Oliver pulls away and looks directly into her eyes, “I need you.”

Felicity nods, giving him permission. She needs him, too.

She kisses him again, and just like a rubber band, his restraint snaps. His hands are everywhere at once, his fingers are desperate to touch every inch of her. His lips follow suit, dragging over her body and sucking at every piece of skin he can reach. She’s sure there will be marks in the morning, but she doesn’t care. If he wants to mark her as his own, she’s happy to let him. She’s waited 16 years to be his.

She tries to pull his pants down, but she can’t reach. He’s just so tall. She moves her legs to try and push them off with her heels, impatient to get him naked and inside of her and quickly as she can. She manages to get his pants down past his ass but that’s about it. Which is fine, it gives her an opportunity to grab at that delicious ass of his.

Oliver’s always had a good booty. She grabs and pulls at him, making him groan and thrust right into her. When she looks down, the front of his pants are soaking wet from her.

She sincerely hopes that Raisa sends his clothes out for laundry and the kind housekeeper won’t have to clean her sex off of Oliver’s expensive pants.

“Now,” she cries out as he thrusts against her again, rubbing at her clit almost painfully. He needs his pants off. The material is doing nothing for her. She can feel her walls clenching with want, desperate to have him inside of her.

Oliver rolls off of her long enough to pull his pants and underwear off of his body. The cool air has her reaching out for him to cover her again. When he rolls back onto her and she feels his length against her entrance, she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out loud enough to wake the entire house.

He buries his face in her neck and she can feel his moan against her and she imagines he’s doing the same thing. Trying to remain somewhat in control so that they don’t have his family rushing in her thinking he’s being attacked.

“Condom,” he says, pointing at his nightstand, as if she doesn’t already know where he keeps them. Where he has kept them since his dad first gave them to him in 8th grade. He may never have used them with her before, despite her wishing he would, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t know where he kept them.

She reaches out for the drawer, accidentally knocking a bottle of water off of the nightstand as Oliver sucks at her pulse point and she looses focus.

She glances over to look at what she’s doing and notices he still has the framed photo of them from the Fourth of July Festival on his nightstand. The one from the summer before 8th grade where she’s smiling at the camera and he’s smiling at her like she’s his entire world. It catches her breath. She doesn’t know how she’d missed it before. She has the same photo hanging up in her living room. She passes by it every day. Oliver really had loved her, even then, and she hadn’t seen it.

The photo is creased and torn, like it had been in his pocket at some point and there are obvious signs of water damage.

She reaches out to trace his face in the frame and he stops sucking at her neck long enough to look up.

“I had that with me on the island,” he admits.

“What?”

She hears him, but she doesn’t process the words.

“I kept it with me,” he says.

“You were shipwrecked on a deserted island, lost everything, and yet you managed to keep this photo of us?” she asks in disbelief.

“It’s my favorite picture of you,” he says. “Now… condom.”

He rubs against her entrance causing her to cry out.

Yes. He’s right. There will be time for conversation later. Right now, she needs a condom so that he can fuck her like she desperately needs.

She opens the drawer and feels around until her fingers land on a foil wrapper.

“Please tell me these aren’t expired,” she says as she hands it to him.

“Do condoms expire?” he asks.

“You’re joking,” she says. “Condoms expire. Though I guess you wouldn’t ever have to worry about that since you used to go through a box a week.”

She doesn’t mean it like it sounds. She really never judged Oliver for his sexual promiscuity. She might not have liked the girls he slept with, but she never judged how often he had sex. Hell, it’s not like she can blame him when gorgeous women throw themselves at him. And she can hardly blame the women he got into bed with. He’s charming as hell and sex on a stick.

“Uh…” Oliver looks at her sheepishly and she knows that the condoms in his drawer are at least five years old and in no way good any longer. That fact makes her oddly relieved. She doesn’t want to think about Oliver getting back from the island and immediately buying condoms so he could have sex with random women.

She rolls out of bed.

“No,” Oliver cries out, reaching out to her.

“You’re lucky our best friend is a pervert who’s always trying to get me laid,” she mutters as she grabs her purse.

“Why does Tommy keep condoms in your purse?” he asks darkly.

“Because Tommy is a perpetual wingman,” she says, pulling two different size condoms out of her purse and walking back over to the side of the bed. “Now I don’t want to presume… He’s given me large and xtra large. You felt big but… I should really quit while I'm ahead here. I never thought I would be asking my best friend what his penis size was. I just always assumed you would know and it wouldn't be a problem.”

Felicity’s head catches up with her mouth and she immediately realizes her mistake. Damn her babbling, always getting her into trouble.

“Not that I thought about it. Your size, I mean,” she says, sure that she’s blushing all the way to her toes. “I thought about this before but never in this much detail and it's so much better than I imagined but I don't know where to go from here and I am so sorry I have totally ruined the mood, haven't I?” she asks awkwardly, both wrappers in her hands.

Oliver plucks one from her hand, and cradles her face with his hands, kissing her gently. Or, more likely, kissing her quiet. She’s sure she’s embarrassed him as much as she’s embarrassed herself.

“It's you,” he says, smiling at her adorably. “You could never ruin anything.”

Oliver opens the foil wrapper with his teeth and begins rolling it down his dick, but she slaps his hand out of the way so she can put it on herself, loving the way he moans at her touch. She’s never been one for power play, but the way he reacts to her turns her on.

She bites her lip as she wraps her hands around him once the condom is on and starts working him, twisting her wrist at the top and drawing the most delicious sounds out of him. She gets back onto the bed, but doesn’t allow him to pull her up to meet her lips. No, she has other plans. She moves down the bed until her mouth is lined up with his stomach and leaves open mouth kisses below his belly button, the only part of him that isn’t marred by countless scars.

“Felicity,” he cries out, attempting to pull her up, but she doesn’t let him. Instead, she moves her mouth downward, following the sexy trail of hair until she’s kissing at the base of his dick and he’s thrusting up, begging her for more. She licks along the length of him and revels in the way his hips lift up off of the bed, trying to chase her mouth.

“Please,” he says, breathless.

She takes him into her mouth, as deep as she can, wrapping her hand around the base as she does.

“Felic—” he moans, unable to even form full words. She watches him as she begins working him over with her mouth, loving the way his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head.

She takes the tip of his dick into her mouth and swirls her tongue over the head; slowly bobbing her head up and down. She takes her time as Oliver clearly struggles to remain still.

She twists her wrist as she moves up and down, trying to maximize the pleasure for him. He grabs at the headboard, then the sheets aimlessly, trying to avoid grabbing onto her hair. He’s trying to show restraint, but restraint isn’t for people who have waited 16 years for this moment.

She reaches up and grabs onto his wrist, placing his hand at the back of her neck. He takes the hint and begins thrusting up into her mouth, moaning loudly.

“Fuck!” he cries out as she swirls her tongue around the head before letting go with a sinful popping sound. She licks at the ridge of his cock before using the tip of her tongue to trace a vein back down to his base. She mouths at the base and Oliver’s hips start moving aimlessly while he whines — literally whines — below her.

“Felicity, please, yes, please, more,” he cries out, his voice high and breathless. He’s so wanton. She wonders if he’s always like this in bed or if it’s the result of 5 years of island induced celibacy.

She’s assuming he’s been celibate. Tommy had made some pointed comments to her about Oliver going 1,839 days without sex. But who knows. Knowing Oliver, he’d managed to find the one female prisoner on the island and slept with her.

She licks at his sac and smiles as his hips lift off of the bed and his grip at the back of her neck tightens.

“Please,” he begs.

She takes pity on him and wraps her mouth back around him. She takes him as deep as she can, doing her best to breathe through her nose so she doesn’t gag on him. His breathing intensifies and she can feel him starting to lose control as his hips thrust up without rhythm and he starts muttering incoherently.

“Yes... Fuck... There... Yes... God... Right there… Love... Beautiful... Never... Fuck...”

He continues to sing her praises in various languages that she doesn’t understand, and she can tell by the way his nails dig into the back of her neck that he’s close. He tries to pull her off, but she doesn’t move. He’s got a condom on, so she’s not concerned about the mess. The only concern she has is Oliver’s pleasure.

She lets go of his dick and takes him even deeper and reaches out to massage his balls.

She doesn’t understand what he’s saying, but the deep growl of his voice tells her that whatever it is, it’s good.

His hands find their way into her hair and right as she’s pulling off of him, his hips lift off of the mattress and he begins to come with a very loud, “Fuck!”

She wraps her mouth back over him as he continues to thrust up into her and works him over until he’s a giant pile of goo beneath her. She’s has to say, watching him completely lose it gives her quite the confidence boost. She gently removes the condom from him and tosses it into the garbage can next to his bed. She moves up his body and kisses him gently, loving the way his lips chase after her, even as she pulls away.

“I love you,” she tells him, running her hands up and down his chest as he struggles to catch his breath.

Felicity opens and closes her mouth trying to work out the tightness that has formed there. He’s a lot bigger than she expected. Not that she’s thought about his size often... She bites her lip in anticipation as she thinks about how amazing he’ll feel pounding into her. She’s had her fair share of sex in her life, but it’s never been anything to write home about. Nothing life changing. But she knows, somehow, that it’s going to be different with Oliver. With him, she’ll understand what all of the fuss is about.

“You’re amazing,” he says, rolling over so that he’s laying on top of her. “Everything.”

She rolls her eyes. He’s just saying that because she’s just given him a wonderful orgasm. He probably says that to all the girls he beds.

He kisses at her neck as he grabs onto her knees and pulls her legs wider apart. “Oliver?”

His fingers find their way to her entrance and she can’t help but moan as he teases her, rubbing gently up and down before moving up to her clit.

“Oh–” she gasps as his other hand comes around and his fingers start circling her entrance, working her over with both hands.

She’s soaked. She cringes at the sounds her body makes as his fingers move over her.

“So fucking hot,” he says, moving down her body until he’s at her entrance. His tongue comes out to taste her. “So wet.”

His mouth is warm and his fingers are strong, and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to handle any of this.

Felicity grabs onto the sheets and holds on tight as his mouth moves to suck on her clit and his finger enters her slowly, pumping in and out, testing how tight she is.

She opens her legs wider for him, her eyes transfixed on him devouring her. He’s glancing up at her and she can just barely see his eyes as he watches her from between her thighs. She can see enough to know he’s exactly where he wants to be. He looks happy, and that makes her happy, because this? What he’s doing? He can do that as often as he likes. She has zero complaints about what he’s doing. He gets a perfect 10.

“Yes,” she cries out as he slides another finger into her. “More.”

“You’re so tight,” he mutters as he scissors his fingers to stretch her out before adding a third finger.

His tongue flicks at her clit quickly and she moans loudly, causing him to laugh. The low rumble sends a delicious vibration through her core.

“Again,” she says, reaching out for him aimlessly and patting his head to get his attention once she locates him. “That. More. Again.”

Oliver chuckles again. “I love you,” he says before he wraps his lips around her clit and starts humming.

A wave of nerves shoot through her entire body and she starts trembling with need. Her orgasm starts to build and it’s only a matter of time before it hits. He pumps his fingers in and out of her, thrusting into her nice and deep, just the way she likes it. The way she always tries to do herself but her fingers aren’t long enough. Oliver’s fingers are perfect.

“So fucking perfect,” she mumbles as she raises her hips to chase his fingers as he pulls out of her.

“No,” she whines, reaching out to try and grab his hands, but he’s too far away.

“What are you — Shit!” she cries out as his tongue enters her and begins licking at her walls.

She sits up on her elbows so that she can get better leverage to grind down against his tongue as it thrusts into her.

“Yes! There! Yes!” she cries out.

It’s not that she’s never had anyone eat her out before. She’s experienced it once or twice, but never with somebody that actually knew what they were doing and Oliver should get a masters degree in eating a girl out. He has her seeing stars in less than a minute. She tries to gain traction by digging her heals into the bed, but her legs keep on slipping as he licks at her core, drinking her in.

“Oliver—” she moans loudly as he rubs at her clit.

At this rate, she isn’t going to last another minute and she wants to. She wants to feel him inside of her.

She reaches down to pull at his hair until he finally lets go of her with an embarrassingly loud slurp.

“Inside, now,” she says, barely able to form words as she struggles to breathe.

He uses his super quick vigilante-ninja skills to hop out of bed and grab another condom from her purse and he’s back in a matter of seconds.

“What do you need that many condoms in your purse for?” he asks as his fingers fumble trying to get the foil package open, but she can’t offer any help. She’s too fargone to be of any use to anyone. Heck, she can feel herself thrusting up into open air and there is nothing she can do to stop it. After a few tries, he manages to tear the package open and slip the condom on.

When he crawls back over her and lines himself up at her entrance, she breathes in a sigh of relief. This is it. The moment. They are finally going to be together as she’s always wanted.

He rests his forehead against hers and looks into her eyes, asking for her permission to breach this one last boundary between them.

“Please,” she whispers.

Oliver pushes into her slowly and she has to close her eyes against the initial pain. Even with all the preparation he’s done to make sure she’s ready, he’s still extremely large inside of her, and it has been too long since she had any type of sex, so she is impossibly tight. She tries her best to relax, but there’s only so much she can do. She just tries to breathe through it.

