#Green Arrow fanfiction

[pricetagofficial]

Day 21: Game Night

Pairing: Oliver Queen x Reader

Warnings: Language? Fluff? Uno? Is Uno a warning?

A/N: Welcome to day 21! We are less than a few days from Christmas! Im honestly excited to spend the next few days with my family, and just enjoy our time together. Header by me, divider by @cafekitsune

Masterlist

"There is no way,"

"What are you talking about, Barry? It's plain as day that I am winning."

"Oliver, you are the biggest cheater I know."

"Shut up, Brucie. Detective skills are banned at game night, remember?"

You honestly weren't sure what was going on anymore. This was a frequent occurrence in the Queen household, Oliver would host a game night every so often and invited other members of the JLA.

Sometimes you would join, others you didn't. This one, you weren't sure you wanted to be present anymore.

Nothing got this group more riled up than Uno.

It was supposed to be simple. Oliver invited Hal, Barry, Bruce, and Clark over. Powers were banned, so Barry couldn't use his speed to sneak a card, Clark couldn't use his x-ray vision and Hal couldn't summon up an uno card with his ring.

Bruce wasn't allowed to deduce anything, and Oliver just had to keep his poker face.

The second you heard what they were playing, that should've been your cue to end the game then and there.

They were mature adults, you thought. They'd behave, you thought.

How very wrong you were.

You were watching over Oliver's shoulder, who had somehow gotten an uno and no one had noticed. Everyone else still had several cards in their hands, and yet Oliver was left with one.

Bruce was right in his earlier statement. Oliver Queen was the biggest cheater you knew at card games. Along the way, he had somehow learned sleight of hand, in order to try and keep up with the rest of the guys.

You had to give it to him, even if Bruce could figure out how the trick worked just by watching it a few times, it wasn't something even he could replicate.

Which was had him so perplexed. Bruce knew Oliver was cheating somehow, he just couldn't figure it out. And he wasn't allowed to.

Oliver sat there with a smug grin on his face.

"Looks like the rest of you just aren't a master at Uno like I am."

One by one, the guys laid their cards down trying to figure out a way to stop Oliver. They had no idea what he had, and they couldn't risk losing to him. They'd never live it down.

Once it got to Bruce's turn, he looked at his cards and then back at Oliver. A small smile appeared on his face as he pulled out a draw four, and placed it down.

"That's bullshit!"

"That's the game, Oliver. If you don't like it, don't play." he hummed, sorting through his cards. "Or better yet, don't cheat and I won't have to do it to you."

Oliver slumped in his chair and begrudgingly grabbed four more cards.

"No wonder your kids don't play games with you."

"We actually aren't allowed to play unless Alfred is there to mediate."

The way everyone's heads snapped towards Bruce was record-breaking.

Looking around, Bruce saw that everyone was waiting for an explanation.

"The last time we played Uno as a group, Jason shot the cards and Dick tackled Tim across the table. This was after Damian and Duke decided that it was a great idea to drop multiple draw fours on Cass. She made them draw so many cards, the two of them gave up."

Everyone sat in silence.

"Maybe it's a good thing we don't have game night with Roy and Cissie that often. Someone would probably end up dead." You chuckled.

Oliver laughed. "Maybe, but it'd be fun to get together again, you know?"

Kissing his cheek, you smiled. "We'll have to do it one day. Now weren't you losing?"

Oliver's mustache turned into a pout.

"You're mean,"

"I'm right," you hummed. "He has cards hiding under his leg by the way."

As you walked away, you heard the table erupt in chaos over the revelation to how Oliver was in fact cheating.

[fastestmanalive333]

Redemption

By fastestmanalive333

Takes Place after Green Arrow Vol 2 #100

The plane explodes!!! He watches Superman scan for his remains..... Oliver floated away from the earth slowly, as he'd done a thousand times before with Hal or Superman, But alone this time. Was this some sort of out of body experience? He thought to himself. music began quietly playing in Oliver's it grew louder As if he had on ear phones. Whoah! Oliver turned as he felt a gentle grasp on his shoulder. What a beautiful looking woman, Looked like Shado a bit White as a ghost though, kinky outfit and make-up, all black this is Dream's sister, Death. She giggled innocently. "No need to be scared of me...." She giggled seductively but innocently. Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Oh my!" he said looking her up and down. Death then grabbed Oliver's hand and guided him as they walked into starred blackness. "You've passed to this realm now, Oliver....you are with me now...you're soul longs for redemption Oliver....tell me what you need to redeem..." she cooed softly. The music had quieted by now but again it began getting louder. Up ahead in the blackness he saw a red suited skeleton dancing to the melody of the song... they could hear him as they approached...

Companion Song Below:

"In the afterlife ....." the man sung.... "You could be headed for the serious strife Now you make the scene all day But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay"

"People listen attentively I mean about future calamity I used to think the idea was obsolete Until I heard the old man stamping his feet."

"This is quite odd...."Oliver said to his escort, the lovely Death as they watched this man dance and sing.

"This is a place where eternally..." the dancing figure sung. "Fire is applied to the body Teeth are extruded and bones are ground Then baked into cakes which are passed around."

"Beauty, talent, fame, money, refinement Top skill and brain But all the things you try to hide... Will be revealed on the other side."

"Now the D and the A and the M and the N and the A And the T and the I-O-N Lose your face, lose your name Then get fitted for a suit of flame"

As Oliver watched him dance after singing this he saw the skeleton turn to him.

"Deadman!" Oliver said in surprise. "Yep, Oliver, if your seeing me, you must be dead!' Deadman started laughing. "You're early!" "Well come in come in...." Deadman looked as if he were pulling up make believe chairs. Death whispered in Oliver's ear "The last few times I've seen him he's getting crazier and crazier, but he does his job well...he travels often....he will be friend to you in your journey, Oliver.

"His job?" Oliver asked.

"No whispering, A dead man has no secrets...." he chuckled to himself as he reached for a book. He opened it.

"Yep, I knew it, you're early...." Deadman said as he took off his glasses.

"Why does a skull need glasses?"Oliver asked still shocked by all of this.

"Its a fashion statement, Ollie" Deadman said giggling.

