#Aubrey dentist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sixpossumsinatrenchcoat · 2 years ago

Text

game over

One year after the worst end, Kel and Aubrey confront their regrets. (Spoilers for abandon end/knife end.)

Kel used to fall asleep so easily. But that hasn’t been true in a long time.

After lying awake for a lifetime, he can feel a familiar weight settle onto the edge of his bed. He stretches an arm out invitingly. The knot in his stomach loosens a little as Sunny slides in beside him.

Kel keeps his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to see the bloody mess of Sunny’s chest. He just wraps his arm around Sunny’s clammy shoulder and pulls him in closer. When he starts twisting his fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, Sunny lets out a contented little hum, like he used to when they were kids.

Everyone always spoiled Sunny. Patting his head, scratching his back. Wrapping him up in your favorite sweater after he forgot his. It probably wasn’t good for him, but it just felt so nice. Probably ‘cause everything about Sunny was so painfully honest. His emotions, especially. Sunny couldn't fake a reaction if he tried. When he smiled, it was true to the bone. Like looking directly at the sun.

Kel can feel cold fingers tracing the line of his collar.

“I wouldn't have touched you like this,” Sunny reminds him.

“I know.”

“Or I already would have.”

“Yeah.”

“I liked when you touched me, though. I really liked being touched.”

Kel huffs a laugh. “Pfft. Yeah. You were always kind of a brat.”

He still doesn’t look, but he can hear the scowl in Sunny’s voice. “It's not nice to speak ill of the dead.”

“Hah. Yeah. I always thought that was kinda dumb, though. I mean... It’s not like they’re gonna mind. Isn’t it meaner to shit-talk someone who might actually hear you?”

“Point,” Sunny concedes, pushing up on one elbow.

Kel can’t resist. He opens his eyes in time to see Sunny grin, just the briefest flash of teeth. Sunny’s eyes are empty holes.

###

Eventually, Kel falls asleep.

It’s one of those weird dreams, where Sunny is a little kid for some reason. But at least this one isn’t full of bloody holes.

“Sunny!!” Kel greets him, beaming.

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Haha, yeah, right! What was it again? I don’t really remember this game…”

Baby Sunny rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Why are you here?"

“Huh? Pff… What, am I not on the guest list? Did you have plans today or something?”

“No. But this place isn’t for you. It’s— I think it might be. Bad. For… people like you.” His face hardens. “I think it was bad for Sunny.”

“But I like it here!!! It’s kind of… I dunno. I can’t explain it. But for some reason, it… sort of feels like Sunny? Does that make sense?”

“No,” Baby Sunny says flatly. But there’s a familiar glint in his eye. Sunny used to look like that when he was laughing at you, not with you. “All the more reason to stay away. Sunny gave up. He lost. You shouldn’t be moping around after some dead kid you only saw for three days out of the last five years.”

“Haha. Y-Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“So you’ll stop coming?”

“Nnn….no?” Kel thinks about it. “No, I’ll probably keep coming. Sorry.”

“Ugh. You people are all the same. But, fine. If you’re going to be like that, I’ll try to find his stupid ghost.”

“Wh– Huh?? But—isn’t that what you’re supposed to be?”

Baby Sunny gives him a scathing look. “Why would Sunny’s ghost be twelve?”

“….Because it’s a dream? Or it’s… when my fondest memories are from, or something?”

“Oh, right, because it’s all about you,” rolling his eyes. “Be right back.”

Huh. This is… sort of a weird dream, actually. When you stop to think about it.

Kel is vaguely aware that dreams are supposed to mean a bunch of different things. Like, if you dream about your teeth falling out, it means you’re losing control of your life, or… need to find a new dentist, or whatever. And if you dream about finding a big pot of leprechaun gold, maybe you’re about to find a big pot of leprechaun gold?

So maybe he should, like, talk to someone. A fortune-teller, or a therapist or something. He could at least look it up online. What does it mean if you dream a bunch of weird alter-egos of your dead best friend? Though it might not take a fortune teller to figure that one out. You’re grieving, idiot. You’re all hung up on someone who you’ll never see again, so your stupid lizard brain is filling in the space.

Then the air around him sort of—stutters, and Sunny is standing in front of him.

It’s not baby Sunny this time. Not bleeding-from-the-chest Sunny, either. This one looks almost exactly how he did the last time he was alive, except with all the color drained out of him. He’s as white as a sheet of printer paper.

On the bright side, he also looks a lot less miserable.

