lic in the place to be

Lichfield’s medieval city seal (devised in 1548) depicts three martyred Christian knights. In the mid-13th century, a legend developed that in around 300AD, a thousand Christians were massacred by a Roman army under orders of the Emperor Diocletian and their bodies left unburied in a place that would become known as the ‘Field of Corpses’ aka Lichfield (from the Old English “lic” - corpse).  However, this legend is unsupported by either archaeological evidence or the cathedral chronicles.

Lichfield, April 2017.

But, Stay

@liamalmighty has this brunette Niall theory… Bressie’s noticed, I’m sure.

It always seems like they’re the last ones at the end of the night. Just him and Bressie and the dying embers of the bonfire, smell of smoke still lingering in the air. Bressie looks comfy in his pullover, half slumped in his chair, thighs spread wide.

If Niall was still buzzing, he’d plop right into Bressie’s lap for this conversation, but it’s long enough past midnight that he’s nearly sober, feeling the cold far too acutely. So he slides into the chair next to Bressie instead, angling at him. Too far away to touch properly. 

Inside, Deo’s snoring on the couch. Niall’s pretty sure 1-3 of the girls crashed on his own bed instead of in one of the guest rooms. The lights are all on, the kitchen and the halls and the upstairs bathroom, for some reason. 

Bressie’s nursing the same beer he’s had for ages, eyes somewhere off in the distance. Niall feels like they’ve been dancing around something all weekend, but he’s not sure what. Keeps catching Bressie just lookin’ at him. Sometimes he’s got this look on his face, like Niall’s a puzzle he needs to solve. 

It’s been weird, not knowing where Bressie’s mind is at. It’s not tension, not bad, but it’s something, Niall knows it is. He’s been waiting for Bressie to say something, but all Bressie’s done is stare, so Niall figures he has to initiate the conversation.

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Hijikata was acting weird, so… not like himself. Well, not like his usual self, more like the person Hijikata had been before he and Gintoki had started seeing each other. And the worst part was that Gintoki couldn’t do anything about it because Hijikata was never around. Gintoki was sure he’d made a mistake at some point, one that had offended Hijikata enough to turn him back into the cold individual he’d once been, but for the life of him, Gintoki couldn’t think of what it was. He’d rattled his brain for the past two weeks trying to figure it out, but he couldn’t pinpoint anything.

He wouldn’t confide in anyone, nor would he let it show, but… he was a little nervous about it. Enough so that he was all messed up, hi stomach was in a perpetual state of sinking and sometimes his heart would hurt if he thought about it too much. It wasn’t just that Hijikata was never around, it was more than that, there was something more there, he was convinced. Gintoki hadn’t actively gone to seek Hijikata out, but when they’d bumped into each other by coincidence, he’d gotten the cold shoulder. Hijikata had been abrupt and brusque, getting rid of Gintoki as fast as possible. He didn’t want to admit that it hurt, but it did and there was no denying that to himself.

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Submitted by:

Length: Super long

A quick description: It’s the year 2525 and a company can expand the life of humans twice their initial life span. To keep the balance of the population, random people are selected, or marked, to be transported to a remote island of paradise. The protagonist quickly then realizes what is really happening, as they aren’t marked for paradise.

Everyone knows the story of Life Infinite and NOVA. Now in the year 2525, death can now be a choice. Massive advances in the scientific field have led to the discovery of infinite life, and the product NOVA thanks to one scientist and one greedy bastard.

The NOVA boost, if you are so graciously selected from LifeInfiniteCorp, doubles your life span and gives you never-ending energy. NOVA was derived from plants. When the plants were attacked by fungi, they let off a chemical to keep the plant itself alive while killing off the fungi. A scientist by the name of Ivar Ström 2062 after years of research, came to the conclusion that if a living organism was giving off this chemical, or receiving this chemical, it may expand the life of the organism. 

He started off small, working on pygmy mice whose lifespan only lasted an approximate two years. Ström added a few drops of the chemical to the mice’s water and food. He’d watch the mice daily for two years straight. His test subjects lived for a total of 6 years, nearly three times its lifespan. He wanted to expand what he had started, moving to larger animals such as cats, to dogs, to monkeys, and to eventually a human subject. After years of dedicating his life to his research, he was determined to be recognized. 

Ström’s human subject was an elderly man on the brink of death. He was dying of terminal cancer, and he basically signed the last moments of his life over to Ström with a waiver. The man was injected with NOVA directly into his brain, where the cancer lied. Miraculously in under a week, the man’s tumor dissipated and he had more energy than he had in years. 

