#shortdrabble

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ۶ৎ―― ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ʚଓ₊˚ʚ ;༊ ₊˚ ivy's 2k celebration

thank you for being with me and for loving these little fics that i write, my loves ♡ i am so so grateful for all your support & kindness. truly just speechless… i love you endlessly, always ‹𝟹

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnav. REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

EXAMPLE.ᐟ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𓂃༯ 💌 dear fic ￫ ask my fics little questions like they’re secrets written in a storybook… ask them why they hurt you, scold them, beg them for answers as to why they ended the way they did, and i’ll let them write back

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓍯𓂃example ⭑.ᐟ dear [fic title], why did you break my heart like that… was it necessary? did you have to be so cruel? i haven’t recovered

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— love, a very wounded reader ♡

[all requests for this have to be in format and in small text if possible!!]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𓂃༯ 🏹 fairy's arrow ￫ tell me about yourself, and i’ll find the one written in the pixieland for you

EXAMPLE.ᐟ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓍯𓂃things to mention ⭑.ᐟ preferred fandom, likes, dislikes, preferred gender, pet peeves, quirks, music taste, favoured films etc [all requests for this have to be in small text as they're usually longer and thus make it a bit messy!!]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𓂃༯ 🦋 moth-kissed notes ￫ give me a character + a scenario or au, and i’ll spin some headcanons just for you

EXAMPLE.ᐟㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓍯𓂃example ⭑.ᐟ moth-kissed notes for [character] as a bartender au/on a first date?

[all requests for this have to be in format and in small text if possible!!]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𓂃༯ 🧸 teddy dust ￫ send me a character + a prompt from any list, and i’ll write you a shortdrabble ・・・ fluffy ʚɞ angsty 1 2 ʚɞ domestic ʚɞ hurt/comfort 1 2

EXAMPLE.ᐟㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓍯𓂃example ⭑.ᐟ character: [character name] prompt: “............” (from [prompt list])

[all requests for this have to be in format and in small text if possible!!]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𓂃🖌 rules to keep in mind before requesting

ʚଓ only sfw requests ♡ i will not write anything uncomfortable or nsfw. keep it gentle, keep it kind

ʚଓ one request per ask ♡ send each request separately so nothing gets lost in the pages

ʚଓ small text, please ♡ try to keep your request in small text since they are more neat

ʚଓ follow the format ♡ structure keeps the magic flowing. if it’s not right, i won’t be able to grant your wish

ʚଓ ask with care ♡ i am not a wishing well. no “could you do this?” or “do this.” speak to me like i’m real, because i am

ʚଓ add the emoji ♡ each section has its own little emoji—please include it in your ask so i know what you’re requesting

ʚଓ enjoy the magic ♡ this is a soft space. let’s keep it lovely.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[thehargrovewhore]

not your fault | billy hargrove drabble #1.

alright guys so this is a little something for y'all while i take the time to perfect my stories. this is emotional & pure as fuck. i almost cried writing this. much love! 🖤

---

holding your billy close to your chest, you could not help but let the tears fall from your eyes. he was beaten, sobs wracking his toned chest and blood covering his face.

if you could kill neil hargrove without facing any jail time, the deed would have been done a very long time ago. he single handedly ruined any chance of happiness for billy, and became the face of his own son's nightmares.

"i don't know what the fuck i did to him. i don't know why he hates me so much." billy sobbed. you can't answer the question he's been dying to have answered. you can't tell him why his father became bitter, heartless, and cruel.

you can only hold him as close to you as possible, and play with those beautiful curls knowing that it soothes him and keeps him grounded in that moment. why did this have to happen nearly every night?

you were tired. tired of seeing the light of your life in pain, and anguish that only you knew about. tired of acting like everything is alright when it's clearly not. you wanted him to live a life of happiness. it's what your billy deserves and you are the only one to see that in this shithole town.

so, you made your mind up, right then and there. he was going start living with you from this day forward.

if that monster wasn't going to show him tender love and care, then you would do it. you would do anything for the boy who was currently wrapped up in your arms.

"you're moving in with me. tomorrow, we are getting your things from the house and you're coming back here.. with me." you declared, knowing that neil would never ever lay his hands on max, in fear of ruining his marriage with the only woman that is dumb enough to stay with him.

"this is my problem, baby. i am not going to push any of this bullshit onto you more than i already have. because this is my fault. if i wasn't such a fuck-"

you grabbed his handsome face gently, showing that it's not your intention to harm him but also not wanting this little speech to continue, because he was wrong. he was so wrong about himself and it really upset you.

billy had tried to flinch away from you, tried to avoid eye contact with you, but you wouldnt let him this time. you wanted him to hear this and understand it completely. it was breaking your heart in half to see him so broken.

"billy, baby, look at me. this is not your fault. do not think for one second that you deserve this. you are smart, you are funny, you are loving, and you are compassionate. i'd give you the whole world if i could, because guess what? i believe in you my love. i want you to know that you are not your father." you concluded, watching the tears fall.

billy has never in his life heard those words.. not even from his mother. who had left him in the dust without caring about what could happen to him.

he could not help but cry over your speech, he could not help but thrust his body towards you and hug you with a strength that was unbeknownst to even him.

because for the first time in his entire eighteen years of life, william hargrove felt unconditional safety and love.

[neverlandparker]

#1: Text to Ned

4:08 Peter: Hey Ned, it’s me, Peter. Guess what just happened?!?!?! I came home from school and you know how I got my suit taken away by Mr. Stark? Well, turns out, he returned it to me! I walked in my room and there it was, sitting in the middle of my bed in a paper bag. It was signed, “This belongs to you. -T.S.” I can’t believe he let me have it back!!! Okay, I’ll see you later to finish that Death Star! I’m going out for a swing. And before you ask, I guess I’m kind of an Avenger now :)

4:10 Ned: WHOAAAAA DUDEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT’S SO SO COOL WOW!!! Hey could you do something cool and send it to me with the suit on?! Also...what is it like being an “intern” to Mr. Stark? Catch ya later for the Death Star.

[plotbunnyshipper]

One Word

Short little drabble that came to mind yesterday, because now they’ve given us the potential for something like this...well maybe not my extra little add, but it’s my fic so I can have my secret marriage.

A03 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964951

��Take him and get out of here!” The demand is harsh but quiet through the earpiece.

