THINGS I CANT RESIST
asker
In honor of my bus ride from hell: Felicity's stuck taking public transportation home from work and asks Dig to pick her up when there's a problem and the bus is detained. Oliver - or the Arrow - shows up instead.

outoftheclosetshipper:

justscribbling:

Alas, Sam, no angst here for you. ^_~ This oneshot was also one of those scenes where I kept writing in search of its direction or goal…and I’m still not sure it had any.  :-P

(1.3K words)

***

Downtown Starling City wasn’t a bad place.  But like many metropolitan city centers, the rat race bustle of the day all but disappeared at night, and in the hours circling midnight, the tall office buildings seemed to loom, the empty streets crisscrossed like a daunting maze, and the chilled air slipped past even the thickest cardigans.

Or at least, Felicity’s cardigan.

Which wasn’t that thick, she admitted, but as she stood on the sidewalk next to the broken down  bus, she wasn’t quite in the mood to take any responsibility for her bad night, nope.

It had started with an emergency call into Kord Industries over a server crashing, which turned out to be oops, no, it’s not a single server, but the whole network in Lab 10-B. And was she aware, asked the snooty manager who had been her point of contact for the company, that they were planning to launch the new protocol in the morning? Which meant this needed to be fixed tonight?

Said snooty manager hadn’t even shown up, only conveying insistence and panic over constant (and disruptive) telephone calls.

By the time she had fixed things, even the scathing incident report she sent to said snooty manager’s boss didn’t make her feel better.

(Two weeks ago, she had advised on what needed to be done to avoid this exact problem. None of it was implemented despite her repeated queries over its status and offers to come in and ensure it was done.)

(She still wasn’t sure if she should have deleted the “You have failed this project.” line in her comments.)

It was close to midnight when she finally headed to her car, simply exhausted. It turned out her car was just as exhausted: it wouldn’t start.

It was past midnight by the time she got on the last metropolitan bus out of the city, its sole passenger.

And it took no more than fifteen minutes for that vehicle’s engine to stutter and die on some lonesome street.

The bus driver had only shrugged when she’d asked if someone would come by to fix the bus — or, you know, provide some other means of transport?

It really, really wasn’t a good night.

She went through her options and with a sigh, made the call on her phone.

Digg picked up on the second ring. “Felicity?”

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I want a scene like this on the show. I don’t care which season it happens, so long as it does. Exactly like this. Word per word.

3x11 and 4x09

(Source: crappaccino)

asker
Hey Hon! Can I leave you a prompt? Oliver must go to surgery because of his knee so when he is under the anesthesia he confess his love to Felicity to everybody (the doctor,nurses,Digg,Roy...everybody) Glad you're taking prompts!

harnessthe-light:

"Why- why are the lights so bri- Hey! I know that lamp! And that lamp! Oh! And that one too!"

Felicity’s eyes widened as Oliver swung his arm around, pointing at various items in his room.

"Wow," Roy observed, his eyebrows shooting up. "That’s the most I’ve ever heard him say, like, ever."

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happyless:

ultrafacts:

aussietory:

third-way-is-best-way:

tuxedoandex:

kvotheunkvothe:

ultrafacts:

Source For more facts follow Ultrafacts

EVERY TIME SOMEONE BRINGS UP THE LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA I GET SO ANGRY.

but why

Because it got burned. All of that knowledge, lost forever.



The library was destroyed over 1000’s of years ago. The library consisted of thousands of scrolls and books about mathematics, engineering, physiology, geography, blueprints, medicine, plays, & important scriptures. Thinkers from all over the Mediterranean used to come to Alexandria to study.Most of the major work of civilization up until that point was lost. If the library still survived till this day, society may have been more advanced and we would sure know more about the ancient world.

***INSANELY PAINFUL SHRIEKING***

happyless:

ultrafacts:

aussietory:

third-way-is-best-way:

tuxedoandex:

kvotheunkvothe:

ultrafacts:

Source For more facts follow Ultrafacts

EVERY TIME SOMEONE BRINGS UP THE LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA I GET SO ANGRY.

but why

Because it got burned. All of that knowledge, lost forever.

