well all right only on bad days

Send my muse a curse!

M!A’s based on original curses and some inspired by famous curses in history.

Button Eyes: whoever sends this has ownership of a voodoo doll especially made for my muse, and can inflict harm on them at will. Lasts as long as they want.

Bad Luck: muse has a classic case of bad luck and nothing will go right for them for a full day.

The Crying Boy: muse feels like their insides are on fire. Lasts a full day.

Lost Soul: muse is stuck in a ghostly dimension; they can see everything going on around them, but no one can see or hear them. Lasts two days.

Worst Fears: muse is haunted by the thing(s) that scare them the most. Lasts a full day.

Kennedy: bad luck follows not only my muse, but all of their friends and family as well! (Ask permission from other muns before involving anyone else in this curse). Lasts two days.

Seeing Red: muse sees blood everywhere they look. Bonus points if they’re afraid or disgusted by blood. Lasts a full day.

Murrain: muse is deathly ill. Lasts two days.

Ravenous: muse is constantly starving but cannot be satisfied. Lasts two days.

Loathly: muse is transformed, becoming increasingly more haggard and/or monstrous in appearance. An act of kindness towards them will break the curse.

A New Roommate: an evil spirit possesses my muse’s body. How it behaves is up to the mun. Lasts three days.

Followed: spirits from my muse’s past are following them around. Lasts two days.

Not a Wink: muse can’t sleep no matter how tired they feel. Lasts three days.

The Bell Witch: muse’s home is plagued by relentless poltergeist activity. Lasts two days.

Lust and Love

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words: 2,040

Request: A part of my wants to read ravenous and rough Logan x reader smut and another part of me wants fluffy. Could you maybe write a Logan smut where it’s super fluffy? Or you can do some rough sex. I’m such a hopeless romantic how embarrassing. Thank youuuuuu :-)

A/N: Ah, I got really sappy during the ending. Okay, well I didn’t add fluffy smut per say, and I’m sorry about that, but I did add loads of fluff at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Of all the bad days you’ve had in your life, mind you there have been a lot; this had to take the cake. Your wrists were aching from the constant chuff of the too-tight chains rubbing up against them. The constant clank of chain hitting concrete was the only sound breaking the silence that had fallen over the cell. If looks could kill, Logan would be playing poker with the devil right now. His eyes stayed steadfastly forward, ignoring your seething. You watched his stiff form in the moonlight, almost as if you were trying to mentally send him your anger. Finally, fed up with keeping your anger inside, exhausted with constantly getting the shit end of the stick, and hopelessly annoyed with the man who had landed you here in the first place, you spoke up.

“(Y/N), trust me, I know what I’m doing. (Y/N), what will they do, chain us up and leave us to die? (Y/N), I’m the one with fighting experience. (Y/N), I ca-,”

“Enough,” Logan growled, interrupting your ranting. You didn’t even flinch, your anger outweighing any other emotion.

“If you would’ve listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” You hissed, your hands shaking against the chains in show. You couldn’t even care that the loud banging hurt your ears or the metal scraping your skin was aching, too busy trying to prove a point to care.

“If I would’ve listened to you, we would be dead.” He snarled back at you.

“If your plan is as solid as you think, how do you suggest we get out of here, captain?” You mocked, attempting to salute as best you could from your position. Your legs were aching with the strain of keeping yourself up high enough so your arms weren’t pulled from their sockets, your muscles groaning in protest. You were frustrated and you needed somebody to blame it on. Considering there was only one other person in the room, you vented all your hate out on him.

“Are you trying to say you can’t get out of these chains?” He raised a brow. You scowled at him, your eyes burning with anger.

“Because I’m the one that got us into this mess so obviously I’m the one that has to get us out,” you muttered sarcastically, your entire body morphing into a cat, causing the chains to thud to the ground. Your hypersensitive ears were ringing, a hiss making its way past your bared teeth.