So what exactly does early mean?" Oliver asked impatiently

Well early means that its not your time for eternal bliss, if ever there is one, they don't supply redemption in the log..." Deadman answered honestly

".....you mean Heaven don't want me..." Oliver whispered forgetting death hears all

"Yup" Deadman turned away

"Why hell? I fought the good fight! I was an honest man!"

Deadman turned and raised an eyebrow.......

[unphasedslacker]

I can totally see Batman slipping into "Brucie, playboy billionaire and philanthropist" in order to escape from captivity or something.

Being locked up with members of the Justice League would make it even more hilarious, especially if they don't know his civilian identity yet. Imagine this:

The League was recently captures by some aliens for god knows what purposes. They were trying to come up with a decent plan, but it was taking too long and Batman had a charity gala or a parent-teacher conference to get to, so he couldn't afford the time to conduct an escape plan. After a moment of consideration, he pulled off his cowl (causing the other members to freeze/choke/trip over in shock from this random af identity reveal like wtfthatsbrucewayne-) and called the two guards standing by the cell over.

Batman - THE Bruce Wayne holy shit - proceeded to shamelessly flirt with said guards, running his hand down one's chest and whispering into the other's ear. Apparently, they found the earthling really attractive and ended up turning to putty in his hands after a few moments. During the whole ordeal, Batman managed to snatch the oddly shaped keys off of one of the guards and slid it in his glove, efficiently hiding it.

He then proceeded to knock them both out, pull his cowl back on and open the chamber.

"Let's go."

"WAIT- hold up. You just- he just- I- I need a moment to process this."

"Not now. We need to get off this ship. I will handle the control room, Flash, you will ---"

(...)

Later Batman is going to suffer through an interrogation consisting of unnecessary screaming, stupid questions, and longing stares.

[gothamite-rambler]

"You slashed his tires?" Dick asked, disappointed at the upcoming answer.

Inspired by Class of 09 mostly cause I imagine Jason would be there for Roy as a friend. I'm aware the characters that most of these lines are connected to are clinically insane, but I wanted to write this because I like their dynamic and it's just my silly headcanon fanfic.

Dick Grayson: Jason, I've been questioning this since you became friends with Roy.

Jason Todd (staring into his coffee): You're jealous he's my friend and not yours.

Dick (sincere): No, you're a good influence on him, I'm not upset about that. I noticed Oliver Queen seems to hate you a lot. Why?

Jason (sheepishly): We... We didn't have the best first meet up when I became friends with Roy.

Dick sat down and waved his hand for Jason to continue.

Dick: I have to hear this.

Jason: Okay... It’s a really funny story, you’re gonna laugh by the end of it.

Dick (sighing): I doubt it, but go on.

---Flashback (inspired by Class of 09)---

Roy and Jason entered Oliver Queen's mansion. Jason looks around, amazed to be in another rich person's house that isn’t his dad’s.

Roy (worried): You think that cop bought our story?

Jason (confident): Yeah, the other guy confirmed it while we ran off... we’re good. I’ll be right back though; I have to fix this.

Roy watched as Jason walked over to a tilted painting in Oliver Queen’s house.

Roy (bemused smile): What are you doing?

Jason Todd (examining a framed picture of a flower): I can’t deal with this painting being crooked.

Jason aligned the frame. Roy laughed until he heard footsteps descending the stairs. He realized his father had come home early. Oliver Queen saw Roy and a strange man in his foyer.

Oliver Queen (raising his voice, angry): Where have you been?

Roy (rubbing his arm, ashamed) I don’t know, are you a cop now?

Oliver: No note, no text— you could have died!

Roy: With how you handled my drug use, would you have cared?

Oliver: Get over it; you’re fine.

Jason (walking over): Roy, why’s this asshole yelling at you?

Oliver: And who’s this?

Roy: My… new friend.

Jason: We were at the mall, by the way, so you can stop grilling Roy.

Oliver (doubtful): So I’m supposed to believe you two were at the mall all night?

Roy: What do you mean “all night”? We were there for like, what… two or three hours?

Jason (looking around): Yeah, two and a half. Like the show.

Oliver: It’s 1 in the morning!

Jason: Damn, we hung out with that guy that long?

Oliver: What guy?

Roy (nervous): Nobody.

Oliver: What guy, Roy?

Roy: Nobody!

Oliver: Tell me!

Roy (frustrated): Oh my God.

Oliver: Tell me or your friend has to go home!

Jason (amused): Cool, an ultimatum.

Roy (losing his cool): You really want to know?

Oliver: Yes! What guy was this?

Roy (shouting): The crackhead in front of the mall we sold weed to!

Oliver (shocked): Where did you even get—oh, you’re so stupid!

Roy: Oh, so you hate homeless people too?!

Oliver: My opinions about the homeless community are not the issue here! Dealing drugs in public—dealing drugs in general- it doesn’t matter if you sold them to get rid of them! How can you be so idiotic?!

Jason, irritated at Oliver yelling at his friend, steps in.

Jason: It was actually kind of smart.

Oliver (indignant): Excuse me?

Jason: You better fix your fucking tone with me before I slash your tires!

Oliver (offended): Who are you talking to?!

Jason: I’m talking to you, Green Arrow!

Oliver: How did you—

Roy: Ollie, funny story—

Oliver: Did you sell him crack or heroin? Did you tell him who I was for that smack, Roy?!

Roy, rubbing his arm shamefully, remains silent.

Jason: Who says “smack”? You 1950s gangster! I also love how you didn’t pretend you weren’t him; that’s how stupid you are! We sold weed to a crackhead, because what would a crackhead want with weed? Cops won’t expect that shit! It’s genius!

Oliver (mocking): Genius, really?!

Jason: Yeah! And he’s been sober for a few freaking years! So lay off him! We sold the weed because we had it left over from a mission! A mission you weren’t on! What did you want us to do, keep it? That’s dumb! We did a business deal and got rid of evidence. You should be thankful we don’t have it!

Roy (defiant): Yeah, so... why don’t you shut the fuck up?!

Oliver (smirk): What if I have you arrested? You’ll be able to walk, since your plan is so bulletproof!

Roy: No, wait, don’t do that!

Jason: Go the fuck ahead, asshole. They’ll believe us because we’re young and you’re old and dried up.

Oliver: That’s it, I don’t want you hanging out with him anymore!

