i wrote for you

Seeking Solace - Drake x MC

[A little note: I wasn’t planning on starting this tonight - but then the words started coming out of my head and now here we are. Thank you for the request sis @storiesbehindyoureyes. Hope you enjoy it! Feel free to send me a kissing prompts here for anyone that’s interested!]

[Summary: A drunk MC (Robyn) demands Drake accompanies her on one of her routinely escapes from the manor for the night. However, he manages to convince her that staying inside with him was more than worth going outside.]

8. Breathtaking Kiss - It’s the kiss that you can’t do anything for a few seconds after, you keep your eyes closed with mouth agape of you try to let your mind process what happened.


Drake was beginning to think that Robyn threatened his sanity. Not entirely, but rather her ideas threatened his sanity. They were half-thoughts and half-delusions; plans that shouldn’t be considered plans to begin with. However, whenever possible they agreed to them anyway. As soon as they found themselves feigning interest after hours of balls, press meetings and other courtly things that was demanded of them - they jumped at the opportunity to leave. 

It had to be her fault. 

She was the only correlation between abandoning the manor and leaving at strange hours of the night. She kept them joined together - like glue. He watched it happen, begrudgingly at first until he realized all that time he used to resent nobles were no more as some of the same people he considered one of them, had turned into people he could consider acquaintances. Maybe even friends.

Now he waited in secret; pacing back and forth inside the safety of his room. He kept his eyes trained above the balcony and watched the fathomless dark sky until they caught sight of stars. They twinkled in the distance - as if they too were enjoying his pitiful anxiety as he waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

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you get my love, baby [fic]

a/n: This is a klance fic that I’ve been working pretty hard on over the past few weeks. I want to give a HUGE shout out to several friends who helped me through this fic. I also want to dedicate it to @dreamdreaded @maireep and @chutzpahhooplah for all the help they gave me. I really appreciate and love y’all 

Let me know what y’all think about this fic! Here’s the link for AO3.

It took a brief conversation, a smirk, and a hand on theirs before Keith had them pressed up against the scratchy brick of a dark alley. The only thing he could think about while he fucked them was Lance’s name, Lance’s voice, Lance’s body, Lance’s smile, Lance, Lance, Lance.

The first thing that Keith thought after he came was that he was a real fuck up, that Lance was probably going to hate him, that there was no way that Lance, beautiful, sweet, amazing Lance, would want to be with him in this or any universe.

It was that thought that had Keith diving back in for another rough kiss, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to banish all thoughts of Lance.


affectionately/alternatively titled “the one where keith has game”


It started like it always did.

The alarms had gone off in the early afternoon, and they had suited up and raced to their lions to protect a planet from another Galra invasion. The mission was hard, and Keith came out of it tired and scratched up because of the battle on the planet’s surface as they fought to free the planet inhabitants from the Galra’s control.

They all got back to the castle at around the same time. Keith stumbled out of Red, and Lance was there the next second, catching his elbow and asking him if he was alright. He had nodded, but Lance was the one to volunteer to take him to the med bay and take care of him.

Once they were in the infirmary, with Keith seated on the edge of a cot, Lance helped him out of his armor and rolled his thermal suit down to his hips. He carefully tended to the bruises on his chest and the cuts on his face and head before taking his hands and cleaning up his busted knuckles.

Keith prayed that Lance couldn’t hear his heartbeat.

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afterlife - sophieispro - Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Bodhi Rook
Characters: Cassian Andor, Bodhi Rook, Jyn Erso
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Being Human (UK) Fusion, Ghosts, not force ghosts, Vampires, Werewolves, Supernatural Elements, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, it’s very existentialist, My English teacher would be proud

“I don’t even like tea,” Jyn groaned, cradling the mug in her hands, steam rising and evaporating into the air, “I used to. Then I moved in with a ghost who never stops making tea, and now I can’t stand it.”

