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angelwars11 · 4 years

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Title: Remembrance

Prompt: Vespers

Pairing: Jesse/Kix

Rating: G

Word Count: 2k

‘During battle, his senses become hyper-aware and then so numb afterwards that he can barely even feel the blood on his fingertips. It paints his hands in scarlet that once was inside of his vode’s bodies, flowing freely and keeping them alive. Kix hates that part—when he’ll exit a tent and stare down at his hands, and finally address it.The sensation of silent distaste surrounds him in white and black ghostly shadows of what once was.’

—

‘To no man or being will I cause or permit harm to befall, nor will I refuse aid to any who seek it. These obligations I willingly and freely take upon myself in tradition of those that have come before me. These are things we do so that other may live.’ -The Medic’s creed.

This is day 2 of the ClonecestInJuly challenge! I finally finished this story, oh my lord; it took forever!! Thank you to all my beta readers/editors, @blazesurrender, @maplerosekisses, and @starimperial. You all did an amazing job and I really appreciate it. I hope you all enjoy this one! Lots of angst and tears and pain this time! *evil laughter*

*Warning: Very VERY brief mentioning about a suicide attempt

Fire explodes from left to right. Troopers scream in pain, in agony. Multiple howls of anguish and despair bounce across the damaged land as Kix runs to each and every injured trooper—checking on them to make sure they are still alive. If they are, they get a tag indicating whether they have minor or major injuries. Deceased soldiers receive black tags indicating death for those who will come to collect the bodies and bury them later.

Kix almost falls to his knees when an explosion sends him forward. He growls under his breath and continues blasting away as he goes. White and blue fall to the ground like fallen angels from the heavens. It’s anything but graceful; they crumple unceremoniously to the ground in bloody heaps of tangled limbs. Kix kneels down, checks for their pulses, and tags them. He administers a small dosage of painkillers out of empathy.

“You’ll be okay. The other medics will come for you soon,” Kix reassures each one of them who is alive before he moves on.

It’s a never-ending cycle of dread, sorrow, and frustration, but he keeps moving. He can’t stop for long periods of time or other men who need him will die from their wounds. Kix cannot let that happen; he will save as many brothers as he can, even if he has to leave a couple with some painkillers and move on. ‘They will be okay’ he always reassures himself even in these dire situations.

During the battle, his senses become hyper-aware and then so numb afterward that he can barely even feel the blood on his fingertips. It paints his hands in scarlet that once was inside of his vode's bodies, flowing freely and keeping them alive. Kix hates that part —when he’ll exit a tent and stare down at his hands, and finally address it. The sensation of silent distaste surrounds him in white and black ghostly shadows of what once was.

Kix is never verbal about how much he hates feeling the blood on his hands. Other times, especially after a hard battle like this one, he’ll make it known to everyone near him how broken he truly can be. Kix’s sight blurs with tears of absolute anger and hatred. He is angry that he's lost vode, and he despises this war for what it’s done to them, to him! More blaster rifles sound through the fog in the distance and droid poppers crackle nearby, too close for comfort.

The gun in his hands feels so heavy all of a sudden. He doesn’t want to hold it anymore; he hates it. He wants to drop it and run away, but he can’t because—I have to save them all! Kix can taste salt from the sweat dotting on his upper lip as it makes its way down and into his mouth. He doesn’t mind because it’s a distraction from all the blood, horror, and gore he sees beyond the black visor hiding his terrified features.

He may seem like an emotionless soldier, but underneath he’s kriffing scared, petrified even. Kix has to hide all that unadulterated terror in the back of his mind and raise his walls up to protect himself from getting exposed to the wrong people.

Kix slams his heavily fortified facade up so he can save lives.

Another brother falls to the ground in pain. He’s not dead, not yet, so Kix dashes across till he reaches the white armor decorated in contrasting red, and pulls him into a hiding spot to check him.

What lives am I saving? I keep losing so many! So karking many!

“It’s okay, udesii. Udesii, vod. You are going to be okay. Alright?” Kix kneels down beside the injured trooper and takes off his white med-pack.

This is going to be a long day.

...

Hours later, it's over. The sun has set and the temperature has dropped to comfortable and manageable levels. Gray clouds create a dark formation in the sky in the silence that is only broken by the occasional noise—moans of agony, the sounds of cleaning and quiet chattering, troopers walking the perimeters, or the officers debriefing with the Generals. Despite the silence the night carries, there is still so much going on.

The medical tents are a holy mess of different sounds, smells, and sights. The worst part is the distinguishable metallic scent of blood on surgery tools that have to be left out on silver platters. Not surprising at all; the Republic does not give aid to the 501st or provide appropriate sterilization, which means that microorganisms live on the blades of each tool. It disheartens Kix to be well aware of that disgusting and unsanitary fact.

Kix is used to the smells, however, thanks to years and years of being a medic. It's fortunately —and unfortunately— a side effect of olfactory fatigue, which is also known as nose blindness.

Kix stares at the glowing holo-pad with empty golden eyes as his finger skids across the glass. Numbers move about on the screen. There are many casualties and many designation numbers—names—covering his holo-pad. On and on until he reaches the very bottom and lets out a shaky breath. Exhausted and trembling, he places it on the nearest tray, like a pitiful coward who could barely hold in his lunch, and walks out into the lukewarm night.

He stumbles as far away from the tents as possible, near a little grove of trees, and becomes sick. Kix trembles for so long with his clammy glove-covered palms on his knees and saliva slowly dripping from between his pale lips and sickly green covering the bridge of his nose. He says the blood doesn’t bother him, and it doesn’t, not on its own, but the number of men that died today does.

The green treetops up above sway as Kix slowly kneels in the sand near the pond, nearly as silent as the world around him. Nothing will bother him as long as he stays right here away from the others. He can still feel their blood on his hands, and his skin itches like holes cover every inch of it. He can still hear their cries of pain and agony, fear, and devastation—sounds that carry in range for miles, especially when one has lost a loved one. Kix couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he lost Jesse to the clankers on the battlefield. What if Jesse had died alone without Kix to be there for him?

Kix closes his eyes against the negative thoughts. Jesse may not be with him right now because he's in a debriefing, but he'll come back and find Kix. He’ll search out his riduur like always, no matter where they are. Nonetheless, Kix feels so lonely that he digs his blunt nails into his skin until they create half-moon indents. Kix wants so badly for his cyare to come back and hold him, sing to him, and comfort him any way he can till the nightmare is over.

The numbers Kix saw on his holo-pad left him pale and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like sandpaper.

Death count: Thirty-five men.

Kix grunts and slams his hand into the ground.

“Kriff,” He hisses in frustration. He lowers his head towards the soft sand under his body and breathes. The silence is broken temporarily by the wind whipping around him, the feel of it on his skin comforting, almost a physical touch.

The wind is practically hugging him.

“Kix,” A voice calls. A familiar, caring voice that almost always has an undertone of warm amusement in it.

Jesse.

He feels the sand under him shift as Jesse kneels beside him.

“Hey, you okay?” Jesse asks. He eyes the puddle of stomach bile a couple of meters away with concern before he glances at the medic once again; Jesse offers a sympathetic smile and his facial expressions soften a great deal. Kix stares at the moving sand for a second, blank and wide-eyed, before he turns his attention onto Jesse with eyes full of exhaustion and hopelessness. Jesse immediately pulls him into a consoling hug.

“Okay, it's okay. I've got you.” Jesse brushes his hand back and forth along his back and makes small shushing sounds. “What do you need?”

Kix tucks his face into the side of his neck. Hot salty tears roll down his cheeks and cross paths with the sweat and grime covering his face to create visible tear tracks. Kix tries to focus on breathing for a moment but the smoldering negative feelings return like an avalanche.

“There were so many that died, Jess. Force, I lost so many good men. All of them were good men. So man shinies...it was their first battle and they didn't even make it. It…it hurts to have to run, check them over the best I can, mark their bodies, and then keep moving. But the ones who died… Why do I have to leave so soon? Why can't I say goodbye to them,” Kix whispers into the junction between his collarbone and neck.

Jesse's hand halts on his shoulder.

“You still can. Right now. A prayer for the dead, for our brothers who've marched on to join our aliit in tra.”

Kix blinks pensively before nodding without saying another word. Jesse is right. Kix can still have a Vesper and pray for their dead brothers. It’s safe to do so now that the battle is over and the surge of adrenaline has faded. Kix isn't needed right now; the patients are resting and the other medics are watching over them, which means that Kix is free to rest— or pray with his riduur.

The two of them place their hands on their knees and bow their heads.

Kix whispers solemnly, “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.” His eyes flutter closed.

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum,” Jesse whispers after him.

Kix opens his eyes and gazes up at the stars. Each one looks the same but they are all unique and different. Just like us clones. Kix opens his mouth and lets out a sigh that’s weary but resigned.

"Bongo." The first name. The first known trooper he tried to save. When Kix found him stuck under a huge pile of rubble he immediately remembered his name. The poor trooper was so scared; he thought he would die alone but Kix was there with him at the very end.

He even held Bongo's hand as the life departed his gilded eyes.

"Anzanti." The second name. A shiny who came to his med-bay once asking for help because he found one of their brothers trying to hurt himself in the ‘fresher. Anzanti was afraid and tried his hardest to distract their brother, Duros, while Kix stopped him from successfully taking his own life. Anzanti begged Kix not to tell the higher-ups, the Generals. He promised the medic he’d watch over Duros and would never take his eyes off of him.

Now Anzanti is gone.

Who will watch over Duros?

Kix knows that Duros did not die in the battle which means that Kix can find him and make sure he’s safe and well. With Azanti gone there’s no telling whether Duros, with that knowledge, will try and hurt himself again.

Kix makes a little mental note to search for Duros later. For Anzanti.

Three more shinies. "LMC-211. Ennez. Sephi." Kix remembers their names only because he saw them on the list; like many names he’ll utter in remembrance tonight.

And maybe a little more.

On and on and on till he hit the last name.

Kix swallows his grief. "Heart." His throat feels so parched without a drink of water.

Jesse thinks he's finished so he opens his mouth to say something to console him but—"Echo," Kix pushes through clenched teeth. Jesse jerks up in surprise and then he sighs, soft and reminiscent.

"Hardcase," The medic groans out this one—a painful name to remember. A name that belonged to a spirited, uplifting, and crazy vod that now only two remember. Kix ends it with a choked off sob and his arms curl around his abdomen in grief; he leans forward and rocks back and forth to withhold the tears from breaking through his carefully constructed walls. Jesse raises his hand to steady him and console him but he aborts the movement when Kix makes a sound of abandon.

Jesse sighs internally. Oh, Kix.

"Dogma," Kix growls, irate. His fingers grab at the sand that falls away around his trembling knees and legs; Kix throws it in a frantic attempt to find another outlet for his rage. Jesse lowers his head, as he is angry too but holds it back and glares at the ground.

Kix bites his tongue till it almost bleeds. So many vode. Gone. Gone!

"Tup…" Tears trickle down his face in his grief; his shoulders shudder with barely restrained fury and quickly growing anxiety. Calm yourself Kix, come on! Come down. This isn’t you and you know it. Just breathe...in and out. Be at peace. His eyes flutter closed again and his chest lifts with each careful breath.

Jesse watches him with pride, his eyes burning with that aching urge to cry in frustration.

Kix tips his head back finally and stares up at the stars for who knows how long. Millions of them glow in the night, showing the way like a lantern. There are crimson, azure, white, gold, and orange ones. Each radiating star creates part of a constellation up there, and each one is massive, alive right down to the very core of their divine being.

Jesse settles one hand on Kix's shoulder, and finally, Kix looks over at him and shivers involuntarily. Jesse nods in silent understanding.