Jason (angry): He can hang out with whoever the fuck he wants, bitch! So why don’t you go to your room, pour your little Cognac, watch M.A.S.H, and shut the fuck up or I’ll shove an arrow up your urethra!

Oliver: I can't believe you'd say that!

Oliver busted into tears and runs off.

Jason: God, that felt good. Wish I could say that to my dad.

Roy: Why don’t you?

Jason: He’ll write me out of the will.

Roy: Wow, huh... I think you broke him, so yeah, I get not saying that to Bruce.

Jason: I did break him... Awesome. I’m glad I defended you.

Roy: Honestly, I appreciate that, but we should leave. He’s going to be sobbing for a while.

Jason: And watching M.A.S.H?

Roy: It’s not on tonight.

---End of Flashback---

Jason: Then I stole some stuff from his fridge, slashed his tires, and we’ve had animosity toward each other ever since. Man, those were crazy times. Guess he hasn’t forgotten about it.

Jason sighed contentedly.

Dick (rubbing his forehead, exhausted): You do realize how that wasn’t okay, right?

Jason: Yes, but I helped Roy when he was struggling and got that Oliver prick off his case. I’ve done a lot for Roy, especially in helping him get full custody of his daughter. Oliver should be appreciating what his son has become. I am such a good person, you know that?

Dick (chuckling): I don’t disagree. At least you’re not the only one Oliver dislikes.

Jason: Who else does he hate?

Dick: Bruce. Long story.

[ghost-bxrd]

Gordon isn’t the only one who notices. He’s just the start in a chain of very exhausting first meetings that Tim-as-Robin has.

“The fuck is that?” Roy exclaims the second Tim steps through the zeta behind Batman, recoiling from where he’d been arguing with Green Arrow.

By this point Tim isn’t— well, he’s not been accepted, per se. But at least Bruce is no longer actively trying to lose him during patrol. Small mercies.

Green Arrow falls into his seat with a weary groan, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers. And part of Tim wants to geek out, to skip over and pester Green Arrow with all the questions that had accumulated over the years. Like, where did you learn to use a bow like that? Does he use gadgets to correct the trajectory so he never misses a hit? So many questions. But Tim will ask none of them.

“That’s Robin, kid. You know him.”

Roy squints at him, lips curling. And there’s a zero chance probability that the other boy even marginally bought that.

— Owl Song pt xiii sneak peek

[vexeria17]

OMIGOSH guys! You really have to have this on your to-read list. It's peak comedy with a probably the best visual writing I've ever read, and will absolutely make your week! Seriously this is probably at the top of my favorite dpxdc crossovers yet. Imagine how this could get expanded? Perfection 😂 

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Danny Phantom, DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types, Green Arrow (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Danny Fenton, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman), Oliver Queen, Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Barry Allen, Wally West, Patrick "Eel" O'Brian Additional Tags: Danny Fenton is a Little Shit, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Danny keeps saving heroes in bad cosplay of said hero he is rescuing, Clark will fight Bruce for adoption rights, Oliver will fight them both, Hal is traumatized by Danny's Olympic level trauma dumping, Barry's love language is feeding people and pummeling their evil godfathers, Diana thinks Danny is a normal kid who occationally dresses up to help, She's technically not wrong, Barbara gets to watch the Joker suffer, Bruce takes one look at this feral child and goes Mine Now, The Batfam discussing who had the best cosplay during a crime scene, Heroes get back at Danny for the cosplay Summary:

After accidently getting launched through a natural rift and stuck in a alternate universe, Danny decides to help the local heroes while waiting to get picked up. But he doesn’t do it as Phantom or Fenton, oh no. He doesn’t want either of his identities to get mixed up in all this nonsense and get traced back to him. So what does he do? Crappy cosplay.

[bats-and-the-birds]

Hey guys! I had writer's block for a while, but some people were asking for a fic based on this post I made a while ago:

And it is currently a WIP with the first two chapters posted!

[jackiequick]

How Lucy Met Ollie | Smallville Fanfic

Paring: Oliver & Lucy

———

Setting: Season six episode ‘Sneeze’

Characters: Oliver Queen, Lucy Kent and Lois Lane

Mentioned characters: Senator Martha Kent, Clark Kent & etc

—^^0–

Summary: When Oliver Jonas Queen came to the Kent Farm, last thing he expected was to find a beauty…

———

The sky was partly cloudy, sun shining across Smallville every one in a while. Seemed like it might rain later on, but at the moment it was shiny skies for the townsfolk.

His car parked a few feet away from the household, stepping out of the car, Oliver smiled. Beautiful house, old fashioned and smell like a warm slice of homemade apple pie. He loves pie. Some flowers even scattered around the front yard.

He held a file in his hand, jogging up the steps to the house, knocking on the door twice as he assumed that it’s a large household so they might not hear him the first time. Just in case.

Once the door opens, Oliver Jonas Queen was dumbstruck when one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen turns to face him.

Ollie never thought of a encounter like this today. He was expecting to see Senator Kent or someone else. But not a lovely young women is dark hair, a pink baseball t-shirt and a beauty mark next to her roundly shaped nose.

“Yes?” Said the women, when Ollie kept staring at him like she had something on her face.

“Oh um. Yeah, sorry.” He laughed breathlessly, “I came to deliver this to your home.”

He gladly extended the envelope to her, she took it and slipped it underneath her arm.

“Queen Industries.” Read the dark haired beauty with a slight rasp in her voice, “Great! Mom was waiting for this to arrive.”

Oliver found the rasp in the voice cute and something he hasn’t seen too much in women he met. Wait mom?! Is that-does that mean-? He would’ve mistaken her to a young Senator Kent if he didn’t know what she looked like in the first place.

Or at least, her assistant.

No one told Ollie that Martha Kent was blessed with the most beautiful daughter. He wondered if she had more kids, two daughters? A son? Oh god, Oliver would have a field day and never want to leave!

If they have told him, Ollie would’ve brought flowers to the farm.

And a ticket to see a movie.

“You mean to say, you’re Senator Kent’s daughter?” Asked Oliver to confirm his decision.

“The one and only!” Replied Mrs. Kent’s daughter delighted.

“How wonderful.”

“Uh, thank?”

He was laying it on thick, as one can see.

