sigh at this lint

Riju: “Buliara, why couldn’t the sand seal get anything out of her pockets?”
Buliara: “Sand seals don’t have pockets–”
Riju: “Because they were stuck shut with seal-lint!!”
Buliara: … *sighs*

Headcanon: Riju repeats all of Patricia’s terrible seal puns to Buliara. Buliara only pretends not to love them because she thinks laughing would undermine her reputation as an unflappably stoic bodyguard.

soul to keep, ch. 5

summary: marinette dupain-cheng is no stranger to unusual situations. a ghost wandering into her bedroom and pulling her into the mystery of who he was and how he died, however, is a touch out of the ordinary for her–and falling in love with him might just take the cake. ghost!adrien au.

genre: romance with equal parts (hopefully) humor and angst

cross-posted: ao3

previous: i | ii | iii | iv

v.

“So,” Marinette said, tapping her pen against her chin as she whirled around in her desk chair. “First, we do some research. Here’s what we know.”

Sunlight filtered through the windows of Marinette’s bedroom. This was the first time that Chat had come to visit her during the daytime. He had done so on Marinette’s request; she felt that they had a lot of work to do in the next couple of weeks if they were going to introduce him to Alya and Nino without looking crazy or terrifying, or both.

“We need to figure out how you work.” Marinette began to jot notes down on her notepad as she thought out loud. “You can walk through things. And appear and disappear. Is that right?”

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Misunderstandings (Gray)

Title: Misunderstandings (Requested by @aomgrayground)

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 740

~~

A long sigh left your lips as you sat down in the break room of the hospital. Since 5 am you’ve been on the go at the hospital, being one of the top doctors meant that there was very little time to rest.

You closed your eyes and leaned back on the sofa. You hoped that the next patient wasn’t for another hour.. or three. The ringing of your phone, unfortunately, cut your nap short. The name that popped up instantly brought a smile to your face.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hi, how’s your day so far?” You sighed and started picking at the lint on your jacket.

“Eh, same old same old. Treating patients left and right what about you?”

“ Eh, same old same old. Making music” You shook your head slightly at him mocking you.

“Hey babe I was thinking, how about I cook us a special dinner and we can spend the rest of the evening together?”

“Sorry baby, I have to get this beat done for Jay by 12 tonight. Can we do the dinner some other time?” You sighed and a small frown set on your face.

“Yeah we can do that, I-”

Seonghwa cut you off before you could finish answering his question “Thanks, babe I’ll call you late”

“Ok.”

The line went dead leaving you a little sad that he was in such a rush. You haven’t spent some quality time with Seonghwa in weeks so you hoped that he would be for the dinner date, but of course, work comes first. 

You got up and went back into your office waiting for another patient. After your last patient, you hung up your coat and got in your car racing home.

You finally got home and changed into your pajamas as soon as you walked into your room. You scrolled on Instagram mindlessly until you saw a picture of Seonghwa and Jessi at the club.

All the frustration you had building up suddenly turned into anger, obviously hanging out with Jessi at the club is not working on music and was much more important than having a dinner date with you. 

You texted Seonghwa to not come home, and he could stay at Jay’s apartment for the night. You turned off your phone and went to sleep. The next morning you woke up to an arm wrapped around your waist.

You rolled your eyes and pushed Seonghwa off of you and went downstairs. You plopped on the couch and watched tv to pass the time. Moments later Seonghwa came downstairs and turned the tv off.

“I was watching that you know.” 

“You were watching Dora? Ok Y/N. Seriously what’s wrong with you? You told me to sleep at Jay’s last night and you only tell me that when you’re mad at me.”

“You told me you couldn’t have dinner with me because you were working, but then I see you at the club with Jessi! So yes I was pissed off last night. You couldn’t come home for a dinner date, but you can go out to the club.”

Seonghwa sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Baby I didn’t know it was a dinner date I thought it was a regular dinner and that’s why I said I couldn’t be there and let’s do it another time. The whole club situation, Jay took me out of the studio so I can let loose, and I ran into Jessi and we took a picture for Instagram. That’s it nothing else. I’m sorry Y/N, I’ll make it up to you tonight it’ll be just us two no work, no phones, just us.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek softly. “I like that idea, and I’m sorry for overreacting.” 