"Fives," Kix whispers the last name almost as if he’ll get struck down. "I couldn't save him, Jess. I stood there and let him walk out of that 'fresher, I should've,” —Kix bites the inside of his cheek to stop the tears. “I should've stopped him from going out there, from getting killed."

"You couldn’t have done anything, cyare. Fives… He did something that got him into trouble, and if we had helped him in any way then we could’ve been arrested. We could’ve been taken from the battlefront and decommissioned. And I…I believe you did the right thing, Kix. Okay?" Jesse hugs him gently.

Kix takes a sharp breath and tenses.

"Stop blaming yourself for their deaths. You had nothing to do with it, and you weren’t the one who killed them. You tried your best to save them and that’s all that matters." Jesse breaks their hug in an instant so then he can stare at Kix firmly.

"Did you kill them? Any of them?" Jesse asks. Kix looks down and Jesse grabs his chin softly and brings it back up.

"Did you kill them?" He repeats, but this time plain-spoken.

"No. No, I didn't."

"Good."

"But I miss them so damn much! I wish none of them died! I wish they were here right now, next to us."

"I do too darling. I miss them every day," Jesse whispers. He cocks his head to the side, and a small tear slides down the right side of his face. Kix reaches up immediately and wipes it away.

It's silent, giving Kix time to think for a moment.

"Where they are; they are marching ahead in Tra. With Gods, we cannot see. But we will join them when it's our time as well," Kix says. His eyes, hopeful.

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la," Jesse whispers. He looks up at the sky in silence.

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la," Kix echoes.

Like that, the prayer is over. They whispered the names of the fallen and their loved ones and then they said ‘they are not gone, only marching far away.’ Afterward, the two of them remain curled against one another in the relentless sand; Jesse and Kix stare up at the heavenly skies above filled with gas giants and stars of pure beauty. The two troopers' fingers interlock together in between their thighs and then Kix rests the side of his head against Jesse's armored shoulder.

"Thank you, Jess." Kix slowly closes his eyes.

Jesse leans over and kisses his forehead.

"Of course, cyare."

In the far distance, the planet’s second moon beamed down upon a vivid, tiny funnel-shaped flower called a Statice. It stands at least 28 inches in height. The flower features small, delicate petals that fluff together atop green stems in a beautiful soft shade of pink. The Statice looks spectacular under the soft glow of radiance. The petals of this flower are visibly ethereal in every way.

Its pink shade stands for something. A special meaning.

It symbolizes Remembrance.

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mcudarklibrary · 4 years

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Author of the Month Q&A: April

We are beyond excited to celebrate the writings of @sapphirescrolls and we just know that you are going to love her stories. We recently caught up with this fabulous author to discuss all things dark fics and MCU.

Any Cute History Behind Your User Name?

Perhaps not cute, but honest. I just started this blog up when I felt pretty much blah. I had the blues, was a bit angsty and I initially wrote when I felt down. Blue writing, turned into sapphirescrolls.

How Long Have You Been Writing Fics of Any Kind?

I had a huge imagination when I was a kid, and would tell stories to other kids who would listen. I would say ‘let's go on an adventure!!’ And later, as a teen, I started writing things down. Mostly just short fantasy style drabbles.

What Was The First Fan Fic You Ever Wrote?

I wrote a Star Trek fan fic back in 2002 I believe. It’s never seen the light of day! Lol *whispers* and it neverrrr will.

What Was The First Fandom You Wrote For?

It was the Star Trek fandom. I was so into the future possibilities that genre offered I loved it, still do to this day.

Your First Marvel Crush?

Absolutely Bucky Barnes. I’ve always had a thing for villains. And it was no different when I saw the Winter Soldier. Right off I was sucked into it. But of course we all know now he’s not. And I still have a huge crush!

Your Favourite Fandom Writers

I love @titty-teetee, she hasn’t published any of her stories yet. But she is a story-teller with fantastic tales of her own. She has a brilliant mind and when I get slumped she reminds me why I write, I go to her with my off the wall plots and she cheers me on lol.

I adore @threeminutesoflife, not only is she talented but a sweetheart too! Her story Neighborhood Watch *chef’s kiss* only feeds my need for dark!Steve Rogers.

Honestly, pretty much anybody I reblog I love their work. I tag them under fic rec! It's a shame I can’t always get around to reading as much as I want. But they are fantastic!

Favourite Kink

I like a lot of different things >:D Spanking, restraint, breeding kink, somnophilia, power play.

Favourite Trope

Hm. I’m a sucker for sex pollen. Just the whole we need to get into it right now, just sends me!

Tell Us A Secret

Before my finished work reaches a post it goes through a lot. I write in comic sans, it helps with dyslexia. After I re-read through it making sure sentences are in order, hopefully the story I attempted is conveyed right lol. I will run it through Grammarly and also Hemingway Editor. Even then some of my earlier posts still have mistakes in them, sorry about that. I’ll correct it and what not, change the font and put it on a google doc for my bff to beta read it.

Motivation For Writing

At first I was alone when I started posting fics. So I couldn’t really rely on feedback to urge me on, cause I never received any. I kept motivated because I wanted to see what I was capable of creating. Sorta like to stretch myself and maybe challenge myself to do it better than I had before. But then I found folks, or they found me and it’s been wonderful! Sometimes what I put out is super dark, I just hope there is something in a story another would appreciate. So now that adds to my motivation as well.

What Got You Into Dark Fics

I was on my alt account and came across this fic. It said dark and it was written in the MCU. I read through it. I immediately said to myself ‘holy shit people are posting the filth I’ve been thinking of?! Brilliant!!” lol So that was like an invitation to me to start posting.

I’ve never been great with writing softer stories, although I do try from time to time. But I do love reading them though. But I see a character and I can go to a dark place pretty fast. I think I always have, even when I was younger.

#mcudarklibraryauthorofthemonth #mcudarklibrary #sapphirescrolls

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rpgmgames · 6 years

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September’s Featured Game: Ghost Hospital

DEVELOPER(S): Lev, Kip, Rose, Tredlocity, C, Bittersweet ENGINE: RPGMaker MV GENRE: Adventure, RPG WARNINGS: Anxiety, Body horror, Implied child harm SUMMARY: Ghost Hospital is a game about anxiety, depression, despair, mental rock bottoms, and, of course, ghosts. You play as Robin, a twelve-year-old girl who has an anxiety disorder and is very much alive in this hospital meant for beings that are not alive. Frankly, her anxiety was already bad enough before she landed in a hospital full of dead people, the still-shambling shells of ancient ghosts who try to take her down for a sweet taste of life, and the hospital directors hellbent on keeping her contained, and more importantly, away from the reason she's REALLY there. Thankfully, you have your new friends Jay and Sarcastic Ghost- Jay is a ghost about your age, and still a very new arrival to the hospital, and Sarcastic Ghost…well, he's an amorphous blob of a ghost, who talks a lot despite not having a mouth.

Download the demo here!

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! Lev: Hey, my name is Lev! I'm an artist and storyteller, and though I've wanted to make games for a long time, this is my first serious attempt! Most of my work is about my experiences in mental illness. Kip: I'm a freelance artist being allowed to write cheap jokes in ghost form. Rose: I'm a freelance writer and editor for the game! I also work on dialogue and story drafting. Tredlocity: My name is Tredlocity! I do some character designs and writing in the game! C: c / ghoul is a character designer, comic artist and Halloween enthusiast. They're currently apart of several indie game teams and are writing the webcomic, This Dark Forest of Ours. Bittersweet: I'm Kendall (AKA Bittersweet), and I'm the resident music person (one of two, technically, but the other left the project unfortunately.) This is my first (and thus far only) major soundtrack composition project, but thus far, it's been a satisfying one!

What is your project about? What inspired you to create your game initially? *Lev: Ghost Hospital is a game about anxiety, and the game was born out of an idea to put someone in the shoes of someone with clinical anxiety and depression without going for the prototypical 'horror game' or 'walking simulator', giving more game-friendly, practical narrative and gameplay examples of how it effects people.

How long have you been working on your project? *Lev: The game started development in late 2016 as a thesis project for college. At its inital completion, it was more of a beta or proof of concept than a demo- in its current state, it's far closer to what we have envisioned for the final project.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Lev: Absolutely! The biggest influences are OFF, Yume Nikki, and Sweet Home, and a lot of Gameboy Color graphics and aesthetics- namely, Pokemon GSC and the GBC Zelda Games.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Lev: RPG Maker is a versatile engine, but still fairly restrictive, so getting all the effects I wanted to work was challenging. Mental illness and real life have been taking a toll on development time, too. Getting things to work took teaching myself some javascript, and after being in serious development for this long, I've found ways to motivate myself to keep working. Having other people checking in on you helps, too.

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Lev: In its very first inital pitch, it was much closer to Yume Nikki, being more atmospheric and serious. At some point in character and world development, though, I couldn't bear to make it a stoic adventure, and with most of the stuff I already take inspiration from, it's hard for me to not put jokes into the media I make, anyway.

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Lev: At the beginning, it was just me working on everything. The first people I brought on board were my concept artist, Kip, my writer, Rose, and my musician, Bittersweet. I can't do music on my own, and I knew from word go that I wanted this to be the kind of game with a strong story and a lot of unique NPCs.

What is the best part of developing the game? *Lev: Call me biased, but the most fun part is making the art for it. It's hard for me to motivate myself to keep working if I'm just using default placeholder sprites, I have to make new NPCs to keep myself interested. It's not the most convenient, but it's fun to do, and it actually really does help with my workflow.

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Lev: Oh, absolutely. RPG Maker games have a bad reputation for being very cut-and-paste, and there's a lot of those out there. But it just takes a bit of effort to make yourself and your game stand out, and it can be done absolutely beautifully! The latest one I've played was Hylics, completely surreal and wonderful.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Lev: Robin is a sort of proxy character for myself, so...I'm a bit biased on her. I love Jay a lot, too, he's kinda the friend I wish I had in elementary school when all this first showed up, haha. *Tredlocity: As someone who faces anxiety on a daily basis, I relate to Robin a lot. Though I would say my favorite character is Jay, since he can shoot plasma and has blue hair. *C: I'm partial to Coop [upcoming character], not just bc I designed them but bc I love big sister types. *Rose: I also relate to robin and jay! i try to control my anxiety while remaining positive and hopeful about situations. *Bittersweet: As an anxiety-riddled person, I relate immensely to Robin. However, my favorite character by far has to be Carna. (There's another character I'm particularly looking forward to when the full version of the game is released, though~)

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Lev: Honestly, there's a few things I wanted the game to be able to do at the start that I wasn't able to make happen. I spent a LOT of time trying to get it to work without having to go in and code it myself, and I wish I'd been able to take a step back, remind myself that this is my first serious project, and just stop worrying so much about what, in the end, would've been a minor detail, anyway.

Once you finish your project, do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Lev: Chances are I'm gonna leave it alone, but if I go back, I HAVE had a bit of a 'Ghost College' AU where they're exploring a haunted old library on their college campus instead of being trapped in a ghost hospital. It'd probably be cool as a point-and-click adventure, but it wouldn't exactly be a canon exploration of the postgame.

What do you look most forward to upon/after release? *Lev: I'm actually working on a few other projects, so being able to work on those more freely would be great, especially considering I'm really bad at keeping my own limits in mind, haha.

