[fic] like a puzzle already solved [chapter two]
fic: like a puzzle already solved [chapter two]
fandom: Arrow (tv)
pairing: smiggle (felicity smoak/john diggle) felicity + laurel friendship, implied!sara + diggle friendship
setting: domesticity
word count:
a/n: written for indiesnopp who helped me through season two and shared my appreciation for smiggle domesticity, laughing at oliver, stanning laurel, and pretty much lusting over the entire female cast. because damn tho. protect felicity from oliver 2014
[[previous chapter]]
[so... you bought the milk, right?]In the morning, Felicity Smoak kissed her secret boyfriend goodbye, picked up bagels from her favorite shop, remembered to not kiss her secret boyfriend hello when he walked into work with her latte in his hand, dismantled a top secret government firewall, and confirmed her dinner plans for that evening. Oh, she also cleaned a couple of wounds. Just another day at the office.
John Diggle woke up, did exactly fifty-nine sit-ups and thirty-two pushups on the floor next to his secret girlfriend’s bed, turned on the coffee maker before waking her up with a kiss goodbye, went for a jog, picked up a cinnamon dolce latte and a black coffee no room, drove to work, felt very manly prancing around the office without a shirt on for a few hours, pretended not to notice that secret girlfriend did not seem to notice his shirtlessness, and then saves the world for a few hours before hitting the bar with his coworker.
Dinner is nice and refreshing, Laurel Lance isn’t the first person Felicity would have chosen for a friend, but they both like wine and wearing heels and not talking about bullet wounds, so an evening out now and then with someone who saves the world like a normal person in a business suit and with armfuls of files instead of assault weapons is a pretty good change of pace. Conversation is stilted only until the first drink comes and then it feels like what Felicity thinks college must have been like for her extremely peppy roommate. As she walks to her car, she silently thanks Sara for coming into the office and forcing her to start having lunch-now-dinner dates with her nosy sister. A girl can always use a few more girlfriends.
She’s on the couch in that old ratty t-shirt that hangs off her shoulder and probably a bit tipsy and so’s he so that’s actually kind of perfect and his jacket is nearly on the floor when she angles her head back at him so he’s looking at her upside down when she asks where the milk is.
Because they agreed last night in the shower or while brushing their teeth that he would remember to go pick up some milk.
And also black licorice. Because tonight is Psych night. Even if it’s technically closer to one in the morning.
And he’s contemplating dragging her along with him, pulling her up by the arm and tossing her into his truck and watching her toddle down the grocery store aisles while he follows and slips food she’ll never eat into the cart that he’s pushing with the one rattling wheel because he always ends up with the one with that wheel that wants to perpetually turn left and be damned if anyone sees them with her wearing his old college football shirt and him not hiding anything anymore.
Because the best part about buying milk as a couple is standing in front of the glass doors with her arm through yours talking about the dinner date she had with that friend you’ve never particularly liked.
And he can almost see her thinking the exact same thing, glasses slipping up her forehead and hair spilling out over the arm of the couch.
When her phone lights up on the coffee table.
Four hours, five fresh bruises, two bad puns, and one bad guy behind bars later, he slips the almond milk she likes into the fridge and the shaving cream he likes into the cupboard under the bathroom sink and settles onto the couch to wait for her to return from the office and pretends not to notice the new aches and pains in his worn out body.
Four hours and twenty minutes, two hacked phones, three cups of coffee, and one successful night at the office later, she crashes into her apartment holding a bag with the almond milk she likes and the shaving cream he uses and some fancy black licorice because they deserve fancy and finds him asleep on the couch, an episode of Psych queued up on the tv and a box of Good & Plenty’s sitting on the coffee table.
She wakes him up with an 'accidental' slam of the door and they laugh about the milk and curl up on the couch to fall asleep together.
It’s the one thing they have that’s all theirs.
I really want a Felicity + Laurel icon for my Arrow obsession. Does anyone have Arrow icon resources or should I just make some myself? ((Second question: who would be interested in me making Arrow-LADIES icons?))
