i need to learn manners

Harry Potter and His Complete Lack of Shower Etiquette.

Harry tossed his uniform over the back of the sofa as he flicked open the top few buttons of his shirt and entered the kitchen to get himself a long drink of water. He was hungry; Draco had already ordered Chinese. The take-out containers sat on the table, neatly arranged in the centre under a Stasis, with two plates, forks and the paper-wrapped chopsticks laid out ready. 

But it was a sudden craving for something cold and sweet that hit him and after pointlessly digging around in the freezer for a few seconds, he gave up and went looking for his boyfriend. He could hear the shower running now, as he walked further into the flat and the muffled humming that seemed strangely magnified as it echoed off the wet tiles. 

The bathroom door was ajar and Harry elbowed his way in. Draco was a long, blurred form in the tub behind the curtain, his hands in his hair as he lathered. He hummed the chorus of the song for a fifth time - he was pants at memorising the rest of the lyrics.

Snorting softly, Harry curled his fingers around a fistful of the damp curtain and pushed it aside with a careless, “Hey, are we out of–”

But his question was drowned out at Draco’s vague humming morphed into a severely high-pitched shriek as he turned around to face Harry, both hands flying down between his legs to cover his bits. Sweet smelling suds of shampoo ran down the sides of his face and his hair was sticking up in wet bunches. The shower was still running, pouring onto his shoulder and back, the steam rising around him like a cloud. His eyes were huge and round with shock and his mouth was open in a scream that went on and on. 

He was frankly completely adorable.

“Stop screaming.” Harry rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Draco, it’s just me. Are we out of ice cream? I saw a tub in there last week–”

“GET OUT!” Draco shrieked, lifting one hand to violently point a soapy finger towards the door, spattering Harry with streaks of apple scented water. “YOU ILL-MANNERED WRETCH! GET OUT!”

“Oh my god, I fucked you in here only this morning!” Harry reminded him incredulously. “I’ve seen you naked literally every single fucking day for over three yea–”

“HARRY, I WILL STAB YOU IN THE FUCKING EYE!” Draco bellowed, eyes bulging manically, hands curled into fists. “I HATE YOU! GET OUT! GET OUT!–”

“Fine!” Harry was already backing away. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath as he exited the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind himself so that the continued screams of have you no sense of propriety whatsoever and how is it that I’ve ended up with a shamelessly indecent, completely uncouth piece of shit like you faded away to muffled screaming coupled with the steady gush of the shower.

Harry laughed for a whole ten minutes.


Respect (Gaston Imagine)

Request: Gaston is being Gaston until reader comes around and puts him in his place and Gaston gains respect for reader.- @savaemaz

It was your first day living with you sister Belle and she decided to show you around for the day. “Come on!” Belle laughed as she grabbed your arm and drug you out the door and down the steps.

“I’m coming! Gosh no need to rush” You let out a small laugh as your ran out of the gate with Belle. “Sorry, I’m just really glad that you’re back. How was Paris?” Belle let go of your arm and rubbed her neck sheepishly.

“It was wonderful, it’s very beautiful there. You should come with me next time” You offer with a big smile at the memory of Paris. “Oh I wish I could” Belle smiled at you before dragging you inside a building.

Keep reading


A/N: I didn’t like the other story I did for dear anon so here’s another take of it. Idk, maybe I’m just not good at jealous Lucifer, but oh god do I try. 

He seethes when he sees you with another man, the blood in his vessel practically boils. He knows the expression on your face, he knows each and every twitch of your muscles and how it defines you, how you feel without you needing to say it. The discontent look on your face as you take a sip of your whiskey, looking away from the man who was supposed to replace him. To replace him with such a filthy ape makes his fists clench, his jaw tighten, the ape could barely be classified as that with how poorly he treated you. One arm slung around your shoulders abruptly and the forced smile on your face, the tense shoulders that spoke volumes that he couldn’t see.

Not like Lucifer could.

He knew how you felt, why you left him and your reasons for doing so. You were prone to bouts of restlessness, fidgeting in your own skin like you couldn’t stand the body God had given you. You wandered across the Earth and for the first time since God, Lucifer had followed. It was foreign to him, but you were an entire enigma, you knew who he was - his goal, his hatred and you still smiled at him. He wondered if this was what Gabriel meant, but the ache of his brothers passing reminds him not to think of it.

“We were never a species meant to last long,” He hears your voice during the first few times he interacted with you. There was that urge to fly on broken wings, that fidgeting feeling just being around you, restlessness that kept his mind preoccupied for days. “There is good, but we will destroy ourselves before we save ourselves.”

He never tied you down much like he wanted to, keep you by his side until he figured out every single tick that made you, you. But that would take away from your nature that he desired to watch, you flowed like the rivers around the fires in his hell, avoiding his flames and washing over him. It was breathtaking as it was frustrating, he wanted to understand you but the more he knew the less he understood.

He wanted to wipe the planet of your kind, and you had left him afraid that you would keep him from his desires.

“Why,” He remembers asking the night you were leaving, the bitter tears and smile on your face that pained him.

“Even monsters deserve the chance to be loved.”

You had pressed a kiss to his cheek and left that night, left him standing in the old ruined cathedral where he had made a temporary home out of. A mockery, one that you had laughed and danced between the broken pews singing praises and prayers.

But you had been happy then, the smile on your face hadn’t been forced. He didn’t need to force it there, you had stood up and danced willingly, shaking all the tense muscles out to invisible music that he watched. Wondering just how strange and beautiful you could be, how it was even possible - how had his father made something as enigmatic and untouchable as you were to him?