“Love you,” he says through gritted teeth. She can tell that it’s taking everything in him not to thrust into her with total abandon.

She takes several deep breaths in and out and he pauses once he is seated deep inside of her, kissing her on the forehead, then the cheek, then finally, her lips.

She opens her eyes and he brushes her cheek with the back of his fingertips tenderly. He’s silently asking if she’s okay. She takes a few more breaths before nodding, kissing his fingers softly. She’s never been more perfect in her life. This is everything — everything — she’s ever wanted.

He stays there for several moments, waiting for her to adjust to him. When she feels like she can breathe again, she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a kiss, thrusting her hips against him, willing him to move.

He pulls back to stare into her eyes, wearing a goofy grin and she wonders if she doesn’t have one to match. After all, this moment is perfect. Never in a million years did she expect they’d ever get to this point, but here they are.

Her legs move around his waist and she uses that leverage to thrust up into him. If he doesn’t start moving soon, she may spontaneously combust.

He shakes his head once, then begins thrusting into her. After that, reality blurs. Time stops and the world shrinks down to just the two of them. He sucks on her neck as she scratches at his back, trying to stop herself from floating to the ceiling.

He braces his arms on either side of her head and digs his knees into the mattress to get the proper leverage. He starts hitting her at the perfect angle and she loses all ability to think as he thrusts into her at full strength. She has to remind herself to breathe.

Her hands move to brace against the headboard and she grinds against him. Chasing her orgasm.

“Felicity,” he pants out her name, making it several more syllables than normal. She can tell he’s close. She’s not surprised given how tight she is and how long he’d had to wait for her to adjust to his size.

“Let go,” she says.

“No,” he argues, his voice high and needy. “Want... last. Want forever.”

“Again,” she says, trying to form a coherent sentence but it’s difficult when he’s pounding into her and hitting her G-spot repeatedly. She can barely see straight.

“Can do again,” she says. “And again. And again. So much sex. All of the sex. Forever having sex. We won’t leave the bed.”

“Yes,” he says, burying his face in her chest and mouthing at her breasts. “Never want to stop.”

Felicity nods and nearly screams when his pace increases and he manages to thrust into her even deeper than before.

“Fuck!” she calls out and he quickly covers her next scream up with a kiss.

It’s probably a good idea. She doesn’t need the entire house bursting in, interrupting her just as they are about to come together. This moment has been a long time coming and they don’t need anything messing it up. They’ve had enough roadblocks, thank you very much.

He bites at her lower lip and she digs her nails into his ass.

“I love you,” she says against his lips and he finally lets go. His back arches and his lips leave hers as he gasps. Her walls clench down on him and he mumbles something in another language that sounds positively filthy.

His hand reaches down to rub at her clit as he says, “Come with me.”

His lips find her nipple and barely two seconds later her vision whites out and her brain short circuits.

When she comes to, she is laying on top of Oliver and he’s running one hand up and down her back and another through her hair. Words still feel beyond her, so she kisses his chest instead as a thank you. She’s not entirely sure how long she’s been out of it, but considering she doesn’t feel sticky and gross down there like she usually does after sex, it’s probably been awhile. He’s had enough time to clean them both up.

She turns her head so that she can look up at him, but his face is blurry.

Curious. She doesn’t remember when she took off her glasses, but they’re gone now. Had they been on during sex?

She debates the importance of sight. She wants to be able to look at him properly, but she also can’t imagine moving. She’s boneless. Is it possible for sex to be so hot that it melts bone? Because she feels like a puddle of goo right now.

She snuggles deeper into his chest and closes her eyes. Since she can’t see, she focuses on how he feels underneath her. For as hard as his chest is, it makes a surprisingly comfortable pillow. He���s pulled his old chenille throw blanket over them. The navy one that she’s always been obsessed with because it’s impossibly soft. She could die right here and be happy.

Except she doesn’t want to die, because she wants to stay in this moment forever. As amazing as the sex had been, and it had been amazing — The toe-curling, brag to all of your girlfriends, dream about it when you’re alone with your vibrator kind of amazing sex that legends are made out of good — it’s this moment that she cherishes the most.

It reminds her of all those lazy Sundays where they lay on the couch together cuddling and watching movies. Just laying together, not needing to talk, but knowing that he was there for her… Those were the moments she’s missed the most over the past 5 years. And this? Snuggling against Oliver while naked? It’s an upgraded version of that. It’s the Taj Mahal of cuddling.

“I imagined… God, I thought I knew what being with you would feel like,” he says. “I never… fuck, Felicity, that was.. You… You’re remarkable.”

Felicity smiles against his skin at the compliment. “Thank you for remarking on it.”

She places a kiss over his heart before pushing up onto her elbows to look for her glasses.

It would be a lot easier to find her glasses, however, if she could actually see. She squints her eyes and scans the room. Oliver taps her shoulder. When she looks up at him, he gently places her glasses on her face.

“Better?” he asks.

She scoots up his body until she’s close enough to kiss.

“Much.”

His fingers fist in her hair as she kisses him tenderly. They spend several minutes making out, neither of them pushing for more. The desperate need has been sated, so now they can just enjoy.

“You taste like chocolate,” he says with a smile once she pulls away and rests her head against his shoulder. “I always figured you’d taste like coffee… or wine.”

“Mmmm,” she moans. “Wine sounds delicious. I’d ask you to go get me some from downstairs, but I don’t want you to move.”

“I probably still have a bottle or two stashed up here somewhere. My mom said they didn’t touch anything while I was away,” he says.

Felicity sits up in bed, pulling the blanket with her as she goes.

“Where would you have kept it?” she asks, her eyes scanning the room. The last time she was in his room, they were in 8th grade and wine wasn’t exactly Oliver’s style. He had only just started drinking the year before and pretty much stuck to beer.

Oliver rolls out of bed, not bothering to cover himself up, and for that she’s grateful. It gives her the chance to watch him in all of his toned glory. He truly is a sight to behold. Felicity’s never thought that naked men were that attractive. While rock hard abs and a nice ass will get her worked up, the second boxers come off it’s for function not for aesthetics. But Oliver? He’s sexy. Every inch of him is beautiful. And he’s all hers.

God. How on Earth did she get to be so lucky?

He moves to his desk and opens the bottom drawer, smiling at what he finds. He reaches in and pulls out a bottle of red.

“Yes,” she says, pumping her fist at the discovery.

“It’s a cab, too,” he says. “Your favorite.”

He takes a corkscrew out of the top drawer and opens the bottle.

“Do I want to know who that bottle was originally intended for?” she asks.

“Probably not,” he says sheepishly. “Though if I had known I had a chance in hell with you back then, I wouldn't have wasted my time with anyone else.”

Oliver walks back over the bed and climbs in, sitting down next to her.

“We wasted so much time, didn’t we?” she asks with a frown.

Oliver sighs. “At least we’re here now.”

He hands her the open bottle of wine. “Sorry, I don’t have any glasses.”

“It’s like college all over again,” she says with a smile. She smells the bottle, making sure the wine isn’t corked. When she’s satisfied that it’s still good, she takes a swig and passes it to him.

After he takes a swig of his own, he settles back against the headboard and pulls her into his arms until she’s resting against his chest.

“You never answered my question,” he says, nuzzling behind her ear.

“What question was that?”

“What you need that many condoms for?” His voice sounds grumpy. LIke he’s imagining her going out and having sex every single night. It makes her laugh.

“I told you, Tommy is a perpetual wingman,” she says. When Oliver doesn’t respond, she adds, “My purse is full of condoms for a reason, Oliver. I haven’t really used them.”

He breathes a sigh of relief that makes her roll her eyes. He’s always been so annoyed at the thought of her with any other man. Looking back, she can see now that it was jealousy. He wanted her and didn’t think he could have her.

“Instead of getting annoyed at him, you should send Tommy a thank you note,” Felicity says. “If it weren’t for those condoms we wouldn’t have been able to have sex tonight.”

“I would have sent somebody out,” he says, causing her to laugh.

She has no doubt that he would have done just that. She’s glad they didn’t have to wake up one of the staff members to make a condom run. She would never have been able to look them in the eyes again.

They settle into silence, passing the wine back and forth between them, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

She still can’t believe this is happening. When she was younger, she didn’t think any boys would ever look her way, let alone Oliver. Then she moved to Vegas and the distance pretty much sealed their fate. It didn’t matter that she finally started losing the baby fat in her face and puberty eventually kicked in, Oliver was too far away to ever be an option. By college, she had Cooper and Oliver had started his toxic back and forth with Laurel. She didn’t stand a chance. The moment she realized she did, that they could actually be together, fate stepped in and the Gambit was lost at sea.

The fact that Oliver came home was a miracle. She didn’t dare ask for more. But more she got. Oliver is here with her. She’s in his bed. The bed that they used to stay up late talking for hours on. It was on this bed that he gave her that Valentine’s Day present and she realized she was in love with him. It seems only fitting that they are back here again.

For such a monumental moment, it’s surprisingly normal. As she lies against him and he traces designs into her stomach, it feels like they’ve been doing this for years. There’s no awkwardness between them. She isn’t anxious like she’s been with other men the first time they slept together. It helps that Oliver and her have years of shared history. He’s her best friend. The fact that they are now sleeping together doesn’t change that.

Oliver brushes her hair over her shoulder and kisses at her exposed neck. “You know, this was a million times better than the first kiss,” he says.

“Wasn’t your first kiss with McKenna Hall?” she asks, sipping at the wine, wanting to make it last since the bottle is almost empty now.

“Spin the bottle kisses don’t count,” he says, taking the bottle from her.

“Well somebody should go back in time and let your seventh grade self know that before you break Alex Holder’s nose,” she says with a laugh, thinking back to Annabelle Brodeur’s 13th birthday party where she’d played Spin the Bottle for the first time and Oliver had lost his shit thinking that Alex had gotten a little too generous with his use of tongue.

“Yeah, well the little shit deserved it,” Oliver grumbles, tightening his grip around her possessively, as if Alex is going to show up at any moment to try and steal her away.

“I’m pretty sure he had plastic surgery because his nose looking a lot less crooked these days.”

She’d seen Alex at Oliver’s welcome back party and noticed his nose definitely looked straighter than it used to. She’s 100% certain that Alex’s crooked nose was the reason that no boy attempted to kiss her again until she moved to Vegas. The boys in their class were too nervous that Oliver would deck them, too.

God, she was naive. Oliver had been jealous, she was just too stupid to see it. She wrote it off as him being overprotective. Like a brother. She never imagined he could possibly feel for her what she felt for him.

“A problem he wouldn’t have if he didn’t go around molesting girls,” Oliver says, causing her to roll her eyes. Alex had hardly molested her. In fact, he’d been a pretty decent first kiss, until Oliver had pulled him off of her. “But that wasn’t what I meant. I was talking about our first kiss.”

Felicity glances back over her shoulder at him, curious what he’s talking about. They’d had their first kiss tonight, down in the Arrow Cave.

Yes, she’s decided they are going to call it the Arrow Cave. Bunker sounds too militant and the Hood is an awful name for a vigilante. The Arrow is much cooler. Much more fitting for a hero.

“You don’t remember,” Oliver says, passing back the bottle. “I’m not surprised. You were pretty drunk. Drunker than I’ve ever seen you.”

What is he talking about?

If she had kissed Oliver, she would remember that. Felicity has been in love with Oliver since middle school. If she had kissed him, she would know. Right?

She thinks back to all the times they’ve been drunk together. There are quite a lot, but there’s only one time she’s ever been drunk enough with him to black out and not remember the night.

She’d woken up with a feeling that they’d kissed but she’d been certain that she made that up.

“That night I met you at Royale?” she asks.

“You kissed me at the karaoke bar,” he tells her, running his hands up and down her arms, sending a twinge to her center that she ignores. They cannot possibly have sex again. For one, she’s too sore. More importantly, she needs to know what he’s talking about.

“We did karaoke?” she asks, trying to piece together what little she remembers of that night. Not only was she drunker than a sorority girl during pledge week, but it was also 5 years ago.

“You made me sing Hanson with you,” he says, cringing.

“Oh like you don't know every word to MMMBop,” she says, trying to cover up how genuinely upset she is that she can’t remember kissing Oliver.

He doesn’t respond, which confirms it. Oliver has always been a closeted Top 40 fan.

“Did I really kiss you?” she asks, twisting the now empty bottle in her hand.

Oliver kisses her on the lips tenderly. “I promise the bunker kiss was a much better kiss. I’d rather you remember that one.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks. “I thought I imagined that.”

“Because you were drunk and I assumed you didn’t mean it like I wanted you to,” he says, holding her close against his chest. “You were so upset over Cooper that I assumed that you were just using me as an easy rebound.”

“Oliver,” she whispers, feeling guilty that she let him believe she would ever use him that way. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re naked in my bed,” he says pointedly. “I’m not complaining about whatever road we had to take to get us here.”

Felicity takes a long swig from the bottle before putting it on the night stand. She then turns around and straddles his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I love you so much,” she says. “I need you to know that.”

“I do,” he says with a smile. “I don’t understand how, but I do.”

“Good,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, long and slow. Her tongue pushes into his mouth gently and she moans when his own meets hers.

His nails trace up and down her back, sending shivers over her body. She could get used to this. She’d happily spend the rest of her life kissing Oliver. He makes her feel safe and loved. The fact that he can’t see why she would love him back is absurd.

