requested by @oneprettygryffindor <3
Can you do a imagine of harry x reader. Where reader and harry both love each other but don’t want to admit and one day when their friends made confront them both(harry and reader) to confess their feeling for each other when their both smell each other amortentia, harry lies that he likes ginny and to make harry jealous the Reader say yes to malfoy’s proposal and harry finally admit his feelings in front of everyone. Thank you.


The scent of Amortentia is much too strong to ignore. It is also too hard to ignore of what a striking resemblance it carries to that of your beloveds cologne. Harry Potter had been your crush ever since you first laid your eyes on him really, and between the period of when he had introduced himself to you with his boyish charm to sitting next to you in potions six years later a lot of things have changed. At the very start the two of you didn’t click all that well – you preferred the company of older boys and girls. That quickly changed, though. Involuntarily being involved in one of his many adventures you grew to fancy Mr. Potter even more, and if you had any sense in that head of yours at all you would’ve realized many years earlier that he feels exactly the same way.

So when confronted – well, confronted isn’t exactly the right word, more like ‘teased’ – about who he likes Harry spilled Ginny’s name it felt like the whole world had flipped itself upside down and had no intention of returning to normal. Seconds pass like minutes, and perhaps the Potions classroom is simply too quiet to pin-point time correctly but you feel yourself grow tired with each new beat your heart makes. Thankfully, break is still fresh and not many had decided to follow you ad Harry into the depths of the castle. Your fingertips are unusually cold, almost as if you had had your hand stuck into a batch of ice and left it there for more than a few hours. Slowly, you turn to look at him with this sort of speechless, hurt look on your face that he obviously avoids. No one believes him, frankly out of the ten people that stare at the both of you in interest only you truly take his words to heart.

Fire. The cold is splashed by hot waves of jealousy that boil inside the pit of your stomach and make you seriously consider agreeing to date Malfoy when he had not so subtly called you his ‘girlfriend’. Just to spite Harry, just to make him feel even an ounce of explicit pain you feel at this very moment. It strikes you and your legs move on their own; you stand and grab your things intending to leave and not return unless you’re holding hands with his nemesis. Harry is silent, the rest are too as they watch you pick your things and spin on your heel to go. Ron shakes his head.

“Mate,” He murmurs, “seriously?”

A harsh slap of the door opening and shutting rattles the various liquids in the cabinets. The cool and somewhat wet corridor carries an unpleasant smell of mold. For a short while only your footsteps echo. But then the door opens and shuts again and from the rush, the uneven steps, even from the sound of hard breath you recognize it to be the boy that just broke your heart. He catches up to you quick. Along with him a slew of curious classmates poke their heads out the doorway to see what is going to happen. You don’t want to turn around, but you can’t force yourself to move forward until you have this sorted. You snap to him and cross your arms over your chest, lynching him with your stare. Harry stops a few feet back and catches his breath with a few nervous blinks.

“I lied.”

You stare, “What?”

“I said,” He alliterates, “that I lied. About liking Ginny.”


He shrugs, “I don’t know…I got nervous.”

You pretend to understand his reasoning and give a light nod with a roll of your eyes, “Yeah, right. Whatever.” You turn to leave again, but—

“It’s you. (Name). The one I like.”

requests are open!

merinfandomland  asked:

Hey it's me again! do you still take prompts? If so,,,, malec going to see Hamilton and then discussing lams? Or smth along those lines idk exactly

First of all, it was very rude of you to introduce me to this pain. *harrumphs*
There is one line, one line in this fic that I’m really proud of though :3 
I don’t really have a lot to say because I’m asleep on my feet rn, but a few quick points
1) nobody betae’d this, I didn’t even reread it so … pls be gentle
2) every single opinion here expressed about Hamilton, Burr, Laurens etc. comes strictly from convenience to the plot, I know nothing about them

Jokes aside, thank you so much for the prompt :3 I hope you like this!
Also, yes, I just made Lin-Manuel Miranda a warlock. 

Alec, of course, has no idea what Hamilton is. He knows who Hamilton is, but he just blinks at Magnus when he presents him with two tickets for Hamilton, fourth row, central seats. Excellent tickets is what Magnus is trying to say here. Not that it had been difficult getting them, Lin is a good friend, has been for a few centuries now, but still. He was expecting a bit more enthusiasm.

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“Canoodling” (Kibbs Week Day 3)

The prompt for Kibbs Week day three was “fake dating/married/undercover AU” and I know the day is almost over, but I still had to post it.

@kibbsfanfictionsource and @a-mi-zivi idk but I felt like you’d enjoy this??

Essentially, Gibbs and Kate are undercover, Kate actually loves Gibbs and Gibbs actually loves Kate but they are both awkward beans who don’t understand feelings. Story is under the cut. 

