#that shit changed everything. it makes me want to go back and watch 1-3a again because my whole world view is different.

[prophetofnothing]

kitten im gonna be honest with you daddys gonna have to watch season 4 of teen wolf

[rsbry-beret]

There’s Only So Much You Can Do

CHAPTER ONE- Virgo

Find it on Ao3 here

This is a multi-chapter work, so this is just chapter 1 :)

-0-0-0-

Virgo-

New opportunities are knocking on your door! With all the change coming, remember to keep your feet on the ground, your head held high, and your heart in the right place.

It all went to shit on a Tuesday.

San Francisco was already fucking weird, alright? Tobin didn’t think he could be blamed for not noticing, immediately, that it was weirder than normal. The city always smelled a little like shit, like most cities do, so he was used to blocking that out, so he couldn’t be blamed for not noticing the sudden cinnamon, smoke, bergamot smell.

And fog comes on quick sometimes. It wasn’t unusual for it to be clear one moment and then the next, Tobin wasn’t able to see a foot ahead of him, whatever, okay, climate change.

But then the streets were empty and his steps were echoing, the only noise he could hear, and his head started hurting like there was someone behind his forehead screaming let me out, and he stumbled and fell to his knees and was panting on the concrete, blind, he was-

-listen to me, no, listen to us, don’t you hear the people shouting in the streets, for mercy, justice, help, help us, why aren’t you listening, can’t you hear-

-awake at home.

-0-0-0-

He woke up on Tuesday and everything was the same, but also entirely different.

Tobin didn’t remember his dreams, not really, nothing beyond a lingering feeling of fear or sweat or peace.

That’s how he knew it wasn’t a dream.

But he got up anyway, put on his clothes like he remembered doing, ate cereal alone while Leif was in the shower like he remembered doing, and when Leif walked out of his room and looked Tobin in the eyes, he saw-

-should I tell him, no, no, maybe things will be different today, I hope he notices, I hope he doesn’t, I’m going to be late, there’s so much to do, god knows how much I have to do-

-something else.

He pretended it was a dream, but he knew it wasn’t.

It was easier to pretend, though.

-0-0-0-

After work, Leif wanted to go for drinks, and Tobin did, too.

Still, “I can’t,” and he couldn’t, not really, not when people kept looking at him all day in the office, and he kept seeing something, their thoughts, their memories, their innermost souls, hallucinations.

Leif shrugged, and Tobin didn’t need to look at him to see he was disappointed. He let him walk away, anyway.

He googled “I can read people's minds” and the internet told him what he was feeling was empathy. Yelp had a ‘top ten metaphysical stores near you’, so Tobin chose the first one and started walking.

He didn’t believe in any of this. Magic wasn’t real, superpowers weren’t either, it was bullshit, tourist-trap shops with silk curtains and overpriced crystal balls. It wasn’t real. He didn’t think it was.

But either it was real, or Tobin was going insane. And maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t want to be crazy, really didn’t, so if he had to believe that he was Professor X, then he would. If only for his own peace of mind, if nothing else.

-0-0-0-

The first place was ridiculous, like he thought it would be. So was the second, and the third, and the seventh. It was already nearly midnight, and Tobin had work tomorrow, but he found an eighth place just on his walk home, no more than a few blocks from his and Leif’s apartment.

The windows were curtained so he couldn’t see in, but the sign above the door had a picture of weighing scales and a simple font reading “The Library”

One more couldn’t hurt, anyway.

He stepped in and it felt different than all the other places, right away. The room smelled earthy, sage and dirt and rain. It was lit mostly from candles, but there were a few fairy lights scattered in corners, and all of that wasn’t anything new, most places had that, the flickering lighting and warm colors, but it felt different here, intuitively. Tobin could tell it was different.

The walls and floor were clean hardwood, no carpets and no draped silk and no beaded curtains. Bookshelves took up most of the floor space, leaving it feeling cramped in a distinctly non-rustic way. It was not intentional, to make the room feel genuine. Whoever owned the shop really had just run out of space.

Tables were scattered anywhere there was room and often places where there wasn’t any, piled with books stacked precariously, glittering crystals and normal rocks thrown together in what couldn’t really be called a display.

Tobin didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he exhaled.

“September birthday?” Asked a rough voice from his left, face lost in the stacks of shelves. “Early September?”

Tobin frowned, and started wandering to find whoever was talking to him. “Yeah? The eighth.”

A beat of silence, then the voice said again, from his right, “I could tell. The eighth? That’s a good number.”

Tobin turned a corner and saw an androgynous person sitting on the floor with a small book open in their lap. They didn’t look up at him when he approached. “Why are you here, Virgo?”

“Uh.” Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what to say. “My name’s Tobin.”

“Why are you here, Tobin?” They asked again, and this time they looked up at him, and he saw-

-light shifting through leaves, watching the shadows change as the time marched on, hands caked in mud, feet bare against river water, dancing, the moon reflecting in the water and dancing with them-

-the person blink.

“Oh,” they said, then stood suddenly, lurching, and they were much taller than Tobin thought, at least a full foot taller, and then they said, “oh,” again, and “Right then, come with me.”

Tobin followed, because what else could he do?

The unnamed person led him through the winding maze of bookshelves, and the two of them came upon a door, and Tobin watched them fumble, awkward, for a set of keys. They opened the door and ushered Tobin inside the dark room, and Tobin was suddenly very aware of the fact that this was a very easy way to be kidnapped, but… he went in anyway.

They followed closely behind him, and shut the door.

Tobin didn’t have time to be scared before lights flicked on, these ones cool ceiling bulbs like they have most everywhere else, and then the person rushed in front of him and sat in the farthest chair, one that looked like it must have been taken from a dining room set, and they gestured at the matching chair across from them, nearest to Tobin.

He sat.

Silence reigned for a moment before the other said “You can call me Parker. Let’s get started, I guess.”

-0-0-0-

Time went… funny, in the back room.

Tobin could have sworn he was there for hours, days, even, listening to everything Parker would tell him about herbs and stones and runes. It sounded silly at first, but then Parker noticed he was drifting and switched to telling stories, folklore from a hundred different cultures. That didn’t seem nearly as weird. Tobin listened hungrily.

When he stepped out of the shop, it was only 12:30. Somehow, this didn’t come to him as much of a shock.

At home, Leif was already asleep, apparently deciding to get to bed early. Tobin set two of the white candles Parker had given him on the dining room table, and went to his room, trying not to freak the floorboards and wake Leif up. In his room, Tobin set up his last three candles on his night stand (yellow, white, blue), and put labradorite on his windowsill, and then went to sleep.

-0-0-0-

He woke up remembering cinnamon and fog.

[aliciameade]

Fade Into You - Ch. 2

Title: Fade Into You (Chapter 2 of 5) Author: aliciameade Rating: T Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Tip for newlyweds: send a wedding invite to every billionaire whose address you can find because it's a 50/50 chance their assistants just send you a perfunctory gift without ever wondering who the hell you are. Or: Beca had a really good terrible idea when she got tired of being broke in New York.

Also on AO3 and FFnet, but I probably can’t link there idk.

(Chapter 1)

Amy unsurprisingly declared her ignorance of the invitation situation when Beca confronted her, stating she assumed they’d added their parents and the Bellas to their list as a joke, or a way to get more free stuff.

There wasn’t much Beca could say to that. It wasn’t Amy’s fault the list was wrong.

~ ~

~ ~

Two days later when Beca opened their mailbox, she pulled out one of their returned RSVP cards.

From Glen Hauenstein, the President of Delta Airlines.

“Holy shit.” She rushed up the stairs and almost fell through the door in her haste. In the absolute chaos they’d created in their personal lives, she’d forgotten what had started it: one teeny tiny gigantically unethical idea.

“Hey, you,” Chloe said with a calm smile over a cup of tea.

Beca held up the envelope. “Someone replied.”

“Oh, my God! Who?” Chloe set down her cup and rushed to join Beca still standing barely inside the door.

“Delta.”

“Shut UP!” Chloe said with a shove to Beca’s shoulder. It was so hard it actually threw Beca against the door. “Sorry. Let’s open it,” she said as she snatched the envelope out of Beca’s hand and ripped open its seal. She pulled out the RSVP card. “Glen regrets to inform us that he cannot attend,” Chloe said with a grin as she waved the card in front of Beca’s face.

“Oh, thank God,” Beca said with a sigh of relief.

“Wait; there’s something else in here.” Chloe reached back into the envelope to pull out what looked like a blue credit card. “Beca…”

“What? What is it?”

“It’s a five thousand dollar Delta gift card.”

Beca dropped her purse. “What?!” She grabbed the card out of Chloe’s hand and flipped it over. Surely, it had to be fifty dollars, or maybe five hundred, but… “Holy shit. Holy shit!” She threw it across the room like it was on fire.

“No! Don’t lose it!” Chloe chased after it and found it where it had slid under the edge of their bed.

“We can’t keep that, Chloe!”

“Well, it’s not like we can send it back!”

“Yes, we can!” Beca said, clapping with each word to make her point. “That was the plan. We can send something back with the sad news of our break-up and it’s all fixed!”

“He runs the airline, baby. It’s not like this actually cost him anything.”