“You’ve always been my hero,” she says. “Since that first day of school. Protected me from the world. Let me cry on your shoulder. Is it really that strange that I fell in love with you?”

“I just know you’re too good for me,” he says. “Always have been.”

“Don’t let your mom hear you say that.”

“Screw my mom,” Oliver says. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I would have been a spoiled prick without you there to knock me down a peg or two whenever I got to full of myself.”

“And you made sure I got out of my head and lived in the moment,” she says. “We’re good for each other.”

“The best,” he says, pulling her to him so he can resume kissing her.

Her walls start to twitch, wanting him to fill her again. She didn’t think it was possible to want sex again, but then again, she’s never had sex with anyone that she’s waited for as long as she’s waited for Oliver. Everything about him is different and new for her.

She grinds down against him, eliciting a growl from him. He flips them around so that she’s laying back on the bed and he’s hovering over her.

“Are you starting to see the merits of a bed?” he teases, rubbing his growing erection against her entrance, causing her to moan.

Felicity nods. “Beds. Beds are good…” she says, grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him deeply.

He pulls away from her when she wraps her legs around him and starts grinding against him. He shakes his head.

“No, this time we’re going to do it nice and slow,” he says.

She’s not sure if she likes the smirk he’s wearing. It’s too mischievous and she’s sure that means all kinds of trouble for her. Oliver braces himself on one arm as his other hand runs up and down her sides slowly, making her belly flutter with need. She bites her lip and he mutters something in another language.

“What is that?” she asks, realizing that she may have a thing for languages, because Oliver has spoken in different languages a few times now and it’s incredibly sexy.

“Russian,” he says, distractedly as he stares at her mouth. “Do you know how many times I used to get hard watching you bite your lip like that in class. It was torture.”

She laughs, picturing Oliver in those uncomfortable desks, squirming as he tries to hide his erection from Mrs. Harrington. If she had known back then that she had the power to turn him on, she would have had a lot more fun in their English class.

“Like this?” she asks, biting her lip again, causing him to grumble and nip at her neck playfully.

“Exactly like that,” he says. “You were the death of me.”

“Good,” she says. “Serves you right. I can’t tell you how much I dreaded coming over to your house in the summer. You lived in nothing but a bathing suit.”

Oliver lets out a full belly laugh at that. “I was trying to impress you.”

“I was impressed,” she says, running her fingers up and down his chest. “I just couldn’t show you. I thought you were in love with McKenna.”

“I was in love with you,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Tommy told me if I talked about McKenna enough that it would make you jealous.”

“Tommy is an idiot,” she says.

“Agreed.”

Oliver’s fingers move over her stomach and she sucks in, hoping he doesn’t notice the extra layer of fat she has there.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, seriously, looking at her intensely, like he’s reading her mind. “Do you know how many girls I’ve been with where I was terrified that they were going to snap in half? I felt like I needed to force feed some of them. You’ve got curves. Fuck… you’ve got curves. That dress you had on at my party? I thought I was going to lose my mind trying not to touch you.”

Felicity would have thought he was just saying that to help her feel less self conscious, but the way he grabs at her ass and grows harder against her tells her that he’s being completely honest.

He lowers his head to mouth at her breast as his hand finds its way between her legs. She widens her legs to give him easier access, but he purposefully avoids touching her where she wants him. Instead, he uses featherlight touches against the inside of her thighs and her hipbone. He traces around her entrance. He reaches back and grabs her ass. But he doesn’t touch her.

She whines, not caring about how needy she sounds or that she’s already gotten off twice tonight and shouldn’t be so desperate. She grows wetter and wetter and she starts to drip down her thighs. These sheets are definitely going to need to be washed… possibly trashed all together. There’s no way they haven’t stained them.

Oliver coats his fingers with her juices before raising them to his lips and licking his fingers, humming in delight.

“So good,” he says, licking his fingers repeatedly as her stomach boils with need. She wants that tongue on her again. She wants his fingers thrusting inside of her. She wants his dick filling her. She just wants something. Anything. She ruts against him, feeling his cock slide easily against her folds, making them both cry out in pleasure.

“Inside,” she says, reaching down to grab his dick and position it at her entrance. She’s about to lift her hips up so he can sink into her when she realizes she’s forgotten a pretty important step.

“Condom,” she says, pushing at his shoulder to get up, but he doesn’t move.

Instead, he reaches under the pillow and pulls out a foil wrapper. She looks at him in shock. He came prepared. When did he put that there? He really is a ninja. A magic sex ninja with the best ideas. Now he doesn’t have to get up.

“I told you, I had plans,” he says, handing her the condom. She lets go of his dick long enough to take the package and rip it open, then rolls it over him, enjoying the way he hisses at her touch.

Felicity repositions him so he’s at her opening again, but he pulls his hips away the moment she raises hers up.

“What?” she asks, curious why he isn’t already deep inside of her. She’s ready. She’s still stretched from before and his teasing has made sure she’s well lubricated.

“I told you we are going to do this slow,” he says. No. Commands. He commands and it’s sexy as hell.

It shouldn't be sexy. Her inner feminist should rebel against him telling her want to do, but why would she complain about something that has her this horny?

“Slow,” she says. “Yes.”

“Can I trust you not to rush?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

She shakes her head. “No rushing.”

“I will restrain you if I have to,” he says, his voice deep and gravely.

Yet another thing that shouldn’t be sexy at all and is. Fuck. Maybe Tommy was right. Maybe she does have a handcuff fetish.

“No rushing,” she says, tugging on his cock so that he’ll just push into her already. “Promise.”

Oliver slowly thrusts into her, and this time she’s much more prepared for his length. She doesn’t need any time to adjust to him at all. When he’s fully seated inside of her, she moves her hips to encourage him to start thrusting. He does.

He’d said he wanted to go slow, but this is torturous. It’s a snail's pace as he pulls completely out of her again and pushes back in. As he thrusts into her slowly, his forehead rests against her own and he stares into her eyes with an intensity that leaves her breathless.

“You could go a little faster,” she suggests, her voice breathy and high. “I wouldn’t complain—”

He silences her with a kiss. His tongue moves at the same tantalizingly slow pace as his hips. At this rate, this is going to take years. Which is perhaps his goal. He’s dragging this out. Making it last. As if they couldn’t do this over and over again for the rest of their lives.

He’s hitting her just shy of her G-Spot and he knows it. He’s enjoying teasing her. It’s cruel.

She pulls her lips off of him to complain. “Oliver…”

“Shhh,” he says. “Patience.”

He kisses her again and this time, his hand makes its way to her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers before switching to the other breast. Fire shoots through her body, but none of it is enough. It’s too little, too slow, she’s never going to get off this way.

“You’re being mean,” she whines.

He ignores her, instead, moving his lips to suck on her ear. She wraps her legs around him and tries to get him to speed up, just a little bit, but his hands reach around to remove them, slapping her thighs lightly as punishment.

“Oliver…”

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his breath hot against her ear.

“Yes,” she answers instantly, not needing to think about it. She trusts Oliver with everything. She always has.

Her immediate response has him whimpering and kissing at her neck sloppily.

“Oliver?” Felicity doesn’t know what she said, but the way his hands wrap around her and pull her close, pausing inside of her, she knows it had to be important.

“Stop rushing,” he says, his voice suspiciously wet. “Be in the moment.”

Right. Be in the moment, she thinks. Easy for him to say. His dick in probably in heaven right now, deep inside of her. She’s never going to be able to get off like this. But she trusts him, and if this is how he wants her, she’ll give it to him. She’ll give him anything he wants.

It's why she only lets out a small noise of protest when he pulls out completely and grabs at her ass again to roll her onto her stomach.

“What are you doing?” she complains

He doesn’t answer. He drapes himself over her, brushing her hair off her neck before dropping kisses on the newly uncovered skin.

“You’re beautiful, Felicity,” he says right next to her ear. He sucks on her piercing for a moment before licking down to her neck, going for his favorite spot. The spot he used to always nuzzle into whenever they hugged that would make her laugh.

Fuck does it feel anything close to funny now. No. His tongue against that spot is so much better.

“More,” she says, trying to reach around for his dick, but he stays out of reach and pushes her hand away.

He places several soft kisses to her neck.

“You are so perfect,” he says before opening his mouth to suck on the skin there, causing her to brush back against him. His erection presses into her ass and his teeth bite down on her as his grip on her hips tightens hard enough to leave bruises. She wants more. She does it again, earning her a playful smack to the ass.

“You’re distracting me,” he grumbles. “Stop.”

“Make me,” she says, looking back at him over her shoulder. He meets her in tender kiss that she tries to turn dirty but he won’t let her.

He resumes kissing the back of her neck, each of her shoulder blades, behind her ear, everywhere his mouth can reach. His arms cover hers and push her into the bed as he buries himself deep inside of her and finally — oh dear God, finally — thrusts in deep enough to hit her in the spot that makes her toes curl.

“Yes,” she says, moving her hips to meet his.

The comforter bunches up under her and like a miraculous twist of fate begins rubbing at her clit, and thank god, because if Oliver had his way she wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near this level of pleasure. She purposefully rubs herself against the mattress as she continues to meet his every thrust, moaning at the dual stimulation.

“So smart,” he licks up her spine and kisses the back of her neck again.

“Love you so much,” he says, grasping onto her hands and entwining their fingers.

“Love your skin, so soft,” he says, sucking a mark into her shoulder.

“Love your smile,” he says. “Your laugh.”

“Yes,” she cries out. “There. Harder. Please. Yes.”

“Love your mouth.” He catches her in a kiss that is incredibly sweet and tender, and in no way matches the way his hips have finally started pounding into her.

“Yes! Thank you! Love you! Fuck!” she cries out, feeling her orgasm building. “Harder!”

“Your dirty mouth,” he says. “I swear to god every time you make one of your innuendos, I have to jerk off.”

“Oliver!”

Between the words he’s saying into her ear, the way he’s hitting her in just the right spot, his weight over her, pinning her to the bed, the comforter continuing to rub her… It’s perfect. Her stomach tenses and she starts breathing so quickly she’s seeing spots.

Then, just like that, he pulls out of her and turns her over, sitting back on his heels to watch her.

“No,” she whines, reaching out for him with grabby hands, but he doesn’t come to her.

God. She knows Oliver has the ability to be an asshole, but why would he stop when she was so close?

“Come back,” she says, rubbing her thighs together in an effort to chase the orgasm he interrupted.

“I love those tight black pants you used to wear,” he says, running his hands up and down her shins, giving her goosebumps. “They hugged your ass in the most delicious way. And now you wear those short dresses that are designed to drive me insane.”

“You’re driving me insane,” she cries out, but he ignores her. “Oliver, please.”

When he makes no move, she takes matters into her own hands and reaches down to start rubbing at herself.

“Fucking hell—” He makes a choking sound and grabs her wrist, pulling it away from her body as he glares at her. “It’s like you were designed to torture me.”

Her torture him. That’s rich when he’s the one intent on making her suffer for no good reason.

He pulls each of her fingers into his mouth, one by one, moaning at the taste of her, making her cry with want. He then places both of her hands at the headboard.

“Hold on,” he instructs her.

She’s known Oliver a long time. She knows how to argue with him and get her way. She knows how to push his buttons. She knows how to bend his will of steel. But she also knows that there is no talking to him when he’s got that one specific look in his eyes, and he’s got it right now. Oliver may tease her for the rest of the night, but he’ll never do anything that truly makes her uncomfortable. She trusts him, so she complies, taking hold of the headboard.

“Don’t let go.” His voice is deadly serious. She nods to let him know she understands the rules he’s just put into place.

And fuck, does it turn her on. If it’s not her turn to touch, that means it’s Oliver’s. Having all of that hyper focus on her is promising and has her thighs pressing together to try and relieve some of the pressure that’s building.

He places open mouth kisses to each of her wrists.

“I love these hands,” he says. “Love feeling your fingers in my hair… Your hands at the back of my neck… Your arms around me…”

His lips move to kiss at her ear, then her cheek, and finally her lips. He takes his time exploring her mouth like it’s the first time he’s tasted her, even though by now they had to have kissed hundreds of times tonight. She squeezes her thighs together, needing to find some release. He notices though, and pushes her legs apart. She sighs in relief. Him against her is a much better plan, except he doesn’t lay against her. He keeps his body just out her reach, which has to be hell on his muscles, but he’s barely reacting.

The benefits of having sex with a ninja, she assumes.

Although, she actually wouldn’t call this a benefit. Nor is ninja the right word for his Herculean body. Gladiator? She’ll go with gladiator.

The thought alone of Oliver in one of those little outfits has her biting her lips against a groan.

His lips move to her neck, her chest, her breasts…

“I saw you once,” he says, licking at the valley between her breasts. “On the island. I was…”

He pauses his actions and she tries to focus on his words. He was what?

“Oliver?”

“You told me to come home,” he says. “So I did.”

She can’t help the tears that come to her eyes, trying to figure out what would have Oliver hallucinating her. Normally, she would say drugs. After all, Tommy hallucinated Oliver all the time while high. But she doubts he would be hesitant to tell her he was high, so that only leaves one other option. Pain.

People in extreme pain hallucinate.