Ström was thrilled with his experiment. Having documented everything, he headed to the FDA with his findings. He had hoped this discovery would cure diseases and help the human population. Ström went, only to have his experiments shut down permanently. Depression hit the Swedish scientist hard as he fell deep into a hole of self pity. He knew his discovery would change the world, and he wanted the world to see. So he broadcasted everything live on a daily basis, gaining an incredible amount of followers and attention, included the attention of a slimy business owner, Matthias DeLusce. 

The two met, discussed prices and product, and started LIC, LifeInfiniteCorp. Ström got the recognition he finally deserved for his miraculous findings, and DeLusce got the money he wanted. Ström continued his work through his retirement, nearly 60 years after curing the patient’s cancer. He received a visit through LIC from the cancer patient, who had still been alive and energetic as ever. Ström was dumbfounded, the man was nearly 90 years old. DeLusce, Ström, and everyone else soon realized NOVA did more than just cure cancer or diseases, it lengthen human lifespan. DeLusce couldn’t believe it; knowing he could forever run his company excited him more than it should have. So they set out more production of NOVA, testing it with the company for years before releasing it to the public. 

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Olicity Fic: Sleep Over.ii- 1/5

0Summary: After two months of domestic coupling, Oliver and Felicity get an unexpected house guest. 

Rated: M, mild language and eventual smut.

After a long break, the prompt that created the Sleep Over Universe came back with a vengeance. For those of you who haven’t read the Sleep Over fics they stop following canon about ¾ of the way through Season 3. So I guess now it would be considered and Alternate Universe with canon elements. 

Back when I first started writing in this universe I had a list of people who wanted to be tagged. I tagged ya’ll again just in case, but if anyone wants to be un-tagged, or tagged, just let me know. 

You can find the other fics here: Master List, Sleep Over, The Morning After, & Back in the Picture

Now on to the story: 

Oliver couldn’t help but lean back against the kitchen table with his arms folded across his chest and a look of amusement on his face. Felicity stood opposite him in her kitchen with a frown and sopping wet hands.

“You rearranged my kitchen cabinets?” He couldn’t tell if it was shock in her voice, or frustration.

She twirled around in her spot, looking at the opened cabinet to her left, and seemed to be trying to figure out where the salad bowl she just finished washing was supposed to go. His gleeful smile and shrug of indifference to her question were probably not the correct responses, he noted, as she threw the nearby dish towel at his face.

“Oliver, this is not funny.” She told him in her serious voice, the one he had heard during many a superhero pep talk. “I have a system.”

He loved his girlfriend. Truly, he did.

Her ‘system’ for kitchen organization was pure madness. As she took over Palmer Technologies and he slowly moved most of his belongings to her place, he spent more and more time taking care of said apartment. Through force of newly trained habit he became the person who shopped for groceries, cleaned the apartment, and even cooked their meals.

It only made sense, to him, to have an organized kitchen that would optimize his cooking time.

Felicity hadn’t even noticed when he did it, which just proved how little she used the space. Two months had passed since he moved in, unofficially, and it had been just as long since he rearranged the kitchen. He also organized her laundry room and coat closet but he didn’t think now was the right time to bring that up.

“You had your plates in one cabinet with your cereal, your bowls in another cabinet with your spices, your cooking utensils were on the highest shelf over the refrigerator …” He paused as her expression only grew more hostile. “Why are you mad at me? I’m the one who cooks.”

Felicity let out a huff of air before turning back to the sink. “You didn’t even ask me, you just did it.”

Oliver unfolded his arms and took a step in her direction. Felicity only began scrubbing the pot from dinner with a little more force as he moved closer.

“Felicity,” he murmured as he came up behind her, bracing both hands on either side of her. “I’ve basically been living here for the past two months and you didn’t ask me to do that either. Yet each time I tried to spend the night at the loft you got this kicked puppy look on your face.”

He took a step closer, pressing himself to the length of her form. She didn’t turn to look at him or challenge his logic, which he knew from experience meant something else was going on.

“Fe-lic-ity,” he drawled out as he reached into the soapy waters to still her hands. “Talk to me.”

Wordlessly Felicity dropped the pot and sponge to turn around in Oliver’s grasp. Her eyes lacked their normal sparkle she would get when she was in his arms.

