thea sisters

Being Oliver and Thea Queen’s Younger Sibling Would Include...

☆ Your parents spoiled you like they did to Oliver and Thea, but you were a bit calmer than your two older siblings. You tried to be down to earth as much as possible.

☆ Thea is wrapped around your finger. She loves you so much as she always wanted a younger sibling.

☆ You tell Oliver he’s too stubborn on a daily basis.

☆ You never agreed with Oliver’s playboy actions, but you still tried to support him in whatever he did. You encouraged him to go to college.

☆ Oliver would do anything for you. He punched a paparazzo after they got too close to you and asked many personal questions. You had to drag Oliver out of the scene, laughing and reassuring him that you were okay.

☆ When you were told the news about Oliver and your father being dead, you were devastated.

☆ You tried to cheer yourself and Thea up after the death of Oliver and your father.

☆ With Oliver gone, Thea stepped up as the “protective” older sister role.

☆ Thea would invite you to go to parties, but she made sure you wouldn’t do drugs. She knew what she was doing could potentially ruin her life, and Thea wanted you to have a good life.

☆ When Oliver came home, you were overjoyed. You were frightened that something would take your older brother away again, so you hugged Oliver even when he protested. Secretly, Oliver lived for your tight hugs.

☆ Oliver is a lot more protective than Thea, but both have their “protective sibling” moments.

☆ If you start dating someone, they will interview the person very seriously. If they don’t like the person or get a bad feeling about them, Oliver and Thea will be watching their every move or scare them away.

☆ Oliver and Thea didn’t want to tell you about being vigilantes as they believed telling you would put you in danger. When they did tell you, you were surprised but even more proud of your vigilante brother and sister.

☆ You were shocked when you found both of them had killed people. You were a bit nervous at first, but you soon realized that they had changed. Hugs were exchanged that day.

☆ Oliver and Thea agreed to train you in case you were attacked. After you finished training, they wanted you on Team Arrow as you were an excellent fighter. On missions, they’d always be a few steps away to make sure you were okay.

☆ The whole team loves you. Each one of them tries to teach them some of their mastered skills.

☆ You three had family dinner nights every other week. Most of the time, they were interrupted, but when they weren’t, Oliver would cook, or you or Thea would order takeout. Either way, it was a great night for you three to relax and converse.

☆ Once you reached your full potential alongside Thea and Oliver, you three enjoyed having competitions on who could knock out the most people during missions.

☆ Oliver forces you to stay behind with Felicity (who, of course, loves you like family) on missions that he believes are dangerous. Thea, sometimes, tries to protest and get you to come with, but most of the time, she nods along and gives you a sad look before heading out.

A/N: Oliver would be my #1 pick in the DC universe if I could choose an older brother, I think… Barry’s pretty close though. 

* NOT MY GIF *

want to read more oliver queen imagines? click me! thea queen imagines? click me!

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laurel lance memorial week: day 3 - favorite relationship(s)
“i feel like she’s the backbone for a lot of these characters, and she tries to see the best in people, and she is a strong woman, and i love that.”

But You Were Dead [Sibling! O. Queen]

Request: How about an Oliver imagine where he finds out the reader is his younger sister when she returns to the city after being presumed dead for years? Maybe? Ps I just read all your imagines

I absolutely loved this so thank you for the request! And I’m sorry for all my sucky imagines lol, I hope you enjoyed them!


The cold November wind nipped at your skin, blowing your hair back to send chilly tingles down your neck. Your held your hoodie closer to your body, trying to seek some kind of warmth. You didn’t know where you were or how you got there. Oliver was gone. Dad was gone. And Malcolm….

The name sent a new wave of shivers down your spine. He was the reason you were out here. You overheard him talking with someone about the sinking of the Queen’s Gambit. Malcolm had said that he was pleased that his plan had worked.

So naturally, you called him out on it. Then came the threats, and the broken mirror, and now here you were, running desperately away from your house and the man who broke it. Your cheek was bleeding from where Malcolm had slammed your head into the mirror, but you didn’t care. You had to get out of there, or your mother and Thea would be next.

Out of breath and freezing, you collapsed on the ground. You were twelve. Twelve. And you knew you were going to die.