  • Ravenclaw: Being late is my aesthetic.
  • Slytherin: But you're not late for anything right now.
  • Ravenclaw: Not yet.
  • Slytherin: Okay, whatever, it's your aesthetic, I guess.

“Do you believe in love?” asks someone.

“Not really. But, don’t get me wrong. I do believe in love, I do believe in soulmates, happily ever after, someone you believe as the ‘one’. I have seen other people find that, that’s why I know it’s real out there. I just think that love is not meant for me.”

—  Excerpt from the book I’ll never write #69 

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴋɪᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ — 19940912
A man who is Nurturing, Appreciative, Mature, Joyous, Observant, Openminded & Noble deserves only the best. Happy birthday our leader ♡ Thank you for being the catalyst and the beginning of the world’s best team. Thank you for being a person who thinks deeply, who reminds us of the world’s beauty amongst its hideousness. Thank you for showing us what’s worth and for guiding us in the direction of your heart. Thank you for being a sturdy leader, an unwavering soul and an emotional companion who inspires the people around him to do better. We respect you a lot and have a million ‘thank yous’ to say that cannot be put into words :’) Happy birthday our leader. We love you ♡.

The Wake of War


So.” Stiles drops back against the side of the Jeep, elbows braced and spine sinking slow against the dusty blue metal. Derek’s hovering a few feet away, at the edge of the lot, not quite ready to vanish into the night but not prepared to join with the rest of the group, either.

He needs their voices, maybe, to block out the ones in his head.

“Looks like I saved your ass again,” Stiles is saying, flashing him a crooked grin. He looks warm and bright like the rest of them, a glow of victory dancing around him that can’t quite seep into Derek’s bones. “What’s the count, now? ‘Cause I think I’m getting pretty close to earning a victory ride in that sweet new Camaro.”

Derek’s lips twitch, a snort slipping out.

“I seem to recall saving you last time.”

“Hey, we’ve been through this. At best, that was a tie.” Stiles looks so smug Derek can’t bring himself to argue, and maybe that’s the reason Stiles’ grin falls. His eyes go soft, flitting over Derek’s frame.

“I’m glad you’re ok, man. …I mean, as nice as it would have been to have my very own, hot guy lawn ornament––”

“Why did I look at her?”

He doesn’t mean to say it; flinches at his own words. His hands are too-tight fists he stretches straight with an effort, and when he looks at Stiles again the bright expression’s gone, replaced by tension and an edge of a grimace he’s trying to fight down.

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positive things i associate with the Hogwarts houses


  • the friend that always has gum, but when they take a piece they automatically give you a piece so you don’t have to ask
  • the friend that mocks the sound of the THX logo in older movies
  • the friend that always wants to be in charge of the aux
  • the friend that drives like a maniac but has never gotten a ticket
  • that feeling when you tell a joke and everyone laughs and smiles back at you
  • that feeling when you change something really small but it’s such a big deal but you don’t tell anyone because they won’t understand so you just have a small victory for yourself 
  • that feeling when you try a new food and you’re extremely skeptical but it turns out to be delicious
  • the feeling in your stomach at the first drop in a rollercoaster and you’re screaming with a big smile


  • the friend that laughs at your joke when no one hears it or it’s not very funny just so you don’t get embarrassed 
  • apologizing to the cashier for the rude person that checked out before you
  • roots for the villains in Disney movies but cries whenever someone dies in the movie
  • the friend that always has a perfect response when you text the group chat pictures of the conversation you’re having with someone you’re flirting with
  • the friend that texts good morning at 1 pm
  • that feeling when you and all of your friends are in on a secret and someone brings up the subject and you all know that you know the answer but you keep it to yourself 
  • the friend that talks and comments all through the commercials and trailers for new movies at the movie theater but will ‘literally end you’ if you talk during the movie
  • the feeling when you first think you might like someone. that nervous excited feeling
  • the friend that knows a bunch of really random useless facts


