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Adventures in Expression

Summary:

The three times Oliver and Felicity helped their three kids express themselves.

Notes:

Okay, so this came from a super specific prompt/request from bri/@bettgasm on twitter. Hopefully this is what you had in mind.

Set vaguely in the future. Plot doesn’t matter. Wonder Woman is a movie and not a hero in this universe. Also, WildQueen is a thing. Just have fun.

Enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Felicity usually likes getting her nails done by someone else.

Honestly, it’s one of those things. The kind of thing she knows she has no time for but does it anyway, because she deserves half an hour where she’s forced to put her phone down and relax.

This week has been one of those weeks, however. The kind where between work, doctor’s appointments, and Team Arrow, she doesn’t have a minute to herself and every time she types she can feel her plum nail polish chipping off just a little bit more.

And maybe it’s the whole pregnancy thing she has going on, but every time she looked down at her nails (which was, admittedly a lot, given the nature of her jobs), she felt downright miserable.

That’s why one evening, when she has the house to herself for once, she reaches into her old collection of half empty nail polish bottles and uncaps a sea green colour called, incidentally, island oasis.

She’s halfway through her right hand – which she hates, because with all her abilities, ambidexterity is not one of them –when the door opens unexpectedly and William walks in, home early from soccer practice.

Her hand slips, polish going on her skin just a little as she jumps at the unexpected arrival. She grabs a cotton swab and wipes it off as she twists her neck around to greet him. “Hey Will,” she waves a hand carefully, “how was school?”

“Fine,” he sets his bag down and joins her on the couch, “what are you doing?”

She holds the green bottle up, “trying to feel a little human again.”

He nods like he understands what she means, and picks up the remote that rests on the coffee table to turn the television on.

She finishes the last coats on her fingers and stretches her legs out, looking at the small tips of her toes that peek out over her baby bump and sighs sadly.

William glances over warily, “something wrong?”

She shakes her head, “nothing, I just wanted to paint my toes to but I don’t think the twins will let me reach,” she sighs sadly.

William tears his eyes away from the television properly, turning his body and reaching for the bottle. “I can… I can do it if you want.” He says hesitantly.

She’ll blame the hormones later, but the offer makes her tear up just a bit as she nods. She slides over a lighter colour labelled pink champagne and props her leg up on the couch.

She can’t help but watch him carefully as he unscrews the bottle and carefully takes her big toe in his fingers. It’s hard not to notice the resemblance with his father as he slides the polish across her nail, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration.

He’s trying so hard, bless him, that she doesn’t comment when he goes slightly over the lines and onto her skin, and maybe paints it a bit streakier than she would have. It’s the thought that counts.

He pauses over the pinky toe of her first foot.

“Something wrong?” she frowns.

“Nothing,” he tucks the brush back into the bottle. “This is just nice.”

She smiles, “yeah, I think so too, bud.”

“Do you think…” he breaks off and shakes his head.

“What?” Felicity sits up a bit.

“It’s dumb,” he keeps his eyes trained on the couch.

She can’t reach over from her position, so she uses one of her toes to prod him, “tell me.”

He takes a deep breath, “do you think I could… try it?”

“Try what?” Felicity says blankly, before following his gaze, which is not on the couch but the bottles of polish she had strewn about, “oh.”

She can see him deflate as he misreads her reaction entirely and jumps up, “no, that’s not what I meant. Will, of course you can!”

She lets him pick a colour from her collection, a dark metallic blue, and lets him put his feet up next to her.

It’s how Oliver finds them a little while later, both carefully applying final top coats. Felicity feels William tense when his father arrives, unsure of how he will react.

“What’s going on?” Oliver asks.

Felicity shrugs, “just a little bit of R and R.”

Oliver only nods, walking around the couch and kicking his own shoes off, and pulls the black socks off underneath as he sits down next to them.

He looks at the collection of bottles on the coffee table and picks up the same sea green Felicity used on her hands.

When he finally says, “any chance I can join?” William relaxes, giving a little laugh as his father props his feet up on the ottoman.