My jaw locks and I let out a frustrated huff of air, pressing to activate my line, “I’m trying, but there are a thousand other people trying to go out the same exits, so this is as fast as we can go.” I grab William’s wrist and pull him over towards the staff access doors, “This way, there should be another-“

A gunshot roars through the room and time seems to drag.

Before anyone else can react exactly what Oliver wanted to avoid starts rolling into motion. “DAD!” William’s scream is piercing, and I look up in time to see Oliver’s hooded form freefalling for another second before grabbing onto the rope, favoring the side of his body where the Kevlar is exposed under shredded cloth. The asshole of the week narrows a calculated glare at us.

Son of a bitch! I practically drag him as he tries to stay rooted to the spot, “Move!”

“Who is this young man calling the Green Arrow, ‘Dad’?” Of course the press wouldn’t miss that, would they. I hit at the camera shoved into our faces, pulling him tighter.

“Keep your face covered, don’t say anything to them. You have to move now!” I can feel his shoulders shaking and weaving us past more of those stupid vultures  I dip my head down and whisper into his ear, “He’s fine, he caught the rope, you’ll see him in a couple hours. I swear it to you, but we have to get out of here so he can stop worrying about us as much as we worry about him and focus on what he’s doing.” My concern is split between the man who I know can take care of himself and the young man who is rightly terrified that he’s going to lose another parent.

“Felicity Smoak, is this your son?” I don’t answer, just shed my coat so William can drape it over himself as I demand. “Is he the Green Arrow’s child as he claims? What’s your name son?”

A service elevator is two doorframes and forty feet in front of, if the design of this place makes any sense, us as they follow. “Get the button.” He dashes ahead and presses, clicking sounds like a gamer reach back here while I block the press from following us with the door.

A chime, “It’s here!”

“Where should we go?” I demand into the earpiece.

“Up!” “Down!”

Come on guys! “Someone give us an escape!”

“Go up, you can go two buildings over on the scaffolding then the van will be around the corner.”

I knock over a cart as I dash into the elevator cab, William is frantic at the close door option, with the addition of my one press of the top floor button. The camera guys trip but one reporter almost makes it, the doors barely sealing before he can get in.

“Dam-!“ Wait, young ears! “Darn it!” My attempt at recovering is weak.

His hair, grown shaggy in the past couple months hangs down over his eyes as he stares at the floor, “I’m sorry.” There are tear tracks down his cheeks.

“Oh, no, no-no-no, not you! You’re doing great, we just need to get away from here before anyone catches up.” We make it across and down, though I have to ditch the heels after they catch in the metal grating and I don’t have time to focus on being careful.

True to form, Oliver shows back at the new, spare, Arrow Cave an hour later, bruised but relatively unharmed. He strides in fast, looking around. “William?!” We all point in the same direction and he is met halfway there in a crushing hug. “Are you hurt?” He already knows the answer, having been on the comms with us as soon as he had a chance and then after getting the necessities out of the way spending the whole his ride back here on the line with William.

The kid just shakes his head, the muffled response not intended for us, nor are the reassurances Oliver gives.

We are going to have a problem though. A big problem. The feed was live, and already it’s taking off on social media. Now there’s speculation that not only is he Son of the Green Arrow, but they’re also taking my proximity and defensiveness to be that I, accurately, am helping the Green Arrow, and just as worrying, though inaccurate and offensive, that he is the Bastard Love Child of Felicity Smoak and the Green Arrow. The dedicated have even started trying to mock up what “his father” would look like based on the blurry image they got of him, removing my features and combining them with the few questionable captures of Oliver’s masked and hooded face. They’ve already tried combining my face with Oliver, and Ray, trying to see if either of those match. They don’t. Thankfully.

I can see from the building feed that they’re already circling my building and my home, just waiting for the possibility that I might return there tonight. “No Mom. Mom, no. No! That is a terrible idea.” I roll my eyes at the ceiling, tempted to hang up and blame the connection. “You think they won’t be showing up at your doorstep next?” She doesn’t listen, just continues to try and convince me to bring William out to visit her, or let her fly in. Thank all the secrets in the world that she doesn’t know that at this point he’s my son…step-son…family. He doesn’t either so I can’t quite figure out how to refer to him in my mind without mixing it up because we’ve never talked about what he would want me to call him. He just lost his mother, he doesn’t need to think of me as the person swooping in to steal that position in his life, he’s having a hard enough time finding out Oliver is his hero.

Who would have thought one three letter word could threaten to expose Oliver as the Green Arrow, that he has a secret child, and that we’re married?

[lingling440]

"Love like the Sun"

(📝 and 📸me)

"I will love you like the sun. I'm always here for you, Rika." V reassured the young woman as he gave her a comforting hug.

"You will...?" Rika stared at him, doubtful yet clinging to that small ray of hope V continuously giving her.

A sincere smile made its way on V's lips and said the right words, "I will." he paused and tightens the hug. A sigh of relief escaped from Rika's mouth as she returned the affection to him.

That's right, they were fated to meet in the beginning. No matter how many times she messed up, he won't leave her.

"And you can continue testing me until you finally believe that I will never leave you. I am your sun."

[xamvjay]

| Need you - Gojo x afab!reader|

**WARNINGS: contains smut, explicit language, and sexual themes. MINORS DNI although I know yall horny out there reading it**

The picture above is NOT MINE and goes to the rightful credited owner.

All characters mentioned below are NOT MINE and belong to the Original Creator/Author/Illustrator.

This piece is a work of fiction and is pure imagination and is not real and does not involve in the original story/timeline.

Genre: smut, pwp, smut with no plot

cw: gojo, needygojhoe, afab!reader, smutwithnoPLOT, PWP, shortdrabble(notreally), size mentions, praise kinks!, notproofread

A/N: Yea sorry for disappearing for so so long, i actually was having a shitty time in my house dealing with family and it wasn’t the best. Pretty much broken over many personal things so yeah. Enjoy this small smut though : ) ~

wc: 1k sheesh --------------------------------------------------------------

-> DESPERATE GOJO FISTING HIMSELF TO THE THOUGHT OF YOU!?

