#im trying to draw more . possibly to distract from the depression but completing things helps with the serotonin ^_^;

[f1shart]

🚨❗EYESTRAIN💥❗ GAHHH anyway hyperpop ouck ^_^

have stupid idiot grunt too. i d..on't l ike him...

[nico-idc]

random vent because i'm numb rn and feel like it

This is a vent post, ill probably talk about su!cide, self h*rm, eating disorders and depression. I’ll also cuss a lot, and things will not be censored. Also, this may seem insensitive to people experiencing any of this, sorry about that.  Dont read this if youre triggered by that.

Also, this is my experience with mental health. Everyone deals with it differently. 

So, If anyone doesnt know, I have depression and anxiety. And right now, I’m feeling numb as it’s often described by people with depression. But, numb isn’t a very good description. I can still feel. I’ll still smile if you tell me a joke, or if something funny is on a video. I’ll still cry if there’s something super sad. Emotion is just watered down. I feel it, but not as much as I should. Me and my boyfriend were talking, and i couldnt tell him I loved him. It’s not becuase I dont love him, but I just cant feel much of anything, so I dont want to tell him I loved him. Becuase If i did that, I felt as though I was lying. The funniest thing is, I randomly started crying. Still felt nothing, but hey, I had tears streaming down my face. Who fucking knows why. 

I havent been doing to great for a while now, but this is the worst i’ve ever gotten. Ive never felt numb before. I mean, I’ve felt myself starting to go through the motions, but i’ve never gone completely numb before. And before this i’ve had a few mental breakdowns. Hell, I’ve sat in a corner twice in the past month or so doing nothing but sobbing and begging myself not to move so I dont grab something sharp and cut myself. (I did not relapse, don’t worry). and recently I completely broke down over simply eating a cereal bar, got through it, ate it. I’m good now. 

Figures. That does seem to be my experience. Oh no, big bad issue one time, then magically I just talk myself out of my bullshit, and im fixed. Ha ha, yet I act like I have all these issues. I mean, I didnt even attempt to starve myself, just thought “oh, friends and family wont let me” and didnt. Had a breakdown about a year later, been fine since. Cut for a few months, went to therapy for a few months, stopped cutting. had a few breakdowns about a year or two later, then was fine. was suicidal for a while, went to therapy for a bit, was happy for months. Had breakdowns every now and then, fine now.

ha ha, first time I say alot of this is online. Figures. I’ve done that a lot too. My boyfriend has found out a bit about my depression through this site. Becuase I cant talk to my boyfriend about my shit, but hey random people on the internet! hear about my problems.

So on another note, I recently found a song that describes part of depression pretty well. It’s called “i’m not dead” by boyinaband. it’s linked below, I’ll copy paste the lyrics, and explain how I relate, and what the lyrics mean to me, becuase why not? (lyrics will be in bold)

undefined

I'm not dead

I'm not fixed, but I'm not giving up yet

Basically, this means that im still here, im still depressed, but I’m still trying to fight depression. 

I'm sick of saying that I still don't have anything done

I hate telling friends I'm trying something just to give it up

I never commit to anything, I just say I’ll do something, then decide I dont want to.

I'm still unsure of my emotional state

I'm still incapable of focusing lately

I don't feel like creating

I'm tired of asking Google how to find motivation

I’ve been on break from writing for months now. tried to get back to it, lost concentration. I think this is self explanatory. 

I don't think I've ever made

Something that's as good as I'm capable of

Ha, I dont put in enough effort and commitment to make something as good as possible.

I hate not having a reason to look my best

I only ever take care of myself with the intent to show the internet

I mean, I dont try to show the internet, but I only take care of myself when other people will see me.

If what made me successful was an imposed sense of stress then

I am so so glad that I hated myself

The only thing that makes me do things is extreme stress.

I didn't luck into this position

I struggle with decisions

I mean, im not in any high position, but I do struggle with decisions. 