Seonghwa waved it off and hugged you tightly. “How about we get this date started early?”

“Last one to the bathroom has to make dinner tonight!” You got up and ran up the stairs as fast as you could without falling. 

“Ya! Y/N get back here!”

Originally posted by ilsanflower

Ok, so it’s been a while because exams kicked my butt! I’m back to writing scenarios so I have two more in my drafts and I need more!

Requests are always open, request away!

“Hold this, will you?” said the old woman, standing up. “Over your thumbs, young man. It won’t take a moment for me to wind a fresh ball. I was hoping someone would drop by.”
She held out a skein of wool.
The robber took it uncertainly, aware of the grins on the faces of his men. But he opened his arms with what he hoped was a suitably evil little-does-she-suspect look on his face.
“That’s right.” said the old woman, standing back. She kicked him viciously in the groin in an incredibly efficient if unladylike way, reached down as he toppled, caught up the cauldron, flung it accurately at the face of the first henchman, and picked up her knitting before he fell.
The two surviving robbers hadn’t had time to move, but the one unfroze and leapt for the sword. He staggered back under its weight, but the blade was long and reassuring.
“Aha!” he said, and grunted as he raised the sword. “How the hell did you carry this, old woman?”
“It’s not my sword,” she said. “It belonged to the man over there.”
The man risked a look sideways. A pair of feet in armored sandals were just visible behind a rock. They were very big feet.
But I’ve got a weapon, he thought. And then he thought: so did he.
The old woman sighed and drew two knitting needles from the ball of wool. The light linted on them, and the blanket slid away from her shoulders and fell on to the snow.
“Well, gentlemen?” she said.

– Vena the Raven-Haired | Terry Pratchett, The Last Hero

Sideways: Part 4 (Final)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [On AO3]

The Galran vessel was a raucous place. Whenever they hit hyperdrive, the excess air would strike the vents at an odd angle, and the sound would rattle down the halls like birdsong. If Shiro pressed his ear to the floor, he could hear the electric clicks downstairs, the frizzle of quintessence as energy shot up and and down the ship’s nervous system. Some days the whole ship pulsed like the neck of a great beast.

The Castle of Lions feels dead by contrast. The quiet stings.

Team Voltron gathers outside Shiro’s room to argue. Shiro can make out an undercurrent of tension through the door. The barest crumbs of conversation reach him; he catches words like table scraps, but they don’t fit together out of context.

Shiro’s hands flex against his cuffs. He sits at the rear of his bed, cross-legged, each wrist cuffed to a separate bedpost. It’s only a dream, but every time a crew member looks through the window on his door, Shiro’s heart sinks.

At last the door opens. Light from the hallway yellows the outlines of Shiro’s furniture, the stream broken by Keith’s shadow. It’s a familiar sight, by now—Keith’s body, black against the glare of a hallway light. In time, the door slides shut behind Keith, and the light gets swept away like a patch of dust. Keith’s face becomes visible. He still hasn’t had time to change out of his armor. Someone gave him a pad for his cheek—an Altean bandaid of sorts. There’s a spot of dried blood under his chin.

Keith’s eyes find Shiro’s, as they always do. He’s never been one to look away.

“You should get to a pod,” Shiro suggests.

Keith won’t bite. “I need to take off your arm.“

Keith looks at Shiro like he dares him to put up a fight. Shiro only lifts his right arm. The cuff snags on his wrist, and a hum of magnetic energy tickles his skin.

“There’s a little hatch near the elbow,” Shiro says, “and then a screen under that, with a passcode…”

Keith’s shoulders lower by degrees. The dark room turns his eyes to slate. Keith steps forward. He drags a chair over from Shiro’s empty desk—plunks down beside Shiro’s bed. Runs his hands through his hair once, like he can shake the tension out of the room. Then he reaches for Shiro’s arm.

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Show and Tell

Submitted by trulycas

Prompt: Superheroes

Round 2.9: Show and Tell vs. Fire

Sam didn’t like going to school.

At least, not when he was younger- six, to be exact. Wide-eyed, wild-haired, mouth always running and hands constantly tugging on Dean’s sleeve for some sliver of attention. That’s where he always wanted to be- by Dean’s side. Not in the midst of a swarm of high voices and accusing looks and giggles hidden behind palms.