The second Sunny spots Kel, he lights up. Fingers curled, eyes bright and disbelieving. Then he takes a longer look, and his face falls. “…Kel.”

“S-Sunny?” It comes out as a pathetic little croak.

Sunny shrinks a little more. “You. Look so sad.”

“Haha.” Kel tries for a smile, but it doesn’t fit. He gives up. It’s not like it matters. Too little too late. “Y-Yeah. Um. I guess.”

“Why?”

Kel winces. How do you tell a guy, Well, buddy, it’s ~mostly~ ‘cause you kinda ruined my life. A little. Or a lot, maybe. How do you say, Those three days I spent with you were the happiest I’d been in four years. I’m probably not as happy as you think, actually. It just seemed that way ‘cause you only saw me when I was with you. “Uh…”

“Oh,” Sunny says quietly. “Sorry.”

“O-Oh. Huh. Is that, like, dream stuff? You know what I’m thinking ‘cause we’re in my head?”

“What? No. You’re just obvious.”

Kel stares. Sunny stares back at him.

“...This is weird,” Kel decides. He talks to Sunny a lot, in one way or another. When he’s really tired, sometimes he even gets an answer. But his hallucinations aren’t usually this nice. And none of them have ever sounded so much like… well, Sunny. (How he imagines that Sunny would have sounded, anyway, if Sunny had opened his mouth even once after opening that door. The last time Kel actually heard Sunny’s voice, they were in middle school.) “Why are you… Or. I mean. You sound sort of… different? When I see you, you… don't usually sound like this.”

Sunny’s eyes widen. “You’re. You—see me?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You don’t mean— Do you mean Omori?”

“Omori,” Kel says, with relief. That’s what it was. “I don’t know why I can never remember that. But, um. No. Not the kid one. The other one.”

“When?”

“At night, mostly? Like, when I can’t sleep and stuff. So, uh. I guess, like, most nights?”

“But that’s not me,” Sunny says urgently. “That’s just something you made up.” His forehead scrunches. “...Is he mean?”

“Uh.” Kel doesn’t know how to answer that. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

Sunny’s mouth tightens. “Well. He— What you’re seeing. You know it’s not me.”

Uhhh… “Well, yeah. ‘Cause you’re… you know.” Dead. “But it’s the same for you, right? It’s just… all the different ways I saw you, or whatever. Memory soup.”

“No.”

“N-No?”

“No. But it’s fine. I just.” Sunny hesitates. “Don’t want you to… hurt yourself. Especially not using me.”

“Haha,” Kel says unhappily. “Well. I, uh. Don’t really need to go out of my way for that, bud.”

Sunny’s head tilts. He doesn’t get it.

“Because. You know.” But Sunny just keeps staring, like he genuinely doesn’t. Kel takes a second to remind himself that Sunny is dead, and can’t get his feelings hurt. “Because, um. You’re the one who hurt me?”

Sunny’s face crumples. Kel can feel it in his marrow, a leaden sort of ache. Sunny couldn’t fake a reaction if he tried. When he cried, it wasn’t ‘cause he wanted something, or was trying to make you feel bad or whatever. It was just because he felt sad.

...It’s weird. There’s no light in this Sunny, no breath or blood. But he still feels so real. True, in a way that the real Sunny felt. Kel’s stupid waking nightmares never make him feel like this.

Read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46429294/chapters/116900185

#omori fanfic #omori spoilers #bad end #knife end #grief #processing #omori suntan #omori sunkel #omori photobomb #angst #hurt/comfort #recovery

61 notes · View notes

snicklefrit · 2 years ago

Text

My thoughts on both

Movie ending: It does feel good to see both characters get their happy ending. Audrey finally escapes her cycle of abuse and finds someone who loves her right. People point out that movie version of Seymour is less complicit in the deaths of the dentist and Mr Mushnik so he also deserves redemption. They, despite the odds, make it out of skid row.

Original ending: OG stage ending. Audrey’s rendition of “Somewhere that’s green” before dying is a better full circle ending than “Suddenly Seymour.” Seymour arguably gets his just dessert. The imagery of Audrey II bursting through New York City and then the screen is awesome and hilarious. Nobody makes it out of skid row.

#little shop of horrors #poll #musical #my stuff #my poll #Aubrey 2 #somewhere that’s green #spoilers #polls #preference poll

8 notes · View notes

charismatic-cannibal · 1 year ago

Note

Genuine Question: do you know anyone you'd feed to a giant carnivorous plant that so happens to be named "Aubrey ||"?