“Relax,” Logan shushed, removing his own chains from his wrist. You stretched your muscles, returning to human form in the process. “A cat? Out of everything?” You shrugged.

“Don’t act like you’re any better there kitty claws,” you gave his retracted claws a pointed look, prompting him to return them to their natural place.

“Let’s go.” He stated, cutting his way through the barred window. “Do you have anything big enough to fl-,” he was cut off, your oversized talons digging into his shoulders as you lifted him off the ground. “Just great,” he muffled, an annoyed glower marring his features. You flapped your wide wings, loving the feeling of the cool wind rustling your auburn feathers. Flying was one of your favorite things to do; it had a way of making you feel alive. Your beady eyes looked down at Logan, gauging his expression. He was annoyed. You could live with that. You’d been angry at him for hours. Your relationship with Logan had always been, to put it simply, complicated. The two of you were normally overly flirty with each other, stealing every chance you can to just put your hands on the other. However, when the two of you got angry, World War Three was about to start. The both of you had flaring tempers, causing everyone to leave the two of you alone when you were fighting. You couldn’t help it; sometimes he could just be so frustrating. Of course, whenever you went down that alley you’d always been torn between wanting to strangle the man to death and wanting to jump on top of him and fuck him. Your mind always betrayed your angry thoughts, providing you with little facts about how kissable his lips looked or how he might feel with his strong arms wrapped around you, his body thrusting into you. The heated feeling of arousal that you’d become used to pooled in the bottom of your belly, infuriating you to no end. You felt like your body and your mind were betraying you. With a howl, you dropped yourself and Logan by one of the many warehouses that Charles had kept around the world. Logan wasted no time, heading for the door as soon as he was back on his feet. You spread your wings one more time, letting the breeze cool down your heated body, before morphing back into your normal self.

“How bad is it?” You asked, walking into the small, one-bedroomed warehouse. After you and Logan had started your mission to take down the anti-mutant groups, he’d been adamant about buying places to keep the two of you safe once you’d finish a task.

“Not terrible.” Logan replied curtly. You nodded stiffly, hating this part of the fights. It would always either get super awkward or the two of you would just end up blowing up at each other again. “Your wrists are injured,” he stated, his eyes catching on to the red skin covering your wrists.

“Yeah,” you answered, “from the cuffs.”

“Obviously,” Logan muttered. You looked at him unimpressed, your (Y/E/C) eyes shining in something akin to annoyance. It wasn’t nearly as bad as you had been staring at him earlier but it seemed enough to push his exhausted mind over the edge. “Don’t even try blaming that on me. We escaped out of there no problem.”

“We shouldn’t have got caught in the first place,” you pointed out moodily, your sleep-deprived mind causing everything to be much more infuriating.

“No, we shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Your eyes widened.

“Are you suggesting we left that little girl to die?”

“I’m saying we should have made a plan before diving in blind like that.” You took a step towards him, Logan taking his own step forward.

“Oh, the one time you actually want to use your head before jumping into a fight,” you argued.

“I know which fights actually require thought and which ones don’t,” Logan sneered, his body moving ever closer to your own.

“You are so frustrating.” You yelled, your hands pulling at your (Y/H/C) locks.

“And you’re so maddening.” He yelled back, his body practically pressed against your own.