“You are all over this place.” She told him. “Your stuff is in my bathroom and my closet. Your toothbrush is sitting next to mine and your cologne smell is the only thing I can smell when I curl up in my sheets. You are always here and you buy my groceries, you clean my apartment, and you cook for me.”

Oliver watched her formulate her words with slow, yet careful precision. He wasn’t sure if he liked the direction she was going in, but knew he had to hear her out. They hadn’t had the ‘moving in’ conversation so he was technically still a guest in her home. A guest who never left.

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we need to fetch back the time, they have stolen from us - olicity spy AU

A/N: Spy AU.

H.I.V.E Agent Felicity Smoak has met her match with A.R.G.U.S agent Oliver Queen. In fact, he is the most infuriating man she has ever met and she can’t stand him. Or maybe thats the farthest thing from the truth.

A massive THANKS to my girl Emily - longlivefelicitythequeen - for editing this! <3

Hope you enjoy!


For all the missions she’s done over the years, this is the only one Felicity’s ever looked close to her true self.

Her blonde curls are tighter than usual; not that she’s complaining because, wow, she finally won a battle with her curler. Her tight red one shouldered dress she’s wearing actually accentuates her curves, which compliments the bright red lipstick that she’s been carrying around for months.

So all in all, Agent Felicity Smoak feels like she’s on top for once in a really long time.

And maybe she’ll win if H.I.V.E let’s her keep the dress.  Because, seriously? She’s earned this heavenly thing.

Her father has made her trot around the globe chasing a low life scum art dealer in order to find Derek Wolfe – the head of the biggest international high-end art counterfeit ring.

So yeah, her dad – Damien Darhk, head of H.I.V.E, may have stroked her ego into packing up her life - her really, really good life of short missions and coming home to a…ugh, she does not want to remember who she left behind. It literally hurts her soul to think of them all alone – for a few months to go catch a guy that sells fake paintings to the Louvre for fun, by telling her that he needed his ‘best H.I.V.E agent out on the case’.

Felicity knew the only reason she is here instead of Sara Lance is that Sara is taking down the League of Assassins from the inside.

By herself.  Damn that BAMF best friend of hers.

Plus, she knows her father. This isn’t just about catching the bad guy and locking him up. There’s more to it, Damien Darhk wants something - probably information on his connections to the criminal underground world. So that’s why H.I.V.E needs to move quickly and quietly before A.R.G.U.S gets word on the lead.

So Felicity, currently disguised as ‘Meghan’, is sitting at the bar of some classy Parisian club trying to pick out the dodgy artsy crowd from the normal artsy crowd.

Is there such a thing?

Oh lord, how she wants to be home.

Her eyes scan the room until her eyes come to a brutal stop on the doorway. Because she sees him. Standing there with his handsome smirking face and in the hot grey suit that she likes.

Likes? Oh, no no no.

Appreciates? Shit, that’s even worst. Oh god, if he ever knew what she’s thinking right now, he’ll make her life a living nightmare.

Of course Waller sends him, she always sends him. Don’t they have any other top agents at A.R.G.U.S?

It’s like Amanda Waller and her father enjoy seeing her get incredibly flustered and you know, do horrific embarrassing things around Agent Oliver Queen.

Like gawk and unconsciously reach out to try and touch his bare abs upon their first meeting five years ago.

Felicity hopes that Oliver doesn’t recognize her new disguise because last time they met, eight days ago, she was sporting a cute brunette bob while wearing paint splattered overalls, pretending to be an art student on exchange in Prague.

But no, obviously the universe isn’t on her side because Oliver spots her immediately and his stupid smirk gets wider as he heads towards her.

“I was wondering how long it would take A.R.G.U.S to finally get here,” Felicity teases in a voice more confident than she feels when he steps before her, “What? Thought you’d sneak in another round with a pretty little something before you decide to do your job?”

“Something like that.” Oliver retorts casually, eyes sparkling with mirth, “What about you? Did you beg Daddy to continue on the case so you could come back to the City of Love?”

Felicity huffs and rolls her eyes before replying with a childish comeback, “No. Damien Darhk, founder of H.I.V.E, put his best agent out on the field. Thank you very much.”

Before she can stop the terrifying word vomit, she adds, “And yes, I may have wanted to see the Eiffel Tower again. It’s romantic. Sue me! I can’t even believe I told you that years ago, it was the end of a case and I was tire-”

“Fe-lic-ity,” he interrupts, chuckling deeply, “I’m guessing Lance is still busy with the LoA then?”