He couldn’t be with his big brother when he was at school. Couldn’t hear his warm voice or count the explosion of freckles falling across his cheeks after Dad grumbled that he was “too busy” to play a game. It was always, “Class, this is Sam.” “Where have you been, Sam?” “Where’d you get that bruise, Sam?”

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Sometimes I script comics that I find too frustrating to draw and even more frustrating to attempt to make ficlettes out of. But the ideas still make me chuckle and want to share, so here are two little script-scenes. Both fairly Obi-Wan-centric, as it happens.

1. At a decently-dressy event, Anakin finds himself covered in some kind of debris. Padme attempts to brush it off, sighing that what they really need is a lint roller. Anakin turns to Obi-Wan and holds his hand out. With an offended huff, Obi-Wan asks, “Oh, so it’s my life’s duty to just follow you around, prepared to clean up your messes, is it?” Anakin continues to stare him down, palm open. Obi-Wan huffs even louder, and produces a mini lint roller from an inside jacket pocket.  

2. Obi-Wan is giving a lesson at school. Ahsoka taps her pencil lightly against her desk, bored. In the seat next to her, Tup is scrutinizing Mr. Kenobi with an unsure and slightly embarrassed expression. Ahsoka glances over, takes note, and whispers, “Sup, Tup?” He shakes his head, but she keeps pestering him with pokes and whispers. Not wanting to get in trouble for horsing around, he finally mutters back, “That sweater. I’m, um… I’m pretty sure it’s my brother’s.” Delighted, Ahsoka’s face splits open in a grin as she loudly replies, “Oh REALLY!” Mr. Kenobi’s voice floats from the front of the class: “If you have a question, Ms. Tano, kindly raise your hand.” Her hand shoots into the air, and Tup scrambles to yank it back down.

Triwizard Tournament (Carry On Countdown Dec 10th)

I love the Harry Potter series but i haven’t read the books in a while so I apologize for any inaccuracies. I don’t mean to imply that Baz is Cedric btw, I would never kill off Baz (wouldn’t have killed off Cedric either tho). Hope you enjoy! @carryon-countdown

Simon

The Triwizard Tournament seemed overrated to him. He watched glumly as students pushed past one another to put their names in the goblet. Penny was reading a book beside him and ignored them all.
“I just don’t get it Penny. Why do they all want to risk their lives?”
She shrugged. “Fame, adventure, I don’t know Simon.”
Simon’s shoulder’s sagged. “They don’t even realize what they’re getting themselves into.”
Penny set her book aside and looked at him.
“This isn’t the humdrum. They’re going to be safe.”
Agatha stepped lightly around all the students clamoring to put their names in the goblet of fire.
As she sat beside the two of them she huffed in annoyance.
“This is barbaric.”
Penny studied her girlfriend and rolled her eyes.
“Babe, your tie is hopeless.”
Agatha sat patiently as Penny re-did Agatha’s Slytherin green tie. Simon smirked at the two of them, a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw together, who would’ve thought.
At that thought another Slytherin student entered the room. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, his enemy, slinked towards the goblet of fire and slipped his name in. He did so in a mild manner, nothing like the gaudy displays the other students were doing. Simon knew it was stupid but he had to say something.
“Baz!” He stormed over to him.
The sleek boy turned. His raven hair was slicked back and severe as usual and his eyes were as cold as grey ice.
“Yes Snow?”
Simon glared at him.
“Why would you put your name in? You could die out there.”
Baz studied his face.
“And you care because?”
Simon frowned. “Well I…don’t care. But you should. You’ve been around when the humdrum attacks. You’re not like the others, you understand what real danger is.”
Baz flicked an invisible piece of lint of his uniform and sighed.
“Look. You know who my family is right? Did you think they would be okay with me ignoring this whole competition?”
Simon hadn’t thought of that.
Baz continued, “It’s a silly competition where students are considering giving their lives away, and for what? So they can get five minutes of fame.”
Simon felt his anger fade away.
“But you have to do it. Because of your family.”
Baz nodded and grimaced.
“Snow it’s been nice and all but I’ve got to go. I’d rather not have people think I’m friends with a Gryffindor.”
Simon watched as Baz walked away from him. He often wished he could rip the Gryffindor name off his back. It came with a million expectations, that he would be great and achieve wonders, that he could defeat the humdrum, and that he would eventually kill Baz. He wanted none of those things. And to think the sorting hat had given him a chance to be in Hufflepuff, but he hadn’t listened, he had insisted on Gryffindor. Anything to impress Headmaster David.