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Lev: Mostly, I'm afraid that making a game about a subject like this, as a minority and with other people in my team that would be considered minorities, that releasing this game to the mainstream public would get me a lot of negative attention from people who think that people like us don't belong in the gaming sphere. It's pretty nerve-wracking, but after the positive reception of games like Undertale and SLARPG, it's getting easier to convince myself that I should be more afraid of people just generally not liking the game, haha.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Lev: Have someone to work with! DEFINITELY have someone to work with. Even if it's just a friend to bounce ideas off of or someone to ask if you've been working on the game, having someone else involved helps a lot. And specifically for RPG Maker- if you can, replace your default font with a different one. It's a minor detail, but it goes a long way towards making your game feel more original. *C: Always have a backlog of different projects. I have about four or five ideas constantly on rotation so I don't burn myself out on just one. *Tredlocity: My advice for any creatives is to start small, and just get it out. Feedback is a great motivator, and the only way to get better at something is to keep doing it! *Rose: I think some good advice is to write a few drafts of whatever it is you're working on in order to see which version you'd like to continue! let your work have different scenarios and situations based on various elements you insert or take out of a story, game, or other piece. *Bittersweet: Don't pressure yourself to a dead-set deadline. I know, you want to get this project out eventually, and if you're on a roll with development then all the power to you, but if you're struggling, don't let it burn you out. That's just unhealthy.

Question from last month's featured dev @toxicshroomswamp: How do you feel about your main character(s)? What piece of life advice would you give them? *Lev: I love my main characters, I love them like my own children. I would probably tell Robin that she'll learn to handle everything, it won't be so scary forever. I'd tell Jay that stopping for a minute and thinking is way more important than it seems. I'd tell Sarcastic ghost to shut up.

We mods would like to thank Lev, Kip, Rose, Tredlocity, C, and Bittersweet for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Ghost Hospital if you haven’t already! See you next month!

- Mods Gold & Platinum

#rpgmaker #rpg maker #indie games #pixel games #ghost hospital #ghost hospital (game)#game of the month #gotm #game dev #game making #gotm september #september 2018 #2018

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mindibindi · 6 years

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Do you have any tips for writing fanfiction?

Hey, Anon, thanks for the ask and sorry about the delayin replying. I’ve been writing fanfiction for so long that I’ve gotten into abit of a routine with it so I had to have a think about what I actually do. These tipsare based on my own writing practice, experience and approach to fanfic.But I would encourage you to keep asking this question, keep chatting withother authors (some might be kind enough to comment here) as you search for your ownunique writing style and practice. Everyone’s will be different and, as long asit works, I say stick with it. I’m assuming that you’re a new or aspiringauthor so I hope one, some or all of these tips prove useful.

1. Get In The Zone: Find the time of day when yourbest writing happens. For me (rather inconveniently when there’s work to bedone), this is first thing in the morning. For others, I’ve heard it’s themiddle of the day or late at night. But you will know this time when you find itbecause words and ideas will flow freely and easily, faster sometimes than yourfingers can keep up. Revel in this time, use it well then stop writing when theenergy runs out. Nothing good was ever produced by pushing past inspirationinto frustration or exhaustion. That said, inspiration can strike at any time – while watchingan ep or taking a walk or going about your work or trying to fall asleep. When itdoes – whether it’s an opening line, a plot point or snippet of dialogue – jotthose ideas down.

2. Watch (and Rewatch) Your Source Material: Thismay sound obvious (and not much of a chore for a fan) but watching whatevermovie/show/whatever you’re working from helps you to pick up the jargon of thatworld, to absorb the particular milieu, to know the people, places and canon(before you presumably diverge from it). The best fanfic gets both the bigpicture and the little details right. Without these firmly in place, you riskwriting a story that doesn’t ring true to the basic characters, tone orsituation you’re attempting to emulate. You want to extend a reality you love,not break it. So always be on the lookout for any little thing that mightfracture this reality and cause readers to fall out of a world they (you mustassume) know equally well. As a reader, there’s always a jolt when this happens, a dishearteningplummet. So know your stuff before you put pen to paper.

3. Get the Voices Right: Unlike character which canbe ambiguous, changeable and open to interpretation, every fan becomes attuned tothe particular voices of their favourite characters. When reading, you don’t need to work toknow when an author gets this right. You can just hear it. You can also (unfortunately)hear the tiniest slip in consistency and truth. I have written for somecharacters with very distinctive voices, voices I really didn’t think I couldemulate: both Ten and Donna in “Doctor Who”, Jack and Liz in “30 Rock” and,more recently, Gene Hunt in “Ashes to Ashes”. My particular trick for writingthese characters, for practicing their voices, was to write out the dialoguefirst then fill in everything else. Obviously this is only going to work forfics like this, this and this that rely heavily on banter. I love this kind offic. I love reading ‘em and I love writing ‘em. But even in fics which meldprose and dialogue, writing the dialogue out in isolation can help since theseaspects use slightly different writerly muscles.

4. Spellcheck is Your Friend: There will probablyalways be errors in your writing but do your best to avoid preventable andobvious mistakes. These can destroy your credibility as a narrator and takeyour reader out of your story. Personally, I am a compulsive editor. I wouldn’trecommend it. But I would recommend reading through your work at least once andrunning spellcheck before posting. Reading aloud can also help to identify anygrammatical errors or issues with flow. You can, if you find a friend willingto act as beta, outsource some of this work.

5.Don’t Be Afraid to Start Small: I’m a fan of theshort, self-contained fic. I’ve written lots of them and significant work must still go into making them work. So don’t aim to produce 25,000brilliant words right off the bat. Just 1-2,000 solid ones of which you can be proud.

6.Write What You Want: If you’re lucky, readerswill request fics of you (I have never been good at fulfilling these requests).If you’re unlucky, they’ll complain about directions you take or detail whythey refuse to read what you’ve written (this is pretty rare). But you can’t, Ibelieve, force inspiration. It’s either there or it’s not. For me, I beganwriting fanfic because there just wasn’t any for a pairing I shipped. So Iwrote it myself, for myself. I wrote what I liked and wanted to read (I stilldo). This is a medium in which fans have complete autonomy. They choose to go frompassive consumer to active creator. So just do what you do. Do whatever youwant. Turn back time. Bring people back from the dead. Unite lovers. Mergeworlds. Create characters. Make it sad, happy, dramatic or funny or both. You have the power. Claim it. Play with it. Revel init.

7. Start Strong and End Strong: You gotta have agood first line, in my theory of ff. That’s where it (literally) all begins. I always like to openwith something concise and intriguing that immediately communicates a little (butnot necessarily all) of what I’m planning to work with. Don’t be fooled intothinking you gotta start at the beginning. You don’t. You can enter the storyat any point. You can enter late – and leave early, as the saying goes. Thisis a screenwriting principle that ensures that only the most relevantinformation is included in a scene. It keeps the pace of a piece up, controlsthe dissemination of information and keeps audiences engaged. I think thisprinciple transfers rather easily to the page, especially since most of us areemulating material from the big or small screen. In order to imitate thesevisual mediums in written form, you might like to think of paragraphs, breaksand sentence structure as editing techniques that can guide the reader’s pace, growingperception and emotional experience.

8.Avoid Clichés: Clichés can occur at the level ofexpression, character or narrative. At the level of expression, these arewasted words that hold no meaning so find a fresh way to express what you mean.At the level of character, keep words, thoughts and actions rooted in thecharacter. “Show, Don’t Tell” is another well-known writing principle that can help maintain authenticity. As much as we may identify with certain characters, make judiciousdecisions about how much of yourself belongs in them. When writing intimaterelationships, less is often more. I know many shippers (myself included) spendyears sometimes LONGING for couples to express what they mean to each other,physically and/or verbally. By all means, let your beloved characters express –but not everything and not all at once, would be my advice. Allow them to maintainsome sense of mystery and sovereignty. At the level of narrative, clichés canactually work, especially if used with awareness. I had such fun writing a OneBed! fic for Jack and Liz, in which I paidtribute to some of the many reams of MSR fanfiction I had previously consumed.There were so many of these stories in that fandom that they became a categoryof their own, boasting a set of (increasingly ironic) conventions. Some fanfictraditions, it must be said, deserve to be embraced, extended and celebrated.

9. Read: Reading is the easiest way to absorbgrammar, to expose yourself to different writing styles and to become moreadept with language. So read books of all kinds. And read fanfic from your favefandoms. But read it actively, critically. Figure out what works and whatdoesn’t and why. Figure out what you enjoy, don’t and why. Apply theseinsights to your own writing and keep applying them. Keep improving. The more you read and write, the better you’ll get.

10. Avoid Comparisons: My best experiences of readingand writing fanfiction have been in strong, supportive communities. Generally,the more supportive the community has been, the more prolific I have been. These communitiesare wonderful spaces to inhabit, filled with peeps that love their shows,defend their ships and support their authors. Authors are always hungry forfeedback, and is it any wonder? Writing, creating and sharing takes work, love,thought and guts. You have to claim a little corner of a fandom and boldlystate that you have something to say that’s worth listening to. Sadly, you will probably never receive the same amount of energy back as you putin. This can lead to authors comparing their output and input, judging theirwork on its stats rather than on its merits. It can lead to them competing forthose few meagre reviews that roll in. This is partly why it is so important toreview fanfic, particularly fanfic you love and authors you read consistently.It’s part of encouraging and creating a sense of community in which people feeltheir voices are heard and their contributions valued. So be generous with others. Encourage and share. Read, review, reblog.Treat your fellow writers as your community, not your competition. Viewfanfic as a labor of love, an act of generosity that sometimes gives back. And if you don’t get the response you wishfor then make sure you hit that internal heart button and give yourself somekudos for trying, for creating, for loving something and letting it show.

Good luck. :)

#fanfic #asks

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hoodiesandcomputers · 8 years

Text

Shared My Body and My Mind With You (That’s All Over Now): Chapter 6

Six months ago Felicity did the unthinkable and paid to have sex with the one and only Oliver. Despite being worlds apart they’ve become close friends, but what happens as feelings change, a rival comes into the picture, and a friendship suddenly starts to break? An offshoot of a prostitute/client AU, which comes from my one-shot “Taste of Your Poison Paradise.”

A/N: Hey guys! I MUST apologize for the major delay. I was pretty sick for almost a month, and I decided to rewrite more than half (5/6 to be exact) of the chapter. Thank you all for your patience and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Many thanks to @awriterincowboyboots for being an amazing editor and polishing my final work. And of course, this chapter wouldn't be what it is without @the-mimi-hiddleston for cheerleading me on on any given day, and for @curvy-tam for being an amazing beta! You guys rock. <3

Read at FF // Ao3 // Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5

For the second time this week, Oliver storms into Verdant and heads straight towards Isabel, not caring about the threats she made three days earlier. He's been on edge ever since Roy's overdose and Isabel's insensitivity is pushing him past the point of return.

After getting the call from the hospital (and once Oliver managed to gather his wits), he raced straight to the hospital and waited with bated breath until doctors would finally allow him to see Roy. Seeing the younger man so small and pale, hooked on a number of machines brought a torrent of memories Oliver wished to forget. Oliver had wanted to run away from there as fast as he could – he couldn't stand to see Roy in such a state, he couldn't bear to see strong people become so frail – but Oliver knew Roy needed him. So Oliver stayed by his side the entire night, reminding Roy he's always there for him no matter what.

Despite surviving the overdose, the hospital wanted him to stay for the next couple of days to monitor him and do a psych evaluation. Knowing Roy needed him, Oliver cancelled his appointments and rescheduled the next few days at Jitters despite Roy's protests. He also tried to take care of Roy's clients and reassign them to other escorts, but once Isabel got a sniff of it all hell broke loose.

She wouldn't stop calling Roy, and once Oliver told her about his condition, she actually laughed and asked Oliver if he thought that was a good excuse. Isabel continued to cement herself as the worst person on earth by ordering Oliver to get Roy out of the hospital and make up for lost time, and more importantly, lost money. Despite Oliver telling her Roy was in no condition to work and the hospital wouldn't let him go, she wouldn't take no as an answer and demanded Roy get back to work. If Oliver didn't hate her before, he definitely does now.

So here he is, ready to go toe to toe with her again, and hoping she doesn't murder him with her stilettos. Roy's wellbeing is important to Oliver but having Isabel breathe down both their necks isn't making matters any better.