His mouth was wide open. Translucent puffs of hot breaths condensed in this surprisingly cold atmosphere. The rectangular covered object filled with cotton was now held by his merciless grip. Breathy moans transpired in this very cube space. Sweat beads formed on his forehead which was hidden by the white pile of snowy hair. Teeth clenched occasionally, hips rutting desperately and abs tensing and flexing intermittently. His dusty pink pebbled nipples were softly grazed by his long thick veiny hands. They were slim and beautiful with reddish tones. They played and twisted the nipples while his hips kept moving against the white pillow.

His cock was drooling from its slit. Precum everywhere. It was slathered on the pillow while he kept an unforgiving pace. The reddened cockhead looked highly frustrated from the friction and pressure Gojo put on it. It was begging for a release. “Fuck mommy, want you…s’bad.” A thick vein that popped at the bottom of his dick was adorning his precious dick. Smaller blue veins popped and crawled around the sides making his cock appear fuller and heavy. The mushroom tip was now leaking even more precum. His hand that was on his chest made its way down to give more attention to his shaft. Fingertips ran on top of the white tuft of hair that was slightly grazing against his pretty cock. His pretty muscular back arched, detaching from the bed that was now tainted with sweat, he groaned gritting his teeth.

Satoru’s mind was running. His thoughts were clouded by the image of you. You were away for a business trip to another city that lasted at least a 15-hour drive. The night felt lonely, and you had sent an image of yourself in your most innocent yet skimpy lingerie and outfit. In both pictures were you having dominating poses and being suggestive with the facial expressions. Accompanied with those hot pictures of yourself were the messages that followed. They were filled with the naughtiest vocabulary and sentences that had Gojo’s throat run dry immediately when he opened the chat in his last office hours. His suit pants felt extra tighter, and a large tent formed at a scary pace. his breaths were shallower.

Oh, how he wished you were with him right now. He would fuck that cock straight into that wet cunny of yours that would’ve been prepped with his long thick digits and the toys he would buy whenever he felt like it. Oh, how he wished to have your tits played with and sucked on while he rammed into your fluttering hole and had a grip on your growing cock, milking it. Oh, how he WISHED so badly that you were moaning and creaming while both your arms were held by his behind your back while your face was mushed against the mattress. But those thoughts were intermingled with other ones too. How you would have him on his knees on the soft fluffy carpet. How your legs would be spread open, your pale blue g-string would cover nothing. The slick juices that highlighted the fleshy, puffy cunt of yours.

His magnificent, oh so magnificent azure blue eyes trained on that pussy of yours, drooling. His pink glossed lips were run over by his red slick tongue. It was a darkened room so that didn’t hurt his beautiful stunning eyes, but they glowed brightly. His blindfold was used as a makeshift gag and was now shoved inside that mouth of his. Your fingers filled with rings were now making their way to your waterfall cunt. A finger went deep inside your hole while you kept a seducing gaze on your boy-toy. His Adam’s apple bobbed frequently while strings of saliva dribbled down his chin from the corner of his mouth. A whine erupted from him - but was muffled by his blindfold. You shushed him immediately. “Watch and learn okay baby boy?” Your voice was beautiful, slightly hoarse from the way you pleased yourself and the way Satoru looked so desperate. So ready to eat you out and was begging through those eyes.

His hips started to move on his own as his erect cock stood upright, hard and stiff from not being touched at all. It was so deprived that any time air was blown on it, it would twitch and would release pre-cum. It would slide down his slightly curved cock and make it to the base where his balls were tightening up randomly. His eyes started to swell up with tears as he blinked several times, trying to hide them. His hands were cuffed using a pink fluffy cuff for comfort and aesthetic while his bunny ear headband was slipping forward pushing the hair towards his eyes, covering his vision slightly.

Ditching the pillow his hand was slightly shaky for holding such a grip for so long. He was so close. So close. He held his cock and fisted at a furious pace. His pale body was flushed with pale pink tones and his toned, muscled thighs and long legs were spread wide open. His thumb kept brushing on the slit - like you would and would still continue whenever he cummed, trying to achieve another one from him. But he couldn’t do it the way you would. Why? Well your pace, your way of doing it, your hands, and your tongue was from another world. It would drive his mind completely blank and his body was like a slave to your divine touch.

A white-hot spurt of cum shot out from his slit and landed on his stomach. He kept a softer pace this time, milking out every last bit of cum that his cock would muster up. They were gradually becoming warm as they made contact with the cold air circulating inside the room. Gojo didn’t realise he bit his sweet plump bottom lips so hard that it started to hurt. Those eyes glanced down tiredly as his finger scooped some of the cum and inserted it inside his hot mouth, tongue out, eagerly licking his finger clean. Gojo imagined you swallowing his cum and would kiss him directly, enabling him to taste himself and groan at the feeling. It would feel so intimate. But right now he gasped at the oversensitivity and huffed about at that thought.

His long-forgotten phone suddenly pinged up. Running his hand over his white hair he got on his elbows and patted his bed trying to find it. ‘Bingo.’ He thought and also reached on his nightstand where his trusty circular black sunglasses were there. Wearing them, he quickly unlocked his phone to see a message from you.

Had fun? Send me a picture of you all fucked out and that cum of yours. You’re welcome.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: also thought i was gonna end up doing gn!reader but didnt work out :/ ill try later on. also sorry for the ass quality pics might change em.

[thesabrina1me-blog]

Short Drabble

Hearing her hear beat faster when he was around was really annoying me. He's an asshole who just wants her cause she's hot. She doesn't realize it but I could treat her so much better than he could. Hell, I'm in love with her. Does she ever notice? Nope. Although I don't really make it that obvious. But she obviously likes him-not me. And I don't think she ever will.

[plotbunnyshipper]

Undefined

Just a short start of a story that came to mind the other day, might work it into something or add more at some point, just not right now. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919304)

Pounding. Annoying, relentless, echoing pounding. I utterly reject the sound and the very idea of waking up. The warm body that had recently shifted and wrapped long bands of heat, in the form of an arm, leg, and the front of his body against the back of mine, rumbles a set of sleep thick noises. My brain complains about deciphering that into, “You expecting company?”

I grumble a negative response and curl down into the embrace and further under the covers. The pounding continues.

“Want me to-?”

I keep my eyes tightly closed. “No.” If he shuts up I can fall back to sleep for another blissful… I can feel the sun on my lower face, so another fifteen or so before the alarm goes off.