And then, you passed out.


It has been five, nearly six years, since Oliver Queen returned. His father had not. Thea and Moira Queen couldn’t care less. Mr. Queen opened up a night club called Verdant, that has been the go-to party place since it’s opening. In other news, the glades have been leveled, but thanks to the mysterious man known as ‘The Hood’, many lives were saved that night. Malcolm Merlyn, the man responsible, was found dead on a rooftop the following afternoon. His son, Tommy Merlyn, was also killed in the leveling. Moira Queen also admitted to knowing of the plan to level the glades, and has hearby been remaining in jail until her trial. The Hood seemed to have disappeared for a while, but he soon came back with a message and a new name: The Arrow.

The newspapers and magazines were flooded with the same story for the past week and a half. Oliver rolled his eyes. Of course they’d start with him and not say anything about his baby sibling, Y/N.

When he’d returned from the island, he expected to find his family how he left it. It wasn’t. His father was dead (though he knew that), Thea was getting into drugs, Moira had remarried, and you were no where to be found. Thea told him that you’d run away after you heard the news that he and Robert had died. No one could find you. Everyone said you were dead. Oliver was heartbroken.

It caused him to be much more rutheless in his vigilante duties. That is, until Tommy died. He’d run off back to Lian Yu for a good handful of months until Dig and Felicity had brought him home. He reunited with his family once again, but again, it was different. Moira was in jail, Walter had walked out (though Oliver didn’t blame him), Roy and Thea had a thing, and you and Dad were still gone.

“Ollie,” Thea sung, snapping her fingers in Oliver’s face, “Oliver!” Oliver looked up from the newspaper to his younget sister. “Hm? Sorry, it’s that time of year again,” he frowned, “(She/He) wohld have been eighteen next month.” He put the newspaper up as Thea’s hand ran up and down his arm comfortingly. “Don’t think about it, okay big brother,” Thea sighed, “I’m sure Y/N is better off gone than stuck in this hell of a city.”

Oliver opened his mouth to scold her for being heartless, when a street clerk started shouting at someone. “Oi, little boy! You need to pay for that!” He yelled. Oliver turned to see a small boy – no older than ten – running off with a loaf of bread in hand. The clerk began to run after him with a rolling pin.

Oliver took off, ignoring Thea’s shouts of his name. Sure, the little boy stole the bread, but the clerk doesn’t need to beat him with a rolling pin. The boy turned a corner and was trapped. He backed up against the wall in fear, clutching the bread close. “Give that back, you little weasel.” The clerk seethed.

Oliver went to lunge at the clerk as he raised the rolling pin to strike the boy, when someone swooped down and kicked the clerk in the face. The clerk stumbled back in surprise. “What, are you working with this little thief?” The clerk snapped at the figure.

“No,” they spoke, “but if a young boy is stealing a loaf of bread, don’t you think he doesn’t have enough money to eat? You should be thankful that all he stole was bread.” They crossed their arms ovet their chest, and Oliver watched from the shadows in confusion.

The clerk grumbled to himself. “Next time, I’ll clock you.” He threatened, before stalking off angrily. The boy ran over to the figure. “Thank you, Y/N,” he breathed, “You rock!” You giggled, ruffling his hair. “Hey, we street rats have to stick together,” you smiled, “Now go on before he changes his mind.” The boy obeyed, but not before tearing off a piece of the bread and giving it to you.

You bit into the food, your hungry stomach growling. “You can come out now,” you chuckled, seeing the two figures walk out of the shadows, “I know you’re there.”

Oliver walked into the light. Your heart stopped. Oh god no.

Oliver didn’t seem to recognize you, but he recognized the name. “Your name’s Y/N?” He asked. Slowly, you nodded. You walked into the light, as well, gulping nervously. No, you couldn’t talk to him. Malcolm would kill him-

But wait, Oliver was dead?

Oliver might not have recognized you at first, but he was stuck on that damn island for five years, and you were twelve the last time he saw you. But, he could never forget you, and slowly, he came to the realization of who you were.

Thunder boomed from the sky, and it began to rain. Not heavily, but enough to create puddles and dampen someone’s clothes and hair. The two of you stared at each other. No one moved, not until you made a bolt for the streets. Your feet splashed against the wet concrete as Oliver ran after you.