When Isabel sees Oliver approaching, she rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue. "What did I say about interrupting me at the club?"

Curling his hand into a tight fist, Oliver grits out, "I don't care."

"Who pissed in your cereal this morning?" Isabel sizes him up. "If this is about Roy –"

"It is."

"My word is final, Thomas." Clicking her tongue once again, Isabel sings, "You should know that by now."

That's it – he's had enough. Picking up an empty glass, Oliver angrily throws it across the room and jabs a finger at Isabel. His hand shakes after his reaction but he briefly noticed Isabel barely flinched at his outburst.

"Goddamn it Isabel, Roy overdosed and all you're worried about is how much money you're losing? He only makes $500 an hour. That's nothing!"

Isabel scoffs in disbelief and her eyes burn with anger. "Of course $500 is nothing . . . to Oliver Queen."

She knows.

Time suddenly stops – he's only aware of his throat tightening up, as if a snake is slowly wrapping its scaly skin around his neck, and every other sensory feeling becomes heightened all at once. He's keenly aware of physically taking a step back and how his legs have begun to wobble, but his mind is unable to comprehend Isabel knows who he really is.

Oliver had suspected for a while, but he chalked it up to his own paranoia and chose to ignore it. But considering how calmly Isabel is glaring at him, he wonders if she knew who he was the moment he bumped into her.

He's aware he's numb and going through shock, but does his best to control his emotions in front of Isabel. Swallowing thickly, Oliver attempts to not let Isabel's haughty expression continue to catch him off guard.

Smirking, Isabel relaxes on the couch as if she has no care in the world. "Or should I say was considering you lost all your money. I suppose after working for me for six years – or is it seven? – you're finally able to get somewhat close to what was in your trust fund."

Oliver can feel all the blood drain from his face, and he knows Isabel sees it to when she looks up at him and laughs softly. "But I'll admit, I prefer Thomas Jones since he helps me buy the latest Louboutin and occasional Charlotte Olympia whenever I want."

The weight of Isabel's words hit him like a ton of bricks, and his mind races to find a way to spin this conversation. Speechless and unable to ignore Isabel's threat, Oliver merely raises his chin just a bit to show Isabel she hasn't affected him as much as she thinks. Isabel simply smirks and raises an eyebrow, her arrogance tearing holes into Oliver's damaged soul.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver assesses the situation as best as he can: Isabel clearly knows who he really is, she definitely plans on using it as blackmail, and thus, Oliver's indebted to her for the foreseeable future.

Sighing, Isabel closes the books in front of her and crosses her slim legs, eyeing Oliver up and down as if in preparation to devour him. "I warned you not to cross me. You may be Emerald's best escort, but that doesn't mean you run the show." Taking a sip of water, Isabel's eyes narrow and she adds, "I won't hesitate to leak this information out to the press if you bother me again."

Realizing her threat could very well become a real one, Oliver attempts to downplay it in hopes of throwing her off. "Oliver Queen's been irrelevant since 2009. You think people would care?"

"I know your sister will."

For the second time since he got here he's thrown off balance by Isabel's words, and at this point he feels utterly helpless. She was always a step ahead of him the moment he signed on to become an escort, wasn't she? A sinking feeling of resignation hits him and Oliver almost breaks down in front of Isabel. He's an idiot for thinking he could go face to face with Isabel.

Yet something stops him from doing so – this past week has been a tumultuous rollercoaster, and his emotions have been all over the place. And typically, when Oliver feels trapped he stays in a corner he feels comfortable in, letting years pass by without moving a single inch.

Today is different. Oliver may be a lot of things, one of which may be a failure, but he will do whatever it takes to keep those he loves safe. Isabel may consider this a weakness – not too long ago Oliver would've thought the same – but times have changed. And with people counting on Oliver to make things right for them, he promises to make a difference one step at a time.

~/~

Felicity's apartment is in disarray – clothes are scattered everywhere, half of her kitchen supplies are sprawled out on the floor, and items she thought were permanently lost are reappearing left and right.

There's a reason why Felicity detests moving.

"I'm trying to find a way to make this move a little more organized for you, but I'm running out of ideas." Caitlin worriedly glances around her apartment and sighs. "I'm getting anxious just looking at this."

Felicity snorts. "Join the club."

"Maybe you should've worked one room at a time instead of dumping everything out at once?"

Sighing, Felicity simply puts her hands on her waist and pouts, because Caitlin is right and she doesn't know how to get herself out of this.

After her fight with Oliver (and crying for much of the night), Felicity called Ray the next morning and said she wanted to work at Palmer Tech. Ray was obviously excited, and once they finished their phone conversation, Felicity finally walked right out of her toxic office without a care in the world. Of course, her fight with Oliver and not having an idea what the future held made Felicity anxious, but she was ready to take a leap forward and put the past behind her. Caitlin was naturally supportive, albeit sad Felicity was leaving, but she wanted the best for her.

In a mad rush to start over her life, Felicity began to throw everything out of closets, drawers, and cabinets – anything really. After spending three days gingerly walking around her apartment and not being able to see the floor, Felicity realizes how big of a mistake that was. She debates putting everything back to where it was and pack the right way, but the task is undeniably daunting.

Sighing once more, Felicity collapses on the couch, or what remains of it. "Maybe I shouldn't be so –"

A loud knock interrupts her, and she glances at Caitlin if she would know why someone is at the door. For a brief moment Felicity's heart leaps and she wonders if it's Oliver, but then she's reminded of their last encounter and doesn't want his presence to ruin her moving out weekend.

"Who is it?" Caitlin whispers.

Felicity considers ignoring it until there's another knock, softer this time. Curious, Felicity goes up to the door and peeks through the eyehole, only to find Oliver standing on the other side of the door.

What is he doing here? After their disastrous fight on Wednesday Felicity had, albeit childishly, intended to leave Oliver behind and never look back. She didn't think he would drop by anytime soon, and his presence here is throwing everything out of balance.

She regrets how things spiraled out of control on Wednesday, but their argument had seemed inevitable. They had been distant for awhile, with Felicity being busy with work and having to reschedule her hangouts with Oliver. Coupled with Oliver's weird moods, she didn't feel like being near him and having to decipher his feelings all the time. In hindsight, Felicity knows she should've been a little more collected, but there's no going back. Things have changed between them for better or worse.

A small voice in the back of her mind wants her to let him in because there's a possibility Oliver's here to apologize. But Felicity's rational and angry side doesn't want to – she wants him to sweat it out and she feels inviting him in will only complicate her feelings about them.

Unfortunately, Caitlin's here and the longer Felicity doesn't open the door, the more suspicious she'll get. Gathering as much courage as she can, Felicity slowly opens the door and comes face to face with Oliver.

Felicity's stomach drops the moment he raises his head and soulfully looks at her – his eyes are puffy and bruised from lack of sleep, and all the color from his face has vanished. His clothes appear to be a few days old and he clearly hasn't shaved for a couple of days. Even though she promised herself not to get attached all over again, the sight is worrying her and she wonders if their argument might have been too difficult for him.

"Hey." His voice cracks and he clears his throat to cover up how tired he seems. Shoving his hands inside his pant pockets, he glances down at the floor and shifts his feet. "Do you mind if I come in?"

She's about to decline and ask him why he even thought it would be a good idea to come back here, but suddenly she hears Caitlin rummaging around and appear by her side. Before Felicity can say anything Caitlin offers, "I should leave."

"Caitlin, you don't have –"

But she's already got her purse draped over and smiles softly while giving Felicity a knowing look. Pushing the door wide open, Caitlin comes face to face with Oliver and stops in her tracks. There's no doubt Caitlin's wondering why this hunk of a man is standing by Felicity's door, but she masks her curiosity and instead puts a comforting hand on Felicity's shoulder. "I'll see you later."

A little scared she has no backup, Felicity wordlessly lets Caitlin leave and tries not to overthink the situation. Now that she and Oliver are alone she has no excuse to brush him aside. In the back of her mind Felicity knows if she tells Oliver to leave her alone he'll honor her wishes, but for some reason Felicity can't go to Star City without getting closure.

"Come in, I guess."

Oliver whispers a soft "Thank you" and gingerly steps into the apartment. His eyes widen at the sight of clothes, kitchen appliances and other items littered all around him, but she thinks nothing of it.

Needing some space, Felicity steps away from him and stands by the couch, unable to look Oliver in the eye. She's not sure if she should immediately tell Oliver she plans on moving or wait for Oliver to apologize first.

"What's . . . all this?" Gesturing at the floor, Oliver shoves his hands in his pocket and nervously stands by the door.

The awkwardness of this situation is making Felicity inexplicably sad – things were going so well and nothing was supposed to break them apart. Seeing how Oliver can't feel like he's at home almost causes her want to call Ray, quit her job at Star City, and stay in Chicago for as long as she can. Yet she knows she won't do that, because Felicity loves herself enough to do what's best for her. And moving to Star City is the right way to start.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity readies herself for the big reveal. Her decision to move is final, but after telling Oliver it'll become permanent – there won't be any going back.

"Oliver, I – I'm taking Ray's offer and moving to Star City."

"Oh. Wow."

Felicity detects a hint of shock on Oliver's face, but he quickly covers it up with a neutral expression. A flash of irritation hits her – he clearly hasn't learned how to be happy for her since Wednesday. What's the point of him coming here if he won't fix his attitude towards her?

"You don't sound too excited."

"No, Felicity, I am." His eyes soften under her steely gaze, and it takes every ounce of strength for Felicity to not jump in his arms. She wants to forgive him, but she's still so angry about he said.

"I . . . want you to have everything." Sighing, Oliver runs his hand through his hair then shakes his head. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to leave because of . . . me."

She'll admit, her decision to move so fast was partly due to their fight on Wednesday, but regardless, Hartley's promotion guaranteed Felicity would be leaving Kord Industries sooner rather than later. There was no way Felicity would stay at Kord for another minute, especially since Ray had been vetting her for so long. Ultimately, her decision to leave was for Felicity Meghan Smoak only and no one else.

Felicity glances at the ground before peering at Oliver. "You know, not everything I do is a reaction to you."

"I'm not expecting it to be."

It's quiet for a moment and Felicity has to physically stop herself from rambling out of nervousness. It's so weird to see how far apart they are after one fight, and it's tearing Felicity up from the inside. Three days ago they were such close friends and now . . . now they're strangers.

Stepping forward, Oliver smiles gently and asks, "So you're really moving?"

"Yeah." Her heart is heavy but she has to do what's best for her. "I think it's time I leave."

Oliver's clearly taken aback by her decision, but he covers it up asking, "When?"

"On Wednesday I'm flying out to Star City to meet board members and chief officers, look at apartments, and then I'm . . . gone."

Technically Felicity has three more months on the lease, but Caitlin's helping her find someone to sublet. So far there's one person who's willing to move in ont short notice, but if that doesn't work out, Felicity will have to pay rent for two places once she moves to Star City. She's tempted to ask Oliver if he knows anyone who might want to sublet, but it feels weird asking him for a favor when things between are still on edge.

"Isn't that a little fast?"

She can tell Oliver didn't mean to let that slip, because he purses his lips and looks down at the floor in embarrassment. "I quit Kord without a two week's notice and Ray wants me on board ASAP. I have to move fast."

Upon the mention of Ray, Oliver's jaw clenches and any trace of acceptance is wiped away in an instant. Felicity almost groans out loud – what is up with him and Ray? After finding out Ray doesn't personally know an Oliver, Felicity has to wonder what's really bothering Oliver about him. It seems so long ago, but the first time Felicity mentioned Ray was before they started hanging out, so Oliver's hostility toward Ray doesn't necessarily stem from Felicity's quasi-date with Ray. It has to be something else, but given Oliver's inability to be honest with her, she has no idea what it is.