Baz

“Basilton Grimm-Pitch!” the Headmaster’s voice rang out clear as day.
Baz rose and walked confidently, pretending for all the world that he wanted this. Throughout the entire ceremony he watched as people from other schools celebrated their champions. He wanted to scream at them that they were being stupid, taking the whole thing too lightly. But he had to pretend; after all he wasn’t doing this for himself.
He had told Snow that he was doing this for his family. That had been partially true, they definitely expected him to put his name in. But he could have resisted them. Baz had really done it as a safeguard. He hoped that by putting his name in it was one more option for the goblet to pick over Snow.
He pasted on a smile as the Headmaster congratulated him and sent him away to sit with the other champions. He had a feeling that if Snow competed, he would die. There was no way to explain it other than his own intuition. Baz couldn’t stand that idea and he had been relieved when Snow made it clear he wouldn’t be participating.
After a couple of minutes a stunned looking Snow entered the room. He looked shocked and wary. Baz rose and walked over to him.
“What are you doing?” He hissed.
Snow glanced up at him, fear written across his face.
“Someone put my name in.”
Baz felt his body recoil.
“That’s not possible.”
Snow ran his hands through his thick curls. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked thinner than usual.
“Well I didn’t do it. So somebody had to.”
Baz snarled and walked away from him. He had done what he could to prevent this and it had still happened. Hell, Snow had even done his best to prevent this. But it hadn’t mattered. Simon Snow, the boy Baz was in love with, was going to compete in the Triwizard Tournament whether he liked it or not.
“Baz.”
He turned back to him.
“Baz, what am I going to do?”
Baz gritted his teeth.
“What you always do, Snow. You’re going to survive.”
Snow’s face was a swirl of misery and fear.
“How Baz? Wizards die in these competitions. Regular wizards. If the humdrum attacks during an event…”
Baz clenched his fists and made a decision. Maybe he was expected to act like he hated Snow but this was different. Snow’s life was on the line. Even if the other boy didn’t feel the same way, Baz would fight to protect him.
“You’re going to make it because I’ll help you.”
Snow’s eyes widened. “What?
“I’ll help you live through this, okay? We’ll get through it together. Deal?”
He held out his hand to Snow tentatively. Snow looked at his outstretched hand warily but lifted his own. They shook hands slowly.
Snow looked Baz in the eye.
“Deal.”

Family

This is just a little thing I wrote based on the new information that Karin is a member of the Uzumaki clan. There are surprisingly few fics about them, and I crave their interaction, so this is the result. It takes place like a day after the war. 

Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Karin Uzumaki

Pairings: None. 

Words: 1,271 

Note: I apologize if any of the characters are OOC. I’m not really used to writing for this fandom yet. Also, the ending. It might be a little disjointed, so I apologize ahead of time for that. I don’t believe in character bashing, so if you don’t like Karin (which for some reason is the majority of the fandom), then please don’t read or reblog this just to bash her.

Karin huffed as the guy next to her sucked her chakra. She was running low, but she couldn’t stop yet .Normally, she probably would’ve just ran away while everyone else was distracted, but she didn’t really have anywhere to go, so she figured if she healed some of their folk, they would see that she was on their side and not arrest her.

She made her way to the next guy and as she was about to offer her services, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” a husky, warm voice stopped her. She jumped from the sudden contact, but relaxed slightly when she saw that her speaker had spiky blond hair.

“What do you want?” she demanded warily. “Come to take me back as a prisoner? I’m healing your friends, so the least you could do is let me go.” She watched as his face scrunched up in confusion.

“Huh? What do you mean?” he asked, cocking his head. “I was just going to tell you to take a break. You look terrible,” he stated bluntly.

She twitched. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” she screeched.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he backtracked, fear written all over his face which actually gave her a bit of satisfaction

“Oh really?” she demanded, “Then what did you mean?”