“Dick.” You muttered, your eyes narrowing at him. There was a second of silence; no breathing, no speaking, no movement. And then, with the speed of a cheetah, Logan was pulling you into his muscular body, his tongue invading your mouth. You wrapped your legs tightly around him, your anger flaring into arousal. One hand gripped your ass while the other was tugging your hair mercilessly. He all but threw you on the edge of the bed, pulling you back towards his center with a bruising grip on your thighs. You knew this wasn’t going to be loving, wasn’t going to be sweet. No, this was going to be rough, animalistic, and feral. With a low snarl in your throat, you ripped Logan’s suit off his chest, not caring where it landed. He returned the favor, a single claw retracting just long enough to tear the fabric of your outfit, leaving your chest bare to him. He let out an animalistic growl, his teeth biting all over your exposed chest. A throaty yowl worked its way out of your throat, your hands dropping to Logan’s pants in a blinding surge of want. His bites faltered when your hands brushed over his confined erection, a pant coming from his open mouth. You were trying, and failing, to remove his pants. He seemed to notice your struggle, shredding them off his body with a smug ease. He did a similar action to your own pants, only feeling satisfied once the two of you were completely bare. The need came slamming back down, causing your vision to spin for a second. Nothing else in your life could ever be as important as having him right this instant. With a ferocious roar, you dug your teeth into his neck. He howled, his hands gripping your thighs roughly. Without so much as a second thought, he pushed his hardened length into your awaiting heat. You dug your teeth in his neck further, inflicting as much pain on his neck as his hands were on your thighs. He didn’t give you time to adjust to his size, slamming his body into your own over and over again. You met him thrust for thrust, your nails raking over his back and your mouth still attached to his neck, drawing blood. Inhuman noises were being torn from his throat, his entire body pushing into your own with a speed too fast to be human. You could feel the pleasure building deep within your stomach, your own lunges speeding up. Your insides clenched impossibly tight, the feeling so, so close. He lifted your leg just a little bit higher, sending his full length careening even further into your slick warmth. Stars exploded, the sun expanded, and the world came crashing down. Your orgasm wracked your entire body, a scream sounding so feral you almost couldn’t believe it was coming from you. Logan’s thrusts sped up for a few more seconds, his body pounding ruthlessly into yours. With a savage howl, he came, his seed warming your insides. His head dropped to your shoulder, his heavy pants heating your skin. You were both too exhausted to care, your bodies dropping back onto the bed effortlessly. Logan pulled you closer to him, your head resting on his chest as your eyes drifted shut. You closed off reality, calling it a day.

Your mind seemed to register the slight tickling sensation on your forehead before anything. You groaned, willing it to go away with your mind. Growling to yourself, you opened your eyes. The second thing your mind noticed was that you were sore in places you didn’t even know you had. Finally, your brain caught on to the fact that you were snuggled into a certain someone’s chest.

“Uh, Logan.” You greeted awkwardly, pulling out of his arms. Now that your head was free of lust and your mind was clear, you felt awkward.

“Good morning, (Y/N),” his lips lifted up in a half smile. You watched him uncertainly for a moment. “(Y/N)?” He asked softly.

“Logan,” you repeated, not entirely sure what to do with yourself. He leaned himself on his elbows, watching you curiously.

“Something the matter?” He inquired.

“We…” You breathed. “You and I… We… Last night… This morning…” You quirked an eyebrow, an amused little smile gracing his face.

“We did,” he confirmed what you already knew.

“So what do we do now?” You asked, fidgeting under the blankets. He lifted his hand, hesitating for a moment before placing it on your bare knee.

“We do what you want,” he replied, his eyes searching your own.

“What do you want?”

“You,” his answer was soft as he watched you. “I,” he paused, “I love you.” Your mouth fell open, gaping at him. “(Y/N)?” He asked tentatively after the silence stretched on for a moment. A blanket at warmth cocooned you at his words.

“I love you too.” You replied, moving closer to his side. He pulled you down on top of him, kissing your lips with a sweetness that had not been present last night. As you moved against his rapidly-hardening erection, you realized you needed this just as much. This time when he kissed you, there was a promise behind it. When he entered you with slow strokes, there was a meaning to it. And when he finally came, the whisper of your name on his lips, there was a devotion to it. The two of you were lustful creatures by nature, but sometimes lust wasn’t enough. Sometimes you needed love to feel whole again.