"Right." Oliver's back to being closed off and moody all over again, and Felicity's patience begins to wear thin.

"Oliver, if you're not going to apologize, maybe you can tell me why every time I mention Ray you get . . . angry face." Felicity sees Oliver's brow furrow in confusion, but underneath it call she suspects he knows exactly what she's referring to. "It's driving me nuts."

He doesn't say a word – he simply gapes at her as tries to make up a believable excuse.

"Do you know him?" Felicity steps forward and looks at Oliver square in the eye. She's sick of him skirting around the truth.

"No."

He says it with such conviction that Felicity almost believes him, but she knows better.

"You don't act like it."

"I . . . don't know him."

Taking a deep breath, Felicity has to calm herself down before she snaps. "I might not know everything about you, but I can tell when you're lying."

"Felicity I – I am honest with you." Oliver shrugs and asks, "Why are you convinced I'm lying?"

"Really? Then what's your last name?"

She's a little surprised that was the first thing that came to mind, but it bothers her she doesn't know something as simple as his last name. After being unable to tell Ray Oliver's last name, she couldn't stop thinking about it. It was yet another thing Felicity didn't know about Oliver and it upset her. How could they be such good friends if she didn't know such a small detail about him?

He's obviously taken aback by her question – his eye wander around the apartment and he avoids looking at Felicity. She can tell he's stalling and it infuriates her, because this most likely means he's going to lie to her. Again.

After a couple of seconds Oliver says, "Jones."

It's tense for a minute as Felicity sizes Oliver up, shaking her head as she does so. "So you're telling me you use your legal last name as your escort last name?"

Oliver's face pales once he realizes she's got him trapped in a corner. "Y . . . yes."

Rolling her eyes, Felicity sighs exasperatedly and tries to keep track of his lies. "Why would you purposely chose your legal last name as your escort one, when the whole point of having an alias is so no one can figure out the real you?"

"I – it was easier."

"It was easier to not make up a last name," she clarifies.

"Yeah." Straightening his back, Oliver juts his chin forward and attempts to convey through body language that he's confident in his answers.

But Felicity's had enough. He keeps saying he wants what's best for Felicity, yet what's best for her sanity – and their friendship – is for Oliver to be honest. Getting him to admit the truth is like pulling teeth, and Felicity's too smart for her own good to let this go. She has a gut feeling something's not right, and this is a mystery that needs to be solved, even if it means hurting their fragile friendship.

Taking a deep breath and genuinely worried about what this question will bring, Felicity quietly asks, "Is Oliver your real name or is it Thomas?"

"Yes, Oliver is my real name!" Oliver's eyes burn with intensity. "Why are you convinced I'm someone else?"

"I don't know, because I hardly know a thing about you!" She hears Oliver scoff but she pushes through. "I've been nice enough to ignore it for the past few months, let alone not hack into databases and find out exactly who you are, but now . . . I honestly don't know anything about you."

Rolling his eyes, Oliver crosses his arms and clenches his jaw. "Thanks for respecting my privacy." Upon realizing how harsh that sounded, Oliver swallows thickly and adds, "But Felicity, you do know –"

"I really don't."

She's absolutely desperate at this point. A bout of anxiousness hits Felicity, and she wants to do a combination of screaming out in the void, pacing incessantly, or drowning herself in wine. God, Felicity wants to tell and ask Oliver so many things: why he hates Ray, why he says he's being supportive but not really, why their friendship is surface-level and a multitude of other things. Instead, the only thing she's able to articulate is that she wants to know what Oliver's real name is. She has so much to say to him but it's getting buried underneath accusations. This isn't how she planned for this to be.

"You've never asked."

Focusing back on their argument at hand, Felicity grudgingly realizes he's right. Not once did she ask questions about his personal life, but in her defense, she thought she was respecting his privacy and hoped he would open up to her in time. Instead, Oliver took it as an opportunity to keep Felicity at arm's length, and now that she's bringing up these questions, he's doing everything he can to prevent her from learning more.

Accepting his challenge, Felicity asks, "Okay. So where are you from?"

For the second time this afternoon he's taken aback, and his reaction shows Felicity he's still not forthcoming of his past. "Like . . . where I was born?"

"What else would I be asking?" She's dumbfounded by his answer and her attitude is out in full force.

His eyes flicker about and she spots him rubbing his index finger and thumb together, a nervous tick Felicity's noticed about him. "I don't know, something –"

"You're avoiding the question."

"No, I'm not."

She's tempted to say something sarcastic, but her irritation and desire to know more outweighs her need to be rude.

"Then where. Were. You. Born?"

Without missing a beat Oliver calmly says, "Central City."

But she knows better – his eyes briefly wandered and he continued to rub his fingers together as he lied through his teeth. And this knowledge makes Felicity powerless to stop herself from exploding.

"Goddamn it Oliver, you're lying!"

Her eyes begin to prick with unshed tears of frustration – how hard can it be to tell the truth? Her mind spins with endless possibilities, and Felicity's convinced herself Oliver might even be a hit man out to get her. Oliver's refusal to tell her the truth is only making things worse, except she's no better by egging him on. But Felicity has always searched for the truth no matter how ugly the consequences might be, and she's not going to let this go anymore simply because Oliver's involved. Perhaps a couple of days ago Felicity might've felt she could leave Chicago without solving the Oliver-but-not-really-Jones puzzle, but she can't shake this off.

Oliver clenches his jaw and brings a hand up to his temple, no doubt as frustrated as she is. "What –"

"I can tell you are when you start looking everywhere else but me, and you won't stop rubbing your stupid fingers together!"

He seems genuinely surprised and slightly proud of Felicity for knowing such a minute detail. But he quickly masks his reaction because they're in the middle of a fight and they're both too stubborn to yield.

"Why is it such a big deal if you know where I'm from or what my last name is? And honestly, I don't know anything about you either!" he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air as he does so.

He's an expert deflector, Felicity snidely thinks.

Scoffing, she begins to pace in whatever space she has left in her living room. "That's rich."

"I'm serious – I don't know anything."

A bubble of angry laughter comes forth – she's opened up to him more than she has to anyone else. He knows the most intimate parts of her yet he has the audacity to say otherwise. The absurdness of his comment almost makes her want to leave her own apartment in rage, but she soldiers on despite how frustrated she is.

Bringing up a hand, Felicity starts counting all the ways Oliver knows her, making sure to put emphasis on every single item. "Let's see, you know where I work, you've heard about my friends, you know I went to MIT, and you know I grew up in Las Vegas with a single parent. Oh, and you've seen me naked."

A tiny flush creeps up on Oliver's face – whether it's from being proven wrong or recalling their dalliance, she doesn't care. Oliver's comment brings forth a flurry of emotions and she's powerless to stop herself.

"What else do you want to know?"

"I –"

"Do you want to know my dad was – is – a cyber terrorist and still on the FBI's Most Wanted list?"

Her voice shakes and she steadies herself as she's assaulted by images of the police coming to her door on a cold, windy night, her mother crying, and eventually realizing her father abandoned her. The resentment Felicity feels towards her father haunts her to this day, and ever since his abandonment she's had a difficult time forming any meaningful relationship. But here she is, throwing every bit of companionship she has at Oliver and he won't take it.

Another flash of anger hits Felicity, and she can't stop herself from spilling another deep secret buried in the back of her mind. Fine – Oliver wants to know everything about her? She'll give it to him.

"Or better yet, do you want to know my boyfriend in college was arrested for hacking into the Department of Education and killed himself in prison?"

Her eyes well up in tears at the memory – she buried it deep and hoped to never open that door again, but these are unusual circumstances. Felicity had forgotten how much it hurt to hear when Cooper – her first love – died. Coupled with her father's abandonment and Cooper's untimely death, Felicity's had a difficult time forming meaningful relationships, always afraid something would happen to them. Despite all of her anxieties, Felicity took the plunge and opened up to Oliver more than she had to anyone since Cooper.

And he basically spat it right back at her.

Regaining control of her emotions, she looks at Oliver square in the eye and grits through her teeth, "I've opened up to you – literally as in you've seen my bare ass – and all I get in return is someone who can't even tell me where they were born."

There's a moment where Oliver looks like he might just admit to everything, but his pride and desire to keep Felicity in the dark seems to convince him otherwise. Internally groaning at the new development, Felicity can only imagine what he's going to say next and wonders how this meeting spiraled out of control.

"It's not like you've introduced me to your friends before."

That was certainly not expected.

Once again he's avoiding telling Felicity the truth, but she's so exhausted dancing around the truth that she decides to indulge him. "What do my friends have to do with this? And anyway, why would I introduce them to you?"

Most of Felicity's friends are from work, and even then it's not a large group to begin with. She's always busy – she doesn't have time to throw parties and go on long dinners during the weekends with anyone. And all of her friends are geekier than she is. Felicity doubts Oliver would actually enjoy their company, let alone understand what they're saying 90 percent of the time. It would be a lose-lose situation for both of them, so his counter argument is not valid.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I bet the reason you haven't is because you probably don't want to admit you have a prostitute as a friend."

Caught off guard, Felicity's left speechless and doesn't know how to respond. Oliver keeps his face expressionless, but he's rubbing his fingers once more, and she can tell it really does bother him Felicity hasn't introduced him to her friends. But the way he says prostitute . . . it's as if he's gathering every single bit of venom he has festering inside him and spitting it out with that word.

Felicity had her suspicions – she wondered whether Oliver really did enjoy being a prostitute, since he practically did everything he could to avoid talking about it. Yet, he continuously mentioned about how he had an easy schedule and made more money in an hour than people did in a month. Regardless, it was entirely possible Oliver didn't enjoy being an escort any more than Felicity enjoyed playing second-class citizen at Kord, and she should've picked up on it.

Still, she's a little hurt Oliver feels she's that intolerant towards him and others for being escorts. It's a lifestyle he chose and one he's worked hard at. She's in no position to judge him because Felicity's done her fair share of questionable things, too. And besides, they're not in a physical, romantic relationship – who he sleeps with, whether he's paid for it or not, is none of her concern.

"That's not true," she protests.

"It's not?" Now it's his turn to scoff, and he does so with a generous amount of disdain. "Then why haven't I met them?"

Felicity feels herself getting defensive now, although she feels she has no reason to be.

"Because. I didn't think I had to."

It's quiet for a minute as Oliver examines her, but as seconds pass she feels herself flushing under his gaze. It's stupid – Felicity shouldn't be feeling guilty for not introducing Oliver to her friends, yet . . . Glancing up at Oliver, his eyes narrow in contemplation and she spots the exact moment he's done playing nice.

Frack.

"So I was right – you are ashamed of me."

His voice wavers and he glances down at the ground, causing Felicity's heart to break into a thousand pieces. God, she never meant to make him feel less of a person because of his job. She just – what they had was between them only, and she didn't want anyone else privy to their relationship. She looked forward to every Sunday and Wednesday night with him – Oliver has to know how much those hangouts meant to her. The moment reality touched their bubble is when it would come crashing down, and she didn't want their perfect circle ruined.

In the back of her mind she knows Oliver and their friendship would never be accepted in the real world. If word got out that Felicity was best friends with a prostitute, a friend she had once paid to have sex with . . . her career would be over. And all this time, Felicity unconsciously chose to keep their friendship a secret because it didn't benefit her to make it public. Felicity never thought how her selfishness actually made things worse between them, but it really did and the guilt is beginning to take over her.

"No, I'm not –"

"Then why haven't you introduced me yet?" he fumes. "What about the girl who was just here? Why didn't you say anything then?"

An intense feeling of guilt washes over Felicity, and she's powerless to stop herself wallowing in self-hatred. She could chalk up to not introducing Oliver to Caitlin by being so frazzled by the move and her fight with Oliver that she forgot to do so, but it wouldn't be the truth. And she shouldn't skirt around the truth when she's asking Oliver to do the opposite. It would make her hypocritical.