I wouldn't be my own friend

I'm too inconsistent

I’m inconsistent as hell. I’m in like 10 group chats, don't talk in any of them for months, then just show up like “hi, havent talked to you all in ages, but hi”. 

Without immense pressure nothing ever gets finished

If these words make it to your ears it'll be a fucking miracle.

Yep. I went on  whole rant about this on wattpad. Without pressure to do something, I don’t do it.

I'm fortunate to know more good people than most do

I wish I had more friends I could be physically close to

I dont personally have a lot of friends that dont live in my city, so the last line isnt an issue, but I do know a lot of good people”

I'm pretty good at like 20 different skill sets

At the expense of never being great at any one of them

I’m good at quite a few things. Drawing, math, even writing. But im not great at it. I’m average.

I wish this beat hit harder

I wish more syllables rhymed

I know 99 percent of people really don't mind

I dont personally relate to this, seeing as I dont make music.

I think collaborating forced me to finish things

'Cause I was terrified of wasting famous people's time

Oh yeah. Group projects would not get done if i wasnt scared of wasting my partner’s time.

I wish I could focus on what I define priority

I wish I was as grateful as I want to be

Dont really relate to these things

I wish I knew more people who were mentally stable

But if I did,

I wouldn't let them waste their time on me while I'm disabled

Oh yeah. Id love to have a friend who isnt depressed, but I wouldnt let them see that im fucked up becuase i dont wanna drag them down.

I feel alone

I know I'm not

I have a lot of friends, but I still fell alone in this world

I used to talk to lots of people.

Lately I've stopped

They didn't deserve it,

I've been a terrible friend.

But I couldn't bear to let myself become boring to them

I ignore group chats all the time. no reason. Probably shouldnt. 

I don't let myself get my hopes up.

I love people who do.

Something good happens? what could go wrong? that is my thought precess.

I never know if what I say I feel is the truth

I have no damn Idea what I think, so its so hard to know what the truth in my head is.

I wish I didn't instinctively try to be less specific

So more people could relate, when they read along with the lyrics.

Not lyrics, but if i write/explain something, I immediately generalize things so its relateable.

I can be happy in the moment

I am not when I reflect

I smile watching youtube, but then I look back and think about how I wasted time.

I distract myself with gaming, waiting to get better

I hate it

Youtube will cure depression right? /s

I wanna do the most good, and prevent the most hurt

But I've gotta put on my own oxygen mask first

This is just an important phrase I try to remember when I’m down. for people who dont do well with metaphors, he’s saying that if you want to help people, you need to help yourself first. 

I can't predict what I'll do.

I can never be sure

I am terrified of making promises any more

I can't face my work,

I feel sick from the word

I genuinely believe I'm capable of changing the world

Don’t relate much here, except for the more positive, upbeat tone the song takes on, and i feel that this part, the part above and everything below is dave fighting his depression.

I still think I can get better

I’m holding onto hope.

I still think I can create and get pleasure from it

I hope so, I want my art and writing to improve.

I'll keep aiming to make my emotion and my logic agree

The eternal stuggle. I always try to get the two to line up, it rarely works. I try to use logic more often though.

And become the best version of me

Always trying to improve myself.

I don't want to stop!

I don't want to stop!

I don't want to stop!

I don't want to stop!

There’s alot this could mean. I dont want to stop creating. I dont want to stop fighting. I dont want to stop getting better. I dont want to stop living. I relate to all these things.

