touching olicity moments

3
Olicity - “Not Sure What To Do With My Hands Since I Can’t Touch You” post :)

Oh Boy, they are a bit twitchy. lol 

Nervous energy?

Look at her hands.

Look at his. 

I think they would rather be doing something else with those hands. They were so used to this while the two of them worked together in the Bunker/Lair.

It was just the natural thing to do. It must be tough to go from that to this

Oliver has got to keep those hands in my pockets while she works 

and Felicity has to keep from reaching out to him. 

Same Felicity. Same. 

ohmypreciousgirl  asked:

The I dream of Felicity - First kiss

Oliver Queen finds the dark purple bottle on Lian Yu’s beach. He digs it out of wet sand and washes it off in the ocean water before pulling the out the stopper and releasing a burst of purple smoke that quickly solidifies into a blonde girl in a belly dancer outfit.

At first he thinks he’s hallucinating. It’s about damn time too, really. He’s been stranded alone on this island for—by his surely inaccurate calculations—over four years. Four years of limited human contact—there were people, but they were threats or targets and they provided no escape from this hell—was bound to leave his sanity unraveling at the edges.

Oliver doesn’t have an abundance of time to contemplate his slow descent into madness, because the hallucination has thrown herself into his arms and pressed her lips to his and—

Hallucinations aren’t this solid, aren’t this real, are they?

He can feel the softness of her skin beneath the calluses on his hands as he instinctively grabs onto her waist. He can taste saltwater on her tongue and smell the sweet scent of her perfume. The press of her body pressed against his is tantalizing. One of her hands rakes through the long tresses of his hair while the other holds fast to the tattered material of his shirt.

And Oliver’s lost.

He opens his mouth to her, pulls her closer, kisses her deeper. She’s like breathing fresh air after an eternity of drowning, and if this is some kind of dream, he doesn’t ever want to wake up.

Except then she’s pulling away, stepping back, and he looks down at the most beautiful woman he’s every seen. Bright pink lips, golden curls, kind eyes.

“Wow,” he breathes.

“Hi,” she says, and he can’t help but notice the way she’s panting, the dazed expression on her face. She’s broken the kiss, but she hasn’t stepped out of his arms.

“Where did you—” Oliver stops, glances at the bottle floating in the ocean at the girl’s feet. “I’ve got to be—”

He chuckles, suddenly awkward. She’s still very much pressed up against him, and he’s still thrown from that kiss.

“You’ve got to be what?” she asks.

“Dreaming,” he says. “I’ve got to be dreaming. You can’t be real.”

Confusion fills her features. “Why not?”

“Because,” he swallows, somehow nervous. “I’m alone here.”

She smiles, “You’re not dreaming. You rescued me.”

Letting one of her arms fall from around Oliver’s neck, the girl reaches down to retrieve the bottle. “I’ve been in here for the past…well, it must be about forty or fifty years by now.”

“You’ve been trapped…in there?”

“Waiting for you, Master.”

“Master?”

She looks, of all things, offended by his clear confusion. “Genie—” she points to herself, then to him— “Master.”

Oliver scrambles away from her, and she looks even more hurt. “Wait—wait, what?”

“I’m your genie,” she says, slowly, as if he’s an idiot.

“No,” he says. “You’re not. You’re…I don’t know what you are but what you’re not is a genie.”

The girl crosses her arms, and narrows her eyes at him. “I can prove it to you.”

“How?”

“I can give you anything you want. Wish for something.”

“Wish for something,” Oliver says. “Anything?

"Anything,” she repeats.

That’s easy. There’s only one thing he wants. “I want to go home.”

The girl blinks. “Done.”

“Done?” Oliver asks, “You haven’t done any…”

He lets his sentence fade away.

There’s a ship on the horizon that wasn’t there a second ago.