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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago

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Acting Your Age (Part 4)

Summary: When Jensen returns from a business trip, he and the reader have a few more dates and a few sleepovers as their relationship continues to develop...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 7,000ish

Warnings: language, age gap, implied smut

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You hummed when you plopped down in your bed that night after your shower, smiling to yourself.

You’d spent the afternoon in the pool and had some barbecue for dinner, Jensen like a puppy dog and always smiling whenever you saw him. He had some paperwork to catch up on and eventually headed home though, letting you get in some playtime with the kids.

“Someone looks happy,” said Gen, stepping into your room that night.

“Mhm,” you said, staring up at the ceiling.

“Thinking about lover boy?” she teased as she walked in and lay on the other side of your bed.

“Sorta. I don’t know. I had fun today,” you said, closing your eyes. “I have a voicemail from my ex.”

“Really? What’s that about?” she asked.

“He saw my picture online. Told me not only is he younger than Jensen, by like two years, but, he also has way more money and is way more attractive. He wants me to go on a trip to Greece with him so we can ‘reconnect’ on his yacht,” you said. “He was a stock broker.”

“Oh boy. Someone realizes what they lost out on,” she said.

“When we were alone, he was great. But he was embarrassed of me, even when we went out to dinner. He was a lot more outgoing than Jensen but Jensen is the guy bragging that his girlfriend broke the woman’s record on hole six this morning at lunch to the waiter. He’s a quieter guy but he’s not embarrassed of me, you know?”

“Honey, Jensen is head over heels. He’s also not a douchebag so I don’t think you have to worry about that. I think he’s more concerned about trying to make sure you’re able to keep some of your privacy. He’s no big movie star but he gets attention,” she said.

“I don’t care,” you said.

“Good. You’re gonna need that. Trust me,” she said. “The internet can be a cruel place.”

“He’s not gonna be like, showing me off at an award show or anything. He doesn’t need to worry about that crap,” you said.

“Boys are weird,” she said. You laughed and nodded, looking over at her.

“What’s your honest opinion on me and Jensen? You’re my sister in law. You’ve always been the one keeping an eye out for me. What do you really think?” you asked.

“I think you should be with someone that respects you, is your best friend and that you can see spending the rest of your life with. That’s it,” she said.

“Gen. Come on. If I brought home a guy like Jensen but you didn’t know him,” you said.

“Exactly what I said. It’s not rocket science,” she said. “Jensen’s good. You’re under his skin. Enjoy it.”

“I am,” you said. “You wouldn’t happen to know any architects or interior designers looking to hire in town, do you?”

“I may be able to hook you up. A friend of ours just bought a house and they’re looking to redecorate. I know you’re very good,” she said.

“Independent contractor? I’ve never done that before,” you said.

“Maybe you could while you look for a place. I’m sure it’s not a ton of hours,” she said.

“Maybe. Taking Jensen out to dinner last night was a tad expensive. It was great but my funds are dwindling,” you said.

“He didn’t even go Dutch?” she asked as she sat up.

“He tried to pay but I caught the waiter and gave him my card instead. Jensen was a little mad over that I think,” you said. “But I want to be able to take him out on dates too, you know?”

“Let him pay next time, he’s got the money,” she laughed. “Take him hiking around Austin sometime and then do food trucks. Super cheap date and it’s fun.”

“Sometime,” you said, closing your eyes again.

“Get some sleep. You’re exhausted from playing all day,” she said as she sat up, pulling your covers out from under you.

“Alright, mom,” you said, turning into your pillows with a laugh. “Night Gen.”

“Night,” she said, closing your door part way.

“She’s asleep already?” you heard Jared whisper outside the door.

“What?” you called, not bothering to open your eyes.

“I was wondering if you guys wanted some ice cream and to watch a movie but-“

“There’s always time for ice cream,” you said as you sat up with a smile.

You woke up on the couch the next morning, Odette poking your cheek until you opened your eyes.

“Hi Aunt Y/N!” she said loudly, your body letting out a large groan as you heard Jared laugh from the kitchen. “Daddy made pancakes.”

“Awesome,” you said, her little hand peeling your eyes open. “Jared.”

“That’s not nice, munchkin,” he said. “Why don’t you and your brothers get your Aunt some orange juice.”

“I got it,” you said, standing up wearily and taking a plate when it was shoved in your hands. You took a seat at the table between the boys, digging in with a hum.

“Dad, are Aunt Y/N and Uncle Jensen gonna get married?” asked Tom. You nearly choked on the food in your mouth, Jared whacking your back as he went past.

“They’ve been dating a whopping five days. Let’s hold off on the wedding bells,” he said and setting down some orange juice. “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, I am not getting married anytime soon,” you said.

“I think you should,” said Tom. “Before you’re too old.”

“How old do you think I am?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“How old is dad?” asked Gen as she cut into her food.

“37!” said Shep.

“Yup. Y/N is about ten and a half years younger so she’s…” she trailed off.

“Two...something,” he said.

“Twenty six,” you said.

“Daddy, why you so old?” asked Odette.

“Mom’s older than me!” he said.

“I live with five children,” she sighed.

“I’m like a child half time,” you said, Gen giving you a smile. “So what are you guys up to today?”

“School,” said the boys.

“Swimmies!” said Odette.

“Sounds fun,” you said. “Mom and dad gonna swim with you?”

“Mommy. Daddy’s playing at Uncle ‘ensen house,” she said.

“I’m gonna help him film his audition tape,” said Jared. “Your unemployed ass is welcome to join.”

“I’m actually going to take a me day, maybe talk to those friends of yours with the new house,” you said.

“Nice,” he said. “I’m running to the grocery store after so write down what you want on the list.”

“Sure thing,” you said, taking another bite of food when the doorbell rang.

“I wonder who that could be,” he said with a smile, nodding for you to get it. You stood and walked to the door, knowing they must have expected someone if they’d left the gate open. You tried to fix your bedhead as you opened it, giggling as you saw the ticket on the ground with a sticky note attached to it.

Something unexpected popped up at the brewery, potential opportunity so I will unfortunately be flying out of town this afternoon. I’ll be gone until Sunday night but there’s a concert downtown if you’re interested. Text me whatever you decide. I’ll meet you there, kiddo.

“He’s adorable,” you said, laughing as you grabbed the ticket and note, walking back inside and setting it on the counter. “Most guys would just text.”

“He’s old,” said Jared. “Fashioned.”

“He’s sweet,” you said. “And dorky.”

“Are you blushing?” he teased. You shook your head as you sat down.

“Your face is all red Aunt Y/N,” said Tom.

“Eat your breakfast kid,” you said, ruffling his hair with a smile.

Sunday Night

You felt a tap on your shoulder, spinning around to find a smiling Jensen behind you.

“Hey, kiddo,” he chuckled.

“Hey! How’d it go?” you asked, giving him a hug, getting a peck on the lips quickly from him.

“Eh,” he shrugged. “It’s a good opportunity but I don’t have the manpower for it, namely me. I’d probably have to give up acting for good and that’s not something I want.”

“Well that’s too bad. Can’t you hire someone to help?” you asked.

“See,” he said, grabbing your hand as you headed into where the outdoor concert was going to be playing soon. “There’s this farmhouse on the land the brewery is on. It’s a few hundred feet away. It’s a gorgeous building. A bit run down but the bones are good. It was always sort of this side idea to make that into something. Restaurant. Bed and breakfast. Fancy tasting room. Something cool. I settled with the bed and breakfast since I thought that’s kind of a little of the restaurant and there could be a tasting room too or something. But I don’t think I can run two businesses and then act on top of it, you know?”

“Do you want to do it?” you asked.

“Yes. The brewery is pretty self-sufficient now but there was so much aggravation getting it set up and trying to work at the same time. I don’t want to go through all that again,” he said.

“Don’t you have more free time now?” you asked.

“It was just a really sucky time in my life I’d rather not go through again,” he said.

“Well I think if you really want it, you should do it,” you said. “Free manual labor, right here.”

“My last girlfriend broke up with me because of that whole incident so I’m not playing with that fire,” he said, smirking at you.

“Well now you totally got to do it,” you said. “I’ll help if I can. I’m an independent interior designer now so I make my own schedule.”

“Really? That’s awesome. Being your own boss is the best,” he said.

“True. Kind of scary though,” you said. “We’ll see how it goes. But you should go for it.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, wandering the two of you over towards a beer tent, ordering two.

“Well the internet thinks I’m a slut over one innocent picture so if I can handle that, I can handle a little overworked Jensen,” you said. He stared at you, taking the beers and handing you one before you took a sip. “Yeah, I looked. Fuck ‘em.”

“You really shouldn’t get in the habit of doing that. It’s a nasty rabbit hole to go down,” he said.

“I found it amusing,” you said, grabbing hold of his hand again. “Plus I needed to. So you fix up that farmhouse and don’t worry about this, alright? I like spending time with you but I don’t need constant attention. I’m not Jared after all.”

He chuckled and nodded, swaying your hands as you walked.

“I hope you like rock music,” he said. “Please say you like rock music or else this is going to be a very long night.”

“I’m like, totally only into Top 40,” you said, giving him your best bitchface.

“Something tells me that’s not the truth,” he said with a smile. “What about country?”

“Eh, some country. Depends on how much I’ve had to drink honestly,” you said. “I like most music.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’ve never heard these guys before. I figured it beat dinner in a restaurant again.”

“It’s not that late. Did you not want to grab a bite after this?” you asked.

“Oh, I do. But something...easy,” he said. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Wow,” you said, carrying your fast food in one hand as you followed Jensen into his house a few hours later. “Wow.”

“It’s not that nice,” he said, showing you where to put your shoes. You walked into the kitchen and set the bag down on the counter, Jensen going to the fridge and pulling out a few beers, some of his brewery’s brand from the looks of it. He set his bag down on the counter opposite you and sat up on it, letting his feet dangle off the edge while you started to pull out food.

“You got to show me around your house after we eat. It’s so...interesting,” you said, glancing at the ceiling above you. “Nice beam work.”

“I bet you tell that to all the boys,” he said, earning a laugh from you. “It’s alright. I let some designer do everything once the house was finished being remodeled.”

“It’s nice. Not exactly what I would have thought your style would be. There’s definitely some unique things,” you said.

“I was had a girlfriend when the house was being updated. She picked out some of those things,” he said. “The girly stuff.”

“In the designer world we like to say feminine,” you said, taking a bite of your taco. “Same chick that didn’t like you working so much?”

“Different one. We were gonna live together which is why she was helping. That didn’t work out,” he said. “Obviously.”

“It’s still a very lovely house,” you said.

“Could I hire you? To re do some of that stuff?” he asked.

“Sure. We could work out some kind of deal I’m sure,” you said. He nodded and started to eat, swaying his feet again like a kid would.

“You probably think I move fast in a relationship huh,” he said.

“No. All you said was you almost lived with a girl. I’ve lived with a guy before. You’re a whole lot older, I sort of expect you’d have had more relationships,” you said.

“I think I thought us working on this house together would fix the stuff that was wrong, you know? I don’t know how I ever thought that was a good idea,” he said.

“Going through something hard teaches you more about a person than everything being easy breezy,” you said.

“Kinda like you and your brother?” he asked.

“You didn’t have to drive down there to fix that last week you know,” you said.

“I’ll take the not easy breezy stuff too,” he said, giving you a smile.

“That wasn’t us though. That was something…” you said.

“If I’ve learned anything from my married friends, it’s that a relationship is picking a partner that doesn’t just do cute stuff. They have your back when shit happens. It’s just finding someone that you want to go through the highs and lows with. Never found anyone yet who wants to stick around for a low is all,” he said.

“You got someone to take care of you when that happens?” you asked.

“Yeah. Sorry, this going into a much deeper conversation than I intended,” he said.

“So?” you said. “The lows don’t scare me.”

“Not sure much does, kiddo,” he chuckled.

“I’m serious,” you said.

“Well that girl was the last time I dated. A few years ago now,” he said.

“I should set her up with my ex,” you said.

“The British douche?” he asked.

“He called me last week. More than once. I politely told him where to shove it,” you said.

“That’s my girl,” he said. “Why’s he talking to you again anyways?”

“Oh, I think he’s jealous of you. I told him maybe he should try being a bit more respectful for like my new boyfriend if he wants a girl to stick around,” you said.

“Maybe I should set this guy with her,” he chuckled. “She only ever wanted money after a certain point anyways.”

“Peter was an idiot that wasn’t comfortable with our age difference is all,” you said.

“I thought he made you feel stupid though,” he said.

“Oh yeah. Never mind, throw him to the wolves,” you said.

“Remind me to never break up with you,” he said as he ate.

“I’m not letting you go so easily,” you said.

“Good,” he said with a laugh. “Not to mention your willingness to eat fast food at one in the morning makes you far more attractive than anyone I’ve ever dated.”

“I’m a cheap date,” you smiled.

“You know last week, you paid for dinner at the restaurant. That was a pretty pricey meal,” he said.

“I can afford it,” you said. “You’re just gonna be getting happy meals for the next six months but I can afford it.”

“Let me pay next time,” he said.

“Alright,” you said. “But I get to pay the time after that.”

“Y/N.”

“Jensen.”

“Well since we’re not gonna be able to agree on this, let’s settle it with a bet,” he said.

“What kind of bet,” you asked.

“Arm wrestling,” he said.

“That’s so not fair,” you said.

“I mean, I know you’re probably going to win but…” he said, biting his bottom lip. “Oh, that’s adorable. Your little cheeks are red but you’re kinda grumpy too.”

“Such a boy,” you groaned. “Fine. You win. But...nice dinners are not the norm, agreed?”

“Deal,” he said. “So I can totally get like, the cheeseburger happy meal though right?”

“Wow,” you said, shaking your head as he laughed. “Yeah, we can go all out on that.”

“Sweet,” he said, taking another bite when the lights flickered. You looked overhead, watching it happen a few more times before they shut off and the house was dark. You heard a hum and the refrigerator kicked back on. “At least the generator works. Only keeps the kitchen and bedroom going though.”

“It’s not even storming,” you said, a loud boom of thunder overhead. You finished the rest of your food and cleaned up, Jensen looking out the front windows at the pouring rain.

“I’m sure it’ll clear up in a minute,” he said. You grabbed your phone and checked the radar, the storm slow moving and another one right behind it.

“It’s like solid red for a few good hours,” you said, a big crack of lightning appearing, Jensen stepping back from the windows. He turned to you in the dimly lit kitchen, a question on his face. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“I can sleep in the guest room, you take my bed. The power works in there,” he said.

“We could share,” you said. “Just sleep.”

“Yeah,” he said. “As long as you’re comfortable with that.”

“Yeah,” you said. He nodded and you followed him down a short hall, Jensen pointing to a dark space.

“Bathroom. Other side is the closet,” he said, stepping through the open door into a large master bedroom. “Comfy bed.”

“Pretty vaulted ceiling,” you said.

“Always looking at the ceiling,” he chuckled. He ducked into his closet, returning after a moment in just a t shirt and his boxer briefs. You kept your gaze up, spotting the shirt and boxers in his arms. “I don’t know if you wanted something to sleep in.”

“Thanks,” you said, stepping past him and going into his closet. “Oh my God. Can I have your closet?”

“It’s a closet,” he laughed.

“It’s huge! There’s so much space you’re not using,” you said, spotting all the clothes in piles on the floor. “Ah, so he’s not Mr. Perfect. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to hang up your clothes?”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed from the bedroom. You changed out of your jeans and shirt, taking off your bra after a moment. You carried your clothes out to the room and set them down on the dresser, Jensen sitting on the edge of the bed. He stared for a moment and ducked his eyes away. “Clothes fit?”

“Mhm,” you said, walking over to the other side of the bed. You sat down and threw back the covers, flinching when there was a loud boom.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Don’t really like storms at night,” you said. “Normally not a problem cause I’m sleeping.”

“S’okay,” he said. You nodded and lay down, flinching again when the storm was louder. He got under the covers and you felt him move closer, turning on his side and putting an arm over your waist. You turned your head towards him, swallowing hard when the house shook. He smiled and nudged a little closer. “You’re alright, kiddo.”

“Forgot about stupid Texas storms,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut as the storm got louder and louder.

“Come here,” he said, turning you towards him. You didn’t mean to but you grabbed onto the front of his shirt, Jensen moving his arm to wrap around your back. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” you said, moving away when he turned you back.

“Really. It’s okay,” he said. You gave him a small nod before you sighed and closed your eyes, resting your head on his chest. “You’re okay, honey. I promise.”

You blinked open your eyes wearily, catching Jensen rolling over in bed, his arms flailing about before one landed on you. He immediately pulled you into his chest, giving you a big morning cuddle and jamming his face into your back. You giggled when he started to breath softly again, Jensen stirring this time, whole body tensing before his arms were off of you.

“Good morning,” you said, looking back over your shoulder.

“Morning,” he said, rolling away some. You moved to where he’d been, spreading out and smiling at him. “Oh, you don’t get the whole bed young lady.”

“Comfy bed,” you said, turning on your side, tucking your arms under the covers.

“You look so pretty,” he said quietly. You leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose.

“You’re a cuddler,” you said. He groaned and turned away, your hands shooting out to grab him and move him back. “Oh no. Jensen Ackles is a cuddler and you are not denying it.”

“You wouldn’t dare tell,” he said.

“What do I get in return for my silence?” you asked. He smirked and wrapped his arms around you. “I will accept being paid off in cuddles.”

“Yes, yes you will,” he said.

“I like cuddles too,” you said. He smiled and you moved your leg, a strange noise coming from him as he shifted away. “Sorry.”

“S’okay. No one ever tells you morning wood keeps happening no matter how old you are,” he said as he fixed himself.

“Here I thought it was me,” you said.

“That part of me certainly likes you very much,” he said, quickly clearing his throat. “Sorry. I make it sound like…”

“Maybe tonight,” you said with a smile. “If you’re in the mood.”

“I think I could be,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear. “We’ll see. For now though, all I want to do is make you some breakfast. Thankfully the power is back on.”

“How about you cook and I’ll set the places?” you asked.