“Felicity!” The deep shout from the direction of the door forces me to stumble out of bed.

Tossing the things he shed, across the floor last night, at him while finding my robe, “Coming John!” I shout before giving Oliver a look of concern whispering, “Get dressed, you can go out the window and circle around.”

I hear the window thunk shut as I’m moving down the stairs, he must have skipped his shoes to get out so fast. Unlocking and unlatching after glancing out the frosted glass and seeing the familiar frame before opening the door, “What’s wrong?”

He strides in, all controlled strength and the need for movement, “Nothing’s working.”I shut the door and catch him looking me up and down, then glancing up towards the bedroom. “You got company?”

Stifling a yawn and starting some coffee to jumpstart my brain, I mutter, “Just Mr. Sandman.’

He raises an eyebrow, “Is that-“

“Sleeping, you woke me up, no one is up there.” The machine burbles and the rich scent of caffeinated love fills my nose, “Continue with the reason I’m looking at your pretty face at this ungodly hour.”

“Everything is down this morning. Cell phones, internet, GPS, Sat-phones, T.V., none of it is working.”

I swallow the sip I took, and peer at him over the rim, “For realsies or is this a bad attempt at a joke?”

“Felicity, you think I’d rather be showing you my pretty face or be with my wife and son at this ungodly hour.”

“Ok…give me a second to start thinking-thinking.” I motion towards the coffee then jog up the stairs to retrieve my phone, spotting Oliver’s under the bed and slipping it into a pocket. Silencing it to be safe, everything not working would start just to spite me and whatever this thing that’s going on between us right now. “So, satellite, wireless, cell phone…waves, frequencies, something in the air?” The power is obviously working. Another knock sounds at my door, and I see the outline of the person who was in my bed not five minutes ago. “You guys are like weeds, this morning.” I open the door, tightening my robe, “Oliver, if you’re here about the cell phones and stuff not working, John beat you to the punch.” A discreet, body blocked transfer of his phone to him as I flourish in towards the kitchen. “You know where to find coffee. I need to get dressed.”

It’s too early for this regular brand of nonsense.

[plotbunnyshipper]

Shot Through the Heart

Short fragment of a fic I’m trying to pull together. Posting helps motivate me to actually keep working at it so this is just the first of the four pages I’ve cobbled together from a couple images that popped into my mind...though I’m kinda thinking I’ll work the Halloween/cosplaying as Rose/Ten/Tentoo I have a few paragraphs on as the start rather than beginning with this. So many options... 

Scanning my eyes back over the crowd, I try to figure out why doing that the first time sent a crawling wave of unease through me. Happy or bored people, a scattered bit of applause and laughter as Oliver hints at a joke.

They’ve taken it surprisingly well, like it was the whole city’s inside secret or wink-wink-nudge-nudge-joke that only the oblivious didn’t know, when, courtesy of Chase’s multi-level-deep backup plans, the press painted the scandal that Oliver is the Green Arrow. More than anything there was a collective ‘meh.’ Of course there were the denouncers, decrying that there was any way Oliver could possibly be a masked hero, photoshops done over the years to make it seem ridiculous, or the strangers they insist have to be ‘The Real Green Arrow.’ The candid photos someone somehow got of him shirtless, from who knows where, but I can see it’s recent, shut most of them up. The damage to his body isn’t something you get by being Mayor. I’m sure when he was first accused of being a vigilante it surprised them, the second, then third time though… There!

William gives a startled yelp as I yank him towards me while gasping his dad’s name. The small dot leaves the center of his chest, stops glinting off the zipper on his jacket, as time slows. There is a thunderous noise, at least in my mind, and the glass window that was behind the boy is a glittering, crumbling spider web.

Someone screams, and another too loud sound starts to echo, then everything bursts into chaotic noise.

The momentum, the centrifugal force is too much, William starts going past. I grip tighter, pulling as hard as I can to move him so he’ll end up behind me by the time Oliver will get in front of both of us. His arc is broken when he suddenly slams backwards against my chest with a sharp pained cry that pierces rest of the noise. NO! We crash backwards through the broken glass.

“NO!” Oliver’s breathless denial feels like it takes minutes to hear, not fractions of a second.

...

[plotbunnyshipper]

Untitled (for now) Part 04 - 5x23 end

Not beta read (not even spell/grammar checked or read over, just a straight transcription from a stack of sticky notes), last bit I had followed down the stream of consciousness path...

I am woken by a voice against my ear. “I hear you wish to wed my husband.”

Blearily I open my eyes, “Nyssa?” She’s ok. If she’s ok, the others…

“I will say he and I share our taste in blondes.” She gives a feral smile. “You remind me of Sara when we first met, almost a childlike innocence. Lips press against my cheek in what can only be taken as a threatening kiss. “If you hurt him You Will answer to me. The league may be disbanded, but there is nowhere in this world we will not find you…and you know the thing about assassins?” She continues through my wheezing, still noisy even if it feels so much less like I’m drowning out of water than before I slept. “We know how to kill fast, but we also know how to drag it out. This I promise you.” She ghosts a finger down my forehead, over my nose, across my lips, ignoring the coughing, “Keeping you alive will be no mercy.”

“Nyssa, what are you doing in here?” Oliver! His footsteps are solid and have him right next to us.

“Just discussing how we plan to take our bride to the marriage bed.” She says it with a smile.

He frowns.

I keep coughing out my lungs.

“Nyssa…”

Her response is just as succinct, “Husband.” I know he got it annulled before we even got to Ivy Town. She’s just doing it to get a rise. She’s pissed about something, why does that include me?

“Please find somewhere else to be.” A politely phrased demand, with all the anger his quiet voice can intone, while placing himself between the pair of us, brushing a hand over mine.

When we are alone I manage to rasp, “Why’s she angry with me?”

“She’s angry with me.”

“Why?”

“I had to choose, and I chose one over many.” He runs a hand across his jaw, looking anywhere but at me, starting to pace the room.

“What?”

“He gave me a choice, everyone or William.”

“You chose your son. Of course.” I state the obvious fact, waiting for the reason she’s pissed. His head droops, still not looking at me. “Why are you acting like you were wrong? He’s the only one who didn’t choose this life.” I have to catch my breath for a second, “You made the right decision.”

His shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“Oliver Jonas Queen, you made the correct choice!”