She chuckled, thinking that this blonde was a sight for sore eyes. A supermodel with that charming smile, bright chocolate brown eyes and fluffy spiked up hair. One word to describe him, playful.

He’s probably taken by a gorgeous young blonde with blue eyes and killer curves. Lady killer.

If someone told her that Oliver Queen was coming, she would’ve prepared him a little gift to take home after he given her the files.

“And what do they call yo—” Oliver started.

“Lucy? Is something w-” called someone, unknowingly answering Ollie’s questions, “-oh! Who’s this?”

A lovely young blonde, probably older than the brunette, appeared joining Lucy at the door. GOD DAMN! Are there any more drop-dead gorgeous women in this house? Is Martha Kent hiding them all in her barn?!

He should’ve returned home to Smallville a long ass time ago then! Are they sisters? Cousins?

God Oliver wouldn’t be surprised if another showed up within the next few seconds. His grin is just growing by the minute he’s standing at their doorstep.

Honestly Oliver doesn’t care, all he knows that Mrs. Martha Kent was hiding beautiful women in this house and no one thought to tell him.

“Hey.” Said the blonde women, taking a breath when she sees him.

“Hi.” Ollie replied with a charming smile.

The women keeps on smiling at him. Again, gorgeous! Ollie internally winces, he’s been blessed today but doesn’t know how to truly handle it.

He likes both women’s beautiful grins and hint of amusements in the older ones voice.

Lois chuckled, smiling onto the way this man carried himself. Just like her friend, she found him super cute. Charming like a prince, but layback like a cool surfer boy.

Meanwhile the way he dressed screamed business causal with a hint of a playfulness that she liked.

“I’m Oliver.” He said offering another sunny smile.

“Lois. Lois Lane.” Said the blonde women with a grin, shaking his hand.

“And I’m Lucy, as you already gather from that.” Added the brunette with a smile.

“I had. Can i say, it’s a real pleasure to meet both of you, ladies.” He purred.

Lucy tried holding back a giggled, bitting the inside of her cheek and nodding.

Lois chuckled, holding up five bucks to him and said, “You know with a face like that, you can do a lot better than playing errand boy to the rich and arrogant.”

“Thank you very much but what is-is?” Oliver replied with a smile, sorta confused.

“You’re tip.”

“It’s a tip. Okay.”

“Seriously, aim higher.”

“Listen um—”

But before he could finished, Lois slammed the door in his face with a smile and walked back to her place on the kitchen counter. Oliver stood there, huffing not getting a moment to come out with a full sentence.

Lucy laughed shrugged watching her mother come in and ask Lois Lane who was at the door, as you can see the total embarrassment and emotions of regret wash over her punky friend’s face. The realization fell on both of their faces as her mother causally told them who that guy actually was.

As her mother left, Lois looked at her friends muttering, “That was Oliver Queen.”

“Yup!” Lucy replies wincing at the foolish timing at their actions and quickly race out of the door.

“Where are you going?!” Yelled Lois from her seat, watching the brunette go.

“To grab a coffee with Oliver Queen!”

“Ohh! I’m gonna go apologize to your mom.”

“And I gotta apologize to him.”

———

Once Lucy was stumbling out of the steps of their nicely sized two story house, popping out her the collar to her jacket, the women looked around for the man. Never mind that, she was wondering if he came by car or foot!

Cause if this man came by either motorcycle or something, it would definitely harder to catch up to the blonde. Moments like this she wished she had Clark’s X-Ray vision or super speedy legs but sadly she wasn’t given the time to wonder, as out of the far left corner of her eye she saw it.

A deep black cherry car driven past the fields of the small freshly grounded land. There he was. She scurried out the gateway, racing past the tall grass and chilly weather trying to reach the car.

She ran up as fast as she could, trying to reach at least close to the side of the car, yellling out his name.

“Oliver! Hey!” She yelled out repeatedly when suddenly a screeching halt was loud that the cows from a yard away might’ve heard it.

Oliver heard a mix of yelling, shouting and screaming from behind the far right of his ear, looking at the rear view mirror to see the brunette from earlier. He gasped slightly, with a cheeky chuckle at the sight. She looked kinda silly racing toward a car that ran faster than her.

He started to slow down his car, wanting to tease the women a bit speeding up once he saw she got closer. Oliver laughed, reversing his energy into driving the car to the quickest speed he could without causing any damage or anything to the road.

Finally he noticed that he was wasting time, yelling back a joke about how slow she was as he came into a screeching halt that was too loud. He leaned against his driver seat, seeing her benched over her knees panting and huffing, mumbling softly ‘finally’.

He opened the door for her and told her hand, helping her inside the passenger seat with a soft smile and tossed her a water bottle. She quietly thanked him by taking the water and downing a large gulp, breathing heavily with a chuckle.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She asked with a smile, shaking her head.

“I did. But what the hell made you think you can outrun a Supercar?” He joked with a matching smile.

“Uh, i don’t know. But you slowed down a few times?”

“I was trying to see if you can take the heat.”

“Not funny. And not nice either, Mr. Queen?”

“Mr. Queen? Who told you?”

She panted with another chuckled, “My mother, she confirmed who you were. Lois didn’t know.”

“I can tell.” He replies holding up the 5 bucks from earlier, “She tipped me! But it’s fine, I wasn’t thinking straight either.”

“I can tell. You were kinda out of it. My mom wants to hopefully meet up with you later, if that’s alright?”

“I was hoping i would have time to meet her this afternoon anyway. I can do 5 o’clock.”

“Why 5? She’s free to talk now, if you like.”

“No, because I think i owe Senator Kent’s daughter small lunch after what i did. You know, trying to make a first impression on her?”

“Well played. Sure I’ll love that, Ollie.”

He smiled at the nickname, taking her out of a small drive around the town before a quick lunch at The Talon. Hopefully next time he can take her or Lois Lane out to Metropolis for a date.

She returned the smile, liking him already seeing something unique within this man, who just met but she didn’t what it is yet.

Little did she know that, Oliver Queen would become a longtime friend and future part of her extended-family.