Ugh. Even his laugh is attractive.

“Where’s Harper? Finally realised that you’re a good for nothing partner?” she sassily asks, proud that she got a shot in. Yay. Go her.

Oliver eyes soften as he reaches out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder, and softly says, “Felicity, Waller put him in undercover as one of The Count’s minions to try to stop the Vertigo outburst. He might be in for a while.”

Even though, she and Oliver have this weird you-annoy-me-because-you’re-from-the-other-team-but-secretly-I-think-you’re-sexy rivalry going on, Felicity and Roy Harper had formed a close friendship over the years from constantly bumping into each other on missions.

“Oh,” she says quietly, ducking her head as her eyes start to water. Concerned blue eyes meet hers as Oliver’s thumb starts to rub soothing circles on her shoulder. “I just had some exciting news to tell him.”

“I’m sure I can find a way to pass it along.” Oliver says with a reassuring smile.

And that’s when Felicity feels everything around them slow down, and it’s like a damn romantic comedy movie where the couple just stare at each other, conveying everything they feel with a look. She feels herself being pulled to him like a magnet, her face just millimeters away from his.

She can’t do this, she shouldn’t do this but Lord knows she wants to.

Luckily, for some reason, Oliver pulls back a little and his ridiculous playboy act is back in full swing as he whispers teasingly, “Oh, please don’t tell me that you left another poor guy broken hearted again.”

He nods to the extremely big and shiny ring that sits on a very particular finger, on a very particular hand.

“Frack!” she breathes, as she looks down to see the very expensive and gorgeous ring. She must have forgotten to take it off before getting dressed tonight. She mimics his words from before as Felicity mumbles to herself, “Something like that.”

A beat passes as she pulls away, making sure there’s at least a foot between them.

“Uh, um. It was for a side mission,” Felicity explains. Hoping to hell that Oliver believes it as she slides it off.

Because that’s just what she needs right now. A scandal. The spy world will totally love that the little angel Felicity Smoak, heir to H.I.V.E, is allegedly getting involved with the infamous Agent Oliver Queen.

Oliver is looking at her with an unreadable expression but he quickly changes to business mode.

“So Smoak, are you going to tell me what H.I.V.E knows about Derek Wolfe that A.R.G.U.S doesn’t?”

Like she’s going to hand that golden nugget over just because they nearly – well barely nearly kissed.

She laughs as she leans into him closely, placing one hand on his shoulder while the other barely hovers over his hip, feeling his muscles jump at her touch.

“Rumor has it that Wolfe is here tonight, in the flesh.” Felicity hotly whispers into his ear.

Yeah, okay. Maybe she did hand over the golden nugget after all. Who can blame her? She is pretty sure his handsome face alone could will her into giving him H.I.V.E top secrets. At least she didn’t let him know that Wolfe was there to make a trade with a dealer.

A dealer that happens to be her. You know, undercover and all that.

And with that, she walks away with a secret smile as she watches Oliver stand there, mouth gaping and stumbling to find his phone in his pocket to most likely call the lead in, but instead of finding his phone, he pulls out her ring.

Felicity winks as she dangles his phone in the air before disappearing into the crowd.


Derek Wolfe is the stereotypical definition of sleazy: scrawny, slicked back hair and wearing a suit that is one size too big. Oh, did she mention the smug look on his face as if he thinks she might jump him at any given moment?

As if, dude.

It takes all of Felicity’s effort to not shudder whenever she looks at him. Knowing that her dad is in the shadows, just in case he does get a little handsy, puts her at ease.

They start the deal as she pulls out the fake Mona Lisa. She rolls her eyes at the sight, it’s one inch bigger than the original and the brush stokes are oh so wrong. Any proper art gallery would know in an instant it’s a fake but she plays along.

Right in the middle of the cash exchange, they hear a thump coming from the other end of the warehouse that is stacked with boxes, and definitely not in the same area of her dad.

Deep down, she knows it’s him because he’s the best tracker in the business and he’s got this annoying tendency for not leaving her the damn alone like he should. But Felicity still prays, oh how she prays hard, that Oliver Queen does not come stumbling out from behind those boxes.

Oh look at that, Oliver Queen does come out stumbling. With his gun a-blazing.


Felicity doesn’t really know what happens next. She does know that one of Wolfe’s men pushes her over so that she whacks her head on the concrete floor before everything turns to black.