The library was destroyed over 1000’s of years ago. The library consisted of thousands of scrolls and books about mathematics, engineering, physiology, geography, blueprints, medicine, plays, & important scriptures. Thinkers from all over the Mediterranean used to come to Alexandria to study.Most of the major work of civilization up until that point was lost. If the library still survived till this day, society may have been more advanced and we would sure know more about the ancient world.

***INSANELY PAINFUL SHRIEKING***

befitandchase:

Also available on ff.net and AO3.
——————————————————————————————————-
Part 5
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
A single chime from the bank of computers pulled Diggle out of his phone call. He turned sharply to find a new prompt on the screen. “Updates complete. Please restart.” The urge to do a fist pump hit him harder than ever, but he refrained, clicking OK to restart the system as he was asked. Felicity would probably kill him for touching her babies without her permission, but in this case, he had a feeling she’d be okay with it.
It took less than a minute to reboot the system and have it fully operational again. Diggle took a seat at the desk and began typing commands, pulling up topographical maps of the state park Oliver mentioned just before he left then zeroing in on possible campsites. Not knowing how to pull up current satellite images like Felicity did, he focused on getting a signal from the trackers she and Oliver had in their shoes.
The first search yielded no results. Diggle let out a frustrated grunt but he wasn’t deterred. He kept searching for his partners even as the door to the Foundry slammed and a set of footsteps echoed down the metal staircase.
"Where’s the boss man?" Roy asked when he appeared at Diggle’s side, glancing over his shoulder at the bank of monitors he sat in front of. "And does Felicity know you’re touching her babies?"
"They still haven’t come back from survival training," Diggle replied.
All traces of Roy’s playful remarks were wiped clean off his face as he took a seat beside his friend. “They didn’t come back last night?” he asked, his body turning rigid.
"Nope. I’m looking for them right now. Hopefully I can get a trace on Oliver’s tracker, but so far I’ve got nothing," Diggle said.
Roy heaved a deep sigh. “I hope they’re okay,” he replied. “Is there anything I can do?”
"Unless you know how to hack into a government database, there’s not much either one of us can do right now," Diggle answered, letting out a sigh of his own. He continued typing, searching, praying for a miracle as silence settled in the lair.
"Damn," the younger man muttered.
After an hour of fruitless searching, Diggle’s phone began to ring. He immediately picked it up without looking at the caller ID. For several moments he sat quietly and listened to the person on the other end then grabbed a pen and paper to scribble something down. “Yes, where?” he then asked, and made another note. “Great. Thanks Lyla. Love you. I’ll see you when I get back.” He shot up off the chair, grabbing his jacket before heading up the stairs, paper in hand.
"Hey, what’s going on?" Roy asked, trying to keep up.
"Lyla used her contacts at ARGUS and managed to find them. There’s a rescue helicopter waiting for me at the helipad on top of Starling General," Diggle said as he threw open the door and rushed into the abandoned club.
"Wait! I’m coming with you!" Roy called out as he tried to keep up.
"No, you’re staying here," commanded Diggle. "If you want, wait for us at the hospital, but you can’t come with. Someone’s gotta hold down the fort." He was gone before Roy could argue.
"I never get to do anything fun," he grumbled.
The rotor blades of a helicopter were what woke Oliver several hours later. For a moment he thought he was imaging the sound, just like he’d imagined Felicity’s screams the previous night. Looking up, he could see the large craft looming above their heads through the canopy. From it, a person in an orange vest began to descend on a rope.
"Felicity?" Oliver rasped as he shook her shoulder. "Felicity, wake up." But she wasn’t waking up. She lay motionless in his lap, only the quick rise and fall of her chest indicating that she was still alive.
For several moments Oliver sat frozen just staring at her. What the hell had happened while he was asleep? Panic rose in his chest as he brushed a few strands of hair away from her face to find her skin cold and clammy to the touch. “No,” he whispered just as the man in orange cleared the last few tree branches and hit the ground. “Open your eyes, Felicity. Please,” Oliver begged as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
"I have never been more glad to see you two!" came the deep, booming voice of their partner as he walked up to them. The smile that had been present on his face turned into a frown immediately upon seeing the state they were in.
Oliver didn’t have to say a word in order for Diggle to understand something was wrong with Felicity. It was written all over his face. The panicked look in his eyes told his partner they needed to hurry, and Diggle immediately hoisted the tiny woman into his arms, carrying her to where he’d landed. He signaled to the crew and a second rope was dropped from the helicopter, this one attached to a basket.
Within a matter of minutes, Felicity was secured and hoisted up, leaving only the two men on the ground. “Let’s go, Oliver!” Diggle shouted to him over the roar of the rotor blades.
But Oliver didn’t move. He couldn’t; not when he knew this debacle was his fault and that Felicity’s life hung in the balance because he thought survival training would be a good idea. The guilt ate him up on the inside, but when he felt Diggle’s hand grabbing him, dragging him to his feet, he stumbled and got up.
Oliver was hazy on what happened next. One moment he was on the ground and the next he was in the helicopter laying on a stretcher beside Felicity as the crew frantically worked to keep her alive. She looked so fragile and pale laying there, her expressive blue eyes shut. It made his heart clench in his chest to see her that way. Felicity wasn’t supposed to look like that. She was supposed to be lively and vibrant and constantly in motion. But she wasn’t. Instead, she was impossibly still, and it scared him.
Without hesitation, Oliver reached over, his hand seeking out hers until they brushed against one another. Intertwining their fingers, his thumb fell against the pulse point in her wrist to feel it beat weakly beneath. He needed that tiny bit of contact to keep him tethered to her, to still his racing heart.
No matter how hard he tried, Oliver couldn’t swallow back the guilt he felt for putting her in this position. It had gone from gnawing at him to full out eating him alive. The pain of having to watch the woman he loved go through what he’d put her though… Oliver couldn’t forgive himself.
"It’s not your fault, man," Diggle said from somewhere above him. He glanced up to find his friend sitting just a few inches from his head.
Oliver simply stared at him for a moment before his gaze turned back to Felicity. There was an oxygen mask now covering her mouth and nose, helping her breath. He swallowed back the sob threatening to escape his throat as he watched her until the EMT’s focused their attention on him. They maneuvered around the hand he still had tangled with hers, checking for injuries and finding the large rash from his reaction to the poison oak. Oliver was asked about how he got it and did his best to explain what happened. A few medications were administered through an IV placed in his arm, causing his eyes to droop before finally closing.