“Deal,” he said, moving out of the bed. You followed after him, Jensen chuckling when he looked at you in daylight for the first time. “You look like a grumpy toddler.”

“Joke’s on you, Ackles. Too big shirts are my go to pajamas,” you said.

“I like it,” he said, starting to pad around the kitchen as you discovered where he kept the plates. Less than ten minutes later you had a plate of scrambled eggs in front of you, Jensen sitting two seats down at the counter, back against the pillar in the kitchen, legs spread out over the middle stool.

“Someone’s comfortable,” you said.

“Just enjoying the view,” he said, scooping some eggs into his mouth. “So you’re not a fan of storms, huh?”

You blushed and stared at your plate, eating quietly for a few moments.

“I don’t like spiders. Dolls are super creepy to me too,” he said.

“Yeah, not a fan of storms, at night,” you said, poking at your food.

“Well next time there’s one and I’m not around, give me a call,” he said. You glanced over, Jensen taking a bite off his fork.

“You don’t think it’s childish?”

“No. I wish maybe you weren’t so scared but it’s not childish,” he said.

“When I was in college, I rushed for a sorority. The last hazing thing was pledges had to stay in this old abandoned house off campus. It ended up storming that night. They were going to prank us but we didn’t realize, some guy was squatting there. He was pretty...terrifying. We thought it was part of a prank but it wasn’t and he got violent super quick. Safe to say, I didn’t join,” you said.

“Fuck. I thought guys were bad. You were alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen staring at you. “I got a little beat up. I was okay. Far more damage has been done wrestling with my brothers.”

“Still. I get why you don’t like stormy nights,” he said.

“It’s silly,” you said.

“You know what I say to Jared when he says that? Tough shit. It’s bothering you so it’s not silly or stupid so let’s try and take care of it,” he said.

“Yeah but how do I take care of something like that?” you asked.

“Make it into something good. I used to be so afraid of public speaking and now I tell myself it’s okay and it works. It took awhile but it does,” he said. “So next time there’s a storm, turn it into something good.”

“I suppose,” you said, stretching in your seat.

“So you were almost a sorority girl,” he said with a smirk.

“Shut up, pretty boy,” you laughed.

“I am pretty, aren’t I?” he teased.

“You have dried drool on your cheek,” you said. “Hot stuff.”

“You’re one to talk,” he giggled.

“You’re saying this is not the epitome of hotness? Messy hair and a tired face?” you laughed.

“We have very different definitions of how you look,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“I think I’m going to get dressed,” you said, sliding off your seat. “You know you aren’t getting this shirt back, right?”

“I figured as much,” he chuckled. You headed into his bedroom, changing in his bathroom and tucking his shirt under your arm. After grabbing your purse, he walked you to his door, carrying a cup of coffee now. “I’ll see you tonight, kiddo.”

“Yes you will,” you said, giving him a short kiss. “Hey, since you made me breakfast, can I cook you dinner tonight?”

“Dinner? It has been a long time since someone has made me dinner,” he said.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“I’m easy going,” he said.

“You like meat?” you asked.

“I love it,” he said.

“I’ll pick something out today. Drop by my place say seven?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

You had just finished pouring the pasta in the pot when the doorbell rang that night. You looked down, cursing yourself for still being in a pair of leggings and your hair up in a messy bun. You jogged to the front door, opening it with a smile.

“Hi,” said Jensen, plucking a flower out from behind his back.

“Well thank you,�� you said, Jensen stepping inside as you looked up after him.

“I don’t know what it is. Thought it looked pretty is all,” he said. “Reminded me of someone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, Jensen following you back to the kitchen. “Apparently tomorrow is some teacher workshop day at school so Jared and Gen packed up the kids and shipped them off to our parents house so they could have a night alone.”

“Nice. Sounds like we got the place to ourselves then,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, we do,” you said. “You mind watching the stove while I put on something presentable?”

“Alright. I mean, I’m not in a tux over here or anything,” he said. “I am a very big fan of leggings.”

“I bet you are,” you said, pausing before you decided to leave on what you were wearing. “So what’s your poison?”

“Wine?” he asked.

“Preference?” you asked.

“I’m good with anything,” he said. You walked around to the far side of the kitchen and picked up the bottle you’d gotten earlier, popping out the cork and setting it near a pair of glasses on the counter.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, sliding into the kitchen.

“No, no. I’m making you dinner. You just sit there and look pretty,” you teased.

“Can do,” he said, grabbing the bottle and pouring you each a glass. “So are you a cook?”

“Uh, not really so if this goes horribly, I do have the number of a restaurant,” you said.

“You could honestly make me some kraft mac and cheese and I’d be happy,” he said. “Like I said earlier, it’s been a long time since someone cooked for me that wasn’t my parents.”

“Well you deserve to be taken care of too, hm?” you said, giving him a smile as you took a sip of your wine.

“Yeah. Yeah, I could do with some of that I guess,” he said.

“How about after dinner, I give you the world’s best foot massage,” you said.

“I’d say I could get used to this.”

“Dinner was so good,” said Jensen again as you finished cleaning up. “You’re a way better chef than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m a better baker than chef,” you said.

“I bet you’re an amazing baker then,” he said. “You gotta let me taste test next time you make something. Quality control.”

“I’ll be sure to enlist your services,” you said, heading into the family room, Jensen taking a seat on the couch. “Alright. You kick back your feet and I will be back in just a second.”

You dashed upstairs as he peeled off his socks, returning with a bottle of cream and a small towel.

“Oh. I see I’m dealing with a professional here,” he teased.

“Just get comfy, Ackles,” you said, Jensen adjusting a pillow behind his back as he turned sideways. You rested his feet in your lap on the towel, squirting some cream on your palms before rubbing them together. You started at the top of the arch of his foot, Jensen immediately closing his eyes.

“Fuck. That feels awesome,” he said, melting back into the couch. “How’d you get so good at this?”

“Dated a masseuse once. Ditched the guy but kept the incredible massage skills,” you said, rubbing your thumb into the skin. “For a guy, your feet are pretty clean to be honest.”

“Don’t laugh but my sister gave me some of those lotion socks for Christmas one year cause my feet always got crackly. I fucking love those things,” he said.

“Boys are allowed to be pampered too,” you said, moving to the other foot, Jensen letting out a large sigh.

“Remind me to yell at Jared for not introducing us sooner,” he laughed.

“To be fair, probably better that we waited,” you said. “It let me figure out what I like.”

“What do you like?” he asked, smiling lazily from the other end of the couch.

“You.”

“Cute,” he said. “I could say the same about you.”

“Alright then cutie,” you said, sliding his feet off your lap. “Once I wash this stuff off, we can watch a movie.”

You were only gone a few minutes, Jensen already flipping through the TV when you returned. You let him pick, some cheesy 80’s horror movie from the looks of it, and you sat down on the other end of the couch. He hummed and moved his feet to the coffee table, giving you a quick glance. You slid over next to him, tucking your legs under you, his arm going to the back of the couch.

“I don’t even get the yawn and stretch?” you laughed.

“I ain’t tired,” he said, resting his arm over your shoulders. You turned your head, his gaze on you.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked. His eyes moved around your face, his hand on your shoulders going to the back of your head as he leaned in.

You met him halfway, the kiss already more heated and playful than you’d ever received from him. His free hand went to the small of your back, pulling you into his lap, a tiny smile on his face before you took the chance to invade his mouth. You went back and forth, both of you trying to control it until you needed air and broke off, his hot breath hitting your face.

You took the chance and pushed him back on the couch until you were leaning over him, Jensen going all kinds of gooey.

“You like that, don’t you,” you said, brushing your lips over his ear.

“Normally no,” he said with a quick laugh.

“Gonna make an exception for me,” you said.

“You are something el-” he said, groaning when you cut him off with another kiss. You used one hand to hold yourself up, the other shooting to his hair, running through the strands and messing the short spiky strands up.

He bit at your bottom lip, the two of you going back and forth again until you fell into a harsh but smooth rhythm, his hand rubbing circles against the small patch of skin on your lower back. He pressed his fingertips into the flesh, a shiver running through you.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, nipping at your jaw while you caught your breath. He moved his lips, finding that one little spot that turned you into jelly and he sucked, a keening whine escaping you. He pulled his mouth away, staring up at you with dark green eyes. You blushed, a dark smirk spreading over his lips. He moved his mouth again, finding the spot and sucking. Hard.

“Jensen,” you whimpered, already knowing you were going to be sporting a hickey. You only seemed to encourage him, your head dropping as he pulled back with a chuckle you felt through his chest.

“That’s so fucking hot,” he said. You raised your head, staring him down.

“You’re turn,” you said, ducking your head down before he could even blink. A minute later he had the beginnings of a mark on his neck appearing, Jensen bit his bottom lip hard, making the thing even more swollen and red than it was. “Was that a moan I heard?”

“Groan,” he said, narrowing his eyes, grabbing your head and kissing you. His hands started to move though and you felt them on your hips, your breath catching in your throat when he started to tickle your thigh. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what,” you said, resting your forehead against his, your noses jammed against each other.

“You want me to do this, right?” he asked.

“Touch me? Hell yeah, Ackles,” you said.

“You on anything?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m good.”

“Good,” he said, sliding a hand in front of you, a finger tracing over the top of your leggings against your stomach. He peeled back the elastic and slid his warm hand underneath, staring up at you as he moved oh so slowly. “You have no idea how hot you are, do you.”

“Jensen,” you said, kissing him as he reached your underwear, his fingers curling under it. You sucked in a breath, arching into his hand.

Just as the front door opened in perfect view of where you were on the couch.

“What the fuck!” you heard Jared shout as you immediately shot up, Jensen yanking his hand away as you went to the other end of the couch. He walked in the room, staring at the both of you. “What the fuck!”

“Movie,” you said, Jensen nodding, not making eye contact.

“Were you just...in my family room!” he said. “No sex in the family room!”

“It wasn’t…” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “You said you’d be gone until the morning.”

“I left my phone here and-”

“He has a hickey,” said Jensen, pointing at Jared’s neck, turning to you. “He can’t blame us for doing exactly what he was.”

“You better not be doing exactly what I was for how long you’ve known her,” he said.

“So sex is cool if it’s in my room?” you asked. Jared groaned. “Well you said the family room is off limits.”

“You got a house. Go have sex over there,” said Jared.

“But we’re here,” you said.

“What are you two? Rabbits?” said Jared, throwing his hands up. “I don’t care. Let’s never talk about this again.”

“Agreed,” you said.

“Oh and Ackles,” he said, pointing at Jensen. “Please never let me see you with your hand down my sister’s pants again.”

“Roger that,” he said, Jared sighing as he went upstairs, returning after a moment and heading outside. “Surprised I’m still alive if I’m being honest.”

“He understands,” you said, crawling back over to him.

“What are you doing?” he asked as you resumed your position from before.

“He’s not coming back,” you said. “I think you were about to do something really fun.”

“I was, wasn’t I,” he said, a mischievous look back on his face. “A whole lot of fun.”

“Morning,” said Jensen when you rolled over in your bed, the sun just starting to fill the room. “Still a bit early.”

“We went to bed early,” you teased, placing your hand on his bare chest.

“We most certainly did not,” he said.

“Can I ask a question? I thought, and in my experience, as guys get older, it takes them a bit longer to recover downstairs,” you said.

“Got a problem with it?” he smirked.

“With you being hornier than a teenage boy? No, no problem at all,” you said.

“It wasn’t too fast for you?” he asked.

“I think you took it pretty slow at some points,” you said, scooting closer. “But no, not for me. Do you-”

“No, not at all. Not that I was expecting anything...I had fun,” he said with a sleepy smile. “I feel like I have a lot of fun with you.”

“I know I do,” you said. He hummed and lay his arm over your back, his fingers dipping into the curve of your spine.

“S’always the quiet ones,” he teased.

“You’re one to talk,” you said, getting a soft lazy kiss from him. “Any big plans for the day?”

“Catch up on a few brewery things. My agent called yesterday. Sounds like they got that part I wanted narrowed down to me and another guy,” he said.

“That’s awesome! I hope you get it,” you said.

“And after I tag up with him, I’m going to call that investor back. Give the bed and breakfast the go ahead,” he said. You gave him a big smile and a kiss, Jensen’s cheeks pink for a moment.

“That’s great. I’m sure it’ll be a big success,” you said.

“I’m okay with little success,” he chuckled. “I’m just happy I’m actually doing it.”

“Well I will be your first guest,” you said.

“If I play my cards right, that may end up being very true,” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “You look sleepy.”

“It’s early,” you hummed, nuzzling into his chest.

“How about we go back to sleep for a little while and then, we can have some coffee on the back patio?” he asked.

“I like the way you think, babe.”

______

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#spn #supernatural #rpf #jensen x reader #au #jensen ackles #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #rpf fanfic #spn reader insert #jensen x #supernatural reader insert

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olicitytropes · 5 years ago

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Olicity Tropetastic Awards: Other Inspirations

One of the coolest, and most popular, things about fanfic is that you don’t have to stick to canon for inspiration. We can plop our favorite characters into almost any situation using the books, movies, and tv shows we love. Call it an alternate universe, call it a crossover, call it awesome. Our love for Arrow and for Olicity brought us together, but here are some writers who used other sources to give us the best of both worlds!

@allimariexf’s recs:

Gotta Be Compatible - theshipsfirstmate

Magic Mike AU.

Felicity and the girls go to a strip club in Metropolis for Caitlin's bachelorette party.

**Award: Best Lost-Boy Oliver and Playing-It-Safe Felicity (who find themselves in each other!)**

Breaking All The Rules - griever11

Five letters that were never meant to be sent, two ex-friends who soon rediscover their friendship, and one fake relationship that honestly, isn't really fake at all.

Or, you can't really pretend to be dating each other when what you really want is to be really dating each other.

An Olicity AU, loosely based on To All the Boys I've Loved Before.

**Award: The Longest Mutual Pine Award**

Someone Else’s Sky - punchdrunkdoc

Oliver Queen, the Starling City Vigilante, moves out of his family home into a small apartment.

But he has an unexpected roommate.

A 'Just Like Heaven' AU

**Award: Most Brilliant and Beautiful Season 1 “What-If” (also known as: THIS FIC MADE ME CRY REAL TEARS and FEEL ALL THE THINGS)**

Baby Daddy - moreorLessJess

Bartender Oliver Queen was living his twenties to the fullest, he lived with his best friend John Diggle, and his brother in everything but blood, Tommy Merlyn just moved in to their apartment as he started his professional baseball career for the Starling City Rockets. On top of that, his childhood best friend Felicity Smoak, who was no longer goth and instead blonde and beautiful, was back in town and they were hanging out again.

Oliver thought his days were going to be filled with partying, one night stands, and boys weekends while also spending quality time with the girl everyone kept telling him he was in love with.

Until his ex girlfriend dropped a baby on his doorstep who turned out to be his son.

After a lot of thought and Felicity Smoak peptalks, Oliver decides to keep and raise his son with the help of his friends.

Or the Freeform sitcom Baby Daddy AU that no one asked for but I needed to write. Aka Oliver and Felicity are childhood friends and are hopelessly in love with eachother and everyone knows but them, oh and now they're raising a baby.

What could go wrong?

**Award: Fluffiest Childhood Friends Trope**

Absolutely, Probably - theshipsfirstmate

Oliver tells his ten-year-old daughter a story about the loves of his life.

RomCom AU based on the Ryan Reynolds movie "Definitely, Maybe" for the Arrow Summer Movie AU Challenge.

**Award: Most Achingly Beautiful Delayed-Happily-Ever-After**

The time to make up your mind about people (is never) - nashtag

Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak had a whirlwind Vegas romance—and a tornado of a divorce a year later. Two years after that, Oliver is about to marry his old flame, Laurel Lance. But when his father is caught cheating with another executive, he must let two journalists cover his wedding to preserve the family name.

Philadelphia Story/Arrow AU, with a dash of Flash crossover.

**Award: Most Heart-wrenching But Hopeful Second Chance at True Love (with a happy ending, of course)**

@tangled23works’ recs:

The Governess - @laurabelle2930

Felicity Smoak is a 22 year old Governess for the newly orphaned Thea Meryln. Thea's caregiver is the mysterious lord of Thornfield manor Oliver Queen. Based on the amazing novel by Charlotte Bronte "Jane Eyre" inspired this prompt from @lalawo1

**Award: Best Affectionate Bickering**

Welcome to the Party - @bushlaboo

Die Hard inspired AU – Oliver Queen, an SCPD officer, tries to save his wife, Felicity Smoak, and several others, taken hostage by terrorist Edward Fyers during a Christmas party at Nakatomi Plaza in Los Angeles. [Borrowed some dialogue from the show and the movie; it was too good to pass up.]

**Award: The Olicity/Die Hard AU I Didn’t Know I Needed But Enjoyed Immensely**

Velocity - MachaSWicket

SUMMARY: There's a bomb on a bus. Once the bus goes 50 miles an hour, the bomb is armed. If it drops below 50, it blows up. What do you do? AKA, the Olicity Speed AU.

**Award: Best ‘If you’re not leaving, I’m not leaving’ Moment That Made Me Cry**

Separate Lives - shannyfish

It was luck that Madelyn Smoak and Mackenzie Queen met at summer camp during a fencing match. Neither of them expected to pull off a mask and find a reflection of themselves staring back. But in the days that followed the girls learned that they were sisters– twins, separated by their parents. Madelyn had been raised in London with tech genius and blonde bombshell Felicity Smoak, while Mackenzie grew up with their father, Oliver Queen, the owner of Green Arrow Vineyards. When the girls devise a devious plan to switch parents, neither of them expected that what they’d really be fighting for was putting their family back together again. (Parent Trap AU)

**Award: Most Entertaining Olicity-Have-Kids-Who-Plot-Against-Them Fic**

@msbeccieboo’s recs:

Two Weeks Notice - LucyHatesJosh4Eva

Oliver Queen has a reputation as an insufferable playboy and a habit of hiring very inept, very attractive attorneys to represent his multi-billion dollar family corporation. So when an act of corporate espionage lands Felicity Smoak in his office on the heels of his last hiring debacle, her law degree and tech experience seem like the way to please his shareholders and his unhappy mother. He expects her smart mouth to cause him a huge pain in the ass; however, he doesn’t expect to trust and like her. Over time, Oliver starts to rely on Felicity for everything, and his world comes to a crashing halt when she gives her two weeks notice.