The following weekend, Mayor Queen has an event at a local park that requires casual dress. The picture of his toes sitting in his Birkenstocks painted the same colour as his wife’s manicure goes viral.     


The arrival of twins Ava and Tommy Queen take Oliver and Felicity by surprise.

It’s full of clichés Felicity never thought she would adhere to, including matching outfits that just look so cute in pictures (she’s morphed into some momzilla, okay, sue her).

The matching thing dies out after their first year, but when Halloween comes around Felicity can’t resist putting them through matching costumes, wearing such a wide smile when she holds them up that Oliver can’t even try to resist.

It gets harder with age, she finds, and by the time their fourth Halloween comes around her kids are asking them for their own costumes.

It’s Tommy who speaks up first, holding up one of his picture books and pointing to the bright image. “I wanna be Wonder Woman.” He declares with little preamble.

“Wonder Woman?” Felicity asks in surprise.

Tommy only nods, “she’s cool.”

And, really, it’s a foolproof argument.

It’s how Oliver finds his family later, little Ava drowning in a pink dinosaur costume and Tommy in a bright blue tulle tu-tu and red t-shirt, both children wearing excited grins and clutching pillowcases to collect candy.

He doesn’t say anything, looking at his two youngest fighting a smile of his own. His son looks up at him almost shyly.

“Make sure you grab your jacket, bud,” is all Oliver says, “It’s cold.”      


It takes Rene and Thea forever to come around.

For them, it means years of taking things slow, making a lot of missteps in their relationship before finding their footing, and just being careful after what their pasts put them through.

For Oliver, it meant a lot of longing looks, unbearable flirting, and suggestive post-it notes that sometimes accidentally land on his desk.

He tried to complain about it to Diggle once, who just snorted and said something along the lines of, “yeah, I can only imagine,” which Oliver chose to ignore.

When they do come around, however, it takes only one simple question Rene asks in an empty mayor’s office on one knee that sends Thea over the moon, and Felicity into a frenzy of wedding planning.

In the weeks leading up to it, when Thea and Felicity pour over fabric samples in an effort to find the perfect bridesmaid colour. Oliver makes himself scarce in the kitchen, because quite frankly the wedding stuff is boring, and he watches as Ava walks into the room to join her mother and aunt.

She’s clutching her parents’ wedding album close to her chest and approaches carefully. “Mommy?” she asks quietly.

Felicity sets down the paint chips (why do they need paint chips for a wedding? Never mind, Oliver decides doesn’t want to know) and turns to her daughter. She eyes the wedding album in her arms and frowns, but reaches out anyway.

“Yeah, baby?”  

“For Auntie Thea’s wedding, do I have to wear a dress?”

Felicity furrows her eyebrows, “it’s what we had planned. Why, is something wrong?”

Ava presses her lips together and her chin quivers a little. Oliver’s one second away from setting the dirty dishes he’s washing down and walking over himself.

“It’s just…” her tiny voice shakes as she looks around, “they’re so itchy,” she finally whines.

Thea fights a laugh.

“Okay,” Felicity says diplomatically, “what do you want to wear instead?”

Ava flips the wedding album in her hand, pointing to a photo of Dinah smiling next to Felicity, in a sleek pantsuit.

Felicity loved the look, and let her bridesmaid skip out on the dress that day since Dinah insisted she wasn’t really a dress kind of person.

“Can I wear something like this?” her daughter asks, looking up at Felicity with those wide blue eyes that neither of her parents can resist.

Oliver winces from the kitchen and watches to see if Felicity’s face will fall. He knows for a fact that there’s a bright pink dress that his wife lovingly picked out a month ago and hung up in their closet, with matching shoes tucked in a box that she tried to hide from him.    

But he also knows she can’t deny her baby girl a single thing.

“Sure honey,” she reaches out, “hand me my tablet, let’s look for something that you can wear, okay?”

And that’s how he leaves, them, Ava tucked in between her mother and aunt, both women eagerly pointing at different pictures and finding perfect accessories.

And on the day of Thea’s wedding, when Oliver dances with his little girl in her navy-blue pant suit and wide grin, he knows they wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Notes:

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