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requested by @mayasmedberg <3
  Hi could you write Machine Gun Kelly when he and the reader are married and have a kid and you can write what fits in after that ❤️ thanx ❤️


Getting married? Easy. Conceiving a child? Level 1 boss battle, could do it with your eyes closed (in a way, you actually did). Now, naming said child is a whole different ordeal, one you and Colson find immensely difficult for some reason. Lying in the hospital bed, with some wires hooked up at places just in case you might feel unwell after a second, you rest on a stack of comfy pillows that smell like washing detergent, yet are pleasant to the skin. Your gaze is directed downwards onto the small bundle in your hands that wiggles its little fingers and puffs those small red cheeks without opening his eyes. Your child… The one you and Colson made from cake mix. It feels surreal, though happy without a doubt, with shadows of impeccable worry and maternal instinct.

Colson is close, you see him from the corner of your eye gazing at your child with as much love and affection, awe even, as he had gazed at you at your wedding day. With a brilliant grin you catch his gaze, and he returns it trice fold.

“So,” You start quietly as to not wake up the baby, “any suggestions on names?” Before he can speak up you add, “And please, no ‘Apple’ or ‘Saint’. Seriously.”

requests are open!


Written by: @wildlyglittering

Prompt 3: historical Everlark – Peeta is a reformed rake and a jealous Katniss

Rating: T (to start with)

Notes: This first bit is quite short but I realised I didn’t have time to write all that I wanted and so I have decided to turn this into a WIP. Oops. Probably a bad idea but I do have an outline of where this is going so that’s something!

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To Savor While You Taste

Hey peeps! Here’s my first submission for @thebookjumper‘s amazing Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-Thon! This is Prompt Number 3, Taste. Sorry it’s a day late, but @tdgal1 encouraged me to flesh this out, so a very big thanks and hug to her!

PS. I didn’t know who else to tag so I just stole your tag list @thebookjumper :D


Felicity returns from serving in the Army for 2 years with an honorable discharge. And she’s going to surprise her brooding husband who misses her like crazy.

Word Count: 2513

AO3 Link

The sudden turbulence awoke her with a jolt, pulling her out of the dream she’s had night after night the past week. She looks around the cold, crowded plane with tired eyes and looks down. The familiar camouflage she wears invades her sight, and she smiles to herself.

Stretching her arms above her head and rubbing her tired eyes, Felicity looks out the window, studying the clouds with an intent. She tries to squint as one passes by, trying to make a shape out of it.

It’s been a long time since she’s had quiet like this. When was the last time she could just consider the sky and just… stare?

She looks down at her right hand then, looking at the platinum band, with a simple diamond encased in the wiring designed to mimic a vine.

Excitement, along with a bone deep need bubbles in her veins at the thought of her husband.    

Memories flood her, and she’s lost to the ocean blue she hasn’t had the chance to look at in 2 years.

“Wow. How in the hell is that a dolphin Felicity?” Oliver wondered with a furrow to his eyebrows.

It was a bright day, the cool air breezing through them and the grass they laid on. The sunlight was a little too strong, so they stood next to the old tree off to the side, looking for some shade. Oliver was laying down on the crisp, green grass with Felicity curled up to his side. She traced meaningless patterns on his olive, T-shirt clad chest with one hand, and pointed up at the clouds suspended in the sky with the other.

“You can’t see it?” she asked in disbelief while turning her head up at him.

“Look!” she said. Oliver turned his head up to see the cloud she was pointing at. He studied the cloud for a moment, shifting his eyes to the jagged edges, and hole in the white that Felicity probably thought was the eyes.

He grinned widely, and looked back at her, only to find her staring back at the so-called dolphin, about to speak.

“There’s the fin!” she exclaimed.

“Although, I don’t know which one. What are they called anyways? The dorsal fin, and then the one on the back…are those things even fins? I’m pretty sure they help them swim…oh whatever. And there’s an eye! And the blowhole!” she elaborated.

Her fingers point to the hole Oliver looked at not just a second ago, and then to another all the way at the back of the fluff of white.

She turns back to Oliver, realizing he hasn’t said anything. When Felicity turns her head up, she finds him watching her intently.

His eyes rove over her features, a small smile on his lips. He starts at the top, taking in the small crinkle of her eyebrows, and a strand of her silky hair on the side of her face, and the glasses in between her hair and head.  

He moves his hand to tuck the hair behind her ear, and looks into her eyes.

Amazement fills his veins at the sight in front of him. She’s his.

At the same time, he feels fear weigh down on him, at the feeling of being incomplete.

His face weakens at the silent admission, and holds on to her a little tighter.

Because he won’t be able to do it later.

So, Oliver buries his face in her hair, smelling the strawberry and vanilla scent that’s he’s associated with her for so long.  