Anyone struggling with clogged pores, black heads and acne stop what you’re doing right now and listen to me. Since I started college my skin has been consistently bad for three years. After doing some research I’ve cut out all chemicals and only use products like jojoba oil to moisturize, African black soap to cleanse etc. well two weeks ago my mom gave me a bottle of lavender essential oil so I googled it and found results that give lavender oil credit for clearing skin. It’s true. I’ve been using it every day twice a day with a carrier oil (jojoba or coconut) and my skin has never looked this good in years. Just three drops of lavender and the same with the carrier oil and you’re set. I also like to put it on my neck because lavender has calming properties. It’s very strong smelling and overpowering at first but you will get used to it.

How Did You Manage This?

It was his mother’s birthday, being the doting son that he was Simon had planned a full day of spoiling her. Especially since as of late he felt he’d been less than stellar at spending time with her and his sister as a family.

Knowing his boyfriend would be gone all day Jace decided to plan a surprise of his own, not only for Simon but for Mrs. Lewis as well. It had taken her awhile to warm up to him, she kept stating that Jace had the ‘bad boy’ look and thought he was going to hurt her son. However lately things were better between the unlikely pair because Elaine had seen with her own eyes how Jace adored Simon.

She confessed to him she’d seen them kissing a few times, saw the way Jace looked at her son. Caught the way Jace always reached out to touch Simon gently when they were in social settings. Holding his hand, or his palm on the small of Simon’s back, or a pinky brushing against Simon’s dangling hand. It was like Jace the ‘bad boy’ needed someone to hold him up, he was just as vulnerable and invested in this relationship. It must have dawned on her that Jace needed Simon too, and in fact her son could be capable of hurting Jace as well.

Keep reading

Bendy and the your oc in the plotline machine.

Ever heard someone say, don’t ship your oc with a canon character because it’s gross? Well I don’t like that. I wanna see you try that. It’s only bad if you do it wrong like all things. So let’s try this. Joey learned about how to make life. Two characters aren’t enough for testing purposes or a actual show. You need some background characters in most stories. That’s where your oc comes in. The cartoon continues long enough to have x amount of ocs and their fates are up to you. Try hARD and maybe you’ll do it right. Enjoy your PETTY day.

I wanna say I ate at least a good 80% healthy this week. Had my first major cheat meal on Friday (in 3 weeks) including alcohol which is unlike me. But I feel like ever since then, I look and feel bloated. My lower abdomen is huge right now. Seems as if I gained all the weigh back in that one night but I know obviously that’s not the case. And also my hormones are all over the place right now bc Mother Nature is taking her sweet ass time to come but I also know I’m bloated due to that as well. I only went to the gym 4 days this week which is not too bad but not that great either. Although I actually ate okay today to the point where I had to eat something so I can complete my diary log in MFP bc I didn’t eat enough calories, I still don’t feel like my usual 100%. It’s kinda bothering me and I feel like I’m walking backwards again… idk I know this week will be better tho.

I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad.
I wanted it to be you during those hot summer nights when the sun arises at 4am and the heat of the sheets combined with our bodies leaves us sticking to each other so bad that we have to physically peel ourselves off each other when the birds begin to sing too early because they get a little confused.
I wanted it to be you when I needed that shoulder to cry on because just maybe my day isn’t going so well and just maybe you’re the only one who can make it alright again because the comfort of your body is all I can feel right now but God forgive you’re not here when I need you the most.
I wanted it to be you when the dark nights hit and the moon appears at 7pm because the sun disappears all too quick and that frost sets in, the kind of frost you have to get up half an hour early just to clear the windscreen so you can see clearly again because I think the only thing I can really picture anymore is you.
I wanted it to be you when I get so lonely at 3am and I know you are only an arms length away so that I could pull you in when and if I needed you to keep me safe again because your arms wrapped around me are really the only thing I know anymore.
I wanted it to be you when these four walls get too much and I need out of here because maybe the blue in the sky reminds me of the colour of your eyes and maybe all I need to know is that the sun will rise again even if you decide to never come back because maybe I’ve realised you’re not the sun in my life anymore and that it will still go on without you.
But I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad.
—  I wanted it to be you.

We all have those days when nothing seems to go right. It appears it’s the same for the animal kingdom too.