He hadn’t wanted to burn you, to take away that light that burned so brightly inside of you. Even though every instinct he had told him to lock you away and keep you to himself, he knew that you wouldn’t be you if he did that. Not what fascinated him and confused him at the same time, so he let you walk and once you were far enough away he burned the cathedral down in his anger.

And then he followed you.

Flowers bloomed in your steps and each one he took behind you burned them all away. You traveled far, further than he thought you would have and you didn’t look back even when your shoulders hunched and you mouth covered your painful cries.

He had planned to wait until you returned to him willingly but he couldn’t stand to watch it. The perverse touches against you, the tight lipped smiles that graced your lips. The way you carefully shrugged his arm off your shoulders and pressed yourself further into the counter, making yourself less available to the man who couldn’t take a hint.

You knew spells, you could castrate the man with a snap of your fingers but you chose not to, simply gritting your teeth and sipping down the whiskey that burned your throat, if the way your eyes watered was any indication. Lucifer hadn’t taken you for a whiskey drinker, or one to drink at all and it only showed how much he still didn’t know you and how much he wanted to.

His restraint and patience all but shattered when he saw the hand slip onto your thigh, and before you could wave your hand and whisper the spell Lucifer had moved. One step forward and his wings carried him behind you, one hand gently on the small of your back while the other held the man’s in a vice grip. The heat and strength from his hand causing the man to give a startled yelp and cry, a beg to be let go but Lucifer was only smiling, tight lipped like you had been previously.

“I think you need to learn some manners, can’t you see her body language says no?”

He wanted to fight, and Lucifer was going to let him. The rage was pouring in his veins and the eerie red of his eyes began to bleed through his vessel, a haunting and demonic look fit to scare anyone straight.

“Sh’yours?” It comes out a slur, the wasted breath of the man making Lucifer wrinkle his nose in disgust, releasing the wrist he held and leaving behind a burn mark of it. A reminder, Lucifer tells himself as he waves away the putrid breath.

“Yes,” It comes out in a tone that bodes no argument. It’s not a demand, it’s a statement and he could feel the flutter of pride in his chest.

You were his.

“Shoulda kept her on a leesh,” He speaks again, slamming his drink down and throwing you a disgusted look. “Woman can’t keep her hands to herself.”

It was a lie, he knew it was one. He had watched and though you had agreed for some unfathomable reason to this date- this arrangement you hadn’t once done as he was lying about.

“Sinners go to hell you know,” His hand moves and press to the man’s forehead, and soon he’s screaming and crying for help. Patrons of the establishment scream and run, the walls shake and tremble and glass breaks and the body hits the ground, burnt and indistinguishable from what it once was.

There are hunters, fearful but willing as they take out their weapons and he’s still so angry. The hand on your thigh had him seeing red in more ways than one, and while you took another sip of your whiskey he released the frustration on the rest of those willing to fight him.

It was unfair, but it felt good to indulge in that senseless violence. His fist hitting their flesh and he could understand why your species liked to fight, to feel the bones breaking beneath his knuckles, the skin tearing and when he was done playing with them it was only a split second before they joined the other guy. Burned bodies crumpled onto the floor and burnt flesh that made your nose wrinkle in disgust as you downed the rest of your drink.

You’re quiet and Lucifer watches you carefully, there’s a small part of him that awaits some form of anger from you. No one, not even god liked the anger he possessed and it’s why he was cast out in the first place - the anger at humankind. But you set the glass down carefully avoiding the shards of broken glass from broken lights and mirrors, gently wiping a spot clean for you to rest your elbows onto the bar.

“Why are you here?” Your voice is quiet when you finally turn to look at him, and he can see the way your eyes burn with unshed tears and he takes a step closer but you hold your hand up, not wanting him to get closer. For once he doesn’t listen, moving close enough to lean down and press his forehead against the back of your neck while his hands snake around your waist gently.

“Lucifer,” You repeat yourself quietly and there’s a spark of possession in his veins, of demanding and taking but he shoves it all down. You would not be the same if he simply took, and you were the only thing God created that he can say he truly cared for.

Truly loved.

“I can’t let you go,” It’s barely a whisper, and there’s the underlying tone of won’t let you go unspoken on his lips as he closes his eyes. His forehead resting carefully against your neck, there’s only so much time before the place becomes bustling with activity at the destruction.

You move to stand and he reluctantly releases you, taking a step back and watching you carefully. Prepared to follow, but you’re staring at him and he can read you and opens his hand for you to take, and when you do the both of you are gone in a split second.

The soft sound of crickets and toads fill up the air when he gently sets you down onto the grass, and he could swear that flowers bloomed beneath your feet when you took off your shoes and held them in your hands. Swinging your arm with them as you began to walk across the meadow, directionless. He follows.

“I love you,” He freezes in his step, watching as you slow down until you’re standing still and looking up at the midnight sky. The cool summer breeze plays with the stray strands of your hair, the moon reflecting off of you like an ethereal and untouchable and unattainable being.

If he was the sun, hot, burning and unforgiving then you were the moon, beautiful and breathtaking while you guided people through the dark.

“But that’s why I left,” You sound broken and he wants to move closer but his feet are rooted to the spot, waiting to hear what you have to say needing to know. “What am I to the mighty fallen angel? The same human who he was cast down for hating, you have better things to do then entertain fantasies that will never come true, not really.”

