Just me

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Video of Tama

^Nitama majestic, and below with Yontama

Yontama.

The shrine of Tama Daimyōjin (Great gracious deity Tama), next to the Kishi station where she worked.

And they are announcing the winner of the “up and coming god” award, and of course, Yato thinks it’s him.

But no-

One of my cats was pawing at the door and meowing loudly, an indication she REALLY needs to use the litter box.  I let her out and decide, hey, I’m hungry, and decide to the kitchen.  I forgot to shut the bedroom door. 

Next thing I hear is the group going completely silent.  My husband very calmly asks me to come over and help him gather our two cats up.  I go over to where the group is and my black cat, Cacoa, is rubbing up against the guy’s leg, purring, and doing her “let me on your lap” meow.  The other cat, Jasper, is sitting at the window, chilling out.  I go over and pick up Cacoa and tell the big dude she’s harmless, loves laps, and would be thrilled if he pet her.  Very slowly he touches my cat’s face, and she leans right into his hand.  He then pets her back and sighs because she’s really soft and purring like mad.  After a few minutes he asks how to pick her up and if it’s okay if she sits on his lap.

The Hospital Hymn

Mine at Midnight followed Oliver and Felicity’s New Year’s Eve nights for seven years. The rest of these chapters will be nonlinear oneshots that fill in some moments in between. 

Read on AO3.

Excerpt from Mine at Midnight:

“He woke her up just before midnight with his lips on her face.

She opened her eyes, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer, “Hi, honey.” she mumbled, her voice sounding sleepy even to her own ears.

Oliver sighed, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. “Hi.”

“Where have you been?” She asked, glancing at the clock.

He pulled back, kicking his shoes into the corner of the room and pulling his shirt off. “I went to see my mom,” he said, climbing into bed beside her.

Felicity raised an eyebrow, “Okay,” she said slowly, “can’t say I saw that coming.”

He laughed gently, “I just needed to talk to her.”

She ran her hand over his hair as he laid down on his stomach, turning his head to face her. “Did she help?” Felicity asked, smoothing her palm over his back as he tucked his arms beneath his pillow.

Oliver nodded, “Yeah, she did. She told me not to make the same mistakes my dad did.”

“Sleeping with your employees?” He gave her a look and she cringed, “Sorry.”

“QC was my dad’s life.” Felicity ran her fingers up and down his back, and he sighed. “Growing up, I never expected him to show up for baseball games, or award ceremonies, or birthday parties. Because I never wanted to get my hopes up and be disappointed. I gave up on ever expecting him to come. My mom eventually gave up on trying to change him. It was just who he was. We got closer when I was older, but he never had any patience for kids. Not even his own. So he kept his distance. He cared about his company more than anything, that’s why it became so successful.”

Felicity slid closer to him, pressing her lips to his arm. She’d heard the stories before, but it still made her sad that his childhood had been like that. And she knew that he had been trying so hard to be the attentive and loving kind of father that he hadn’t had. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I know you loved him, Oliver. And he loved you too, in his own way.”

“He did. He was the best dad that he was capable of being. But I’ve become just like him lately, and that’s not the kind of father that I want to be. Or the kind of husband. I vowed to you, Felicity, that I would never leave you alone,” he cringed, his brows furrowing, “and I know you’ve been feeling like I did…”

Tags:

An update

Mommy!Felicity

Daddy!Oliver

Hospital

Conclusion

He’s an ex-special forces personal trainer. She’s the CEO of Smoak Technologies.

Oliver and Felicity could not live more different lives, except for two particularly significant similarities.

They both have service dogs and they have the same therapist.

AKA the “we both go to the same therapist and have service dogs and i saw you having a panic attack in the corner so i decided to get you a donut” olicity au that nobody asked for.

Please taggity tag tag tag!!!!

“I bet I can make you scream my name.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes at the challenge. 

He hadn’t been drinking nearly enough to deal with this - with the dark glint in her eye, the smirk on her beautiful red lips, the gorgeous flush of her cheeks as what she’d just said caught up with her. She’d always been really good that, speaking before thinking, but where before she would have let her mortification take over, now she used it as fuel. 

Against him.

Oliver clenched his jaw, not backing down. She wanted to push him, to make him snap, to piss him off. Being an utter asshole about every-fucking-thing wasn’t enough, apparently, she had to take it to this level, too.