Well there’s this dentist I’ve seen hanging around that gives me bad vibes…..

……………..

I mean No

#answering things

4 notes · View notes

keyrousse · 2 years ago

Text

14 Questions Tag Game

I was tagged by @poetikat, thank you very much :)

Nickname: online it's Key. I don't think I have a nickname IRL (people I know call me by the diminutive of my first name, which won't be revealed here :) ).

Sign: Leo. (I have no idea what that 'sun, moon, rising' means)

Height: 5'7 / 170 cm

Last thing I googled: either a phrase to check the translation to English, or... I don't remember :)

Song stuck in my head: none at the moment, thank goodness.

Amount of Sleep: usually around 7-8 hours, unless my cats decide otherwise.

Dream Job: I became a dentist because I had no idea what my dream job was when I was to make the decision of what to learn at uni, and thankfully I like my job. I still have no idea what my dream job is. (edit: dentistry was suggested by my family, as a half-joke. I was like, "okay!" and just went with it. I don't regret it.)

Wearing: jeans, a colourful t-shirt, and underwear. I'm at home now, so no socks.

Movies/Books/Media that Summarize You: oh jeez. I mean, I have a Quen Sign tattoo, so The Witcher is good, but other than that? Mind empty. I like to chill, so of games, there's Cities: Skylines right now, The Settlers and so on. I have no idea what other media would be a representation of me.

Favorite Song:

youtube

Instrument: unfortunately, none. I'd love to play a guitar, but I need my fingers intact at work. I'd say I love playing on other people's nerves, but it's a cheap joke and it's never been true for me. :)

Aesthetic: blue. Simple. Casual. Comfy. Could say boring, but I don't care :)

Favorite Author: back when I was still reading books... That was so long ago I'm actually sure :( I like the adaptations of some of Neil Gaiman's works. I was obsessed with Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin series, but I've never actually finished it. Frederick Forsyth's "Negotiator" was one of my fav books, but that's mostly because sassy, capable and traumatised is apparently my type of fav character.

Random Fun Fact: my English in my fics is usually better than here, because I tend to have a beta reader ;)

#about me

3 notes · View notes

lboogie1906 · 27 days ago

Text

Dr. Arnold Bennet Donawa (December 10, 1895 - January 16, 1966) was born in Port of Spain, Trinidad to Aubrey Donawa and Ida C. (Brown) Donawa, he had 4 brothers and 5 sisters. He earned his DDS from Howard University. He worked at the Royal College of Dental Surgeons in Toronto as well as the Fosythe Clinic in Boston before returning to Howard as the first dean of its reorganized College of Dentistry. He resigned to start a private oral surgery practice in Harlem.

He joined the Communist Party in New York City for two years following the Italian invasion of Ethiopia, he coordinated the collection and shipment of medical supplies, becoming an officer of United Aid for Ethiopia. With Ethiopia’s defeat and the rise of Generalissimo Francisco Franco and his fascist followers in Spain who challenged the fledgling Spanish Republic, he shifted his efforts to the Aid Spain campaign. He responded to the American Medical Bureau’s call for volunteers to serve in the Spanish Civil War. He joined the volunteers. He set sail for Spain the following day.

He arrived in Spain and was wounded on the same day during a fascist aerial bombing of the town of Port Bou. He was assigned to the American hospital at Villa Paz as Head of Oral Surgery. He was featured in mainstream, African American, and communist newspapers and journals. He returned to the US. He continued to campaign for the Spanish Republic.

Lincoln Brigadiers, who fought in Spain for the Spanish Republic, fondly recalled his generosity to fellow veterans on their return from Spain. He remained politically active, gaining notice for leading a group of African American dentists protesting anti-Semitic dental school quotas. He married Regma Ultmann (1947-63). He retired from his practice in Harlem and returned to Trinidad, where he died in obscurity.

He was an important leader among African American dentists and one of the few African Americans in the 1930s to cross racial lines to become a symbol to all opponents of fascism. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #alphaphialpha

0 notes

drethelin · 1 year ago

Text

Aubrey Plaza should play the dentist in a little shop of horrors remake

Aubrey Plaza as Lenny Busker | Legion s01e06

140 notes · View notes

cliveguy · 5 years ago

Text

chris evans as the dentist literally someone put me out of my misery

#ok scarlet johansen as aubrey we KNOW she has no range and will suck #but can we talk abt chris evans' lack of range.....can we talk abt how hes gonna be sexy and not sleazy.....#ppl are gonna ship seymour and the dentist and when that happens im gonna go live in the woods forever #um.txt

2 notes · View notes

hannatsunari · 2 years ago

Text

Red Valley headcanons!!