In this case, a raccoon was seen having a string of bad luck after it was chased up a tree only to fall into a pond of cold water. The moment of misfortune occurred when the cute critter crept inside a lemur enclosure at the North Carolina Zoo.

The inhabitants did not take well to their unwelcome guest and it was forced to take refuge in a nearby tree. After scrambling up a tree and looking down on his rather unfamiliar surroundings, things continued to go wrong for the cute animal.

After waiting for the coast to clear, it then attempted to get higher but ended up losing its grip and hurtling to the ground in what can only be described as a Superman style bomber dive. It was then captured plunging into a pond below before clambering out looking rather bedraggled.

With the water to break its fall, the daring creature climbed up a handily placed twig to complete his Mission Impossible escape to safety.

The photographer, Evan Hambrick said: “It was insane. We were all routing for him. Everyone was cheering. I don’t know how he got in, but I’m glad he got out.” [x]

hey everyone. due to the louisiana flood, school is cancelled, and alot of jobs are also delayed as well, which is extremely bad considering my mother is a teacher, and my brother works at a pizzeria. my mom doesn’t work at all right now, and my brother only starts working in a few days, which is actually extremely bad. this is extremely bad timing, seeing as we’ve had extreme troubles with money even before the flood, but now it’s making things a whole lot worse. we barely have any food, any money because of jobs, and it’s hard to get to downtown where the food stamps are because floods block our way, and downtown is far away. i’m legit begging right now for commissions. i’ll literally get them done as soon as i possibly can. this flood is legit fucking us over royally in the ass.

SO! here are commission prices! i might even lower them down if you don’t have enough for one!

sketches $7

lineart $10-13

flat color $15

fullbody w/ shading  - $20

Day 2/100 of productivity: Been quite some time since I was this productive! Last week has been really bad for me and I couldn’t see myself doing any work with all the negative emotions inside me. This week is going to be better as 1) I’m going to submit my 2nd last mid-term paper before my finals and 2) I only have 3 school days this week! Right now, I’m attempting to complete my 1.5k words research essay due tomorrow (whaaaat) on China’s history and though I’m stressed out doing this paper because I didn’t do as well for my previous submission, I’m really excited doing it because I’ve learnt so much about China just researching on them! Have a great week of learning everybody!!

everything will be alright, if you keep me next to you (olicity future fic)

A/N: You can blame @longlivefelicitythequeen’s love of a Pregnant!Felicity for this. Just a little token for a year of friendship! I’m afraid you’re stuck with me forever!


Originally posted by marap

As far as bad days go, Felicity Queen is having a monumentally bad one.

It all started with the sound of her dreaded alarm, well, it wasn’t the fact it chimed altogether. No, it was more because it chimed 45 minutes after her usual rise and shine, making her skip breakfast just to be on time for a horrid shareholders meeting at Queen Inc.  

Who in their right mind takes on a board of twenty old men that have their heads stuck up their own asses on an empty stomach?  

And oh, that was only the start of her work day. By 10 am, the 25 servers that powered the company, yes the complete set of servers had crashed, causing the employees to have no access to the internal network.

What’s a fortune 500 company without email and phone lines? More like an unfortunate 0 company.

On top of everything else, being 8 months pregnant does not help the situation. In addition to the hormones that either want to make her sob into her blanket at puppies in tv commercials or climb her husband like he’s the last single living tree on the planet, her back aches… constantly. Her feet are the size of an elephant’s, she literally cannot wear anything else but her shabby flip flops and the ninja that is growing inside her? It’s definitely Oliver Queen’s kid because it uses her bladder to parkour off.

Speaking of her husband, the wonderfully stubborn man that he is, has gotten himself kidnapped by the newly crazed Malcolm Merlyn.

So yeah, she’s a little bit cranky right now and possibility on the verge of tears, but she’s not entirely sure if it’s the hormones or just a bad case of heartburn.