——

———

AHH! ☺️ I had fun writing this it’s been in my drafts for ages!!! Let me know what you think 💭

For the those of who are wondering about Lex Luthor and Lucy Kent? Don’t worry I’m working on something special yet specific for them! 😉

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @aidanxsophxoxo @rickb-chaos @starkleila @infinetlyforgotten @meiramel @sherloquestea @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @yetanotherwells @ximehs @rose-of-oz @rowinablx

[olailamajnoon]

The Greatest Heroes of Earth, ladies and gents!

[green-quiver]

new beginnings

Pairing: Oliver Queen x Reader Summary: The first time you meet Oliver Queen Word Count: 1,068 Trigger Warning: None

The first time you meet Oliver Queen, the world feels different. It's not every day you encounter someone who embodies the paradox of a billionaire playboy with a brooding, almost haunted air. Standing there at the event—some lavish, high-profile charity gala downtown—you barely register the extravagance of the venue, all the gold accents and crystal chandeliers, as your eyes fall on him.

He moves through the crowd like he's part of it but separate at the same time. People part around him, not because he commands attention overtly, but because there's something about him. The sharp cut of his tuxedo, perfectly tailored to his athletic frame, is a stark contrast to the casual, almost distracted way he glances around the room. His hair is neatly styled, but there’s a rugged edge to his appearance, something raw and untamed lurking just beneath the surface. It's in the tension in his shoulders, the way he scans his surroundings, calculating, never fully at ease.

The first thing you notice as you edge closer is his eyes. They're green, piercing, and they hold a depth that draws you in and makes you curious. He's talking to a small group, some local politicians, perhaps, and a few well-dressed socialites, but there's a distance in his expression, like he's going through the motions without really being present.

And then it happens. His gaze flickers over the room, and for a split second, it locks onto yours. It's fleeting, but it hits you like a jolt of electricity. You freeze. He doesn't linger, his eyes moving past you like they were never there in the first place, but the sensation stays with you. It's like he's seen something about you no one else does, even though he didn't really look. It’s unsettling, yet fascinating.

You busy yourself with a glass of champagne, trying to shake off the odd feeling when you hear a voice behind you. “Not your kind of scene either?”

You turn, and there he is, Oliver Queen, standing right next to you. Up close, he’s even more striking, though there’s a roughness to him that the perfect suit doesn’t quite hide. His jawline is strong, with just a hint of stubble, and you notice the faintest of scars above his brow—almost unnoticeable, but there if you’re looking close enough.

You blink, caught off guard, but manage a smile. “I’m just here for the free drinks.”

His lips twitch into something that might almost be a smile, but it never quite reaches his eyes. “You and me both.”

There’s a beat of silence, but it’s not awkward. In fact, it’s as though the rest of the room falls away for a moment, leaving just the two of you standing there, watching each other.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” you finally say, though it’s more of an observation than a question. Of course you know who he is. Everyone knows who he is. Oliver Queen, the heir to Queen Consolidated, the man who came back from the dead after five years lost at sea.

He quirks an eyebrow. “Oliver Queen.”

His name carries weight, as if it should mean something more than just two words, and it does. But there’s something in the way he says it, almost reluctantly, as if it doesn’t quite fit him anymore. As if, somehow, he’s outgrown the name.

“I know,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

Something flickers in his eyes again—amusement, perhaps? But it’s gone too quickly to tell. He tilts his head, studying you, and for a moment you wonder if he can see right through you, if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. It’s unsettling, the intensity of his gaze, but you hold it.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

You tell him, your voice steady, though your heart is beating just a little faster than usual. There's something about being the focus of his attention that makes you hyperaware of every movement, every breath.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, his voice soft but deep, with a hint of something that feels like distance. He’s right here in front of you, but you get the sense that part of him is somewhere else, somewhere far away. It's like he’s carrying the weight of a thousand memories, each one darker than the last, and they're pulling him down even as he stands in this bright, glittering room.

Before you can say anything else, someone from the crowd—a woman in an elegant gown—approaches him, interrupting the moment. He glances at her, then back at you, and for a brief second, it looks like he might stay, might continue whatever this conversation was going to be. But then, with a small nod, he excuses himself and disappears back into the crowd.

You watch him go, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. He’s a hard man to figure out, Oliver Queen. On the surface, he’s charming enough, playing the part of the billionaire philanthropist, but there’s something underneath that makes you think he’s more than just what people see. He’s hiding something. Or maybe he’s just hiding from himself.

As the evening wears on, you catch glimpses of him here and there, mingling with the elite, shaking hands, smiling politely. But every time, there’s that same sense of detachment, as if he’s going through the motions but not really present. And yet, there’s also something dangerous about him. It’s not overt, not in the way he talks or carries himself, but it’s there, just beneath the surface. A simmering intensity, like he’s a coiled spring, waiting for the right moment to release.

You find yourself wondering what kind of life he’s lived—what could turn a man like Oliver Queen into the person standing in front of you now. The news stories paint one picture: a reckless playboy turned survivor, turned philanthropist. But the person you met, even in those brief moments, seems far more complex. There’s a darkness in him, something that the lights of this glamorous world can’t quite erase.

As you leave the gala that night, you can’t shake the feeling that your encounter with Oliver Queen wasn’t just a chance meeting. There was something about it—about him—that felt like the beginning of something, though you don’t quite know what. You tell yourself it’s probably nothing, just a fleeting moment in a world where such moments are common.

But deep down, you know better.

[pricetagofficial]

Day 22: Santa Claus

Pairing: Oliver Queen x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, and Lian being too sneaky for her own good.

A/N: Welcome to day 22! 3 Days until Christmas! This one was inspired by a scenario I came up with for my Marvel OC, and I wanted to bring the idea over here. Header by me, divider by @cafekitsune

Masterlist

You watched from afar as the man of the hour came into the party. For the last hour, kids of all ages were begging, pleading with their parents to see if they knew when the big man in red would come by.

While they were begging, you were upstairs helping Oliver into the suit.

You and Oliver were the hosts for the Annual Justice League Christmas Party this year, and it was an all-out event. Not only were the League members present, but so were their families.

Roy had even come with his daughter, Lian, who was especially excited to see Santa.

So when Oliver came into the room dressed as Santa, there was a soft gasp until he was quickly rushed by a bunch of children.

Diana helped you get a line set up, with the kids all ready and bouncing, excited to tell him what they wanted for Christmas.

One by one, each kid who lined up got their chance to sit with Santa and tell him what they wanted.