Because I am very happy today

1- Warren is a cold shower type, Gordon is a hot shower, Aubrey take showers with boiling water, Bryony uses ice (Her and Warren's shower were always off), Clive knows no other option besides nice warm water and scented soap

2- Warren, Gordon and Aubrey really like sweet things, every coffee they have together has way too much sugar, Clive likes sour stuff, Bryony honestly dont care

3- Aubrey really needs a dentist. And some vitamins.

4- Gordon had braces in high school

5- During the first months living in the van, Aubrey couldn't rest for very long since she was always parnoid she would be found out, but now she spends most of her day sleeping

6- Also Aubrey is as pathetic as Warren and Gordon, she just have to pretend she isn't because of the field she pursued (this comes from a place of affection)

7- Gordon had a girlfriend when he was a young teenager, hated it and only had his next relationship (with a dude) almost ten years afterwards

8- Warren got a copy of Pus Crank from a friend when he was younger, he never listened to it because it looked terrible (He lost it after a while and forgot they existed)

9- Aubrey have 2 siblings, she is the middle child, Warren is the younger between he and Laura, Clive has a sister and is the older brother, Bryony has no siblings, Gordon also have no siblings but he has way too much cousins.

10- Gordon tried cooking Brazilian food once (especifically, he tried to make coxinhas) but he failed so badly and now nobody wants to try anything Brazillian anymore

10²- Clive managed to get some good coxinhas eventualy (He lost a bet) and de-traumatized the rest of the crew

10³- Warren thought the coxinhas were ok, but he didn't like how it had "too much flavor", he was the only one

11- Warren and Gordon can't cook, Aubrey can cook but she doesn't like to, Clive also can't cook but if he tried it he would be very good at it, Bryony cooks very well

12- Warren has very cold hands, Gordon hates it, Warren knows this so he is always putting his hands under Gordon's warm, nice, not cold, scarf

13- Clive is a surprisingly okay-ish father???

14- Warren likes fictional podcast since he was young, he tried making one using a very bad mic and the editing skills of a 16yo but it didn't go very well and he droped it

15- Bryony can't sing and she is very ashamed of that for some reason

#red valley #red valley pod #red valley podcast

18 notes · View notes

omosntn · 2 years ago

Text

Brothers (OMORI Fanfic)

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Characters: Kel (OMORI), Hero (OMORI), Hero and Kel’s Mother (OMORI), Hero and Kel’s Father (OMORI), Hero and Kel’s Parents (OMORI)

Additional Tags: Angst

Summary: Kel tries to comfort Hero after Mari’s death.

Alternatively, it can be read here! (Or under the cut)

Kel cracked the door open ever so slightly, the familiar routine of floorboards creaking. He leaned into his front foot to peer into the room’s darkness.

“Hero?” he called into the darkness before opening the door just enough to slide himself through the crack. He gently pushed the door shut, then gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness that now enveloped him. There, he saw the all too familiar form in front of him; a bundle of blankets upon the bed adjacent from his, stirring from the sudden light that leaked into the room.

He called out again, “Hero? Aren’t you going to brush your teeth? It’d be really awful to get a cavity… been there, done that.” he joked as he rubbed his cheek at the unpleasant memory of a numb and swollen cheek, a well needed visit to the dentist after eating too much Halloween candy one year.

But Hero didn’t respond. At this point, Kel knew that it was too much to expect a response from his brother, but it didn’t stop him from wishing for one. He wished for something, anything from his brother he could spin a conversation out of. It had been months since he had seen the normal Hero; the Hero that would jokingly scold him when he told him about the daily trouble he would find himself in at school or the Hero that would chuckle at what stupid argument Aubrey and him had got into that day. But the normal Hero was gone. He died when Mari did.

He maneuvered his way around the piles of clothes and other items that littered the floor of their shared room, making a stop along the way to turn on the lamp on his nightstand to make the journey to Hero’s bedside a lot easier for himself. Hero was the one who had always made sure the floor of their room was spick-and-span, clothes neatly tucked away in their proper drawers and everything was put away on the right shelves or in the right place, but when the meager task was left to Kel, this was the result.

He licked his dry, cracked lips, and placed one hand on top of the blanket lump, giving it a little shake as he spoke. “Everyone misses you, y’know?” He started. “Everyday, Aubrey asks me how you are. I haven’t seen Basil or Sunny around recently, but you know they’re probably thinking about you too.”