“Sweetheart, are you sure you want to do this?” Captain Lance asks nervously, looking like his heart may fail him at any given moment as he looks between Felicity and the abandon warehouse behind her, “This is an incredibly dangerous situation.”

Felicity just continues to angrily chew the Twizzer she’s eating and stares at the warehouse.

“Lis, Lance is right and Ollie would kill me if you or the little ninja got injured. Let me go in and talk to him? Maybe Malcolm will listen to me this time” Thea says timidly but there’s a fiery determine shining from her eyes. The Queen Siblings are nothing but deeply protective of each other.

A huge sigh rattles her body as Felicity places a gentle hand on Thea’s forearm, “In all due respect, guys, if anyone is going to get through this son of a bitch, it’s going to be me. I know from past experiences.. And Thea, honey, he doing this because in his sick twisted mind, he’s trying to protect you so who knows what he’ll do when he sees you. Best stay here, okay?”

With a small curt nod from the captain, everyone takes their places.


Felicity knows she should be nervous or worried, maybe even a little scared as she stands in front of the large metal doors that will reveal what’s on the other side once she gives the okay.

But oh boy, she’s not. Not a single fibre in her being is feeling any of these things. Do you know what she is?

Royally pissed off. Oh that pun was fully intended.

Pissed off that this mental SOB had the nerve to kidnap Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, her husband and thinks he can get away with it. Pissed off that she finally found a comfortable position in her warm bed that had her dozing off for only to be dragged out of bed by a frantic Thea. And now, she’s really pissed off that she’s standing out in the freezing cold at 2 am.

She’s about to signal her okay when she hears one of the SWAT members ask Lance, “Are you really going to let her go in like that?…

In a speed that rivals Barry’s, she whips around and death glares the guy in question before looking down to inspect her outfit. Her favourite Russian Doll pj’s are roughly tucked into a pair of old gumboots that she grabbed at first sight, and plus she never knows when her water is going to break and Felicity Queen is always prepared. Her purple tank top is skewed and there’s chocolate sauce stains from 3 days ago but they are hidden by Oliver’s old arrow jacket. It’s way too big for her, as the sleeves covers her tiny hands but it’s snug around her large tummy where she’s zipped it up.

It’s an odd fit, but it still smells like Oliver and god damn it, if she’s going to play superhero for the night, she’s gonna look the part.

Before she can bark back a sassy remark, Quentin has put his hands up in surrender as he whispers to the guy, “Geez Bill, didn’t your mother ever tell you to not question a pregnant woman?”


“MALCOLM MERLYN,” Her loud voice has the perfect tone of an angry mother in it, as she storms through the doors, pure rage runs in her veins making her fists tighter and tighter, “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

She ignores the strangled gasp and the grunt when she walks by Oliver and Digg, who have their hands tied up above their heads, lightly swinging from the pole.

“Oh Ms Smoak, so glad you can join us, the fun is about to start.”

“Oh yes it is Mr Crazy Pants, but I’ll be the one who will be having the fun, well if you hand over Oliver I will, I mean not in that way - I’m angry and tired, and he’s getting a stern talking to and possibly a life ban on sex, I just meant that -”

“Fe-li-ci-ty” Oliver sluggishly mumbles, interrupting her epic babble. So much for being a cool and collected superhero for the night, she’s babbling about sex.

Turning on her heel and Felicity gives Oliver her very best unimpressed look, “Don’t you start mister, I specifically told you no big moves until I was in the foundry next. Did you listen? No! So be quiet and hang there!”

Without a second glance, she turns back around to find Malcolm Merlyn smirking. Oh no, she’s not having that happen. Malcolm Merlyn does not get to smirk ever again.

She starts off slow but gets firmer and firmer with each word, standing her ground with eyes shining with power and determination, “Remember when I told you that if you betrayed us, I would let the entire world know you were alive and where you were? Surprise!”

At the word, the SWAT team comes barging in, guns blazing, surrounding Malcolm Merlyn. It’s Felicity’s turn to smirk as she waddles away from the scene. The last thing she hears is Oliver chuckling at the conversation between Quentin and John.

