guise trip

@cookingbaconshirtless and @violsva hello i miss you both so much *glomps*. answer time!

how’m i doing: i’m… surprisingly okay. grad school is not nearly as intense here as in the States so i can work hard and get all H1s (the highest marks offered) or work hard enough and get H3-H1as and keep doin the degree. in creative writing, i put in the full ZOMG I MUST CRUSH THIS THE INSTRUCTOR BETTER HAVE HIS WHOLE ENTIRE PARADIGM SHIFTED; in editing, i work pretty damn hard; in publishing, i… well, as a friend of mine here says, ‘Ps GET DEGREES!’ (P is the lowest grade you can get before you don’t actually pass. i haven’t got one yet, but it’s early days. :p)

love life is i never dreamed. i never. *flappy damaged penguin motions h/t jeremy brett* i love my family, by which i mean my Biscuits. lupin and mr lupin and i are ‘a sturdy three-legged stool’, as mr lupin put it yesterday, and, yeah. i love them individually, and together, and so.much. we are not a thing i expected and i am grateful down to and in the spaces between my every subatomic particle.

parenting is a TRIP, guise. holy shit. i love my son. learning to do right by him has made me a better person. i would agree with you that i am become a fucking cliche but i am too busy not crying because i am not experiencing at least seven emotion.

oh, and i’m getting divorced. like, for real. judge signs off on the paperwork end of july. assets divided fairly with zero drama or disagreement. the ex formerly known as mr jude and i rarely talk but when we do it’s mutually respectful and in good faith. i can probably ask more than that, but i don’t care to. 

[if you are on meds or wish you were on or off meds or have any other manner of aksdjflkasdjf around meds possibly skip this paragraph] i’m… off sertraline? completely? for the moment? it was largely an accident: i got sick, and i couldn’t keep the zoloft (or anything else) down, and then i just… kept not taking it. i’d tried three (3) times to go down in my dosage, and i’d done it the Right Way™, with doctors, and plans, and tapering, and it was a shitshow every time. but apparently doing it the ‘wrong’ way was the right one for my brain because it worked? wtf. i definitely notice that i have many more anxiety-fueled and some more depression-fueled thoughts to deal with, but …three weeks? more?… in, i remain able to manage, and manage well, and the positive things popping up where side effects used to be are fantastic. so that worked out better than i deserved.

how mulligan is doing: AWESOME. holy shit. my little trauma muffin continues to bake right up. she has yet to get the verdict on whether her few remaining teeth will need to come out, so that’s a big thing hanging overhead, but the progress left to be made pales compared to the progress already made. she plays! PLAYS! on purpose!! with actual toys and also people!!! she comes out to the landing to hang out! she has cuddle times with lupin AND mr lupin! she spends whole days hanging out with senpai (aka pumpkin) and just napping like it’s okay to let her guard down! she has gained SO. MUCH. WEIGHT. U. GUISE. and i am so happy and i call her ‘podge’ and she’s finally cat sized, not failure-to-thrive sized. (when we got her, she was a year old and about the size of a small guinea pig.) she still does not often hang out in rooms that are not my room, but we are hopeful that as she gets even more stable and even more bored, she will find new spots to call her own. 

  • I always loved the AU idea of Arthur having magic. Like Morgana, he would be conflicted as he watched Uther burn his kind but he would stay silent to spare both his head and the disappointment of his father.
  • Gaius again would be the only one who'd know his secret but this time he would join Kilgharrah in telling Merlin that it's his destiny to help Arthur accept his magic.
  • I just love the thought of the boys locked in Arthur's rooms, practising spells in secret and thwarting magical creatures under the guise of hunting trips.
  • Also, the image of them both just lying on Arthur's bed in the dark while they create glowing shapes in the air sort of kills me. Being our boys, they'd competitively try and make the best fire animals and Merlin would grin smugly when his dragon swallows Arthur's animal whole.
  • And when Arthur eventually allows magic back into the kingdom he'll do it with Merlin at his side, standing high on Camelot's wall and staring down as the once exiled magic users come back through their gates in a parade of celebration.
Request: My Family

Request: Whenever you get the time, I’m in no rush, but could you please write one where the reader has a sister that TFW didn’t know about until she gets a call in the middle of a case from said sister about how her boyfriend is not the greatest and is trying to get her sister’s kid taken away. Feel free to expand on how you will, when you get the time of course! :) (Thank you! :) )

Word Count: 1,236

Here it is, I hope you like it! Thanks!<33

“So, Ms Jones…” You’re about to ask another question when your phone buzzes violently in your pocket. You look at the caller ID and after a moment, you stand up, “My apologies. I have to take this.”

You leave the room, letting Sam, Dean, and Cas take over. You answer quickly, slipping out the back door.

“Woah, woah, wait up.” You stop the caller, who immediately begins crying down the line at you, “Slow down.”

You pause as she tells her story, and you frown, walking down the the Impala as you listen, occasionally reacting to something she says. You become increasingly angry, getting into the car and waiting impatiently.