You were human, a human witch. A hated between both humans and the supernatural, the delicate in-between. How could he love something that wasn’t either, but a mixture of things he hated combined? You breathe out a bitter laugh, your free hand moving up to press your palm against your eyes and wiping at them.

“Abaddon had come for a visit,” You turn to face him and his face sours at the name. What had abaddon wanted? “She is fit to be with you, not me. Knows exactly how to restore you to your throne and has every intention of doing so, dedication, ruthlessness.” You could be all those things if you had tried, but you would never stand toe to toe with abaddon, not in this life or the next.

“I was made clear of where I stood, and.. I understand it too.”

Where you stood? Abaddon would be lucky if she managed to get away alive once he found her.

“[Name],” He finally moves, unhinges his feet from the ground where they had remained bolted when you had turned to him with that heartbreaking look on your face. Bitter defeat but understanding and acceptance, and that frustrated him - he didn’t want you to give up so easily. But considering who had spoken to you, he didn’t doubt abaddon hadn’t given you a chance and probably wouldn’t have. He stands before you, his hands moving to your face to caress your cheeks carefully and there’s a small smile on his face.

There’s beauty and then there’s you. “Your place is beside me, and only me.”

The tears drip down and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you gently as he attempts to soothe you. Your hesitant hands wrapping around him and it feels strangely right and fitting in a way he had never felt before.

“Let’s go home,” He murmurs against your hair, gently swaying the two of you back and forth but pulls back slightly to look at your face when you laugh.

“You burnt it down.”

“And I’ll burn down every other establishment that you leave, and anyone who comes too close, and-”

“And where’s home?”

“Anywhere you want.”

That raises an eyebrow from you.


“I’m King,” He says his voice dark and you can see the red in his eyes. “And I’ll build a castle for the queen.”

The Commander’s Order

Nesta has made a reputation in the Illyrian camp. Her cutting words and fists have brought forth both respect and loathing from the soldiers. But she is about to meet the one opponent who is to be her match.

Lines of Love and War : Chapter 2

A gust of wind beating against the small tent roused Nesta from slumber. She grit her chattering teeth and tugged the threadbare blanket tighter around her shoulders. Outside the wind continued its onslaught against her small tent. Nesta wouldn’t be surprised if a strong draft carried herself and meager tent over the cliff.

“Why the hell would anyone live on this forsaken mountain,” Nesta grumbled wishing sleep would return.

A male laughed in the distance, but it sounded more like a braying donkey. Nesta groaned and rolled her eyes at the sound.

Right. Illyrians were the insane fools who decided to train, eat and sleep on these wretched cold mountains. And now she was stuck to join their ranks in the war against Hybern.

Slowly Nesta sat up from her bed pallet and moved the blanket from her body. She swiftly changed clothes in the enclosed space. A difficult task, but she knew it was better than seeking other shelter in case any of the males decided to follow her for a peek. The Illyrian females had warned her how the majority of the males treated them. Females were seen as weak, compliant breeding tools and nothing more.

Nesta noticed the leering gazes herself when she would walk through camp. At first she assumed it was because she was a new war recruit, but their stares were hungry. And Nesta did not take lightly to being considered a piece of meat that others wanted to taste.

She made a reputation for herself the first week at camp. Nesta imagined she must have lashed out toward half of the camp’s males with her viper tongue. The insults and fast remarks flew from her mouth just as often as Illyrians flied across the sky with their wings. Which was almost every moment.

And if words didn’t work then her fists did. The look of surprise on all the hardened Illyrian warriors’ faces was priceless when Nesta, a girl from the human side of the wall, broke the nose of a soldier who had tried to grope her.

That was the day she had gained a fragment of respect from a few Illyrians since they could see she would retaliate any unwanted attention. But she also received more taunts from those who couldn’t control themselves.

Each new dawn meant a new challenge. Most of the males still didn’t respect her. She doubted that they ever would considering the centuries of tradition they grew up on made them believe that females were to be used at their convenience. Still that didn’t mean Nesta was giving up.

She stepped out of her tent and began stretching her tight muscles. A yawn broke free from her lips and her empty stomach growled. At least Nesta could easily dismiss the hunger considering that most of her life consisted of meager meals that never completely sated her appetite.

A dark shadow drifted beside her tent.

“Do you plan on playing nice today or are you going to get into another squabble?” The Suriel asked. Its form cloaked in magic causing it to be unseen by any passerby.

“When these beasts learn some damn manners then perhaps I won’t need to give them a rude awakening with my fists.”

The Suriel chuckled. Or at least it sounded like it, but the rasp made it unclear to Nesta.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from the eldest Acheron,” the Suriel said. “You are adept at verbal sparring and have potential to hone your physical skills, but today you will be tested.”

“Isn’t everyday a test of sorts?” Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Each day my patience is tested with these Illyrians. And why is it that there are no humans here? How come I appear to be the only one summoned to this army?”

“Because it takes a specific soul to withstand the conditions this mountain presents. A number of Illyrians who are born and raised here do not always survive to adulthood,” the Suriel replied. “And humans have a far greater difficulty as it is with their weaker bodies.”

“Then why was I sent here?” Nesta asked in confusion.

The Suriel smiled. Its yellowed teeth revealed. “That is a question for another time.”

Nesta released a frustrated breath. A drum beat in the distance signaled that all soldiers were to report at the center of camp.

Nesta followed the drumbeat along with the other soldiers who were making their way out of their tents. She didn’t glance back knowing full well that the Suriel had already vanished.