Retelling of the adorable rom com “Two Weeks Notice” starring Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant. I love this movie, and borrow some plot and some dialog with appreciation and joy. Updates on Mondays.

**Award: Most Wonderfully Frustrating ‘Just Tell Each Other How You Feel, Dammit’ Fic**

In Every Star, I See Your Face (Call Me in the Morning) - @jsevick

Felicity's new internship is full of... complications. (Grey’s Anatomy AU)

**Award: Best Olicity Playing Doctor, Literally**

Love Like Battleships - @callistawolf

Six Days Seven Nights AU - Felicity is a driven career woman on a much-needed vacation with her doting boyfriend. Oliver is a charter pilot with a history of running from complications (and his life). They clash from the start, two wrongs rubbing up against each other the wrong way. What happens when a nasty storm causes them to crash on a deserted island, alone, together?

**Award: Most Untraditional Appearance of a Trousersnake in a Fic**

Between Hello and Roses - charmingwords23

Felicity Smoak had no idea what she was getting herself into when she signed on to be the star of the new season of The Bachelorette. With plenty of drama, adventure, heartbreak, and romance, this season promises to be the most shocking and dramatic yet!

**Award: Cheesiest (in the best way) Reality TV Olicity**

Surreal but Nice - angelica

"After all... I'm just a guy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him."

a.k.a.

One Wednesday, Felicity Smoak of Tech Village meets Oliver Queen, the movie star. (Notting Hill AU)

**Award: Most Adorable Bumbling Felicity**

@memcjo’s recs:

Are These Your Glasses? - IIIIRENE

When Queens Consolidated throws a masked ball for New Year's Eve, Oliver and Felicity meet for the first time. They dance all night long until Felicity mysteriously flees from the venue dropping her glasses in the process. Unfortunately Oliver never got the name of the gorgeous blonde in the emerald dress, but he has her glasses and he will stop at nothing to find her so that they can continue where they left off.

Olicity AU inspired by Cinderella

**Award: Best Olicity Fairy Tale**

How to Save a Life - witchy2008

DWTS!AU. Oliver Queen has been pushed into competing to improve his image and subsequently the QC stock prices. His professional partner, Felicity Smoak, is working on coaxing him into putting some of his ghosts to rest.

This week, Team Olicity presents Oliver's most memorable year with a contemporary dance dedicated to Shado.

**Award: Best Sexy Olicity Dancing SO Sexy**

seemingly impossible (but not untrue) - @alexiablackbriar13

Genius historian Dr Felicity Smoak unknowingly and accidentally calls up a bewitched alchemical manuscript within the Oxford Bodleian Libraries - a book that has been lost for centuries.

Felicity wants nothing to do with magic, despite her heritage and unruly, powerful abilities. But her discovery of Ashmole 782 sets the world of creatures stirring.

With a mystery afoot and new, dangerous magical abilities manifesting for her to navigate, she is approached by the enigmatic vampire biochemist Professor Oliver Queen, who seems to have a deep interest in both the manuscript… and her.

Based on A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness.

(No knowledge of ADOW or background is needed for you to read this fic!)

**Award: Best Felicity and Oliver Being Drawn Together Against the Odds**

Move - @bushlaboo

Push inspired AU. When people with psychic abilities are discovered governments around the world setup agencies to handle and secretly experiment on these enhanced individuals, one such agency is ARGUS. They're testing a powers boosting drug, Mirakuru, which will allow them to build the most powerful psychic army in the world. The only thing standing in their way is the vision of world’s most powerful Watcher who set in place the means to allow her daughter to foil their plan over a decade ago.

**Award: Best BAMF Felicity Smoak**

@smoaking-greenarrow’s recs:

How To Train Your Vigilante - @alexiablackbriar13

In a world where dragons exist and roam the earth, Felicity Smoak considers herself to be a normal if not slightly nerdy IT girl, with complicated family issues, a fascination with the winged predators and a slight ‘saving people’ complex. Her entire world changes when she meets Oliver, the infamous deadly Night Fury - and a genetic experiment - who flies around Starling City taking down criminals.

Their partnership will be one that rocks the world.

(How To Train Your Dragon AU)

**Award: The ‘Oliver as Toothless is Brilliant and Spot-on’ Award**

The Big Catch - @nodecaff4me

The lives of Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak could not be more different.

He was an infamous billionaire playboy and heir to a fortune 500 company who did everything he could to reform himself into everything his family wanted him to be. She was a struggling single mother of two girls, doing her best she could do get her family through after her whole life in Boston had fallen apart in the aftermath of her ex-husband’s criminal mischiefs.

Both their worlds collide after his yacht’s Wifi-network collapses somewhere along the Oregon coast and he is forced to harbor in a small sleepy town called Elk Cove and hire an IT specialist to fix it only to refuse to pay her for her work in the end.

All bets are off when she learns that he was laying in the county hospital with amnesia after an accident and she could finally get her revenge...

An #Olicity Overboard AU (WIP)

**Award: The ‘I’ve Never Seen This Movie but This Fic is Everything I Need’ Award**

Stones of Time - arrow_through_my_writers_block

AU. Felicity Smoak is halfway across the world on a mission to recover the rumored mystical waters known as the Lazarus Pit. But when fate tosses her back in time and into the company of rogue League of Assassins members, she's caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse... soon falling for the mysterious Al-Sah-him, otherwise known as Oliver Queen. Will she find a way back to her time, or will love and adventure keep her in the past to possibly change the future? *inspired by Outlander

**Award: The ‘Perfect Fic for Your (my) Arrow and Outlander Obsessions’ Award and a Bonus ‘Fangirl Swoon’ Award for Al-Sah-him**

Fate, Luck, and Tequila - Emilyymay_x

The Olicity AU based on the film 'Just My Luck'

Oliver is a billionaire playboy with all the luck in the world.

Felicity Smoak is an excellent IT assistant at Queen Consolidated, with the most rotten luck ever.

When they meet at a masquerade party, they have no idea how much the tables will turn.

**Award: The ‘Better Than the Movie’ Award**

Werewolves and Vigilantes - Emilyymay_x

When Felicity finds out who her father is, and finds out he lives in Beacon Hills with his son, Felicity has to go and meet them. Little does she expect the crazy in Starling to be ten times worse in Beacon Hills... a whole new level in fact… (Teen Wolf inspired)

**Award: The ‘Best Combination of TV Shows Crossover’ Award**

Let us always find each other (in every world, in every story) - imgoingtocrash

Instead of asking Felicity to work on the ATOM Exosuit, Ray brings Felicity on to help him create a device that allows the user to theoretically travel to parallel universes. When Ray turns the theoretical into reality by stealing one of the prototypes and attempting to find his dead wife at the cost of ruining other universes, Felicity follows him. What begins as an attempt to stop her boss from going places he doesn’t belong turns into a realization that some people will always find a way to be together, no matter what.

A Thousand Pieces of You inspired AU, but no book knowledge is required.

**Award: My New Favorite ‘Exploring Other Universes Fic’ Award**

@blondeeoneexox’s recs:

Kerosene and Desire - @smoaking-greenarrow

An Olicity Notebook AU with a darker twist.

**Award: Most Intense, Sweet, Topsy-Turvy, Beautiful Notebook AU (With the Best Cliffhanger!)**

Home is Where the Heart is - CSM

AU. This fic is loosely based on the movie Sweet Home Alabama. Puppy love is for fairytales and storybooks, they don't exist in the real world and all Oliver wants is for her to sign on the dotted line, a clear cut divorce. But being married to the most stubborn woman in the world and their equally opinionated mothers, Oliver knows this trip back home is going to be anything but easy.

**Award: Most Sass-Filled, Funny, Romantic Olicity AU**

Where You Lead (I Will Follow) - @jsevick

Oliver Queen’s careful routine at the diner he owns is disrupted by Stars Hollow’s newest residents, a single mom and her young daughter searching for a new life--and his own simple life will never be the same. (Gilmore Girls AU)

**Award: The Slowest of Slow Burns That I Wish We Could Have More Of!**

The Sound of an Arrow - thecomebackkids99

Five years ago, Oliver Queen lost his wife in a car accident.

Twenty years ago, Felicity Smoak's father kissed her on the forehead and disappeared from her life.

Now, she is the nanny for the six adorable Queen children, fighting to restore love in the mansion and trying to deal with the difficult-to-get-along-with Oliver, all the while as she continues to stumble upon evidence that could drag the Queen family further into darkness. (The Sound Of Music AU)

**Award: Most Emotional Rollercoaster**

Felicity the Virgin - javajunkie

When Felicity is accidentally artificially inseminated with hotel mogul Oliver Queen's sperm, her life changes in more ways than she could have ever imagined. Jane The Virgin - OLICITY STYLE AU

**Award: Most Beautiful Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers to Family Fic**

#Arrow #Olicity #olicity tropetastic awards #Other Inspirations trope #rec list #olicity fanfiction #olicity fic #Oliver Queen #Felicity Smoak

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eternlle · 4 years ago

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𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒

use tv tropes to associate 10 tropes with your muse that you think are important (tip: your character is likely to have some tropes already listed if they are part of a recognized canon!) feel free to copy-paste the definitions of the tropes, or explain their relevance by identifying them on your own. repost, don’t reblog. (and tw for possible imagery / triggers on some tv tropes pages.)

i. the ingenue : “ The Ingenue is a young virginal woman with the purity of a child. she is kind, sweet-natured, polite, and optimistic, and on the sliding scale of idealism vs. cynicism, she falls very much on the idealistic side. her innocence will often inspire protective feelings in heroic characters, and she is frequently one of the more beautiful characters because of the convention that beauty = goodness. unfortunately, her innocence also often makes her woefully naive, making her a prime target for a villain seeking to take advantage of her, often in an I Have You Now, My Pretty fashion. ”

ii. who wants to live forever ( averted ) : “ the worst fate possible might well be immortality. sure, you might like the idea that you get to live forever and see what the world's like hundreds of years from now, but what's eternal life compared to the pain of life in general? from eventual boredom to eternal entrapment and torture to the emotional anguish of seeing your loved ones die, one by one, as you stay fixed in time. then let's not forget that the earth might be destroyed by the expanding sun in a few billion years, so if you haven't a way to leave by then you can look forward to spending eternity in space, orbiting the dying core of the sun. this attitude toward immortality is older than feudalism, going back at least as far as the greek myths. ”

evelyn has the opposite attitude ; she enjoys her immortality for all it’s worth. at least, she definitely doesn’t see it as a curse. though she has no idea how it happened, she also doesn’t know how to reverse it, so she figures she may as well enjoy the benefits.

iii. older than they look : “ sometimes characters don't look their age. whether it was a deliberate artistic choice on the behalf of the creator (usually to make the character more attractive or to legally fulfill a fetish) or something much deeper and linked to their characterization and the plot, this character will be older than they look. although usually still within the normal range of the human lifespan (for that setting, anyway), this character will look noticeably younger than their age. sometimes even improbably younger; it's not unheard of for a seeming teenager to be over the hill chronologically. ”

iv. cope by pretending : “ a character is currently (or has been ) in a very stressful situation. it might be that they're dealing with the loss of someone dear to them, an event that traumatized them. as a means of coping, they quite literally pretend that things are not as bad as they are. perhaps by making up imaginary people, or pretending that, in-between scavenging for food and running from monsters, the morning paper is still running. it could go as far as to pretend that the event that hurt them so never happened at all. someone who is aware that they are Coping by Pretending knows how bad their situation truly is, and knows that the pretending is just that. but it just makes things easier, so they keep doing it. ”

v. healing factor : “ a character is hard to kill, not because he doesn't get hurt, but because he has the ability to rapidly recover from serious damage. although it depends on how fast he can heal and how much of a beating his body can take, a character with healing factor will bounce back from severe injuries that other beings can't, often with no scars or medical treatment rarely will a character need to worry about infection, as a super immune system is most often packaged in, but they may need to worry about setting broken bones. ”

vi. the lost lenore ( inverted ) : “ The Lost Lenore, aka the dead love interest — not parent, not sibling, not offspring, love interest. one of the oldest ones in the book, named for the famous deceased in edgar allan poe's "the raven". in order to qualify for this trope, it must be clear that the characters who lose their Lost Lenore grieve strongly for her, and that overcoming their grief and learning to love again is a significant part of character/plot development. sometimes subsequent love interests never entirely replace Lenore. if she left children behind, the children often have considerable emotional baggage to deal with, including a father (or father-figure equivalent) whose grief can render him overprotective, neglectful, abusive, or absent. the children may feel, or even be told explicitly, that they are either too much like the Lost Lenore, or else not enough like her. angst ensues. ”

evelyn is the lost lenore to her husband, who presumes her dead. after a search of the woods could reveal no sign of his wife beyond the place where her footprints ended, mr. ferriday was driven to distraction by grief. he took the entire household and fled to london, where he established himself permanently ; he could never bear to return to the place where his wife died. though he was not deeply in love with evelyn, her loss haunted him nonetheless, and he sank into brooding despair for many years.

vii. mad dreamer : “ if the reason that humans don't deal with creative sterility is that humanity is insane, then this character is just that extra bit more insane than the rest of humanity. they not only make up fantastic art and stories, they then live them. expect them to be the odd ones out in any kind of group, since they're the only ones talking about the adventures they had last night hunting dragons. however, rather than be held in lower esteem for being unable to take reality (or cope with the way that society creates it), they are held in higher esteem within the work for the imagination and vivacity (for these characters are almost always very energetic and emotional) with which they live life. ”

viii. nature lover : " this is about those who love the great outdoors and all that dwell therein. they may be a forest dweller themselves, or live in the countryside where they commune with nature. it's also a safe bet that they'll either have a close bond with the local fauna, or at least have extensive knowledge of them. In their view, the world is just awesome so they want to spend as much time with it as possible and share it with others. whereas ones who live in the city may often spend time at the park, or just watching the sunset. usually a sign of goodness, indicating a wholesome character uncorrupted by secularism. ”

ix. back from the dead : “ a major character has been killed, pronounced dead and buried. however, the established laws of the universe allow for functional magic, a sufficiently advanced alien, applied phlebotinum, deus ex machina or similar agency to intervene and subvert what naturally follows dying. namely, staying dead. (In some cases, an explanation isn't even bothered with.) ”

x. spirited young lady : “ a certain kind of character commonly found in historical fiction set in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. she is the girl who bends the rules just a little. oh, she can dance a country dance or pour tea with the best of them, but she may also be a good walker or horseback rider.... the Spirited Young Lady has the same grace and style as the proper ladies, plus an added spark of attitude or rebellion... she may not speak out for women's rights generally (a few examples do), but she will speak out for her rights pretty clearly. Her willingness to say what she wants is part of what makes her stand out. In unskillful hands, such a character may seem anachronistic, though there are many examples that are both believable and well-rounded. ”

tagged by : borrowed from @westenyra tagging : anyone who wants it!!

#( hcs ) / waiting was enough for me

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azulaahai · 5 years ago

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take me to church (1/?) - a jon x sansa fake dating au

”Ask him! What’s the harm? He can just hang out with you and dry your tears. We know you think he looks good in a tux…” Only Margaery could sound both suggestive and innocent at the same time.

”That was one time! And it was Robb’s wedding! I was emotionally vulnerable!”

Or: Receiving an invitation to the wedding between her former friend and her former boyfriend, Sansa Stark must ask her boss Jon Snow to be her fake date.

Title, of course, from the Hozier song.

Haven't written fic in ages and I feel rusty af, this is rather messy but whoomp, here it is, a good old fake dating AU.

read chapter 1 under the cut or on ao3

* * *

The wedding invitation arrives on a rainy Thursday.

”Hello?” Sansa calls out as she painstakingly closes her apartment door with her foot, carrying three bags of groceries. ”Arya? Marg?”

Thursday is family dinner night, and it’s Sansa’s turn to host this week. Margaery and Arya were sweet enough to offer to come help her prepare, and she can her them now in her living room, the sound of their chatter dulled by the smattering of rain against the windows. They must have let themselves in with Arya’s key.

”Hi guys”, Sansa says as she passes by the sofa, where her sister and sister-in-law are sitting.

”Hi, Sans”, they chant almost in unison, and Sansa rolls her eyes. Marg and Arya get along very well. It’s both endearing, irritating and terrifying.

”Need some help with that?” Arya calls out after her as she enters the kitchen, putting down the bags on the counter with a relieved sigh.

”No, I’m fine”, she calls back. ”We made tea.” It’s Margaery this time.

”Great, thanks.” Sansa pours herself a cup from the kettle, tying her rain-dampened hair up in a tight bun before going back to the living room, tea cup in hand. She stops in the doorway. It’s such a sweet picture, Arya and Margaery curled up on her sofa, and Sansa is struck by a wave of affection for them. Her sisters. Her sentimentality makes it take her a moment to notice how strange they’re acting; both Arya and Margaery regard her with awkward expressions, and they’re unusually quiet.

”What?” Sansa says, sipping her tea. ”What’s the matter, weirdos?”

They look at her sheepishly from the sofa, before exchanging a cryptic glance. Neither of them responds.

”One of you better pipe up”, Sansa warns, lowering her cup, her eyes narrowing. ”If you fucking broke something in my apartment again …”

”We didn’t break anything”, Margaery assures her, still not yielding any additional information.

”But something of yours might still be broken very soon”, Arya mutters, causing Margaery to elbow her in the side.

”I swear to god, if none of you tell me what -”

”Okay, okay!” Arya finally says. ”Uhm … This came for you. In the mail.” Arya bends down and picks up what seems to be a card of some sort from the floor, handing it to Sansa. Reading what it says, Sansa can physically feel herself grow pale. She hates herself for reacting, but fuck if the words don’t hit her like a punch.

You are invited to the wedding between Myranda Royce and Harry Hardyng …

Sansa swallows. One, two, three times. She stares at the card, not wanting to meet Arya’s or Margaery’s eyes, though she can feel them upon her.