“Man, is Felicity wearing Oliver’s old….”

“We should’ve been here sooner but she made me drive back and get it…”


She doesn’t know how she got here, actually she drove here - duh. But Felicity doesn’t know how she got herself into an argument with a teenage boy with red hair and braces at the McDonald’s drive thru.

“Ma’am, that is definitely the Arrow’s jacket from 2013. I know it is…”

“Dude, don’t ma’am me! No it’s not… Well okay it is, I’m just really into cos play, okay? Now hand over the damn sundae!”

Once her chocolate is in hand, she drives and parks her Mini. Shoving the container into the cup holder so she can lean over the handbrake to find the CD she wants, but swears profusely when her stomach makes the sundae tip, righting it before picking it up as she puts in the CD and finds the track, seconds later the heavy beats of Taylor Swift’s Bad Blood vibrate through the small car.

What? It’s her angry song.

She’s only on her third bite when the passenger door opens and Oliver gracefully sides in, looking like he’s come from a model shoot in his grey henley and dark blue jeans. The jerk.

Felicity doesn’t even make any sign that she knows his presence is there, she is too busy shovelling the chocolate-ly goodness into her much and is way too emotional to talk. But as a drop of ice cream leaks off the spoon and onto the soft green leather, she breaks.

Of course, she doesn’t say what she actually feels because that’s too easy for a highly emotional pregnant women.. So instead of saying that she was absolutely scared shitless about losing Oliver, she says between sobs while placing the container back down,

“I. Got. Some. On. Your. Jacket! Now. It’s. Ruined!”

In an instant, Oliver is leaning awkwardly over to cup one cheek and wipes the ice cream off in one quick flick of a finger, “Hey hey, shhh, it’s okay. It came off, see?” His voice is low and sweet as his thumb wipes at her tears, while placing small soft kisses on the other cheek, “Talk to me, Felicity.”

She tries, she really does but all the fear and emotion of the night has finally caught up to her and is forming a lump in her throat so she shakes her head.

Oliver’s body tenses for a second but eases when he stares into her watery blues and sees the aftermath of panic. He leans down to give her a slow, sweet kiss that tells her that he’s okay, that she didn’t lose him and that he’s not going anywhere. He sits up and pulls playfully at the zip on her sleeve with a smug grin plastered across his face.

“You’re wearing my jacket…”

This time Felicity finds the words, her true feelings pour out in a small voice, “I got my lead from you, I thought if I wore it, I would feel braver. I wouldn’t be so freaked out about us losing you,” she says as a hand comes to rest on her bump, her thumb caressing it, “I thought I could be a hero in that thing, blocking out any fear. But I’m not, I’m just a scared fat pregnant woman who looks like she’s about to step onto a farm.”

A gasp echoes around the car as Oliver breathes, “Oh, baby. C’mere,” he reaches over her to push her seat back and lifts her onto his lap, gathering her to his chest tightly as a hand runs through her hair, “No, Felicity. Don’t ever say that. You’re beautiful and brave. You’re the strongest person I know. I mean you took down Malcolm Merlyn and saved our lives tonight. I love you and I’ll never willingly leave you. You are a hero, Felicity Queen. You’re my hero.”

They sit in peace for a long moment, just holding each other like it is the only thing that matters before Felicity lifts her head from his shoulder, “I love you, too. But, I’d love you more if you took me home and gave me a back-rub.”

Oliver chuckles lightly “Anything you want, Superhero”


It’s exactly half an hour later that Felicity finds herself curled up against her husband in their big comfy bed, with one large warm hand rubbing circles along her spine underneath her tank top and the other lovingly caresses her bump. Apparently the little ninja loves having her daddy near as she kicks right on Oliver’s hand and Felicity groans. She was on the edge of sleep but before she can open her eyes, she hears Oliver murmur in her ear.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” and there’s a long beat before a rustling of sheets and two hands cupping her bump before Oliver whispers, “Hey Little Ninja, could you please give Mommy a break while she rests, she save the day today. She’s a hero.”