Not a single reaction. So Kel continued. “We all want you to get better. And…” The words escaped his lips before he could catch them. “If Mari were alive, I don’t think she would want to see you all sad like this, either. I’m sure if she were here, she would scold you for being all down in the dumps like this-”

“Shut up, Kel.” Hero broke his silence, his voice demanding and stern. Kel’s stomach dropped. That was the first time in his life Hero had ever told him to shut up.

“But I was just trying to help-“

“No Kel,” Hero threw his blankets off of himself and swung his legs over the bed, standing up to meet Kel’s gaze with his own. The older brother that was once taller than him was now the same height as him. In the gentle lamp light, the bags underneath Hero’s eyes were more than noticeable. They sunk his face in, aging him older than he actually was. He looked tired, his eyes red from his overused tear ducts. Kel pretended not to notice the sobs and sniffles he heard before he fell asleep for the night, but it was hard to forget how each sniffle was like a tiny needle pricking his heart. He wished he could do more for his brother. “Every single day, you come into our room and tell me about how everyone misses me, how everyone wants me to come back…”

“Do you think saying all of this helps me?!“ he shouted, “Do you think this brings Mari back to us?!”

Kel shrunk in on himself. He noticed how the tears in Hero’s eyes threatened to spill over. “I know it doesn’t-“

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!” Hero screamed, his voice cracking. Tears streamed down his face as he cried, “YOU WERE NEVER AS CLOSE TO MARI AS THE REST OF US WERE!”

Kel’s mind blanked at what he wanted to say when those words left Hero’s mouth. It felt as if something in his heart had snapped. Maybe Hero was right. Maybe Kel wasn’t as attached to Mari as Aubrey or Basil. Kel wasn’t dating Mari like Hero was, nor was he her little brother like Sunny.

Kel was always just there.

He tried to laugh off the words as if he were just told a funny joke. He wanted to show Hero that he was bigger than the words he spat at him, that he understood that they were only coming from a place of hurt. But the smile on Kel’s face betrayed him, being the first to crumble before the tears clouded his vision. Hot wetness poured down his cheeks. The lump in his throat stifled anything he wanted to say; he choked on his words.

Hero continued, “Don’t you ever think before you speak, Kel?! This is what I’ve always hated about you!”

Kel let the full weight of Hero’s words crash into him. He stood there, unsure if he should wipe at his never ending tears. He never thought Hero would say something like this to him. As much as he tried to understand the hurt Hero was enduring, he began to wonder… how long did Hero feel this way towards him? How long had he been holding back these words?

“Hero…” his voice barely came out a whisper. “Calm down, please…” he begged.

Suddenly, the door flung open, the worried faces of their parents in the doorframe. A wave of relief washed over him, hoping they would de-escalate the situation for them.

Without a single word, his parents passed by him and ran straight to Hero, enveloping him in their arms.

Oh.

Kel wiped at his eyes, refusing to look at the loving scene he wasn’t a part of.

Even in his own family, Kel was just there.

He didn’t know how much more he could take. It felt as if a ton of bricks weighed on his chest, crushing him entirely. He could hear the hushed whispers of “it’s okay” as their mother ran her fingers through his hair. There were no fingers in his hair, no parents by his side. Even if both of them were crying, this confirmed Kel’s deepest darkest fear that Hero was always the favourite in their family. He was the reliable one, he was the responsible one. And.. Kel was just Kel. What good qualities did he have? All he did was act before he thought, and hurt people by speaking before he did.

As Kel’s knees buckled from the thoughts spiralling inside his head, Kel felt a pair of arms around him. It was Hero.

Hero’s shoulders shook and his voice trembled. He whispered under his breath over and over again, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Kel.”

Kel sank into his arms, reciprocating the hug.

“It’s okay,” Kel sniffled. “Everything’s gonna be okay...”

#omori game #Omori #omori fanfic #omori kel #omori hero #hero (omori)#kel (omori)

15 notes · View notes

csmistcres · 2 years ago

Text

she had to admit it was nice seeing will halstead talk to her baby girl in that way. he certainly had a spell on her. like most children , aubrey hated doctors, and dentist appointments. one time she literally had no choice but to drag her in the building for a check up. so right now she was happy to see her behave, and comply with the doctor. as a result, the little girl also deserved that toy she begged the previous week as a reward.