“Not everyone survived.”

Who?! No! No, don’t ask! It’s not real until… I can’t move over to him, “Oh Oliver… come here.” I scoot over, making just enough space on the small bed for him if we both lay on our sides. Pushing wires out of the way I wait only long enough for him to reluctantly lay down, facing me, before wrapping him in a hug. “You made the right choice.”

His face buries in my hair, hair that I realize was washed and let down at some point while I was asleep. The small trembles of his body, the grieving he will always hide from everyone…I just keep reassuring him, because it’s the truth. He made the right choice in a seemingly impossible decision.

[plotbunnyshipper]

Untitled (for now) Part 03 - 5x23 end

Not beta read (not even spell/grammar checked or read over, just a straight transcription from a stack of sticky notes) , just one more chapter because this one ran long thought out for this one... transcribing from what I wrote down since watching 5x23 last week, should have the last little bit typed up this weekend…

Someone is calling my name. They sound muffled and miles away, but that’s definitely my name.

I drag open my eyes reality slowly kicking in. My voice is a hoarse whisper, “Slade?” I should say we’ll be ok, but that one word was a challenge enough. No, not Slade, I can feel the heat of him against me, the slight movements of breathing don’t rumble with the repeat of my name. “Oliver?” He won’t be able to hear you, whistle… I try to clear my throat for a deep breath but end up in a fit of shallow gasping and coughing interspersing the high tone.

There is a flash of green at the edge of this…pit, and the noise dies on my lips. “Felicity?”

“Hey.” I rasp, stiffly trying to uncurl from the tight huddle against the feverish body beside me while Oliver skids down the slant towards us.

Hand on a radio he tells someone we’re here, alive before getting to the bottom. He almost scoops me up, instead stopping his outreached hands, kissing my forehead and trying to check me over.

“You’re ok?” We both say at the same time.

There is a pause, then he says hesitantly, “Felicity, honey, you’re looking rough.”

Ignoring the obvious truth of it I start, “I’m o-“ my body tries to invalidate my words with a coughing fit. When I manage to breathe again without gasping I turn to questions, my teeth chattering as I try to remember the important things, “William…everyone…did they-?”

“William’s fine, the team…mostly fine. They went to the water- I picked them up in the boat. They said you two…why would you-?”

“I couldn’t just… leave her in a cage to-” I wheeze, my breath stolen.

His hands, still gentle, tighten, the warmth only making me recognize it everywhere else more intensely. The words are quiet, “I love that you care so much, but next time go with the damn group!” He starts saying something, cuts himself off, then starts again, “We flew over this part a day ago, but with the destruction, and lack of bodies…we didn’t see this until the drone- your jacket…” I knew I left it up there. His eyes stray to the other two down here with me then starts to work his arm under my shoulders.

“Slade, he- help him!”

“You first.”

“Oliver,” my hand rests on his, “he got hurt shielding me, please…don’t make me win this. Him.”

I push him, when he tries to protest again and start coughing when trying to argue more. He hurries up and pulls Slade up in a fireman’s carry.  Crawling up as he carries him, I slip getting an additional layer of mud painted along my front, nearly sending me sliding to where Evelyn still lays. Strong hands lift me up the rest of the way.

“You’re a sight-“ John. I hug onto him as he passes Oliver, who nods and goes back for the last of us.

Someone in an ARGUS uniform is looking over Slade in a small aircraft…not a plane, not a helicopter, something I’m too exhausted to make sense of. When I start coughing again, wet rattling aching worse in this position, John grabs an oxygen kit and fits the mask over my face. “Her leg…” The cool air is both horrible with my freezing body, and wonderful as it helps me breathe, I still feel like I’m going to fall asleep any second, so I strain and finish the half thought, “it’s broken…tried to help…”

I get a blanket, an IV, and space to curl up between friends. Two sets of hands hold mine, warming them from ice. OTA forever. I fall asleep before we even take off.

We land on top of a hospital in China not long after and they cart the others off, approaching me with a wheelchair. Oliver, his green hoodie filthy from contact with me, sets me down but my fingers grab his arm before he can leave. “Let go Felicity, I’ll push.” Reluctantly I do.

I end up in a small room, the staff don’t speak English so Oliver is the one lucky enough to translate as I argue that I can clean the mud and ash off myself. “You tell them-,“ I have to pause to catch my breath. Having snatched a washcloth from one of the nurses, I go to town on scrubbing my arm where they want to place sensors, “I’m perfectly capable-“

He starts and they cut him off with words and motions, “They want you to let them do their jobs, they can check to make sure there isn’t anything that needs treatment while they-“

I speak over both of them while the plastic is pulled off a sticky pad and one of the machines to the side starts a quiet beeping, “I am able-“

He holds up his hands, saying something to them, telling me to wait, then gesturing at the nurse who resumes a fast monolog. “The doctor thinks it’s pneumonia.” Pneumonia? “All the smoke you were breathing in…” Stupid pneumonia brought on by stupid smoke inhalation from a stupid idiot trying to blow us all up.

I don’t let my exhaustion show, dipping the washcloth in the basin and continuing to clean towards my fingertips. Of course it’s a ruse, of course it would be easier to let them do it, but I need to be doing something, need to be productive and not show just how much I’m still freaking out on the inside. Hospitals are not my favorite place to be… “Convince her I can do this myself.” I say pointedly, smothering another hacking cough.

Oliver looks like he wants to be away from this showdown of stubbornness but speaks fast. The staff is not pleased. I get serious frowns and a long tirade full of gestures in my direction. He doesn’t translate, and I have to hold my breath to keep the next cough, desperate to get out, lodged in my throat.

Oliver chimes in with an exasperated response when there is a fraction of a second pause. Whatever he said does the trick, because I find the things I need on a small side table pushed up to me as they shuffle out.

“What’d you say?” I ask, tugging off my now brown-gray pants.

He turns towards the closed door, “I let them know how much experience I have loosing arguments to you and how pointless it is to try when you have your mind set on something.”

“Are…are you trying to…why are you turning?”

“Just giving you some privacy.”

Are you insane? You’ve seen-touched-more all of me… “Don’t be weird. Help with the-” I motion at the closure at the back of my shirt, trying to catch my breath again.

He does. “Want me to unhook…?”