“Love you,” she says again, feeling like she can never say it enough after everything he’s been through. He kisses her, pouring all of his love into the kiss until she feels it in her toes.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she whispers the words against his lips.

“Thank you,” he says. When her hands reach out to cradle his face, it’s wet. He’s crying, but then again, so is she.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she says, pulling him in for a tight hug. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he says, holding her tight. “Thank you for not running away from me.”

“Never,” she says, rubbing his back as he takes another shuddering breath before pulling away to look at her with a smile on his face. “I thought I told you not to let go.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” she says with a shrug, wiping his tears away before putting her hands back on the headboard. “You may proceed.”

Oliver laughs at that and the sound makes her heart melt. “Yes ma’am.”

He licks around her nipple before bringing it into his mouth, causing her to moan. Instantly, the mood is back.

“Please,” she whispers. She digs her heels into the mattress and lifts her hips up until they press against him, making him lose his precious control and he falls against her.

“Felicity,” he growls, glaring at her playfully. “You aren’t playing fair.”

“Fair?” she scoffs. “You won’t let me touch. I want you.”

“You have me,” he says, kissing a path down her stomach as he scoots down the bed.

“You have me,” he whispers again into her skin as he places open mouth kisses against her inner thighs.

“Oh God,” she shudders. He’s going to use his tongue again. “Please.”

She bites her lower lip in anticipation. She wants to reach out to touch. To hold his head in place. To pull at his hair… But he gave her instructions not to touch and she has a feeling he’ll prolong her torture if she does.

No… not torture. That’s not the right word. She thinks about Oliver’s scars and the people that have hurt him. They’d tortured him. This isn’t that. This is just… worship. Oliver is worshiping her body, and no matter how long he makes her wait before she comes, she’ll take it happily.

His fingers trace around her entrance as he sucks a mark into her hip bone.

“Oliver…” She trembles. She feels desperate for his touch, which is something she doesn’t often experience. “Now,” she says, hating how her voice comes out so needy.

“Shhh,” he whispers, lifting her leg so it’s over his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

She shakes her head. It’s not okay. He’s so close to where she wants him — needs him — and he won’t give it to her.

She whimpers and finally he takes pity on her. He licks at her entrance, causing her grip on the headboard to tighten as her head falls back in pleasure. His hands reach out to spread her open and he mouths at her.

“Yes,” she pants, her breathing increasing. “There… Please…”

“So gorgeous like this,” he says, pushing a finger into her. “So wet, just for me.”

“Yours,” she says, using her leverage from the headboard to grind against his hand.

“Mine,” he says the word like it’s something precious that can be broken and needs to be cared for lightly.

He removes his finger and replaces it with his tongue, licking at her walls as he begins to trace around her clit.

“Fuck,” she cries out. His mouth is warm and wet. His tongue thrusts into her, and it’s so good, but it’s not enough. “More,” she says. She needs him deeper. He removes his tongue and replaces it with his fingers, thrusting two into her this time as he mouths at her clit, and that’s exactly what she needed.

“Yes…” she pants. “There. Yes. More. Harder.”

She closes her eyes and focuses only on the pleasure he’s bringing her. He was made to do this. If it weren’t illegal, and she wasn’t so unwilling to share him, she’d tell him to do this professionally. He’d make bank. She’d certainly empty out her account in order to have his mouth on her everyday.

Thankfully, he doesn’t need the money and she can have him now, whenever she wants him. He’s not going anywhere. It’s the two of them, together from now on.

That thought sends a warm thrill through her that only intensifies the pleasure he’s currently bringing her.

She pushes against his hand, trying to make him move faster as her stomach starts to tighten and her breathing increases. Her orgasm is right there beneath the surface and she won’t need much more before she —

“No!” she cries out when he pulls away from her again and sits back on his knees, impossibly far away.

“I don’t like this game,” she grumbles, which only makes him laugh. She tries to kick him and his smug smile, but he grabs her ankle and stops her, placing a kiss to her shin.

“Trust me, you will,” he promises. Oliver’s never been one to break promises before. At least, he never breaks his promises to her, not if he can help it.

“You’re being mean,” she says, sitting up in bed, whining at how the sheet moves against her. She’s trembling with need and her skin feels like it’s on fire.

“You’ll thank me for it later,” he says, pulling her into his lap so her back is to him. He moves her hair over her shoulder and kisses her neck. She thinks this may be his new favorite spot. He’s kissed her there numerous times tonight.

She knows he’s probably right, but at the moment, with the way her body is crying out to be touched, she has a hard time believing it.

His hands reach around her and begin massaging her breasts.

“Do you remember when I came to visit the summer after freshman year?” he asks, nuzzling into her neck.

“Mmm,” she hums her answer and pushes back against him, causing him to hiss.

“Not yet,” he says with a kiss to her neck before he resumes nuzzling into her. He’s smelling her neck, but she can’t imagine by this point any of her perfume is left. She probably smells like pure sex.

“I came to visit and your mom took us to the water park,” he says.

“She saved up all summer for that,” Felicity says.

His hand starts a tediously slow trail down her stomach. “I told her that you could pay for your own ticket, but she—” Felicity sucks in a sharp breath as his fingers reach her clit and begin rubbing. “Oh god. Yes.”

“You had that purple bikini,” he says, placing a kiss to the top of her spine. “It was the first time I’d seen you in anything like that before. You always wore those one pieces back in middle school…”

“My mom — ah, yes, there — my mom bought it for me,” she says. “Didn’t have the heart to… to tell her… no,” she explains, doing her best to form full sentences, but it’s growing hard. She was already so worked up before. Now that he’s touching her again, she can feel her orgasm right there, just out of reach.

“Puberty had hit that year,” Oliver says. “And pictures didn’t do you justice…”

He pauses long enough to take her hand and guide it to her entrance. “Want to watch,” he says.

She’s too fargone to be embarrassed by this point. She starts rubbing at herself fast, then slow, using the pace that always brings her to the edge. She can feel Oliver studying her movements, memorizing what she likes.

“You had curves for days,” he says. “Still do.”

She works herself over, pushing three fingers inside of herself and using her thumb to rub at her clit. Her other hand is digging her nails into Oliver’s thigh as she rides herself.

“That’s it. Right there. So sexy. Show me how you like it,” he whispers encouragements into her ear that just make her more worked up.

The pressure starts building and her stomach grows tighter. She lets go of his thigh to reach around her and pull on his neck, turning her head and guiding his mouth to hers. She kisses him hard and desperate as her thighs start to tremble with need. She’s so close. She can feel her walls clenching around her. Then—

“God damnit,” she cries out as Oliver pulls her hand away from herself. “I’m going… to… kill you…” she says, trying to catch her breath.

“Breathe,” he instructs her.

“You breathe,” she grumbles, grinding down on his thigh until his hands reach out to still her hips. He is such a fucking asshole. She feels like she’s going crazy. If she doesn’t come soon, she’s going to have some kind of permanent damage, she can feel it. She’s not sure it’s possible, but she’ll be the first. Oliver will make her the first person to literally die from withholding sex.

“In, two three... Out, two three,” he says gently, moving her hands to her stomach so she can focus on her breathing. As if that’s going to do anything. She’s always hated yoga.

“Breathe with me,” he says, kissing behind her neck. “In, two three... Out, two three.”

“I hate you,” she says as her breathing starts to slow, but the pressure between her legs doesn’t diminish at all. “I’m never having sex with you again.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asks, pushing his erection against her ass, causing them both to groan.

“Don’t you want to take care of that?” she asks, looking at him innocently over her shoulder. He smirks at her.

“I’ll take care of it soon enough.”

She throws her head back against his shoulder and nearly cries.

He guides her until she’s laying back down on the bed and her hands are on the headboard again. He then fingers her again. Her hand reaches out to touch, but he places it back on the headboard, warning her not to touch him if she wants him to keep going. She bites her lip. She never pictured Oliver to be so controlling in bed. He was always happy to let everyone do everything for him before the Gambit went down, so she assumed that went for his sexual activities as well. But he’s rather bossy. It would be entertaining if it wasn’t so obnoxious.

“Oliver please,” she cries when he pulls away from her just as she’s about to come. Again. “How much longer?” she asks. And there are actual tears in her eyes. She’s never been so desperate to get off that she’s cried before, but here they are.

He rolls them over so that she’s straddling him and smiles up at her. “You can touch,” he instructs.

She lets go of the headboard and reaches out to run her hands up and down his chest. He grabs onto her hips and guides her until she can feel his dick pressing against her entrance.

“Please,” she says, needing to feel him inside of her. Her legs are already trembling.

“Ride me,” he says, his voice sounding like he’s swallowed gravel. It’s sexy as hell.

She sinks down onto him and they both let out a sigh of relief, but that doesn't last long. Her body is so impatient with need that she can’t do this slow or sweet, or any of the other wonderful things he’d asked her for. He braces his heels on the bed and she leans back against his knees and starts grinding down on him.

“So beautiful,” he says, reaching out for her hands and entwining their fingers. She squeezes him tight as she rides him, chasing that orgasm that he wouldn’t let her have.

“Don’t stop,” she cries, tears streaming down her face at how much she needs to come.

“No stopping,” he says, shushing her, rubbing the back of her hands with his thumb. His actions are much more relaxed and gentle than her own. She grinds down on him hard, making him hit that spot that has her seeing stars. She’s so close. She’s almost there.

He sits up in bed and for a second, she’s positive she’s about to make her stop and she’s going to have to use her loud voice, but he just adjusts their angle. He lets go of her hands and wraps his arms around her so that they are close enough to kiss. His forehead rests against hers as he says, “Let go.”

She can feel his hot breath against her ear. He may look calm and collected, but she can tell by his heavy breathing and tense muscles that it’s taking everything in him not to come with her.

“Come for me,” he says, reaching around to rub at her clit. And that’s all it takes.

She arches her back and starts coming, hard. She comes for what has to be several minutes as wave after wave hit her with barely a break in between. He’s still rubbing at her clit and she wants to push him away, but she can’t move. Eventually, she collapses against him and he rolls them over until she’s on her back.

He continues to thrust into her, even though she’s basically useless at this point. She’s a giant pile of goo. She feels like she might disappear into the mattress. He’s breathing heavily and looks like he’s attempting to say something, but has lost the ability to speak. She knows the feeling. That orgasm was something else entirely. She didn’t know it was possible to orgasm that long, but then again, she’s never been brought to the edge that many times and denied what she wanted most.

He grits his teeth as he pounds into her, hard and deep. His hips lose their rhythm. He’s close. The sounds he is making are animalistic. It’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She wants to tell him to let go, but she can’t form words. So she reaches her arms around him and rubs his back, silently giving him permission to let go.

His hand reaches down to rub at her clit and she starts crying. It’s too much. She can’t come again. She’s too sensitive, but his finger keeps rubbing at her and his mouth latches onto her neck and soon, they are both riding the wave of another orgasm.

“Fuck,” she mumbles as he lays on top of her, catching his breath.

“No, not again,” he pleads.

She can’t help but laugh at that. He brought this on herself. But no. He’s right. Not again.

She’s broken. She can’t move. She can’t feel her legs. She’s so sensitive she could cry. She actually did cry. But god, had it been glorious. She didn’t know it was even possible. Sure, Tommy had told her that he’d made a girl come for 15 minutes back in college, but she had assumed that was either his ego exaggerating or the girl faking it. Clearly Tommy and Oliver went to some special sex school to learn how to pleasure women because holy hell… that was something else.

She may never move again.

Oliver pulls out of her slowly, making them both groan.

“No,” she grumbles, reaching out for him.

He smiles down at her, removing his condom gently and tying it off before tossing it into the trash. He then lays back down on top of her. She hums her satisfaction and wraps her arm around him.

“That was…” she searches for the right word to describe what just happened, and all she can think of is the word flying. She felt like she was flying as her orgasm hit her. Or like she was floating. “Magical.”

Oliver kisses her chest, right over her heart which is still pounding as she struggles to come down.

“Pretty sure that’s not what Tommy meant when he said I was smoked,” Oliver says. “But that’s all I can think of. Smoaked.”

“My toes are numb,” she says. She attempts to wiggle them, but it sends a shooting pain up her leg as if they were asleep.

He goes to roll off of her and she whines. “No. Warm.”

He pulls her into him until her head is against his shoulder and reaches down to pull the blanket over them both.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too.”

He kisses the top of her head and closes her eyes, settling in to sleep. She glances over his shoulder at the nightstand, shocked to see that it’s nearly 5am. They’ve been having sex all night long. She has to be at work in four hours. How on Earth is she supposed to be able to move?

She’s going to need a shower and a change of clothes. She’ll need to brush her teeth and do something with her hair. She’ll need food. All kinds of things that require her to move. Fuck. She thinks she may have permanently melted into the mattress.

“Go to sleep,” he grumbles, pulling her closer to him.

“I have to leave soon,” she explains. “I have work,”

Oliver rolls them over so that he’s on top of her, trapping her under his weight. “No work. Sleep.”

Felicity can’t help but giggle at that. He sounds just like he used to whenever she would try to get him up early on a Sunday morning for some of Raisa’s chocolate chip pancakes.

“Sleep,” he says again, nuzzling his cheek into her chest. “You’ve got time before you have to go.”