“I-I just meant that you looked tired, ‘ttabayo! We just got out of a war, so you shouldn’t push yourself,” he finished, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. She looked at him curiously, the crimson orbs narrowing slightly in confusion.

“Why do you even care?” she scoffed, although due to her fatigue, she just ended up sounding drained. “I’m not a part of your team.”

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anonymous asked:

Namjoon scenario where you two are dating but since you almost never see each other its like your not dating? so one day you ask your friend [on the phone] what you should do but he hears it?<3

Sorry, this is insanely long, but I was really feeling it while writing. XD Enjoy!


Originally posted by jeonsshi

say it isn’t over - rap monster x you

word count: 2,037

warning: mild swearing [ one or two swear words XD ]

“I don’t know what to do,” You sighed over the phone, leaning your back against the closed door as you slid down, sitting on the floor with your knees touching your chest. You were in the Bangtan dorm, getting something for Yoongi; he had forgotten to pack his hard drive again.

“About Namjoon?” Your friend, Shin Ah, said with a sigh of her own.

“Yeah,” You muttered, picking lint off of your leggings.

“He still hasn’t contacted you yet? Hasn’t it been nearly a month already?”

“Over,” You dryly answered, not wanting to talk about it, but wanting to talk about it at the same time. Shin Ah was your only form of comfort these days, ever since Namjoon became completely focused on his idol duties.

A part of you knew you were being selfish and a little greedy. By forcing him to stay by your side even when he was busy meant that you could be preventing him from growing as an idol and an artist, and you didn’t want that. You were so proud of him for reaching the stage in his life he was in right now, so proud of him for staying strong as the leader of Bangtan, but it was honestly so hard for you to cope with all the side effects and the aftermath.

What made the absence of Namjoon even more difficult to you was the fact that you had known this would eventually happen when you had started dating him. It had been your biggest fear, that Namjoon would gradually lose his head into making music and slowly forget about you. How could it not have been your biggest fear, when all you felt was doubt? When all you heard were the whispers around you that already talked about your break up, the voices of fans that disapproved of your relationship with him? You had gotten so much hate and was getting so much these days that it was starting to take a toll on you physically, emotionally, and mentally.

It hurt.

It really did.

And you didn’t know what to do to make yourself feel better.

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snnowfrostt  asked:

You are taking Olicity prompts?? Can I suggestion, Olicity stuck in a bedroom alone with no anyway + things got heated + they confess their feelings + Diggle/Detective Lance got them in action

(After writing this I realized you had specified that they were stuck in a bedroom. I’m sorry! And fair warning: SO MANY FEELS IN THIS ONE.)

“I don’t understand why you’re still trying,” Oliver sighed, picking at a piece of lint on his sweater. He watched as Felicity tried the door one more time, anchoring her foot against the wall. 

Thanks to an anonymous tip to SCPD about a bomb threat, Queen Consolidated’s employees evacuated the building in record time. However, thanks to Oliver’s dad’s security protocols, the CEO is supposed to be locked in a panic room built into the basement of the building. Felicity had been with him at the time, and the two were ushered into the panic room as quickly as possible. As it turns out, the entire event was a facade to try to break into the QC Applied Sciences department. Diggle, as head of Oliver’s security, was outside working with SCPD to get to the bottom of the ordeal. 

“I don’t understand why I had to get locked in here,” She muttered, banging her fist against the door. “Last time I checked, this panic room is for Queen Consolidated’s CEO. And I am not Queen Consolidated’s CEO.”

“Is it honestly that bad?” He smirked, folding his arms.

“Oh, no!” She turned quickly. He was sitting against the south wall, his legs stretched out in front of him. “I didn’t mean it like that, Oliver. If I was stuck in some heavily padded panic room, there’s no one I’d rather be trapped with than- Not that I’ve thought about being trapped in a panic room with you, it’s just - well, it wasn’t really a panic room that I imagined- Wow. Shutting up in three.. Two… One.”

She made a zipping motion with her hand across her lips, and even threw away an imaginary key. Oliver laughed and shook his head.

“The least my father could’ve done is put some games in here,” He muttered, looking into the plastic bin beside him.

“Or wifi,” She muttered.

“Let’s see, we’ve got cans of food, a can opener, some blankets, a flashlight, some water, some medical supplies… And that’s it. Nothing else,” He sighed. “Way to go, Dad.”