When she arrived at the camp’s center the majority of soldiers were already lingering around. Females talked amongst each other while the males did the same. An obvious segregation between the two had been made.

Nesta made her way to a few females she was familiar with, but an Illyrian male blocked her path. He was almost her height if only a bit taller. He was flanked by two other Illyrian warriors. They each wore one siphon of varying colors on the back of their hands. A sign that these warriors were powerful enough that the stones were needed to regulate their energy.

“And what are you doing here?” Devlon asked. His tone clearly demeaning.

Nesta arched a brow. Leave it to Devlon to already find her. He was one of those males that sought to bring her down constantly, because she refused to cower at his words.

“Unless I’m mistaken the drums mean that all soldiers are to report,” Nesta replied evenly.

“Yes. Soldiers,” Devlon looked Nesta up and down. “You are no soldier. Why don’t you go clean laundry as a good female should?”

“Why? Were you so frightened to see me approaching that you soiled your clothes?” Nesta sniffed the air. “That must be why your stench is worse than usual.”

Fury filled Devlon’s eyes and his hand reached for one of his many weapons.

“I will not stand for such insults by a weakling,” Devlon snarled. “Perhaps a lesson is required before the Commander arrives.”

Commander? Nesta hadn’t seen the Commander of the Illyrian armies since her arrival. Then again she had heard that his time was occupied by strategizing with the High Lord of the Night Court back in the city of Velaris.

“Teach her where her place is!” A male Illyrian from the crowd shouted.

Murmurs rose up and suddenly Nesta found herself pitted against Devlon.

She barely had time to react before he charged her. His wings flared out and Nesta ducked to avoid being clipped by the appendages.

There was no way she could stand a full-blown fight again Devlon. He had years of combat training compared to Nesta’s meager month. Even with her demi-fae powers it would be a challenge unless she completely unleashed what she kept caged inside. But that would mean destruction she was not ready to face. Her powers frightened her more than any adversary that approached her in this camp.

She dodged and moved to avoid most of the hits Devlon threw at her. Nesta didn’t look back to see that his punches usually struck someone in the crowd resulting in a chain reaction that brought forth an all out brawl among the Illyrians nearby.

Nesta now focussed on not being struck by the stary swings of the other males. Her brief moment of distraction resulted in Devlon smacking her across the face. A furious rage washed over Nesta as her cheek throbbed in pain.

Instinctively her powers seeped in her veins. Responding to a call Nesta did not voluntarily ask for.

Lightening crackled at her fingertips. Devlon realized too late the ability Nesta harbored secretly. Her hand caught his wrist before throwing him in a blinding flash that sent him falling – no flying – backwards into a group of unsuspecting Illyrians who also fell to the ground in a stunned heap.

“SOLDIERS!” A deep voice boomed across the camp.

Immediately the fighting came to a halt. All faces turned to where two Illyrian males stood. The duo radiated power unlike anything Nesta had encountered among other Illyrians. One that resembled shadows and mystery while the other blazed with energy that crackled like fire.

A slight tug pulled her attention to one of them in particular. It was as if she felt drawn to him. An absurd idea considering she had no idea who he was.

And yet I feel as if I’ve known him for so long.

He wore standard leathers meant for training. But that was the only normality he possessed. His dark skin rippled from muscles in his arms as he crossed them to survey the troops. His assertive stance displayed a sense of authority that made Nesta pause.

But those eyes. Even strands of his long black hair could not hide the burning spirit of his hazel irises. Those same eyes that were currently staring directly into her own.

Nesta blinked.

And the male smirked at her.

He strode through the warriors who parted without a word. They watched in silence and curiosity.

“You’re the one causing trouble in my camp?” the male asked. A faint smile played on his lips. His wings tucked in tight, yet his broad shoulders took up enough space that the others gave him a wide berth as he approached Nesta.

She didn’t respond. Her eyes assessed the situation she now found herself in. That was when she noticed the seven red siphons.

If one siphon was what most Illyrians needed to handle their killing power…

For the first time since Nesta arrived at this camp she felt uneasy. But she stood firm as the male stopped in front of her. His gaze ran up and down her body. Sizing her up.

Her fists clenched and the male’s hazel eyes took note of her reaction. Another smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s your name?” He asked in a low voice usually reserved for the bedroom.

Nesta narrowed her eyes. Apparently his manners were lacking if he wouldn’t introduce himself first. She was about to tell him as such, but a voice broke out over the silenced gathering.

“Bitch,” Devlon growled and strode toward her.

“I hardly think that’s her name,” the other male drawled. He shrugged at Nesta as if Devlon could not be helped in his rude behavior. His siphons glinted like rubies in the morning light with the motion.

“Suits her well enough,” Devlon sneered. “This is why females are better off away from the training grounds Commander.”

Nesta tried to reign in her surprise as she gave the man beside her a second glance. So this was the Commander of Illyrian armies.

“Every able body will be trained Devlon,” the Commander said. “And if you dare go against my orders again by having them only doing chores we are going to have a discussion in the training pit where my fists will do the talking.”

Devlon remained quiet even as his hands tightened with hatred simmering in his eyes.

“Now that we have that settled,” the Commander dismissed Devlon without another word before returning his gaze to Nesta. “Care to tell me your name?”

For a few seconds Nesta remained silent, before finally giving him what he asked.

“Nesta,” she said. “And you’re name is…?”