I’ll expand on this more later, it’s too late now for me to continue this

[breathingwithdifficulty]

im so fucking done of being stuck in the house with my own sister and it’s becoming very clear that her abusive tendencies haven’t really gone away. she has been commenting on what i eat and what i do during the day (which is not a whole lot but... it’s quarantine. sorry for actually listening to social distancing rules unlike everyone in my house and most of the people in my town). she knows im depressed but her constant negativity and criticism isn’t helping. the whole unfairness of our relationship has become really clear. i basically wait on her hand and foot and when i don’t do something she asks of me, she gets pissed and calls me “lame” or berates me like “its not even that hard” or just “seriously? it’ll take two seconds” like damn bitch do it yourself then. im not your servant just because im your nice little sister.

i don’t ever ask anything of her. literally can’t remember the last time i asked her to do anything for me. i only ever tell her to do stuff like “leave me alone” and “stop messing with that” and “please stop, seriously” and “that hurt” (physically or emotionally) and she NEVER i mean NEVER fucking listens. she doesn’t care. she thinks it’s funny to tease me and torment me and irritate me and then blames me for being too sensitive when i finally snap at her because im pissed off. damn, maybe if you weren’t making it hard for me to breathe by suddenly jumping on me and refusing to get up and leave me alone, i wouldn’t have to push you on the floor and yell at you to get out. maybe if you weren’t constantly hypocritical, i wouldn’t be so irritated with you all the time.

we both have to do our homework at home now which isn’t that big of a deal for me since i can focus a lot better than she can and i know that. but she’s so incredibly inconsiderate. she needs complete silence when she’s doing her homework and says it’s distracting for me to even walk past her when she’s working. so i stay silent. i put headphones in to listen to videos or zoom calls and i warn her if i have to record or talk. i try not to get up and get food or use the bathroom too often. im more than considerate.

however, whenever im doing my homework, she’s facetiming her friend, being on zoom calls without headphones and with the volume on high and her talking at full volume (EVEN AFTER i offered her to use my headphones for her calls multiple times because it’s distracting for me and she was like “of course im not gonna use headphones, that would look silly” like bruh) and singing and talking and literally SCREAMING. like wordless, just screaming because she gets frustrated with her work. bro, i get it. but shut the hell up. god, she would kill me if i did some of the things she does to me while she was working. id literally get cursed and yelled at.

she asks me pretty frequently if i think she’s a good person. i think she’s a good person sometimes. i think she’s too sensitive and can’t take any sort of criticism and lashes out at me because she thinks im pretentious and bratty. she’s straight up told me that she used to resent me (starting from when i was literally a BABY) and still kind of does. she says im much better than i used to be. the only reason she thinks that is because i stopped putting up as much of a fight against her. if i ever say something sassy or rude or even just defend myself, she claims im a dickhead brat who’s spoiled and has a bad attitude. really she’s just a sensitive little bitch.

ive lost four pounds in the past couple weeks because ive been eating less by tracking my calories. i haven’t really been eating a whole lot better but i think four pounds is a pretty good start considering how this is the first time ive really tried and committed to losing weight. but even my sister doesn’t think that’s enough.

i eat a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. she walks up and says “you know, a bagel is equal to like 5 slices of bread.” yes i know. you’ve told me already this week. you told me a month ago. you keep telling me. im just trying to eat, dude, back off and stop trying to make me feel bad because im not eating fruit smoothies and salad and avocado toast like you are. i get it, you’re skinny and healthy and like to pretend you don’t know it but you and i both know that you do. call yourself fat all you want, but my friends have literally asked if you’re a model, you have maybe an inch thick of stomach fat, i can feel the bumps of your spine when i touch your back, and i can see your ribs when you stretch your arms up.

she knows it makes me feel bad when she calls herself fat and she does not care in the slightest. she’s like “oh im getting pretty chunky oh boy” and then ill make a comment about feeling fat and she’ll be like “oh you’re not fat” like bruh i know you think you’re chunky and i have a lot more fat than you do don’t lie to me.

she told me it makes her feel worse about her hairline when i comment about how im insecure about mine. so i stopped saying anything about it. i told her it makes me feel bad when she comments on how im not doing basic things right (cutting an apple, cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming, sweeping. all real examples of things she says im not good at and calls me stupid. how the fuck is someone BAD at sweeping? the floor’s clean now isn’t that what matters?) and she said “well practice makes perfect” and i told her it makes me feel even worse about myself and she was just like “well you don’t know how to clean and you need to learn.”