Beca was about to reply when Chloe’s statement resonated with her—one word in particular. She grit her teeth. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Chloe sat down on their bed and kicked her feet excitedly. “And now we know it works!”

Beca rolled her eyes at how fucking cute she was being. She knew this was bad. It was so, so bad. But Chloe liked it. Chloe wanted to pretend to be engaged a little longer and...Beca was good with that. She took off her shoes to cross the room and climb onto the bed and flop into her spot. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to hell for this.”

Chloe giggled and turned to crawl over until she was dropping down to kiss Beca’s cheek. “I’m going anyway. It’ll be nice to have you there with me.”

Beca felt herself blush at the thoughts that flooded her imagination as to what Chloe could have done to warrant her confidence in her afterlife.

“So, where would we go? If we keep it, I mean.”

“Apparently, we’re going to Fiji if we don’t stop this runaway train.”

Chloe shrugged next to her. “I’ll take care of it.”

~ ~

~ ~

More RSVPs trickled in over the next couple of weeks. Cousins and coworkers who could not attend. Parents who would. Bellas who would. CEOs who regretfully couldn’t. And it was never the right time to call off the wedding—someone else was going through a break-up, or was sick, or a mom had a bad day at work.

There was always a reason. The one time Chloe couldn’t come up with one, Beca blurted some lie about her dad and Sheila starting couples therapy that day so they absolutely could not do it then.

Their fake wedding was two weeks away and neither of them had figured out how to call it off.

It was Saturday afternoon when someone buzzed their door.

“UPS!” crackled through when Beca asked who it was and she buzzed them up.

“What did you order?” she said when she dropped the delivered Amazon box onto the bed where Chloe sat.

“Nothing.” She looked up at Beca and Beca knew what she was thinking. “Get the scissors; let’s open it!”

Beca rushed to grab them from the drawer and returned to slice the tape. She let Chloe pop the sides open and pull out a rectangular package wrapped in white and silver paper. There was a slip of paper with it and she read, “To Chloe and Beca. May you live happily ever after. I’m so sorry I cannot make it to your special day, but I will be with you in spirit. Never stop singing your love to each other. Congratulations. Love, Mrs. Higgins. Oh, my God, Mrs. Higgins!” she added with a squeal. “Should we open it? Or should we wait until after the wedding?”

“Chloe,” Beca said slowly. “There’s not going to be a wedding. Remember?”

“Oh, right. I didn’t mean...nevermind. So should we open it?”

Beca sighed and sank onto the bed. This ruse was taking a serious toll on her morals even if it was pervertedly fun and exciting. “I guess?”

Chloe tore into the paper with another squeal to reveal the set of eight hundred-thread count navy blue Egyptian cotton sheets from their registry. “Oh, heck yes!” she said with a grin as she tossed the package in the air. “I’m going to go wash these and they’re going on our bed tonight.”

Beca expected to have a fitful rest when she slid into the luxuriously silky sheets that they basically stole. But when Chloe slid up behind her and draped her arm over her waist while she kissed Beca’s shoulder, she forgot, at least for a little bit, that what they were doing was wrong.

Because something about it all felt so right.

~ ~

~ ~

“Remember how you were going to call off the wedding?” Beca asked as she zipped her suitcase while sipping from her fresh cup of coffee thanks to her new Keurig. They’d be in a cab to the airport in the next fifteen minutes for a two-week trip to Fiji, courtesy Delta Airlines and the Mitchell and Beale families.

Somehow an entire wedding got planned without either of them having to lift a finger (thanks, Aubrey), everything from rehearsal to dinner to the photographer to the ceremony and reception and the week-long honeymoon that the Bellas all chipped in for: a private bungalow on a neighboring island away from their guests.

“Yeah, you two are a regular Bonnie and...Bonnie,” Amy said as she sat on her suitcase and waved Beca over to zip it.

“Thanks again for your help, Ames.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She watched Chloe double-check the garment bag that contained their dresses. Beca didn’t even remember how it happened; one afternoon they were drinking white wine and suddenly they were in Macy’s picking out dresses suitable for an island wedding. “I will. But let’s get to Fiji first. We’ll announce it at the rehearsal dinner and then we can run off and do our own thing for the rest of the trip.”

“I seriously can’t believe we’re doing this. What is wrong with us?” Beca asked as she shoved her various chargers into her carry-on and made sure her passport was in her purse.

“We’re seizing the day.” Chloe swatted her ass with her own passport before putting it away and opening the door. “Let’s go get married.”

“We’re not getting married!” Beca had to say it for herself as much as for Chloe, it seemed. And that was a little...confusing for Beca.

“You know what I mean. Now, let’s go!”

~ ~

~ ~

Twenty hours on an airplane was a lot, even with two stops along the way. The longest break was in Los Angeles and that was after a paltry six-and-a-half hour flight. Beca didn’t even need to stretch her legs yet.

It wasn’t all bad, though.

It was nice being upgraded to First Class when they checked in. They’d done it at a self-serve kiosk only for it to send them to the counter. The agent informed them that as a guest of the airline, they would be upgraded. Chloe had looked at Beca with such shock that Beca had to be the one to thank the agent and take their new boarding passes for seats 3A and 3B.

“Uh, excuse me? What just happened?” Amy asked from where she waited behind them.

“We got bumped to First Class,” Beca said, still feeling woozy from it. “I guess because we booked the tickets with the gift card? Whatever; let’s go before they change their mind.”

“You bitches,” Amy grumbled. “You better bring a hot towel back to me in steerage.”

It was nice to not have to sit sandwiched between Chloe and Amy for twenty hours. It was nice to hear Chloe tell the flight attendant they were wedding-bound, even if it was just a ploy to get free champagne (which would have been free anyway because they were in First Class, but Chloe seemed tickled to share the information regardless).

It was nice to have Chloe flip the armrest up between them to lean over and snuggle into Beca while they both settled to sleep for as much as the trans-Pacific journey as possible. Beca moved her arm to put it around Chloe’s waist so she could pull her in closer. And it was nice.

~ ~

~ ~

“Oh, hell no,” Beca said when she stepped onto the tarmac in Nadi for their connection to Savusavu and saw what was waiting for them. “That’s a fake airplane. Can it even carry our baggage?”

“Well, we all know you have enough emotional baggage for the three of us,” Amy said under her breath and Beca ignored her.

“It’ll be fine, Becs,” Chloe said as she nudged her to start walking toward the plane, which only had six windows along its fuselage.

“I really don’t want to die before our fake wedding.” She let the man waiting by the door help her up the two steps and into the tiny aircraft. She even had to duck so her head wouldn’t hit the ceiling and she yelped when someone grabbed her from behind.

“I promise not to let anything bad happen to you,” Chloe said into her ear before kissing her cheek and peeling off to sit.

It was single seating along the sides of the plane which, by Beca’s count, could seat twelve people. There were only five aboard: their party of three and what appeared to be a couple based on how affectionate they were being even across the narrow aisle between their seats. Chloe seemed to notice them, too, because she reached across the aisle to find and hold Beca’s hand.

~ ~

~ ~

Just as Aubrey said would happen, there was a van waiting for them when they landed at Savusavu Airport. Beca wasn’t sure how she survived that last leg of the journey between the trying take-off (seriously, it sounded like the engines had asthma) and landing on what amounted to little more than a dirt road. She’d sweat through the back of her tee and it hadn’t been that warm on the plane.

“You okay?” Chloe said with amusement as she plucked Beca’s shirt from where it clung to her skin while they climbed into the van. “You made it in one piece. Told you I’d take care of you.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled but couldn’t help but smile a little at the way Chloe looped their arms together to sit close. It seemed the other couple from the plane wasn’t traveling to their resort and the three of them had the van to themselves.

“Ladies, welcome,” their driver said. “My name is James. I’ll be taking you out to Koro Sun. Vijay will make sure you are comfortable.” He nodded at the man who’d placed their baggage in the back of the van. He was now armed with a tray of rolled white cloths.

“Chilled towel?” he said with a subtle accent as he offered one to Amy with a pair of tongs.

“Ooh, don’t mind if I do,” she said as she promptly unfurled it and put it under her shirt where Beca knew it was getting tucked under her boobs.

“Yeah, thanks,” Beca said after Chloe had accepted hers. She was still working on unrolling it to dab at her face when she hissed at cold landing on the back of her neck.

“You seem to need it more than I do,” Chloe whispered as she massaged her neck a little through the cool cloth. “Ooh, drinks!”

Beca blinked out of the daze she’d been put into to find a green coconut with the top cut off and a brightly colored straw and tiny umbrella sticking out of it. “Is there alcohol in that?” she asked as the man prepared to hand one to her.

“No, but I’m happy to add some.” He was reaching for a bottle of something dark from a spot next to their seat and pouring before she’d even agreed.

“Thanks,” she said when he finally passed it to her. She took a long, long drink. It was amazing. And much-needed.

“Yeah, I’ma need you to hit me up with a spot of that,” Amy said, stretching her arm out and waving her coconut in Vijay’s face.

“Me, too, please,” Chloe said with a polite smile. “Good idea, babe.”

Beca shrugged and took another sip. “When in Rome.”