The Commander leaned closer to Nesta in a smooth motion that caused her to lean back a fraction of an inch in surprise. And then he smirked with cockiness that won women over and brought them to his bed. “Whatever your heart desires sweetheart.”

“How about egotistical bastard?” Nesta snapped without a second thought.

The Commander looked slightly stunned her words. He was not expecting that much of a vehement refusal to his flirtation. He recovered quickly with eyes gleaming in a challenge before straightening his stature and addressing his troops.

Nesta could tell he was up to something with the way his lips quivered in restraint from laughing.

“Soldiers! Thanks to Nesta,” The Commander grinned at Nesta with humor in his eyes. “You will all be running through our most grueling drills today. And tomorrow. And the next.”

A symphony of groans rose up from the crowd along with a few glares pointed at Nesta.

“Is that understood?” The Commander’s voice carried over the troops.

“Yes Commander!” The soldiers said before heading off to their drills.

Nesta grudgingly began following the others. Intent on getting the day over with since she was sure to be getting glares and spiteful remarks from the Illyrians. A large hand clasped her arm halting her stride. The fingers easily wrapped around her narrow wrist. She turned to see the Commander with his head cocked slightly to the side. As if trying to figure Nesta out.

“What?” Nesta bit out.

That one word shook him from his trance.

“You used lightening power earlier,” he began. “Have you been testing your skills with it?”

“I’ve never had to use it before,” Nesta admitted. “And I don’t ever want to again.”

At this the Commander looked confused. “But you need to harness that power.”

“So I can use it in the war?” Nesta chuckled darkly. “I’d rather win with my own strength then rely on something I despise.”

“It’s not a matter of the war, but it’s your life that’s at stake,” the Commander explained. “If you don’t learn how to release that magic then you’re only going to harm yourself and those around you. Which means I am effectively putting you on a special routine so we can better evaluate your abilities.”

“No,” Nesta ripped her wrist out of his loose grip. “I’m not like your kind. I don’t need fae magic.” Nesta spat out those last words.

“My kind?” He stepped forward. He tempered down his fiery outrage at the insulting tone of her words. How could this human – no this demi-fae – think that they were so different. Did she not understand the gift and potential she harnessed? Could she not see that he was trying to help her?

“All you fae-” Nesta began, but was effectively cut off by the Commander.

“You yourself have fae blood,” he said and sniffed the air as if to prove his senses were correct. “And I suggest you get over whatever prejudice or fear you have, because right now we have a war to deal with and there is no meaning in fighting with yourself over this delusional matter of ignoring your powers at the risk of your life and my troops.”

“You bastard,” Nesta bit out with fists shaking in anger. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He stepped closer into Nesta’s personal space. He towered over her with his height as his wings flared out a bit in a display of dominance. “I can easily change that.” He quirked a suggestive brow.

Disgust laced Nesta’s features. “As if I would ever be with a brute like you.”

“Better get used to it sweetheart,” the Commander smiled. “Because for the next couple of months we are going to train together. You and me personally to gain a better understanding of your powers.”

Nesta opened her mouth to disagree, but knew in the end that if the Commander ordered it then she was bound to listen or else face penalty. She could rage against it, but she had no clue just how strict this man was with his soldiers.

Would he send her to get lashings like they did with the disobedient children? Or would it be far worse for disobeying an order from the Commander?

She shook with resentment toward these beasts called Illyrians. And now she had to deal with the most pompous one of them all.

When Nesta didn’t argue the Commander took that as a sign that she would be learning how to harness her power.

“Oh and by the way,” the Commander leaned back with a grin lighting his face. “Call me Cassian.”

Previous Chapter

Masterlist of Chapters
ethan, my baby (i talk loads now)


“Cal!” okay so he’s having a nightmare maybe???? about Cal??? ABOUT GUILT MAYBE??? ALSO if they show his chest and he doesn’t have his scar on it (i mean let’s brush past them forgetting once) i will not be a happy bunny

“Ethan’s grieving-” - charlie to alicia. Damn right he is and damn right if this trailer is anything to go by that’s all we’ll have for the next three months. ethan being v v hurt… so no different from any fanfics then…

they’re holding hands? so everything seems to be going okay between them for the time being but ethan still looks on the verge of tears WOW good on you george rainsford

the rest is in the ‘keep reading’ section because i just realised how annoying this will be to scroll past i am so sorry

Keep reading

“Good. Now stop crying… idiot”

“You’re too damn cute”

Request: Anon: Prompt: “You’re too damn cute”

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Word Count: 348

Warnings: None

“You’re too damn cute” Newt mutters.

I laugh.

“I’m cute? You’re the one that looks like a shucking five-year-old!”

Newt places his hand on his chest, faking outrage. “Such rudeness, Y/N! I think you need to learn some bloody manners!”. He places his hand on my thigh, and tingles go through my spine.

I roll my eyes. Newt and I have been dating for two months. He is my best friend in the entire Glade - I couldn’t survive this place without him.

“Oh yeah? Well…shuck, I should have thought of a good comeback before I started talking” I reply. Newt laughs and shakes his head.

He starts to speak but closes his mouth.

“What?” Iask. He shakes his head and I catch a hint of his flushed cheeks under his floppy blonde hair.

“It doesn’t matter. Now isn’t a good time to tell you” he sighs.

I turn so that I am completey facing him, confused. What is he talking about? Does he want to break up with me? I tell myself to stay calm, that I’m just jumping to conclusions, but it doesn’t stop my urge to throw up or my shaking hands.