“oooh a free goody! the gift shop does have some pretty great stuff, doesn't it?! she asked the girl who nodded excitedly. " elyse quickly examined the head laceration with her eyes for the first time since walking into the room, nodding her head, agreeing with the doctor’s plan. “That is perfect, thank you Will.” she voiced, sending him a grin. She had to admit, while she didn’t know much about the ginger personally, word does travel through the hospital and she knows some of the things that he has done. Even with that knowledge, she didn’t care. in fact , all opinions of him flew out the window.

her hands squeeze Aubrey’s and looked down back at her. “You are doing so good . i am so proud of you." the brunette repeated what Will said earlier, before adding, " when we are done , we will get you some ice cream!” Positive reinforcement was a key whenever a child and a needle was in the same room. aubrey was no exception to that. as will started to stitch up the laceration , she kept the girl distracted.

"you're such a brave kid, y'know that?" he hums coolly to the little one who's crying her eyes out on the stretcher, crouching before her and shining a pen light in her wide, watery eyes. "gotta be the bravest kid who's rolled in here in a long time. maybe even ever."

he's working diligently, taking the time to explain everything he intends to do before he does it. the emergency room is filled with a wide variety of patients, and while the kids are typically left to natalie, he'd like to think he has some experience in the tricky field that is keeping screeching and horrified children at bay.

"hey," he greets when her mother comes rushing into the room with terror written across her features, looking over his shoulder from where he's preparing some stitches with an assuring smile, "don't sweat it. i was just tellin' aubrey here how much of a champ she is," he shoots a wink in the direction of the little one, shifting his focus back towards his hands, "and how the bravest kid in the ED automatically wins one goodie from the gift shop."

pausing, the ginger nods towards elyse, wordlessly drawing her in closer. "it's a nasty lac," he murmurs beneath his breath, not wanting to scare the poor thing further, "but nothin' a few stitches won't fix. doesn't look like she's got a concussion either, but we'll send her for a head CT just to be sure."

#ship: will and elyse #dochalstead #ic : elyse brooks

2 notes · View notes

becaeffinmitchell · 4 years ago

Photo

Fic: what i have (is who i carry home) (1/1)

Summary: Chloe, as it turns out, loves Valentine's Day.

Of course she does. Beca can't say she's surprised in the least.

aka, five Valentine's Days Beca Mitchell's had.

Note: After ten thousand years, I’m free! Or, you know, after eight years, I’m finally posting my first Bechloe fic. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone 🥰 Gif credit goes entirely to @evenstars (thank you so much again!)

Words: 4,954

Read below or on AO3!

--------

i. 2012, Freshman Year, Barden University

There are so many other things Beca would rather be doing.

Like go to the dentist. Actually show up for class. Spend time over dinner with her dad and the step-monster.

Okay, maybe not that last one. Nothing in the world would make her choose that.

But here she is, in that stupid red hoodie, holding that stupid bow and arrow, standing in front of people, refusing to sing that stupid song with Amy.

Later, back at the auditorium where they have Bellas practice, Aubrey's voice is shrill and loud. (As always, Beca thinks.)

"Beca, you really need to be picking up the slack. We need every dollar that we can raise so that we have enough to cover our journey to the semi-finals, and you're dead last in our fundraiser right now."

Amy mutters something under her breath, soft enough for Beca to hear something about — the bus? The Trebles? She doesn't really know. Whatever it is, it's not something she wants to get in the middle of.

"Maybe we can think of something new to do." Beca's tone is dry, and she schools her expression into something neutral on her face, her head tilted slightly, knowing that Aubrey has to know she isn't just talking about the fundraising activity.

It's just — she can feel the potential of these girls, okay? And it's such a shame that they're stuck doing the same three songs, over and over. If she could at least try, show them her arrangements, maybe they'd have a fighting chance.

"I have the pitch pipe, and I say we do this exactly how we have been doing it."

Beca is about to say something snarky, something she knows is going to get under Aubrey's skin, when Chloe's voice rang out beside her.

"It's okay. I'll do it with Beca tomorrow."

She hasn't even noticed Chloe approaching them in the midst of this, so her head whips around so fast at the sound of her voice.

"Don't you have a class during that time, Chloe? That's the whole reason why we couldn't pair you up with Beca." There's something about Aubrey's clipped words that is super careful and controlled, like there's more that she wants to say but isn't.

Chloe shrugs, before turning to Beca with a beaming smile. "It's okay, skipping out on one Russian Lit lecture won't make a difference."

Chloe, as it turns out, loves Valentine's Day.

Of course she does. Beca can't say she's surprised in the least. She thinks she doesn't know anyone who's more enthusiastic about everything and anything.