i know how to clean. ive cleaned my room. ive cleaned the kitchen. ive cleaned our shared bathroom (she came home when i was just finishing up after deep cleaning it and even doing the parts she said she would do because i was just that nice. she immediately criticized me and said i had cleaned with the wrong cleaner and needed to reclean the whole thing again. i said no because that’s ridiculous and it was about to turn into a fight so like the pushy i am i gave in and cleaned. the whole. bathroom. again. but with a different cleaner that wasn’t “greasy” and “only for oil and grease, not bathrooms” and “smelled bad” because that really matters in the long run i guess). i just don’t do it the quickest or maybe the most efficient or the way she would do it but literally WHO CARES. if the floor is swept why does it matter that i didn’t do it as fast as you would. goddamn.

she came into my room while i was drawing on my digital tablet today. i showed her how it worked and everything and she asked to see something that id drawn and i said no (ive never been comfortable showing my art to other people that aren’t strangers online (lol) and she has consistently taken sketchbooks directly from my hands or gone through them when i was in a different room despite me telling her multiple times not to) and she kept asking for a reason and i just said i didn’t want to. she kept interrogating me and i was like “i don’t know what you want me to say” and she was like “i want a logical answer why you won’t show me” and of course i didn’t really have one and so i was just like “i don’t really have one, i just don’t wanna show you because it makes me uncomfortable” and she got pissy and left. fine, leave, don’t want you in here anyways. stop being so offended that you don’t get unfiltered access to everything in my life.

she’s a biology major. im trying to decide on a vague idea for my future major and i can’t remember how it was brought up but i said something about going into STEM and possibly biology and she was like. “aw don’t do that. i mean if it really makes you happy then go ahead but ill be upset and probably a little pissed.” which okay i get that a bit (eh) but ive never even thought about going into bio so she doesn’t have to worry and i told her as much. and then i asked why she wouldn’t want me to and she was like “because everyone knows you’d be better than me at it and i just want to have like... my thing” (i get that too (but maybe if you did your work on time and actually went to class then you’d be better at it. but whatever)) and i said i probably wouldn’t be better but i get that or whatever. and then i think she made a joke and i laughed and she was a few seconds later like “why do you look so smug? like you’re happy about the fact that i think you’re better than me” and i was like “that’s literally not true” and she was like “everyone likes feeling like they’re smart and you feel like you’re better than me and you’re smug about it” (or something like that) and i had to convince her that not i literally do not and am not smug. damn bitch, insecure much? that pissed me off that she would think that low of me to assume that i ENJOYED her insecurities and felt like i was smarter than her. wow. ive told her countless times in depth and with detail that i believe we both have strengths and weakness and neither of us are better than the other, and she still doesn’t believe me. but whatever.

it’s constant, little things like that. ive always managed to let a lot of them slide and that is one of the only reasons she thinks im such a good sister. that and i lie to her a lot about how i feel about her. she says stuff like “im surprised you haven’t killed me in my sleep yet, you’re too good to me, ive been terrible to you” but still continues. but whatever. ive only been waiting for her to move out for four years now, i guess i can wait a few more months (hopefully only that).

she says she’ll get pissed if i don’t call her every week once we aren’t living together and so i say i will but. i don’t want to. i don’t want to tell her about my life and my worried just to have her criticize them or say im being ridiculous. i don’t want to have to live like this forever. im so tired. so so tired.

im not saying it’s all bad. sometimes our donut runs at 2am are nice. and sometimes she is interested in what im doing when no one else is. sometimes, she gives good advice. sometimes we talk for hours on end. she’s one of the first people i go to when im having problems with me my mom. i trust her with somethings. it’s not all bad

but her constant emotional and verbal abuse has shaped me into a scared, pushover little girl with insecurities, trust issues, and guilt. she’s always said i was the favorite and laughs now and says “i think me being mean to you when we were younger was good for you, it too you down a few pegs so now you’re not so spoiled.” it also traumatized me and gave me self esteem issues, but yeah, haha, at least im not a spoiled brat (but to you, i still am, but only when i don’t do what you want or say what you want me to say). thanks for that.

anyways, it’s been a while since ive made a long rant. it’s past 4am and i woke up at 2:30pm today so it’s probably time to sleep and dread waking up in the morning. nice.