The holiday party swirled around them, people bumping into them, Christmas music filling the air along with the clink of glasses and laughter and conversation.

None of it pierced the tense bubble growing between them.

“How much?” Oliver responded.

Surprise colored her face. She wasn’t expecting that. She wanted him to get pissed, wanted him to rail against her, to prove that the utter fucking mess that their lives had become was somehow his fault, that this vitriolic shit show was all on him.

Well, tough fucking shit.

“How much?” he repeated, stepping closer, towering over his ex-wife.

A flicker of indecision sparked in her eyes, and he almost faltered, almost stepped back, but he had had enough of that damn whiskey Diggle kept on hand to keep advancing on her. She let out an uneven breath before steeling herself. 

She looked ready for battle… except her eyes darted down to his lips before she caught herself. 

Dark satisfaction filled him - she was still just as affected as she was and if she was going to use it, so was he. 

“How much you wanna bet, Felicity?” Oliver asked, leaning in, close enough for his lips to brush her cheek, for him to speak in that low voice he knew made her knees weak. And it did, if her shudder and quick jerk to keep from toppling over was any indication. It was a double-edged sword though because the second he opened that memory floodgate, another was right on its heels, reminding him how goddamn hard he got just knowing he could make her soak her panties with his voice alone. He gritted his teeth even harder, ignoring the fact that his pants were getting too tight, closing his eyes as he kept going. “We could make it even more interesting and see if you still scream loud enough to have the neighbors calling the cops, hm? Remember when I had you screaming so much you could barely speak the next morning, and then I spent the entire day licking every goddamn inch of you until all you had left were gasps?”

She whimpered and he let out a harsh breath as he rocketed them both back into the past, to a time when things were the complete fucking opposite of this.

Felicity huffed out a sardonic little laugh, but it was undercut by the fact that she didn’t move away as she whispered, “You won’t ever get a single sound from me again.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Oliver said. He could feel the anger coming off her in waves. “We both know that’s a lie.”

She didn’t skip a beat.

Felicity’s hand landed on his chest, her fingers slipping in-between the buttons of his flannel so her nails could scrape over his chest. His heart simultaneously seized and jumped to life at the same time, her touch making him gasp before he could stop himself.

“Just like we both know I’d win this bet,” she said, pushing up on her toes so her lips grazed over his ear. The zipper of his jeans bit into his growing hardness just as he felt her hard nipples pressing into him. “Because the second I get my lips wrapped around you, you will say and do anything I want.” Felicity pulled back to look him in the eye. “Anything.”

“Not anymore,” Oliver vowed, but even he could hear how wrong he was.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Felicity turned away and Oliver didn’t even bother trying to temper his reaction. He snatched her back, gripping her waist hard enough to leave bruises as he tugged her back into his chest. His drink sloshed over the fingers of his other hand as he whispered into her ear, “Meet me in the guest bedroom in five minutes and we’ll see who keeps fucking lying to themselves.”

“Mayhem, Moonlight and a Merry Christmas”

A Christmas Olicity Historical AU: What happens when a handsome Earl is visited by a beautiful young debutante in the middle of the night?

A/N: Wishing you all a wonderful Holiday season and a very, Merry Christmas.  This one-shot was inspired by one of my favorite Historical Romance books called, “To Wed A Wicked Earl” by Olivia Parker.  

~~~~~~~~~~

1820 London

Long, cold fingers, of the frosty December night, trailed over the bare chest and sculpted arms of the slumbering Earl of Starling, Oliver Queen.  

They startled him from the heated depths of a particularly, enjoyable dream. One filled with a beloved, bespectacled visage, peony pink tinted lips and lustrous blonde curls that his sleep muddled brain swore could still be felt wrapped around his fingers.

Oliver shivered then sat up.  His silk bedsheet pooling around his waist as he peered through sleepy eyes in the direction of the loud thud that echoed from the far corner of his master suite.   The French doors of his second story bedroom balcony stood open and he watched in dismay as a dark shadow twisted and fought within the tangled curtains and took shape into the form of a woman.

My blog:

I assumed I just wasn’t writing very well, but maybe it’s not just me.

This blog is down approximately 80%, which doesn’t affect me other than as an annoyance (as this is a hobby and @okayto is small-ish) but the issue undoubtedly hurts others.

Below are instructions for turning it off. You have to do it individually–it doesn’t matter if a blog you follow turns it off, you’ll still be affected unless you do the same.