“Yeah, Shawshank? I thought Chloe was the one who failed Maps? We’re in Fiji. Not Spain.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed to herself. She was in Fiji...to not get married.

What the everloving fuck?

~ ~

~ ~

“Okay, ladies, here we are! Welcome to Koro Sun Resort.”

Beca peered out the dark window of the van. Despite the tint, it was clear they were deeply in paradise. She could tell the water was blue, or maybe even turquoise. There were trees everywhere and if there weren’t trees there were beaches. Pure, white sandy beaches.

“Coming through! Ladies first!” Amy announced as soon as Vijay opened their door. Beca watched her march toward what appeared to be the main entrance.

“After you,” Beca said with a nod to Chloe.

“Oh, wow,” Chloe said once she was standing outside the van. “Becs, hurry up.” She reached back and took Beca’s hand to pull her out. “Look at this.”

“Oh...wow,” Beca echoed. It was...beyond anything she could imagine. It smelled like rain and flowers and the sea and the only things she could hear were the breeze, birds, and what sounded like a waterfall. She felt Chloe’s arm around her waist.

“This is so romantic,” Chloe said quietly. “Come on; let’s go check in. I want to see our room. Aubrey said it’s an ‘Edgewater Villa.’”

~ ~

~ ~

True to its name, their private villa was situated against the edge of a lagoon inset from the ocean. They had to get to the front door via a footbridge over a private pool through a garden.

“Okay, I’m here for this,” Beca said as she made her way through the house. It was epically luxurious without crossing the line into tacky territory. Everything felt organic, made from stone and woven plant fibers with windows everywhere to remind them they were surrounded on three sides by water (the fourth was curtained by the rainforest).

Chloe stopped in the kitchen to see what was stocked for them in the refrigerator so Beca kept going until she found a bedroom.

“Oh...right,” she said to herself as she dropped her carry-on on a chair.

“What’s wrong?” Chloe said from behind her before joining her in the center of the room.

“Nothing,” Beca said quickly. “I just...nevermind. It’s dumb.”

Chloe ran her fingers up Beca’s back to make her scrunch up her shoulders. “I’m sure it’s not dumb. Tell me.”

Beca sighed and gestured at the singular king-sized bed. “I was just surprised is all.”

Chloe smiled and gave her a tug toward the bed. “What—because there’s only one bed? Did you forget we sleep with each other every night? Don’t get shy on me now.”

“No,” Beca mumbled. Her face felt hot at Chloe’s choice of words. She let Chloe pull her along until they were both crawling up the bed to flop on their backs to try it out.

“See?” Chloe reached her arm out across the ample space between them. “Way more room than our bed at home. And comfier,” she added as she wriggled around until she was basically wrapped around Beca to defeat her own point of having more space. “Besides, we’re getting married.” Chloe poked Beca’s cheek and then kissed it. “It’s a little late to not want to sleep with me.”

“We’re not getting married.” Beca turned her head and looked down her nose at the bright eyes and giddy smile looking back at her and she shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Mm, anything you want,” Chloe said before kissing her cheek again and then leaping off the bed. “C’mon! There’s a ladder right off our balcony that takes us down to the water! We need to go swimming!”

Beca cleared her throat and sat up to watch Chloe throw open one of her suitcases and pull out a white bikini and start stripping right there in plain sight. “Yeah, I just…” She gawked when Chloe’s bra came off despite her back being turned toward Beca and having seen it a thousand times already. “I just need a minute after that flight.”

~ ~

~ ~

“Should we be concerned we haven’t seen Amy since we got here?” Beca asked as she combed out her wet hair.

Chloe’s own wet hair thwacked her arm as she flipped it over to put some type of product in it. They were wearing matching white bathrobes fresh from their showers. “She probably has a new boyfriend fanning her with palm fronds in her private courtyard. I wouldn’t worry about her.”

Beca snorted and reached for her moisturizer. “So what’s the deal—do we need to make reservations for dinner? I don’t want to have to wait for a table. I’m fucking tired. What time is it at home?”

“We’re eighteen hours behind New York.”

She glanced at a clock on the wall of the ensuite bathroom and did the math. “So, midnight. Cool.”

“I know; I’m tired, too. But we have to hold out as long as we can to get switched over. I don’t want to be jet-lagged all week when we only have two weeks here.” Chloe’s hair whipped her again as she straightened.

“So, reservations?” Beca reminded as she watched Chloe get the part in her hair straight.

“Oh! No, we don’t need to make reservations. Bree said we get VIP treatment because of our wedding.”

“Right.” Beca looked at their reflections in the wide mirror and Chloe smiled at her through it. She wondered for the umpteenth time how they let this charade get this far. But they were there, so she decided to make the most of it while it lasted. “I’m not going to blow-out my hair. Or put on makeup tonight,” she said as though declaring world peace. “We don’t know anyone here, so fuck it.”

Chloe laughed and bumped her hip with her own. “You don’t need it anyway.”

Beca blushed and reached for her eyeliner as she leaned in toward the mirror.

“You just said you aren’t wearing makeup tonight.”

She paused and looked at Chloe through the mirror again. “This doesn’t count.”

Chloe just shook her head at her and turned to leave. “I’m going to get dressed. Meet me out front.”

“Sure.” She watched Chloe walk away for a second too long because she saw her drop her robe right before she was completely out of sight in their bedroom. It made her hand too unsteady to get her eyeliner on straight so she tossed it back in her bag. “Fuck it.”

~ ~

~ ~

Once again as Aubrey had promised, they were treated as honored guests as soon as Beca gave the maître d′ her name. Dinner was exquisite, a three-course meal that Beca could only assume was locally sourced.

They were strolling along a path, going opposite the way they came so they could explore a little when the thumping rhythm of bass started mixing with the natural sounds of the environment.

“Do you hear that?” Chloe asked just as Beca noticed it.

“Yeah. It sounds like it’s ahead of us. Let’s check it out.”

They kept walking until they found the source: the resort’s nightclub. “Ooh, a bar! C’mon, I need something fruity with an umbrella in it,” Chloe said with a mischievous smile as she grabbed Beca’s hand to head toward the club.

They were carded at the door—probably Beca’s fault—but as soon as Chloe showed her ID they were both waved through with enthusiastic greetings and shown to a small high-top table marked with a Reserved sign and a waiter descended upon them before they’d even finished hopping onto their stools.

“Welcome to Latitude 17, ladies,” a handsome man wearing a tropical flower-covered shirt said as he placed a pair of napkins on the table. “Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. We’re so happy you chose to spend it with us.”

“Thank you!” Chloe said. “So are we!”

Beca held her tongue; there was no need to tell this stranger they weren’t going to go through with it.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Something tropical,” Chloe answered. “And strong.”

“Me, too,” Beca added. “And make sure hers has a tiny umbrella in it. Please.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod before disappearing toward the bar.

“Okay, I could get used to this,” Chloe said as her hand patted Beca’s knee.

Beca noticed she didn’t remove it once the patting stopped. She hoped their drinks would arrive as quickly as they were seated. “Yeah, same.” She looked around the bar and its tropical theme, hibiscus and greenery everywhere, even hanging from the DJ booth on the other side of the room. It was perfect, and being treated like royalty wasn’t too shabby either. “Is this the only bar in the place I wonder?”

“I haven’t looked at the map yet, so I don’t know. Why?”

“Because Amy’s not here, so there must be another,” she said with a smile and it sent Chloe into a fit of giggles. “Okay, calm down. You’re not even drinking yet; it wasn’t that funny.” She’s not quite sure why she would ever tell Chloe to stop laughing; she looked beautiful when she laughed.

“Maybe she’s not finished with her new boyfriend yet. Ooh!”

Beca turned at Chloe’s excitement to see their waiter returning with two fancy and fruity-looking pink drinks in hand. They both had tiny umbrellas and wedges of pineapple on the rims.

“Mai tais for the lovely ladies in love,” he said with a grand smile as he placed the glasses on the table. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks!” Chloe said as she picked hers up right away. “What should we toast to?”

Beca was slow to respond, still hearing the waiter’s words pinballing around in her brain. “Um,” she said as she picked up her drink and turned to face Chloe. She hoped her undue nerves weren’t obvious.

“I know! To you,” Chloe said before tapping her glass to Beca’s.

“Why me?” she asked before Chloe got the straw to her lips.

Chloe smiled at her. “Because we wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“Don’t remind me,” Beca said as she rolled her eyes. The guilt came in waves and she felt it rolling in.

“No, no. Stop it,” Chloe said firmly. “We’re in this amazing place and I wouldn��t change it for the world. We’ll deal with our little...situation when the time comes. Let’s just enjoy this while we can, okay?” She punctuated her request with her sad puppy eyes and as usual, it rendered Beca helpless in arguing.

She felt a smile tug at her lips and it made Chloe’s grow until they were grinning at each other. “Fine!” she said. “To me!”

They tapped their glasses again and drank, both wincing at the same time.

“Okay, when I said strong…” Chloe said with a strained voice.

Beca coughed. “They listened.” It burned. And it was delicious. “Here,” she said as she plucked the paper umbrella out of her glass to drop it into Chloe’s. “Since you love them so much.”

Chloe squealed at the addition and took another long sip. “Hurry up and drink that. I want to dance.”