“Y/N, wait!” He called, reaching for you. Oliver sped up his legs, practice as the vigilante starting to bubble up. He lunged at you, finally able to grab you from the back of your shirt. He tugged you back and into him, Oliver wrapping his arms around you to keep you still.

“No! No, let me go,” you yelled, struggling against Oliver in the rain, “You don’t understand! Malcolm-”

“Y/N, Malcolm’s dead!” Oliver shouted. His voice grew softer, “He’s gone. He can’t hurt us anymore.”

You took heavy breaths. Slowly, you turned in Oliver’s arms, the rain dripping down your face. You looked at your big brother, taking in his appearance. He looked so different.

“You…you were dead,” you sniffled, “Everyone said you and Dad were dead.” Oliver wiped the water and tears from your face. “Everyone said you were dead.” He replied lightly, trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were alive. “Dad-” you went to say, but Oliver stopped you. “Dad didn’t make it,” he told you, “But I did. Mom’s in jail and Thea’s probably at home now.”

The two of you stood in the rain, staring at each other. Then, like the thunder rolling, your emotions crashed down on you. You broke into sobs, and Oliver began to cry, too. He walked forward and wrapped his arms around you. You held him tightly, crying into his chest. You stood in the rain, not caring how soaked you were. Oliver was alive, and your family waa safe.

Oliver took you home. He knew Dig and Felicity and Roy and Thea were there because of the cars. Thea probably called them because he had run off. When she heard the door open, Thea went to snap at Oliver for running away again, but froze when she saw you. Oliver explained what happened, and the three of you fell into sobs again.

You embraced each other, the three Queen siblings finally home, and finally safe.


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Imagine Malcolm Merlyn trying to get to know you. 

**Sequel to “Imagine being the youngest child of the Queen family only to find out that Malcolm Merlyn is your real father.” [x]**

You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, staring at the tablecloth in front of you so you could avoid looking at the man sitting across from you. His hands were folded neatly in front of him, his suit immaculate.

“You can relax, [f/n].”

You almost flinched at the sound of his voice. He may have been your biological father but that didn’t imply that you had any real connection with him. On the contrary, you were frightened of him. You didn’t want to be here. You wanted to go home to your real family, with Oliver and Thea.

“You know, I remember the first time I saw you,” Malcolm Merlyn continued, undeterred by your silence. You risked a glance up at him and saw that his expression had softened, turning almost nostalgic, “You were out for a walk with your housekeeper. I peeked into the bassinet and there you were. I knew that you were mine. It was undeniable.”

You pressed your lips together, not knowing what to say.

“I hope you can come to like me, [f/n],” his voice was soft as he reached out to take hold of your hand. You pulled away, averting your gaze and folding your hands in your lap so he couldn’t grab them. His expression flickered with what looked like it could have been hurt, “I would like to get to know you better. I want to be a part of your life. Please just give me a chance to be a good father to you.”

You swallowed thickly, your ears burning with humiliation, “I’d like to go home now, please.”

He pressed his lips together, releasing a heavy sigh, “As you wish, [f/n]. Perhaps we can try this another time.”

Gif Credit: Merlyn

plumtusion  asked:

Do you know of any black saints? I'm trying to learn more about different saints in general, but I wanted to start there.

Awesome! Some I can name off the top of my head are St. Augustine (yes, one of the most influential theologians was Black) and his mother St. Monica, Felicity and Perpetua (two of my sapphic faves!) Catherine of Alexandria, Martin de Porres (his mother was either African or Native American), St. Moses the Black (yes that’s his title lmao), St. Benedict the Moor (also his official title), and Sister Thea Bowman (a super awesome African American figure). 

And here is a website with a whole list of Black/African Saints. And here’s a webpage with just fifteen if you want to start out with a less overwhelming number. This site (which I also link below) has a good number of the most well-known early African Saints. 

I think people often don’t realize that certain Saints are Black because they are, alas, whitewashed in most images of them (Augustine being a prime example of that). So when you click the links above, you’ll probably take one look at the images included on webpages and go “lol this guy’s not black!” It can be frustrating, but luckily non-whitewashed art is out there – it’s usually very ancient or very contemporary. I’ll include some here.