4.18.20 4:22AM

[smkkbert]

Time for a story - Understanding

Oliver waited. It had been almost an hour since Felicity had locked herself in the en suite bathroom. Her cries had almost completely lapsed into silence by now. He could still hear her taking in slightly sniffling breaths every once in a while, though. The entire time neither of them had said a word. Oliver wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk yet or if she was just waiting for him to make the first move or if she needed more time, so he just waited until he was sure. He didn’t want to urge her.

He used the time to think about what might have possibly happened that had let them to this moment that they were sitting on opposite sides of the bathroom door in the middle of the night. He wondered if the pants with Alice Clark’s number in the pocket had anything to do with it, but Felicity knew some women had slipped him his number and it hadn’t been a problem. They had actually made jokes about it because Felicity knew that there was nothing going on between him and any other women. She knew how much he loved her. As much as he was trying to understand it, he felt he was missing the most important pieces that he would need to put the puzzle together.

The situation weirdly reminded him of how Felicity had thought he wanted to break up with her when they had been together for only a little bit more than two months. She had thought that he was acting weird and jumped to the conclusion that he must have lost interest in her. The real reason why he had been acting weird, though, had been quite the opposite since he had actually been acting weird because he had been so nervous about planning on proposing.

The proposal had gone completely different than planned then. When Felicity had come back home from a shopping tour with Thea, who had been set up to distract Felicity during the days, so Oliver could have planned everything, he had done his best to convince her that he loved her and nothing about that had changed. He hadn’t been good with words back then, so he had whispered I love yous into every inch of her skin while he had been making love to her, worshipping her body with all the love he had had in himself. He had watched her face screwed in pleasure, her boy moving in rhythm with his, and he hadn’t been able to hold the question back any longer.

Oliver chuckled quietly, rubbing his hands over his face. He doubted anyone who’d meet Felicity and him would think that the actual proposal had happened in the middle of coital bliss.

“What’s so funny?” Felicity asked quietly.

“Nothing, sorry,” Oliver was quick to reply, suddenly realizing that it must be weird for Felicity if he just started laughing in this situation. He didn’t want her to think that he was laughing about her or about her, so he added, “I was just thinking about the first time I proposed to you.”

“Back in your room in Roy’s and Thea’s loft?”

Oliver smiled. “That was the first time I proposed or do you want to tell me that I proposed to you in my sleep and you never told me?”

“No,” Felicity replied and Oliver could hear the small smile in her voice. “You just like to pretend the real proposal was the one at your family’s beach house.”

“Well, I put a lot more planning into that proposal,” Oliver explained, “and it was definitely much more the proposal you deserved.”

“I liked that first proposal.”

“So did I,” Oliver admitted before he grinned. “I’m glad we were both satisfied with it.”

There was a short pause before Felicity said, “I can’t believe you just said that.”

They both chuckled. It didn’t last long, but it took away a little bit of the tension that had filled the air since Felicity had locked herself in. Oliver took in a deep breath and looked at the door handle.

“Can you open the door, so we can talk?” he asked. “Please.”

It took a while before Felicity answered, “Can’t we talk like this?”

Oliver bit his tongue. He would like to look into Felicity’s face when they talked. It was easier to read her reactions then and to know if what he was saying was actually helping her or only making things worse. If she wasn’t ready for that yet, then they would have to feel their way to that. They just had to take one step at a time.

“So what-“ Oliver stopped, sucking in a deep breath and shooting a look towards the bed. “What happened there?”