“It’s already 5,” she tells him, wishing she could stay. They deserve a chance to wake up in each other’s arms.

“Shit,” he grumbles, looking up to double check the clock himself. “Do you need a ride home?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “You drove my car here, remember?”

He nods his head, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can look at her properly. He runs his hand over her head, smoothing out her hair and tucking it behind her ear before cradling her face.

“That was the single greatest moment of my life,” he says.

Usually, she would tease him for over exaggerating, but he’s right. Tonight was the happiest she can ever remember being.

She smiles at him before sitting up on her elbows to meet him halfway for a kiss. Their mouths move together as their tongues explore, but the second he rolls on top of her and brushes against her center, they both separate with a hiss.

“Sorry,” he says, reaching out to twist a curl between his fingers.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to have sex again,” she says. “Every part of me still feels like a frayed wire.”

“Was it…” Oliver pauses and looks down at her body. She doesn’t know what he’s looking for, though. “Was it good?” he asks, sounding like he’s back in middle school again rather than a fully grown man with years of sexual experience.

“Life changing,” she says, reaching out to put her finger under his chin so he’s looking at her. “You were right. Beds are amazing.”

He laughs and she can feel it through every inch of her body. She closes her eyes as he brushes against her again and does her best not to cry. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s just too much.

“I know I should move, but I can’t,” Oliver says. “That was… God. I love you so much.”

“I bet you do,” she says with a laugh. Who else would let him tease her like that? “I hope you know I hate you.”

“You don’t,” he says, kissing her chest and resting his ear against her heart.

“Not even a little bit,” she agrees with a content sigh, wishing she didn’t have to ever leave.

Oliver’s a billionaire. She could just quit and they could spend the rest of their lives in this bed.

“I told you…” he says. “Be in the moment.”

“Yes… yes,” she says. “This is why I need you.”

“For the orgasms?” he teases.

“Yes. That’s the only reason,” she says.

“I’ll gladly be your sex slave,” he says, and though she knows it’s a joke, he says it so seriously. She gets a mental picture of Oliver in handcuffs and a loin cloth and it sends a twinge to her center.

“No more sex,” she whines as her walls clench painfully. “You broke me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, sounding a million miles away. His breathing evens out and she notices that he’s fallen asleep on top of her. She doesn’t have the heart to move him when he’s smiling and looking so content.

She kisses the top of his head and rubs his back, closing her own eyes. Just for a minute. After all, she really doesn’t have to leave for another hour.

****

Felicity wakes up to the sound of her phone going off and she groans.

“What time is it?” she asks, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Ignore it,” he says, tugging on her wrist to try and get her to lay back down.

“It’s Tommy,” she says, recognizing the ringtone. He’d programmed her phone a few weeks ago so that it would play “Sexy and I Know It” whenever he called and she hasn’t changed it, even though it mortifies her when it goes off in public.

“What is that?” Oliver grumbles, making a face that’s part annoyed, part disgusted.

“You can thank Tommy for that,” she says, rolling out of bed, causing him to complain loudly.

She takes tentative steps towards the couch, definitely feeling the effects of their sex marathon. She hopes she’s not walking around bow legged all day. That would be rather difficult to explain. Especially since her office is mostly all men who already have a bad habit of making sexual jokes about her when they think she can’t hear them.

“If I don’t answer it, he’ll think I’m lying in a ditch somewhere. Then we’ll have the entire SCPD out looking for me,” she says, grabbing her purse off of his couch and digging around for her phone. “Just let me tell him I’m alive and to fuck off.”

When she locates her phone, she’s horrified to see that it’s already 8:15. She has to be at work in 45 minutes. Fuck!

“Hello?” she answers the phone, frantically looking around the room for all of her clothes.

“Where are you?” Tommy asks, sounding like he can’t decide if he’s pissed or worried. “You never came home.”

She understands his panic. It’s not like her to spend the night away from the house. She never does it without calling him first. And with everything they went through when Oliver disappeared, it’s only natural he’d be concerned.

“I’m fine, Tommy,” she reassures him as she locates her underwear and puts it on.

“What are you doing?” Oliver complains.

“Is that Oliver?” Tommy asks, his voice going from worried to amused in seconds.

“Thank you for calling to check on me, but I’m fine,” she says to him, avoiding the question as Oliver gets out of bed and tries to stop her from putting her bra back on.

“I bet you’re fine,” he says with a laugh. “I want details when you get home.”

“Goodbye,” she says, hanging up on him as Oliver pulls her bra out of her hands and holds it over his head.

“Oliver, I need that,” she says, putting her hands on her hips. She doesn’t have time for games. She’s going to be late for their weekly all-department meeting with Mr. Merlyn.

“You’re getting dressed,” he says with a frown.

“I’m going to be late for work,” she says, jumping up to try and grab the bra out of his hands. “What are we? 12? Can I please have my bra back?”

Oliver wraps his arms around her and pulls her in for a kiss while she protests about how much trouble she’ll be in if he makes her late. When he pulls away, he hands her back her bra.

“You are so gorgeous,” he says, taking a seat on the couch as she pulls the bra over her head. She looks down at herself and blushes, realizing that she had been standing here, talking on the phone without a stitch of clothing on. She looks at Oliver, and he’s hard.

“No,” she says, holding her hand out to keep him away. “No more sex. You broke me.”

“Do you know how many times we’ve woken up next to each other?” Oliver asks.

She shrugs, looking around the room for her sweatshirt and pants.

“You are so beautiful when you’re sleeping,” he says. “Sometimes I would just lay there and watch you; Pretend that you were mine.”

Felicity stops from where she’s picked up her pants and stares at him, completely lovestruck. “Now you don’t have to pretend,” she says, biting her lip to try and contain her smile.

“Yeah,” he sighs happily, as if that realization is just now hitting him.

They are together now. This is a thing. No more waiting. No more longing. No more misunderstandings. Just the two of them together.

“I need to go back home,” she says. “I don’t have any real clothes here.”

“We should rectify that,” he says.

She looks at him, shocked. Is he seriously about to have a drawer/closet space conversation with her when she’s already late for work? They haven’t even been together for 12 hours.

“I also need to shower,” she says choosing not to comment. That’s a conversation that will need a lot more time.

“Showers are good,” he says, standing up from the couch to walk over to her and grab her hand.

“No,” she shakes her head.

He just nods as he walks them towards the bathroom, and despite her protests, she follows him willingly.

“I really don’t have time for this,” she says. “I just got a new promotion and Tommy’s dad is going to be at my morning meeting.”

“I’m sure somewhere in this house are clothes that will fit you,” he says. “And think about how much quicker it will be if I’m helping you get washed up: Four hands have to be better than two.”

She glares at him playfully as he turns the shower on and pulls off her bra.

“Nothing Thea wears will fit over my thighs and it will be a cold day in hell when Moira lets me borrow her clothes,” she says, continuing to shake her head as Oliver pulls off her underwear.

“Let me worry about that,” he says as he grabs her hand and starts to pull her into the shower.

She knows that showering with him isn’t going to save her any time. If anything, it’s just going to make her even more late… but a wet Oliver is a delicious Oliver and she’s only human.

She can just blame Tommy for her being late. After all, there has to be some benefit to being best friends with boss’s son.

“I’m not wearing anything that one of your one-night stands wore,” she grumbles before letting out a sigh of relief as the hot water hits her sore muscles.

She’s always wanted to shower in his bathroom. He has one of those giant walk-in showers with two different shower heads and wall fixtures that are clearly built for two people. Why his parents found this an appropriate bathroom to build him back when they were in second grade and the Queens bought and renovated this place, she doesn’t know. But god is she happy to take advantage of it now.

“Anything those girls would wear is sure as hell not appropriate for the office,” she says.

“Hey, the girls I dated were classy,” he says, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Sure,” she laughs.

He pours out some body wash onto a washcloth and that’s when she looks down and really sees her body for the first time this morning.

“Oh my god,” she says, noticing the fingerprints that are starting to bruise on her hips. She has hickeys on the top of her breasts and below her belly button. She moves her leg to see that there are two on her inner thigh. “Oliver,” she gasps, trying hard not to laugh. “What did you do?”

“I may have gotten a little overzealous,” he says, sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

“People are going to think I’m being abused,” she says with a smile, but his face grows serious.

“I would never hurt you,” he says, seriously.

“I know that,” she reassures him. “But damn. You really went to town.”

“You can cover it up,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “The only one that will be visible is the one on your neck but it’s not that dark. I’m sure some makeup will do the trick.”

Normally, she isn’t crazy about hickeys. They make her feel like a high schooler who’s just gotten off in the back seat of her boyfriend’s car. But Oliver is looking so embarrassed and she’d enjoyed earning every single one of these marks so much that she can’t be upset.

“Next time, it’s you that gets to walk around with my bite marks all over your body,” she says playfully, watching as his eyes grow dark.

“Deal,” he says, kneeling in front of her and reaching for her leg. She knows that look in his eyes and instantly regrets teasing him. She grabs his wrist before he can start moving the washcloth over her, lathering her up.

“We aren’t having sex in here,” she says seriously. “I’m too sore and we don’t have time.”

“Noted,” he says with that sexy smile of his that should be illegal. “No sex. I was just going to help you get washed up.”

“Mmhm.” She bets that was his plan.

“Can’t blame a guy for wanting to touch you as often as I can,” he says, rubbing the washcloth up her leg and gently washing the sex from between her thighs, careful not to press too hard against her still sensitive center.

“You touched me plenty last night,” she says, playfully kicking him as she traces over the bruises on her hips. Thankfully, they don’t hurt. “I can’t believe you made me wait that long.”

“It was worth it,” he says, kissing at the inside of her knee before standing up and turning her away from him so he can wash her back.

“Mmm,” she hums. That it was.

She closes her eyes as she tilts her head back to rise out her hair, enjoying the mix of the warm water and his soft hands on her. She could get used to this.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, moving her hair out of the way so he can kiss the back of her neck, which confirms it. He’s obsessed with kissing her there. She’s not complaining.

“I don’t know if I’ll be recovered by then,” she says, passing him the shampoo. If he’s going to stand there, he may as well make himself useful.

“I’ll be gentle,” he says, taking the shampoo from her and lathering up her hair.

She tries not to think about the whys. Like why he has shampoo and conditioner in here for girls. Or why she can see an extra box of pink razors in the caddy. Because everything in here is from 5 years ago and is completely irrelevant now.

“I’m surprised you stayed blonde,” he says, tilting her head back to help her rinse the shampoo out.

“I liked it,” she says. “Why? Do you miss the brown? Or the black?” she says with distaste. Looking back at her goth phase now just makes her cringe.

“I love it all,” he says, causing her to snort.

“You’ve already gotten into my pants. You don’t have to use anymore lines.”

“It’s not a line,” he says, reaching over her shoulder for the conditioner. “I don’t care what color your hair is, you’re beautiful regardless. I’m just surprised you wanted to be blonde. You always fought so hard not to be your mom.”

Felicity shrugs. She’d never admit this to anyone else, especially not her mother, but this is Oliver. She’s always told him everything without judgement.

“There’s nothing wrong with being my mom,” she says.

“Of course not,” he says, running the conditioner through her hair. “Your mom is awesome.”

Felicity nods. She does love her mom, even if she is a bit much at times. And their relationship has certainly gotten better over the last five years. Especially after her mom flew out and stayed with her the first month after the Gambit went down. Donna Smoak is a strong, confident, beautiful woman and Felicity is proud to be her daughter.

“I draw the line at mesh dresses and corset tops, though,” Felicity says, looking over her shoulder. “So don’t get any ideas.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says, taking the hair tie off of her wrist and pulling her hair up so that the conditioner can have time to soak in. “That dress you wore at my party is about all my heart could take.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have run off to play hero so you could have enjoyed it a little longer,” she says, leaning back against his chest as he begins washing her stomach, his hands moving up to wash her breasts, but he knows better than to spend too much time there. She feels a familiar twinge in her stomach, but she ignores it. She can’t possibly have sex again. She’s already running late.

Oliver hums in response, but doesn’t offer up any additional comments. Bringing up his extra curriculars seems to have brought down his mood. He still helps her wash up, but he’s not trying to make it sexual or tease her. He helps her wash the conditioner out of her hair and then hands her a towel, letting her know that she can start drying off, he’ll just be another minute.

She steps into the bathroom, wrapping the giant towel around herself. She moves to the sink and opens the drawer where she knows that Raisa always keeps extra toothbrushes. She brushes her teeth as Oliver finishes up in the shower, wondering why he has to be so secretive about what it is he does. She’d hoped that last night would be enough to get them over that hump, but it his silence doesn’t make that likely.

He steps out of the shower just as she’s dropping her toothbrush into the holder next to his. He smiles at the sight. She hadn’t even realized what she was doing, she’d just done it. The sight of her toothbrush next to his seems right though.

“Are you going to tell Tommy?” he asks, wrapping a towel around himself and grabbing his toothbrush off of the sink.

“About the amazing sex?” she asks, grabbing a blow dryer out from under the sink.

“Only if I want a high five and an ‘about time, Smoak,’” she says, hoping up to sit on the countertop. “Though I’m pretty sure he already knows. He heard you on the phone. He has to know I’m here.”

Oliver shakes his head. “No… Are you going to tell him… about me? About… everything?”