Felicity and Perpetua, source, source

Augustine and Monica, sourcesource, source

Moses the Black (source), Thea Bowman (source), Martin de Porres (source)

Africa played a key role in early Christianity, and it’s a shame that history tends to be ignored by Christians today. As this webpage attests, three of the earliest popes were African! as were many martyrs. One place you can go to look into that is the website of the Center for Early African Christianity

If anyone has more resources, please share! 

Unlocked: Arrow 6x03 Review (Next of Kin)

Thank you so much for your patience friends! Last Thursday was a technology hot mess for me.  My cable cut out and didn’t tape the episode. Thanks for nothing Tablo. We are officially back at Comcast. Sigh. I understand the words “Resistance is futile” on a whole other level now.

Originally posted by theblogyoumustread

Then I took my child to Wizarding World in Florida to get our Harry Potter on. (We are both Hufflepuffs. We rule.) 

Oddly it’s difficult to get writing done when in an amusement park (and exhausted at night) so I truly thank you for your understanding BECAUSE OH MY GOD WHAT AN EPISODE. OLICITY IS OFFICIALLY BACK TOGETHER. WE HAVE CONTACT!!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

And Diggle…. oh fracking mother of Zeus… JOHN THOMAS DIGGLE 

Let’s dig in…

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Something Just Like This

Felicity Smoak has had a mini crush on a man she’s never met for years and one day he walks into her office for help.

This is my entry for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-Thon prompt - Malfunction.  

No beta so all mistakes are mine. I hope you like! Also available on AO3.


Felicity was terminally single. At least that’s what her mother told her. Donna Smoak meant well but comments like that - well, they didn’t help.


Honestly, Felicity was pretty happy with her single life and it would take a pretty amazing guy to make her change that. It would take someone like Oliver Queen, the local celebrity due to his stint on The Bachelor.  


She laughed herself she had harboured a secret crush on the infamous Oliver Queen since the first time she saw him. He, on the other hand, didn’t know she existed so progress in that situation was never going to happen.

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#flirting (an Olicity fic)

Here’s a ridiculous little celebrity/social media au one shot. I wrote it this summer and totally forgot about it but I found it today so… here it is! There may be a few more parts to this, idk. We’ll see!

###

She was standing in the kitchen, just finishing off her (disgusting) protein shake, when an alert lit the face of her phone.

@OliverQueen tweeted a photo.

She chugged the last sip—ugh!—and swiped the screen. A second later a photo of Oliver was staring back at her and she’d be lying if she said her breathe didn’t catch a little at the sight.

Tight t-shirt, crazy blue eyes, just the right amount of scruff… He was gorgeous, always, but especially standing on the deck of a yacht, leaning over the railing just enough to show off his muscular shoulders. The tweet said, “Fav pic from the @MensHealth shoot.” It already had over a thousand likes.

Felicity liked the tweet and threw her glass in the sink, maybe a little rougher than she’d meant to considering the way it rattled around.

It wasn’t that she was jealous. She was happy for Oliver; he worked hard to maintain his physique and anyone who worked that hard for anything deserved praise and a spread in Men’s Health was good for him, but ugh! Over a thousand likes in less than three minutes? Really? How was it possible?

Her phone vibrated and she looked down to see another alert.

@OliverQueen: @FelicitySmoak you should have come with. Missed you on the boat ;)

Felicity sighed and tapped out a return message.

@FelicitySmoak: @OliverQueen motion sickness, photogs and getting hit on 24/7? Yeah what was I thinking passing on that?

As was usual whenever she got into a conversation with Oliver on social media, her phone started blowing up. Likes and follows and retweets. Everyone wanted a piece of Oliver Queen, even if it was just in the form of stalking him on Twitter.

Even she had her claws in him in a way. It wasn’t like he talked to her on Twitter because he missed her sparkling personality. No, she was the Ronald Miller to his Cindy Mancini, using his popularity and social media prowess to Can’t Buy Me Love her way into the hearts of America. Or, at least, into the hearts of his millions of followers.

Her phone vibrated again, but this time it was a text.

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