Felicity didn’t answer. Oliver could hear her sucking in a deep breath like he had done before, though. He gave her time, waiting for her to be ready to tell him what had happened. Felicity stayed quiet, though.

“Felicity?” he whispered eventually.

“I’m… I’m thinking,” she replied.

Oliver nodded to himself. “Okay.”

It took a while longer before Felicity finally sighed and Oliver could almost see her squeezing her eyes shut.

“I found Alice Clark’s phone number in the pocket of your pants when I did the laundry earlier today,” Felicity whispered.

So it had had to do with that, Oliver thought to himself, not saying a word yet. He had wondered about that since the pants had been lying on his side of the bed almost like they had been put there on purpose. Oliver bit down on his tongue to keep himself from saying anything and waited for Felicity to continue. She didn’t say anything more, though.

“She slipped me her number during that parents’ evening last week. I told you about that,” he added gently, making sure it didn’t sound like a reproach because it wasn’t one. “I must have missed her number when I trashed them and-“

“I know,” Felicity interrupted him in a whisper. “You don’t need to explain anything.”

Oliver rubbed his thumb against his other fingertips nervously, unsure what to say. He knew from experience that sometimes you just got lost in a thought and in whatever worst case scenario you could draw from it. He remembered how hard it had been when he had been traveling to Central City every other weekend and he remembered how terrible he had felt about it. Then the photos of Ray and Felicity having dinner together had been published and he had completely freaked out, his judgement clouded by his insecurities and fears that Felicity could have found someone who could be a better husband, be there more often and offer all the things he couldn’t. The reproached he had confronted her with that night were definitely in his top three of regrets.

Felicity had stated more than once that the depression was messing with her head. She felt disconnected from herself and almost as insecure as she had been when she had been a little girl, still deeply affected by being abandoned by her father. He could see how her head might have gone down the road of imagining every worst case possible.

“Are you sure?” Oliver whispered. “Because I wouldn’t mind assuring to you that-“

“No,” Felicity interrupted him. “I… I have this little voice inside of my head that keeps trying to tell me that I am naïve for trusting you like that, but I do. I do trust you like that.”

Oliver frowned slightly. “Voice?”

“My voice,” Felicity was quick to explain. “It’s not a stranger’s voice or something. I am not crazy or-“

“I know,” Oliver interrupted her quickly before she could talk herself into a long ramble. “So a part of you is trying to cast doubts?”

“Kind of,” Felicity replied, “but I know you would never cheat on me.”

He wouldn’t and he knew Felicity knew, but he was glad she was saying it with that certainty nonetheless. Oliver pressed his lips together for a moment, biting his tongue. Despite his relief about her words, he hadn’t missed the little word that had resonated in her words.

“But?”

“I don’t know,” Felicity whispered, her voice sounding almost defeated. “I kind of feel like I am losing myself and like in those moments that I am losing myself I am also losing us.”

Oliver heard the sob coming from Felicity and he had to squeeze his eyes shut and take in a deep breath to stop the pain that was forming in his chest from taking over. Hearing Felicity saying these words hurt more than just knowing that they were true. He wished he could just wrap her into his arms and hold her until she was feeling better and feeling reconnected with herself again.

“I love you, Felicity,” he stated quietly, “and you might feel like you are losing yourself, but you are not. You are still Felicity. We are still Oliver and Felicity. Nothing between us has really changed, at least not if you ask me. We are getting through this together like we are always getting through everything together and nothing could ever change my feelings for you or-“

“We didn’t have sex in more than three months.”

Oliver felt his heart skipping a beat and pressed his lips together tightly. He felt like they were slowly starting to address the actual problem here. He took in a deep breath before sighing lowly.

“I know,” he whispered then. “So?”