”You opened it?” she whispers.

”It was my fault”, Margaery immediately says. ”I’d … well, we saw it was a wedding invitation, and I had sort of heard some rumors, so I kind of … we kind of knew what … I’m sorry. Did we overstep?”

Sansa’s vision is blurred and she blinks. She can’t fucking cry over Harry Hardyng. That’s very ’last year’ of her.

”It’s alright. It’s not a big deal. I’m not going.” Sansa’s tone is clear and her voice stable. She definitely does not at all feel like crying anymore. Nah. Absolutely not.

”Of course you are going, you fucking idiot!” Arya exclaims, unapologetically stuffing some of Sansa’s fancy, treat-yourself-you’re-on-your-period chocolate that Sansa hadn’t realised that Arya had taken out of the cupboard into her mouth. Margaery unsurprisingly speaks up in agreement with Arya.

”Totally, Sans. It’s the perfect opportunity to show everyone how you’re the bigger person and completely cool and over the situation.” Arya nods at that and hands Marg a piece of chocolate, that Marg accepts. Sansa is going to kill them. But later. When her head stops spinning and she doesn’t feel like she just got punched. The wedding between Myranda Royce and Harry Hardyng …

It takes her a moment to gather herself enough to reply in a nonchalant tone.

”Being obviously single at the wedding of my former friend and my former boyfriend? Thanks, but no thanks.” Sansa suddenly wants comfort, wants hugs and gentleness. She wishes at least one of them would have gone with the ’poor you, I’ll do anything to console you’ approach rather than this ’we’ll give you bad advice’ circus.

”Ask someone to go with you!” says Margaery, excitement glimmering in her doe eyes, her earlier ashamed tone now long gone. ”Think about it. How often do you have such an amazing opportunity to not only show two people who have fucked you over that you’re doing so much better without them, but also by doing so somewhat ruin what is supposed to be the happiest day of their life?”

”But I’m not doing so much better without them”, Sansa says in a low voice. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic, chants an unhelpful voice in the back of her head. ”And you know I’m not the revenge type, really. Plus, even if I went with a date - in theory!” she adds as Arya and Marg begin cheering in the sofa, ”I’d be an emotional wreck all weekend. I couldn’t make someone come be my date for a boring ass wedding and watch me slowly die inside for two days.”

”Oh my god”, says Margaery, clearly undeterred by Sansa’s somber speech, practically bouncing in the sofa, ”you should ask Jon!”

Arya’s eyes go wide and a wicked grin spreads across her face. Sansa can already tell she is screwed.

”Margaery Tyrell. You are a motherfucking genius!” Arya all but yells.

”I can’t ask Jon!” Sansa says with desparation in her voice, panic rising within her at the mere thought. God. The idea of attending this wedding is already making her physically sick. To go with Jon would basically be emotional suicide. They might as well take her to the insane asylum straight away. Or the morgue.

”Why not?” Marg says. ”He’s an appropriate age, he’s cute as hell, you know him well so it won’t be weird, we know he’s a good guy so he could just do it as a favor, a platonic thing …”

”He’s my boss, Marg.”

”Oh please!” Arya chimes in. ”He’s a café owner and you manage his café. It’s not really as risqué as you make it sound.”

”I wasn’t making it sound risqué!” Sansa squeaks. She acutely regrets getting out of bed this morning. Or at all, ever.

”Plus, we’ve known him for years before he was your boss. It’s not even weird”, Arya says, sounding smug.

”That was one time! And it was Robb’s wedding! I was emotionally vulnerable!” Sansa protests.

”We did have a great wedding”, Marg says with a soft sigh.

”Stop talking about your fucking wedding”, Arya groans from the sofa, burrying her head in one of Sansa’s embroidered pillows. ”We know you had the best wedding and all that. We were there, Marg. You married our fucking brother. It was awesome. We get it.”

”Thanks, Arya”, Sansa says pointedly. ”Maybe we should stop talking about weddings altogether.”

”Not until you agree to take Jon to this one!” Arya says, looking up at her again. ”It’s the perfect plan, Sans.”

”Perfect”, Margs agrees. They’re scary as hell when they gang up on her, Sansa has to admit. She has a terrible feeling that they planned this, that this ’oh, take Jon as your date!’ idea wasn’t as spontaneous as was presented.

It’s as if she’s in a nightmare. Or in hell. Hey, guess what? Harry’s getting married! Yeah, your ex boyfriend who is somehow still a sensitive subject for you! Who is he marrying you ask? Right, that would be your former friend who’s been dating him for, like, half the amount of time that you dated him for! And oh, did I forget to mention? You’ll now be pressured into going to the wedding with your inexplicably attractive boss as your date! Have fun, asshat!

”I’ll think about it”, Sansa says, mainly to buy herself some time.

”You can ask him tonight”, Arya says innocently.

”I can ask him when now?”

”He’s coming tonight, didn’t you hear?” Margaery says, in a tone far too blasé to be authentic. ”Robb invited him.”

”To family dinner? In my apartment?”

”Relax! He’s basically part of the family”, Arya says, indignant. ”Plus, it’s not like we’re strict on the ’just Starks’ rule. Margaery’s here, after all -”

”Hey, I married Robb, for fucks sake! I’m part of this family by law.”

”- and Gendry’s coming, so I don’t see what’s the big.”

”Gendry’s coming!?” Sansa shrieks.

* *

Sansa splashes some cold water in her face, meeting her own gaze in the bathroom mirror. She looks tired, but not heartbroken. Rather well, considering the current circumstances - ready to greet the unexpected amount of guests that is going to be showing up any minute now. She’s taken respite in the bathroom for a few blissful minutes of solitude.

Margaery and Arya have been unusually kind to her all day after the wedding date discussion. Out of care for her feelings or out of guilt for pressuring Sansa earlier, Sansa can’t tell, but it’s been rather welcome in her fragile state. Arya even gave her a long, warm hug before the cooking frenzy began, and that’s rather rare.

Then again, Sansa knows how worried they all were for her during the Harry Hardyng circus. It had been her first real, grown up heartbreak, Harry telling her ’this wasn’t working anymore’ after two years together, and tears and grief had followed. She’d moved past that after a couple of months, but still, Harry had been the type of ex that you’re not quite finished with, the kind who’s still in the back of your mind, the kind you secretly harbor hopes of reunion for. It wasn’t until Myranda Royce, her friend from work, told Sansa she ’wanted to talk to her about something’, and revealed that she and Harry had started dating, that Sansa realized just how much she had counted on one day getting back together with Harry, and the blow was a hard one. The revelation unfortunately coincided with the ten year anniversary of her parents’ deaths, and the emotional toll sent Sansa rather far down a black hole. She quit her job, and had trouble finding a new one.

If Jon Snow hadn’t offered her a manager position in his café, Sansa isn’t sure where she’d be. He wasn’t perhaps her knight in shining armor, but that first day she was so utterly grateful to have him just be her boss in a black apron, showing her how the espresso machine worked.

So Margaery and Arya’s suggestion of Jon Snow being the one to save her from the curse of Harry Hardyng once and for all by accompanying her to his - barf - wedding was more poetic than they perhaps realised. Full circle, in a way. Jon saved Sansa once from the Harry Hardyng hole, and he might save her once more. She rolls her eyes at herself in the mirror. It’s a crazy idea, made up by crazy people, she reminds herself. But she can’t stop herself from picturing how it would be, pulling up to the wedding with Jon Snow in tow, not sitting by herself amidst strangers pathetically fighting back tears over her lost future with Harry fucking Hardyng, but rather on a fun weekend getaway with her (fake, but nobody needs to know that) boyfriend.

Plus, she knows something that Arya and Margaery doesn’t; Harry was always a little intimidated by Jon. Got jealous when he was around. It’s petty and juvenile and stupid and probably completely inaccurate, but some part of Sansa is convinced that some part of Harry would still hate to see her dating Jon Snow of all people.

Her embarrassing line of thought is broken by the sound of the doorbell.

They’re here.

* * *

”Uhm, Jon?” Sansa says, clearing her throat.

They’re by themselves in the hallway after dinner, and Sansa has a sneaking suspicion that Arya and Margaery might have planned it that way. Arya and Gendry loudly joking with Robb in the kitchen while doing the dishes, Margaery entertaining Bran and Rickon in the living room, Sansa is alone in saying goodbye to Jon in the hallway. Dinner was a success, to her surprise; she’s tired, but not in an unpleasant way. Today’s not been as bad as it could have been. Family dinner nights are always nice, and she needed one today. Sansa’s had a glass or two of wine which might be impacting her decision making, but she’s really about to ask her boss something completely unprofessional.

”Yeah?” Jon looks at her with piercing grey eyes, and Sansa feels herself blush. It’s strange - even with him and Robb being thick as thieves since kindergarten, even with him having been around her forever, even having worked for him for almost a year, Sansa still feels a little unsettled being alone with Jon. Not in a creepy sense - but he’s just never been as open and familial with her as he is with the rest of her siblings, they’ve never been as comfortable around each other. Suddenly, to suggest to Jon Snow that they spend intimate one on one time together seems like a rather bad idea. Sansa swallows. It feels too late to back out now.

”Would you consider doing me a huge favor?” Hm. It sounds rather shady when she says it like that. Like the ’favor’ she’s about to ask is that he store a ton of cocaine for her for a while.

”I’d consider it”, he says, and his eyes sparkle with amusement. ”What’s -”

He’s cut off by Robb entering the hallway, asking Jon if he wants to take some leftovers home with him. For a second, Sansa could swear Jon’s eyes linger on her even as he answers Robb, but the moment passes quickly and afterwards she’s sure she imagined it. When Robb returns to the kitchen to indeed fetch Jon some leftovers, Jon looks rather confused when Sansa remains silent.

”You were saying?”, he says, in that low, gentle tone of his.

”I … nevermind”, she says, shooting him what feels like a weird smile as Robb once more steps into the room. Saved by the bell, or rather, the brother. Yet she feels strangely disappointed. ”We’ll talk tomorrow, perhaps.”

”Right, tomorrow.” They do café paperwork for an hour or two on Fridays. ”You’re on, Stark.”

As Jon says his goodbyes in the living room, as he gives Sansa a short side hug while mumbling something about her ’delicious dinner’ in her ear, sending a pleasant shiver up her spine that Sansa chooses to surpress and ignore and lock away in a cupboard, as he steps out the door, as she’s left alone with a somewhat confused-looking Robb in the hallway, that one word still echoes around her head.

Tomorrow.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #my fic #sdkjglksjlkgjlkdjfg #haven't posted anything in ages #and this feels like it's shit #but it's fun to be somewhat back in buisness y'all #god I need sleep lmao

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soveryanon · 5 years ago

Text

Reviewing time for MAG153! … Abridged version because I messed up my planning orz

- And we finally got an actual Corruption statement this season!! You made it into season 4, babe!!

I like how its Crawling Moment Of Awesomeness came little by little:

(MAG140) BASIRA: Er… Jon. What’s this. [DRY SOUND] ARCHIVIST: Mm? … Oh. That’s… [SILENCE] That, uh, that’s… my rib? BASIRA: … Right. [PUTS IT DOWN] ARCHIVIST: Yup… BASIRA: And… the jar of ashes. ARCHIVIST: Not– Not mine; I–I mean, it belongs to me, I–I guess, but it’s not… Er, stationery is in the other drawer?

(MAG145) ARTHUR: [SNORT] Slumlording over a nest. GERTRUDE: Oh. A nest of… what? ARTHUR: Found a mass of the Crawling Rot growing, a while back. Managed to get a hold of the property before it became too big. Gotta wait ‘til it blossoms before we can properly burn it.

(MAG152) HELEN: Hello, Jon. Been a while since you’ve been down here. ARCHIVIST: [ANGRY EXHALE] I didn’t come here to see you. HELEN: Oh, come now. I’m sure I’m more interesting company than the late Jane Prentiss. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … It’s all that left of her now. Apart from a… jar of ashes in my desk. Just a circle of rotten stone on an otherwise… unremarkable wall.

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: This, well… The Corruption at work, if I had to guess, though with unsettling echoes of a… “Fleshliness”.

Jane, The Hive, Jane&The Hive, and now The Corruption for itself.

It’s… an obvious things given Smirke’s name for it (well, at least Gerry’s), but one of the things I find very interesting with Corruption is how it… does that. Rather than insects for themselves, it “corrupts” something, quite often perceived as “pure” and/or “absolute”: Jane craving for “something beyond [her]self” (MAG032), the malarial research turning horribly badly (MAG045), Private Amherst giving his bed to the injured soldiers who needed it more than him (MAG068), little Gordon helping the old Maggie (MAG084), Lester Chang’s not-that-healthy new relationship with his father-in-law and his subsequent obsession for cleanliness (MAG093), Benoît Maçon’s desperation for love (MAG102), Jon’s third victim from season 4 (MAG146: “A man rejected by all who knew him, searching ever-darker places for love. When he told me his story, he started… weeping maggots.”), The Divine Chain cult turning the notion of selfless love into a requirement (MAG153)… which tied in with everything turning Wrong when the dog “Agapē” joined it and that so-called ~pure~ love just opened the door for… spooks.

- But also:

(MAG153, Barbara Mullen-Jones) “I hit my “lowest point” when I turned 41. That’s when my life came crashing down; at least on the inside. From the outside, I’m sure everything looked… pretty much okay. I was getting gigs, I had a job, I had plenty of friends and a supportive family… But that was when I started to properly look at my life, and I… really didn’t like what was looking back…! I was a stand-up comedian, you see, and a really good one. That’s not boasting, that’s just the truth. And I’d always assumed that that was enough to eventually have real success. And for the first… ten years, it seemed like I was right. I worked my way up, performed for basically nothing basically every night, and got to be pretty successful.

… And I stayed that way for the next ten years. [SIGH]

Trouble is, do you know how much a “pretty successful comedian” makes? Let’s just say I had a full-time office job and was still barely making rent. But between working full-time and gigging full-time, I just kept putting off everything else in my life. Always so sure the big time was just around the corner. “This is the TV spot that gets me noticed.” “This is the sell-out fringe show that makes me mainstream.” “This is the deal that actually goes somewhere.”

I made it through turning 40 with my self-image intact, but for some reason, at 41 I just… cracked. I realised I had spent most of my life with nothing to show for it but a few awards no one cares about, a string of… awful comedian exes who broke up with me for being funnier than them… and a dreadful office job [SIGH] I was going to be working until I died, because I’d never bothered to build a stable career. I was never going to own a home; never going to have kids; never going to have the life I’d spent my entire youth sacrificing for.”

… Yes, I know I just quoted the whole beginning of the statement but: a lot of the RQ crew and their friends are comedians, sooo, uhhh. RQ folks, are you okay.

- Abridged version as promised, but things I liked: how you could understand why the statement-giver got wrapped up in the cult, but also how… she didn’t really belong there indeed, because she was mostly focusing on the form of it (the kind words, the contact, the work in itself, the wine production), like she was attracted to the gratuitous symbolisms around the meditation course, but not truly receptive to… the meat of things, what was behind the shape of it, what was at the core?

How she was, at the end, extremely petty about the cult’s failure (“There’s a part of me that’s glad. A sick little part that’s happy that whatever “love” was there, whatever I couldn’t be a part of, is gone from the world. And no one else gets it either.”).

How, oops, a fair amount of officers in the American police may have signed their local equivalent of a Section 31 form… or else, Gertrude or Adelard had been around, because explosives (“The compound was destroyed in an “accidental generator explosion”, and everything was gone.”)

How, once again, we got a statement with an exterior shape reminescent of different Fears (Jon pointing it out at the end, a “fleshliness”), like a few other recent ones? Though this one was a bit spelled out for us. (“And when you’re at that point, it’s astounding what can crawl into your heart – and start to fester there. […] Or if they… came about after things started to change. Started to go rotten.”)

How the statement was about leaving everything to settle in America… while later in the episode, Julia&Trevor revealed that they had come back from it to England.

How the simple representation of the world encouraged by the cult found a kind of echo with Julia&Trevor, simplistically separating people between monsters (preys) and the rest?

- … So, once again: why is Jon reading these specific statements, since he came back from Ny-Ålesund?

* MAG146, “Threshold”: Jon did mention that he had been pulled towards that one when he began to focus on Hill Top Road (“I spent so long looking for it, back when I found his father’s, and… no luck. But now, I decide to start looking properly into Hill Top Road, and all of a sudden… I’m drawn to rearrange a filing cabinet – and what do I find behind it?”)

* MAG147, “Weaver”: left by Annabelle to Fuck Him Up.

* MAG148, “Extended Surveillance”: Beholding, someone getting taken over by Beholding and obsessing over his friend.

* MAG150, “Cul-de-Sac”: Hey, The Power Of MLM Love Can Save Someone From The Lonely Zone If You Reach For Them xoxoxo.

* MAG152, “A Gravedigger’s Envy”: Someone falling deeper and deeper (ha) into their shiny new patron and Enjoying What They’re Doing.

* MAG153, “Love Bombing”: how someone got indoctrinated into a cult, and dodged a bullet by being dismissed from it because they didn’t believe/Feel It enough.

Has it been Annabelle still messing with him? Beholding? A reflection of Jon’s own preoccupations, that’s been leading him towards the few last ones?

- Aka: was that once again Annabelle cackling in Jon’s face because WOW, these first few lines sure felt like someone cackling in Jon’s face:

(MAG153, Barbara Mullen-Jones) “Everyone thinks they’re too smart to get involved in a cult. I’m sure you do. You think, that at the first mention of “aliens”, or the end of the world, or the lost book of the Bible, where Jesus buried his Holy Staff in the foothills of the Himalayas… you’d go running. Trouble is, that misunderstands how it works. I mean, when I was with The Divine Chain, some of the smartest people there were also the most committed. Intelligence doesn’t make you less prone to taking on bad ideas, it just makes you better at defending them…! To other people, and to yourself. Smart people can believe some truly ridiculous things, and then deploy all the reason and logic at their disposal to justify them. Because belief doesn’t begin in your mind – it begins in your feelings.”