And, Felicity, she knows she has to give him this moment. To collect his thoughts.

They lay there in silence for a few moments, before Oliver picks his face up as he feels a warm hand slide up his jaw, and the familiar gesture of thumbing his stubbly cheek.

Their eyes meet, and she sees the anguish in his eyes, and the pain she’s causing. She’s about to say something when Oliver speaks up.

“Stop, Felicity. I know what you’re thinking.” he chided with a whisper. He starts move his hand reassuringly down her side, and to her hip, before starting again.

“It’s not your fault. I know why you have to do this. It’s what you’ve wanted for a long time. You’re going out there. Saving other people’s lives, protecting them. How could you blame yourself for doing what you want? I just…”

He looks down at the fingers dancing across his chest, and sees the shiny platinum on her ring finger. He picks the hand up and starts to kiss her fingers, one by one.

He shivers, and then continues with a broken voice.

“I just love you. So much. I need you in my life. You’re my other half. And just the thought of something happening to you out there, and I won’t know for sure…” he takes a small breath, unable to finish that sentence, as he feels his tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Hey,” she moves up and presses his forehead to hers. She grabs his face with both her hands and starts to wipe his tears with her thumbs.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me Oliver. I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do for so long. You’re right about that. But I wouldn’t be doing if I didn’t know if I was coming back to you or not. And I will. I love you so much. And I’m going to fight to come back to you.” She resolves.

With a noise between a whimper and a sigh, he presses his lips to hers. He immediately slides his warm tongue across her lips, and she gladly grants invitation. Their tongues meld and dance around each other, and he holds on to her tight, scared she’ll disappear.

He savors her taste. Something sweet, with a hint of ground coffee, enveloping his senses. He etches it onto his lips. Memorizes it further. More than he already has.

Because after today, he won’t feel the sensation of being utterly whole.

For two years.

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“God, am I glad this job is over. I can’t wait to get the blonde dye out of my hair.”

“Really, Nat? I think it makes you look sexy. Kind of like-”

“If you say Marilyn Monroe, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“What I was going to say is you look like an actress from Hollywood’s golden age.”

“Really? Such as?”

“Grace Kelly, Ginger Rogers, Ingrid Bergman, you know. The really classy ones.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweet talker?”

The redhead smirked in spite of herself. Of course, Steve was right in his assessment of her appearance - although, she suspected that he was also really turned on by her temporary new look. Not that she could blame him for that.

They had been assigned to a SHIELD mission in Zurich, posing as a rich billionaire and his wife on the lookout to purchase diamonds. The diamonds they were looking for in particular were black market goods which were being used as a weapons fund for a terrorist cell in Switzerland.

The mission had gone down without a hitch and Steve and Nat had the op wrapped up neatly in a pretty package - as Natasha liked to call it - for SHIELD, only to learn that their talents were needed on another job asap in Vienna, Austria.

Natasha ran her fingers through her flouncy curls and sighed as she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. “I miss my red hair.”

“Well, I miss it, too, but change isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes, it makes you appreciate what you had more so than when you first had it.” Steve rubbed his beard thoughtfully.

“Oh, yeah? Are you saying that you didn’t appreciate my amazing scarlet hair until we started this mission?”

A hearty chuckle came from Steve’s lips and he turned to Natasha with a grin on his face. “No way. I’ve always had a strong appreciation for your red hair. Believe me, I look forward to seeing it again.”

“I’m glad we agree on that.” Natasha ran her fingers over the growth on Steve’s chin and wrinkled her nose. “And I’ll be as equally happy to see you clean shaven sans tattoos. You look so…scruffy.”

Steve chuckled and slid his arm around his girlfriend and pulled her body close to his. He’d just taken a shower and Natasha squealed lightly because he was getting her shirt damp. “Well, don’t worry, babe. I’m shaving the the beard off for our next mission. I miss being fresh faced.”

Natasha smiled and linked her arms around Steve’s neck. “Steve,” she pouted in a mockingly whiny voice, “you’ve gotten me all wet. I’m going to have to dry this outfit, now.”

“That’s fine with me, seeing as how I was planning on taking it off anyway.” The blond smirked and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the bed.

“Come on, you just got cleaned up and we have to be in Vienna tomorrow afternoon at the latest!” Natasha furrowed her brow at him and tried to sound stern, but the truth was, it had been a full thirty-six hours, twenty-two minutes and fourteen seconds -not that she was counting - since they’d last made love.

Needless to say, she was in the mood.

He just plopped her on the bed and tossed the towel from his waist before covering her body with his. Gently, he placed his palm on her stomach and slid it underneath her black top, massaging the soft, turgid bosom that lie in wait. “We’re always on time for these undercover ops. I think it’s only fair that we take a little personal time before jetting off on another mission, don’t you?”