As she drifts off to sleep with a terribly big grin, Felicity thinks, that finally Overwatch can clock off for the night.

work thoughts

 a lot of personal stuff today, haha

-behold, the origin of the phrase “devil’s advocate”!  it…was apparently an actual thing as one point?  I wasn’t expecting that.

-more and more these days I’ve been thinking about how we only accept certain behaviors from people whose sentiments we agree with.  a rude, cocky retort from someone we disagree with could be an epic, hilarious takedown if we think the person is right.  well–obviously this doesn’t apply to all situations or people, but I think the temptation is there.  it’s easy to fall into the mindset, esp. on here.

-recently I’ve been trying to think of people’s opinions of me as something they garner by averaging out their experiences with me.  so even if I’m weird and bad at talking one day, if they’re around me for enough days, they’ll be able to experience different sides of me!  no one defines you by any one moment–or rather, no one should.

-in a similar vein, what is the point of ruminating on things I regret?  what is it about my brain that has decided if I feel bad for long enough or cause myself enough pain, I’ll be somehow forgiven?  it’s ridiculous, and kind of horrible.

-I seem to get a lot of guilty satisfaction from being told I’m better at something than someone else.  like, moreso than when someone just says “hey you’re really good at this!”.  to be clear, I don’t like it when people use comparisons as a compliment.  I think it’s cheap and unnecessary and unkind.  but something in me likes having a metric for my “goodness”, I think.  hint: it’s my anxiety

-the prescription medication humira has the official name “adalimumab” and I think that’s great.

-”two’s company, three’s a crowd” is so true and applies to more than just groups of people.  what is it that makes working for three more hours so much harder than working for two more?  or, weirdly, harder than four?  I guess it’s short enough to seem like it shouldn’t take long but long enough to drag on…?  I had other examples but I’ve forgotten them.

Invisible - V

Characters: Taehyung X Reader

Rated: I for Is it what you call angsty fluff? Is this fluffy at all?

He was invisible.

And he wouldn’t have liked it in any other way. He wasn’t good, nor he was bad at school, he had normal grades, he was eating alone in the cafeteria and no one was sat by his sides during classes. But he didn’t cared, because you see, there was this girl he liked. He could watch this girl all day long, that sat just two sits by his right, near the window during math and history courses. She was always listening well during classes, had good grades, but the only bad thing about her, was her friends. He didn’t liked her friends, they were loud, and rude, and obviously they didn’t gave her the importance she deserved. And that girl, was you.

There was a storm outside that morning, the wind blowing really hard, and a black-out just happened. All the students were reunited in the corridors, silent and listening to the thunder. You could thought they would be very noisy though, but everytime the storm was shouting, they fell silent, cutting them mid-sentence. In the middle of another silence though, the door at the very end of the corridor opened in a loud rattle, and all eyes turned to look at the intruder. That boy came in, drenching wet, looking absolutely lost with all those eyes on him. It seemed like the very first time people noticed him around, and he just stood there, looking back at the crowd, a blush on his cheeks and wetting the floor under his shoes.

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These jokes are always howlingly bad, right? (Closed - Nicholas D. Wolfwood)

He and Nicholas had agreed to meet up once again for continued talks of the puppet show’s progression: and goodness, what wonderful timing! He’d just been thinking about regaling some marvelous jokes to help his friend smile near Valentine’s, too: Valentine’s was a day for cheer, was it not? Of course he wanted to share some bad jokes with his friends, too!

Though, he knew Nicholas didn’t exactly like his jokes all the time, so he’d probably be restricted to only a single bad joke with him. Well! In that case, he would have to make it an amazing one! Now, the question was - where would Nicholas want to meet up? Perhaps he was at his usual haunt at the bar? If not, he could always use that strange deivce called a ‘pyione’ to call him, so he started making his way there.