“Well, we could just… talk?”

“Talk about what?” He asked, tossing the items back into the bin.

“Um, I don’t know. How was your day?” She shrugged.

“Felicity, you handle my CEO schedule- you know exactly what my day’s like.”

“Fine. What about-”

“Are you still dating that Brody kid?” He cocked his head.

“Wow, that’s what you wanna talk about? Um, okay then. I wouldn’t necessarily say I was ‘dating’ him- Oh don’t you look at me that way!" 

He held up his hands defensively. “What way?”

"That-that eyebrow thing you do! You have no right to judge me, Oliver Queen. May I remind you of the one, two, three-” She began counting on her fingers then gave up. “Of the countless amount of girls you’ve slept with? And that’s only counting the ones I know about!”

“I didn’t mean to imply anything, Felicity. I was simply reacting to your dating of Brody, that’s all.”

“Yeah, okay,” She snorted, lowering herself down to sit opposite him. A moment later she muttered, “At least he means the things he says.”

“Excuse me?" 

"Nothing,” She shook her head. 

“No, please. Enlighten me.” He challenged.

“Oh, come off it, Oliver. You know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s been- what? Four months since we stopped Slade’s attack? And I get that you’re not the kind of person to talk about your feelings, but it’s been four months! Surely you realize you can’t just drop something like that to me and expect me to not have some sort of response to it.”

“You told me you’d understood,” He whispered, looking down. 

“And I did- I do! But I was expecting some kind of shift in our relationship. Not-not that we have that kind of a relationship. You know what I mean.”

"I’m sorry. Felicity, I-”

“Save it, Oliver. Okay? I don’t want you to talk about it now if I’m forcing you to talk about it.”

“You’re not. Just let me get this out,” He crossed the space between them and sighed as he took the seat beside her. “Felicity, you could always tell when I’m lying to you. It’s one of the things I quite enjoy, and at times kind of dislike, about you. That night, Sara told me that if I wanted to beat Slade - if I wanted to beat the unthinkable - then I had to have been willing to do the unthinkable. And at that moment, there was nothing more unthinkable for me to do than to knowingly put someone I care about in danger.”

“Why not Sara?”

“Because Slade already gave me a chance to choose Sara- back at the island. I had to choose between her and Shado, remember? I chose her, so Slade knew I already cared for her. That’s why he didn’t go after her in the first place.”

“Please, we both know it’s because Sara can take care of herself,” She snorted. “Even Laurel. They’re both stronger than me, Oliver. Admit it. We could’ve given Laurel the antidote and she could’ve stuck that stupid syringe into him herself." 

"Knowing Slade, he would have made me choose,” He explained. “The night he killed my mother? He made me choose between her and Thea. I-I couldn’t choose, Felicity, so my mother made the choice. And that’s when I realized he was going to make me choose again. His original plan was for me to choose between two of the things I care about: Laurel or the city. And remember? You were the one who told me to make him out-think me.”

“Oh, great. So this is my own fault,” She scoffed. 

“No, it’s not,” She looked down as he wrapped his hand around hers. “You made me realize that I could force Slade to change his plan, without him realizing what I was planning. So yes, at the mansion, I knew he was watching. And to be honest, I was hoping you’d give me an out and back out of the plan. When I told you to stay, I knew you wouldn’t give in without a reason. I know you, Felicity Smoak, and I know that you wouldn’t have stayed in that mansion just by my say so. You needed a reason.”

“So you gave me one,” She blinked.

“I did. I told you.. those words in hopes that Slade would have heard our conversation. I hoped that Slade realized his mistake of capturing the wrong woman, thereby realizing that he had to capture you too. I made him think that the choice he had to give me was going to be between you and Laurel. And I swear to you, Felicity, that it killed me inside to say those words to you because you didn’t deserve to find out that way. You deserve much better.”

“You lied to get him to fall for the trap. Okay. Are we done now?” She asked, a tear threatened at the corner of her eye.

“I didn’t lie!” Lifting a hand, he cupped her cheek. “Felicity. You’ve heard me lie. A laptop with bullet holes because my coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood? A sports drink in a syringe because I ran out of sports bottles? You saw through those lies the moment they left my mouth. I can’t lie, not to you. So I did what I had to in order for you to realize I wasn’t lying- I told you the truth.”

