it’s love that does us in
Vern (rhymes with fern). lady person, late twenties, midwestern, invested in fictional narratives, kittu9 on AO3. kind of a goober, tbh.
currently into: alternate universes, arrow, brooklyn 99, contemporary art, elementary, feminism, fierce ladies, talking about all of the above.
“I’ve eaten all of your popcorn,” Sara says.
“So what,” Felicity rustles through her purse and pulls out, Mary Poppins-like, an oversized silk scarf to wrap around Sara’s neck; Sara is pretty sure it makes her look less threatening, which makes it an excellent disguise. “It’s popcorn, and you’ll just parkour it off later anyways. Not that you need to! You’re fine. Not like, fine fine, but like—it’s not a problem.” She shakes her head and closes her eyes, probably counting down from three again. It’s probably one of the cutest things about her.
mildly annoyed at canon because now i have to cut a line about Felicity being raised by lesbian moms.
Pink Drinks and Pick-Up Lines, rated PG-13 for sexiness and some swearing. No warnings. Felicity notices a guy brooding at a bar. Things get fun.
((A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it. — Jean de La Fontaine))
By her estimation, it took her half of a pink martini (her first, since math seemed important whenever alcohol was involved) to notice Broody Guy. How she missed him before that was a little bit of a mystery because he was only two stools away and he was kind of a big guy. Big in an “I work out” way, not in a “I eat nachos for every meal not-that-there’s-anything-wrong-with-that” way. He leaned forward with his elbows on the bar, hands clasped together in front of a whiskey, and she entertained the thought that his face would look so much more handsome without the frown.
She didn’t say that aloud because while it was annoying, at least her habit of splashing everything in the vicinity with far too many words had some sense of self-preservation. Instead, she finished the pink martini and wondered what he was brooding about.
He didn’t touch the whiskey, not once. He didn’t look up or check his watch or play with his phone, so he either wasn’t waiting for somebody to arrive or he was just one of those incredibly rare patient people. Felicity was not one of those people. She also hated mysteries and by the middle of her second pink martini, Broody Guy was becoming a little bit too big of an enigma.
So she turned to him and said the first thing that came to mind: “I’m sorry, sir, you’re going to have to leave.”
Horror story: wore my contact lenses to a work event. They started to dry out right as this cute guy from one of our partners made a presentation, so I sure hope no one interpreted my constant blinking as shameless winking.
Do you ever want to talk to someone but
1) You feel like you’re bothering them or coming off clingy
2) You don’t have anything to say, you just want to talk to them
3) You don’t know how to hold a conversation to save your life