… So once again, Jon’s reaction is a priceless “jON???” moment because:

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: Statement ends. [SIGH] … I swear. I almost find the cult dedicated to the Dark Powers of Fear easier to understand than the more mundane sort. At least they have some consistency.

“What’s going on?” / Jon: *clicks “I’m in this statement and I don’t like it.”*

Oh My Gods, Jon… you read so many statements… they work/proceed exactly the same… getting you when you’re vulnerable… filling in what you’re craving and lacking, with the mix of “making you think you were shaped for them” and “shaping you for them” in turn…

(At least, he wasn’t in denial over the fact that the Dread Powers are “cults”. That would have been harder for him to do, anyway; and he didn’t deny it in the past when Georgie (MAG083, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that it’s not part of the cult or whatever the hell it was that left you homeless.”) and Jude (MAG089, “I don’t suppose I could talk to anyone else in your, um…” “It’s fine, you can call it a cult.”) both used the term. Still. Jon, there is no comfort/pride/excuse to get by trying to claim that the Fears Gods you’ve been involved with are more effective than your ~regular~ cults.)

- … How did Julia&Trevor manage to leave America? Last time we had heard of them, they were stuck:

(MAG109) ARCHIVIST: And… [SIGH] why America? JULIA: [FAINT GROAN] TREVOR: [CHUCKLE] Heard tell there were a wolfman…! JULIA: [LAUGH] TREVOR: Old Dave, he’s down in Plymouth, swore blind his brother had seen one on the Pacific Crest trail– JULIA: I told Trevor he was a liar, but here we are anyway. Have been for a couple of years…! TREVOR: Hey, now – no wolfman, sure, but there’ve been plenty out here that would needs killing! JULIA: [LONG-SUFFERING SIGH] True enough. Plus, it’s hard to leave. We’re not exactly here legally and trying to get a flight home would get us noticed by authorities we’d rather avoid. TREVOR: I keep telling her we could hop a boat! JULIA: And I tell him I’d rather stay hunting here than trap myself on a boat for two weeks!

(Julia has Bad History with water.)

- I wasn’t incredibly clear on the post-statement scenography – I assumed there had been a gunshot at first (but it wasn’t tagged in the content warnings, although it had consistently been in previous episodes), so was that loud bang… Jon’s door? Or the trapdoor? being violently banged open?

(There was the chair scraping on the floor when Julia was ordering Jon to stay sitting, so for that, I pictured her hands on his shoulder and at some point, them pinning his arms in his back and slamming his head on the table.)

- Loving how Julia’s perception of Jon doesn’t change:

(MAG107) JULIA: We can chat in the car! I’m sure you’ve got a ton of librarian stories, the miles will just fly by.

(MAG153) JULIA: Sure. Or: I slit your little bookworm’s throat…!

Jon Is Just A Nerd, uh.

- I really love how Jon “Can’t Shut His Mouth” Sims and Julia “Sims, Shut The Fuck Up” Montauk’s dialogue:

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: [VENOMOUS] Gerry wasn’t “yours”. You had no right– [SLAMMING SOUND] TREVOR: Oh, you hear that, Julia? “Gerry”. JULIA: Sounds like it got pretty chummy…! Where is he? […] JULIA: Sure. Or: I slit your little bookworm’s throat…! DAISY: Do it. That give me a chance to finish off your dad. TREVOR: I’m not her father…! ARCHIVIST: Not by blood, maybe…! JULIA: Shut. it. ARCHIVIST: [GROAN OF PAIN]

… was basically an exchange of “YOU’RE JUST A USELESS BI” “OH YEAH? AND YOU HAVE DADDY ISSUES.”

Jon. Jon, please.

(Guuuh over Julia’s “You always do what evil books tell you to, do you?” because… she can’t know, but to say that to someone who had almost been taken by Mr Spider because following the book’s thread? Aouch.)

- And my heart BREAKS over the fact that Julia&Trevor are reproaching him… what was the Most Obviously Anti-Beholding thing Jon has ever done, back in season 3 – fulfilling the promise he had made to Gerry, and freeing/actually killing him, even if it caused himself pain in the process. But for Julia&Trevor, it’s precisely what made him an enemy just like any other monster.

(MAG153) ARCHIVST: He asked me to. JULIA: Oh, really? You always do what evil books tell you to, do you? TREVOR: Gotta say, I’m disappointed. Genuinely thought you were different. But you’re just another monster. Not even worth the chase…! JULIA: You want the honours, old man. TREVOR: Don’t mind if I do~!

Aouch. (I wonder what part of it was rightful anger at being deprived of their “monster manual”, and how much was actually a pretext to kill someone they had so far deemed as vaguely spooky, though? Interestingly, they didn’t mention that they felt like Jon had gotten worse or anything. According to their words, they only wanted to kill Jon because they felt that he had betrayed them and that siding with Gerry meant that he was “another monster”.)

- And bringing back the mention of Gerry and the book… also puts Eric Delano back to mind. Gerry only knew that his mother had used his father as training material with the book, but he didn’t find him inside. We know that Mary gave Gertrude a page, implying that it was Eric’s (“what’s left of him”), but Jon didn’t find it in Gertrude’s secret stash either:

(MAG111) GERARD: I never knew my dad. Not really. He worked in the Archives like you, but quit once I was born. I think he wanted to help raise me. But mum didn’t need the help, and after me she wasn’t able to have kids again, so she killed him in his sleep to practice her bookbinding. I guess she failed. I always thought he was in here, but when I eventually got hold of it, there wasn’t a page in there.

(MAG062) MARY: The End, of course. I could never truly serve it; I just don’t find death that interesting. I’ve always found a singular devotion far too restrictive. Just ask Eric… or what’s left of him. […] GERTRUDE: And do you have any proof of this? Your… “magic book”. MARY: Yeah. [PAPER RUSTLING] You can keep this page. I made sure it was in English. GERTRUDE: Go– Who… who is it? MARY: A surprise, dear. Just make sure you’re alone when you read it. [CHAIR SCRAPING] Goodbye, Gertrude. Wish me luck. [DOOR OPENING] [DOOR CLOSING] GERTRUDE: Well. I–I don’t… really know what to add to that. If what she says is true, I should think carefully before reading this page aloud. I should probably destroy it. [GRUNT] I do rather hate the smell of burning skin. Anyway… that’s a decision for another day. [CHAIR SCRAPING] [FLOORBOARD OPENING] [FLOORBOARD CLOSING] […] ARCHIVIST: […] But in spite of all that, I’m… strangely excited. Because what sticks out to me more than anything else in that tape… is the very distinctive floorboard, at the end. [CLOTHES RUFFLING] One that hasn’t changed in the eight years since this statement was given. There’s never been any reason to look closely at a random section of floor. This bit wasn’t even breached by any of the worms. [FLOORBOARD OPENS] Because it had Gertrude’s hidden compartment beneath it. Hmm. No… strange skin page. But there is a laptop. And a key. I wonder what it opens. End supplement. [CLICK.]

So… the question is still up – did Gertrude burn the page in the end? We know that she had burned a few things down in the tunnels, including at least one Leitner. Did she keep the page and is it stored somewhere? And if so… why would have she kept it? Eric was likely one of her assistants before Gerry was born, and Gertrude sounded… rather fond of him:

(MAG085) ARCHIVIST: Date of original statement unclear, though paper quality likely puts it at between twenty and thirty years ago. […] There are some… short pieces of correspondence in the file, addressed to Gertrude, from someone called, er, Eric Delano, confirming that while he typed out this statement, he has no memory of doing so, and requesting some sick leave to address… persistent migraines he has developed.

(MAG137) GERTRUDE: […] And I will admit I’ve grown… fond of the boy. I wonder, if I told him about Eric – whether he’d follow in his father’s footsteps. Still, that’s not like it kept Eric safe in The End.

A few things: Gerry did point out to Jon that he was surprised that Gertrude had apparently managed to get Mary to teach her how to book-bind (MAG111: “I just had to make sure I took the book while my mum was fading, and brought it to her, and then she would free me. I didn’t really believe her, I don’t think, but I did it anyway. When she returned the book to me a week later, her pages burned and mangled, I think I actually cried with relief. I never even considered that my mum might have taught Gertrude how to make pages for it before she was destroyed.”). Could Gertrude have learned it through Eric instead of Mary? Gerry also mentioned that, beyond the fact that Gertrude had chosen to imprison him within the book, he didn’t understand why she had left him behind (MAG111: “I think… I think I finally understand why she brought me back. I just don’t understand why she left me behind.”) – and, indeed, why…? Was it because she had been too freaked out by her arrest (although the book… stayed behind, unclaimed, and she could have got her hands back on it legally)? Was it because Gertrude wanted to leave behind a few hints about her actions, in case she got killed before achieving her goals? Was it because she wanted to retrieve it later, when things would be safer…? (That’d be extremely sentimental coming from her, but if she had kept Eric’s page… could it be that she had planned for Gerry and Eric to meet somehow at some point? If so: AOUCH, because Jon gave Gerry what he wanted, what he asked for… but if Jon were to discover that Eric’s page was still intact and that Gerry could have met his father at last? That… would hurt, uh.)

- Julia&Trevor being back in the game means that they… potentially share a connection with everyone in Team Archives, one way or another:

* Jon was Hunted by Julia, kidnapped/“bodyguarded” by her (MAG107), took Julia&Trevor’s statement about how they met (MAG109), stole Gerry’s page from them (MAG111) before burning it (MAG117). They were already on the fence about Jon’s status as a potential prey back then, but they had at least some interests in common with him (the world not ending, perceiving Max Mustermann as an enemy); right now, Julia&Trevor are clearly labelling Jon as a target and as an overall “monster” – plus, they have the grudge about the page and… there is the fact that Jon’s dreams contained them:

(MAG153) JULIA: [LAUGHS] You’ve got something of ours. TREVOR: “Someone”. JULIA: Took him right from under our noses…! TREVOR: In our own house. JULIA: I call that rude, don’t you? ARCHIVIST: [VENOMOUS] Gerry wasn’t “yours”. You had no right– [SLAMMING SOUND] TREVOR: Oh, you hear that, Julia? “Gerry”. […] Not gonna ask you again, son. ARCHIVIST: I burned the page. Released him. [SILENCE] TREVOR: Aren’t that right noble of you. JULIA: Proper humanitarian. TREVOR: So. [INHALE] Let me get this straight! We take ye in; protect ye from the thing that’s huntin’ ye… JULIA: Spared your life! Even though you’re no better. TREVOR: Help you; give you access to one of our most valuable resources; and you steal it from us, piss off back to England, and then… burn it?! [SHUFFLING] That’s just inconsiderate.

(MAG120) ELIAS: The dark building is newer, but he knows it well; knows the two lost souls who creep through it with an alert hunger on their faces. He recognizes that look from the other Hunter whose dreams he's watched for so long. They stalk the darkness itself, and hope to catch and kill it before it can do the same to them. They see him watching, but they cannot catch his scent.

… Even for Jon’s standards, that’s a lot. Usually, people wanted him dead because of the “Archivist” title and/or because he was marked by The Eye (Jane Prentiss, the Not!Them, Nikola, Michael-The-Distortion in MAG101…), not for… personal reasons, for things Jon himself had done. (… The only exception had been, interestingly… Daisy. Daisy who wanted to rip him apart because he had forced her to give him her statement, and because she kept seeing him in her dreams.)

(* Obviously Peter, and potentially Martin, because:

(MAG153) TREVOR: [SHAKING SIGH] … Come on, Julia. JULIA: What?! TREVOR: There’s no rush. [CHORTLING] We’ve got all the time in the world. Besides… this place is just full of monsters. She can’t guard ’em all.

There Are Other “Monsters” Here.

Would they sense the spooks from Martin, nowadays…?)

* Daisy used to be a Hunter like them, but has decided to stop serving. Trevor used to perceive The Hunt as an “addiction”, occasionally managed to make himself quit it, but when Jon met him in June 2017, Trevor had returned to The Hunt and already decided that he was getting a fair deal out of it, all things considered:

(MAG056, Trevor Herbert) “In the early 80s, I was deep in the grip of my twin addictions. As I mentioned, after a while, The Hunt became an addiction of its own. Of the two, I’ve always found heroin the easier one to quit. […] But The Hunt… the hunt is a purpose. It’s not just a way to get through the day, it’s a reason for there to be a day at all. […] Ah, it’s a shame I’m on the way out. I will miss The Hunt.”

(MAG109) ARCHIVIST: I–I mean, yes… But the situation has changed quite a bit. Last I heard, you were dying of lung cancer…! TREVOR: I was. ARCHIVIST: And now…? TREVOR: I’m not. [CHUCKLE] ARCHIVIST: And, and that doesn’t strike you as… odd. TREVOR: Not much I see these days isn’t “odd”, somehow or other. Not gonna turn my nose up at that one bit that worked out well for me. I hunt monsters; my lungs don’t kill me. [HUFF] Seems like a fair trade. No big job, today.

Daisy antagonised them both, Julia & Daisy are quite obviously ready and willing to jump at each other’s throat again… Which is a bad sign for Daisy, since they’re bringing back her murderous thoughts.

(On the one hand, their antagonism could push Daisy back into The Hunt’s waiting arms. On the other hand… it could go another way – though that would feel very hopeful: now that Trevor has been acknowledged as being a father figure for Julia… could it lead to Trevor pushing Julia out of The Hunt, because he would care more about her well-being than about hunting with her and he knows what a life of Hunt does to you?)

* BASIRA WAS WITH THE SECTION’D OFFICERS WHO RAIDED RAYNER’S LAST BODY-THEFT ATTEMPT, AND SHE WITNESSED HIS DEATH.

Especially since Basira&Jon have just come out of a mini-Dark arc… it feels especially relevant? Julia lost both her mother and her father to the People’s Church of the Divine Host, because of Rayner, and she had herself been scared of The Dark for long:

(MAG109) JULIA: There was another reason that I chose to work nights. If you read my statement, then I’m sure it will come as no surprise that for most of my life, I’ve had a pretty significant fear of the dark. I used to lie awake at night; listening, straining my ears for the noise of movement or that… dreadful growl coming out of the dark. It was one of my better counsellors that suggested I try working nights as a way to address it. And it worked! For the most part.

Amongst other things, we recently had confirmation of what had happened to Julia’s mom through Manuela’s statement:

(MAG143) MANUELA: You were not the first to try and stop us, you know. Not even within living memory. I was but newly joined when [Lynette] fled the Church, and Maxwell had her silenced. But I remember her brute of a husband. He fed the beast for us, you know, when first he believed [Lynette] might still be saved. Then, later, we faithful served as his fuel to banish it. But, not for long. That’s the thing about Darkness, isn’t it? You try your hardest to eradicate, flood your surroundings with light, but it’s always there at the edges – waiting for the glow to weaken, to return and cover you forever. Robert Montauk discovered that the hard way.

(And in return: Manuela mentioned that Darvish had “crossed a Montauk, which has… traditionally gone poorly for us.”, which was an allusion to Julia and was covered by the story she told Jon in MAG109.)

Why Robert Montauk did what he did and what happened to her mother could still be elements that Julia would be interested to know. (Or… not anymore, because she tried to leave that life behind her, but… still, I have trouble picturing that it would be a coincidence that she would be back right after Jon&Basira heard that story.)

* … I’m especially worried about Melanie, since her “connection” to Trevor&Julia is that… they burned down the Ivy Meadows care home, including what was left of Melanie’s father:

(MAG036, Nicole Baxter) “I turned and began to sprint back towards my car. I had to get away, to get out. Then, without warning, I felt something heavy hit me in the side and I lost my footing, falling to the ground. I looked up to see an old man pinning me to the ground, his long, white beard matted and filthy. I screamed and tried to escape, but his age seemed to have done nothing to diminish his strength, and he kept his grip easily. Then he spoke in a thick Mancunian accent and told me to keep my voice down. I noticed that his skin was unblemished pink, and behind him stood a young woman, tall and lean with close-cropped hair and a deep scar over her right eye. She carried a large canvas bag, and was shaking her head, telling the old man to leave me alone. After a few suspicious glances, he got up. I could swear I recognised him from somewhere, but when I asked the two of them who they were, they just shook their heads and told me to leave. I asked them what was going on, and the old man looked at his companion, as if asking permission, said something about knowledge being a good defence here. She shook her head and said that leaving quickly was a better one. I didn’t need to be told a third time. I got in my car, and I left them to their work. I didn’t turn around even when I saw the smoke start to rise behind me.”

[…] ARCHIVIST: The Ivy Meadows Care Home in Woodley was officially decommissioned in July 2011, a month before the first of these alleged calls came in. It burned down on the 4th of September that same year after a leaking gas main caught fire.

(MAG106) ELIAS: Your father was your last real anchor, wasn’t he? [STATIC RISES.] MELANIE: That’s none of your business. ELIAS: Perhaps. Five years is plenty of time to grieve. It’s a real tragedy, isn’t it – dementia? Oh, especially so early. But he always remembered you, didn’t he? “Little moth”. MELANIE: Shut. up. ELIAS: At least, you got him into a decent care home. Hard to afford on an irregular income like yours, but… your mother’s life-insurance helped plenty. And Ivy Meadows wasn’t as expensive as some of them! It’s a shame, about the fire. But I’d have thought it would offer something of a relief. MELANIE: Wh–what are you talking about…? ELIAS: Oh. Of course. They told you he died in his sleep, didn’t they? Smoke inhalation. A real tragedy, but at least he didn’t suffer. MELANIE: I… ELIAS: Do you want to know what really killed him? [STATIC RISES] MELANIE: [SHOCKED INHALE] [RAGGED BREATHING] [TAPE RECORDER HISSING] ELIAS: Awful, isn’t it? He really suffered. Not… really your fault, just bad luck. MELANIE: [RAGGED BREATHING TURNING INTO SOBS] ELIAS: That doesn’t comfort you, does it?

And I have no idea how Melanie will take that news. Able to remain stable and/or to decide that it may have been a mercy-kill? Refusing to feel any gratitude-adjacent feeling towards then, since they did it as Hunters (so, not to save innocents or to put the residents out of their suffering… but because there were monsters to kill)? Anger and resentment at what they did? (Would Melanie team up with them if it’s about tracking down Amherst…?)