  • the friend that brings comfort food during sad times and listens to you talk, or not talk if you just need someone
  • the friend that gives great advice but still does stupid shit constantly
  • the friend that gives excellent relationship advice even though they’ve been in few relationships
  • the friend that lets you copy their homework the morning before class because you forgot about the assignment
  • the friend that you can text at all hours of the night and you always get a response
  • the friend that always finds new books and music before they’re overdone
  • that feeling when you’re happy that the characters are happy but sad because the book has ended
  • that feeling when you lay down at the end of the day
  • when you really stress out over something like a text you sent or a test you submitted and the response you get is better than the situation you created in your head


  • a casual wave or nice smile when you run into someone you kinda know but not well enough to strike up a conversation
  • burning your mouth on coffee but drinking it anyway
  • the friend that takes a lot of naps
  • that feeling when a teacher or authority figure asks the group a question that you know the answer to but aren’t certain enough to volunteer it out so you keep it to yourself but it turns out you were right
  • when you catch something that someone tosses something to you and you brush it off like you knew that you would catch it even though on the inside you’re celebrating
  • the friend that sings what they’re doing
  • meme master
  • the friend that asks really random questions when theres a lull in the conversation

Runaway Land

Rating: Mature
: Complete
Word count: 103k
Chapters: 16/16

Louis is sure he’s stumbled upon a secret, underground nightclub, though that is far from the truth. He’s also pretty sure he’s stumbled upon Apollo, which… isn’t very far from the truth, actually.

Modern Greek mythology AU.

The NHL Player Who Answers The Door On Halloween Himself And Gives Out Full Size Chocolate Bars If You Could Only Find His House is peak Canadian urban legend childlore. 

Pirate Diplomacy

A quick thing that I’m dedicating to @shoedonym, who had the idea of Killian threatening people while looking, well, like this.

It’s almost night time in Storybrooke. The hour between light and dark, where distances grow fuzzy and the eyes play tricks.

The thieving hour, it ought to be called. At least, in the opinion of a young criminal mastermind by the name of Jack Bradagan, who is probably given to more poetic flights of fancy than most thieves.

Storybrooke, he has discovered in the short time since he stumbled through a portal, is a very sleepy, unassuming town. The port is far less crowded than any he’s ever visited back home. In fact, at this hour, it’s all but deserted. There is no noise and light spilling from taverns beckoning sailors to drink and spend their coin, no brothel or loitering whore to be seen anywhere, no late-night gambling or merchant stalls.

He has his target. He has his crew. He also has a sword, and several knives hidden in strategic places upon his person. He takes a deep breath, then motions to the other four, and they make their way along the docks, to the lone sailing ship tied up at the pier. The Jolly Roger.

The gangplank is down. Jack leads the way up to the deck, almost giddy with excitement. The price he paid for the tip-off looks to have been worth it. It’s not nearly this easy to even board a ship back home.

“I don’t think you want to do that, mate,” says a man’s voice behind him. It’s a hard, world-weary sort of voice, a voice that has seen more than its share of thievery. It’s followed by a soft cooing sound that seems out of place. The voice goes on, “Turn around.”

Jack is already doing so. His heart is simultaneously somewhere around his knees, and trying to jump into his throat. He knows that voice, or rather, he knows what a voice like that means. It’s a voice used to giving orders. He’s heard it from many a captain, though never quite like this.

The man standing in front of him looks like he was made for thieving hour. He is dark-haired and dressed in shades of black and grey and navy, so that he seems to blend into the falling night, except for the pale skin of his face and hand. His one hand, which is currently holding a sword, the curved blade pointing at Jack. The other arm ends in a wicked curve of metal. More metal gleams at his belt: a strange-looking badge of some kind.

Strapped to his chest is a baby. Jack blinks, taken aback, but it is definitely a baby, cradled against the man’s chest, tiny hands flailing a little.

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