Oliver was a natural at it. He was goofy but stern and it warmed your heart to see him with the kids. It made you want to have one of your own.

Sure Roy saw you as a mother figure, but you weren't part of raising him. You and Oliver had only been married for a few years now, so maybe it was time.

Lian was the last one in line, and true to her spicy-self no nonsense attitude, she told Santa exactly what she wanted as Roy tried to coax his daughter into lowering her standards.

Once the kids were done, you helped Santa out of the room and headed towards the kitchen where he would get some cookies and then go back to the North Pole.

"You're so good with them," you smiled, leaning against the counter as you took a nibble of a cookie.

Oliver smiled, still clad in his Santa costume as he bit the head off a snowman cookie.

"Christmas is supposed to be special, what kind of host would I be if it wasn't?"

Setting your cookie down, you walked over and slid your arms around his waist. "Well, for what it's worth I think you're amazing, Santa." you teased.

"It got me thinking, what if we had one of our own?"

Oliver's eyes widened at you in surprise. "You're serious?"

You couldn't fight the giggles as you nodded.

"Then I say the second everyone leaves, we get to it baby." he grinned, pulling you into a kiss.

What neither of you noticed was a small girl watching from around the corner as you kissed Santa Claus. Quickly she ducked around the corner and took off running before her daddy noticed she was missing.

Lian only had one thing on her mind for the rest of the night, who was going to tell Oli you were kissing Santa Claus?

[persephassax]

I've got a story brewing in my head about JayRoy in a long distance relationship because Roy lives in Star with Lian to be near his family and Jason is crime lording it up in Gotham/not leaving his hometown because.... Bats. But Roy and Jay eventually realize that what they thought was working -- having Jason split time between Gotham and Star and being an active participant in Lian's life (as is Jade) has actually not been okay with Lian. And then they have to figure out how to move forward from there.

This is a quick little illustration I did of the beginning scene where Lian goes to Roy and tells him what's been on her mind and he's horrified and upset about what he hears from her and (after lots of cuddles and kisses and reassurances) he's off to call Jason and make sure, by whatever means necessary, that Lian has no reason to continue to feel like this.

I made myself sad making Lian this upset. So now I really have to write the story so I can fix everything. Yikes!

[kateswallofweird]

oliver queen / the arrow x you ; tw mentions of infidelity (none of it true), hurt comfort

💭 written with smallville in mind but anything goes

oliver queen is a stubborn son of a bitch. he's cocky and obnoxious, and he likes to be antagonistic just because he can be. sarcasm is a second language to him, and there's no stopping him once he's set his mind to something.

when you first met him, you fell in love with his every quality. because despite his stubbornness, he knew how to let his reigns go for you. he was cocky and obnoxious, but he was sweet behind closed doors, a side of him reserved only for you. his sarcasm was just humor then, and his antagonism was forgiveable. you saw his drive as ambition and a yearning for success.

but sitting here now at the end of your bed—your shared bed with a tear-streaked face and frustration bubbling within you, you weren't so sure you saw the man you fell in love with in the image of oliver queen anymore.

"i am not cheating on you." you wiped your face with a shaky hand, trying to catch your breath as air evaded you. "i would never cheat on you," and you're begging him to believe you because it's true.

but hard-ridden by the years of distrust and hurt from his time on that forsaken island and the years he spent before it as a rich kid everyone was just trying to scam, oliver doesn't know if it's the fear of being right or the fear of being eaten by his insecurity that takes him over.

"i don't know," he breathes.

i love you.

it's what you want to tell him, but you know him. you know that love and affection, as much as he craves it, it's not enough to sway him alone. so you bite your tongue and you take as deep of a breath as you can before you speak again.

"what did you see? o-or what are you sensing or smelling or hearing that you think i'd—" you're nauseous at the mere idea of it, the rumors that might have shook him so deeply it came to this or the thought that someone was snaking their way so maliciously into his head, "that i'd hurt you this way, what are you thinking? talk to me. oliver, please."

his eyes find yours, and deep down he knows he's wrong, but some tiny miniscule part of him is still doubtful. he's good at reading people, so he knows you're telling the truth, but love to him has always been this ugly, terrible thing. and the darker part of his mind whispers, vulnerability, to him. weakness, it insists, and for some reason he wants to listen.

"i-" his voice cracks. "i don't know," he repeats. "i don't know."

and you try not to let any more tears slip when you reach for him and he flinches. (does he flinch because he's scared of you or of himself?) but you persist and oliver relaxes into your touch. your hand finds his and it fits so easily.

"but you know me," you say. "even if you don't trust me, you know who i am."

oliver is quiet. he's trying so hard to stay logical. who are you? he thinks, but the thoughts are so loud. the price of being a hero of the night eats away at him. but he thinks anyway. he thinks about the times you've stayed up in the early hours of the morning to patch him up after a rough patrol. he thinks about the time he first told you about his other life, and you started to cry because you were so sad he'd bore this alone this entire time. he thinks about when he met you and all the joy that followed. because you were a breath of fresh air, his missing puzzle piece.

"i'm sorry," he whispers. he brings your hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss to your skin. "i'm a mess."

"so am i," you answer, pulling him into a hug and letting him rest against you. "we're going to be okay, oliver."

[gothamite-rambler]

"To the Batmobile!" Wonder Woman said, ignoring Batman

Wonder Woman: We need to get to the city in style.

Wonder Woman glanced at Batman, who was busy texting his kids about their missions for the night. She seized the moment to suggest something daring.

Wonder Woman (clearing her throat): Let’s take Batman’s car!

Batman (looking up from his phone): What?

Superman: Yes! I call shotgun!

Batman: No way, we’re not doing this.

Wonder Woman (snapping her fingers): Shoot. That’s fine, I’m a passenger princess anyway.

Batman (confused and annoyed): You’re not—what did you just say?

Green Lantern (interjecting): I want in! I’ve only been in the car once.

Batman (raising his voice): Nobody is getting in my car to drive to City Hall!

Wonder Woman: Oh, come on, it’s just for a meeting that’s not that far. It’d be pointless for us to fly there. You can drive, with a few fun stops along the way.

Superman: We can grab lunch on the way!

Batman: I don’t care if it gets you there faster—I’m not letting you sit in it! Take Arrow’s… whatever he has; he’s rich, too.