There's something about Chloe that feels like embers starting at the base of Beca's dead, cold heart, warming it up and turning itself three sizes larger.

It's not a thing she wants to unpack right now; she's not the type to get attached to people, and especially not when she's going to go through with her plan, and leave at the end of the school year. It doesn't matter if her dad helps her or not.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Chloe's voice, melodic as it comes, breaks the silence as they walk towards the south quad. She looks ready to go through the entire residence hall, her angel wings bouncing behind them.

"It's a day corporations literally invented to convince everyone to buy cards and chocolates and flowers at jacked up prices, so..."

Chloe lets out a happy sigh. "Maybe so. But it's also a day to celebrate love! And love is so awesome. I love love. And I'm not just talking about romantic love, though that is nice. You can also celebrate the love from all relationships in your life. Like your best friends, or your parents, or your siblings."

Beca raises an eyebrow, because Chloe is just so goddamn earnest. She tugs at her hoodie. "Let me guess, you and shower guy have a date?"

"Who, Tom?"

"How many shower guys do you have?" There's a beat. "Actually, don't answer that."

So here she is, still in that stupid red hoodie, still holding that stupid bow and arrow, standing in front of people, and singing a duet with Chloe Beale.

The next morning, Kimmy unceremoniously drops a box at the foot of Beca's bed, a loud thud waking her up.

There's a sleeping mask, a whole clip of flash drives, two huge jars of peanut butter, and cans of Red Bull in the box. There's also a card, and her name is written carefully in the middle of an envelope.

Happy Valentine's Day, Beca!!!! I've said this before, and I'll say it forever: I'm SO glad that I met you. I LOVE that you love music like it's the one thing you can't live without. It's something that really resonates with me, too. You make us better. :) :)

xoxo,

Chloe!

Beca drifts off to sleep that night, the music still playing in her headphones. She's wearing that sleeping mask across her eyes.

------------

ii. 2014, Junior Year, Barden University

The thing with Jesse is, he really loves these grand gestures of romance.

Sometimes Beca thinks that that's his favorite part. It's almost like he's in love with the idea of being in a relationship.

Worse still, in love with the idea of her, like she's this perfectly scripted character who exists for him.

Last year for Valentine's Day, Jesse had shown up at her dorm. Well, outside of her window actually, boombox on his shoulder. She'd tried not to wince, her lips pressed together into something resembling a smile (she hopes) to the strains of In Your Eyes, at the ungodly hour of dawn.

It isn't even that she had just gotten to sleep like, two hours before that. Or the very clear and enunciated "fuck off!" that her neighbor gave them, complete with a dramatic slamming of her window. At least she doesn't have to deal with that now, now that they've all moved into the Bellas house, newly renovated.

It was just a lot, right? And maybe she should have been a better girlfriend to anticipate it this year, or at least match some of that. Rise up to his level, or something. She just has a reservation to a fancy Italian restaurant in Midtown, and she made that way in advance. So maybe she gets points for that?

January rolls into February, and she dreads it. Every day is a countdown to The Fourteenth.

Here's the more pressing thing: Chloe seems sad. Not all the time, but Beca catches it occasionally.

She presumes she knows her best friend pretty well by this point, until she's doing things like failing a single class on purpose so that she doesn't graduate. For the second year in a row.

And Beca gets it, at least on an abstract level. If she starts thinking about what comes after graduation — and that's in a year and some — she gets nervous, too. But in no version of her reality does she get so paralyzed with fear, that she would opt to repeat her senior year like it’s groundhog year.

She wishes she could know why, for certain. She can't help if she doesn't know what's going on in Chloe's head, but for the first time, it's Chloe's turn to clam up and switch the subject.

So Beca doesn't push. She hopes it's enough to keep her afloat as she works through whatever it is. She doesn't really know what that entails, but music? Music she can do.

She pours her energy into putting together a really solid mix for Chloe; it's all the songs that remind Beca of her, and their friendship. She picks songs and arranges them and removes them before she puts them back in, because it has to sound right.

Beca feels like the world's biggest dork for giving it to her the morning of Valentine's Day.

Well, second biggest dork, because she intercepts Chloe leaving the gift boxes in the room, for her and Amy.

"Hey, uh. Happy Valentine's Day," she says, handing her the flash drive — one of the many that Chloe has gotten her over the years, like she's her supplier — and hoping she doesn't look as awkward as she feels. "It's not anything like your, like, super thoughtful gifts." She gestures in that general direction. "But you're my best friend, so... here."