Steve kissed Natasha softly, his hand going behind her neck to rub the special sensitive spot that he knew was one of her e zones.

She moaned in response and flipped their positions, adjusting herself so that she was sitting on top of him. She tickled her fingers up and down his chest, damn near purring in excitement. “I can’t argue with that. There’s just something kinky about the two of us together like this, not looking as ourselves.”

“I think so, too. Maybe we should invest in roleplay.”

“Noted for future reference, but less talking, more loving.”

“Yes, ma'am.”


I love these two.❤️🇺🇸🕷

anonymous asked:

prompt: alicia almost leaves bob after jacks overdose

[prompted by @eskildit, who now knows better than to send anons when she has great prompt idea <3  tw: overdose, homophobia]

The night before her son turns 13, Alicia Zimmermann pulls her husband aside and says, “Promise me you’ll let him choose for himself. If he wants to play hockey, if he wants to dance, if he wants to be a waiter, we’ll be okay with it.

Bob promises her, with all the devotion she’s come to expect, but not minutes later reminds her the NHL waits for no man, and Jack will need to start preparing for the future as soon as possible.

It was a sign of things to come, and she didn’t heed the warnings.

Jack is 14 when they diagnose him with an anxiety disorder Alicia’s never heard of. The specialist recommends reducing the level of stress in his life, maybe cutting back on unnecessary extracurriculars. He knows the family. He knows Bob. He’s being gentle.

They don’t change anything because hockey is life. Jack’s happy on the ice, unhappy off, so they take the medication instead. Just another step to Jack’s already offensively complicated routine.

“See?” Bob smiles when Jack is chosen to play for Rimouski Oceanic. “He’s going to be fine. Not like you and I didn’t need a little extra help in the beginning.”

He’s talking about Alicia’s drinking nearly twenty years prior. His own cocaine problem in the early 80s. But Jack’s not twenty and whole-hog into a career, he’s a teenager. 

She wants to protest on principle, but this isn’t her life. Bob knows this world better than she ever will, and if Jack still wants to play professionally (and he does), she needs to defer to her husband.

If this is what Jack wants, they’ll make it work.

Jack’s energetic, he’s happy, he has a friend he won’t be seen without, and Alicia watches how close Kent’s fingers are to Jack’s when they walk together. It’s not what she expected, but she’s happy he has someone. 

She’s not the only one that notices how close the boys are, and Bob turns to her in bed one night, brow furrowed, and says, “Kent Parson.”


“Are he and Jack…?”

She doesn’t say anything, just lifts a brow and gives him a considering look. 

Bob’s lips go white with how hard he’s pressing them together. “That’s not going to be easy, for either of them.”

“If it makes him happy,” she argues, and Bob hums in agreement. That should have been the end of it. But something happens, and she’s not there to stop it. 

The night before Jack overdoses and his career goes up in flames, the Zimmermann household is in ruins for an entirely different reason.

“Jesus Christ, Robert, I’m supposed to be a goddamn activist, if this gets out —”

“I don’t have a problem with gay people —”

“Don’t lie to me!” Alicia slams her hand on the table, nearly shaking with anger. “You told him to hide.”

“I told him to be discreet. Do you think I’m doing this for me? I’m getting calls day and night from teams wanting to know if the rumors are true. I was trying to be proactive! He can’t be–”

“What? Gay? That’s what you’re worried about? Maybe we can engrave that on the back of my GLAAD award: ‘For excellence in telling your child to hide their sexuality until they retire’. So everyone can know how fucking supportive we are. Does he think I feel the same way you do?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember,”

My God, I can’t even look at you right now. You’re going to fix this. I don’t know how, but you’re going to make this right.”

Of course, then they find Jack unresponsive on the floor with a half empty bottle of medication and they don’t immediately know it was an accident. 

For about twelve hours, while Jack’s condition is still unstable, Alicia very seriously considers killing her husband. 

They’re red-eyed and exhausted in the waiting room when the doctor on call says they need to pray for a miracle. She stares at a stain on the carpet for a long moment, hands clasped, but she’s not praying. Bob makes some kind of sound, a hitching breath that isn’t quite crying, and she turns her head to watch him fidget. 

“Robert, look at me,” she says softly, deceptively kind, and when she has his attention, and with more hatred than she ever thought she could possibly feel, she says, “You did this. And I swear to you, if my son dies tonight, I’ll leave.”

She doesn’t wait for him to answer, doesn’t even wait to see the expression on his face. She collects her purse and stands, stretching her legs and heads to the vending machines.

She buys a Dr. Pepper and a bag of Tropical Skittles.

Jack lives. 

Alicia stays.

But she moves her GLAAD award to the trophy room. Settles it right beside Bob’s Hall of Fame plaque. 

Because she will never let him forget.