You know what I see here?
AMELL: Man, my wife is hot.
EMBETT: Man, your wife is hot.
@cjjingram / cjjingram.tumblr.com
You know what I see here?
AMELL: Man, my wife is hot.
EMBETT: Man, your wife is hot.
She refused to meet his eyes knowing she was hurting him, was crushing his hope. And it wasn’t like she wasn’t in pain too. His words at the fake wedding had almost swayed her, but she’d forced herself to be strong and not give in. He hadn’t changed and after all these years he wasn’t going to change.
Oliver was Oliver and that was the way it was.
She’d accepted it. She had no choice but to accept it.
Their playing house together days were over, and she was ending this. It was just too hard to keep doing this.
And as she watched, he tried to put his mask on, attempted to hide his pain as his back straighten and he inhaled. Ducking his head for an instant, she watched as he forced his head up and looked above her, stared straight past her, clearly no longer seeing her, and she knew he was silently imploding, as he swallowed hard and exhaled and her chest ached desperately for the both of them.
God this hurting him was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, even if he’d lied and kept secrets from her for months, even if he’d hurt her, this was still one of the hardest things she’d ever done.
But this was his fault, and she held fast to that fact. He’d destroyed them, destroyed their love, and they’d nothing left to build a relationship on.
She was sure of it.
However, this torturing each other had to stop. She couldn’t take much more.
This relationship was over as of tonight.
This time it was her that had made a decision.
They weren’t right for each other and never would be. She had to keep telling herself that. And maybe, if she told herself that enough times, she would start believing it, could convince herself, and then maybe she could go on with her life.
Throat dry, eyes burning, she straightened her spine. Turning, she walked away from him, knowing that she was going to cry, no sob for them, just as soon as she got out of his ear shot.
“I don’t want to let you go.” His voice was raw.
“I don’t want to let you go.” She turned back and looked back at him. He stood there looking anywhere but at her with one hand in his pocket and the other hand fingering the ring. Lacing her fingers together to stop from reaching for him, she said, “But I’m already gone.
Turning again, she walked away straight backed, as she ignored, no pretended, that she didn’t hear that sound, that terrible wounded animal sound, he made as she walked out the door leaving him alone. But there was no way, she would would ever forget that awful sound.
And yes, she missed him already.
####OQ#####
I realize that this a sore spot (scene) for all of us. Hence the silence on reviews. And I know it was painful to watch and probably to read. I hated that scene but my writing is like that, if it wants written it gets written. Now, personally, I wanted her to take his ring back, wanted her to forgive him and that’s the reason the writers didn’t let us have it.
They know that there’s more drama in Olicity being broke up than in Olicity being together, and there’s more viewers pulled in by waiting to see if they got back together. (They are still dangling that carrot for season 5.) I get it and understand it, even if I hate it, but now does anyone want Oliver’s POV on this scene? It’s been nagging at me today.
I think I’m going to write it. Opinions anyone?
Now as always thanks for the read.
This is heart wrenching and beautiful.
I would love an Oliver POV - although I’ll imagine it’ll hurt even more.
Why am I going through these old tags? 😒😢😢
So after some encouragement from @wherethereissmoak and @tdgal1 I’ve chosen to take the weekly Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-thon prompts and, use them to continue this fic. It should be fun challenge so thanks again to @thebookjumper for organizing this weekly event!
So here’s my entry for this week’s prompt Out of place!
Read it here or on AO3
Part 2~ Forever out of place
“I can’t believe you sold me like a common whore,” Felicity roared as the doors behind her slammed darkly.
Her mother’s ice cold eyes sneered at her daughter’s chosen defiance. She crossed the room and, reached for the only book Felicity had ever bothered to read more than once from cover to cover. The aged leather binding cracked beneath her mother’s skillful hands. “We have a job to do or have you forgotten the vow you took when you turned eighteen?” her mother warned almost somberly as she threw the book towards the center of the oval shaped room. The red and, black curtains whipped about the walls while the elder witch used the still air of the stale room to create a funnel at the base of the dome shaped ceiling.
Felicity watched unimpressed while her mother swept her hands wildly until the funnel cloud began to take it’s cylindrical shape. The book remained frozen at the center of the cyclone hovering innocently while a foolish woman used her gifts to throw a tantrum.
“If you think I’m going to be scared into agreeing you’ve forgotten I’m next in line,” Felicity snarled as her own fingers flew towards the raging storm.
Her mother’s eyes darkened, “Yes next…” she growled before she forced the invented storm to rage outwards towards her daughter’s waiting form.
