bb i'll stay with you as long as you want me to


Sterek AU - “Princes” requested by felicitysmock:

“Your highness.” Derek gives a small, regal smile - and isn’t it funny, how such a thing as generic as a smile can convey rank in that way, betraying superiority over others - and releases Stiles’ hand from where he’d caught it mid-punch. (An accident. Mostly.)

“Prince Derek,” Stiles says, aiming for respectful decorum even through the tangible annoyance in his tone. When sneaking around the palace, he prefers not to be followed, and does not have control over his actions might he hear footsteps behind him. Hence, the near assault on the crown prince of Beacon Hills.

“You might find yourself in safer company with a sword for defense, instead of fists.”

Stiles smiles - sneers - politely. This is a game they’d often played when they were kids. Years have passed but Stiles still remembers the objective: to feign pleasantries so the Kings, their fathers, didn’t sense the dislike they had for each other. Normally they’d only play when they had an audience; they were currently alone.

Calmly: “I might find myself in safer company, if visiting nobility stayed in the guest quarters they were given.”

The smile that passes Derek’s lips this time is decidedly less princely, instead there’s a mischievousness Stiles recognizes from memories of 14-year-old Derek.

He says, “Apologies. It’s just you’re dressed for a ride, yet your waist is absent a scabbard.”

Here it was, the reason for sneaking around his own home. If Scott caught word that Stiles tried to ride to the camp his father was being held at to haggle for his release, he’d find himself tied to a chair until sense returned.

“I often go without a blade,” Stiles says, “As I never had the patience to hone the skill.”

He prefers to exploit enemies from the pages of books, is more useful crafting war strategies than leading the front line. He had, of course, the best teachers at his disposal and couldn’t have gone all his life without wielding a sword under their instructions, but there was a level of dedication that was needed to become fluent in the art. Stiles had directed that dedication elsewhere.

Now, on the brink of war, his father a flaunted captive of the Argents, and no one to represent the royal family on the battlefield but him, he wishes he’d have returned to the training ring more often than what was mandatory.

They were positioned close to one another in the palace hall, the wall torches making a show of wild shadows across Derek’s face. There was now a groomed beard where before were adolescent blemishes, there was a strong structured jaw, and a broadness that made their near-same height feel exaggerated.

Even more so when Derek leaned close in a manner of not wanting to be overheard, “War is inevitable.”

Stiles felt wholly aggravated at this point. “And?”

“And you can’t stop it. My parents will join as a display of loyalty to yours, and the both of us will end up on the field.”

None of this was unknown to him. “What would you have me do?”

A crease has formed between Derek’s dark eyebrows. Stiles lost track of when their game had stopped.

Like it was obvious, “I would have you not fall into a trap. Yes, I know you were visited with news of your father, you’d have to be blind to not see how eager you were to leave with the messenger.”

“Fall into a trap,” Stiles echoes, tone completely absent of the politeness from before. “You see me as a child, too naive to know the difference between truth and deceit?”

“I see you as desperate,” Derek argues, “As any son would be in your place. The Argents trade in master swordsmen, it is not speculation to say you can not win this way, it is truth. They will have stationed the best of their men to guard your father, and if you were to ride in, sword less, and alone, they would strike you down. Your kingdom would he heirless, your people without a ruler, those you love robbed of you-”

Stop.” Stiles fists his hair with both hands and turns from Derek, so the side of his face is visible only.

Long, aching moments pass where Stiles labores through the act of breathing. When it doesn’t take his whole strength to do so, he drops his hands, rings his fingers around his wrist, still turned from Derek.

His voice shakes, another sign of his weakness. “You think I don’t already know this?”

A noise of anger and disbelief parts from Derek’s lips. “Yet you would still go?”

“I would have this done,” Stiles closes his eyes. “Three months is a long time to wait for news of your father’s life.”

Another moment of silence passes. Then, Derek’s hand grips his elbow, stilling the restless movement of his arms.

“There are other ways.”

Stiles scoffs, an airy, short burst of laughter. “Have you already forgotten? I can’t wield a blade.”

He hasn’t let himself admit how much of a drawback this truly is. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he was admitting it to Derek now, they’d never been friends.

Stiles turns back around and finds Derek with a expression he isn’t familiar with. With a softness to it, it was wholly genuine.

Derek says, “I’ll teach you.”

steveandbucky-deactivated201702  asked:


Bucky frowns and blinks his eyes open, focusing on the darkness of the room around him, skin chilled and bared. He rubs his knuckles against his eyes, chasing the sleep away, trying to figure out what woke him.

The windows are open, the soft light of the full moon shining through. It paints the room with shadows as much as it brightens it. The curtains move as a cold breeze sweeps inside, giving Bucky the answer to his question.

He doesn’t like the cold. Never has and never will.

Bucky shivers again as the breeze touches his skin, lips turning down. It is not just the cold that is bothering him. He moves, his confusion deepening when he only feels the hard mattress under his head and not one of the soft pillows he always lays his head on.

“What the fuck,” Bucky mutters, peering over the edge of the mattress and checking the floor.

It’s not uncommon for him to kick or throw things — or Steve — off the bed, but only his clothes from last night are found in a pile by the nightstand. It’s not until he turns on his side to face Steve that he finds out what happened to both his pillow and blankets.

Right there by his side, with all the blankets wrapped around his legs and waist, is Steve. He’s clutching Bucky’s pillow to himself, nose buried in it, only his eyes and the top of his head peeking out from behind it. Bucky’s heart trips over itself at the sight, at how peaceful and young Steve looks when he’s sleeping, like he’s not carrying the entire world on his shoulders.