befitandchase:

Also available on ff.net and AO3.

——————————————————————————————————-

Part 5

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

A single chime from the bank of computers pulled Diggle out of his phone call. He turned sharply to find a new prompt on the screen. “Updates complete. Please restart.” The urge to do a fist pump hit him harder than ever, but he refrained, clicking OK to restart the system as he was asked. Felicity would probably kill him for touching her babies without her permission, but in this case, he had a feeling she’d be okay with it.

It took less than a minute to reboot the system and have it fully operational again. Diggle took a seat at the desk and began typing commands, pulling up topographical maps of the state park Oliver mentioned just before he left then zeroing in on possible campsites. Not knowing how to pull up current satellite images like Felicity did, he focused on getting a signal from the trackers she and Oliver had in their shoes.

The first search yielded no results. Diggle let out a frustrated grunt but he wasn’t deterred. He kept searching for his partners even as the door to the Foundry slammed and a set of footsteps echoed down the metal staircase.

"Where’s the boss man?" Roy asked when he appeared at Diggle’s side, glancing over his shoulder at the bank of monitors he sat in front of. "And does Felicity know you’re touching her babies?"

"They still haven’t come back from survival training," Diggle replied.

All traces of Roy’s playful remarks were wiped clean off his face as he took a seat beside his friend. “They didn’t come back last night?” he asked, his body turning rigid.

"Nope. I’m looking for them right now. Hopefully I can get a trace on Oliver’s tracker, but so far I’ve got nothing," Diggle said.

Roy heaved a deep sigh. “I hope they’re okay,” he replied. “Is there anything I can do?”

"Unless you know how to hack into a government database, there’s not much either one of us can do right now," Diggle answered, letting out a sigh of his own. He continued typing, searching, praying for a miracle as silence settled in the lair.

"Damn," the younger man muttered.