Beca just laughed and shook her head. “Of course you do. And I’m trying! This isn’t really something I can chug.”

Chloe cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her heart sank to her feet. “Chlo—no. That’s not—no.”

“On the count of three! One—”

It was Chloe’s favorite thing. Challenge Beca to a drinking contest. She figured out the little game years ago for the sole purpose of getting Beca drunker, but Beca participated in it nonetheless because competition ran in their blood. “No, I can’t, I’m not even drunk yet—”

“Two—”

“I wasn’t—”

“Three!”

“No! Baby, I wasn’t trying to—shit!” She threw the straw out of her glass to bring it to her lips and start. It burned and made her eyes water and when she slammed her glass down as carefully and victoriously as she could, saw that Chloe hadn’t even started. She was just staring at her over her untouched glass. “What happened?” Beca said with a laugh. “I’m not the only one getting drunk tonight. Go!”

Chloe’s eyelashes fluttered and then she was drinking until there was nothing but ice in her glass. Her face was flushed when she set it down. “Okay. Come dance.” Chloe grabbed Beca’s hand to drag her off her stool and toward the dance floor.

It wasn’t like Beca was resisting, though; she just wasn’t as quick as Chloe off her seat so she ended up being dragged along trying to catch up until Chloe finally stopped in the middle of the semi-crowded dance floor and turned around to face her, already moving to the beat. Beca didn’t know the song but it had a smooth house beat that wasn’t too fast for her liking. It was easy to slide into the rhythm and soon they were dancing in sync.

She and Chloe had spent countless hours on dance floors together over the years. Dancing with Chloe was as natural as breathing for Beca, though it had taken most of their first year as friends to reach that point.

Now she had no hesitations about reaching out and pulling Chloe against her after she’d turned her back to Beca. Her blood was warm and watching Chloe’s hips in her tight white capris wasn’t helping the matter so she decided to own it and wrap her arm around Chloe’s waist while their hips rocked together.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder at the contact and Beca could tell she was warm, too. The alcohol was probably starting to work its magic on her as well, Beca figured, as she winked at Chloe.

She wasn’t really trying to convey anything with it. Nothing more than a message that she was having fun. But it seemed to translate a little differently for Chloe because suddenly she was turning in Beca’s hold to drape an arm over Beca’s shoulder while the other wrapped around her waist to pull their bodies even closer.

They were close enough that Beca could smell the rum on her breath. It felt infinitely hotter on the dance floor and she was sure Chloe could feel the way her lower back was sweating through the thin material of her tank top. She was grateful she had opted for shorts because she was sure she’d be dead if she’d worn jeans.

She was also sure she should be dead from how intensely Chloe was looking at her. They were just dancing; there was no need for her to make that much eye contact. Yet, she was, and Beca wasn’t sure her heart was up to the task of dealing with it. It was really being put through its paces with how Chloe’s gaze kept drifting to what Beca thought might be her lips, though it was equally possible she was looking at, like, her chin. Or her cleavage, which Beca knew was readily visible in the low scoop neck of her top. She knew if she glanced down, she’d have a good view of Chloe’s, too, thanks to her halter top.

She pulled away as soon as the thought crossed her mind. “I need another drink!” she explained when Chloe looked at her questioningly. She was desperate for space but she didn’t get much; Chloe grabbed her hand to follow her off the floor and back to their table. Beca didn’t sit and neither did Chloe; instead, Chloe stood impossibly close to her until Beca had to tug her hand out of Chloe’s grip to sling her arm around her waist instead.

That seemed to make Chloe happy and she did the same, her fingers tucked into the front pocket of Beca’s denim shorts.

“Where’s our guy?” Beca asked as she looked around the room to get her brain and body to cool off.

“There he is!” Chloe said as she hopped a little and waved him down. They had fresh mai tais in short-order.

“I’m not chugging this one,” Beca said as she picked up her glass.

“Wait!” Chloe said before she could take a drink. “We have to make a toast.”

“We already made a toast,” Beca said as she tried to angle herself so she could look at Chloe without being an inch from her face. “To me, remember?”

“That was my toast.” She felt fingers walk up her back and then glide down to hold her waist again. “It’s your turn.”

Beca just shook her head. She wasn’t going to argue it. “Okay, fine. To us.” She smiled and tapped her glass to Chloe’s and drank. She watched Chloe take a sip, too, on a delay again just as she had been when they were supposed to race.

She didn’t think too hard about why that was.

That was a hopeless path of pain to travel down.

Instead, she focused on how nice it was to be able to hold Chloe as she was and how Chloe was holding her the same way and allowed herself to indulge just a little bit in the fantasy they’d created for themselves. That she was at an island resort with her fiancée set to be married in two short days and—

She grabbed Chloe’s hand from around her waist and pulled it up to the table between them. “A ring!”

“What?”

“You don’t have an engagement ring!” She slapped her own left hand on the table, foregoing her hold on Chloe to do so. “Neither do I! If you proposed to me, I should have a ring. And so should you! I wouldn’t not give you a ring. People are going to expect to see them. They’re always obsessed with engagement rings.”

“We’ll just tell them we left them at home to not risk losing them.”

“No!” Beca said. It was loud enough that she saw Chloe flinch. “No,” she tried again. “We’re going to take the shuttle into town first thing in the morning before everyone shows up and we’re going to get engagement rings.”

Chloe’s hand turned to interlace with Beca’s. “That’s really sweet, but I don’t really have money for an engagement ring.”

“We’ll get fake ones. Or some kind of local thing and we’ll tell people we waited until we were here to get something to remember this by.” She watched Chloe’s face soften until it looked like she was maybe going to cry. “Dude, what?”

Chloe laughed a little and shook her head as she cradled Beca’s cheek with her free hand for a second. “You’re really a romantic, aren’t you.”

“What? No,” Beca said, offended for some reason as she tried to crane her neck away from the touch that felt like heaven.

“Yes, you are,” Chloe said firmly before leaning in to kiss Beca’s cheek. She seemed to hesitate before pulling back and Beca’s heart stopped. Then she moved in to kiss her again, this time close enough to the corner of Beca’s mouth to make her head swim. “Let’s finish our drinks so we can go to bed if we have to be up early to go ring shopping.”

“Yeah,” Beca croaked. “Okay.”

~ ~

~ ~

Beca fell asleep easily, sole credit to the jetlag.

But she woke up two hours later thinking it was time to get up for work only to check her phone to see that it was barely 1:00 am. Any other normal morning at home, she’d have rolled over and fallen right back asleep instead of getting up. But now her brain was awake on New York time and thinking about all the things that happened on their first day on the island.

Chloe changing into her bathing suit. Seeing Chloe drop her robe. Dinner and everyone treating them to the pinnacle of romance. The club. The way Chloe had looked at her, had danced with her, had almost kissed her. Well, she had kissed her, but it was an almost kiss. And the way Chloe had looked at her when she was blathering on and on about rings.

“Can’t sleep?” Chloe murmured next to her.

Her body must have been as restless as her mind. “I’m usually getting up for work right now.” She felt the bed shift and then Chloe’s arm slid around her middle, high enough that Beca had to stop the choking sound from escaping her throat because Chloe’s forearm was definitely touching Beca’s boobs. It was probably an accident, just a miscalculation of an angle, but Chloe didn’t correct it.

She felt lips against her bare shoulder next to the strap of her pajama tank and tried not to shiver. “Pretend you get to sleep in.”

“Trying,” she said with a sigh as she tried to clear her mind of everything yammering in her head.

“Nervous about seeing everybody tomorrow?”

She hadn’t been, but now that Chloe brought it up… “Yeah.”

Chloe squeezed her a little and the motion pushed her arm even more against her boobs. “It’ll be okay. We just have to act like we’re in love.”

Beca sighed but managed to smile a little into the darkness. “I don’t know how good at that I’ll be,” she said, knowing full well she was absolutely head over heels in love with Chloe and no acting would be necessary. She’d been acting like she wasn’t in love with her for years. It would come as a relief to not have to be in a constant mode of restraint. She could take her hand if she wanted, or hug her, or fetch her a fresh drink, or fix an errant lock of hair without raising suspicion.

Chloe chuckled behind her and gave her arm a wiggle. Beca knew it was only meant to jostle her but it scraped right up and over her barely clothed nipples and she shoved her face into her pillow to muffle her gasp.

“I’m pretty sure we know how to act like we’re in love.”

“Mhm,” Beca choked out.

“You know,” Chloe continued and Beca wished more than anything she was narcoleptic so she wouldn’t have to endure it any longer. Her arm started withdrawing and the relief it provided was short-lived because instead of her arm, Chloe’s hand rested on Beca’s stomach. It moved back and forth slowly and Beca wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair, and it was also wrong. She was getting painfully turned on when all Chloe was doing was being her usual touchy self. “People are going to expect us to kiss.”

Beca hadn’t considered that detail in the grand scheme of their scheme. The concept sucked every molecule of oxygen from her lungs. She tried to say, “Oh?” but it came out more like the squawk of one of the parrots she could hear in the trees behind their villa over the sound of the rain. She could feel Chloe’s breath on her shoulder and she twisted her pillow in her fist. It was pure agony.

“Mhm.”