“So?” she mimicked his voice after a moment. “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

Oliver didn’t answer immediately, taking his time to think about how to reply honestly without deepening the insecurities Felicity seemed to have with the issue. Sex had never been an issue for them at all, at least none that they wouldn’t have been able to make fun of. During the last pregnancy, a year ago at this time actually, Felicity had gone into sexual overdrive to a point where Oliver had felt the need to ask her to decrease the number of sexy times. Felicity had used it to make a lot of jokes, still did so whenever she felt she could bring it up and it was okay because that was just a part of who they were.

“I love having sex with you,” Oliver said eventually, “but sex isn’t everything in our marriage. It’s-“

“It’s important,” Felicity interrupted him. “It’s important in our marriage.”

“It’s not that im-“

“Don’t tell me it’s not that important,” Felicity interrupted him firmly. “We usually have a lot of sex. We love having sex with each other. We are communicating through sex and it does take up a lot of our time. God, I gave you sex as a gift for your birthday and we have lists of unfulfilled sexual desires that we are working on whenever we get the chance to and we even traveled to Russia to fulfill one of those fantasies as realistically as possible. Sex is really important in our marriage.”

“It is,” Oliver admitted after a short moment of consideration. “Sex is important in our marriage, but it’s not everything.”

Felicity didn’t reply anything, and Oliver shut his eyed for a moment to figure out how to best explain why not having sex lately didn’t bother him or didn’t even unsettle him. He had realized that they weren’t having sex. There was no denying that. He loved Felicity and he loved having sex with her, so it was hard to miss that they weren’t having sex right now, but it didn’t really bother him as much as Felicity seemed to think it might or even should bother him.

“I love you, Felicity,” he said with a low sigh, letting the intensity of his words spread in his chest, “and I love having sex with you. You are right. Sex is important because it’s a way for us to communicate. It’s not the only way we communicate, though. We have so many way of communicating with each other that really I am not worried if we communicate less through sex right now because we still have so many other ways to do so.”

He looked towards the bed once more, replaying what had happened there an hour ago in his head all over again. He still felt a little stitch in his chest when he remembered how betrayed Felicity had looked when he had stopped her from just continuing making out with her.

“I love having sex with you,” he repeated after a while, “and I certainly miss having sex with you, but the reason why our sex is so amazing is because we are both feeling so comfortable around each other. I don’t feel like I need to hide any piece of myself when we are being intimate and I hope that you feel the same way. I would never want our sex life to turn into a… a duty because it shouldn’t be. We should have sex because we are feeling comfortable around each other and because we want to have sex, not because we feel we have to.”

“I-“

“I know that you love me and I know that you love having sex with me,” Oliver interrupted her before she could say it because he just knew she was going to try to defend herself when really she had no reason to do so. “I also know that you aren’t quite feeling like yourself right now, so I guess it’s only natural to not feel any desire for sex. There are other things going on in your head. I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to have sex with me for whatever reason you might think that you do.“

There was a long silence and Oliver went through his words in his head once more, making sure they were saying what he had meant for them to say. He hoped Felicity understood them the way he had intended them, reassuring and soothing. Eventually, he leaned back against the door frame, looking at the closed door with held breath.

“What do you do when you feel the need for sex and I am not ready?” Felicity asked with whispered voice. “What if it will just take me too long?”

“Well, first of all I think I have proved to be able to not have sex for more than a couple of months since I did get lost for five years and did spend some of these in celibate. Same thing after I broke up with Sara. I didn’t have sex for a year before you came bursting into the loft, telling me that we were together now if I wanted to or not. I did want to by the way, just in case there was any doubt about that.”

Felicity released a huff of breath before she asked, “And secondly?”

“Secondly, in case I should feel so needy to have sex, I have seven and a half years of very wonderful memories of how sex with you feels like and I have two very healthy hands to help me release the tension.”

Oliver waited for Felicity’s answer with held breath. They hadn’t talked about masturbation often, mainly because of their fulfilled sex life. They had however masturbated together a few months ago as it had been one of the wishes on Felicity’s sex list, a list he was keeping safely to put to good use when time called for it. Anyway, he Oliver just hoped that his honesty right now wasn’t overwhelming her.