Felicity blocked the deadly lightning strike with a flick of her beautiful blue eyes. Donna’s lips fell in shock when Felicity then raised her outstretched palms and cried darkly towards the turbulence above their hands, “ENOUGH!” The roaring thunder and drizzling rain vanished. The dark hardwood boards of the ceiling returned to view as the elder blonde stood before her daughter flummoxed.
“How?” she mouthed a bit proudly.
Felicity tilted her head towards her outstretched hand, the hovering book flew towards her waiting fingers. Her satisfied smile grew when she innocently replied, “Some books I didn’t need to read more than once…”
Donna’s frozen eyes began beaming with un-caged pride. “You do understand what we have to gain don’t you? You’ll be apart of history if I succeed.”
Felicity shrugged while she calmly flipped through the aged pages of a book that had been around since the first union between a vampire and, a witch was ever used as a tactic to protect human life. “You and I are the last of the original bloodline mother. We’re the only ones who remember the original pact that the Queen’s made when they first ventured towards our sleepy little hamlet. I’m also the only one that knows you’ve secretly been killing off the other clans for hundreds of years.”
A gifset of Felicity getting a smile out of Oliver when he’s feeling down.
ok this is “earring magic ken” who was introduced in 1992 (and discontinued shortly thereafter)
basically mattel had done a survey and discovered that girls didn’t think ken was “cool” enough
SO someone had the bright idea to research coolness by sending people to raves which, at the time, were mostly hosted & attended by gay men. so they went to these raves and took notes on what the fashions were and finally landed on this outfit, mesh shirt & all
this doll became the best selling ken doll in history, mostly because gay men bought it in droves. (many of them said his necklace was supposed to be a cockring) but mattel and a number of parents weren’t very amused and discontinued the doll
OH MY GOD YOU’RE LEAVING OUT THE BEST PART
SO
MAGIC EARRING KEN. This bitch gay as HELL. supposedly the aforementioned rings on him are for “magic earrings” and clip on charms. These charms are advertised as totally COMPLETELY heterosexual, not gay at ALL, see there’s a Barbie that also has Magic Earring Action with clip on charms! Ken wears them to match, because he’s STRAIGHT
Here’s the issue: THERE IS NO MATCHING BARBIE. Magic Earring Ken is out here straight up wearing cock rings on his jacket with a thinly devised advertising ploy to make it SEEM not-gay. But it’s DEFINITELY GAY. (And if you’re thinking, why cock rings? Well way back in 1992 gay culture was HUGE on wearing cock rings, it was the in-style. Everyone who was gay wore one, even women; you sewed them to your leather jacket, and the placement indicated some of your sexual preference. In case you were wondering, Ken is a Bottom.)
AND IT GETS BETTER. Magic Earring Ken was on the shelves for six weeks before they pulled him. In that short amount of time? Magic Earring Ken became the BEST SELLING Barbie Doll Mattel has EVER SOLD. LET THAT SINK IN. SIX WEEKS. And now every time these wheezy old hetero windbag execs go to look at their sales board, they’re forever haunted by Magic Earring Ken at the top of their charts.
Gay as hell, Cock Ring Bottom Ken, the Best Selling Mattel Doll. Pride.
I would buy this doll proudly. Hell yes.
For all those writing soulmate fics these days, enjoy and feel free to use to your heart’s content!
“We found ourselves in each other”.
So lovely ❤️❤️❤️
Beautiful
AU. Strangers who meet young. Stuff happens.
This just came to me watching the rain right now. Hope you enjoy it :)
It was on a cold, snowy night that she saw him for the first time.
The world was wrapped in white all around their small townhouse and the little snowflakes were continuing to fall. For a few hours, she’d been out with her dad, tasting the snowflakes on her little pink tongue, making small balls with her hands and wetting her thick mittens. But the chill had gotten too bad so she’d come inside to her warm, delicious-smelling house, had cleaned up and sat her tush on her chair beside the dining table.
It was then, while drinking from her hot cup of chocolate with the marshmallows as night fell outside, while her parents sat before her with their backs to the large windows, that she saw him.
Gaunt. Thin. Pale.
Cold.
He looked so cold. His teeth visibly chattered in the wind she could see blowing outside, the paleness of his skin matching the falling snow. And in that pale, thin face of overlong, messy blond hair, she saw those sad blue eyes, blue like the beautiful sky on a clear day. He was looking into the house, his eyes roaming all over the place, taking in everything with such longing on that tired face that her eyes filled.
He caught her looking at him.
Fear flashed across his face.
And then, he was gone.
Before she could utter a word.