“Oh.”

Right, she thinks stupidly. Oliver’s biggest concern right now is keeping his secret. She fiddles with the blow dryer, feeling awkward all of a sudden.

“I hadn’t planned on it. It’s not my secret to tell.”

Oliver breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good.”

He smiles at that and kisses her quickly before stepping out of the bathroom.

“Oliver,” she calls after him and he sticks his head back in the door with his eyebrows raised in question. “You should tell him. Tommy doesn’t like liars.”

“I can’t.” He shakes his head.

“You could,” she says, disappointed. “You just don’t want to.”

“Tommy isn’t like you, Felicity,” he says, moving to lean against the doorway with his arms crossed. “To him, the world is black and white. He doesn’t operate in the grey. He’s not going to understand what I’m doing.”

“I don’t understand what you’re doing,” she says, setting the blow dryer down and jumping off the counter to go stand in front of him.

“I’m trying to save this city,” he says, vehemently.

“By killing people?” she asks, shaking her head.

There has to be a better way. He’s a billionaire. He could do so much more good away from the hood. He could feed the hungry. House the poor. Educate the children. He could do anything.

“There are people in this world that only operate in extremes. And if I want to stop them, I have to be willing to use extreme measures. Whatever the cost,” he says, as if he’s reading a script or something.

“Whatever the cost?” she asks, shaking her head. “What if that cost is your life?”

“Better mine than any of yours,” he says, dismissively. As if his life means nothing. As if she didn’t spent years crying over him. Like his entire family didn’t mourn his death.

“No,” she says. “Your life isn’t any less valuable than ours.”

“Agree to disagree,” he says, leaning over to kiss her before she can form another protest. He moves out of the bathroom towards his bed, but she follows after him.

“This isn’t something I’m going to drop,” she says.

“Of course not,” he says, picking up the phone by his bed. “Wouldn’t be you if you did.”

Enters a number on the phone and when the other line picks up he says, “I need an outfit for a women’s size…” his eyes trail over her, sizing her up. “Four?” he sends her a questioning look.

“Six,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her body self-consciously.

“Six,” he corrects. “Something appropriate for the office… Yes… Thank you.”

“Do I want to know who that was?” Felicity asks.

“One of the staff,” he says, moving into his huge walk in closet to get dressed.

“And you just happen to have clothes of all sizes lying around the house,” she asks in disbelief.

She knows the Queens are loaded, but sometimes she can’t believe the odd things that rich people buy. What purpose could there possibly be for keeping clothes around that won’t fit anyone that lives in the home?

This is like when she had to explain to Tommy that a two-thousand dollar bottle of tequila was a want not a need. Especially when the five dollar bottle gets the job done just as well. He claims he can taste the difference, but she’s poured the cheap stuff into the expensive bottle before and he most certainly cannot.

“You know my mom. She likes to be prepared for anything,” Oliver says, before his voice goes up an octave and switches into an impressive imitation of Moira. “It’s important to be a good host, Oliver. What would the neighbors think if they asked for merlot and we only had cabernet?”

He tosses his towel onto the floor, not bothering to hang it up as he pulls on a pair of boxers. She grabs the towel off the floor and tosses it into the laundry.

When he gives her an amused look, she says, “Just because you have staff to do everything for you, doesn’t mean you can’t make their job easier.”

“Fair enough,” he says, throwing a henley on, followed by a pair of jeans. She’s not going to lie, this is one of her favorite looks on him. She prefers him dressed down rather than in the old polos he used to wear. He looks much more him, not like he’s trying too hard.

“I’m sure this is not the situation Moira was imagining those clothes would be used for,” she says, giving him a pointed look.

When he doesn’t say anything, she gets the sinking suspicion that he’s done this before.

“This isn’t the first time,” she says, nodding her head, hating how anger starts to claw at her chest. There’s no reason for it.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Why?” she asks. “Why does your mom keep clothes for the women you sleep with?”

“She doesn’t keep them for the women I sleep with specifically,” he says, shifting nervously on his feet. “She keeps them for all of her guests… but I guess she got tired of girls doing a walk of shame out of here and ending up in the tabloids…”

Felicity glares at him. “So now I’m just another girl you’ve slept with that she has to clean up after? God forbid Felicity Smoak ruin the family name?”

“It’s not like that,” he says, making her scoff. “It’s not like that with you,” he quickly clarifies.

There’s a knock at the door and Oliver goes to answer it while Felicity hides in the bathroom. She’s never going to be able to look any of the staff in the eyes if they see her in Oliver’s room wearing only a towel after they’ve just delivered her clothes.

Why hadn’t she stopped to get dressed before leaving her apartment last night. Sure, she would have been stuck wearing clothes from the day before, but it would have been better than this.

Oliver steps into the bathroom and hands her an — she hates to admit it — incredibly cute dress that she could never afford.

“These are your skank clothes,” she says, with a tearful laugh, trying to sound unaffected but failing. She’s still angry and she can’t help it.

She grabs the hanger out of his hands and removing the plastic cover left on it to keep the dust from destroying the clothes. “I’m one of your skanks.”

That wasn’t exactly fair. She knows that none of the women who slept with Oliver are skanks. She hates that word. Women are allowed to be sexually promiscuous without another woman attacking them for it. She knows this. She firmly believes this. She’s just feeling insecure all of a sudden at the realization that she’s just another woman in an impressively long line of women to sleep with Oliver. What makes her different? What’s going to make them last when he’s never been able to make it last with anyone, including Laurel, who he claimed to love?

She sets the dress down on the counter and angrily wipes at her eyes, annoyed that she hadn’t been able to stop herself from getting worked up in front of him.

“Felicity,” he says softly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms until she calms down.

“You’re not one of those girls,” he says adamantly, lowering himself so that he’s at eye level with her.

“Do you know how ridiculous it is that your mom keeps clothes around the house for the women you sleep with?” she grumbles.

“She also keeps clothes around for guests. For if they spill something or have a wardrobe malfunction or whatever else causes women to feel the need to change clothes immediately,” he says.

She huffs out a sigh, realizing that she’s just thrown a minor temper tantrum and though she feels validated in her anger, it probably wasn’t the most mature way to handle things.

“I’m not the kind of girl who needs to be cleaned up after,” she says, uncrossing her arms and standing up straight.

“You’re not,” he agrees.

“I’m bringing an overnight bag next time,” she says, pointedly. She doesn’t know why it matters so much, but to her it does. Bringing a bag to stay over. Having her own toothpaste, her own shampoo, and her own clothes make her feel more legitimate somehow. Like she’s not some afterthought that he’s using to pass the time.

“Please do,” he says with a smile. “I’d like that very much.”

She nods and takes the towel off, pointedly hanging it up on the hook behind the door. She takes the tags off the clothes, feeling much better about the fact that the dress and underwear are brand new. At least she’s not walking out of here wearing anything that another one of his women has worn before. She steps into the dress and turns around so that he can do up the top button and zipper.

He does, and when he finishes, he places a kiss to the back of her neck, making her smile. This is going to become a thing of his, she can already tell.

She glances in the mirror quickly to make sure that she looks alright. Thankfully, the high neck of the sleeveless dress covers up any marks Oliver left on her. She’ll have to throw some makeup on in the car, but otherwise, she doesn’t look half bad. She’d been worried she’d look like a zombie after not sleeping and that everyone at the office would know she’d just spent the entire night having a sex marathon with her best friend.

“Oliver?” she asks, turning around to face him, biting her lip, deciding to ask him the question that’s been eating away at her for years. Ever since he left her that phone call before getting on the Gambit.

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why what?” he asks.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asks.

She doesn’t have to explain herself. He understands what she’s asking right away.

“Because I was terrified of what your answer would be,” he says, reaching out to hold onto both of her hands.

“You thought I’d reject you,” she says with a nod. It was the same fear she’d always had.

He shakes his head. “No. Just the opposite. Around high school, I started noticing the way you would look at me sometimes. I knew I could get you to agree to date me. I was worried about what came after.”

“You were afraid of commitment,” she says. It makes sense. He never was able to stick with one girl for long before cheating on her.

He shakes his head again. “I was afraid you’d date me for awhile and realize that I wasn’t what you wanted. That I wouldn’t be able to give you want you needed. Then we’d break up and you’d never talk to me again. I couldn’t lose you. As much as I wanted you to be mine, I needed you to be my friend even more.”

“Oh,” she says, surprised by his response.

“Yeah.”

She squeezes his hands in comfort, and he gives her a sad smile.

“So you slept with god knows how many women instead,” she says. They lost so much time. They let their insecurities get in the way and the result was years of time together gone.

“I’m sorry.” He looks up from where he’s been staring at their hands to meet her eyes.

“It’s okay,” she says with a sad smile. “I don’t know why I’m upset. I knew you slept around and it never bothered me before.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Because it bothers me to know that you’ve been with other men. The fact that Tommy put condoms in your purse? That bothers me,” he says.

She snorts. She’d gotten that memo. She’d gotten that memo all the way back in seventh grade with Alex Holder, but she’d just misunderstood why it bothered him so much.

Oliver shuffles closer to her so that they are almost chest to chest, then he says, “I think maybe it always did bother you but you convinced yourself that it didn’t.”

Damn him. He always knows her so well, and she has to admit, he’s probably right. After all, why else would she criticize every women Oliver brought home when she barely batted an eye at the ones Tommy did. It’s not like they weren’t sleeping with the same kind of women. And Felicity makes it a point to never criticize other women. It goes against her feminist nature, but somehow, with Oliver, she never liked the women he was with.

“Felicity?”

“Yeah?”

“There won’t be any more women,” he promises.

She nods, wanting to believe him. He sounds so sincere, but she also knows his track record. She knows how many times he made that exact same promise to Laurel. What’s so special about her? What is it about her that’s going to solve his fear of commitment? She’s not naive enough to think that she can magically be the one girl that can fix Oliver. That’s the trap she’s watched too many friends fall into and get hurt over.

“I know that I don’t have a good track record with monogamy,” he says, and she nods in agreement. “I cheated a lot on Laurel and that has to make you nervous. But I swear to you that I would never cheat on you. You’re different.”

“How?” she asks, wanting to believe him.

“Because with Laurel, I never really loved her,” he says. “I’ve had a lot of time to… reflect on things on the island. With Laurel, I was just scared of being alone. We both were trying to make each other into somebody we weren’t and that was a lot of pressure. So I cheated on her. It was wrong. It’s one of my biggest regrets, but it happened. It won’t happen with you.”

“How can you be sure?”

Oliver pulls her into his arms and she presses her ear against his heart as he places a kiss to the top of her head.

“Because I don’t need to make you into anyone else,” he says quietly, like it’s a secret for the two of them to share. “I’ve been in love with you for over half my life. You’re exactly who I’ve always wanted. I already know you and you already know me. All of me. The good, the bad, and the… illegal. We aren’t going into this blind. This is what I want. You’re who I want.”

Felicity pulls away from him and smiles as he cradles her face with his hands.

“You, too,” she says, kissing the palm of his hand. He leans in and kisses her on the lips tenderly.

“Now I’m really going to be late for work,” she says when he pulls away, making him laugh.

“Call in sick,” he teases. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Felicity groans. She’s tempted. Seriously tempted, but she can’t. For one, she honestly thinks he’ll break her if they try to have sex again before her body has a chance to heal.

“I bet you would,” she says, stepping out of his arms and walking back into his room to grab her purse. Her hair is still wet, but she’ll throw it up in a ponytail when she gets to work.

He grabs onto her wrist and spins her around so that he can kiss her again.

“Oliver,” she protests.

“I love you,” he says, kissing he one last time before pulling away and holding her hand. “I’ll walk you out.”

She nods, thankful that he’s not going to pressure her to stay any longer, because she’s pretty sure one or two more times and she would have caved. And really, she has to be on her game at work now that she’s been promoted.

“Thank you for last night,” he says as they walk down the hall, hand in hand. “And this morning.”

She wants to tell him to be quiet. That she doesn’t want anyone to hear them and come out. But she doesn’t have the heart to tell him so when he’s being so sweet. She squeezes his hand.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she says quietly. “Last night was…”

She searches for the right word but can’t find one that accurately describes how perfect it was.

“It was,” he says, smiling down at her, taking the hand that he’s holding onto and placing a kiss to the back of it.

They walk down the stairs and Felicity holds her breath as they pass through the entryway, convinced that Moira is going to step out at any minute and notice them. She continues to glance over her shoulder as he walks her down the hall and towards the garage where he’d parked her car last night. But miraculously, nobody sees them. Not even any of the staff.

She breathes out a sigh of relief once they step into the garage and the door is closed behind them.

“This isn’t high school,” Oliver teases her. “You’re allowed to spend the night at a man’s house.”

“Yes, well if it was my mom we were going have to walk out past, I wouldn’t have cared,” she says. “But your mom hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Oliver says with a roll of his eyes.

She crosses her arms and stares him down until he caves. “Alright, fine. She’s not your biggest fan. But I don’t understand why.”

“Because I’m the reason you got on the Gambit,” she says, shaking her head as she pushes back the guilt.

“What? No you’re not,” he says, shocked.

Felicity grabs the keys off of the hook and walks towards her car, purposefully avoiding his eyes.