“Oliver-”

“No, stop. You waited four months for this conversation, right? Well here it is. It may have seemed like a lie, Felicity, but it wasn’t. I can never lie to you. I told you the truth that night, and it’s been killing me inside every day you think it was a lie. And once again, you’re right: I don’t talk about my feelings. I don’t like to. But somehow, with you, I can. But it’s the hardest damn thing I’ve ever had to do because it’s you that I’m talking to. You can tell when I’m lying and when I’m telling the truth, so the walls I’ve worked so hard at building up don’t exist when it comes to you. And what you said before? About Sara and Laurel being stronger than you? You couldn’t be more wrong. You’re the strongest person I know. You’re stronger than anyone, because you’re my weakness,” He took his other hand and cupped her other cheek, forcing her to look at him. “I did not lie to you that night, Felicity. I love you.”

The moment he said it her lips crashed against his. Tears were flowing down her face, her hair sticky on her cheeks. They fought for dominance, both neither caring who was winning. One hand was around his torso, pulling him closer, while the other cupped his face. One of his hands lowered to her waist, pulling her over him. 

She panted as he pulled her cardigan off, her own hands working to tug at his sweater. Once they were finally off and somewhere on the floor, she got to work on his button down shirt. His quick fingers tugged at her top, breaking their kiss to pull it off.

"Oliver,” She sighed, his lips nibbling on her neck. Oliver grunted as her fingers pulled his shirt off him, and he fought to remove the sleeves. He slowed, one hand returned to her cheek as he pulled her lips towards him.

A new fire ignited him. This wasn’t consumption, this was reveling. He didn’t want to consume her; he wanted to make it last. For months he’d been dreaming of what she would taste like- his imagination was nothing compared to her actual sweetness. He couldn’t ruin this- not this time. Not with her. 

“Felicity,” He whispered against her mouth. She pulled back, her hair plastered against her sweat- and tear-stricken face. 

“What?” She panted. “Why did you stop?”

“Because,” He grinned. “Because I- I had to. If we kept going, neither of us would have the strength to stop.”

“Who said I wanted to stop?”

He groaned internally at her words. Taking her hands in his, he kissed each of her knuckles.

“God, please don’t say words like that to me. Not right now. I have to have the strength to stop because you deserve better than this. You deserve better than a panic room at the basement of a building. You deserve to be lavished and loved and-and I want to give that to you. I have to give that to you.”

“No, what you have to do is keep kissing me.”

He laughed. A genuine laugh that hadn’t escaped his mouth in God knows how long. 

"Felicity, please. I want this. I want you. I’ve waiting so damn long for this, and I can’t ruin it. Not with you. I have to be good.”

She adjusted herself, leaning forward as she straddled him. He groaned again, then looked at her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Can’t you be good after, like, ten more minutes? We don’t have to do anything… extreme. Just kiss. Ten minutes, Oliver, is all I ask. Please?” She pouted.

“You will be the death of me,” He groaned. 

“That wasn’t a no,” She smiled, crashing her lips against him again. He moaned in defeat, but in all honesty, it was more of a win. 

Suddenly, the metal door behind them clicked open. Oliver, who had been leaning against it, fell back in surprise.

“Oh my God!” Felicity shrieked, tucking her head in the crook of Oliver’s neck. He grabbed the closest thing to him- his shirt, apparently- and used it to cover up his now very exposed girlfriend. 

“Well, well. Look what we have here,” Quentin smirked. “So the entire Queen Consolidated building evacuates ‘cause of a bomb threat and you’re here making out with your assistant. Typical, Queen.”

“I, uh, I don’t think we’ll be needing your services anymore, Detective. Thank you,” Diggle said, fighting the smile on his lips. 

Detective Lance snorted before exiting the room.

“So is there, uh, anything you two care to share?” He asked, crossing his arms. 

“Not right now, no,” Felicity mumbled into Oliver’s bare chest. He sighed and stroked her hair. 

“I’ll let you two, uh, clean up. I’ll be outside,” Diggle gestured with his head. Before he exited the room, he shouted over his shoulder. “It’s about damn time! Tell Roy he owes his twenty bucks!”