Arrow clutched his keys and bolted for the stairs.

Arrow: Sorry man, car is packed with arrows. Meet you there! Bye!

Arrow dashed down the stairs without another word.

Batman: I hate that guy sometimes.

Batman sighed heavily.

Wonder Woman (smiling): We’ll meet you out front then?

Batman (exhaling in exhaustion): I—sure.

The three cheered and headed out, leaving Batman at the table, covering his face with his hands and letting out a groan.

Batman: I can’t stand having them in my car. They’ll want to stop for McDonald’s or something, eat in my car, and I’ll end up cleaning it because Clark always gets ketchup on my upholstery! God damn it!

John Stewart (Green Lantern) walked over and patted Batman on the shoulder.

John: Do the right thing, man. It's just them. I have a car I can drive, so you don’t have to worry about me.

Batman nodded, relenting. He entered the elevator, sighing in defeat.

Batman: This is what makes me a good person.

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2023: Day 27 - Record-Breaker

Mallard Broke the World Speed Record; It Broke Her:

4468 Mallard broke the world steam speed record in 1938, changing her life forever…

1938:

The quiet, almost timid engine sat in the works, listening to the workers. “You hear? That engine there is fastest in the world!” one said, pointing to the famous engine. Mallard blinked, amazed. She’d never been told if she’d actually broken the record – but to hear that she had, and to hear that it was major news! It was incredible.

There was no one better than her in that moment – she was the greatest!

“Ah, the engine of the hour!” cheered a voice. Mallard gazed down, spotting Sir Nigel Gresley himself walking over. Mallard gasped in amazement. The Chief Mechanical Engineer almost never visited his engines. “I came to congratulate you again, Mallard. I am proud of you – you are truly a credit to this railway. The poster child for what every Northeaster engine should strive for. Well done, and keep up the good work, Mallard.”

Mallard beamed, thanking her designer. Then, she turned to the gossiping workers. “Well? You heard him – I need to be back in service now! Hurry it up!”

1963:

“So, which of us is to be preserved?” asked Silver Link, staring down apprehensively at the members of the British Railways board. The men had come to decide on a Gresley Pacific to save from the scrapper’s torch.

“Who do you think?” snorted one of the men in the bowler hats. “We must choose the locomotive that achieved the greatest feat of a steam locomotive – 60022 Mallard, you are to be restored to your LNER looks and sent to the Museum of British Transport Museum. The rest of you… hope someone purchases you.”

Silver Link just stared in shock as several diesels sniggered in the background. “But I… but… She didn’t even make it back to London! I am the first! I reached 114—” “Stop speaking 60014, there is no reason for you to complain. You are already withdrawn, and shall be sent away once we have the time.” “Mallard… are you going to allow this?” asked Silver Link, eyes wide in horror. “Well, elder sister, some of us are just… more important than others. I represent our class, and I am the best at such an honour.” Silver Link went red in the face, but Mallard was already steaming away, blowing smoke at her elder sister.

Behind Silver Link, Flying Scotsman and Silver King shared a nervous look.

1975:

Flying Scotsman sat on the points outside the brand new York National Railway Museum, Green Arrow on one side and Gordon on the other. It was the first time that the four had seen each other – the fourth being an indignant Mallard sat opposite them.

“What do you mean, he’s worthy of being the same level as me?” sniffed Mallard. “He’s a mixed traffic engine!” “Green Arrow is an LNER engine, same as us,” reminded Scott crossly, facing down his cousin. “And there are only nine LNER Pacifics left, so your levels are completely worthless! We need to end this… this… this…” “Elitist garbage!” Gordon snapped. “We are long past this, cousin. What’s stopping you from accepting Green Arrow?” “Green Arrow is a simple mixed traffic engine,” hissed Mallard. “I am the greatest steam engine to have ever been built! No one has ever, or will ever, beat my record. There’s a reason that I am in this museum, and you are out slaving away to keep in steam.”

“Slaving away?!” Gordon let off steam furiously. Scott just clenched his jaw. “There’s no point arguing with her,” he sighed. “We’re better off just getting the rest on side.” The three steamed away, leaving Mallard to be pushed gently back into the grand museum by a timid diesel shunter.

None of the other engines in the museum spoke to her as she was shunted into place. Not Evening Star, not Aerolite, not Coppernob. They all just shot her dark glances.

1988:

Mallard sped along the line, feeling the wind rush past her face. “I forgot what this was like,” she huffed, finally arriving back at Doncaster after crossing the country to reach Scarborough and back. Several relatives of her crew from back when she’d broken the world record sat in her coaches – but they were inconsequential. After all, any crew could have gotten her up to her record-breaking speed.

“So, how was the run?” asked Gordon politely, sitting in the next platform over. Mallard ignored him. Gordon rolled his eyes. Green Arrow and Spencer shared a look.

“I’m impressed,” hummed Spencer. “Though I’ve heard that the East Germans have built a steam locomotive that’s almost able to match Mallard’s speed.” Mallard’s eye twitched. “No they haven’t!” she suddenly snarled, spooking several of the passengers on the platform. “I am the fastest. That’s my role! Don’t talk such drivel around me.”

Spencer sighed. As the only one of Mallard’s siblings willing to speak to her, and one of only four engines that had spoken to Mallard (he’d checked with Duchess of Hamilton) in the last ten years, he was uniquely able to see just how much his younger sister had changed.

Where Mallard had once been a healthy pale, her pallor had grown almost dangerously blue – while her formerly vibrant eyes had gone dull, with just a hint of something… unsettling in them. And yet her paintwork was spotless, her brass polished until it glistened in the sun, even after a full run with passengers.

“Are you alright?” asked Spencer quietly. Gordon and Green Arrow pretended not to hear. “I beg your pardon?!” roared Mallard, spooking yet more passengers. “Are you insinuating something?! That such a simple run would tire me out? I am the fastest steam engine in the world – I am more than competent, thank you.” “I just wanted to ch—” “Well don’t!” sneered Mallard. “I am fine.”

Spencer’s tentative frown turned downwards into a scowl, and the great silver engine hissed steam as he started away. Gordon watched him go, knowing deep in the pit of his boiler that the silver engine wouldn’t be back.