After an hour of fruitless searching, Diggle’s phone began to ring. He immediately picked it up without looking at the caller ID. For several moments he sat quietly and listened to the person on the other end then grabbed a pen and paper to scribble something down. “Yes, where?” he then asked, and made another note. “Great. Thanks Lyla. Love you. I’ll see you when I get back.” He shot up off the chair, grabbing his jacket before heading up the stairs, paper in hand.

"Hey, what’s going on?" Roy asked, trying to keep up.

"Lyla used her contacts at ARGUS and managed to find them. There’s a rescue helicopter waiting for me at the helipad on top of Starling General," Diggle said as he threw open the door and rushed into the abandoned club.

"Wait! I’m coming with you!" Roy called out as he tried to keep up.

"No, you’re staying here," commanded Diggle. "If you want, wait for us at the hospital, but you can’t come with. Someone’s gotta hold down the fort." He was gone before Roy could argue.

"I never get to do anything fun," he grumbled.


The rotor blades of a helicopter were what woke Oliver several hours later. For a moment he thought he was imaging the sound, just like he’d imagined Felicity’s screams the previous night. Looking up, he could see the large craft looming above their heads through the canopy. From it, a person in an orange vest began to descend on a rope.

"Felicity?" Oliver rasped as he shook her shoulder. "Felicity, wake up." But she wasn’t waking up. She lay motionless in his lap, only the quick rise and fall of her chest indicating that she was still alive.

For several moments Oliver sat frozen just staring at her. What the hell had happened while he was asleep? Panic rose in his chest as he brushed a few strands of hair away from her face to find her skin cold and clammy to the touch. “No,” he whispered just as the man in orange cleared the last few tree branches and hit the ground. “Open your eyes, Felicity. Please,” Oliver begged as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

"I have never been more glad to see you two!" came the deep, booming voice of their partner as he walked up to them. The smile that had been present on his face turned into a frown immediately upon seeing the state they were in.

Oliver didn’t have to say a word in order for Diggle to understand something was wrong with Felicity. It was written all over his face. The panicked look in his eyes told his partner they needed to hurry, and Diggle immediately hoisted the tiny woman into his arms, carrying her to where he’d landed. He signaled to the crew and a second rope was dropped from the helicopter, this one attached to a basket.

Within a matter of minutes, Felicity was secured and hoisted up, leaving only the two men on the ground. “Let’s go, Oliver!” Diggle shouted to him over the roar of the rotor blades.

But Oliver didn’t move. He couldn’t; not when he knew this debacle was his fault and that Felicity’s life hung in the balance because he thought survival training would be a good idea. The guilt ate him up on the inside, but when he felt Diggle’s hand grabbing him, dragging him to his feet, he stumbled and got up.

Oliver was hazy on what happened next. One moment he was on the ground and the next he was in the helicopter laying on a stretcher beside Felicity as the crew frantically worked to keep her alive. She looked so fragile and pale laying there, her expressive blue eyes shut. It made his heart clench in his chest to see her that way. Felicity wasn’t supposed to look like that. She was supposed to be lively and vibrant and constantly in motion. But she wasn’t. Instead, she was impossibly still, and it scared him.

Without hesitation, Oliver reached over, his hand seeking out hers until they brushed against one another. Intertwining their fingers, his thumb fell against the pulse point in her wrist to feel it beat weakly beneath. He needed that tiny bit of contact to keep him tethered to her, to still his racing heart.

No matter how hard he tried, Oliver couldn’t swallow back the guilt he felt for putting her in this position. It had gone from gnawing at him to full out eating him alive. The pain of having to watch the woman he loved go through what he’d put her though… Oliver couldn’t forgive himself.

"It’s not your fault, man," Diggle said from somewhere above him. He glanced up to find his friend sitting just a few inches from his head.

Oliver simply stared at him for a moment before his gaze turned back to Felicity. There was an oxygen mask now covering her mouth and nose, helping her breath. He swallowed back the sob threatening to escape his throat as he watched her until the EMT’s focused their attention on him. They maneuvered around the hand he still had tangled with hers, checking for injuries and finding the large rash from his reaction to the poison oak. Oliver was asked about how he got it and did his best to explain what happened. A few medications were administered through an IV placed in his arm, causing his eyes to droop before finally closing.