“I asked you to go on the Gambit with me, but I would have gone with or without you,” he says, grabbing onto her wrist to make her turn around. “And knowing what I know now, I’m so grateful you weren’t on there with me.”

“I was supposed to be a good influence on you,” she says, with a self-deprecating laugh, repeating the words Moira had told her all those years ago. “That’s what your dad always told your mom when she said we shouldn’t be friends. That I would keep you out of trouble.”

“You did,” he says.

Felicity shakes her head. “When you went to Harvard, your parents thought you’d finally stay in school because I was there to keep you on track. But I didn’t. You got kicked out.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he says.

“Your mom thinks it is.” She shrugs.

“She’s wrong. I got myself kicked out,” he says. “I made some bad decisions, but none of those are a reflection on you.”

“Maybe she’s right,” Felicity says, more to herself than him. She’s thought it before. “I was so involved with Cooper that I stopped contacting you. I stopped reaching out to see how you were. We didn’t talk for months. I had no idea what you were doing at school… or what you weren’t doing.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he says, growing upset. “And what the hell does me getting kicked out have to do with the Gambit anyway?”

“If you were in school, you would have been in Boston, and you wouldn’t have been available to go out on the Gambit with your dad,” she says.

“That’s a whole lot of ifs,” he says. “You have no idea if any of that is true. I still might have gotten on the Gambit. I was pretty stubborn.”

She gives him a sad smile and kisses him on the cheek before unlocking her car.

“I’m glad you’re home, Oliver,” she says.

“Felicity, please don’t blame yourself,” he says, putting his hand against her car door so that she can’t open it.

“Why not?” she asks. “Your mom blames me.”

“That’s because it’s easier to blame you than it is to blame herself. But it’s nobody’s fault. A storm hit. Nobody could have predicted that,” he says. “I’ve been on that boat hundreds of times with my dad and nothing ever happened. It was an accident. It’s nobody’s fault.”

“Okay,” she says, trying to accept his words as truth, but it’s hard. Especially now that she’s seen what his time away has done to him.

“I love you,” he says carefully, slowly, making sure each word sinks in. “I’m sorry that my mom doesn’t like you, but I love you. And I don’t blame you for what happened to me. And mine is the only opinion that matters.”

She laughs at that. That’s what she used to tell him when they were kids. When she would try and convince him to do something that their classmates didn’t want to, she’d tell him that her opinion was the only one that mattered, and he’d believe her. Every time.

“I love you, too,” she says, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. “I have to work late tonight. There’s a board meeting to approve my promotion and they want to meet with me. I’ll be back home after that.”

“You’re not going to come over tonight?” he asks, looking disappointed.

Felicity smiles, realizing what she'd done. She kisses him on the nose. “I just called you home, silly.”

Oliver beams at her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his forehead against hers. “This is home,” he agrees, giving her a tight squeeze.

“My Compass,” she says, bringing up the words he told her back in middle school. “My North Star. My home.”

She pauses between each, to give him a kiss.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” he says, helping her into her car.

“Always sounds pretty good to me, how about you?” she asks him with a smile.

“Always it is.”

That’s it. That’s the verse! Hope you enjoyed! 

Tagged/Untagged? Let me know!

@acheaptrickandacheesyoneline // @almondblossomme // @arrowandolicity // @bifelicitys // @bushlaboo // @canadianheartgirl // @cinfos // @dettiot // @dyedblondefelicity // @emisfritish // @emmaamelia95 // @eternal-olicity // @eunaosoumodelo // @evil-limace // @felicity-said–yes// @geniewithwifi // @goliverfelicity // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @hope-for-olicity // @it-was-a-red-heeler // @itsakatemus// @itsthatwallflower // @just-arrow // @karenanderson32 // @loveyoubeyondhope // @memcjo // @miriam1779 // @missyriver // @morganashimi83 // @mtb1002 // @olicitylovemaking // @oliverfel4 // @pleasantfanandstudent // @pottercastleminds // @puddintan3 // @realityisoverrated-fic​ // @relativelyobsessedfangirl // @scu11y22 // @somewhatinvisible // @sonrisaentejas // @sovvannight // @spaztronautwriter // @speakandseethetruth // @sweetdawn129// @sweettooth5 // @tennesseeyouaregoodtome// @wetsuiton

[workrockin]

Remembering the days we spent chasing congalala, understanding lifi and taking a look at Intel's AX200 wireless card

Summer is at its peak, Rain is around the corner. Soon the heavy clouds will leak, So says my trusty informer.

Between you and me as you might have perceived, but nevertheless I will come out and say it in clear terms, to remove any remaining doubt, that I’m no expert in wireless technology. The whole thing seems to me quite astonishing infact. There lies a box in the corner holding a wand. You (s)witch it on and it will send you data over the air. What sorcery is that?

However many people have pointed out to me that it is no magic. On the contrary it is a phenomenon that has been studied scientists,verified by engineers and regulated law makers. It is very much real. So I take their word for it and believe in it myself.

But technology changes so quickly. Just as we have broken the gigabit barrier in wifi a new invention has come up. LiFi or Light Fidelity a new form of communication that promises something even more incredible. To use visible light for wireless transmission. Our readers demand to know its status. We scramble for answers.

And before we could satisfactorily answer one query more questions are raised. It is in these trying times we come to accept our limitations. However we don’t let that stop us. After many hours of reading arcane specifications and trying to make sense of this rapidly progressing world of communication technology we present our thoughts to you on the matter, hoping that you’ll be so kind as to pardon the inconsistencies and factual errors that may have mistakenly crept in despite the most careful efforts of a tired staff.

What happened to LiFi technology?

Thank you for A2A. Light is an electromagnetic wave. It is already the most dominant form communication in both wireless and wired varieties. Fiber optic communication which powers today’s internet broadband service uses light. Wireless communication such as wifi [1] and Bluetooth use electromagnetic spectrum of light. TV remotes have used IR waves for switching channels.

So there is precedent in using light waves for communication in modern world.

LIFI intends to use visible light signals for wireless communication. Note the emphasis on visible light. We are not talking about radio waves here. We mean light we can see. Violet, Indigo, Blue, Green, Yellow,Orange and Red. Including UV and IR (IR as we have noted has already had a very successful implementation in remote controls for TV )

The idea is good. But the implementation is going to be tricky because of following reasons

Client support. Even if you build base stations for wireless visible light communication how are you going to get users to use them? Lot of work needs to be done in this area. There is however no reason that signals can’t be transformed from visible light to other already supported mediums like wifi to provide communication.

Visible light affects humans. So the intensity of light must be kept low. At lower intensities will the technology reduce to point to point communication? If so what happens to roaming devices? These are the questions I have not found answers to. Considering the negative press that 5G is getting for its millimeter wave , the use of UV in LIFI is going to be a PR nightmare. I can already hear cries from beauty experts on how LIFI is damaging their skin!

LIFI positions itself as a short range communication medium. That gives it protection against hackers. [2] At short range, lets say within room how can it be cheaper than a near free Ethernet cable that has universal support? Especially in the industrial application where LIFI aims to reduce electromagnetic interference. The easiest/cheapest way is to use wired communication. I might care about aesthetics in my hotel lobby. But in a workplace I want something reliable and well supported. If LIFI had increased distance transmission capacity say more than 70 M then it would have been a better substitute.

So to answer your question. LIFI is promising. But like every new invention LIFI needs to overcome technological, economical and marketing challenges. These things will take time. I’m sure that it will find a niche that will transform into a big industry. But its going to take time.

Talking about niches there’s one upcoming technology called optical computing [3](utilized in what is known as a photonic computer) that could replace electronic circuits. At the moment fiber optic cables are used to transmit light. In an optical computer therefore it would make sense that fiber optic cables would form the data transfer medium.

Here lifi technology could be utilized. In a controlled environment like inside of a CPU case you can benefit from all the positives of visible light communication while experiencing none of the negatives.

[1] Is LIFI a substitute for WIFI? https://www.quora.com/Is-LiFi-a-...

[2] “The light waves cannot penetrate walls which makes a much shorter range, though more secure from hacking, relative to Wi-Fi.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Li-Fi

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Optical_computing

What was your amazing experience with wireless technology?

It was raining outside. Power was out. We were supposed to be attending lecture. We skipped. I turned on my psp. My friend did the same. I had the black one. His was jet blue, slim.

We were going to hunt Congalala. He was a low level monster. An ape. Quick on his feet. Fond of fart bombing his enemies. Ice was his weakness. So we crafted out ice elemental weapons. Still he was too good for us.

We died often and when we didn’t we ran out of time. You must finish a quest within 50 minutes. Or else its game over. We were novice hunters in those days. Knew little about the habitat of the beast we were hunting. Even less about the mysterious jungle in which he dwelled.

We played and played until the battery ran out. But he got the best of us. We lost all our money. Our equipment was rendered useless. Our preparation futile. The beast won every time we attempted to take him down.

That was the start of an epic 700 hour long wireless multiplayer campaign. I haven’t felt the same way about any other game since. Even now a decade later sometimes I dream about Monster Hunter.

At that time psp was a very competent multiplayer device. A 32 bit arm 9 chip powered its 802.11b wifi. Upto 16 players could play simultaneously. But most games allowed only 4. Enabling a speed of upto 11 mbps back in 2005. It was unlike anything the world had seen before. A handheld [2]multiplayer gaming device that could stream!

Monster hunter was a sensational adhoc multiplayer success. Selling a combined total of 10M copies in japan alone.

That was 11 years ago. Multiplayer games these days need internet to work . If you don’t have a fast connection or if the server is taken down you’re out of luck. I do see a change around the corner. Game streaming is becoming more common now. We’ll need different kind of devices to [1] enable this kind of gaming. Those devices will most probably be wireless. That’s the amazing experience that I’ll be looking forward to.

[1] Return of wireless adhoc multiplayer. https://workrockin.quora.com/Ret...

[2] Nintendo Switch’s wireless capabilities look extremely promising for the future of gaming (https://workrockin.quora.com/The-wireless-features-of-Nintendo-switch)

How fast is Intel Wi-Fi 6 AX200 wireless network adapter card?

Thank you for A2A. The chip can do 2.4 gbps but only if you’re using 5ghz channel. Otherwise 573.6 mpbs on 2.4 ghz.

To calculate speeds look at the data rates table on wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/IE...

The max speed is in the lowest column (#11) on the table. As an example assume we want to calculate the max speed of 2.4 ghz.

2.4 ghz band can have a max width of 40 mhz. And according to the spec [1] we have 2 transmitters. So the max speed in 2.4 ghz band is

2*286.8 = 573.6 mbps

Similarly 5ghz band can have a max of

2 * 1.2 =2.4 gbps

Some more details on the AX200 hardware

intel launched AX200 wifi 6 chip [1] last month. It is competitively priced between $10-$17 [2] . Before we take a look at the hardware it would be good to start with a brief on wifi 6

Wifi 6 is is technically defined by 802.11ax standard. Although it works in both 2.4ghz and 5ghz bands the highest speed in 160 mhz channel is only attainable in 5ghz band. And since 5ghz has lesser range than 2.4 ghz it means that you can only enjoy the highest speed at lesser distances. [3]

Max speed on a single radio, widest (160 mhz) channel is 1.2 gbps.

Since the standard works in both 2.4 and 5ghz bands it is backwards compatible with all other wifi standards. Which means that all your wifi client devices will work with a wifi 6 access point whether they themselves support wifi 6 or not. [3]

With that out of the way lets see what chip has for us in terms of hardware

2 transmission and 2 receive radios. Which means that we get a max throughput of 1.2*2= 2.4 gbps (note the point #2 above)

Dual band support with max channel width of 160 MHZ.

Integrated support for bluetooth 5.

Not bad for its price I’d say [4].

[1] https://ark.intel.com/content/ww...

[2] When purchased in volumes of thousands. This price is only for device manufacturers. But this is also good news for consumers because they’ll be getting the latest networking technology at cheap prices.

[3] FCC has a test report for the chip in which they specify the supported modulation schemes (page 6). BPSK, QPSK, 16QAM, 64QAM, 256QAM. Which confirms the backwards compatibility with all wifi standards.

Note that the FCC document only measures up to 256-QAM. But intel’s product page indicates a max speed of 2.4 gbps which means that it should support 1024-QAM. I’m not sure why it is not covered in the fcc document.

https://fccid.io/PD9AX200D2L/RF-Exposure-Info/RF-Exposure-SAR-Report-4213237.pdf

[4] The actual performance that you’ll achieve will also depend upon the hardware of your system. The wireless card is mostly a peripheral and its optimal performance is contingent on the capabilities of host device.

Looking for someone to help you with your wifi problems? We ar ehere to help. Email us on

workrockin@gmail.com

write to us on our tumblr page

[https://workrockin.tumblr.com/ask]

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connect with us on linkedin

[https://www.linkedin.com/in/workrock-careers-21b3a2186/]

Happy networking!

Santiago,Chile

[c1qfxugcgy0]

I just bought an Intel Euclid dev kit, and it’s an interesting little board.

(Thumbnail censored for the sensitive.)