I nod, unfolding the shapeless hospital gown. The pressure of my bra eases and the relief is like a blessing. Managing a sincere, “Thank you!” while he cuts the fabrics to allow it to pull off without taking out the IV and monitor leads.

Oliver takes the second washcloth and starts getting my face and neck while I clean my hands, both of us silent. He is extra gentle around the singed skin, and the abrasions from the crash, pausing each time I need to try and clear my lungs.

The thought comes up and I voice it without really considering if it’s an appropriate time, “Marry me.”

“What?” The panicked half smile, the fast glance at the monitors and IV, like he thinks I’m delirious and not really aware of what I said.

I made up my mind, if I got through this I would ask. “We can work on us, but I-“ more strangled gasping for air ruining the moment, “Marry me?”

His eyebrows scrunch together, “I’ve asked you that twice and almost fake married you once.”

“Me too.”

“We can talk about this la-“

“Oliver, marry me.”

“Is that a question or a demand?”

“Not really sure, both? There’s too much crazy in-”  A fit takes me, until I’m dizzy and holding onto his arm to stay sitting up.

“Let me get the nurse.”

“I love you,” I gasp out, “More than love you.”

“Yes. Ok? Yes I still want to marry you, but let’s get you better and talk this out before-“

“I’ll take the yes.”

He kisses my now clean forehead, “Lean back, relax, I’ll be right back with the nurse.”

I get scolded, not that I understand, or that he translates anything but a “She’s worried you’re pushing yourself.” As if it takes that many words in that tone to say just that. A does of something is added to my IV and in minutes everything starts to go slow. I’m clean…clean enough, dressed, medicated, and buried under a mound of blankets of course my eyelids sink closed. Oliver’s hand squeezes mine as the nurse says something that doesn’t sound angry, “Your body needs sleep to get better, I’m going to go check on William. I make some noise of agreement and let the soothing call of sleep overtake me.

[plotbunnyshipper]

Untitled (for now) Part 02 - 5x23 end

Not beta read, not much more than two chapters thought out, transcribing from what I wrote down since watching 5x23 on Wednesday…

A dull, raucous coughing comes from the dark beside me…I’m- We’re alive? Breathing, that sounds like a good idea.  My ear rings, the other not much more than muffled hints, the effect making me feel like I’m moving. I open my eyes, staring up into a gray haze. Where are my glasses? Is this a…a pit?

Everything is sort of numb so it takes a long time blinking before realizing the crush of Slade across me is why I can’t move. The back of his shirt is tatters, fragments of Kevlar and a bloody scorching of blistered skin. “Slade?” No response. A quick glance around as thoughts start working, “Evelyn?” It’s hard to tell what’s around with all the shadows.

There. That’s her head…attached to her body, arms, legs, whole. Is he? Head, back- gross, so gross…protected…”Slade! Evelyn! Slade! God you’re so heavy.” No responses so I try bracing him and trying to wriggle out without moving him too much. At least he’s breathing, and based on the coughing from Evelyn again, she’s alive too.

It is slow progress, but once free I get a better look. I’m no doctor, but even I can tell his burns are serious and Evelyn’s leg is broken. The a heavily bleeding gash just above her hairline isn’t promising, a big chunk of his mask is missing, exposing dirty, bloody skin framed by the jagged edge where it broke away. Both are still out cold.

There has to be something I can use in here. Hunting through the rubble. We’re in a pit, a room that was exposed through the blasts, and debris. The collapsed roof doesn’t leave much in view, but the angle is good enough that later I think I can try to carefully, slowly, climb up to ground level. Framed by the edges I can see Trees burning, thick smoke full of burning leaves and fluttering ashes occasionally raining down soot and embers into the area around us. I salvage a dozen water bottles, and one of those thin, crinkly metallic reflector blankets…and a tiny first aid kit among the debris and useless weapons. It’ll have to do.

Downing one of the waters, I use my jacket as a bag and move everything else out of the mess and over to where the other two people lay. “I’m going to rinse your back.” I say to the unconscious psychopath who inexplicably just saved my life. Nicking one of the water bottles, and quickly getting the dirt and blood off my hands before I dribble it gently as I can to clean the damage. There’s not much I can do for it…cleaner, the big bits of not him picked away. Unfolding one of the few gauze pads as wide as it will go I spread a thin layer from the small tube of antibiotic ointment over it then cover most of his back. That’s about all I can do for him.

Evelyn is no more pleasant. The head wound had clotted before I worked on Slade, so rinsing it means I have to be fast. Ointment and gauze.

I was blessed in my life, as never having had to try and set a broken bone. John would know what to do…He wouldn’t be gagging just trying to- Ugh! No. no, don’t commit that feeling to memory! The bone edges sort of puzzle piece against each other so the leg looks mostly straight. Dry heaves are not aided by the disorientation of my messed up ears.

Looking up, I see my next task. If I don’t get those things away from the edge they’re going to come crashing in and that’s going to be more problems. Grabbing my jacket and Slade’s sword from where I used it on the water bottles, I crawl up and get my first glance at the decimated forest.

The smell of forest fires is sharp and overwhelming, no signs of life anywhere amid the still burning trees or the polluted skies. I use my jacket to grab and move the smouldering debris from the edges. Even with the water burned out, these giant chunks of tree are heavy, so I hack at them and when that fails, try to use the sword as a lever. Like everything else since the blasts started it’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do.

My voice is rough, but talking to myself is slightly more reassuring than just thinking to myself, “Ok. We lived.” The others… “We’re trapped, but those can’t burn forever. ARGUS, Oliver, will come.” Unless they’re already out here?

I take a deep breath but end up coughing and choking on the smoke. Bad idea.

Covering my face with the edge of my shirt I try again, doing a little better before yelling out, “Hello?” …Silence. “Help?” …Still nothing. It’s still light, they wouldn’t have had enough time to find the others and find us yet. Wait…what was that? The groan comes again from down the hole

I skid-scramble, but not fall, back down. Evelyn wants to fight, only the damage to her leg keeps her mostly still. Her slurred insults become background noise, and I slump to catch my breath. Slade still hasn’t woken up and his back is hot, I’m not sure if it’s just from the burning or if it’s an infection setting in. I slowly pour another water bottle over the gauze, trying to help cool him down.