“Hold on, okay? I’ll be there by morning.” You promise, ending the call.


“So, who was that? Secret boyfriend?” Dean asks as the three of them get into the car. You shake your head.


“Then who?”

“It was my sister.”

“You have a sister?” Sam asks, turning to you. You shrug, nodding.

“Yeah. Three years younger.” You tell them, “I just… keep her quiet. Don’t want anyone to know she’s around.” You admit. You get strange looks from all of the guys as Dean pulls away, driving off back to the motel so you can change out of these stuffy suits, “I’m going to head back up to my hometown tonight. You guys… just let me know where you’re at.”

“What’s happening?” Cas asks, and you take a breath.

“She was with this guy for years, and they had a kid together. He’s about two – beautiful kid, man. Adorable. But this ex is trying to get him taken off of her, saying she hasn’t got enough family support, so I’m going to head down and threaten him.”

Dean chuckles, “Looks like we’re taking a detour, kids.”

“What?” You frown at him in the mirror. Sam agrees.

“You definitely need some big scary friends to back you up.”

“You just want to tease me about my hometown.”

“And that.” Dean chuckles, “Seriously, though, this asshole isn’t going to get away with this.”

“Agreed.” Cas concurs, “It seems he needs a stern talking to.”


You stop off at the motel and Dean calls someone else to come and pick up the hunt where you left off. It’s a long drive to your hometown, but you could care less – you just need to get there and be there for your sister.

On the drive, you end up talking more and more about your family life, back home. Your parents – ex hunters – had died when you were quite young. You’d been fifteen and she’d been twelve. You’d hidden from social services, not wanting to be split up, and made it until you were eighteen and she fifteen. When she was sixteen, she met Anthony, and they struck it off. You, on the other hand, had discovered the world of hunting and were quickly investing yourself in that. You’d been going through a box of your parents’ things and found an old journal.

The second she was in college you were off, travelling the country under the guise of a road trip. You’d send her souvenirs and money – enough to keep her going – and slowly cut off contact. You still talk, of course, but nowhere near as much as you’d like. To keep her safe. Always to keep her safe.

“But,” You finish, “She’s my baby sister and I’d do anything for you.”

You make it there late in the evening. The front door is open, instantly making you suspicious. You tell the guys to wait outside, before slipping into the house.

Stay away from my son.”

He’s mine just as much as he is yours. I have every right to him.”

I’m his mother.”

I’m his father.”

“And I’m his aunt.” You step into the room, shooting an apologetic smile at your sister, “Sorry it took so long, hon.”

She stares at you in shock for a moment, before nodding, “No problem.”

You whirl on the guy, who’s gone slack-jawed at your appearance.

“Anthony, right?” You ask, and he nods slowly. You know him. Of course – for a few years, he was a regular at the house. You offer him a sickly sweet smile, “What’s your problem?”

“She’s – she’s not fit to-” He stammers, before regaining his composure, “She’s not fit to raise my son.”

“And you are?”

“Well… yes.”


“I can provide for him better. She doesn’t have anyone – you’re the only family she has and you’re gone all of the time. Me? I’ve got parents, grandparents, sisters, a brother…” He lists, as if it makes him better than the pair of you. Your facial expression hardens, and you take a step towards him.

“Well, guess what, asshole?” You say softly, “I’m here now, and you have three seconds to be out of her life for good.”

“What makes you think I’ll listen to you?” He’s a whole head taller than you and a lot wider. He puffs out his chest, trying to seem threatening, and you laugh.

“I’m a lot stronger than you, bucko.” You counter, “And a lot scarier. You want to go a few rounds? Prepare for a concussion.”

“Y/N, don’t.” Your sister says timidly, and you raise an eyebrow at the guy in front of you. He seems personally offended, but takes a vague half-step back.

“Now listen here, alright? You leave her alone. She’s a better mother to that kid than any mom I’ve ever seen – and I see a lot with my job – and you don’t get to say otherwise. I have friends, too-”

“I bet they’re not scary.” He sneers. You laugh humourlessly.

“See for yourself. Boys?” You call. A moment later, there are three men in the doorway, “These guys are some of the deadliest you’ve ever seen. I’m not gonna go into details. But the thing is, Anthony,” You say quietly, “You bother my family again and all four of us will hunt you down. We have guns. Don’t understimate us.”

You enunciate each word slowly and clearly, easily scaring him. He scurries past the guys, and you hear the door close. Turning back to your sister, you shoot her a smile.

“Sorry about that.” You say, but before you can explain further you’ve enveloped in a massive hug.

“It doesn’t matter!” She exclaims, “You came!”

“I promised I would.”

“Yeah, but…” She shakes her head as you hug her back, “It’s different. It’s been a while, Y/N.”

“Tell me about it. How have you been?”

“Me?” She grins, “I’m working part-time at the doctor’s surgery in the town. I think I’m gonna train to be a midwife next year. But what about you? And your friends! I mean… friends or friends?” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively and you laugh.