When she comes to, her head thumps and her eyelids are heavy. Like they’re stapled shut or something. She considers falling back into unconsciousness, but napping on the job isn’t appreciated like it should be. Imagine how much morale would rise if they let people nap for a bit? Maybe she’ll start a petition.

She shouldn’t be thinking about this as Felicity feels a presence hover above her. It’s speaking, and she knows that deep, husky voice all too well.

Ugh. Oliver Queen. Why is he here again? Oh, that’s right. He busted her deal with Wolfe.  She frowns at that.

Seriously, why couldn’t he just find his own lead? She’s going to kill him when she wakes up from this nap… a couple more minutes won’t hurt.

Then Felicity hears her dad, and she smiles.

Ha, her father will do her dirty work and punch Oliver right in his ridiculously beautiful face.

But no, Damien Darhk is sounding very much amused.

“Queen, if you’re about to declare your undying love for my daughter, would you please hold off until I’m as far away as possible? Because, son, this isn’t going to end well for you.” She hears her dad say.

Oh dear god, Oliver Jonas Queen, please do not open your mouth right now.

“Felicity, honey. Please wake up. Please, for me?” Oliver says softly, voice laced with fear.

And there it is.

Oliver freaking Queen has called her ‘honey’ and begged her to wake up in front of the paramedics, the French police, H.I.V.E and A.R.G.U.S agents and God knows who else.

Technically he just called her an endearment, and friends call each other those, right? Screw it, the spy world has basically called that they’re together ever since they’ve met. She desperately wants to crawl into his arms and never leave but she’s still pretty mad about the whole Wolfe thing.

So she thinks now is a good time to shoot up into a sitting position and start yelling.

“What were you thinking Oliver? I nearly had him! Did Waller put you up to this? Honestly, that woman is the devil.”

Oliver gently cups her cheek, stroking his thumb along the side of her face as he tells her, “Yes, Waller did send me to find out what you knew. But I followed you because I got a feeling that you were up to something and I was worried about you going in without backup.”

Before she could reply, a paramedic is dragging her up and into an ambulance, muttering in French while she looks over her shoulder to see Oliver is still kneeling with a longing look on his face.


It’s a little past three when Felicity finds herself in jeans and one of Oliver’s hoodies, standing on the first level of the Eiffel Tower and looking over the city’s lights. She feels the air behind her change.

She smiles as a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, and she leans back into his broad chest, resting her hands on his forearms in front of her.

“Hey baby,” Oliver says while pressing a small kiss on the side of her neck, “how did you get up here after hours?”

She giggles as she boasts, “Hacked the automatic gate and the elevators. You?”

“Jumped the fence and climbed the stairs.” Oliver places another kiss on her temple.

Felicity turns in his arms and loops her arms around his neck to pull him down for a quick kiss. When they separate, Oliver cups the back of her head and threads his fingers through her hair where a large bump is forming and massages it.

“Are you okay?” he asks, using the soft tender voice that Felicity claims as hers.

She nods into his neck and murmurs “Yeah I’m fine. Sorry I yelled. I know you get worried and I appreciate it but I knew what I was doing. Plus, I was having a bad day. I was missing you. I just found out about Roy. And Dad’s having trouble getting your transfer files from Waller. It’s going to be ten times worse now seeing it’s out that we’re together.”

Small puffs of air hit her head when Oliver speaks, “I’m sorry too, it’s in my nature to worry about you, but I know you’re very capable taking care of yourself. I missed you too, I always miss you. Let me deal with Waller, okay?”

They hug in silence for a few moments before Felicity pulls back to look up at him, her eyebrow raised.

“Wait, how did you find me?” she questions.

“Felicity, this is our spot remember? I did propose to you here.” Oliver laughs with his own eyebrow raised, before pulling out the ring she left him with and gently grabbing her hand to slide the ring home, “Which reminds me, how many times do I have to give this ring back to you? I swear you wear it on missions deliberately. This is the fifth time since I’ve proposed last month.”

This time it’s Felicity who laughs wholeheartedly as she lifts up on her toes to lean in and kiss Oliver soundly, “One more time won’t hurt.”

Olicity drabble~ The Sort-Of Anniversary

AN: Here’s a little fluffy, drabble that takes place less than a year post-3x01. Enjoy!

The Sort-Of Anniversary

“Felicity?” Oliver called out as he dropped his set of house keys on the entry way table that he and Felicity picked up at a thrift store one weekend.