Evelyn says something stupid and my ability to tune her out snaps. “You shut your stupid mouth! We came back for you, so you’d have a shot at living instead of roasting alive in that cage. He didn’t have to help, didn’t have to shield either of us from the explosions. He chose to, so right now he’s miles higher on my list of tolerable people than you are.”

“If you hadn’t-“

“Shut up!”

It’s probably the concussion, and the words are begrudging and full of hate, followed quickly by an insult that I’m quite certain I’ve never been called to my face before, but at least there is a thank you. She falls into a petulant pout as only a teenager can truly perfect. I roll her a couple water bottles and hand off the thermal blanket and climb back up to take my frustration out on moving more embers and charcoal.

Despite my efforts Slade is feverish by nightfall. The only thing creepier than spending a night in a hole with two very dangerous people on a deserted island, is spending the night in a hole with two very dangerous people on an entirely silent deserted island. The occasional crashing thuds, as a tree breaks and topples, doesn’t count. I end up curled up around myself next to Slade, leeching his heat since my jacket is somewhere above ground and the only thing that will get me back up there before daybreak is the sounds of help. They don’t come.

I wake to my own uncontrolled coughing. Hacking out dark globs of whatever my lungs can clear out and gasping for breath is not a pleasant alarm clock and defiantly doesn’t feature a snooze button.

I try to wake Slade, managing to get a single harsh groan, but he’s delirious. Trickling drops of water into his mouth I eye the dwindling stock but still rewet the gauze. Sweat gathers and trails down his face and neck, so I keep pushing the water, until I’ve forced about a cup into him.

My stomach protests the lack of food but even searching more near where the kit was doesn’t produce anything edible. I force myself back up.

The fires are out. Think positive. The fires are out so we’ll be easier to find, to reach. I look around the landscape of black and gray. The explosions should have taken out all the landmines. Nothing else comes to mind that can be remotely categorized as good. As a miserable icy drizzle starts I realize I should have included that it wasn’t raining. It’s not even enough to get clean-ish with, just enough to chill to the bone and make things slickly muddy.

I drag a couple more things to the edge of the destruction, it’ll be easier to spot a big blank than to spot an arrow…I hope.

The rest of the day is a freezing coughing huddle, helping inch Evelyn over to share the Slade heat. She does not share the small blanket. I manage to get him to swallow an entire bottle of water, drop by drop. Night falls at some point, rolling in and out of a fitful sleep I don’t notice. Each waking breath starts to feel like I’m drowning, and I curl up closer with the two people who in recent memory would probably have had no hesitation in killing me. We will be ok. They’ll find us…soon. They’ll be here soon…

[plotbunnyshipper]

Untitled (for now) 01 - 5x23 end

Not beta read, not much more than two chapters thought out, transcribing from what I wrote down since watching 5x23 on Wednesday...

“Supply ship, Eastern shore, follow him –,“ I point at Slade, “Now!”

There are no questions. We run, following Slade’s breakneck strides, weaving through trees along what cannot possibly be a path. Samantha trips on a tree root but John grabs her, half carrying until she can get her footing and keep moving.

A thought has me cursing out. “Arte-Evelyn! We left her in that cage-“

One of the boys snaps, “He told you run, then there’s no time! Run!”

No time…no time, but I can’t just… “The boat is east?” I palm the tablet that can help me get where I need to go. Evelyn, then meet with them, make a shortest path through the island imagery. Just in case…Just in case…Just in case. “Curtis, take this!” he slows from the front of the pack, managing to grab the comms piece as I tap at the tablet, tracing out a path and breaking off at a run, “Get Samantha to that boat- I’ll meet you there!” There is half a second of protests, and I take on my best commanding voice, “Hurry!”

Slade yells out harsh instructions to Nyssa, then in long strides catches up, yanking my shoulder to navigate us, “This way Ms. Smoak.”

Our feet never slow, and they don’t follow us.

I try to think it out, how to disable the devices, I can’t type and run, but I can think. I just need enough to make a safe space…if I can knock individual ones off the network of them…Pull the antennae off, if they can’t get the signal…

As we crash out into the clearing Evelyn is kicking at the cage hard and fast, desperation in speed. She looks up with a snarl, “You just had to take my key, didn’t you?”

“You just had to be a backstabbing bitch, didn’t you? We didn’t have to come for you, but here we are, so shut up, you’re going to need to run.”

“I have a bad feeling about this…” Slades voice is a low growl, “We’re not going to make it to the boat.” He eyes Evelyn as I frantically work on the devices.

Just in case...

Managing to disconnect the first from their network is the hardest, That son of a bitch is smart, but I’m smarter. After that it just takes about ten seconds at each, running an expanding circle to grab the info I need to break the individual ones, the network still refuses to go down as a group.

Slade grabs and lobs the ones I finish away, into the woods, Evelyn resumes kicking. It’s a small circle, is it too small? My fingers fly, code after code. Don’t think about the others…don’t think about them, they’ll be safe, they’re smart, they’re…Focus!

There is a blast from far away and the tablet shows the start of a chain detonation. “God-!“

Slade takes down the lock with one savage kick that should not be possible from someone locked up in an ARGUS cell for any length of time. Pulling down his mask and dragging Evelyn out of the cage to the middle of the ‘safe’ area, “Smoak! Here,” His arm extends, “now!”

The world has gone crazy as I run to Slade, and he pulls us tighter, “Get down then pray to whatever gods you believe in!”

His body covers, wraps around us, Evelyn fighting him. “Relax! Don’t tense, it’s how drunk people survive car wrecks.”

“This is no car wreck.” He pushes us forward, towards the ground, sheltering with his larger frame…

I manage a tight, disbelieving, “Thank you.” As the nearby blasts throw us airborne.

Reality goes too chaotic to process with explosions and fire, and an odd metallic shrieking to understand what’s happening in a jumble of seconds before everything goes dark.