"Fine." Swallowing thickly, Felicity then takes a deep breath to calm her nerves, and admit to herself how much of a wretched person she is. After collecting herself, she looks at Oliver square in the eye and confesses, "I haven't told anyone about you because I'm not sure how to tell them you're a friend I paid to have sex with."

There's a sense of disappointment in his eyes, and Felicity's feels absolutely disgusted with herself. He's right – she is ashamed of being associated with Oliver. She's more worried about what her colleagues think and how their judgments will damage their friendship, instead of realizing that keeping a distance between Oliver and her professional life hurt Oliver. Although Felicity doesn't judge Oliver for being a prostitute, her friends might not be so welcoming, and she doesn't want their judgments to put a cloud over their friendship.

Her selfishness got in the way of something better, and she'll never be able to forgive herself for it.

The air is nothing short of stifling hot, and it gets harder and harder for Felicity to breathe. For a moment there's an out of body experience for her – she knows she's panicking and on the verge of something, but the sane part of her mind is screaming at her to keep a tight lid on her emotions until it's time to let go. She's at war with herself and the cowardly part of her wishes all of this could be easily resolved.

Oliver's silent as he digests her confession, but she spots how his shoulders have contracted and his jaw won't stop clenching. There's no doubt he's angry and wounded by her words, but his eyes are so melancholy that it pains Felicity to even look at him.

"Just admit it, Felicity. I promise it won't hurt."

God, his voice is so broken and small. Amidst all the accusations and fighting, he's desperately trying to keep it all together, and Felicity wants nothing but to give him a hug.

Without thinking, Felicity steps forward and reaches out for Oliver, but he steps back instead. The action causes her chest to pinch painfully in rejection, and she tries to swallow the feeling away but with no avail.

"I – I just know you won't be accepted, and I didn't want that to hurt you." Oliver shakes his head as he glances away, and Felicity's positive there's nothing she can say to make this better. "And I'm so sorry for not introducing you to my friends and keeping our friendship in a bubble, but please – please – know I'm not ashamed of you being an escort."

He presses his fingers against his temple and takes a deep breath. "Maybe you should get more tolerant friends, that way you won't have to hide me like a dirty secret."

"You're not a dirty secret," she pleads vehemently. "And you're right, I need more tolerant friends, but you're also being unreasonable. I'm not going to dump everyone I know for one person."

"One person – "

"And Oliver you – you're so secretive and reclusive." Throwing her hands in the air, Felicity shakes her head and tries to find a way to say this without completely alienating Oliver. "How are you going to carry on a conversation with my friends when you've made no effort to get to know me besides the basics?"

He laughs humorlessly and he begins to pace, no doubt agitated their argument has lasted this long. "Now look who's lying."

"But you know I'm right!" There's a hint of desperation in her voice and she can no longer hide it from Oliver. This is it – she's so close to exploding. She can feel it shaking in her bones, and there's nothing she can do to stop it.

"All you want to do is talk about my work – we never talk about yours – watch movies, cook food and that's it!"

"Why the fuck do you want to know every detail about me?" Oliver roars. This is the first time he's ever raised his voice in front of her, and he immediately looks guilty for doing so. Yet instead of backing down, it spurs Felicity on, and now she knows there's no going back.

"Because I care . . . about you!"

Her breath catches in her throat, and she doesn't miss the way Oliver's expression changes from anger to shock in a second. Maybe Felicity's in love with Oliver or perhaps not, but she cares about him more than anyone else. His secrets and lies hurt her in more ways than one – she expected him to be the last person on earth to treat her like a stranger. He needs to know how frustrated she is, and this is her chance to let him know once and for all.

"I would let this go if your humongous secret didn't actually impact me, but it does! How can you not see that?" Felicity cries. "It's hurting our fri–friendship and you keep making it worse by not saying anything! And I need to know why it's so hard for you to be happy for me – not just saying it, but acting like you really are – and what your last name is, and why you hate Ray because it's all tied together! Every question I ever had would be answered and this could be all over if you told me the truth!"

~/~

When Oliver decided to drop by Felicity's apartment and apologize, he was not prepared for Felicity telling him she's leaving Star City for good and another argument.

But he should've known better.

Ever since Oliver moved to Chicago, he's been actively pushing the past behind him. He threw himself into his (illegal) work, made sure Thea never came to Chicago and continued to believe Oliver was a consultant working odd jobs, and did his best to forget how pathetic his life had become. He was fortunate enough to not be treated as horribly as the other escorts, but his line of work made it difficult to have any sort of social life. And besides, one look at Oliver pre-beard and people would've figured him out.

So he crafted an impenetrable wall surrounded by darkness, and never let anyone come near him no matter how hard they tried.

Then he met Felicity and . . . She was kind, welcoming, charming, funny, and eventually became the only person who could put a smile on his face. And he did the one thing he vowed to never do: let someone into his carefully constructed fantasy.

He told her his actual name, invited her to his home and had his first real friendship since leaving Star City. It was perfect – they had a routine and it made things much less complicated for him. With Felicity he could be an escort and Oliver. He trusted her because they met each other at their most shameful – and perhaps enjoyable – moment, and it was an experience which would forever tie them together.

Yet he held things back, because Oliver Queen is no longer in the picture and Oliver Jones is an escort who's friends with Felicity Smoak. It was all that mattered.

He's still Oliver but no longer a Queen. But it wasn't enough for Felicity.

Oliver should've known his lies and past would catch up to him. When he found out Ray had weaseled his way into their perfect little bubble he should've seen it as a sign. Fate was warning Oliver to stop denying his past ever existed, but in typical Oliver fashion, he chose to ignore it. And he destroyed the one good thing to come out the absolute hell he endured eight years ago.

After all the accusations and yelling, Oliver now understands what Felicity wants from him, and it's the one thing he's been avoiding for so many years. He had hoped he would never have to open his personal can of worms, but these are unusual circumstances, and after hearing how much Felicity cares for him . . .

Everything Felicity said about him was true: He purposely doesn't speak about his job because he'd rather listen to her office drama than discuss how Taiana was almost raped, or how Roy overdosed on prescription meds because he wasn't there for him. Oliver's an uneducated failure who is ashamed of being an escort, and he doesn't want to tell Felicity's he's Oliver Queen since it'll make her pity him.

And most of all, Oliver's cowardly self didn't want to expose Felicity to his world because she'll never be able to understand, and he wanted to separate his work life from his personal one for his own benefit.

There are so many things holding him back. The truth physically won't come out of him because he's been repressing it for so long, and he's worried the moment he admits how badly he and his family fucked up, it'll all amount to nothing. There's no point in looking back at his past if it only brings pain and misery, but this is Felicity, and she means more to him than anyone in the world.

Closing his eyes and letting himself be swept away by an overwhelming sense of numbness and acceptance, Oliver finally decides to do the right thing, no matter the consequences.

"I . . . My name – my real one – is Oliver . . . Queen."

The air is palpable with tension, questions and unsaid words, and Oliver's mouth goes dry with trepidation. Upon glancing at Felicity, she's clearly in shock and he can practically see the gears running in her head. Exposed and at his most vulnerable moment, Oliver stands still and waits for Felicity to register the magnitude of his reveal, his legs shaking in nervousness.

"I – I don't understand . . ."

Her voice cracks while her eyes carefully watch Oliver, but he can spot the exact moment she does understand. His chest painfully contracts knowing this might forever ruin things between them, but there's no going back. Memories – good and bad – assault his mind, and he's powerless to prevent his eyes from welling up in tears. He remembers everything now.

"When my mother lost Queen Consolidated, we lost . . . everything. Our savings, the house . . . It was hard."

Swallowing thickly, Oliver tries to push back against the bitter memories of watching his mother and Thea sitting helplessly in front of their door, unsure of where they'll be by tomorrow with no money and no home. His legs are wobbly and he needs to hold onto something tight, but there's nothing there except his lies desperately holding onto him before they're all gone.

"And then my mom . . . died and I didn't – I couldn't support me and my sister. I'd dropped out of four colleges and didn't have any real work experience."

Shaking his head, his face flushes in embarrassment – he had so many opportunities as a Queen and instead he threw it all away, never realizing he could lose everything in a blink of an eye.

He remembers going to his father's many known associates and asking – begging – for any position, whether it be a secretary or unpaid intern. They made him fall to his knees and grovel, only to turn him away for their own enjoyment. His skin burns with deep seeded anger and in humiliation, and he closes his eyes, trying to push those feelings away once more.

"It was . . . so hard to find a job, Felicity. Nobody wanted me."

After he was humiliated multiple times, Oliver put Thea under Malcolm Merlyn's care, knowing Malcolm would ensure she had a proper education and a safe home to stay in. Tommy, Malcolm Merlyn's son and Oliver's best friend at the time, cared deeply for Thea and promised to protect her while Oliver was away. It shamed Oliver to ask the Merlyns for such a big favor, but he trusted them to keep Thea safe and knew they wouldn't let him down. And most of all, he needed them to shield Thea from how desperate the situation had become for Oliver.

"So I came to Chicago and . . . I met Isabel. And that was it."

Closing his eyes once more, Oliver takes a deep breath and realizes just how weightless he feels after spilling the truth. The shame, guilt and overall numbness has disappeared, and he waits with baited breath to hear what Felicity has to say. He feels hopeful – perhaps they can move on from this and become even closer than they were before. Taking a quick peek at Felicity, he sees her stoically looking back at Oliver, her expressionless face making Oliver more nervous by the second.

Her face crumbles in despair, and it's when Oliver's heart breaks into a million pieces. He can see it plain as day, as Felicity's eyes well up in unshed tears, that he hurt her so much by keeping this secret from her. Eager to make her feel better, he steps forward and reaches out for her, except this time she's the one to step back, her hand signaling him to stop. Rejected, Oliver takes a deep breath and tries to fix the situation as best as he can.

"I never really knew you at all, did I?"

"Y-yes you do, Felicity," he says with a hint of desperation. "You know I like –"

Felicity presses her mouth in a hard line. "Let me rephrase: I knew Thomas Jones. But I never knew Oliver Queen."

There's a part of him ready to tell her she's absolutely wrong, but in the back of his mind Oliver can see there's some truth to it. He showed a carefully constructed version of himself, just enough to make himself and Felicity happy, but enough to keep her away from the deepest parts of his mind.

But despite not knowing Oliver Queen, she really does know Oliver – the real Oliver. The Oliver who has a budget and doesn't spend his money frivolously, unlike before. The Oliver who genuinely loves to cook, and hopes to one day do something with it. The Oliver who believes Die Hard is the best Christmas movie, but only beating Home Alone by a smidgen.

She knows who he is, just not every dirty secret.

"Felicity . . ." he whispers, unsure of how to fix this. He's at a loss for words and can only pathetically stare at Felicity, hoping she can see how sorry he is.

"Do you know Ray Palmer?"

The abrupt and random question throws him off guard, and he considers ignoring the question until he distinctly remembers Felicity asking him why he dislikes Ray. If it'll make her feel better to tell her the truth, he'll do so. Taking a deep breath Oliver manages to grit out, "No."

"Then why do you hate him so much?" Crossing her arms, Felicity glares at him with steely eyes. Oliver begins to feel a little defensive, although he's in no position to do so.

Clenching his jaw, he closes his right hand into a fist as he remembers reading The Times and seeing Ray's smarmy face plastered all over it once he acquired QC. Oliver hasn't forgotten how in the subsequent months after the acquisition, Ray routinely made a show of how different he was, and continued to slander the Queen family name.

"He . . . bought out QC from my family."

Scoffing, Felicity looks around the room and shakes her head. "That's it?" she asks, her voice laced with chagrin. There's no doubt Felicity thinks Oliver's reasoning for hating Ray is a joke, but she doesn't understand what continued slander – whether it's in tabloids or coming from the mouths of rich dicks like Ray – does to a person's self-worth.