- … So, Julia and Trevor just Got Inside Of The Institute Like That, and violence’d Jon, and would have gone for the kill if Daisy hadn’t stepped in:

(MAG153) TREVOR: Gotta say, I’m disappointed. Genuinely thought you were different. But you’re just another monster. Not even worth the chase…! JULIA: You want the honours, old man. TREVOR: Don’t mind if I do~! JULIA: [CHUCKLES] TREVOR: [CHUCKLES] DAISY: [FAR] Get away from him.

……………….. So, once again: pETER.

(S4 trailer) MARTIN: … Yeah. Yeah, I know. [PAUSE] I’m, er… I’m actually with him now. [SNIFFING] You were right. [PAUSE] … yeah. Yeah, I know. [LONG INHALE] I… [EXHALE] … Will they be safe? [PAUSE] … Okay… [INHALE] Okay! I’ll do it. Yeah. Sure thing.

(MAG126) PETER: Martin, this is what we agreed. After The Flesh attacked, you came to me. MARTIN: [SIGH] PETER: And I’ve held up my end of the bargain, despite your continued hesitation. Your friends have been largely untroubled by the many – many – enemies that they have made. MARTIN: What about the delivery guy? Breekon. And the coffin? PETER: Was that its name? To be honest with you, I thought it was dead. MARTIN: You thought wrong. PETER: True enough. And as soon as I learned it was here, I moved to intervene, but, well. It turns out I wasn’t really needed. And as far as the coffin goes, there’s not much I can do about a bull-headed Archivist– MARTIN: [EXPLOSIVE EXHALE] PETER: –who seems hellbent on self-destruction. My powers only extend so far. […] As I said, one of the last shreds of the Circus delivered a gateway into Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe. I went to help, but was too late. Then, your detective friend– MARTIN: No, she’s not a dete– PETER: –went on one of Elias’s wild-goose chases, then Jon wilfully hurled himself into the coffin. I did not intervene, because thankfully, I did not agree to protect your friends from their own idiocy.

(MAG142) MARTIN: … Anyway. So, what’s this field trip they’re on? DAISY: They, uh… they didn’t tell you? MARTIN: [DRY CHUCKLE] No, I… What. … [QUICKLY] Daisy, where have they gone? DAISY: You know that town in Norway? MARTIN: What? I… Wai– Wh–what?! You don’t mean Ny-Ålesund? DAISY: Yyyeah. They reckon there’s a ritual they need to, you know… MARTIN: Yeah, but Peter didn’t even men–…! [OPENS DRAWERS, SHUFFLES THROUGH THINGS] I don’t believe this! DAISY: Sorry. Shouldn’t have said anything. MARTIN: No, no, it’s… thank you, I just… [CLOSES DRAWER] For God’s sake, can he not stay safe for like, for like ten minutes?!

(MAG151) MARTIN: How honest has he been with me? SIMON: About which part? MARTIN: Protecting the others. SIMON: I think he tried. I suspect he may have slightly exaggerated his abilities when you first made the deal, but he certainly expended a reasonable amount of influence and resources to follow through. MARTIN: But… [EXPLOSIVE SIGH] But that was never the endgame, was it? He just wanted me on side long enough to rope me into his… his plans for The Extinction.

1°) I doubt that we’ll get to hear Martin learning about Julia&Trevor’s irruption in the Archives on tape, but PLEASE, I WANT TO HEAR HIS SHRIEKS WHEN HE DOES…

2°) We’re more likely to hear him explode in Peter’s face about it, though.

3°) That is, if Peter doesn’t flee into The Lonely forever to escape Martin’s wrath. Jokes aside: I don’t think that Martin will be surprised, at this point, because Simon has now confirmed to him that… Peter isn’t as strong/useful as a defender as he claimed. And this probably won’t be a game-changer for Martin… unless it pushes him to press Peter to unfold The Plan already, at last, because the longer they wait, the longer Jon and the others are kept vulnerable.

(… Though: they should still be defenceless, whether Martin&Peter’s plan(s) succeed or not? Peter promised their safety, however… was he referring to extending his own protection to them (because we now have confirmation that that deal was mostly a scam), or because Martin would become something else and/or trigger something that could keep them safe in the long run…?)

- … Meanwhile, Elias had suggested another “defender” to Basira:

(MAG127) BASIRA: … So why am I here? What do you want that’s so important you needed to tell me to my face? ELIAS: I believe you’ve recently lost Melanie. BASIRA: … We saved Melanie. ELIAS: As a person, yes, but as a defender… I would have thought you would want all the help you could get, or… have you forgotten what happened last time you lay your guard down? BASIRA: … We’ll work it out. ELIAS: Possibly. Then again: you are beset by enemies on all sides, Basira. And unless you expect Jon to record them into submission, it would seem you’re in rather dire need of another option. BASIRA: … And you just happen to have one. ELIAS: I might have an idea, yes. BASIRA: And what does it cost? ELIAS: Just some of your time, Basira. Just your time.

(MAG135) BASIRA: Like hell you don’t! Every lead, a dead end. Every contact, vanished or dead. I’ve spent three weeks bouncing all over the globe on your bad intel, because you said there was a way to bring Daisy back. ELIAS: There was. It required you to be absent. BASIRA: [EXPLOSIVE EXHALE] You wanted him to go in there. ELIAS: And you would never have allowed it, had you been present. BASIRA: Why? ELIAS: Would you simply believe I wanted you and Daisy reunited? BASIRA: No.

… and did he mean Jon (who would have developed his powers further), or Daisy, in the end? Directly post-coffin, Basira had been absolutely disappointed in Daisy’s state:

(MAG133) BASIRA: Yeah, I just… I didn’t realise she’d change into someone who… can’t look after herself. ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] BASIRA: Even without the muscle atrophy. ARCHIVIST: You were hoping for a defender. BASIRA: I was hoping for someone I can trust to share the load. Because right now, it’s all on me. ARCHIVIST: [SLOC EXHALES] It doesn’t have to be. BASIRA: Hm. ARCHIVIST: You’re not happy she is back. BASIRA: I didn’t say that, Jon. I would never abandon Daisy and, having her back is… [SIGH] But right now, she’s dead weight. And I need to be able to travel light.

But Daisy is proving that she’s still… kicking a bit, indeed. Or at least enough to chase away Julia&Trevor despite her, uh, current state:

(MAG153) DAISY: [FAR] Get away from him. JULIA: Oh… TREVOR: What’s this…? You got yourself a watchdog? JULIA: Well, more of a lapdog…! Scrawny, isn’t she? DAISY: [MENACINGLY] I said get back…! TREVOR: Malnourished, I’d say. How long since you last tasted blood? DAISY: [SHARP BREATHING] JULIA: You think you can take us both~? DAISY: … I’d enjoy it. Start with the old bastard – he’s slower, doesn’t guard his neck. And you worry about him too much, don’t you? I go for him, you get sloppy, predictable. […] TREVOR: [SHAKING SIGH] … Come on, Julia. JULIA: What?! TREVOR: There’s no rush. [CHORTLING] We’ve got all the time in the world. Besides… this place is just full of monsters. She can’t guard ’em all. JULIA: [PANTING] … Fine. DAISY: [GROWLS] [DOOR SLAMMED CLOSE]

I’m not absolutely sure whether the final growl was hers or Trevor’s and/or Julia’s, but, in any case, GODS, I love how Daisy has turned fiercely protective of her idiot Archivist.

- And at the same time, I’m heartbroken over Daisy but IN A GOOD WAY because I… was really fearing that she might have gone back to hunting behind the tapes’ back. But no. It’s… “just” that not Hunting is slowly killing her:

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: Are you alright? DAISY: [BREATHLESS] Don’t touch me. ARCHIVIST: Christ, he was right, I, I didn’t… When did you get so thin? DAISY: I’m not, it’s fine. ARCHIVIST: … It’s The Hunt, isn’t it? Without it– DAISY: I’m fine. Just haven’t been hungry. I’m strong enough. ARCHIVIST: Clearly. DAISY: They’re not gone yet. We could still get them. [CLOTHES SHUFFLING] ARCHIVIST: Daisy, no. It’s like you say. “Don’t listen to the blood.” DAISY: [SLOWER BREATHES] … “Listen to the quiet”…

… And I wasn’t expecting Jon to spontaneously remind her not to Chase. To respect what Daisy had been fighting for, although he tried to argue with her overall decision shortly after. Gods, so with Melanie going on an Eye-strike, Jon not taking live-statements anymore, and Daisy being slowly killed by (the lack of) The Hunt… current Team Archives is slowly crumbling, and how long can it truly last…? Unless they find a way to temper the effects, or get better after a very bad period…?

- Also, no wonder Melanie and Daisy were getting closer, aaaah!! Same mindset of choosing death over feeding/getting fed by a Dread Power… with some nuances between the two: I’d say that Melanie’s stance feels more… ethical, after all (she didn’t want to contribute to The Fears’ system), while Daisy’s is really about doing things on her terms and not letting anything control her anymore? Although, as she pointed out, she is aware of the fact that she herself used to be involved in a (non-spooky, still very harmful) system and to be protected by it:

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: Even so, if it’s having this much of an effect on you– DAISY: I’m not going back. I can’t let it in again. ARCHIVIST: But it– … What if it kills you? DAISY: [CHORTLE] Always said I was dedicated to justice…! ARCHIVIST: Daisy! It’s not… You can’t think like that. DAISY: Jon. Do you have any idea how much damage you can do if you’re a police officer who wants to hurt people? How much the system will protect you? [SHARP INHALE FROM JON] I managed to keep most of it from Basira, but…

(Well, despite Daisy’s attempts to hide it from her, Basira did know at the very least about Daisy illegally killing “monsters”. Basira wasn’t Perfectly Pure And Innocent when it came to condoning it, either.)

- I’m love Daisy, I love how frank she is about what she did, the fact that it was her… and also, that she decided she wouldn’t condone those things anymore ;;

(MAG142) MARTIN: It’s alright. Wasn’t you. [INHALE] Not really. DAISY: No, it was. I hate… a lot of what I did back then; doesn’t mean I’m not… responsible for it, doesn’t mean it… wasn’t me.

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: That wasn’t you, that was The Hunt! DAISY: … [SIGH] We were the same. [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: … You’d never known anything different. [SILENCE] DAISY: Because I never wanted to.

… And she’s also, implicitly, throwing what Jon Taught Her at his face:

(MAG121) OLIVER: I made a choice. We all made choices. Now, you have to– […] Make your choice, Jon.

(MAG132) DAISY: I hurt… a l–lot of people… and some who… who I shouldn’t have. Did you ever hear the, the story Elias told me? About what I did. How I am… He, he didn’t get a detail wrong. The Hunt… Hunger was in me all my life. Telling me who to chase, how to hurt them. I never needed to think… who I was outside of that. But down here, where I… I can’t hear the… blood anymore, I d–, I don’t… I don’t know who I am without, without the chase… I just know… that I… I don’t like who I was back outside. I don’t want to be her again. I want… to be… better… [PANTS] Y–you know what I thought wh–when I woke up here? I thought this was hell; I wa–, I was dead, and within hell. And I… eh, I–I knew I deserved it… I don’t want t–to be a s–sadistic predator again… I–I don’t want to… hobble around, like some pathetic, wounded prey either… I don’t know which would be worse. And I’m sc–scared, now, that I’ll never get the choice… ARCHIVIST: One thing I’ve learned, Daisy, is that we all get a choice. Even if it doesn’t feel like one.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: My– [PAUSE] [INHALE] [SIGH] My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I… I don’t know if I made the right decision; I–I’m stronger now, tougher, I can… … If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever… I don’t know if that’s a bad thing.

(MAG153) DAISY: All that time trapped was good for one thing: thinking. And I did a lot of it. I’ve made my choice. ARCHIVIST: Okay…! So what do we do when they come back? DAISY: I don’t know.

(Jon… you threw out so many encouraging words but still didn’t follow through on them yourself, uh? Because meanwhile, he had already attacked two people, and was trying to convince himself that he was being manipulated/pushed into doing it without having a say in it…)

And Jon Trying To Argue Hurt A Lot, because it’s very obvious that he’s projecting / seeing himself in her? He was eight when he encountered Mr. Spider’s book. Daisy was eleven when she met something (Slaughter woman?) who turned Calvin Benchley against her; indeed, she’s “never known anything else”, and it shaped her as a person (she became “Daisy” because of the scar the experience left her with). So, if Daisy, who has taken a stance (to stop being a Hunter and hurt people), were to decide that in the end, it’s too painful, it’s not worth it… maybe Jon thinks that he wouldn’t feel too bad about doing the same?

But no, Daisy is still saying that it’s not worth going back to her patron and hurting people, stripping Jon of that excuse and possibility right away. I still have no idea whether Jon will take inspiration from Melanie&Daisy, but… whatever he chooses in the end, we’ve had prime demonstrations that it’d indeed be his own choice – not the Web manipulating him, not Beholding replacing by something else, not the “ineluctability” of becoming a careless or ruthless monster, just his own personal decision to hurt rather than be hurt.

So; I still have no idea, I still feel like only Martin is the only one who can make things go forwards at the moment, but also, lots of plot threads are accumulating to just… explode at the same time and make a carnage.

MAG153’s title is Magnificent in its simplicity and… evocations. So. Could be a Slaughter thing, with a mix of Team Archives (/Daisy) getting wasted, but obviously, it puts Mary Keay and The End to mind. Though I don’t know what else we could get about Mary? Jon hasn’t said anything about running out of the stash of Gertrude’s tapes from Elias’s office, so it… could be one of them again (last one was MAG145, Gertrude&Arthur) – Gertrude talking with Ended!Mary after having invoked her page? Something from Eric Delano (in written form, or a recording with Gertrude while he was alive or dead) about his ~lovely wife~?

#X_X #2 #3 #4 #5 #the magnus archives #mag153 #tma liveblog #tma season 4 #long post/

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meshugana1 · 7 years ago

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Could you turn me into an attractive maid? My friends keep making fun of me about how I'm single because of my looks, my shy and timid personality. Plus, I need a job to pay off a bunch of debts.

My breath grew cold and heavy in my lungs like I had inhaled a block of ice. The center of the room felt like it was dangerous all of a sudden and every cell in my body screamed for me to avoid it. I couldn’t though, this was about personal growth. I wanted to slap myself but that would look really weird. Come on, come on, you can do this Jack. You’re the man, this is easy as pie. The scene played out before me. I had unconsciously crossed my arms as a woman asked a seated man about airfare to the Bermuda triangle. “What do ya want air rates for? We don’t even know if there’s no airports there anyway,” the travel agent said.“Well yes but ships always go missing in there,” she said.“Yeah, but we at least know there’s a couple docks so it’s probably safer.”“Probably? How often do ships go missing there?”“All the time. Every ship we send never comes back.” Come on Jack, jump in.“If no ships ever come back how does your company have such positive reviews?”“Well, no one’s come back to give us a bad one.” The crowd surrounding the pair chuckle and laugh, all but me. I’m still too nervous, a million lines and ideas are all competing in my head and it’s all too much. I’m sure a vein is throbbing somewhere in my head.

“Hey man, I thought you said you’d get up there tonight? I’m bummed I didn’t get to see you freeze up in front of everybody,” Alan said. He was the lovable asshole that first suggested I come with him to his improve class to ‘break out of my shell’. I was perfectly fine in it, but it still got lonely. It was over nine years since my last girlfriend, and I’m not even sure how that one happened. “Sorry, I just got a little sidetracked thinking of what to say,” I said as I popped two Tylenol to squash the headache I gave myself. “That’s the fuckin problem dude, you don’t have to think in improve. You just do, ya know?” I didn’t know in fact. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t take a weekend off to plan out all the conversations I was going to have the following week. I was always just so scared of saying the wrong thing. “I’ll try better next time, I need to get to my night job or that dick boss of mine is gonna fire me.”“Ya know, I’ve heard you call him dick, asshole, fuckhead, motherfucker, cocksucker, pissant, and douce, but I don’t think I heard his name yet.”“Yeah, I may not like it but I really need the money. I have those student loans I took out remember?” This made Alan laugh, way harder than I thought was necessary. “Oh yeah, you were all set for a law degree and you got kicked out like the first day cause you called some woman ‘the most fuckable MILF you ever saw’.”“Yeah.”“And who did she turn out to be, again?”“The dean, alright? She was the dean.” Alan laughed so hard I thought he was actually choking. Part of me wished he would.

I waited for Alan to recompose himself, he was the only one of us who could afford a car. I scanned the dimly lit hallway of the rec center. Looking for anything that could take my mind off my friend’s enjoyment of my situation. I saw a worn out cork board on the opposite wall lined with various ads. Better than listening to him choke on my misery. One said there was a snowmobile trailer in like new condition for sale, only $8500. Another advertised an old woman’s piano class, three times a week for only ten dollars a lesson. That was actually pretty good. A bright pink one hidden beneath a wanted poster from 1993 proclaimed the need for a groundskeeper at a country estate and offered to pay a hundred dollars an hour plus room and board. “What!?”

A hundred friggin dollars an hour? I work a total eighteen hours a day between both my jobs and I barely bring home three hundred a week! “What’s wrong?” Alan said.“This lady want’s to pay someone a hundred dollars an hour to mow her lawn and stuff!”“No way, let me see,” Alan said grabbing the flyer from me. “Oh dude, that’s that old Haderly place like five miles outside town.”“So?”“Dude, she like a shut-in. But from what I hear she’s a total babe and makes all her money from doing cam shows online. No way you can work for a woman like that.”“Wow, I’m not used to hearing you so mature Alan.”“What? No, you can’t work for her cause you’re shy, short, and um, a homely guy. She’s not gonna want to hire you. She probably wants some super stud around to ogle at and get her in the mood. Sounds like a job for me!” Now it was my turn to laugh. He might have had a little nugget of a point, but he wasn’t exactly much better looking than me.“Don’t you dare. If anyone needs this job I do. You make plenty of money at your job.”“Not a hundred fucking dollars an hour. Don’t worry, when I’m loaded and she and I start dating we’ll let you live in the attic or something,” he said with a smile.