[plotbunnyshipper]

Bits and Pieces - 02

Just a super short one that came to mind pre-5x23 airing. Because I’m hoping for some fun like when  Nyssa and Merlin had their couple seconds of banter when Felicity and Slade (even in theory less crazy due to the Mirakuru being cured) see each other again. Here’s hoping that the Arrow writers + actor improve will scratch that itch. Let’s see how misleading that preview ends up being… (Ao3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/10951635)

There is a harsh growling sound. Against every instinct I turn and look, rather than listening to the sane part of my brain which demands an attempt to flee. I stare straight into the face of a person that, when last we met, I throat punched with the Mirakuru cure. His stay with ARGUS doesn’t seem to have made him look any less feral, lethal, scary as hell…

His sword is pointed at me and I stammer, “Mr. Stroke- Deathstroke, Slade, Mr. Slade…you-you are an unexpected surprise.” He lifts the mask slightly, so it rests on the top of his head. Not any less terrifying. “Does everyone who was stranded here return to take these trips down memory lane, or just the few of you? Gotta tell you, there is a whole industry around isolated tropical paradises you should look into.”

“Watch yourself Felicity,” he says each syllable of my name as if they are separate words, “this island is full of surprises. There are a few I would be happy to introduce you to.”

The babble, that had been readying to be a scathing retort, dies on my tongue.

Oliver finishes checking the perimeter, stepping between Slade and the rest of us. His eyes looking each of us over again, unhidden relief on his face when he sees everyone relatively unhurt, the small touches…reassurances that we each are most certainly real on this island of nightmares. “Where’s Dinah? Rene?”

John finishes unlocking his cuffs, moving on to help Thea. “Haven’t seen them.”

[plotbunnyshipper]

Bits and Pieces - 01

Rather than posting many, I'm just going to shove the little short bits and scenes that pop into my head as chapters in this for now. I may work them in elsewhere later, but for the moment here is where they'll stay. (And Ao3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/10951635)

I'm not saying they're good, they're definitely not beta'd, but it gets them out of my notes document.

A thought slithers across my mind. It’s too easy, it couldn’t work…right? The sounds of fighting are so loud and close that I can barely think it through. They need me, and they need it done in the next two hours or else they’ve lost their window…It could work! “Tranq me.” I get the side eye, but otherwise am ignored. “They have a limited window and need me cooperative for it. Come on…” I look for the weakest link, ”Curtis.”

“No. Hell no.” He’s just close enough though, I grab the tranquilizer gun holstered on his leg while he’s busy fighting. Sometimes you’ve gotta do it for yourself.

Sometimes I wish I could selectively erase things I made in the past. It would make situations like this less of a reoccurring thing. These idiots need me to unlock the codex, lucky that I am the only one with the information they need to make it work, because I’m the idiot who created it. When the snatch and grab failed to work earlier in the day and their limited window of opportunity rapidly closing their genius plan is to siege us.

My team, my friends, make a circle, fighting while I stand there in the center like useless bait. Even with all of them, there are too many of these people and they just keep getting closer.. At least they’re not using guns, or knives, or-

“Give us Ms. Smoak and we’ll leave the rest of you alone. She will be returned, unharmed, when she has unlocked the codex.” John doesn’t even hesitate, punching that smug asshole in the face, a valid response I have come to expect from any of them.

A thought slithers across my mind. It’s too easy, it couldn’t work…right? The sounds of fighting are so loud and close that I can barely think it through. They need me, and they need it done in the next two hours or else they’ve lost their window…It could work! “Tranq me.” I get the side eye, but otherwise am ignored. “They have a limited window and need me cooperative for it. Come on…” I look for the weakest link, ”Curtis.”

“No. Hell no.” He’s just close enough though, I grab the tranquilizer gun holstered on his leg while he’s busy fighting. Sometimes you’ve gotta do it for yourself.

Curtis curses, taking a hit while grabbing at my hands.

“Greenie! She’s going to-“ Greenie? Have you lost your mind?

‘Felicity?” Oliver’s altered voice is strained with exertion over the comm.

“Yes Sir?” I try to make it light, distracting from my goal so he won’t stop, drop, and grab.

“You need to be ready to run.”

“Actually, just the opposite.” I don’t miss the looks John and Dinah give each other, collectively backing in a step as another swarm of bodies joins our opponents. I cock the weapon, unfamiliar with this one, but it’s definitely one of the tranqs in its bright colors. “I need to take myself out of the equation.” I flinch as it punches deep into muscle. Son Of A Bitch! More immediately strike into the already numbing area with faint noises, and my leg starts then manages to not quite give out. I didn’t realize this was quite so automatic… “Oops.”

My racing heartbeat spreads the drugs through my system, making the room start to spin before I can even get my hand to release. The tranq gun clatters to the ground and I start to follow as everything goes wobbly.

A green blur swoops me up. I make a whimper at the dulled flare of pain as he yanks the darts out of my thigh. “Four? God Felicity, four!?” His voice is stretchy, a long tunnel of sound, swirling like the drain of shadows engulfing me.

I don’t feel so… My mouth opens and closes, words failing as chills wrack through me. Can’t-

“What were you thinking? That’s enough to take d-“

<{———{[{  

My cocoon starts fraying, edges of noise and light bleeding into the delightfully smothering gray. Beeping, hissing, some monotone chatter of a PA system…too far away to understand. Pale swaths of light make me close my blurry eyes again before they can focus.

<{———{[{  

Something pulls open my eyelid, another something shines painfully bright light into my eye and I groan a half formed protest at the intrusion. My name is called and I complain a weak, “Turn it off.” Only to have it blind my other eye.

“That was the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.” When Oliver is that quiet, in that tone he is lethally angry

“It worked.”

“It worked? It worked in stopping your heart.” That would explain the pain. “If I hadn’t sucked some of the extra out before it…You never do something like that again.”

A small nod is my agreement. He keeps snarling, and I try to listen, I do, but I’m so tired….

<{———{[{  

The piercing shriek of my mom, recognizable anywhere, has me jerking awake, the fingers laced with mine, grip tight and I try to make sense of where I am. 

[stories-and-words]

“That’s disgusting, You`re lucky you`re cute.”

He looked over at his girlfriend, who was currently dancing to music and drinking Gatorade. He turned back around and before he knew it, she had spilt the drink on her shirt and the rug of their shared apartment. Her boyfriend sighed as he walked to the kitchen to grab some paper towels. As he walked back, he noticed her still singing until he grabbed her hand and asked for some help. The girl nodded and started cleaning up the mess. Her boyfriend turned to look at her and gave her a short but sweet kiss. As they pulled away, she chuckled as her boyfriend sighed and looked at her. “That’s disgusting, You’re lucky you’re cute.”