"No that's not it," Oliver snaps. "He – he took my future away from me. I'm supposed to be Ray. I'm supposed to be CEO of QC . . . not him."

The bitter taste of reality sours his mouth as he recalls spending nights wondering what he would do as CEO of QC, instead of being an escort whoring himself multiple times a day. If things were different – if Oliver had just paid attention, gone to college, and assisted his mother during her business dealings – maybe he wouldn't be in the situation he's in now. Watching Palmer Tech become one of the most profitable companies year after year only caused Oliver to swim deeper in envy and has-beens.

"Oliver, I think it's time you stop blaming other people for your problems."

Her flippant statement angers Oliver, and he grinds his teeth as he tries to collect himself. It's obvious Felicity doesn't understand how difficult it's been for him – to lose everything in a blink of an eye is such a jarring experience that it makes it difficult to move on. And suspiciously enough, Ray swooped in the moment QC's stocks fell, as if he knew all along what was going to happen. The circumstances are highly coincidental, and Oliver would be an idiot to not think otherwise.

Inhaling deeply, Oliver shakes his head and attempts to explain. "No offense Felicity, but you don't know –"

"You're right. I don't."

Oliver realizes he's losing Felicity every second that passes by, and there's not much he can do to stop it. Her eyes watch him like a hawk but she's guarded – her shoulders have contracted and she's crossed her arms, hugging herself tight and no doubt feeling very alone.

Stepping forward, Oliver reaches out for Felicity once more but she doesn't accept it. Sighing, Oliver shakes his head and pleads, "I can – will – tell you everything, right here, right now."

Taking a deep breath, Felicity glances down at the ground and stays that way for a moment. It seems as if she's debating to know more about him, which is odd considering Felicity said she wanted to know the truth. Her silence makes him feel extremely anxious – their friendship is slipping through the cracks and Oliver's unsure if he'll be able to salvage it.

"But you never really planned on telling me the truth, did you?" she asks quietly.

Felicity looks so small and tortured, standing in her corner of the living room, no doubt devastated by his actions. Feeling nothing but guilt, Oliver wishes he could go back in time and not meet Felicity on that fated appointment. This turned out to be much more complicated than he asked for, and he wishes he was never given an opportunity to upset Felicity like this.

As if sensing Oliver's war with himself, Felicity solemnly looks up at Oliver and chews on her lip, their argument getting to her fragile state. "I should've known better."

Oliver frantically tries to find a way to keep this from exploding even more. "Felicity, I was going to . . ."

"When?" Felicity cries. Throwing her hands in the air Felicity's eyes begin to shed tears but she angrily brushes them away, while Oliver's chest constricts in pain. He did this to her – he made her feel she wasn't worthy of his friendship. There's no one else to blame but him, and it kills him to see her like this.

"All this time . . . I thought you didn't want me to move to Star City because you were jealous of me or – or just didn't want me to leave because of – never mind – but . . . you never trusted me to tell me the truth."

"That's not true, Felicity," he says vehemently. He would've told her when the time was right, considering things were distant between them for the past month.

"Your actions speak otherwise, Oliver." Placing a hand against her forehead, Felicity uses the other hand to point at him. "You made me believe this . . . version of you. How can you call that a friendship?"

He's at a loss for words and attempts to wrap his head around Felicity's statement. There's no version of Oliver – there are simply things he withheld due to his cowardice. And despite telling Felicity the truth, it isn't enough to fix things between them. Oliver's heart sinks in resignation and he realizes just how ruined things have become.

"This didn't change anything, did it?"

"Actually it did." Glancing away from him, Felicity inhales deeply and softly says, "Now I know you were lying to me the whole time and never thought I was important enough to know the truth."

"Felicity . . ."

There's no possible way he can show Felicity how much she means to him. Without her infectious smile and optimism, he would be nothing but a washed up has-been clinging onto what ifs. For the first time in seven years, she gave him an opportunity to feel something other than complete numbness and denial. Her guiding light gave him a chance to live month by month, instead of appointment by appointment.

Oliver can't put into words the love he feels for Felicity. It's so strong – it makes him anxious, nervous and happy all at once. It makes him want to shout in delirium, to smile until his lips are exhausted from doing so, and to desire a future with her.

She's everything to him.

"I'm an escape for you, aren't I? Just someone who makes you feel better and that's it?"

Uncrossing her arms, Felicity's eyes harden and any trace of warmth left in her disappears. A hint of panic begins to form in Oliver's body and he doesn't know how to tell Felicity she's utterly wrong about being an escape. He knows anything he says won't change her mind and it's killing him.

Felicity is a reality. Felicity is a home to him.

"No."

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth!" she despairs as a fresh batch of tears land on her cheeks.

Seeing her devastated by his reveal forces Oliver to frantically search for the right words to explain his stupid decisions, but he fails miserably. How can he articulate that he was scared of getting attached to someone, only to lose them in a freak accident? How can he say how much it aches to see how his life has changed, and that he wasn't jealous of Felicity's accomplishments, but instead of how Ray is everything he wishes he could be? How can even begin to talk about how much it shames him to be an escort?

Instead he mumbles, "I . . . don't . . . It's complicated" and immediately regrets doing so.

"God Oliver, you are the only person on earth who considers the truth complicated!" Felicity cries. Regaining control of her emotions, she scoffs then looks up at the ceiling before she looks back down at him and jabs a finger at Oliver.

"Admit it: you just didn't want to face the truth. You used me to sustain a fantasy."

Placing his fingers against the temples of his forehead, Oliver breathes in deeply to gather his thoughts but with no avail. Agitation seeps into his bones – he's beginning to know what helplessness feels like. He wants to scream and shout, and wishes time could freeze so he can stop this from spiraling out of control.

"Felicity – Jesus – I never used you. You're . . . Felicity, you're the closest thing to a home I can remember having."

Of all the things he's denied or admitted this afternoon, that is one truth he will forever stand by. Felicity must know he would never think of her like that. It aches to know Felicity feels this way, and there's no one else to blame but him.

It's quiet for a moment as Felicity tiredly closes her eyes, while Oliver's heart thunderously beats beneath his chest. He's never felt this uninhibited before – it's as if a high tide is about to engulf him, but it patiently waits until it's time to strike. The inevitable is torturing him.

Slowly opening her eyes, Felicity's eyes shine with sadness and he just knows her final decision has been made.

"A . . . home that's moving to Star City."

An overwhelming feeling of numbness takes hold of him. It's different from when he lost his parents, his home and his money. He felt fear back then, but right now he feels nothing but disappointment mixed in with a sense of failure. So many things went wrong to where he doesn't know at which point it all started to crumble. In the following hours and days, Oliver will dissect everything about this argument and all the times they've spent, but no matter how hard he tries, he'll know this was the inevitable end.

He failed their friendship.

"I'm so sorry, Felicity."

Refusing to look at him Felicity whispers, "Yeah, well, so am I."

Although they're not standing far away, it's as if they're thousands of miles apart. With each passing second, Felicity's presence gets smaller and smaller until she's nothing but a dot in the horizon. With a sinking realization, Oliver knows he's lost her forever.

"I ruined everything, didn't I?"

Only a couple of hours ago he promised to do whatever it took to protect those he loved. He thought it meant fighting for them, staying by their side until they're ready to go on their own. But for Felicity it means something different – it means letting her go. He respects and loves her too much to drag her down with his failures. Felicity deserves to go to Star City to make a real difference, and Oliver won't stop her.

With a heavy heart, Oliver savors one last look at Felicity, drinking in her tear-streaked face with her hair piled up in a sloppy bun. Oliver's heart aches knowing this will be the last time he'll see her – he wishes their goodbye could have happened under better circumstances.

"I . . . Good luck at Palmer Tech, Felicity. I mean it."

A strangled sob escapes Oliver and he quickly looks away, unable to face Felicity one more time. His vision blurs and he's vaguely aware of Felicity turning away, no doubt overwhelmed by her emotions as much as he is. Despite his body shaking, Oliver manages to turn and face the door; his hand gently pressing against the handle and loathe to open it.

He stays there for a minute, hoping for a miracle that will give him an opportunity to make things better between them. But Oliver knows better, and when it's time to say goodbye there's no way to stop it.

It doesn't feel like a new chapter in his life is starting – it feels like he's going back to Point A, back to who he was before he met Felicity. But the memories will stay and they'll haunt him forever. It'll ache to think about Felicity's smile and her laughter, and the first time she came to his apartment and burned all the food. It'll bring a twinge to his heart, reminding him of what could've been.

With a shaky breath, Oliver twists the doorknob and steps out of Felicity's apartment, effectively severing ties with the one person who brought him happiness. He's hit with an intense amount of dread, nervousness and helplessness, but soldiers on as he softly shuts the door behind him. For a moment Oliver considers opening the door again and to beg for Felicity's forgiveness, but it would be pointless.

It's time to let go, he finally admits to himself. And to his chagrin he does.

#olicity #olicity fic #oliver queen #felicity smoak #olicitysquee

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timothyakoonce · 7 years

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Entrepreneurs: How I Launched a Membership Community

[NOTE: This post continues a series exploring the topic of entrepreneurship. While my focus has and will continue to be on Facebook ads, I have plenty to share about what I’ve learned while building my business.]

A product launch is one of the most stressful decisions an entrepreneur can make. You plan. You overthink. You second guess. You worry that no one will buy.

I often talk about how the best thing you can do in a situation like that is to simply wing it. Don’t fear the unknown. Don’t overthink it. Launch and react.

That was the case with my first product nearly five years ago, when I launched a Power Editor training course. I wasted weeks and months worrying about it. One night, I simply sent an email with a PayPal button. No course existed yet. The rest is history.

Five years later, I still struggle with product launches. In particular, I struggle with launching a product for my entrepreneur community because it’s brand new for me. A new audience and no history that would provide me confidence in the results that I can expect.

Well, I finally launched a product for my entrepreneur community early this morning. In typical fashion, I did it mostly on a whim. After weeks and months of overthinking it.

Here’s a recap of how all of this went down in a matter of hours…

The PHC – Entrepreneurs Dilemma

Back in January, I decided to expand my content and begin writing a weekly blog post on the entrepreneurship topic. This was a big pivot for me, after focusing exclusively on Facebook advertising for the past several years.

As a result, launching a product on this topic wasn’t as easy as launching a Facebook ads product. While I have a large built-in audience, it’s not clear how much interest I’d have in a product for entrepreneurs. It was a lot like starting a business from scratch (with some advantages, of course).

I emailed my list a couple of times, asking for feedback. Each time, I took a step back. Each time, I felt less sure of myself.

Do I have enough interest to launch a community for entrepreneurs? Do I need to get focused on a specific type of entrepreneur? How do I add value without overextending myself? What other free options already exist? How do I price this? Would anyone even sign up?

“Whom Is This For?”

I recorded a Pubcast with John Robinson yesterday at 10am, and I spoke about my issues with figuring out my intended audience for an entrepreneurship product. Check out this unedited excerpt as I start thinking this through…

The moment I described was extremely important. Getting that feedback from Emeric felt, at the time, like a punch to the gut. It was a step backward hearing that he’d have no interest in a general community for entrepreneurs. But it made a lot of sense, once I brushed off my own sensitivity.

I have experiences as an entrepreneur that may apply to all entrepreneurs to a point, but I can provide the most value to those who are attempting to build a similar business. Like Emeric was saying, an entrepreneur building an app may find minimal value in my community. Someone with a brick and mortar business will also find less value.

But someone building an online business selling digital products? An entrepreneur focusing on blogging, list building and memberships? Yeah, I can help this person.