“Tell me what?” I whisper.

Newt sighs. “Y/N, I…bloody hell, this wasn’t how I planned to tell you this”.

I drop my head, letting my hair fall over my face to hide mthe tears welling in my eyes. What did I do wrong?

“I love you”

I jolt up, shocked. What did he sy?

“Wait…what?” I stammer.

“Y/N, I bloody love you! I’ve known it since the first time you said my name. You’re per-”

I don’t let him finish. Instead, I jump forward and kiss him. He almost falls backwards but catches himself and kisses me back. My body tingles all over, even my toes. We break apart after a minute or two, but it feels like hours.

“I love you, too!” I laugh, trying not to cry with happiness. I smile until my face hurts - there are so many more moments like this I’ve yet to experience, and I’m ready.

Make Me (Eric x Reader)

Character: Eric Coulter

Fandom: Divergent

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader, Candor!Reader

Title: Make Me

Requested by @purityimagines:
Divergent Eric imagine where he dumps you for another girl and you work for Candor and when he gets the truth serum on him he confesses how much he misses you and how he messed up and he says he loves you that he would do anything?

Dauntless was still baffling for me. I didn’t understand why they were so noisy, reckless and spry. Why they were crazy enough to jump off trains and risk their lives like that with impossible stunts.

I often found myself thinking that I would never fit in that faction, that I would never have anything to do with it. And then I met Eric.

He was a pure Dauntless, filled with tattoos and piercings that characterized the members of that faction that always wore black. It was almost like we were opposites.

Members of my faction, Candor, wore white. We had our similarities with the other factions.

We could be calm, serene and peaceful like Amity. We appreciated order and truth and harmony like Erudite. We could even be kind, even if not as much as Abnegation.

But not with Dauntless. I couldn’t think of one single thing we had in common with them. Yet I was so crazy for Eric, maybe precisely because he was completely different to what I had known all my life.

And I was actually visiting him because, despite it all, I had missed him so much.

As soon as I spotted him, I grinned to myself and walked over to him.

“Hi” I greeted him, my grin widening.

When his eyes fell on me, his lips curved up as well while he eyed me up and down intensely.

“Hey there” In a second he had wrapped his strong arms around me and smirked as he pushed me into him.

I probably blushed by his fierceness because there were many Dauntless around us and I was quite self-conscious about it.

Before I could say anything or push him away, he was kissing me. He had already smashed his lips against me in lust.

Giggling, I firmly placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away.

“Stop it…” I averted my gaze from him even though I knew how amused and smug he was about me getting so shy.

“Make me” Eric just told me, staring right into my eyes.

I dared to hold his glare, so I let my eyes land on his.

After a brief pause in which we just stared into our eyes, Eric just smirked.

He kissed me passionately again and I gladly gave in.


I was calmly working, trying to keep my mind busy so I could keep the pain away. Because every time I let my mind wander off, I ended up thinking about him. And it hurt.

We were perfectly okay, our relationship being like it usually was. Nothing had changed between us, and if it did I didn’t notice at all.

Yet one day he came telling me we were over, that he didn’t want to be with me anymore and that he didn’t love me. I asked if there was another girl, and he didn’t reply, he just smirked a little. Which was a definite yes.

I never thought I would love someone like him, and I should never have. That way I would still be okay and my heart wouldn’t be broken.

Yet I couldn’t really hate him, even if I wanted to. I was oddly attracted to him in a way that I couldn’t express.

Eric was still present even if he wasn’t actually next to me. I perfectly remember what his presence made me feel, the feeling of his hands and his arms connecting with my skin, the fierce and attractive look in his eyes as he looked down to me and smirked.

I could almost hear his raspy and low voice talking to me in that smug way of his.

“You look fine today” A voice said behind me, making me squeak loudly.

I turned around and saw him standing there, the usual smirk plastered on his lips as he eyed me.

Angrily, I turned around and tried to recover from the scare.

“You Dauntless need to learn manners” I said dryly to try and hide how startled I was by his sudden arrival.

Eric let out an amused guffaw and walked closer to me.

“Not gonna happen any time soon” Soon enough, he was right behind me and he placed a hand on my hip smoothly.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him rudely as I swatted his hand away from me.

“Get you back, hopefully” He replied coolly, staring at me in that way of his.

That way that usually made me feel so special and even crazier about him, that made me want to smack my lips on his. But not that time.

It made me think of how many girls he had looked like that. He just went out with one, got tired of her and dropped her just to be with a different one.

“Not gonna happen any time soon” I made fun of him, repeating his own words.

“What’s your problem, babe?”

“I’ll tell you what my problem is: you!”

I made a pause to lick my lips and get prepared to spill it all out while I placed the things I was working with back on their place. Then I turned around and threw him a harsh glance.

“You’re a womanizer, you disgust me” I was glad to be in Candor, because I could be brutally honest with him. “If you loved me you wouldn’t be with other women”

“No, Y/N, you’re wrong”

“Am I?”

“It’s true that I was with many women, but never at the same time” For the first time since I knew him, I didn’t find any hints of smugness or a flirtatious behavior. “I’ve gone out with one girl after another after another”

“Oh, that makes me feel so special” I wasn’t used to use sarcasm, but I was so angry that I couldn’t help it. 

I was about to walk away when he held me by the arm, and he was so strong that I didn’t even try to struggle. I just resigned myself, but I refused to look him in the eyes.