“I know that you are struggling,” he said eventually when Felicity stayed quiet. “When I came back from the island, I was struggling, too. Even when we got together three years later, I still had trouble because I never really worked through my issues until then. It took time, a lot of time really, and I know they will never just completely go away. I do however know that what helped me was that I knew I could always lean on you. Letting you hold me after nightmares or talking to you when I was feeling down was helping me and I hope that I can do the same for you and-“

When Oliver heard the key turning in the lock, he stopped. Holding his breath, he waited for Felicity to open the door. It only took a couple of seconds before the door opened a little. Felicity peaked out at him, her bottom lip caught between her front teeth. Just like he did, she was sitting on the floor, right next to the door.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” Oliver whispered back, smiling. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Felicity replied, releasing a short chuckle, “slightly embarrassed and ashamed after-“

“Don’t,” Oliver interrupted her gently, shaking his head. “You have no reason to be.”

Felicity bit down on her bottom lip again, leaning her head against the tiled wall. She looked at him, releasing a low sigh of relief. Oliver smiled and reached out his hand for her. It only took her the break of a second to put her hand in his and let Oliver pull her closer until she was sitting in his lap. Their lips met in a slow kiss immediately.

This, kissing Felicity like this, was what made him the most comfortable. He could feel in the way she kissed him back and the way her hands stroked through his hair gently that she wasn’t kissing him because she felt she needed to do so. She was kissing him because she wanted to kiss him and because she felt comfortable and content doing so and that was all he wanted and needed for them.

When Felicity broke the kiss abruptly, Oliver opened his eyes and frowned at the way Felicity was looking at him or rather right through him.

“Hey, what’s- what’s going on?” he asked.

Felicity didn’t answer. She pulled her hand from his shoulder and put it to her baby bump, moving it slightly until she seemed to have found the right position where her hand stayed. Oliver watched the movements closely before he looked back at Felicity’s face.

“Felicity?” he asked, nervously waiting for her to tell him what’s wrong.

Instead of answering Felicity took his hand and put it to her rounded belly where her own hand had rested only a couple of seconds ago.

“Can you feel it?” she asked.

“Feel what?” Oliver asked since he wasn’t feeling anything other than the warmth of her skin that came through her top.

“The baby is kicking,” Felicity replied, looking down at their hands for a moment before she looked back at him with a wide smile. “Our baby is kicking.”

“Our baby is kicking,” he repeated her words, feeling her smile infecting him. “Our baby is really kicking?”

Felicity nodded furiously, tears welling in her eyes. “The baby is kicking.”

Within the break of a second Oliver cupped Felicity’s face in his hands and kissed her, gently yet with all the wrought-up emotions he was feeling in his chest. He rolled them over, lying Felicity down on the floor and hovering above her as he kept kissing her. There was nothing sexual about the kiss despite the closeness in the moment. There was just them and their raw emotions.

This, kissing Felicity in the bliss of the moment of knowing that she could feel their baby kick for the first time, was the very reason why he wasn’t worried about them. No matter how hard this time was for her, for both of them actually, they could still work through their issues and be happy about the little moments of happiness they were given in the middle of this storm around them. As long as that wouldn’t change, Oliver doubted that he would have to be worried.

Hey, guys! I need to warn you that it might be possible that you have to wait a while for the next chapters. I am not really feeling like myself right now, having trouble to enjoy anything and basically stressing myself out over worst case scenarios that might not even happen. Yep, I basically wrote about it in the last two chapters, even if on a completely different subject. Anyway, as long as I am not feeling like writing, I won’t post. I hope it won’t take too long, but I can’t promise anything. Since the last eps of Arrow will start being aired soon and we know it’s going to be lit and Olicity is finally rising again, I think you can endure a longer wait. 

xoxo Kathi

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