She had to clear her throat because trying to speak failed the first time. “We’ll...cross that bridge when we get to it.” She felt Chloe’s lips on her shoulder again and had to stifle a shiver. The torture needed to end, and fast. “I, uh, think I can fall asleep now.”

“Okay. G’night.”

“Night.”

She didn’t fall asleep for hours.

~ ~

To be continued...

[ghoststorytmaaa-blog]

whoever sent me (6) anons imma answer them in a text post cause it’s about to get long and salty. sorry to everyone else who just let me have my on opinion and didn’t be an ass about it 💕

1. Steve never “dismissed” Bucky’s opinion during CATFA, he was trying to explain why he needed to be in the battle to. Just because he joined the Army anyways doesn’t mean he didn’t care about Bucky’s opinion, but you can’t base your future on what other people think is right for you.

2. Bucky was suffering PTSD, why would he WANT to discuss his torture? In the middle of war during a time where men were heavily discouraged from expressing emotions because they need to be ‘strong’?

3. Bucky NEVER told Steve to leave him alone, he hadn’t seen him in two years. Steve “forcibly dragged him back” because he was triggered by Zemo and thus both a risk to himself and others. Shield didn’t follow him that was Ross’s guys and Steve only went there because he knew Bucky would fight back and there was a shoot on sight order for him.

4. When did Steve ever baby Bucky or tell him to man up? He was being cautious around him in the beginning because he didn’t know if Bucky still remembered him for sure and knew could attack or flee if provoked. He tries to tell Bucky it’s not his fault and looks really sad when Bucky says he isn’t worth it, that’s not insensitivity it’s compassion.

5 was the worst one. Steve NEVER gaslit Bucky. Gaslighting is decieving/lying to make someone question their sanity. He ASKED Bucky if he knew what Zemo wanted, he was desperate for answers. He didn’t withhold from Bucky, robot Zemo showed him a paper for 5 seconds & implied Hydra probably killed the Starks, then fired a missile at him. The letter implies he was in denial. Your idea of toxic is ironic considering you ship Winteriron. Tony has literally never done anything but try to kill Bucky.

P.S. Steve NEVER forced Bucky to fight anybody. Bucky had the option of going home in WWII and Steve asked if he was willing to keep fighting, Bucky said yes. He didn’t ask him to fight in IW either, T’Challa did because he knew they needed everyone who could fight to help. Did we watch the same movies or have you been spending too much time in the Anti-Steve tag?

1) Steve outright ignored Bucky’s opinion because he was willing to DIE being strong headed doesn’t change that he ONLY ran off to war to prove something to Bucky. He didn’t go because he thought it was right, he had NO PLANS to go before Bucky went. He then dismissed Bucky IN Cap 1 when Bucky stated he didn’t think shit was a good idea Steve was like 🤷🏻‍♀️

2. Firstly great generalization there asshole that people with PTSD automatically don’t want too and also check your history facts most people would discuss their situation and a lot of camps had advisors as well as FRIENDS. Among that we’ve SEEN that 40s Bucky would be honest about his emotions with Steve, Steve just fucking blanked him

3) Bucky literally kept legging it from Steve, that’s not an invitation. Then Steve went to stop him from fighting his wait out on a shoot on sight order? Are you telling me that was helpful? Are you telling me that Bucky’s face when Steve went ‘you’ll kill people’ was good? ON TOP OF THAT STEVE STILL HAD NO RIGHT TO DRAG HIM BACK HE HAD NO RIGHT TO TAKE HIM IN Steve kept going and going and chasing him even when Bucky ran and that’s *not fair*

4) Firstly, yep you’re right. It was Ross's men, not SHIELD, it was late and we all make mistakes but an opinion was given and no offer for a debate was made, you sound like a pompous asshole out for a fight. Steve is not a good friend to Bucky, accept it it doesn’t change that he’s a good person who was trying, he just fucked up in this regard

5). Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation that seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or in members of a targeted group, making them question their own memory, perception, and sanity.

Steve deliberately chose to omit the murder of Tony's family, Steve deliberately triggered Bucky into remembering the winter program, Steve deliberately controlled what Bucky knew and what he didn't now, whilst he didn't do it with malicious intent that DOESNT change that it would cause serious trust, reality and memory issues in Bucky AND Tony both. He's controlling their knowledge and their truths, with Bucky it creates a false reality in which he doesn't know everything, doesn't trust what he does know and CANT trust steve. MALICIOUS OR NOT ITS DELIBERATE

( see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtG-jnpw0X8 )

steve rescues Bucky, not once does he ask "are you okay?" " can you walk?" "what happened?"

NOPE it's all about steve with "i thought you were dead" "come on!"

BUCKY ASKS STEVE WHAT HAPPENED THOUGH, AND IF IT HURT, IF HE'S OKAY BUT STEVE DOESN'T ASK BUCKY

He then takes Bucky right to the sound of gunfire, into the fight, letting go of him to walk and only looking back when Bucky talks to him

AND THEN WE GET BACK FROM THE BASE IN WHICH BUCKY IS INJURED, HAS BEEN TORTURED, IN PAIN, COULD ONLY WALK PROPERLY DUE TO ADRENALINE AND MMM I LOVE ME THIS PART

( see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAoD6-CF9Jo )

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAoD6-CF9Jo

1:29 onwards: steve does state some men need medical attention (thank fucking hell, not bucky tho because he's bucky) but the second Peggy comes in Steve forgets about anyone in a five mile radius and HE DOESN'T EVEN TRY AND SHARE THE GLORY DESPITE THE MEN FIGHTING JUST AS HARD AS HIM SO SURE HE'S SELFLESS DEFINITELY YEAH

( see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_X1qo2xsH2c )

3:50 onwards- Steve then instantly lies AGAIN in order to keep up the facade and his reality, even though they'd all JUST seen the truth thats when its proven to be deliberate control and manipulation. HE TRIED TO LIE AGAIN DESPITE GETTING CAUGH

steve's in bucky's house to get Bucky but thinks he has the right to go through Bucky's things, to read his books and his notes. I would actually punch someone if they did this???? That's PRIVATE and steves like "lookie here, whats this??"

Steve, every time Bucky talks "you're lying" "you're wrong" "yes you do know" "you're not thinking right" "i know better" EVEN THOUGH HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY KNOW???? HE DOESN'T ACTUALLY HAVE PROOF??

( see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EK3e8m_xcXw )

Steve then immediately tells Bucky to stop so he doesn't kill anyone, despite having absolutely no qualms with ANY of his other team mates or himself killing because *it goes against his image of bucky*

STEVE DELIBERATELY FORCES BUCKY TO REMEMBER SEVERELY TRAUMATIC EVENTS WHICH MAY BE FALSE IMPLANTS AND WHEN BUCKY CAN'T HIS ANSWER IS *THATS NOT GOOD ENOUGH*

( see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qbG1iJsDfYg )

also adding to the end of you message, I am very aware how toxic winteriron is but again this is fiction and you can write them better then they’re written in canon and develop relationships about traumatic events, which was the whole point of my original post, that yeah steve’s been a bad friend but you can fix it without taking away everything that he is as a character.

AND my post was in no light anti steve rogers, he is by far one of my favorite characters, hell i even write him, but just because he’s my favorite doesn’t make him any less problematic.

i have more but this is already too long and rambling as it is, reminder that this is MY blog and i’m allowed to post MY opinions and if you dislike them or disagree there’s an unfollow and block button for a reason 💕

[hauntedduckdefendor]

The Treehouse

Chapter 1

Authors Note: Mentions it child abuse

Jim Hopper and Joyce Horowitz were the definition of complete opposites.

Joyce was an outcast. She liked, photography, liked to read and kept to herself. She was smart, made good grades, was loved by her teachers, but she didn’t have many friends. Her home life was a nightmare, her parents always fighting, her father a drunk who used her and her mother as a punching bag and their family didn’t bring in a lot of money. She was considered a freak by everyone at school and called trash because of how she dressed, which she purposely chose to hide the bruises her father would leave littering her body and the fact she couldn’t afford anything nicer than second hand

Jim Hopper was the only constant in her miserable life. He was her rock, the only person who could make her smile and take away the darkness that plagued her existence. He was popular, a jock, had parents that adored him, plenty of friends and more than enough girls trying to get into his pants to satisfy any man, yet he still found time for the biggest loser at Hawkins High and she’d never understand why he stayed by her side all of these years.

He had a future and she wouldn’t allow him to ruin that because of her reputation. It was the main reason she’d always told him no. The main reason she tried to avoid him in the halls and why she asked to be seated up front in classes they shared together. Was she crazy for constantly turning away the most popular boy in school? Absolutely, but the need to protect him so he would never have to endure a moment of the shit she dealt with on a daily biases outweighed her own happiness. He couldn’t been seen in public with someone like her.

That didn’t last forever however. Throughout High school Hopper started breaking every rule Joyce had set in place for them. He got better at finding her in the halls after class and managed to discover all of her hiding places during lunch.

“Jesus Hop!” Joyce hissed through clenched teeth when he suddenly appeared at her locker one afternoon, scaring the shit out of her. “What are you doing?” She asked once her heart rate returned to normal, quickly scanning the hall to make sure they were alone.