“I realized that no matter how many girls I went out with, they weren’t you”

“It’s so easy to say that” I angrily tried to snatch my arm away from his grip, but he reinforced it.

“If you don’t believe me, use the serum” Eric told me, his voice calm as though he was not fazed by the idea at all.

Realizing it was the only way to know he wasn’t lying, I didn’t think twice.

I picked up a dosage of the truth serum and stared at Eric for a moment before I did anything. I was going to use the serum. That way he would tell the truth no matter what.

He didn’t flinch as I sank the needle on his thick neck, and he didn’t even bat an eye. The both of us stared at each other for a moment, lingering on the silence that had settled in the room.

I decided to keep quiet and wait for him to say something, so I just held his glare patiently.

“I messed up, okay?” Eric finally frowned as he piped up. “You were always the one, but I didn’t realize until it was too late”

Again, he tried to place his hands on my hips, but I pushed him away and took a step back as I still observed him. I wanted him to keep on talking, and I refused to let him touch me. At least, not yet.

Pursing my lips in rage and helplessness, I resolved to just keep looking at him.

Eric just made a pause to reciprocate the glare before he carried on speaking.

“As soon as you left, I began missing you and it made me realize how much I love you and how much I fucked up” It was the first time his voice sounded so serious and factual around me, and it baffled me.

I looked into his eyes to try and read them even if I knew that the serum had to be working and what he was saying had to be the truth. He wasn’t a Divergent and couldn’t resist it. I would know if he were.

“You’re right, you did” Was all I said even if his words were starting to change my mind.

I wanted to forgive him so bad, to have what we had back. To have him back.

But I didn’t want to let him hurt me like that again, I didn’t want to show him such weakness. I wanted to be proud and strong for once, I didn’t want to feel so vulnerable.

“And I’ll do anything” As he spoke, he slowly and cautiously walked closer to me.

He tried to wrap his arms around my figure and that time I let him. I was prepared to intervene if he dared to tempt fate by kissing me or something along those lines, but he didn’t.

“You’d still have to show you mean it” I reluctantly said, hating and loving that I was forgiving him after all even if I wouldn’t let everything be like it used to be so easily. “And make it up for me”

As he fiercely brought me closer to him so our fronts rested against each other, he smirked.

“Make me” Eric said it in a whisper, but his voice still sounded powerful and teasing.

I held his chin and challengingly stared into his eyes, with a daring and savage glare.

“I will” I just told him in the same tone he used.

“You’re more Dauntless than you know” Eric’s his smirk widened. “I like it”

I didn’t comment on that sentence and made a pause to look at him before I did anything else.

“Now go” I pushed him away and turned around without looking at him again. “I have work to do”

Since he had been telling the truth, I was keen of forgiving him that mistake. But he was stupid if he really thought everything was okay just like that. I was not going to let him do something like that ever again. And he knew.

While I pretended like I was focused on my work again, I intently listened without looking over my shoulder to him.

For a few seconds he didn’t move, but then I heard his footsteps growing distant. And I smirked.

i dunno this is probably just me but i hate those like “dont cross oceans for someone who wont cross a puddle for you” type of things bc it just teaches ppl to look at someones love for them through a magnifying glass and teaches ppl that if someone doesnt love them loudly every moment of every day that their significant other must not love them enough / that no one will ever care for them enough

and idk i just. like i get what ppl are trying to say - that there are people in relationships who just dont give and dont care enough to give - but that  mindset just….bleeds into healthy relationships sometimes. 

love isnt about someone always answering ur texts or about someone staying up every night until 3am w/ you , its about someone doing what they can when they can and giving the love that they can give

and idk i just feel like people need to start learning their partners mannerisms and how they love rather than just immediately setting a huge standard like “if i text u at 9am and u dont text back until 4pm ur not giving me enough attention” Or Something like…..just learn how someone loves and understand that ppl give love differently is all

Director Krennic x Reader Imagine I

Originally posted by youcantspelldomhnallwithoutdom

“Imagine Director Krennic bonds with you after listening to how you curse at Tarkin.”
>Requested by Anon.<

You had to leave the meeting you had today earlier because you couldn‘t stand Tarkin‘s accusations and his nonsense any longer. You disliked him just as much as he disliked you but you were unlike Tarkin not in the position to let him know, but you were sure that he knew about your feelings and your opinion on him anyways. You sometimes wondered why he didn‘t fire you yet but Tarkin had probably a sadistic streak and liked it to humiliate and embarrass you in front of your co-workers. You were already used to his bullying but today he crossed a line and you didn‘t even care what consequences you had to face for leaving the meeting without his permission.