It was an expensive Uber ride out to the property, but one hours wages from this lady would pay it back and more. It was early, the sunrise only just began to blind me as I walked down the path to the house. My fingers traced along the flyer as I walk, I would have called but there was no phone number on it, just this address. The air was so clean and filled with moisture I could hardly believe it. And the yard was nothing less than colossal. I had no idea there were even yards like this in the area. It looked like you had to measure it in acres. It took me nearly thirty minutes to walk it straight down the middle, no wonder the salary was so high, this was a full-time job. I was finally close enough to make out the detail on the ornate wooden doors when I saw another door at the side of the house open wide and a man stepped out. He was huge, built like a brick house and wore a really tight white shirt and jeans combo. He raised a Panama hat to his head and looked over the property with a steely gaze. Was this guy the lady’s husband? Not a second later did he reach back and grab a shovel and rake from the same doorway. Oh shit, was he a groundskeeper? Am I too late? Fuck, no wait. This place is huge, maybe she needs two? Oh please god need two, the ride back is gonna kill my wallet.

The closer I get the more beautiful the house looks. This might actually be an old plantation home. That would make sense given the size of the yard. I can tell it’s solidly built as I step on the porch. Not a single creak or grown from the wood at all. I take a second before I knock on the door to check my appearance. My shirt is tucked, my shoes are clean, and my hair feels good. Ok, you’ve reversed this a hundred times since last night. Knock on the door, she answers. I say hello and offer a handshake, not too firm. We exchange names, I ask about the job. She asks my qualifications, can’t be too complicated for yard work. She either says yes or no, shake hands again and say thank you. Then I go home and wait for the call. Easy. I turn to knock on the door only find it already open, with a very beautiful woman laying against the doorframe.

“And how can I help you young man?” she said. Her hair was a light brown color, accented with thin streaks of white. Her face looked beautiful despite light evidence of aging. He skin was still tight, but there was the odd wrinkle here and there. She wore a burgundy silk robe that failed completely at masking her impressive figure. Her hips made waves in her robe as they rested on the bawdy flesh. She looked like an ex-playboy bunny. “Young man? How can I help you?” she said. I hadn’t realized but her sudden appearance had thrown me off. “Oh, um, well,” I said. I fumbled with my hands trying to produce the slip for her. “I, well I was hoping that you could maybe hire me as a gardener. I mean the groundskeeper job,” oh god. I totally fucked this up. She had a questioning look on her face as she grabbed the flyer. “Well first off if you’re begging for a job you should probably lead with your name.”“Right, it’s Jack. I mean I’m Jack,” goddamnit Jack, you totally fucked up.“Thank you, Jack, my name is Irene Haderly. Secondly, I’m sorry to say that I filled that position over two years ago. This is just an old flyer, you probably already saw my groundskeeper, Samson, this morning. He’s more than enough for the property. What I really need right now is a maid. My last one quit about a month ago and it kills my knees cleaning this place by myself. So unless you want that job I can’t really help you.”

I knew it was too good to be true. I never catch any breaks, I’m gonna be in debt for the rest of my goddamn life. But as she turned her back to me I felt this little ball of white-hot anger in my stomach grow. I was pissed at everything. My shitty apartment, my negative bank account, my stupid shyness, and it just sort of exploded. “Does the maid job pay just as well?!” I said. God, even angry I’m pathetic. But my whiny ejaculation seemed to peak her interest. “It does, actually. Even better, one-fifty an hour plus room and board. You would be expected to live here while you’re employed by me, and there is an appearance code that needs to be followed, are you up for that?” It was even better than I hoped, except for the appearance code. “Um, you’re not going to make me crossdress, are you?” Hell for that much money I wouldn’t even mind. “No, no. Nothing like that. You would, of course, need to sign an agreement, I lose maids so often I would just feel better if you made a commitment to working and living here. Would six months be alright with you?” Six months? At one-fifty an hour? With no expenses? “Could we make it a year? That sounds great!”

I followed her inside and boy it looked awesome. It was the first time in my life I had an occasion to use the word opulence. I followed her down a naturally lit hallway, the sunlight blinding me on more than one occasion until we reached her office. She removed a simple looking brass key from her robe, it looked kinda heavy but I don’t remember seeing its outline in her clothing. “Now, other than tending to your duties, the only rule of the house is that you are never allowed in this office unless accompanied by me. Is that clear?”“Yes, ma’am.” That’s a pretty easy rule to follow. She handed me a fairly wordy looking piece of paper and told him where to sign. I had finally dotted the last I and crossed the last T, “Alright, ma’am, I think I’m done.” She smiled in a very loving way. “Perfect, now we just need to get your appearance up to snuff, follow me,” she said. This was the most nerve-wracking part. Was she actually going to make me crossdress? She said no but the thought was still chipping away at me.

I was both happy and confused when she lead me instead of her closet to a side room in her office. It looked like a pantry filled with mason jars. It looked like they were filled with various spices, maybe she made her money with some artisanal spice company. But why bring me here? She looked like she carefully considered each jar, then she reached up and grabbed a small one and dumped the contents into her hand. She brought her hands together and rubbed the spice into her hands repeatedly. She brought her hands close to her mouth as she rubbed and it seemed like she was whispering into it. “Now, this is going to feel a little weird but don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit.”

What? She lifted her palm to my face and blew the dusty spice in my face before I could ask what she meant. I coughed violently as the powder flew down my throat and into my eyes. “What the hell was that!?” I said trying to rub the powder from my face, oddly enough though, she was right in that it didn’t hurt at all. “Sorry, I thought you read the contract? This was all explicitly stated.” I was about to tell her that nothing in there said anything about getting sand blown in my face, but all that came out was slurred speech. My knees were getting weak too. I didn’t feel any pain at all. But it was like I could feel the little bits of powder burrowing into my body. My vision got really fuzzy but I could feel everything so much clearer. I could feel really big, powerful hands grab my shoulder and cradle me in even more powerful arms. I knew we were walking but I didn’t know where until I was placed on a bed. It felt like little tacks all over my body just scratching the surface of my skin. It was heavenly.

My whole body felt like the head of my dick when I masturbated. I tried to reach down for my cock but my whole body felt like jelly. Then after what felt like an eternity, it started to die down. I could finally feel how heavy I was breathing and it was like a had weights on my chest. My back was arched somewhat awkwardly too, but overall I just felt a bit out of sorts. My vision was still cloudy, like my contact lenses had fallen out. Without them, I could barely see a foot in front of my face, but I could make out the shapes of two people on the opposite side of the room. One was Ms. Haderly, but the other one took a little thinking before I could recognize Samson’s broad shoulders. “Finally awake I see, well good. You woke up a lot faster than some of the others.”“Woke up? Did you drug me or something? This isn’t some kinda kinky snuff thing you have right? Please tell me it’s not.”“Don’t be silly, you just had to be altered to fit the appearance requirement, and you turned out pretty great too If I do say so myself.” What was she talking about, turned out great? Oh shit, this was totally like the human centipede. In a moment of cinema-induced paranoia, I reached a hand behind me and, for a brief moment, fully expected to feel the face of some other poor guy who got caught in her trap. I did end up grabbing a lot more flesh than I usually did, but it wasn’t someone else’s face.

It was my own ass, but it felt gigantic. My bottom was, at its apex, a boney little thing that only by the most generous definitions could be called an ass. This thing I had my hand digging into though, this was a real ass. It was curved, meaty, springy and pretty responsive to touch. I could feel the blood rushing all sorts of places as I fondled my way to understanding. Unconsciously my thighs rubbed together, and when they did I noticed a distinct lack of testicular pressure when I did that though. I wasn’t alone in the room but I really had to be sure. With my free hand I reach to my crotch I closed my eyes and uttered one last prayer and tried to grab my dick. Instead, my palm slaps into a flat, slick, cleft.

I’m not some super macho guy, so being emasculated wasn’t exactly earth-shattering to me but who wouldn’t start freaking out after losing something so important? Other than my ass and my chest my body felt so light and wispy. I felt a rising nervous energy in my toes and I started bouncing on my heels. Ms. Haderly moved to my side quickly. “Now I know this is a shock, I would be pretty flustered too. But let me just explain what’s going on, okay? Samson, why don’t you leave us to some girl time?” He didn’t say anything as he turned around and left. I still teetered on the edge of a meltdown, but if she did this to me she was the only one who could undo it. So I just listened.

“You have probably guessed already but I’m something like a witch. And you may not believe me but this was all spelled out in that contract, and I wasn’t kidding about the pay scale. Every hour you live here you’ll make one-hundred and fifty dollars, now a young guy like you probably needs cash like that. And this is only for a year. Now do the math, 24 hours a day at one-fifty an hour, you’ll be a millionaire by then.” That stopped me in my tracks. That was so much money it was crazy. “Why do I have to be a girl though?” “That’s just the way the magic works. Aside from the looks, which are much improved by the way, it also comes with the knowledge of how to execute your duties. That and, well let’s just say the job comes with some really great benefits,” she said. Her nails glided along my thigh, and her hand reached and grabbed what I assumed to be one of my breasts. I hope that’s what it was because I still couldn’t see well, and they felt amazing to be held. She moved in closer and kissed me. Her much larger chest pressed into mine and her tongue darted around my mouth. When she separated I didn’t need my glasses to make out the sultry face she was giving me as she licked her lips. “So, what do you think?”

She led me to my room a half an hour later, it was towards the front of the house on its left side. The room was directly beside Samson’s it seemed. When I stepped in, from what little I could make out, it was huge. It looked bigger than my crappy studio by three times. She guided me over to a bed and for a second I thought we were going to resume what she started upstairs, but instead, she told me to get dressed and start going through the list of chores. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised by the uniform she wanted me to wear. It looked like a sexy french maid’s costume, but the thing I was excited about was the glasses on top of the pile of silky clothes. I wasted no time or thought in putting them on, and oddly enough they were my exact prescription. The room instantly became clear and I took in its full rustic splendor. A room like this in the city would cost no less than six thousand a month, and it was mine for just the cost of my cock and balls.

I was nervous as I crept into the hallway in my new uniform, but not nearly as much as I expected or was accustomed to. This was the most flesh I had ever had exposed while still being dressed. My legs were encased in the thinnest white fabric stockings I could have imagined. The air passed right through and stroked my legs as if they were naked. My heels actually confused me in his easy I took to walking in them. They were over five inches tall, and at first glance, I had no idea how I could walk in them without undergoing training. But as my feet slipped into them it felt just like riding a bicycle, and not once did I even buckle in the slightest. The bra and panties went on in much the same way, but the feel of the silk underwear still caused a blush across my body. They were tight and the panties clung to my new sex, creating a slight camel toe. The bra seemed like it was intended to make my, really rather impressive, chest pop and call attention to itself. There I stood, dressed only in my new underwear and heels, like a lot of porn I had watched, with a chest that begged to be touched. I really wanted to, like really really. But Ms. Haderly had given me a list of chores to get to, and if she could do this to me to help my work go easier, then I really didn’t want to picture what she could do when she was mad.

My incredibly short skirt bounced as I walked the halls and cleaned the rooms, with a feather duster no less. The house was kept mostly immaculate and only required light upkeep. Still, the house was large and the sun was setting by the time I had finished. I had been required to make Ms. Haderly both lunch and dinner, now I hadn’t made much more than Kraft mac n’ cheese for the last few years, but as I entered the kitchen I flitted about like a master chef. Before I knew it I had made her a hearty seafood salad for lunch, and that evening I made her a two-course meal, a simple Caprese salad and a roast beef for the main course. She even praised the meal, saying it was simply delicious. I had no idea magic could make someone so effective at something so complicated.

Not only the cooking was different, but I seemed to have an intimate knowledge of the layout of the house, and my own timetable, and well…I seemed to just do everything in the sexiest possible way. I don’t think I ever bent my knees once the whole day, always at the waist and displaying my round ass to whoever was lucky enough to be behind me. My walk was punctuated with a side to side thrust of my hips with every step. Whenever I was in Ms. Haderly’s presence I always had my hands clasped in front of my stomach, which squeezed my breasts together making them look even larger. Honestly, I didn’t mind as much as I would’ve as a guy. I wasn’t good looking, not hardly, but now I was hot. Like really hot, and I kinda loved flaunting it. The sun was finally gone and as I returned to my sizable room, I ran into the groundskeeper Samson as he returned to his.

I had never actually been introduced to him. A few times I saw him through the windows as I cleaned them, he mostly didn’t wear a shirt all day. That was concerning me. Normally I would be jealous of his intense physical fitness, he was as big as Schwarzenegger and as toned as Bruce Lee. I was jealous that I didn’t have his body, just not in the way I normally would be. He still didn’t have a shirt on and his body glistened with sweat and his tanned chest and face were planted with small, light patches of dirt and dust. “Oh, nice to see you awake. I’m Samson. So I guess you’re staying then?” he says. His rock solid arm reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. His body is so toned I can see each individual muscle move when he shifts his weight. “Y..yeah, it’s really good money, ya know?” My thighs rubbed together absentmindedly, feeling much hotter than I thought they should. “Yeah, that’s what drew me here a few years ago. What was your name again?” he said.“It’s Jack, but you can call me Jaclyn if you think it sounds better,” I said, blushing harder than I had for a long time. “That’s a pretty name, suits you much better now. It’ll take some getting used to though believe me,” he said.“Wait, did she…?” I said.“Yup, two years ago. My name was Samantha, if you can believe it,” he said. I very easily could. I moved my hands behind my back and took a few steps forward, hips rolling with each step. “So, did she change everything on you too?”

Not five minutes later I was thrown on my bed as he used his powerful muscles to strip me bare. I undid his denim jeans with my teeth and his hard cock slapped against my face, the heat of his solid manhood made my glasses fog up. We were just about to get into it when we heard a that clear near the door. It was Ms. Haderly, dressed in the same robe from this morning. I was horny as hell but nervous, terrified I had broken some unknown rule. “You naughty, little servants should know better. You need to wait for your mistress before getting started.” She stepped forward and her robe slid off revealing her still tight and erotic naked body. She joined me on the bed and began to lick and tease Samson’s cock. Her hand was pawing at my supple ass. It was then that I had made up my mind, this was the best job ever.

The end. Hope Y’all like it!

#gender-bender #male to female #MTF #maid tf #request

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hope-for-olicity · 7 years ago

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Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - October 20th, 2017

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them.

The Life They Knew multi-chapter by @bytemegeekette - AU - Olicity - Felicity loved watching the happy life that her best friend had built for herself. Oliver watched his best friend reach every milestone he himself feared. An unexpected tragedy thrusts their lives together in a way neither could imagine. Could they over come their hate for each other to help fulfill the last wishes of their best friends. Loosely inspired by the movie 'Life as We Know It http://archiveofourown.org/works/4944559/chapters/11349703

May I Be Your Shield multi-chapter by @aussieforgood and @ghostfoxlovely - She could always tell him about her day. She could always tell him anything. Except she didn’t. The woman closest to him was keeping the biggest secret of all; a dark secret, a dangerous secret. Felicity Smoak is not safe, that much is true, but whether Oliver can save her from that is another matter. Sooner or later, we find out exactly how far we’ll go to protect the person we love most. http://archiveofourown.org/works/5721514/chapters/13182745

Time for a Story multi-chapter by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. http://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

Waiting by the Phone by @felicityollies - Oliver and Felicity have taken to having phone calls every night before bed. Some of them are steamier than others. https://archiveofourown.org/works/12351333

6x01 Post Episode Fic by @anthfan - What takes places right after the credits roll, Part 1: http://anthfan.tumblr.com/post/166373524542/6x01-post-ep-fic and Part 2: http://anthfan.tumblr.com/post/166569312432/post-6x01-fic-part-2

If Loving You Is Wrong (I Don't Want To Be Right) multi-chapter by @smkkbert - They live in a society where the Ministry for Procreation decides who you get to marry. Once you get the letter with the contact details of your partner, you are supposed to marry within few months. Sexual relationships with any other partner are forbidden, even before you receive the contact details. Everyone who disobeys that law will be punished brutally. Oliver and Nyssa have come to terms with that. Although they are married, Nyssa can secretly be with Sara, and Oliver can do whatever he wants to do. When Oliver decides to make changes, he falls madly in love with Felicity. Therefore, his life takes a pleasant turn because although they cannot publicly be together, at least they can be in secret. Things soon get complicated, though, when Felicity receives a letter that shall change her life. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11847900/chapters/26747613

Trust Me multi-chapter by @felicityollies - When a prostitute meets the perfect client, she has to remind herself that there’s no room for getting close to someone in her line of work. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8487226/chapters/22503983

Dear Hopeless by @wherethereissmoak - Through letters, Oliver and Felicity have a connection before they ever officially meet. This was written for ME! I'm beyond flattered!! IT IS A MUST READ!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/12369144

Zip by @someonesaidcake - Her dress has a zip. A zip that goes all....the....way....down. Set just before 6x01. That purple dress is stunning, gorgeous and Oliver has seen it before....https://archiveofourown.org/works/12370095

Finding Felicity by @lynn8828 - Because I still need to see this on the show…. 6x01 didn’t show us Oliver finding Felicity on Lian Yu and I was really looking forward to it. https://lynn8828.tumblr.com/post/166439559401/finding-felicity-because-i-still-need-to-see-this

(Don't) Let Me Go multi-chapter by @emmilynestill - Felicity told him to let her go, but even when Oliver tried, it didn’t seem to be something he was capable of. In the end, there would be nothing in the world Felicity was more grateful for. Weaving in and out of the final four episodes of Season 5 and beyond, follow Oliver and Felicity’s emotional journey back to one another, one step at a time. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11591223/chapters/26051715

I Just Need to Hear Your Voice by @alanna-the-lionheart - Coda to 6x01 (takes place at some point in the near future). In an attempt to slowly rebuild their relationship without complicating William’s life, Oliver and Felicity get in the habit of calling each other every night. Sometimes they watch TV together. Sometimes they discuss Team Arrow business. Most nights they just talk about their days. But then sometimes the nightmares come...and all they really want is to hear the other’s voice. This is one of those nights. http://archiveofourown.org/works/12368517