She went to her warm bed that night, thinking of the cold boy with the sad blue eyes.
She went to her soft bed, an eight-year-old who didn’t know her life had changed.
She caught him outside her window the next night.
Her little heart beat faster when she found him, leaning against the glass, peeking inside her small bedroom. Before she could stop herself, she climbed down from the bed and without turning on the lights, went to the window.
She leaned her head back at looked slightly up at him, seeing his blue eyes widen for a second upon seeing her awake. Tilting her head to the side, she took in the thin, ugly sweater he wore with a small hole near his shoulder, the jeans that had faded to an almost light color, and the scuffed shoes. Then, she peeked down at her own thick red socks, her tummy hurting for him.
But she couldn’t invite him inside. She couldn’t talk to him either. He was a stranger and talking to strangers was bad.
Biting her lip, she looked back up into his sad eyes, and slowly placed her tiny hands on the glass opposite his.
His hands, just slightly bigger than hers, shook.
Before she could question herself, Felicity ran back to her bed, plucked out her favorite blue blanket - with the big brown wolf looking up at the big yellow moon that her mom had made for her - and dragged it to the window, almost falling down twice under the weight of the thing.
The boy watched her quietly, stepping back when she opened the window, thrust the blanket into his arms and slammed the glass down again before he could snatch her away.
She saw the boy look down at her favorite blanket in his arms, saw his fingers curl around it, and saw him look up.
And she grinned.
His eyes weren’t so sad anymore.
She woke up extra early the next morning, just to see if he was there.
He wasn’t.
Quelling the disappointment down, Felicity jumped to the kitchen, a new mission on her mind.
He came that night, wordlessly, soundlessly, wrapped in her blanket, and pressed those hands upon the glass.
She got down from the bed on her tippy toes, wordlessly, soundlessly, and pressed her hands against his.
Then she snatched the Tupperware of pie she’d been saving for him the whole day, opened the window a peek and thrust it into his arms before slamming the window down again.
He looked down at the box for a long time, his lips trembling, before looking up at her.
And she knew, without a doubt, he would be back.
OHHHHHH MYYYYY GOD!!!!!I SWEAR I DIED AND I BROUFHT BACK TO LIFE….THAT WAS EPIC…IT WAS AMAZING!!!!!SOOO FREAKING INTENSE!!!!I COULDN’T BREATHE!!AAAHHHHHHH!!!!! @blindspot-fanatic YOU ARE GOING TO PASS OUT!!!YOU HAVE TO READ THIS!!!THIS IS DIVINE!!!! @miriam1779 I AM STILL CRYING
Thank you so much, Theo! 😍 😍 😍
Okay so this is my submission for the Olicity Hiatus fic a-thon created by @olicityhiatusficathon or @thebookjumper
The prompt this week was At Odds so I felt who would be more at odds than a vampire and a witch? This my first kinda scifi fic so please be kind!
Read it here or on AO3
“Forever at Odds”
He moved swiftly as always feeling the wind pulsate around him like the very heartbeat of the midnight hours. His feet barely touched the stark, cold sidewalks as he scanned for the faint glow of her warm blooded heart. He snarled lowly but, kept his anger in check. Night wasn’t safe for someone like her and, yet she kept insisting on cheating death with the very independence that seemed to draw him to her.
Two other souls were out. He could feel them kissing the air as the two swiftly flew along the currents of the midnight sky. One he noted was smaller and, more compact in nature; her partner was larger, stronger but oddly not the dominate mate. If his heart could beat it would have raced through the clouds and, back while the two lovers raced along the edge of his senses. They too could sense her and, like moths to an endless flame they sought to conquer her very lively, fiery glow.
Closing his cold, endlessly blue eyes allowed him to sharpen the one sense that not even being a member of the undead could’ve improved. He let his body go limp, his pushed his fingers to his sides and, he tilted his head toward the sky while he listened to the heartbeat of the night. He could hear every blade of grass she touched as the small pieces bent softly, he felt her soft skin moving along her cold arms, he could hear her warm blood racing through her clenched heart in fear as the wolves moved closer. In an instant his eyes were open, his body was sparked into action the moment he heard a low whimpered, “Oliver?” pierce the otherwise silent air.
Thousands of leaves and, downed branches brushed against his bare skin while he used his advantageous speed to move rigorously through the forest near the edge of the slightly populated town. The hunters were distracted; something better had sparked their interest. He could feel their footsteps moving away from the woman whose heart was the only other sound within a 50 mile radius. He continued running along the hidden path until the edge of her blonde waves made his stride falter into a heavy footed tumble.