Silver King had never truly forgiven his younger sister for the way she’d spoken to Silver Link, even if his name had changed, as had his owners and his lifestyle.

2013:

Spencer, Bittern, Dominion of Canada, Dwight D Eisenhower, Union of South Africa, and Sir Nigel Gresley all stood in awkward silence. Their sister – Mallard – was being wheeled out of the museum for a photoshoot. “So… did you hear her last night?” asked Dwight quietly. “She was screaming at the shunting diesels again.” “I can’t believe they made me agree to his,” hissed Spencer. “I promised myself after 1988 – never again. And yet here I am. At least Scott gets to hide in the workshops.” “It cannot be that bad?” tried Woodcock – only the humans called her Dominion of Canada, “I mean… she has to have made some friends in there, right?” “Unlikely,” snorted Osprey – the humans had given her that name in the 1980s, and she much preferred it to ‘Union of South Africa’, “she spends most of her days just glaring at everyone. Last I heard, it’s a real treat for them when she gets brought out here to be gawked at.”

“Shh! Shh! She’s coming,” warned Bittern. The six all went silent as Mallard was dragged off the turntable and over to the line of engines.

“Ah, good, you all made it,” Mallard said haughtily. “It’s what I deserve, getting the humans to bring you all here to celebrate our class’s greatest achievement.” “What you—” Osprey cut off, indignant. Beyond her, Dwight gawked in shock while Spencer just rolled his eyes. The shunter braked the famous engine to a stop, jolting slightly.

“Did you just jolt me?” hissed Mallard, voice deathly quiet. The shunter gulped. “Don’t you dare!” snapped Spencer, speaking to the world-record holder for the first time in nearly thirty years. “You cannot deride these hard-working engines, I refuse to allow it!” “Oh? As if you are any better, Mr Private Engine,” sneered Mallard. “Silver King, the weird runt of the class who galivants off to that backwards island where our Crewe-rebuilt cousin lives.” “Gordon still pulls his express!” roared Spencer, letting off steam furiously. “Gordon treats everyone with respect! He’s a far better representative of our railway than you are – he’s out there, pulling passengers and acting as the ambassador for Gresley’s work. He holds a record for the longest-serving express engine in the world!”

“He has Midland parts,” snarled Mallard. “He’s a mongrel of parts, and I can’t stand him! I can’t stand him and his righteousness! This is my celebration, my record, my museum! He can talk when he has a proper record of his own. Let’s see him try and beat me – oh wait, didn’t he lose his dome last time he attempted that?”

None of the other A4s spoke, and the moment the photoshoot was over, all four in steam left, taking Dwight and Woodcock with them, leaving Mallard alone.

2016:

Flying Scotsman sat outside the NRM, steam wafting from his funnel. He was the last one left. Spencer had permanently relocated to Sodor after 2013, the other A4s steered clear of York Museum, Gordon had his own work, and Green Arrow had moved to Shildon. So, it was only him left to talk to her.

“Oh, it’s the money pit.” “Mallard. I came to say goodbye.” “Goodbye? Where are you going, Gresley Disgrace?” “I’m going to run mainline excursions,” Flying Scotsman replied evenly. “I’m not going to have to listen to you anymore when you scream abuse at the others or rant about the new PRR engine.” “Rant? Abuse? 4472, you don’t understand! I am Gresley’s pride and joy! I am the greatest – he would roll over in his grave if he saw you now. It’s my destiny to be the greatest – and everyone needs to accept that!” “Sir Nigel Gresley loved us all equally,” snapped Flying Scotsman. “And don’t you forget, any one of your class—”

“I did it!” roared Mallard. “Me! Not any of you! I am the world record breaker – I am the greatest steam engine of all time! You’re nothing compared to me! I am Sir Nigel’s triumph! I am the legacy of the Northeasters! Me! How dare you speed to me like that?! Learn your place!”

Flying Scotsman stared evenly back at the shrieking engine. “I have,” he said simply. “And it’s not here. The other engines can survive listening to your abuse, but I don’t have to. You’re nothing, Mallard. Not anymore. You sit here, on this siding, in this shed, and you cling to the past because that’s all you’ll ever have.”

Flying Scotsman puffed out of the shed, the wrecked screams of his cousin following him through the sliding shed doors. They transformed from howls of rage into a hail of screeching tears, as Mallard’s entire self-worth crashed down on her. The former icon of steam and speed finally lost it, all the rage and anger and simmering hatred growing inside her frames boiling over as she cursed her cousin.

Flying Scotsman couldn’t help but feel sorry for the engine – but all the same, she had spent decades wrecking their designer’s good name with her attitude. Her stardom had placed her up on a pedestal – one where the loneliness of fame had engulfed her.

Back to Master Post

[amelia-queen-black]

Night Visit

An unusual noise disrupted the calm of the night. Oliver sat up carefully, his eyes wide open in the semi-darkness of his cell. Muffled voices. People walking down the corridors. This was strange, the guards patrolled alone at night, and if prisoners had somehow escaped their cells, they wouldn’t be chatting away but would try to be discrete. Intrigued and on guard, he sat on the edge of his bed, the cold concrete under his naked feet chasing away the last remnants of sleep.

Two figures recognizable at a glance appeared in his field of view through the bars and his jaw almost dropped in surprise. He had to resist the urge to pinch his arm in order to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. No way. These two idiots didn’t just break into the most secure jail of the country to help him escape.

“We should have gone by the control room to find out which cell he’s in.”

“No need, we’ll find him easily, super vision, remember?”

“If I used my speed, we would find him even faster.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and moved to the bars with muffled steps. They didn’t even have a well-established plan for their attempt to free him. These two were incorrigible.

“We’ve talked about it, you’re likely to wake everybody up by entering their cells and raising their sheets to see their faces.”

“Not to mention that some sights might scar you for life,” Oliver said.

Barry pulled a face in disgust before reacting and running up to his cell while Kara smiled from ear to ear as she came up at normal speed, carrying two boxes in her arms. The two superheroes seemed out of place with their colourful suits in this grey setting. They shouldn’t be here.

“You should leave,” Oliver said. “I can’t escape and become a fugitive, my family…”

“Yeah, yeah, we know, Dig explained everything,” Barry interrupted. “Is that how you greet your friends? Also, can we talk about the beard?”

More on AO3: Night Visit