5herlockholme5:

thepainofthefeels:

5herlockholme5:

ha im a piece of trash

As someone who cares deeply about the environment, I am obligated to pick you up.
Is seven okay?

you smooth fucker

http://myherocomplex.tumblr.com/post/97227261671/so-im-approaching-the-end-of-the-prompt-list

myherocomplex:

So I’m approaching the end of the prompt list (FINALLY—WOOO) and I’m still musing over this idea for an expanded version of the Bratva!Oliver AU where he and Felicity have a marriage of convenience.

The big thing I’m stuck on is what kind of activities Oliver would allow the mafia to get up…

Yes please!

You Owe Me - bluesuedeshoes - Arrow (TV 2012) [Archive of Our Own]

myherocomplex:

I am so embarrassed I can’t even talk about it.

Summary:

Smoaking Billionaires—Recognizing how strung out Felicity is, Tommy offers her a night of no-strings-attached sex between friends. She just wasn’t expecting him to get Oliver involved, especially given that Oliver is the source of most of her tension.

Notes:

Fair warning: this is very easily the most pornographic thing I’ve ever written.

This is definitely Smoaking Billionaires, but it has heavy undertones of unestablished Olicity, and more of a friends-with-benefits vibe between Tommy & Felicity.

—EXCERPT—

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets and backed away, smirking at Felicity as he went.  She tried to glare at him but ended up smiling anyway.

As soon as he turned around, Tommy pulled his phone out of his suit coat and started sending a text.

Tommy: You owe me.

He waited, and the response from Oliver came almost immediately.

Oliver: Oh?

Tommy: oh yeah.

Oliver: Why’s that?  Make it quick—I’m supposed to be mingling, not texting

Tommy smirked.  Well, since he put it that way.

Tommy: I’m about to go have hot, sweaty friend-sex with Felicity.  The way I see it you have two choices.

Tommy:  1) Stay down here and sulk.

Tommy: 2) Come upstairs and join us.

vintagedisneyparks:

Disney Land 1987 by Justin Jaro on Flickr.

sugarbooty:

As an amateur furniture maker who is a lady, it has been really interesting to hear some of the comments men make when they find out that my wife and I made a lot of the pieces in our home. My favorite is when this super macho 6ft+ guy who is a friend of a friend was in our house. After seeming completely shocked that Claire and I had made our farmhouse dining room table by ourselves from scratch, he then proceeded to SIT ON THE EDGE OF IT, his feet off the floor, and CHAT WITH US like it was no big deal, almost like he was testing whether or not the table would fall apart, to prove to us that our handiwork wasn’t so impressive after all. Despite his gigantic muscle-bound body pressing weight on the very edge of the table, it did NOT fall apart, but I am ashamed to admit that I was so shocked at his behavior that I didn’t even say anything to him about it. My mouth hung open and I was in a dazed state for several minutes afterwards. HOW DARE HE!!!! Who the hell SITS on someone’s dining room table anyways?? Why are two women any less capable of making furniture than a man, or two men, or three men? I don’t think he realized how obtuse he was being, but I have never ever forgotten it, and I have been passively aggressively rude to him ever since (not proud of it, but I feel like I kind of got a glimpse of his true self when he acted that way, so whatever).
Men tend to come to our home, question several times whether or not I made the object in question (“you made this? YOU made this? And it’s NOT from Ikea?”) and then they look underneath the piece to see if they can find any flaws, any hints of a lie, a weak spot. Conversely, women in our home usually run their fingers down the piece, admiring it, not scrutinizing it, and they almost always say “I can’t believe you made this!”, which is very different from “are you SURE you made this?” I guess it’s because women are fully aware of what we can accomplish, even if it seems difficult or unlikely; they know the possibility is there. The overwhelming majority of men (not all of them- I have seen some men come into our home and offer much praise and genuine appreciation for what we have created without a hint of doubt as to our abilities) would more easily assume that you are lying to them than to believe that you accomplished something that they have not. It’s a fascinating glimpse into the way women’s power is perceived in our culture, and I don’t singlehandedly blame men for this kind of thinking- all of us can be, in some way or another, responsible for this kind of antiquated thinking.