Also - I'm getting a weird surplus of hits on a couple of my fics over on ao3 and I feel like someone must have recced me or something? Does anyone else investigate stuff like this or do you just shrug it off and mentally thank the mysterious internet stranger?
fandom: Arrow (tv)
pairing: smiggle (felicity smoak/john diggle) felicity + laurel friendship, implied!sara + diggle friendship
setting: domesticity
word count:
a/n: written for indiesnopp who helped me through season two and shared my appreciation for smiggle domesticity, laughing at oliver, stanning laurel, and pretty much lusting over the entire female cast. because damn tho. protect felicity from oliver 2014
[[previous chapter]]
[so... you bought the milk, right?]In the morning, Felicity Smoak kissed her secret boyfriend goodbye, picked up bagels from her favorite shop, remembered to not kiss her secret boyfriend hello when he walked into work with her latte in his hand, dismantled a top secret government firewall, and confirmed her dinner plans for that evening. Oh, she also cleaned a couple of wounds. Just another day at the office.
John Diggle woke up, did exactly fifty-nine sit-ups and thirty-two pushups on the floor next to his secret girlfriend’s bed, turned on the coffee maker before waking her up with a kiss goodbye, went for a jog, picked up a cinnamon dolce latte and a black coffee no room, drove to work, felt very manly prancing around the office without a shirt on for a few hours, pretended not to notice that secret girlfriend did not seem to notice his shirtlessness, and then saves the world for a few hours before hitting the bar with his coworker.
Dinner is nice and refreshing, Laurel Lance isn’t the first person Felicity would have chosen for a friend, but they both like wine and wearing heels and not talking about bullet wounds, so an evening out now and then with someone who saves the world like a normal person in a business suit and with armfuls of files instead of assault weapons is a pretty good change of pace. Conversation is stilted only until the first drink comes and then it feels like what Felicity thinks college must have been like for her extremely peppy roommate. As she walks to her car, she silently thanks Sara for coming into the office and forcing her to start having lunch-now-dinner dates with her nosy sister. A girl can always use a few more girlfriends.
She’s on the couch in that old ratty t-shirt that hangs off her shoulder and probably a bit tipsy and so’s he so that’s actually kind of perfect and his jacket is nearly on the floor when she angles her head back at him so he’s looking at her upside down when she asks where the milk is.
Because they agreed last night in the shower or while brushing their teeth that he would remember to go pick up some milk.
And also black licorice. Because tonight is Psych night. Even if it’s technically closer to one in the morning.
And he’s contemplating dragging her along with him, pulling her up by the arm and tossing her into his truck and watching her toddle down the grocery store aisles while he follows and slips food she’ll never eat into the cart that he’s pushing with the one rattling wheel because he always ends up with the one with that wheel that wants to perpetually turn left and be damned if anyone sees them with her wearing his old college football shirt and him not hiding anything anymore.
Because the best part about buying milk as a couple is standing in front of the glass doors with her arm through yours talking about the dinner date she had with that friend you’ve never particularly liked.
And he can almost see her thinking the exact same thing, glasses slipping up her forehead and hair spilling out over the arm of the couch.
When her phone lights up on the coffee table.
Four hours, five fresh bruises, two bad puns, and one bad guy behind bars later, he slips the almond milk she likes into the fridge and the shaving cream he likes into the cupboard under the bathroom sink and settles onto the couch to wait for her to return from the office and pretends not to notice the new aches and pains in his worn out body.
Four hours and twenty minutes, two hacked phones, three cups of coffee, and one successful night at the office later, she crashes into her apartment holding a bag with the almond milk she likes and the shaving cream he uses and some fancy black licorice because they deserve fancy and finds him asleep on the couch, an episode of Psych queued up on the tv and a box of Good & Plenty’s sitting on the coffee table.
She wakes him up with an 'accidental' slam of the door and they laugh about the milk and curl up on the couch to fall asleep together.
It’s the one thing they have that’s all theirs.
I really want a Felicity + Laurel icon for my Arrow obsession. Does anyone have Arrow icon resources or should I just make some myself? ((Second question: who would be interested in me making Arrow-LADIES icons?))
Also - I'm getting a weird surplus of hits on a couple of my fics over on ao3 and I feel like someone must have recced me or something? Does anyone else investigate stuff like this or do you just shrug it off and mentally thank the mysterious internet stranger?