Our Version of Events multi-chapter by @machawicket and @geneeste - Action star Ollie Queen is trying to clean up his image and land parts that require him to do more than appear shirtless while fighting stuntmen. Pop star Felicity Smoak wants to be seen as an adult in time for the release of her new, grittier album. And talent manager John Diggle’s got an idea about what coverage of Oliver and Felicity’s brand new (and totally fake) romance could do for them both. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8025382/chapters/18375349

Little Flowers of Eloquence multi-chapter by @dettiot - After two bad relationships, Felicity Smoak has accepted that she’s not physically attractive to men. That doesn’t mean her life isn’t good, but her friends make her realize that something is missing. Something that might be fixed if she gives a chance to a certain newly-back-from-the-dead ex-playboy . . .https://archiveofourown.org/works/5783689/chapters/13329190

Why Don't Men Ever Listen? by @writewithurheart - AU Felicity tells Sara about an encounter with Ray Palmer and her Mystery Man. http://writewithurheart.tumblr.com/post/166452289044/birthday-prompt-why-dont-men-ever-listen

Between Love and Skate multi-chapter by @dettiot - After an injury ends his chances for a career in professional hockey, Oliver Queen doesn’t know what he’s going to do. And then he gets an offer to become a figure skater and partner with a beautiful, babbling blonde skater: Felicity Smoak. With a gold medal at the Olympics on the line, can love stick its landing? http://archiveofourown.org/works/3343235/chapters/7313252

Pieces of Always multi-chapter by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34 - Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows. Ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8220479/chapters/18840356

Radiate or Drain by @turtlejustice - Post 5x17 fic http://archiveofourown.org/works/12384441

Baby's First Salmon Ladder by @muslimsmoak - Little tommy queen inherited his father’s athleticism and that’s not a good thing. Especially when his mother felicity is trying to multitask managing the comms and watching her son in the bunker. http://archiveofourown.org/works/12382086

Shattered into Pieces multi-chapter by @diggo26 - Having to blow up the Foundry and last minute Oliver goes back in having forgot “something”…BUT it turned into a speculation/spoiler for 3x19 http://archiveofourown.org/works/3557969/chapters/7835702

South of the Equator multi-chapter by @charlinert - A young teacher from Boston will do anything in her power to ensure that her upliftment project goes ahead, when the ground of a small farm school is threatened to be sold to a buyer who has no interest in her project. Oliver Queen, movie director of Queen Studios volunteers to do a documentary on upliftment work in a small farm town to put as much distance as possible between women, love and his broken heart. Oliver and Felicity’s paths cross 9000 miles from home, when their worlds come crashing in the heart of Southern Africa. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11568378/chapters/25990497

Pink on Green: Why do you keep her around? by @sssssssim - Oliver overhears Laurel being mean to Felicity and has had enough http://archiveofourown.org/works/1414105/chapters/3743612

Nightmare by @geneshaven - Felicity joins Oliver and William for the evening. https://geneshaven.tumblr.com/post/166518679404/nightmare

Better Together by @adiwriting - Oliver and Felicity attend a middle school dance http://adiwriting.tumblr.com/post/166519844071/fic-better-together

Thursday multi-chapter by @someonesaidcake - There is something about the girl next door that Oliver Queen is only now noticing... Felicity is moving to college just down the road from where Oliver is a senior. He suddenly becomes very protective of the girl next door. Thursday night dinners might not ever be the same again. This story gets better and better! http://archiveofourown.org/works/10688658/chapters/23670255

Blood Hands multi-chapter by @dust2dust34 - When new Bratva business comes to Starling City, it brings Oliver’s past with the brotherhood into sharp, ugly focus. But when it strikes too close to home, endangering the one person he never wanted that darkness to touch, he finds out his and Felicity’s pasts are more tangled than he could have ever imagined. (Set between 2x06 and 2x07) http://archiveofourown.org/works/3628926/chapters/8013672

Love and Little Cupcakes multi-chapter by @xtina-lynn - Felicity loved sweets so much that she paid no attention to her love life. Until Thea Queen came into her store wanting fabulous cupcakes for her sixteenth birthday. http://archiveofourown.org/works/12400539/chapters/28216053

On-Call for Christmas by LoisLane89 - Short Christmas fic I forgot I wrote a while back and just found. - Felicity is working the emergency call line of the QC IT Department and gets called to her boss's house. http://archiveofourown.org/works/12407439

First Impressions multi-chapter by @entersomethingcleverhere - Modern Pride and Prejudice AU: “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young woman in possession of a great intellect must be in want of job that requires its use.” But Felicity Smoak seemed stuck in the quiet beach town of Hertfordshire forever. Will the handsome summer tourist and his snobby best friend save her from another season of boredom or will Oliver Queen’s stuck up attitude make Felicity want to strangle him before it’s even over? http://archiveofourown.org/works/6033276/chapters/13834785

What Might Happen by @dust2dust34 - 6x03 spoiler fic http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/166557840799/what-might-happen-is-this-felicity-stared

It's Going Down in Ivy Town by @jsevick - NSFW, Oliver and Felicity have fun in an Ivy Town hotel room.http://jsevick.tumblr.com/post/166582904437/just-reread-some-of-your-fever-dreams-smut-and

Oliver's Journal: November 1st, 2017 by @geneshaven - post 6x03 spoiler fic https://geneshaven.tumblr.com/post/166586483544/olivers-journal

// @almondblossomme // @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @quant-um-fizzx // @thebookjumper // @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 // @wrongshipper //

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

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skylarmoon71 · 4 years ago

Text

Harold Finch- (Person of Interest) -Oneshot

"Mr. Reese are you okay?" All Finch could hear was the rustling over the mic and a few grunts. A gunshot echoed and Finch jumped. "Just peachy Finch." Finch sighed. He was never one to condone violence, but it couldn't be avoided in this situation. "I'm carrying Rachael into police custody, let Carter know I'm on the way. " With that John logged off and Harold leaned back into his chair.

"Tough case." Your sudden entrance clearly startled him. He turned around with a displeased look. You just wore a half smile. "Did I scare you Harry?" you knew you did, it was just so fun sometimes. "I'd appreciate it if you and Ms. Shaw wore a bell to alert me of your presence. I'm certain I informed you that I dislike surprises."

"Didn't your supercomputer tell you I was coming, with the lack of privacy we all have I'd think you'd be able to keep track of me at least." you were just messing with him. You were a later asset to Finch's little superhero team. You were a detective in Carter's department. You'd caught her and Fusco assisting the notorious 'Man in the suit'. You were a bit stunned to say the least, since Carter had been tracking him for months.

Yet here she was helping him escape. That night you'd let them go, but stressed that they would tell you what was going on. The guy was a felon, a vigilante as well, but still a criminal in the eyes of the law. They explained thoroughly what they were doing, and you were skeptical at first, but after witnessing it first hand, you decided that maybe letting the mysterious man run around the city wasn't the worst thing that could happen. He was saving lives after all. And Carter was the most passionate and earnest cop in the department. If she had faith in him then you could too.

Under such circumstances, you began helping as well. Carter tried to persuade you otherwise, mainly because she wanted you to know that if you were ever caught it would be a definite trip to prison. She had no problem risking her career, but she didn't want to drag a bystander into the mix. You assured her that you could handle it, whatever the outcome. Nothing was more important than saving lives. It's why you became a cop. As the months pressed on you finally met the mystery man, John Reese. He was..well exactly what you expected. Standing in front of him was completely different than chasing him. He'd just shook your hand with a small smile and a subtle 'Welcome to the team.'

Pretty soon you met the rest of them. Shaw sort of scared you, but as time went on you started to get more comfortable with her. Root definitely freaked you out. But Carter assured you she was just maybe a little wonky. Very reassuring. Then there was Harold Finch. The brains behind the entire operation. He was a bit awkward at first, you could tell he probably wasn't completely sold on the idea of having you on board. At the beginning you thought he didn't trust you, but it was the complete opposite. Apparently he'd done his research on you, thoroughly. It wasn't so much he didn't trust, he just felt uneasy that he was now putting someone else's life in danger.

You managed to convince him that this was your choice, no one else's. And if it came down to it, whatever the outcome you'd take full responsibility. You weren't naive.

Ever since then the both of you were somewhat close. You felt comfortable with him, and you would have casual conversations every now and then. You'd also sneak up on him ever so often. You just loved his reactions. You'd be lying if you said you weren't attracted to the older man. There was just something about him that drew you in.

Plus you'd always had a thing for guys in glasses. You chuckled at your own thoughts and Finch raised an eyebrow in question. You flushed a little.

"So what are you guys working on today?" you tried to navigate the conversation in a different direction. Finch returned his focus to his computers. "Mr. Reese is taking Mrs. Keller into police custody. For the time being it's the best way to keep the mafia from getting her. Detective Carter has assured me she'll keep her safe until Ms. Shaw has apprehended the perpetrators. "

You nod. "That's good." Finch was still typing furiously at his computers.

"Might I ask what you're doing here, don't you have other engagements that require you attention?" His eyes were still stuck on the computers.

"I do, just came to drop this for you." you dumped the folder on his desk, Finch stopped his current task, opening the folder. He saw pictures and bank statements of the entire mafia organization. "

"The reason they're after her. Her husband was a part of their syndicate. He stole millions from them and stacked it away. When he passed away last year they went through his records. I'm sure you can guess how the boss took it when he found out his number two was skimming right from under his nose."

"I'm assuming he didn't take it well." Finch spoke sifting through the papers. "Bingo."

"Rachel inherited all of her husband's possessions. She's sitting on millions and she doesn't even know it." Finch looked satisfied with the information. You guessed he'd now thought of a plan to get the mafia off the woman's tail.

"You don't have to say it Finch, I already know I'm awesome." He let out a soft laugh at your words. "Thank you Ms. (L/N). Your help is always appreciated. " you pushed your hands into your pockets. "No need to thank me." Just like that he was back at his computers. You really should have left, you were still on duty.

The only reason you managed to slip by was because of your lunch break. Watching Finch at work however was all you really needed. He'd been through far too much in his life, yet at the end of the day all he wanted was to save other people. He felt the need to bring about happiness for each of his charges, yet he neglected happiness for himself. Your one wish was that you could take away all his pain and just give him the happy ending he provided for others on a daily basis.

Finch shifted when he noticed you were still standing there spacing out. "Is there something else?" You blinked. "Uhh, n-no that's all. I should probably get going. See ya later Finch." you turned sharply, pacing out of the building. Finch looked to Bear, in which the dog just titled its head.

~~~

Their assignment was over, Rachel was safe after Shaw's not so friendly threat to destroy their shipment of merchandise, having already stolen and disposed of one. Not to mention taken out two dozen of the men sent to protect said merchandise. That organization decided to back down, not too keen on having their business go down for a couple million they could make in a few years.

"I could use a drink." Shaw spoke dropping on the chair in Finch's library. She pulled out her gun checking the amount of bullets she had left. "I would appreciate it if you didn't do such things in my presence Ms. Shaw." she smirked. She knew how Finch felt about guns.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist. " She shoved the weapon back into her coat. John walked in, immediately greeted by an excited Bear. He stopped to pet the german shepherd. "I missed you too Bear." The dog had spent a couple days with Root previously, he was always excited being with his original owners.

"I'm surprised (Y/N) isn't here. She's usually hovering around you like a puppy." Shaw chipped in. John smirked, standing and moving over to the other male.

"I'm certain Ms. (L/N) has better ways to spend her night. And she does not, as you quote follow me around like a puppy. " Shaw hummed. "Whatever you say, guys are just so clueless." she muttered. She stood to pour herself a glass of alcohol that was placed on a nearby table.

"Shaw's right, you should stop avoiding it and just ask her out. She obviously wants you to. " Finch's eyes grew wide.

"Pardon me? I assure you that whatever the both of you are insinuating is far from the facts. My relationship with her is strictly professional. "

"Trust me, what she wants from you is far from professional. " Finch could feel his cheeks warm from the suggestive tone of the ex assassin.

"She likes you Finch." John stated flatly. To say the man was flustered was an understatement. It was a bit difficult for him to interact with people sometimes, sitting behind a computer constantly didn't help the situation, but he was sure if you had been attracted to him, he would have picked up on it.

John and Shaw could see the wheels turning in his head. Their previous observation was proven when you walked up the stairs, coming around the corner and down the hall. When you spotted them all sitting and talking you smiled.

"Hey, good job guys. We managed to take down one of the most dangerous crime syndicates in the city and save an innocent woman in the process. " You were still wearing your coat and suit pants, their guess is you had just left the precinct. Shaw shot a look in John's direction and he got the memo. "Yep, well we're turning in for the night. Catch you later detective." She stood, leaving her drink behind. John followed suit.

"Have a good night Finch, detective." John said walking passed you. You conveyed the same, watching them exit. When they were gone you turned back to Finch. He was looking at you strangely. "You okay?" Your question snapped him out of whatever daze he'd been in.

"I'm fine." he turned away from you. "Weird." you thought moving closer to him. He kept his eyes firmly planted on the computer. For a straight minute he didn't say anything, which was only more evidence to his unusual behavior. He looked a bit stiff sitting in his chair.

"Finch are you-"

"Detective I have-" the both of you paused, having spoken at the same time.

"Sorry, were you going to say something Finch. " you gave him a chance to speak, but he seemed unsure of what to say. This was getting weirder by the second.

"Alright spill, what's with you?" He looked up, clearing his throat. "I don't know what you mean detective." you fought a smile. He was nervous, for what, you had no idea. But it was entertaining to watch.

"Okay, for starter's you only call Carter 'Detective'. You made air quotes with your fingers to prove your point. He still didn't say much and now you were starting to get worried.

"What's wrong Harry, is it Decima, or Vigilance? I swear to God if Collier comes after you again I'll put a bullet right through his-"

"It's nothing like that." he said, cutting you off. You relaxed a little. You were still concerned. That was the only thing that could make Finch this level of nervous.

"Then what is it?" you repeated. He finally looked your way, giving you his undivided attention. The way he was staring at you made your cheeks a little hot.

"It's foolish really, just an irrational statement Ms. Shaw made.But John seemed to agree with her." He sounded like he was still processing whatever they said to him. Now you were interested.

"They seem to be under the impression that you are interested in me. Not in a casual sense either but, Mr. Reese thinks you may have less than platonic feelings towards me. "

You blushed. "O-Oh.." Shit, you were sure you'd been covering it up. Of course you had feelings for him, but you never really thought it would go anywhere. The guy was so closed off emotionally, except for when one of you was in danger that is. Aside from that he never showed any interest in relationships, and for good reason. With his lifestyle he couldn't have one. That didn't stop you from hoping though.

"Ms (L/N)?" You blinked, just realizing you didn't answer him. What were you supposed to say? Honesty was the best policy after all. But he obviously didn't see you the same. You couldn't bare it if he distanced himself because of your feelings. Then again, you knew you'd regret it if you didn't tell him. You'd beat yourself up for not taking this chance. This was the opening you were hoping for. You took in a deep breath.

"Finch I...You...I.." you cursed. Why were you suddenly unable to make proper sentences? Finch looked more than a little confused. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. " you shook your head in aggravation. You weren't uncomfortable. Your brain just crapped out on you when you needed it the most. If you couldn't say what you felt you'd just have to show him. You'd always been more of an action person anyway.

You placed your hands on the handles of his chair, leaning down to his height and capturing his lips in a soft kiss. You knew he didn't anticipate it. You sighed appreciatively, relishing in how soft his lips were. Way softer than anything your mind could conjure. A few seconds flew by and you pulled back. Eyes opening slowly. You were still bent slightly. Finch looked more than a little shocked. His mouth was opened, clearly at a loss for words. You give an impish smile.

"I'm usually not the crushing type Finch, but apparently I have a thing for you. " He was stunned. How had he not seen it. Was he that bad at human interactions that he couldn't see what was right in front of his face. "I'm..not sure what to say." you leaned away, straightening.

"You don't have to say anything, just thought I'd put that out there Finch. " Well, he hadn't rejected you yet, that was a good sign. Your eyes moved back to his lips, and he spotted the action, taking in a deep breath. You shifted on your feet. What were you supposed to do now? Finch still wasn't speaking. You couldn't tell whether your action was wanted or not. Deciding that you possibly jeopardized your working relationship, you tried to salvage what you could of your friendship with the male.

"Listen, sorry if I made things awkward. Let's just..pretend this didn't happen okay?" It wasn't what you wanted, but you didn't have a choice. You'd rather have friendship than nothing. Finch was still relatively quiet and you sighed. "I'll just go." you mumbled. You turned, trying to get out of there before he could make out the rejected look reflected in your eyes.

"Wait!" Finch stood abruptly and you halted. You turned back to him a bit hesitant.

"I-I apologize for my delayed response. This has just taken me by surprise. I'm at a loss of how I could have been so oblivious to your feelings." You picked at your nails.

"It's fine Finch. " He shook his head, walking over to you. A smile made its way on your face at the way he walked. His little limp was somewhat cute in your eyes. He was now directly in front of you. "I'm not the best when it comes to opening up, as I've told Mr. Reese numerous times, I'm a very private person." he never broke eye contact with you, the entire time he spoke.

"And I must admit, this caught me by surprise. You're a very attractive woman (Y/N)." you blushed. That had to have been the first time he called you by your first name.

"I-I...um thank you.." you had no idea why you were acting all bashful now when you basically just planted one on him without warning. He smiled, obviously enjoying how your demeanor changed in the short span of time.

"If you are free, I'd like to take you out and explore this further." You couldn't believe it, he was...asking you out on a date.

"Yes!" you replied immediately. You flushed, realizing how desperate that must have sounded.

"I mean s-sure...I'd like that." you covered. Finch smiled, stepping a bit closer and pressing a quick peck on your lips.

"A little payback for before.." he whispered. When he pulled back he moved to walk down the hall, leaving a very flustered you standing there. When he got to the end he turned back to you with a smile.

"Coming Ms.(L/N)?"

"Y-Yeah!" you practically sprinted down the hall to his side.

Looks like you had something else to look forward to now.

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