“Just friends.”

She pauses, and her face falls a little, “You’re not just going to go, are you?”

You’d planned on it, but now you’re here…

You look back at Sam, Dean, and Cas, who all give encouraging nods. You nod too.

“I think I can hang around for a little bit. Now, where’s that nephew of mine?”

dckgryson  asked:

Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU and Olicity

Oliver Queen was rescued from Lian Yu at the end of his first year there rather than being dragged into Ivo’s plot and then into ARGUS’s machinations. Ra’s al Ghul, curious about the failed missile, sent his assassins to investigate and they returned dragging along the supposedly dead heir of the Queen empire, a fast-talking Aussie, and a woman with aim to rival Nyssa’s. Ra’s gives them a choice: a battle to the death or a chance to join the league.

Two years later, Oliver Queen emerges from the dead covered in scars but a completely changed man—or so everybody believes. Little does everybody know his true job as he returns to Starling City and to working at his family company: he works for the League now as an enforcer, hiding his true actions under the guise of business trips for Queen Consolidated.

In Bogotá, things get complicated. The League’s not the only one keeping a close eye on a local cartel’s activities; Oliver’s still not sure what happened other than everything just went to hell. Desperate to avoid the local police, he does something only the old Oliver Queen would do: he hits on the pretty blonde on the barstool in the hotel bar.

And sometime between “N-no, that seat’s not taken, I mean, unless you need it to be taken, though why would you need that? God. I’m going to stop talking any second now” and “Are you sure you want to order that? I mean, it’s really fruity and it’ll probably rot your teeth,” his heart lands at the feet of Felicity Smoak. What started out as a cover quickly becomes all too real as they explore the city. Oliver tells himself he’s just being smart, just laying low, but really, he knows he’s hanging around solely to see the wonder on Felicity’s face as they explore the emerald market, or the teasing smile she gives him as they share an ice cream cone from a vendor near the Museo Nacional.

Five years later, she can still make his heart stop in his chest, but even he can’t deny that they’re buried very, very deep under the monotony of their life together. Night after night of take-out meals or Felicity’s terrible cooking, nights of staring at the ceiling and wondering what happened between them. Brushing their teeth side by side. A thousand times, he nearly tells her. A hundred times, he sees a strange look cross her face, and he wonders what she’s thinking.

She never tells him.

The picture comes via League routes, as usual. An assassination—why can’t Nyssa or Slade take this?—which admittedly isn’t his forte, but taking out the kid (and he’s just a kid, really) can’t be that hard. He grabs his archery gear and he waits for the armed caravan outside the city limits, but it all goes to hell. Everything is on fire, there are buildings toppling, and in the smoke, he sees a running figure, just a flash of a ponytail, the shine of artificial light from what looks like some kind of computer-controlled wrist-cuff.

He stumbles back to his headquarters nearly missing his eyebrows and a little deafened by all the noise. “There’s an enemy in the game I didn’t account for,” he tells Sara, who came through the League not far behind him and now assists him whenever she’s not sneaking off with the Demon’s Daughter or handling her own missions.

But yeah, anyway, he figures out that ARGUS has an agent in town, which is surprising because what are they even doing in his city? When he finds out it’s Felicity, he’s devastated. Or he is until he’s too busy scrambling away from the crazy amount of ordinance his wife packs in her purse. Somehow in many years of marriage, it has completely escaped his notice that his wife is a) a spy  and b) obsessed with blowing things up. You’d think it would be obvious! But she doesn’t even play with fireworks!

Anyway, cat and mouse ensues with Oliver playing mind games to cover just how hurt he is by the deception (never mind that he’s been deceiving just as much). It all comes to a head in their house—their perfect, storybook house—which is completely destroyed by Felicity’s little explosives and the arrows Oliver is secretly relieved all miss their targets. Lalala, mind-blowing sex that’s amazing because they finally get to be honest with each other, followed by attempts to eat breakfast and find an unbroken dish, embarrassing the neighbors, so on and so forth.

When the bad guys come after them, they escape using Barry and Iris’s minivan from next door (Barry still hasn’t returned those golf clubs, Oliver notes grumpily) and the car chase is fraught with danger and the truth (“I was married to Laurel once.” / “I’m Jewish.”). Everything culminates into a last stand, ironically enough in an electronics store. They work so well together, Oliver thinks. It’s a shame they’ll pretty much never survive this, because god dammit, he really loves his wife, okay?

Somehow, it all ends with Felicity and Oliver standing in the middle of a destroyed electronic store with the dust and bodies settling around them.

“So which one of us is quitting our job?” Felicity asks into the silence after that.

“How do you feel about going into business for ourselves?”

Which is the story of how Team Arrow really forms: Felicity poaches her best friend John Diggle from ARGUS, Oliver brings in the Lance sisters, but the biggest surprise of all is that the kid they were both hired to kill asks for a job. They’re happy to welcome Roy Harper to the team.