Hopper just shook his head at her panic. “I missed you.” He pouted playfully, leaning against the locker beside hers. “And no ones around. You don’t have to pretend like I don’t exist.”

Joyce rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your date with Chrissy?”

“Screw Chrissy. The only reason I’m even talking to her is because you’ve practically forced me to date every girl that isn’t you.” He said with a sigh. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to pretend you like someone when you’re in love with someone else?”

Joyce frowned and stared at the floor. Did he have any idea how hard it was for her to constantly push him away? To love him so much she’d sacrifice her own joy to make sure he didn’t become part of the torture she endured? “Please just go before someone sees you.”

“Joyce…” He pleaded, reaching out to touch her arm.

“Jim, what’s taking so long?!” Benny Hammond's voice shot through the both of them like a bullet when he entered the hallway and Hopper quickly removed his hand as he stalked toward them.

Clearing his throat, he took a step back from Joyce. “Just helping with a stuck locker.”

“Oooook…since when did you waste your time helping trash?” Benny asked with disgust, looking between the two.

“Fucking great.” Joyce mouthed to herself at the insult and grabbed her books.

“Don’t be an asshole.” Hopper knew he was crossing a line. Joyce had made it very clear she didn’t want him standing up for her at school, but right then he didn’t care. She was unaware that it literally killed him every time he had to stand by and watch others treat her like yesterday’s garbage. She didn’t deserve that. Hell, no one deserved to be treated the way she was.

“Whatever man.” Benny grabbed Hopper's sleeve and pulled. “Come on. Chrissy's waiting for you.”

Before Hopper had a chance to protest, Joyce slammed her locker shut and walked away.

“Might wanna wash that hand before you catch something.” She heard Benny say to Hopper with a laugh as the two headed in the opposite direction.

“Bastard.” Joyce mumbled to herself, clutching her books to her chest. She was pissed. Pissed at Hopper for not leaving her alone like she asked and pissed at Benny for being a dick when she’d never even spoken a word to him, but this was her life. This was the daily bullshit she'd been dealing with since middle school. Around the time her father thought she was old enough to take a beating for the first time and that’s when she started wearing baggy clothes to hide what he’d done. Started showing up to school like a zombie because she was afraid to sleep and stressing herself out to make good grades. Doing anything to keep from making her father angry.

At first Joyce didn’t mind Hopper stepping in to be her savior. It was nice to know that at least one person truly cared about her, but then she realized how much it hurt to watch kids start giving him shit for doing so. They weren’t accepting of him standing up for the freak and she wouldn't allow him to become a disappointment to his family if he gave up on his dreams worrying about her.

So a compromise was made, much to Hopper's disapproval. They would remain best friends and carry on with their friendship as long as it wasn’t at school or in public where the wrong person could catch wind of it. The situation wasn’t practical, but it worked for now.

They had known one another since they were 3 years old and the bond they developed over the years was unbreakable. No matter how many girls Joyce talked Hopper into dating, he’d never share the same feelings with them that he had for her. He loved her more than anything and was thoroughly convinced that would never change. That one day he would make her finally give in and have her all to himself, show the world she was his. And even though she tried to push him away, he knew she loved him and that it would completely break her if she lost him. She couldn’t hide behind her makeshift shield forever.

-

Hopper was nervous as he climbed the aging ladder to his and Joyce's tree house later that evening. Something the two of them had built together the summer after Hopper saw Joyce’s bruises for the first time. With the help of his father, the beautiful wooden box became Joyce's sanctuary.

It was settled in the woods that separated the Hopper farm from the dilapidated trailer Joyce sadly called home. A place no one knew existed unless they got lost and decided to drive down the abandoned looking gravel driveway that was getting extremely overgrown.

Jim’s father had suggested the location to keep it hidden and make it convenient for Joyce to use as an escape after his son told him about the abuse she received at home. He already disliked her father, having arrested him more than once for public intoxication and would have loved bringing him down to the station for child abuse had Jim not talked him out of it. The two preteens managed to convince him it was a one time deal and would never happen again, even though he knew better of it. So to not add even more stress to the poor girls life the least he could do was offer her a little bit of safety in the form of their tree house and considering the Hopper family was wealthy, it turned out better than any kid could hope for.

A fresh coat of paint wouldn’t hurt and a few boards needed to be replaced, but other than that, it showed no signs of crashing down around them and for that Hopper was grateful since his growth spurt was relentless. There was no doubt the constant weight inside had doubled from when it was originally built as they hit puberty and were turning into young adults.

When Hopper reached the hatch for the door he heard music playing and knew Joyce was still mad. That was the main reason he was showing up late to meet her here like he did every day, because he didn’t want to fight with her, but he bit his tongue and crawled through the small opening anyway to face the consequences of what happened at school.

All she offered him upon entering was a quick glance and then immediately returned her eyes back to the book she was reading.

“Hey.” He greeted, dropping the door back in place before joining her on the couch that was purposely settled by the biggest window in the tree house. Since they didn’t have electricity, this offered the most natural lighting and was undoubtedly her favorite spot in the room.

Joyce gave him a half ass wave, but never looked up from the pages.

Hopper frowned and leaned back against the arm of the couch so he was sitting sideways facing her. “I’m sorry about Benny.”

Joyce chose to ignore his apology. “How was your date?”

“Can we not talk about her?” He asked with a groan.

“Then why are you here, Hop?” She snapped. “You know I’m pissed, so if you didn’t come to talk about your day, then leave. Because you know exactly what I’m going to say when its my turn to share.”

Hopper growled to himself and ran a hand over his face. “I don’t want to fight with you, Joyce.”

“Then why do you keep making things more difficult than they have to be? Its pretty simple. Stay away from me at school.” She finally lifted her head to look at him, hoping to get her point across.

“I don’t want to stay away from you!” He yelled, getting frustrated. “I fucking love you and I hate everything about this arrangement.” His hand reached out to touch her side and she jerked away from him with a soft gasp. If he didn’t know any better he’d assume she just didn’t want him touching her, but that was an all too familiar reaction to pain. “That son of a bitch.” His frustration quickly turned to anger. “What pissed him off this time?”

Joyce watched as Hopper's grip on the back of the couch tightened so hard his knuckles turned white. Her lip finding its way between her teeth as she contemplated lying to him. “Got a B in calculus…” She settled for the truth since he’d spot her bullshit anyway.

Hopper flexed his jaw. Any parent should be over the moon if their child brought home a B, but he knew Joyce’s piece of shit father expected nothing but the best and held her to unfair standards. She was already taking college classes and was far more advanced than any other student at Hawkins High, but that wasn’t enough for the daughter he expected to get a free ride from when she landed a good job with a nice salary. “How bad is it?” Hopper finally asked once he started to calm down.

Silently she lifted her shirt to expose the nasty bruise across her ribs and closed her eyes to avoid seeing his reaction. The sadness she’d find in his features was sure to make her feel even worse about it.

“Jesus.” He whispered, reaching out to gently touch around the damaged skin. “A belt?”

Joyce swallowed and gave him a nod.

“Come here.” Without a fight, Joyce allowed him to carefully pull her into his lap where she rest her head against his shoulder and forced back the tears she could feel threatening to fall. There was no denying she was as tough as they came and very rarely allowed anyone to see her this vulnerable, but she had a breaking point and Hopper was the only person she’d ever trust to see her this way. “It’s ok”. He soothed when he felt her small body tremble against him.

Once the sun started setting and the room grew dim, Joyce sniffed and lifted her head to meet his eyes. "Thank you." Her voice came out a broken sob and the tears she'd fought so hard to hold back the past twenty minutes chose then to fall after thinking she had herself under control. "For loving me, for everything. You deserve so much better than this disaster."

Hopper didn't hesitate to cup her cheek and wipe away her tears with his thumb as he listened, his chest tightening the more upset he got watching her break. "There's nothing in this world I’ve wanted more than you. Joyce, you’re the smartest, most kind person I've ever met and ill never understand how no one else can see that. You’re too good for this world and everyone else can go to hell for all I care."

Joyce anticipated the moment Hopper leaned forward, knowing he was going to kiss her forehead like he always did and without a second thought she reached out to grab his jaw and redirected the motion to her lips instead. He tensed at first, shocked by the gesture, but quickly relaxed and kissed her back. It was slow, full of love and compassion as they poured fifteen years of feelings into one another and Hopper found himself getting extremely overwhelmed the longer his mouth moved with hers. He parted from her lips slightly to take in a shuddering breath and kissed her again real quick before resting his forehead against hers.

Something wet touched Joyce's hand and that’s when she noticed he was crying. "What’s wrong?" She asked worried, sitting back enough to meet his watery blue eyes with her own.

"Nothing." He said with a nervous laugh, reaching up to wipe his face, feeling a little embarrassed. "I just...It's a lot." He didn’t know how to explain his body finding the only outlet to the explosion of emotions he was currently feeling.

Joyce placed a hand on his knee and squeezed gently. “Was it ok?”

“That has to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever asked me.” He teased with a chuckle, pulling her back to his chest so she was resting against him like before. Then it dawned on him what she may have meant by her question. He hadn’t thought about the fact she’d never kissed someone, at least not to his knowledge. Considering her daily struggle she chose to avoid most people and he doubted she would lie to him if she had been physical in some way with someone else. “Hey, look at me.” He said gently, moving his chin from the top of her head. “It was perfect, you’re perfect.”