It was his and Felicity’s three month ‘sort-of anniversary,’ which is what Felicity called it, and she had ordered him out of the hours for at least two hours while she prepared. She said that they were only dating – so three months was hardly a milestone – but they had had feelings for each other for longer than that, so they should be doing something. Plus their real first date was just shy of twelve months ago, so it could work.

Felicity offered to make him a surprise meal as long as he picked up dessert for them to enjoy after dinner.  A series of suggestive winks and eyebrow raises later, Oliver cracked a smile at his girlfriend’s antics. It had become their thing – her trying to make him smile, while he made a show of fighting it – Roy found it annoying, but she found it adorable.

“Hey, your knight in shining leather brought home the good stuff,” Oliver called out as he glanced down at the carton of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream in his hand while he rounded the corner into their small kitchen.

He had expected to see Felicity in her high heels, and that purple dress with the cut outs that he liked so much, working hard on their sort-of anniversary dinner. He predicted that she would try to shoo him out of the kitchen before grabbing the ice cream to toss in the freezer. She had been secretive about this dinner for two weeks now, which was oddly suspicious seeing as house she refused to let him call it anything but a sort-of anniversary.

He hadn’t prepared himself to see Felicity sprawled out on the kitchen floor with red stained along the side of her face, her stomach, and pooling on the floor below her as she writhed on the floor in pain.

“Felicity!” The ice cream fell from his hands, long forgotten, as he took two bounding steps to her side. “Felicity, oh god,” He cried as he slid to his knees, already performing a visual inspection for the wound.

As his knees hit the tile floor he noticed Felicity gasping, and trying to bring her hands to her face.

She must be going into shock, he thought to himself. How could this have happened? How could anyone get into the apartment? The security system made this the safest place in all of Starling City, aside from the lair.

“Felicity-“ He was cut off, his hands going to her face. As Oliver wiped the loose strand of blonde-red hair from her eyes he realized that Felicity was laughing, not in pain.

“Fe-lic-ity?” Oliver drew out as he caught the scent of tomatoes and garlic in the air before he turned to examine the stove top which was covered in the same red liquid as Felicity and the floor.

“Oh my god,” Felicity gasped as she tried to sit up. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find me in here.”

Oliver looked around the kitchen again and noticed the cans of tomato sauce and paste strewn atop the granite countertops; one was tipped on its side with its contents dripping to the floor.

“What happened?” Oliver asked slowly as Felicity righted herself into a seated position, the laughter had begun to die down as she wiped at her sauce covering her face to see her sort-of boyfriend.

“I really am so sorry that you got scared,” Felicity told him as she reached out to cup his cheek before cursing herself for getting sauce on his face. “I was trying to recreate our first date with a happier ending, which I guess seeing me on the floor like that didn’t exactly help, oh god I’m such an idiot … and a klutz, and I am so, so sorry – I hacked into the restaurant where we went that first night and found their sauce recipe that they claimed was from the ‘Old Country’ and a super-secret family recipe that they would take to their graves – which is why when I called and asked nicely for it they told me no, which I found that the sauce totally isn’t from the Old Country, by the way …” Felicity gestured her hands in multiple directions as she regaled him with her story.

“Anyway I found the recipe and I was going to make this super romantic dinner with breadsticks and homemade pasta and sauce, and the stupid can exploded -“ Felicity was halted by Oliver’s finger covering her mouth.

“Are you ok?” Oliver slowly asked, still trying to catch up to where Felicity was now.

Felicity nodded, Oliver’s finger holding still on her lips. Oliver exhaled a deep breath before letting himself fall to the floor next to Felicity, his arms bracing his weight behind him.

The kitchen counters were covered with tomato sauce while the floor had three distinct splatter marks. Oliver was pretty sure he saw some on the walls leading into the living room as well, but the majority of the can was covering the left side of Felicity – starting at her hair line and stopping at her feet.

He had to admit that as ideas went for a romantic evening it was a pretty great one. Their first date had been terrible and traumatic for both of them. A happier ending to that first night might have saved them eight months of denying their feelings, and hundreds of dollars on practice dummies.

“So you really hacked an Italian restaurant just for a recipe?” Oliver asked with a smile as he turned to face her.

“They were totally asking for it, I didn’t even break a sweat on the firewalls,” she returned his grin with a light laugh.

Oliver laughed before leaning over and cupping her clean cheek with his hand while his lips moved to graze her own. It was a light kiss that barely lingered on her lips before he brought his up to lightly drop a kiss to her nose.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered as he let their foreheads meet.