They happen a lot.
They yell, scream, insult each other, spit venom, however you want to call it.
Sometimes it’s small, unimportant things, but sometimes it’s a huge fight.
But they still go home together. And they still go to bed together. And in the morning, when one of them tries to apologize, the other brushes it off, saying that it’s not necessary.
They’re usually late for work the day after a big fight. Because they loose track of time when they’re desperately kissing away all the anger.
Oliver was very unprepared. And so was Felicity.
So Oliver took a few seconds to get his bearings and introduce himself. Mama Smoak was unimpressed, barely sparing him a look.
Her whole trip to Starling, it seemed like she spent half the time being unimpressed with Oliver, and the rest of the time pointing out Felicity’s flaws.
It pissed Oliver off. But he kept his mouth shut, for Felicity’s sake.
But after the woman left back to Vegas, Oliver made sure to do anything in his power to convince Felicity that she is so much better that her mother thinks she is.
'I'm too tired for this conversation', she sighed when Oliver opened up the subject.
So he drove them to her house, waited until she changed into her pajamas, waited until she searched for clothes her exes left behind that would fit him. Then Oliver all but dragged her to her bed, and got in with her, ignoring her protests and snuggling up to her under her covers.
Then, he started talking. Until Felicity fell asleep.
When he came back from the island, Oliver barely got used to sleeping in a bed. So he wasn’t the problem.
Felicity was. She was absolutely chaotic in bed. Not during sex, we’re not talking about that, but when she slept, she was all over the place.
She moved, a lot. Not just once Oliver woke up with a foot to the face. Or an elbow in the stomach. Most nights, Felicity’s pillow would end up on the floor, and the blanket would end up under her head.
Oliver didn’t really care. Because when he woke up in the morning, he’d usually pick Felicity up and arrange her around his body. She doesn’t wake up, but she sighs in her sleep and settles for a couple of more minutes of sleep, surrounded by Oliver’s body.
She doesn’t believe Oliver, when he tells her she’s a menace.
One night, though, when Felicity comes home, she just jumps on him, hugging him tightly, apologizing between kisses. She tells him that she taped the bed last night, all night, and she looked at the footage and saw the torture she put him through.
Oliver laughed. A lot. Then he asked her is she was willing to tape them again, as he pushed his hand under her skirt.
Oliver tried, once. He broke three plates and soaked the front of his shirt.
He brought a dishwasher the next day. Felicity rolled her eyes, saying she didn’t have a problem with doing the dishes.
'For forever?', Oliver grinned cheekily.
Felicity paused, eyes growing wide. She blinked, then scrunched up her nose. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’
He can always see when she’s nervous. If someone asked him what were her tales, he couldn’t really say. But he always knows when she’s nervous. So he makes sure to soothe her, even a bit. A hand on her back usually helps. Directing her by gently grabbing her elbow. A smile. Saying her name to stop her for babbling. It works.
Felicity, though. She knows Oliver’s tales. When he’s nervous, he clenches his jaw, grinds his teeth. He gets this crinkle frown between his brows and if it’s a very stressful situation, she knows Oliver would rub his fingers together. Like he’d have an arrow in his hand, and he’d be playing with the feathers. She doesn’t always manage to soothe him, but she always tries.
Like how the landlord had no problem with THE APARTMENT BEING FLOODED and kids messing around with the wiring. Like how the neighbors didn’t call the police when they heard WEIRD WOLVES HOWLING.