Joyce smiled and placed a kiss to his collar bone. She honestly had no idea what she was doing. She’d spent the last six years trying to get him to date other girls and make him stop seeing the two of them as ever being more than friends, and here she was kissing him and sending mixed signals. A part of her didn’t think it mattered since they could do whatever they wanted here, but the other part worried about what he might try once they left.

Hopper shivered a little when her lips made contact with his skin and subconsciously pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you staying here tonight?”

She leaned into his touch with a nod. “Don’t see the point in going back home.”

“Lets pull out the bed then before it gets too dark.” Reluctantly he pushed her to stand and went to grab a sheet from the shelf on the opposite wall. This wasn’t a new thing for them so they made sure to keep freshly washed blankets and sheets around for nights like these.

As Joyce started removing cushions from the couch, Hopper unfolded the bed and tossed the old sheets to the floor so they could add the new ones. When they finished, Hopper toed off his shoes and unbuttoned his flannel as he watched Joyce dig through her over night bag and that’s when he saw her camera.

“Will you?” She asked, holding out her hand.

Hopper frowned and dropped his shirt, taking the camera from her. He’d been the eye behind the lens for every one of these photos and it still never settled well with him. So when she lifted her shirt, exposing the mark her father left, he quickly snapped the photo and gave her the camera back like it wasn’t a big deal.

The tree house walls were covered in hundreds of photos with the two of them, happy and smiling throughout the years. Hopper had even stolen one some time ago to keep in his wallet without her knowledge. But the little black box that was kept behind the couch was just another reminder of the nightmares that hid behind the smiles and once the Polaroid was added, he never wanted to see it again.

Joyce had her reasons for keeping them and he stopped questioning her about it years ago, but he hoped one day soon would be the last one he’d ever have to take.

“Are you technically cheating on your girlfriend by staying here with me?” Joyce jokingly asked as she pulled on a pair of shorts and removed her bra.

Stirred from his thoughts, Hopper rolled his eyes and stepped out of his jeans. “I’ve shared a bed with you for years.” In just an undershirt and boxers, he crawled across the bed where she was still standing beside it and placed a hand on her hip. “And does it really even count if I don’t like her to start with?”

Joyce smiled and pushed on his forehead. “There’s no way you don’t like her just a little. I’ve seen you practically suck her face off.”

Hopper pinched her uninjured side, making her squeal. “Only because you said people would call me a queer if I had a girlfriend and didn’t touch her.”

Joyce swatted his hand away when he tried to tickle her again. “The most popular boy in school isn’t supposed to ignore girls drooling over him unless somethings wrong.”

“But there is something wrong.” He said with a grin, dodging her swat.

“And what might that be?” She asked, linking their fingers together in an attempt to stop his tickle assault.

“I’m in love with you, not her.” He smiled, sitting up on his knees to wrap his free hand around the back of her neck and pull her into a kiss. To his surprise she didn’t push him away like he anticipated, but instead made him lay back and crawled into his lap, straddling his thighs.

Unable to hold back his excitement, he moaned and wrapped his arms around her tiny frame as she explored his mouth a little sloppy and inexperienced. This time she was more eager, less hesitate, and it didn’t take long for her to find a rhythm that made a heat stir in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m sorry if I’m bad at this.” Joyce grinned shyly when they broke apart, hiding her face against his chest.

Hopper shook his head. “You’re not, trust me.” A blush burned the tips of his ears and his fingers curled into her hip. “But, I think we should stop.” He’d purposely been keeping her at a distance so she wouldn’t feel his obvious erection and found himself holding on by a thread, it taking every bit of will power to not let things go further.

“You’re right…” With a sigh and one last nip at his lip, she moved to lay down.

Hopper growled when she bit him. “How are you a goddamn tease already?” He joked, pulling the blanket over them as she snuggled into his side, resting her head on his arm.

“I’ve read enough romance novels to know a thing or two.” She said with a wink.

Hopper smiled, running a hand down her arm. "I love you."

She intercepted him when he reached her wrist and pulled his hand into hers. "I Love you too." Those words weren't new between them, but she thought that maybe after tonight they meant a little more now than they had before.

Follow the link below to Ao3 for the rest of the story!

[stileshale]

What are your thoughts on teen wolf? especially writing wise? I have stopped watching regularly around 3b and I wasn't too convinced by what I've seen here on tumblr about the rest of the episodes, in particular 6x10...

i will always have a special place in my heart for the characters i love that the show gave me. i still blog about teen wolf, i write fic, and i enjoyed s1-3a. saying that, i don’t particular enjoy what the show became, or look back on the experience i had as a fan with much nostalgia (i think we were v much used and abused as a fandom online, for sure). i love my part of fandom, though.

short answer about the writing... it was terrible because

1) there was a complete lack of planning and follow through

2) we love this idea/actor/theme for 30 seconds but oops now we don’t

3) they completely misused their social media as a way to a) explain away/correct plot holes in their own writing and b) encourage viewers to watch a show they implied to be many things that it turned out to... not be any of

long answer

as a disclaimer here, i watch a lot of tv, i watch stuff on cbs, abc, fox, cw, bbc, tbs, p much something from every network, and i’ve seen the highs and lows of writing through comedy, drama, medical, supernatural, and everything inbetween. i’m not a professional writer, i am only a consumer. i have, however, over the nearly 20 years of watching shows as a fangirl (where i’ve been into something i follow religiously, and then later became involved in online forums) honed my tastes and opinions. on average i watch 15 shows a week, last year it would have been 21 around february time, but i’ve cut six shows including 3 i started this fall and dropped because of writing issues similar to that of teen wolf, or it just got terrible, either way). i have totally tried to rationalise what teen wolf did and i just... can’t. 

to elongate

1. the whole “let’s throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” approach is terrible. the best thing about breaking bad was that everything was planned to the very minute details. lost only picked up again when they were given an end date and suddenly had to come up with a plausible endgame. every season teen wolf has started off with a new plan, a new theme, and then it’s fallen apart because they’ve quite clearly changed their minds about something and either dropped it completely (they’re especially bad about dropping characters and never speaking of them again, or even acknowledging they were there in the first place), or made up new stuff to fit their new plan (scott is the true alpha so he can move mountain ash, kate is a werejaguar

not to mention they’ve joked about not being able to keep up with their own timelines, unsure how old any of the characters are, forgetting the characters have school/work/should be in prison, introducing siblings, changing history, forgetting actual canon...

2. kinda leads on from 1. where they would introduce an idea or a character and then totally lose interest and instead of trying hard to give them depth or something to do or going somewhere with the concept, they’d just drop it? see, parrish as a hellhound, kira as a kitsune, even way back when with stiles as a spark, a cool idea for thirty seconds to fit in with the plot and then... whoops it never happened, what are you talking about there was never a whole season about japanese culture, that season was about stiles conquering his internal battle with his own psyche telling him he’s never going to be good enough because we always make his dad out to be a total dick to him (surprise, his dad’s called noah, which we know you’ll hate because we dragged it out like some sort of magical plot twist, and also HIS dad is a dick so it’s okay he’s always told stiles he’d rather have had scott as a son) WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT FOXES FOR? THERE WAS NO FOX. THERE WAS NO TREE TRUNK. BANSHEES? THE FUCK? LYDIA JUST SCREAMS EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE AND SOMETIMES HAS MAGIC POWERS. but then doesn’t. pfft it doesn’t actually matter.

 or worse conveniently fix it/disappear it. it was tiring to watch and be confused and wonder why they were treating you like an idiot as a viewer. like the show is on mtv sure, but at least awkward stuck to a clear timeline. awkward covered where characters vanished to. we never actually even got clarification on basics like... why did deaton never want to help derek in season one... even though he was the hale emissary? what did emissaries have to do with anything by the next episode as nothing ever happened with that whole theme... why did stiles have a magic spark... where did cora go... how did she come back and how did the alphas find her before derek... why did the alphas originally start a war with derek, kill off his pack but then decide they didn’t want derek and just wanted scott... why did scott let deucalion walk off into the sunset? WHY IS PETER STILL NOT IN PRISON FOR THE MURDER OF HIS NIECE? these questions are all like three seasons old but that’s all i have and they still bug me. i can’t believe the show has never covered any of these huge issues. it’s lazy. everyone likes consistency, nobody likes writing leaving this big wink like “you don’t really care about this do you???”

again, with the big deaths, the characters they did kill off all had opportunities not to die, they could have had different endings, but each time their death was used to create man pain, probably one of the many reasons i’m not as big on male characters (they always need something to prop them up and make them more heroic and tragic in the long run), and that writing? erica, boyd, allison, was cruel and unnecessary. it did nothing for the show, and it lessened the writing. it actually made it worse when they tried to defend it, because they’d been going on about it for so long before hand as if it was a new and exciting toothpaste they’d all just gotten “now even whiter than before/now with even more death!!!”

the fact they hadn’t planned out a season without stiles (despite knowing dylan was out) and so instead of giving all of the other characters a chance to grow and learn and develop they literally wrote a whole season about stiles (after all of 3b, and from what i can tell most of s4 and s5 was about stiles). every character seemed to be focused on this missing person. the whole season was based around a character that wasn’t even on screen. and all because std fans were promised a big beautiful season of std??? gutted.