“Steve,” Bucky whispers, trying to tug at one of the blankets wrapped around him.

Steve snuffles and scowls in his sleep, bringing his legs up to his chest and effectively stopping Bucky from tugging anything. He also rubs his face against Bucky’s pillow, making a little soft sound in the back of his throat.

“Fuck, but you’re cute,” Bucky murmurs, lips twitching.

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Holiday Sadness

We’re going to pretend that today is the 25th of December :) I’ve had this in my drafts since last Christmas and never had time to finish it until now. Even though its far from the holidays, I still wanted to post it. So enjoy! <3 (and pls let me know if there is any mistakes)

It came down thick, coating the streets and building with blinding white snow. Jonathan watched them silently, absentmindedly letting his fingers trace zig-zags on the ones that had fallen onto his window. His eyes watched as cars flew by below him, their bright headlights catching the drift of the snow and lighting them up, and he vaguely wondered where they were all going.

Were they headed somewhere to visit family? To go and buy a last-minute gift? Were they stuck with having to work instead of spending time with their loved ones? Or maybe they weren’t visiting anyone and were in the same boat as him; spending their Christmas Eve alone.

A few days ago, his mother called informing him that she wouldn’t be able to spend this christmas with him due to her having to work on Christmas Eve and Day. She had apologized as many as times as she could, with him assuring her that it was fine and that he didn’t mind spending it without her for one year. Not too soon after he hung up with his mom, his sister called, nonchalantly stating that catching a flight out to LA would be useless, so she wouldn’t be coming to spend Christmas with him before hanging up on him without another word.

The heaviness of the news had been weighing down on him ever since. He had never spent Christmas alone before, let alone without his mother and sister. Without them, Christmas didn’t feel like…. Christmas. Everything was boring and dull; the holiday songs that he used to enjoy were now repetitive and irritating and the thought of baking gingerbread cookies didn’t excite him. And besides, he was never the greatest at baking anyway. All the things he usually enjoyed didn’t appeal to him without the presence of his family.

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anonymous asked:

(Part 1) Oh, wise one, I have only a few people to ask for advice about this so I figured I'll get a new opinion, if you'll help me out! I have been with my husband for 7 years (2 of them married) and, well, I'll make a ridiculously long story as short as I can. (Background: he's latin american, and they are much more affectionate than americans(like me), generalizing from everyone I know. Throughout our relationship, he's had a number of female friends who are more affectionate than I'd like...

and I have told him it makes me uncomfortable and Asked him to ask them to stop, but there is one girl who is a huge problem. They talk about sexual things and “joke” about sexual things they (according to him) have not done, and he has hung out with her in secret, so secret in fact that she came here from his old country and they hung out and took a roadtrip AND HE DIDNT TELL ME ABOUT IT. I found out from my grandma asking my mom who she was on facebook because the girl has me blocked.
And I have confronted him many times and each time he says he will stop talking to her but he never does and every time I happen to see that she’s sent him messages he says hes not talking to her but she wont stop talking to him. 2 times ago I seriously told him I want a divorce because this will never change, but we decided one more strike and its over. Then it happened again and i said okay once more but seriously this is the last chance. Then two days ago he was on his phone at the theater before the movie and i glanced to see what he was doing and saw the main list of messages and a few down was a message from her that day at 7pm. I dont think he had responded, and we had been together out with friends since 6. So I need to bring it up again in the next few days (i havent because weve been working and havent seen each other except at 3am in bed). Its hard to decide to leave and i dont know what to do! If you have advice I would appreciate it! Thx 

Oh man, normally I try to be measured and thoughtful in these things but Anon, why do you keep giving this dickbag another chance? You’ve given him like four last chances. Why are you still with him? 

Because the thing is, whether or not he’s actually cheating on you – which I gotta tell you, having watched a lot of the TV show Cheaters, he’s almost definitely cheating on you – he obviously doesn’t respect you. He tells you what you want to hear and then does what he wants. He hides things from you when he knows they’ll upset you, and probably not because he doesn’t want to upset you but because he doesn’t want to get caught and have to talk you into staying with him again. He knows what he’s doing hurts you and he clearly doesn’t give a shit. I am sorry, I am so sorry, and this is not your fault, but your husband is a jerk. 

I know it’s hard to leave a committed relationship. I know that there’s shame involved, and a feeling of failure, and I know that you may not be in a great financial position to leave him. I know you might be afraid of being alone. But bb. Figure out a way to swing it and leave him. If he hasn’t gotten better by now he’s not going to, and he clearly a) doesn’t care about what makes you happy and b) doesn’t care overly much if you find out he’s hurting you. The only reason he keeps talking you into staying is that then he’s got a guaranteed partner to come home to. Ask yourself, what are you getting out of this relationship? What is he getting out of this relationship? Who’s getting more? I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume he’s getting everything he wants and you’re getting nearly nothing you want. And do you really feel happy having to keep tabs on him? Do you really feel like a good person when you spy on him because you can’t trust him? 

If you are in a position to leave him, leave him. Don’t confront him, don’t ask him to change. Tell him you’re done and leave him. Better yet, leave him while he’s out and leave him a note telling him you’ve left him, and don’t ever talk to him without a lawyer again. Take your stuff, clean out what’s yours from any joint bank accounts you guys have, cut off his access to any personal accounts you have, find somewhere safe to stay, and leave him. 

There is no aspect of being single that is worse than being in a relationship with someone who has no respect for you. You deserve better. I hope you find it.