I compare it to how I found my own niche with the advanced Facebook ads topic. My content originally lacked any focus at all. I wrote about Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, YouTube and even Google Plus. I wrote about blogging. And when I wrote about Facebook, it could be about personal use, privacy settings, basic marketing or advertising.

It wasn’t until I got hyper focused on advanced Facebook advertising that I found my footing.

The Starting Line

At about the 20 minute point in my conversation with JR, an idea suddenly strikes me…

This is how my launches often happen. I can’t be talked into it. Suddenly, an idea strikes me and it gains momentum. Instead of planning for two weeks, I take that momentum and launch immediately.

The wheels started turning. What’s funny is that this is a true lightbulb moment. I’m distracted for much of the conversation from that point forward as I start polishing the idea.

The Beta Launch

Recall that this conversation was happening at about 10:25am at this point. I conducted my weekly PHC – Elite webinar at 2pm. At 1:45, 15 minutes before that webinar would begin, I threw together a slide and officially announced my intentions to launch a PHC – Entrepreneurs community…

vimeo

So I went from being frustrated by the obstacles in front of this community to officially announcing it within a span of four hours.

Immediately after finishing this webinar, I put all of the groundwork in to create tags, the Facebook group, checkout form and Infusionsoft campaign.

At 1:13am, I launched the beta to my PHC – Elite community with an email.

PHC – Entrepreneurs Email Announcement

I decided that I’d launch this beta to PHC – Elite members only. This would help control the beta, but it also allows me to get this product in front of my most valued customers first.

By opening the beta to PHC – Elite members only, it is also a nice added perk for membership. Indirectly, this launch also adds value and motivation for anyone thinking about joining PHC – Elite.

Following are the important details describing this community to those invited…

Hey, XXX! I made a big announcement during yesterday’s PHC – Elite webinar, and you may have missed it. I’m taking the plunge and launching a new PHC community for entrepreneurs!

This is a really big deal for me. It’s the first time since my business started nearly six years ago that I’ve created a product for something other than Facebook marketing. I’m excited, and a little bit nervous!

Go here to sign up for the exclusive beta at only $9/month:

https://XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX

If you’ve followed along at all, you know that I’ve been agonizing over this for a while. I started writing content for entrepreneurs during the first week of 2017. I even started a free webinar for entrepreneurs, too. I wanted to create a product as well, but I’ve struggled to pull the trigger.

It wasn’t until recording an upcoming episode of the Pubcast with JR yesterday that it finally came together. I’m ready to launch this thing!

Of course, I have some normal jitters about this move. While I have some expectations regarding whom this group is for and what the content will be, this isn’t yet finalized. And I’m still not sure just how many people will sign up.

That’s why I launched it as a beta, for a very small and excluive group. And you’re included!

THE PHC – ENTREPRENEURS BETA

I decided I’d launch PHC – Entrepreneurs, but make it available ONLY for PHC – Elite members right now as a beta. This is an exclusive invite! While I will write about this for the public, only PHC – Elite members can sign up right now. And only PHC – Elite members will get the beta price of $9/month (for life).

There are many things I need to figure out about the final product, and I hope you can help me get there. One of those items on the checklist is price. Something I heard from prospective members is that they don’t want it to be too cheap — they want it to be more exclusive, to keep out the “riff-raff.”

For now, though, only PHC – Elite members can sign up for $9 per month. So there won’t be any riff-raff. And even after the beta period is complete, you will continue to get access for this dirt cheap price. But I fully intend to raise the price (probably significantly) — and you’ll help me determine what that price should be.

Join me here:

https://XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX

WHO IS PHC – ENTREPRENEURS FOR?

Something I’ve realized is that this group shouldn’t be broadly for all entrepreneurs. I understand that there are many different niches within entrepreneurship, and not everyone will value the same information.

As a result, I’ve decided — at least initially — to focus on entrepreneurs with the following characteristics:

Online, digital based

Minimal emphasis on physical, brick and mortar

Digital products and memberships

Minimal emphasis on physical products

Blogging and list building

Webinars and ebooks

Education and training programs

Basically, everything above describes my business. That doesn’t mean that your business needs to be exactly like mine to find value in this community, but the more commonalities, the better!

I also believe we should have common core values. Here are mine:

Honesty, integrity and transparency

No shortcuts

No get rich quick schemes

Priority is lifestyle over getting rich and famous

PHC – ENTREPRENEURS TODAY

As of today, PHC – Entrepreneurs will consist of two primary things:

Private Facebook group for entrepreneurs like you

Regular webinars and other live events to discuss entrepreneurship topics

It’s brand new. This community is in beta. But this is what you can expect — at minimum.

YOUR ROLE IN PHC – ENTREPRENEURS

You have a very exclusive opportunity to help me build this community, and I’m excited to have you involved!

I’m launching this in beta because I still have some unknowns that I need finalized. You can help me bring together the following:

What resources should be available?

What content should be created?

What topics should be covered?

What value should be provided?

How much should this cost to guarantee optimal value of members?

I will constantly poll you and even consider group meetings to help bring this together. I envision this being a two-month process before we make an official launch.

LET’S DO THIS!

I’m so excited to get this going in beta, and I’m pumped to have you involved. This is such a big move for my business — I feel it! — and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

This beta opportunity will go away once the community is launched to the public. But if you sign up now, you’ll continue to get that crazy $9/month price as long as you’re a member (without interruption).

If you still need that link to sign up, go here:

https://XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX

This is beta, so there’s no landing page yet. Everything you need to know is in this email.

If this community isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. It’s not supposed to be for everyone!

If you have any questions at all, just hit reply.

Cheers,

Jon

Phase 1

As mentioned at the top, launching a product may be the most difficult step. That’s Phase 1, and it’s complete.

Over the coming days and weeks, I am going to soak up everything I can from the members of this new community to help determine it’s ultimate direction. I’ve created a survey as the first step to get a better idea of what they want to see covered and how.

Where do we go from here? We’ll see. Maybe the community never gets off the ground, and that’s perfectly fine. I launched in beta, and I can always close it down.

But without taking this plunge, I’d never know for sure. I can’t wait to see where this goes.

Yes, It’s a Closed Beta

I want to clarify that this beta is only available for PHC – Elite members right now. There won’t be any exceptions.

That’s difficult because I know that there are many in my audience that will be a good fit for this and would benefit immensely from this community. I only ask that you remain patient as we iron out the details.

If all goes well, expect an official rollout by July. If you can’t wait that long, join PHC – Elite first!

Your Turn

What are your product launches like? Are they carefully planned or due they erupt in a blaze of inspiration and chaos like mine?

Let me know in the comments below!

The post Entrepreneurs: How I Launched a Membership Community appeared first on Jon Loomer Digital.

from Jon Loomer Digital https://www.jonloomer.com/2017/04/27/entrepreneurs-how-i-launched-a-membership-community/

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marketingplaybook · 7 years

Text

Entrepreneurs: How I Launched a Membership Community

A product launch is one of the most stressful decisions an entrepreneur can make. You plan. You overthink. You second guess. You worry that no one will buy.

I often talk about how the best thing you can do in a situation like that is to simply wing it. Don’t fear the unknown. Don’t overthink it. Launch and react.

Well, I finally launched a product for my entrepreneur community early this morning. In typical fashion, I did it mostly on a whim. After weeks and months of overthinking it.

Here’s a recap of how all of this went down in a matter of hours…

The PHC – Entrepreneurs Dilemma

I emailed my list a couple of times, asking for feedback. Each time, I took a step back. Each time, I felt less sure of myself.

“Whom Is This For?”

But someone building an online business selling digital products? An entrepreneur focusing on blogging, list building and memberships? Yeah, I can help this person.

It wasn’t until I got hyper focused on advanced Facebook advertising that I found my footing.

The Starting Line

At about the 20 minute point in my conversation with JR, an idea suddenly strikes me…

This is how my launches often happen. I can’t be talked into it. Suddenly, an idea strikes me and it gains momentum. Instead of planning for two weeks, I take that momentum and launch immediately.

The wheels started turning. What’s funny is that this is a true lightbulb moment. I’m distracted for much of the conversation from that point forward as I start polishing the idea.

The Beta Launch

vimeo

So I went from being frustrated by the obstacles in front of this community to officially announcing it within a span of four hours.

Immediately after finishing this webinar, I put all of the groundwork in to create tags, the Facebook group, checkout form and Infusionsoft campaign.

At 1:13am, I launched the beta to my PHC – Elite community with an email.

PHC – Entrepreneurs Email Announcement

I decided that I’d launch this beta to PHC – Elite members only. This would help control the beta, but it also allows me to get this product in front of my most valued customers first.

By opening the beta to PHC – Elite members only, it is also a nice added perk for membership. Indirectly, this launch also adds value and motivation for anyone thinking about joining PHC – Elite.

Following are the important details describing this community to those invited…

Hey, XXX! I made a big announcement during yesterday’s PHC – Elite webinar, and you may have missed it. I’m taking the plunge and launching a new PHC community for entrepreneurs!

Go here to sign up for the exclusive beta at only $9/month:

https://XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX

It wasn’t until recording an upcoming episode of the Pubcast with JR yesterday that it finally came together. I’m ready to launch this thing!

That’s why I launched it as a beta, for a very small and excluive group. And you’re included!

THE PHC – ENTREPRENEURS BETA

Join me here:

https://XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX

WHO IS PHC – ENTREPRENEURS FOR?

As a result, I’ve decided — at least initially — to focus on entrepreneurs with the following characteristics:

Online, digital based

Minimal emphasis on physical, brick and mortar

Digital products and memberships

Minimal emphasis on physical products

Blogging and list building

Webinars and ebooks

Education and training programs

Basically, everything above describes my business. That doesn’t mean that your business needs to be exactly like mine to find value in this community, but the more commonalities, the better!

I also believe we should have common core values. Here are mine:

Honesty, integrity and transparency

No shortcuts

No get rich quick schemes

Priority is lifestyle over getting rich and famous

PHC – ENTREPRENEURS TODAY

As of today, PHC – Entrepreneurs will consist of two primary things:

Private Facebook group for entrepreneurs like you

Regular webinars and other live events to discuss entrepreneurship topics

It’s brand new. This community is in beta. But this is what you can expect — at minimum.

YOUR ROLE IN PHC – ENTREPRENEURS

You have a very exclusive opportunity to help me build this community, and I’m excited to have you involved!

I’m launching this in beta because I still have some unknowns that I need finalized. You can help me bring together the following:

What resources should be available?

What content should be created?

What topics should be covered?

What value should be provided?

How much should this cost to guarantee optimal value of members?

I will constantly poll you and even consider group meetings to help bring this together. I envision this being a two-month process before we make an official launch.

LET’S DO THIS!

I’m so excited to get this going in beta, and I’m pumped to have you involved. This is such a big move for my business — I feel it! — and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

If you still need that link to sign up, go here:

https://XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX-XXX

This is beta, so there’s no landing page yet. Everything you need to know is in this email.

If this community isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. It’s not supposed to be for everyone!

If you have any questions at all, just hit reply.

Cheers,

Jon

Phase 1

As mentioned at the top, launching a product may be the most difficult step. That’s Phase 1, and it’s complete.

Where do we go from here? We’ll see. Maybe the community never gets off the ground, and that’s perfectly fine. I launched in beta, and I can always close it down.

But without taking this plunge, I’d never know for sure. I can’t wait to see where this goes.

Yes, It’s a Closed Beta

I want to clarify that this beta is only available for PHC – Elite members right now. There won’t be any exceptions.

If all goes well, expect an official rollout by July. If you can’t wait that long, join PHC – Elite first!

Your Turn

What are your product launches like? Are they carefully planned or due they erupt in a blaze of inspiration and chaos like mine?

Let me know in the comments below!

The post Entrepreneurs: How I Launched a Membership Community appeared first on Jon Loomer Digital.

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