3. leading to point three! teasing your internet fanbase with ~thrilling and huge deaths to look forward to all season! using tumblr to answer questions about the plot holes/characters/encourage you to watch for the return of characters and not actually ever going through with it on screen. the teasing. the baiting. the flat out refusal to learn from your own viewership (when more than happy to use their gifs, use their images, their fanfics and their ideas) and then act as if the fanbase are the ungrateful ones. to try and join in with memes and tbt and a bunch of other infuriating actions that made even the actors uncomfortable. the tweets, the writers creating more drama even now, six seasons in, jeff saying “oh yeah if hoechlin had stayed on we’d have tortured derek some more with a fake julia (????? dick) haha i hope the internet doesn’t kill me for that one” as if we’re a bunch of deranged lunatics instead of just fans of a character that deserved better? like he knows what’s up. he’s a grown man. he knows they fucked up, in so many areas, and yet he’s just not willing to learn from it, or acknowledge it, he’s just always said “well if they don’t like it, they shouldn’t watch”... 

i guess we didn’t.

[nomi-dandekar]

Your statement about lydia not giving a fuck about stiles for 5 seasons is incorrect. You don't understand the concept of foreshadowing nor can you understand how to follow the narrative. You basically want Lydia to be with that jackass Jackson who was an asshole to her

“okay so you’re one of those people who cannot follow the narrative of the story and the concept of foreshadowing.” Let’s see. 

3x11 - Lydia kissed Stiles for a panic attack and then proceed to date Aiden and it was stated that “Lydia likes him”. Lydia basically chose to date a guy that killed Boyd over Stiles and she did so for the rest of season 3 (until he was killed because the actor left my I add).

3x15 - I guess you refer to the scene that started the whole “red strings of fate” where Lydia said she’s guilty for getting him into trouble and it’s doubting her powers. What a dedication of love. Too bad she continues messing around with big bad wolf over there. 

season 4 Lydia being “jealous” is funny to me because literally the only confirmation of that is supposely “random stares” but completely ignore Lydia and the fact she said she doesn’t date teenage boys OR that she was busy about Jordan the whole time, but sure. And also how character regressive is that for Lydia, but not that character matters to yall. And since you guys claim Will Wallace, he said Lydia was never jealous. 

“season 5 she literally smiled through her pain to tell stiles everything was fine” - because that’s what she does? tell her friends she’s fine when she isn’t. Like she has done 1000 times with Scott? 

5x16 -  meaning the most fan servise scene of all times??? a scene that only made stydias happy even thought it ignored canon? and the fact Stiles did absolutely nothing while the other members almost die and he somehow managed to get the whole claim? not that is weird with tw and the fact their kiss his ass 24/7 and ignore Scott’s attempts to save his pack. 

Listen. Sty*dia had the possibility to be good following a rightful narrative that didn’t involve a guy obssesed with his childhood crush. No only is the idea of Sty*dia absolutelly weird and male-driven that gives the illusion a man can beg, idiolize and wait as long as he can because the girl will eventually fall for him at the end. That’s probably the most boring romantive narrative but okay I guess. 

The fandom itself invalidate Lydia’s wishes and links everything as romantic while also ignoring her interactions with Scott that are just as valid (I mean, she kissed him too does that mean she loves him??) but they would rather romantizice how Stiles saw Lydia on s1-2. But that’s another story. You want me to talk about canon? As I have said before if Jeff wanted to make Stdia romantic it would have been more belivable after the “kiss” on 3x11 but he decided to drop it. After the kiss Lydia and Aiden became official and Stiles never talked about the kiss again which is odd if we mention Stiles’ obssesive behavior. If anything after the kiss i believe a friendship was formed. Sty*dia grow up - he went from idiolizing her to actually see her as a real human being. The thing is just as Sty*dia grow up so did Scott+Lydia so the idea that Stiles is merely the only person to go crazy over Lydia is not accurate. 

The thing is, it wasn’t only on late 3A and 3B that they became real friends instated of just a guy pinning after a girl. On 3A Stiles decided he was going to move on. Everything a couple needs to experience to be canon already happened with them. He told her he loved her, he saved her multiple times, they have been in relationships, they kissed, but, still, Lydia choose someone else but Stiles to be romantically involved. If you want to continue with canon, on 3B where Lydia was worried about Stiles well being and also experiencing her strong banshee powers - and still, commited in a relationship. Stiles found confort in another girl, a girl he fought for. A girl that wake him up from the kitsune. A girl he cared for even after she broke up with him, and send texts too. A girl he was scare of telling the truth about his heritage in case he would lose her (actually canon). After everything, after he decided that he wouldn’t be leaving her alone that action alone completely changed Stiles character that is often annoying and rude to vulnerability and compassion for someone who obviously didn’t experience it since her childhood. Season 4 Stiles was somehow less annoying when he isn’t pinning for a girl. That just shows that his feeings for Lydia changed (as stated for Scott in her weird conversation with Kira, because what else does Scira, the main couple, needed to do in their last scenes before they ditched Kira? talk about the white boring ship). 

Dylan even said it. He said Stiles is comfortable with just being friends with Lydia, and he will always love Lydia but there’s so much more than just waiting for a love to be reciprocate and he found that with Malia. Say what you want but there was not indication of Sty+dia canon on S4 only if you want to add the typical “Lydia is jealous and she will realize she loves him” because Lydia stealing her friends’ bf is so Lydia s1 that it hurts. In fact, season 4 actually made sty*dia likable because for once their writing wasn’t based on the typical unrecriprocate feelings but solid ground and partnership. While Lydia becomes friends with Malia and Kira, but also developing a supernatural connection with Jordan that was so casually dropped this season to push a romantic narrative. 

There’s so many reasons why Sty*dia doesn’t make sense at this point on time (unless they continue with the forced fanservice). If they make it canon 3 seasons ago, I would still have believe it. But not now, because Malia existed. Because she changed every dynamic. She made Stiles care and show a side of him he almost never shows. Stiles watched Lydia chose guys over him (and it’s okay because Lydia didn’t need to recriprocate just because he liked her), The whole “slow burn” “foreshawding” whatever you want to call it thing is bullshit because the fans keep ignoring Lydia’s wishes over and over and focusing on just one side of the ship and they think time determinates something when it doesn’t. Malia is in love with Stiles (and I do believe he loved her too) and Lydia Martin is not the same girl she used to be on season one that made out with Scott (her best friend’s boyfriend).

Now going to the current story line, you can’t even deny because it would make you look dumb that Sty*dia isn’t fan service for the last season, you just can’t. Casually since they knew they fave white boy (aka Dylan) was going to leave they needed to gain their ratings so you want to tell me they wasted 3 seasons and a half building romantic Stalia and possible Jordan+Lydia  to have such a terrible writing that didn’t even made sense in the canon world? Since you love “canon” so much explain to me how Stiles’ reaction towards Malia on 5B made ANY SENSE, but the fact they just wanted to throw that away as fast as possible to built whatever they are trying to do here. Let’s not ignore the obvious here, erasing everyones memory was a perfect scenario to just don’t bring Stalia in the picture because it makes it easier to just put Lydia with Stiles without making it less obvious that she did a bitchy move that only season 1 Lydia would ever made. 

Let’s not ignore that Lydia’s reactions to everything that is happening with Stiles is a HUGE character regression. Lydia would’ve find a way to bring Stiles back while also protecting her friends because what they are doing now (actually doing shit instated of sitting in a bed crying) is dangerous. To this point, Malia and Scott are the ones actually doing something. Hell, they even brough Theo back. Where’s Lydia from s5 that even when she couldn’t move she fought for her friends? If it was Malia ya’ll be screaming “Let her be independent!” but you only scream canon when it suits you. 

Lydia’s relationships were also bring to the side and ignored canon once again to fullfill the sad love narrative with ur faves. You want to make me believe Malia, Stilinski and Scott didn’t remember Stiles but Lydia did out of the power of her heart? Her relationship with the pack is broken because all she does is cry over a guy. And we all know actual Lydia knows better. They throw her canon (again) connection with Jordan because Sty*dias would be mad with such interaction, when also the only person who could prevent Jordan for going insane is Lydia’s banshee? But surprise, they suddenly can’t remember. 

You want to cry about canon but after s5 you would think Lydia would be stronger instated of crying her eyes out for a missing kid while the pack does all the work. Less throw all the traumatic experiences Lydia had to face in the past. Season 6 fucks with canon, not even over analized scenes to twist romantic feelings would change that. They needed to eliminate Lydia’s other relationships to make the audience believe her intense feelings for Stiles didn’t happen this season. 

LASTLY, “You basically want Lydia to be with that jackass Jackson who was an asshole to her” TELL ME WHERE I SAID THAT. Because as far as I am concern I didn’t state any particular liking or appreciation towards that ship. Please don’t tell me you twist canon in reality too. I couldn’t give a fuck about Jackson, I only stated the word “ironic” which probably means you need a dictionary.