For $400 you get a lot of stuff. Look at this shit:

Intel® Atom™ x7-8700 Quad-Core processor

4GB memory, 32GB storage

Intel® RealSense™ ZR300 Depth Camera components

Wi-Fi® and Bluetooth® wireless communications

USB 3.0, Micro HDMI, and USB OTG/Charging ports

Environmental sensors including inertial measurement unit, barometric pressure sensor, GPS, and proximity sensor [!!]

Battery and Power Adapter (extra power adapter may be required)

It’s basically the sensor suite of a Turtlebot, but for a third of the price, and in a single box.

Its not without its quirks, of course. The wifi stack on my unit seems to be bizarrely flaky: it occasionally works, occasionally requires you to reboot it over and over before it’ll deign to send packets. Internally, it’s a full desktop Ubuntu computer-- doing any work with it requires plugging in a monitor+keyboard+mouse. Since it only has the one USB port, you’ll need a hub. Supposedly it runs a VNC server out of the box, but if you can’t connect to the damn thing over wifi, that doesn’t help much...

Mounting the thing is an adventure. Because the front surface is covered with cameras, you don’t want to ziptie it down to anything. The Euclid only has a single hard-mount: a 1/4-20 tripod thread insert... made of plastic! Quite annoying. There is a reason robotics components are covered in mounting holes.

There is the usual confusion with USB ports as seen in mobile robotics. Because the USB committee, 20 years ago, only ever anticipated that a single device would only be either a host or a client, it doesn’t deal well with devices that have both. (”Why would a mouse need to have another mouse plugged into it?”) In the Euclid’s case, it has, broadly, three USB ports: a type A (host) port, that you can plug things into, but which you’re strongly cautioned not to charge the internal battery from, a USB 3.0 type B (client) port, that you can charge it from, and a separate clip-on power back that you’re apparently supposed to use in actual robotics applications, where you want to run it off a single traction battery.

Sound confusing? It sure is! That brings up the next point: this is a really weird thing for Intel to be selling!

Generally, in the “””maker””” community, boards like these are “open-source”. This has a specific technical meaning, but broadly it means “heavily documented”. Take, for example, the BeagleBone Blue, another robotics board that runs Linux. If I’m confused about some weird arbitrary restriction in the manual, (charge from the type B, never from the type A?) then I can just look at the dang board schematic and see if they put a diode on the 5V rail that would actually prevent charging from the type A!

But Intel is in the business of selling things to idiot consumers, and keeps board schematics under their hat. Critical technical information is scattered across a dozen PDFs and “knowledgebase entries”, as is the practice of all gigantic corporations. 

Just buying the board is an ordeal: you can’t just check out as guest, Intel forces you to create a user account first, (with password strength rules!) then verify your email, then save your address in their system, before even letting you look at the checkout process.

The overall impression is of one executive at Intel valiantly attempting to release a cool product, with absolutely no relevance to Intel’s other product lines, or corporate strategy, or common sense; and the entire rest of the company trying its level best to stamp it out of existence. (The “getting started” packet in the box has three pages of useful information, then 7 pages of health and safety warnings translated into 20 languages) 

It’s a weird little board! Intel’s probably going to sell 200 of them, total. I really can’t imagine why they bothered.

Anyway, I’ve got a goofy little project involving it in the works. Stay tuned.

[taeguboi]

‘The Closet’ -- J Hope x Reader

Requested - I know everything lately is coming in parts but I just wanna stay active with my writing, so this is going to be a 2 part thing, even though it’s technically a one shot type thing

Masterlist // “Godammit Hoseok!” (My other J Hope x Reader one-shot)

The music industry is definitely not always as glamorous or exciting as one might think; four sleep-deprived individuals with a coffee supply to accommodate the entire college stare blankly at a computer screen with the same word on their minds --

Deadline.

“Guys, there are literally no takes I can say I’m pleased with… can we try again?” you question.

“We’ve only been able to book til 7… It’s like 20 to now…” Namjoon states.

“This set of assignments are the most stressful yet, I swear…” Hoseok groans, throwing his head into his hands.

You had been sat in the studio today with Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok for most of the day now, since early morning. To the outsider, this was just a course in which all you need to strive for is to achieve a decent final grade, but to you and your hard working friends, this was something so much more. This is a chance to prove your talents, your abilities, create something special that might one day reach out to people.

“Maybe if we just like fall asleep in here, the caretaker will take mercy upon us and leave us here and we can continue throughout the night” Yoongi jokes, stretching his arms out to behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

“Nah, that'd never happen Yoongs; we'd have to like hideout in that cupboard over there…” Namjoon chuckles, pointing over at the unaccounted for closet.

You get up out your chair and walk over to the closet door “What's this even used for anyways?” you enquire with a giggle, trying at the door handle, only to discover it locked.

“I don't know, extra mic stands or something?” Yoongi shrugs.

“Nah, they're kept in the corridor I think… I bet it's something weird like… a shower room!” Hoseok suggests.

“What would a fricking shower be doing in a studio Hobi, huh?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah Hobes, that would be breaking like so many health and safety rules, man!” you continue, joking.

“Ah, I really don't get how we find the will to live and joke at times like this….” Yoongi states, changing the subject, or so you think. “... And it's probably like washed up students who didn't pass….” Yoongi jokes “oooooh!” he dramatically whoos as though he is successfully scaremongering a child.

“Oh give up guys! What are we gonna do?” Namjoon groans with genuine concern about the project at hand, nodding towards the screen with an incomplete project displayed.

“There's only one thing for it; we come in as and when, even if not all of us. Whenever this place is free, we're get in here and work our asses off.” Yoongi responds expectantly.

Again, to an outsider, the response would be something along the lines of “hell no!” but why turn down the chance to work towards your dreams? Of course, everyone agrees, beginning to pack their bags and the equipment away, ready to get home and crash in their beds to catch up on some much needed sleep.

***

The very next morning, as expected, before any scheduled lesson times, everyone has piled into the studio to continue working, yourself taking plenty of drinks to lubricate your vocal chords and the boys having bought out a whole coffee shop to ensure everyone can stay alert during this unusual schedule.

“Right, one more time y/n to try another take and then me and Joon are gonna have to leave for our lesson” sighs Yoongi, finger ready at the mouse to click that ‘record’ button.

“Okay” you exhale deeply, the nerves trembling through you, forever being victim of red-light syndrome… Honestly, at times, you could practice countlessly and absolutely nail the song, but the minute that red button is pressed, something just ends up feeling… off.

Another take is attempted, and although it's probably your best yet, you can't help but still feel dissatisfied with the outcome.

“Right, you guys get going to class, I'm gonna keep practising, sorry” you apologise.

“Don't worry about it y/n; we all agreed we wanted to make this good” Yoongi reassures you as he and Namjoon make their way to exit. “Hobi can practice lines with you while we're gone.”

“But he's recorded everything” you reply, starting to feel annoyed that you don't possess the confidence that the rapper has when it comes to recording.

You can't help but feel that you're the one hindering the process of completing the track; the song is genius, penned, mixed and all the rest by the boys; the boys are reliable and so talented that you just couldn't wait to start collaborating with them when they requested that you give their song a female vocal… You were now just at the point of getting stressed out at yourself in your mind for your own incompetence.

“I'll stay with you though, so we can work on those nerves” Hoseok kindly tells you as Namjoon and Yoongi exit. His words threw you though; you'd never actually told a single one of the lads about your red light syndrome, so how did he know?

“I...I never said I was nervous” you stutter, evidently trying to tell yourself this more than him.

“Look, I used to get it all the time; recording, it's scary right? Like once that button gets hit, whatever you do has the potential to exist forever. It's natural to worry about messing up or not doing a good enough job.”

Well this feels a bit embarrassing now.

“Ah, n-n-n-n-no” you stutter “it's not that” you nervously chuckle, over exaggerating your gestures. “Yoongi was right; I just need more practice” you lie, not wanting to look like a fool in front of your class mate, though you're pretty sure you've failed to keep up a calm and collected persona now.

“Hmm” he mumbles uncertainly “Okay…”

You're rather sure he can tell just how hard you have been practicing and how you know this piece like the back of your hand; you could sleep sing this; if you woke up tomorrow, remembering only one thing, it'd be this.

And you know he knows.

“At least relax and have a coffee first, yeah?” he suggests.

“Fine” you sigh in defeat. “I swear you lot have an unhealthy obsession.”

“It's what keeps us going!” he defends dramatically, eliciting an awkward giggle from you as you feel slightly more awake from just Hoseok’s bright smile.

“Okay okay, I won't send you off to coffee-holics anonymous just yet…” you jest, grabbing a tepid cup for yourself.

“Hmm” you mumble with the same uncertainty as the boy in front of you previously had. “It's too cold for my vocal chords; I'm gonna have to nip out for a new one”

“Alright. I'll join you actually… in fact….” he continues, scrambling through his jacket pocket “...I'll pay!”

“Oh no! I can't possibly take money from someone who's time I've already wasted plenty of…” you argue.

“Who said anyone has taken or wasted anything?” he smiles. “What's wrong with ordering two lots of coffee for myself and happening to change my mind about the second?” he questions.

“You are daft Hobi.”

*

Entering the coffee shop, you wonder if the blonde haired boy who is strangely eager to order and buy your usual is trying to sweeten you up for some reason. Maybe he thinks you're purposely making bad takes as an excuse to stay away from other problems or something? A long shot,perhaps, but more likely the this stupid little fantasy that crops up in your in for just one naive moment before you tell yourself that you're certain it's the former.

Seating yourself at a quiet booth by the window, you pull out your laptop from your bag and connect to the cafe wifi for assignment work, and for a solid five minutes, you are able to write a couple of paragraphs for some evaluation.

“For you!” Hoseok chirps, carefully placing down both cups of caffeine rush. He observes your current typing urgently and sighs as he takes a seat opposite you.

“Y/n, we're supposed to be taking a breather: now put that laptop away and let's… talk” he smiles genuinely, though you're still uncertain whether your slight crush is making you blind to any sarcasm or insincerity.

You've always tried to brush Hoseok off, trying to just see him like a stain on your shirt - not noticeable always straight away, and when you do notice it, it doesn't completely ruin your day. Which is perhaps why you had subconsciously thought of the latest assignment deadline the moment opportunity knocked to chill out in his company.

“Ugh, I'm sorry Hoseok, I just tend tend to prefer evenings and weekends of freedom…” you excuse.

“Ah, freedom… what is that?” he questions with a sigh, placing his cheeks in his hands, attempting remain with a serious expression. You have to try your best not to break out in a stupid grin at the sight.

“I don't know… maybe it's in the closet” you jest, referring to yesterday's conversation about the mysterious door, and you figure you are now safe to smile a little excessively.

As though Hoseok is sat in daydream, he stares somewhat longingly out of the window, looking onto the busy city passing by. “Man, that'd be neat, to find whatever it is you need all behind one door…”

“Unfortunately, we all have to open several of them just to get even part of something we want nowadays” you bluntly reply, snapping him out of his romanticized thoughts.

*

Back in the studio, something catches your attention the minute you walk in -- well, not something specific, like a coat disappearing, but you can sense a change in the room since you left. Had someone been in here during your short break?

Seating yourself at the chair behind the microphone, you let out a huge sigh of frustration, still feeling unprepared to record a decent take, and you half expect Hoseok to give you some bullshit lecture again about how everything will be okay, but instead, you notice his attention is elsewhere.

Reaching out to the closet, Hoseok catches his fingers through the now existing gap between the door and the frame and the door effortlessly brushes open. The look of dopey excitement on his face is adorable, you mentally note as you get out of your seat to investigate just what Hoseok is up to…

“Well, I guess now, we can find out what’s behind this bloody door” he states, walking into the dark miniature room.

“Hoseok? What are you doing?” you question.

“Woooaahh!” he exclaims, clearly making an overreaction at what is probably a pile of textbooks on a shelf.

“Hobi, get out of there!” you instruct.

“No, y/n, you have to come check it out! It’s amazing!” he cries out, clearly trying to persuade you to go along with some pointless, insignificant clause.

But of course, you comply.

“Fine” you exhale, following behind the boy.

Entering the ‘mysterious’ room, you are slightly disappointed that the room is in fact empty.

“I don’t get it” you say with confusion. “All the times they moan about not having enough room for storage, yet here’s a perfectly good room just collecting dust and sorting nothing but fusty air…”

“Eh, I don’t know… I kind of like it” replies Hoseok. “It’s concealed from the world; it’s almost… cosy. It makes a pretty good hide out if you’re having some sort of panic attack I reckon.”

“Perhaps… but other than that?” you challenge.

“I have my ideas, but…” he begins, reaching for the handle and slowly pulling the door inwards to close it “...it depends.”

“Depends on what? What are you doing Hobi?” you ask, feeling as though you should be worried right now that some college guy is shutting the two of you in a closet that could potentially lock itself up.

“Depends if you’re claustrophobic for one thing…”

“I’m not.”

“In that case…” he continues, now definitely closing the gap. “Other than that, I could help you with those nerves…”

“Is that not the same thing as hiding out from the rest of the college?”

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t” he states, taking a step towards you and closing the space between you.

“Hobi, what are you playing at?” you enquire, quite conscious of how close you are to Hoseok now.

I feel like something is about to escalate super fast you think to yourself, and this thought is only heightened as Hoseok moves his gentle hand up to your dumb founded cheek.

You can’t help but feel drawn into him like a magnet.

Part 2 here