The only thing you could to after leaving the meeting was to hide in a storage room, hiding from Tarkin while swearing at him. It started really soft and just a few bad words left your lips but the longer you thought about the way Tarkin treat you since you got the promotion the angrier you got and the louder you cursed while you started to demolish the storage room in your rage.
„How does he dare !? This old, crusty, bantha smelling grandpa ! He can‘t do anything right, he‘s so lame and just as disgusting as the canteen food ! He deserves a good old choke session by Lord Vader and-“
The storage door opened and your rant got interrupted by Director Krennic. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, Director Krennic was next to Tarkin the last person you wanted to catch you while swearing like a sailor. He pulled you out of the storage room by your wrists and held you uncomfortable close to him in place.
„Officer, what‘s your name ?“
You hesitated to answer Krennic in fear of the consequences.
„My name is Miss Y/L/N.“
„Y/L/N ? Well, Tarkin told me about you, he said that you make his life so hard by just existing. I heard you swear more than once under your breath while walking past you on his Finalizer but I was never sure if you really did or if I misunderstood you. I suggested Tarkin more than once to take you under my wing to teach you some manners but he wanted to keep you.“
His words angered you.
„Director Krennic, Sir, with all due respect but he makes my life hard and he even bullies me ! If someone needs to learn some manners then it‘s Grand Moff ‘I don‘t get shit done without my employees’ Tarkin !“
Krennic had to snort. Your anger and the way you told him your displease was too funny.
„Indeed, he doesn‘t get anything done without his small, unimportant officers.“
„Well, thanks Director Krennic.“
Krennic cleared his throat.
„Excuse me, you‘re an exception miss Y/L/N. I usually gather all people who can‘t stand Tarkin around me since I‘m… let‘s just say since I‘m not his biggest friend in the Empire. I‘ll talk to him later and tell him that you work for me now, he won‘t have a word in it.“
„That‘s… Director Krennic, I‘m speechless, thank you.“
Krennic nodded at you and finally let go of your wrists.
„I listened to your rant from the beginning, you mentioned something about consequences ? Of what kind of consequences are you scared about ?“
„I left the last meeting without his permission and yelled at him and the other Officers after getting humiliated by him again.“
Krennic pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
„Good god, he could kill you for this kind of misbehavior, are you aware of that ? It would be the best if you stay near me until we find a new task for you, you can imagine yourself what Tarkin will do to you if he gets to lay his hands of you. I would tell him to leave you alone but my word means just as much to him as his words mean to me - nothing.“

after a long day of chasing leads with cas, dean cracked open a cold one and practically chugged it.
a cool light breeze blew across dean’s face, making him turn around. 

jesus cas. we talked about you just popping in like that. 

I’m gonna turn off my asks for a while but this is at the antis that love to stalk my blog all because I don’t like or draw their ship

Y'all need some help. I could care less what you ship but when you start harassing me and stalking me over not agreeing with your otp is pretty sad. Get a life and maybe learn some manners. I really don’t need to school you guys on being a decent person cause that should already be common but since you idolise your pairing so much it seems to be okay to be a bag of dicks.

All I want is to draw on here and shit post I really don’t got time for someone to tell me I’m pathetic for not liking what they like so au revoir mother fucker

Originally posted by ivanv

Liner Notes: Chapter 4

Fic Update!

Summary:  CS rockstar/actress AU. Killian Jones, lead singer of the band Crimson Flag, has been burned in the past by love and turned his heartbreak into a hit album, Hook. But with his new single, I Still Do, he’s ready to proclaim to the world that he still believes in love. All he needs is an actress to appear in the song’s music video and he has just the one in mind - TV star Emma Swan.

(Jenna’s ongoing birthday present, hope you’re still enjoying this captainswanismyendgame)

Rating: Still T 

Read this chapter on ff.net

                                                     Chapter Four   

Filming started bright and early the morning after the welcome dinner, at an eighteenth century fort that had been restored and turned into a museum. The main scene they were shooting was a confrontation between Killian’s pirate captain and August’s naval officer character, that would end with crossed swords and an escape aided by the pirate captain’s crew as played by Rob and Will.

While the crew set up the equipment the band and August all got into costume. The wardrobe trailer was so tiny that they had to go one at a time, getting dressed and then moving over to the equally small hair and makeup trailer where Anna and Elsa were set up. August went through the mini assembly line first, Killian was last. His elaborate costume took a while to wrangle into place and by the time he finally had everything on both his bandmates were done in the other trailer and had gone on ahead to set.

The sisters welcomed him in and sat him down in a barber’s chair, quickly getting to work. Elsa clipped his hair back from his face while Anna poked around in a giant makeup case, coming up with a small bottle of skin coloured liquid and a sponge.

“Do you want me to cover up the scar?” she asked, squinting at his cheek. A souvenir from a bar fight during the worst of his post-Milah days, it was frequently airbrushed out of photos or covered with makeup when they performed or appeared on TV. He decided in that moment to stop hiding it, the mark was a reminder of his lowest point but he was past that now and it no longer gave him a twinge whenever he looked at it in the mirror.

Keep reading

Why Ginger was Robbed

It’s nice to know that you can now win Drag Race and be the Queen of all Drag Queens and:

1. Not be funny
2.Not be able to act or perform
3. Not be able to dance
4. Not even understand what camp is
5. Be a complete brat and genuinely bitchy/nasty
6. Not pad or even vaguely do actual drag
7. Be a pretty boy in a dress instead of a drop dead diva.
8. Have zero personality
9. Be a mean girl- like an actual mean girl
10. Have no respect for those who can help mold you into something better (hating on Michelle)

Great choice Ru! way to deteriorate your empire!

I mean it’s not like Ginger was a “quadrupile threat” or anything.

Violet can sew. Big fucking deal… so can I. Oh and she is annorexically skinny. Great message to send.

WHAT I USED TO LEARN FROM DRAG RACE: If you can’t love yourself how the hell you gonna love somebody else.

WHAT I NOW LEARN FROM DRAG RACE: You don’t need talent, heart, manners or decorum, just be unrealistically skinny and look good.

Yes, because THAT’S what the gay community needed reinforced.

Way to fucking sell out Ru.

If you are happy Violet won….that’s so nice for you….but you are part of the problem not the solution. Being wrong and getting away with it must be thrilling.

But I’m saying it from “ a place of truth” …..so it’s ok……. (eye roll)