Barry Allen: I made this friendship bracelet for you.
Oliver queen: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.
Barry Allen: You don’t have to wear…
Oliver queen: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. fuck off.
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Y'think you could do 97 with Olivarry?
(I absolute could… try :’D fair warning, though, I don’t watch Arrow so I’m sorry for possible OOCness :’D)97. “Luck? Nope. Skills.” - “If it’s skill then do it again.”
The arrow hits the target dead-center with a satisfying ‘thunk’.
Barry lets out a happy yelp and pumps his fist in the air, making the only real archer in the room roll his eyes.
“Beginner’s luck,” Oliver comments dryly, and Barry contains the urge to stick his tongue out, but just barely.
“Luck?” he snorts. “Nope. Skills.”
Oliver’s raised eyebrow is a thing of beauty… and doubt.
“If it’s skill, then do it again,” he challenges. Barry can’t let that stand - he didn’t get superpowers for nothing. If Oliver insists on making stupid jokes about how anybody can run, then Barry’s going to prove that anybody could learn how to operate a simple bow.
After all, people have been doing it for millennia, how hard can it be?
He nocks the arrow and carefully lifts the bow - carefully because he’s spent five minutes before shooting that first one just trying to keep the arrow from sliding off and to the side, which had Oliver chortling with amusement and Barry refuses to make an idiot out of himself again. He takes a deep breath and-
“Ow,” he groans when his shoulder muscle gives a painful twinge. He’s got super-healing, sure, but this whole bow-and-arrow thing is actually harder than it looks.
“Lift your elbow,” Oliver instructs, and Barry does, but the older man sighs a little and then steps closer, pushing Barry’s arm into a position that human bodies were surely not created to maintain. He’s really grateful for his powers - he wouldn’t have been able to even draw this bow without them, much less hold it for so long; even with his muscles kept in peak condition due to his powers, his arm is still beginning to shake.
“It hurts,” he complains, which only makes Oliver smirk.
“That’s because you’re pulling with your arm.”
“Should I do it with my leg?!”
“No, smartass,” Oliver rolls his eyes again and circles around to Barry’s back. “Put the bow down for a second.”
Then there’s pressure of a warm hand between Barry’s shoulderblades and Barry shivers involuntarily at the touch. Oliver’s voice is all rough and warm, and Barry just wants him to stand closer, but Oliver is clearly focused on the instructions. “Here. Use your back, it’ll get easier.”
Barry wants to protest, but then he tests the motion by drawing the bow again, and it does get marginally easier. He tries to aim, but bows turn out to be trickier than guns and when he releases, arm trembling and back hurting, the arrow ends up firmly lodged in the wall, two feet to the left of the target.
Barry can practically hear Oliver being smug behind his back.
“Beginner’s misfortune?” Barry tries, but Oliver doesn’t buy it.
“It’s fine. You’re doing better than expected, you just need practice.”
Barry hums thoughtfully at the idea and glances back over his shoulder to grin at the other man.
“Maybe if you showed me again? From up close. Like. Really close.”
Oliver raises an eyebrow at that, and then he seems to catch Barry’s drift… except he’s not stepping any closer.
“…did you ask me to show you how to shoot a bow just so you could get fondled during practice? Because let me tell you, that looks way better in movies than it actually is in reality. Plus, it won’t do much for your posture.”
Posture? Really? Is that what a man should be thinking about when his metahuman boyfriend asks for some up-close-and-personal action? Barry groans and shakes his head. “Spoilsport.”
“Actually, I’m trying to teach you a sport here.” When Barry keeps quiet, Oliver’s tone softens. “If you just wanted to cuddle, we could’ve watched a movie.”
Barry can’t help but perk up at the suggestion.
“Is that still on the table? Because my arm’s dying here.”
Oliver laughs and then, finally, steps closer, his warmth radiating against Barry’s back and making him squirm happily in place. Oliver takes the bow from Barry’s hand and runs his fingers down Barry’s arm:
“Make it a movie without wizards and I’m game.”
“One of these days, I will make you marathon Harry Potter, you know that, right?”
Oliver laughs and presses a kiss to Barry’s shoulder.
“Maybe. But today’s not the day.”
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MIA
When Prometheus takes Oliver for a week, Barry is called in to help, but he doesn’t feel very helpful. Olivarry Week Day 6. Read on AO3 also.
Barry didn’t believe Felicity at first when she called, but she sounded like she’d been crying for hours.
“Prometheus kidnapped Oliver three days ago and we can’t find him.”
He was out of the cortex and halfway to Star City before Cisco picked up the dropped phone and asked what was happening.
Once Barry got to the Arrow Cave, Felicity told him everywhere they’d looked. When she’d finished telling him, he was out on the streets, double checking the places they’d already looked and looking in places they hadn’t because he could phase through walls.
He kept going for hours. He’d left Central when the sun was setting, and didn’t return to the Arrow Cave until the sun was coming back up.
Keep reading
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Most fantasy book protagonists: have basic moral compasses, don’t commit excessive war crimes, care about the world in general, etc
Kaz “dirty hands” Brekker: Shows his simp behavior by gauging someone’s eyes out in the opening chapters of Six of Crows because they hurt Inej and he felt like it and doesn’t give a flying fuck about traumatizing everyone on board because he’s sexy like that.
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