Anyways, to celebrate the power of using our wits and skills and bodies, for those of fortunate enough to be able to do so, here is a list of some of my favorite builds.

From top to bottom:

1. Bathroom vanity (I did the tiling as well as the build)
2. Kitchen island on casters (my Dad worked on this with me when he came to visit last year and it was super fun, but he was too afraid to use the saw, which I totally respect- nothing to play around with if it makes you uncomfortable!)
3. Office bookshelf
4. Printer console w hairpin legs
5. Dining room table bench
6. Farmhouse table (this and the bench are the first pieces Claire and I ever made)
7. Upholstered chair (this armchair had been in Claire’s family for decades and was pretty old and warped so it was taken down to it’s springs and rebuilt from there- it was SO much work but SO fun)
8. coffee table with two built in cubbies and undershelf
9. upholstered MCM dining room chairs

There are a few more pieces, but these are the only pics I could easily find this morning. I think I’m going to make a sewing/cutting table on casters for the craft room (inspired by Heather at closetcasefiles) when the weather gets cooler and working in the garage wont be so uncomfortable!

http://dumplingsforone.tumblr.com/post/97123083395/felicity-stares-at-her-doctor-with-a-blank

dumplingsforone:

Felicity stares at her doctor with a blank expression she hasn’t
had since she took Algebraic Topology in college and almost
pukes on her. Catching herself, she turns to the garbage right
next to them and vomits — a symptom she’d previously attributed
to the flu that everyone had gotten a…

asker
broken condom during first (not mendatory) olicity sex n felicity is in panic attack.

outoftheclosetshipper:

Thanks for the prompt, Anon!

I used it to continue Grumpy Girlfriend. I thought two two prompts worked well together.

I will need to rate this a T, I think. There are mentions of sex and sexual acts and other related things (like Oliver’s junk) in this fic.

And also, because I’m so great at naming my stories, I’m going to call this one …. Wait for it…

Grumpy Girlfriend 2

Felicity hurried to the ladies’ room before Oliver could catch her. Hopefully, Diggle would slow him down by stopping Oliver from following her and urging her boyfriend to give her some space. She hopes.

As soon she gets to the lavish toilet — more like proper powder room, she thinks distractedly — she locks the door, and burst into tears.

"Argh, this is so not you, Felicity Megan Smoak!" she tells herself in the gilded mirror.

Yes, it was so out of character for her to be this way. Moody. Irritable. Prone to teary fits. Panicked. Desperate. Weepy.

Felicity Smoak was a ball of logical sunshine. Always has been, always will be. Forever.

Well, until the condom broke.

Read More

asker
Olicity + doing the dishes

sssssssim:

Oliver tried, once. He broke three plates and soaked the front of his shirt.

He brought a dishwasher the next day. Felicity rolled her eyes, saying she didn’t have a problem with doing the dishes.

'For forever?', Oliver grinned cheekily.

Felicity paused, eyes growing wide. She blinked, then scrunched up her nose. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’

asker
olicity and blanket hogging

sssssssim:

When he came back from the island, Oliver barely got used to sleeping in a bed. So he wasn’t the problem.

Felicity was. She was absolutely chaotic in bed. Not during sex, we’re not talking about that, but when she slept, she was all over the place.

She moved, a lot. Not just once Oliver woke up with a foot to the face. Or an elbow in the stomach. Most nights, Felicity’s pillow would end up on the floor, and the blanket would end up under her head.

Oliver didn’t really care. Because when he woke up in the morning, he’d usually pick Felicity up and arrange her around his body. She doesn’t wake up, but she sighs in her sleep and settles for a couple of more minutes of sleep, surrounded by Oliver’s body.

She doesn’t believe Oliver, when he tells her she’s a menace.

One night, though, when Felicity comes home, she just jumps on him, hugging him tightly, apologizing between kisses. She tells him that she taped the bed last night, all night, and she looked at the footage and saw the torture she put him through.

Oliver laughed. A lot. Then he asked her is she was willing to tape them again, as he pushed his hand under her skirt.