She gets pulled into a hug, and Beca can't be sure, but it sounds like Chloe's 'thank you' is strained and she's about to cry.

Beca hopes it's enough.

"So, Jesse gave you just the one earring?"

Beca's back from the dinner. It was... nice? There was a string quartet and Jesse made them play John Legend's All Of Me, and Beca didn't actually die of embarrassment when he started singing along, so she'll chalk that up as a win.

"Yeah, it's like — symbolism, I guess. From the movie." Beca shrugs, chewing on the popcorn she's made that Chloe is currently stealing. She thinks about lightly smacking her hand away, but ends up shifting the bowl so that it's nearer to Chloe.

Does she regret putting Don't You (Forget About Me) in their setlist? Maybe.

Probably not, all things considered, because it worked well together with the other songs, and they did win the finals that year. But it elevated the movie to mythical and legendary status for Jesse, and if he does that arm raising motion one more time during squabbles he wants to get out of? Beca might lose it even harder.

"Is it symbolism or a metaphor? I could never tell the difference."

"I think it was a metaphor in the movie," Beca starts, a thoughtful expression on her face. "But more of a symbol for like, me and Jesse? Oh my god." She presses her free hand to her eyes. "You're such a nerd. Stop making me think deeper about this than I need or want to."

"I just think it's nice," she hears Chloe say.

Beca hums, tone neutral. "It's something, for sure. Wait." She whips her head to face her best friend. "You didn't go out tonight? Ms. 'I Love Love'?"

Chloe chuckles lowly, quietly. "I have all I need here in this house, anyway."

When Beca goes to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a glass of water, she thinks she hears the soft strains of her mix playing from Chloe's room.

------------

iii. 2017, Brooklyn, NY

It's apparently the warmest February in New York on record, but Beca is still fucking freezing.

The incessant chill envelops the air, and she pulls her coat closer to her. She's bundled under layers, but the radiator in their tiny little apartment is, as most things in it, almost completely busted.

Jesus Christ. It's cold.

Amy is convinced she's cold because she's moping, because she's sad about breaking up with Jesse.

Beca knows she isn't, and it's not just the long distance thing.

They'd given it a fair go, and it sucked that he got busier with classes and she tried to solve all of the music industry's problems as an associate producer, working hours trying to make tracks sound... sonically unrotten.

It's not just the long distance thing, because if Beca was honest with herself, it was probably a sign that when he told her that he was thinking of completing his studies in California, her immediate response was that of neutral indifference.

So, she is totally fine.

Beca hears Chloe singing softly before the door even opens, and she can hear it swing open too, and she knows Chloe is about to shrug her coat off —

"Don't bother, it's also cold in here," Beca says, from under the covers.

Then, her eyes track Chloe as she walks to the radiator —

"I checked, it's working. Supposedly."

"Aww." Chloe strides the distance — not that it's that long — and sits down on their shared bed. "You're so cute when you're grumpy."

"Aren't you freezing?" she chooses to deflect the comment, hugging herself petulantly. "Hey, how was your date with that guy at the clinic?"

Chloe hums noncommittally. "We went for coffee and he double-booked me with another girl."

"Dude. What a dick." Beca feels a flash of — annoyance? Chloe deserves the world. Chloe deserves everything she wants. "I'm sorry."

"I know. It's okay though." Chloe smiles at her. It's that smile that Beca catches that she thinks it's just for her, but she's also a logical person who knows that Chloe has that ability to make people feel like they're the most important person in the world. "I've got all I need right here."

Warmth pools at Beca's stomach, and honestly. It's a nice change from the freezing.

It's 2 AM, and they're cuddling, because of course they are; because Chloe is warm; because Chloe is an embrace personified; because... Chloe.

Beca stirs awake, and she feels Chloe's breath tickle at the base of her neck. She shifts, not uncomfortably. Then, Chloe's hand drifts sleepily, and lands somewhere on Beca's hip.

And then.

There is a sudden, startling clarity in Beca's mind, knocking the figurative breath out of her. Her eyes fly open.

She loves Chloe.

And not in the same way where she loves the rest of her found family in the other Bellas.

Oh no, a voice sounds in her mind.

Oh, this is very bad, she thinks.

She can't believe how still she is right now, feeling the entire weight of Chloe's body in contact against her. Feeling her slow, steady breathing against her back. She's not even cold anymore.

Okay. So she loves her best friend. Cool, cool, very cool. That's totally fine. She can handle this.

Chloe's been such a fixture in her life, at every turn; in every note in between the downbeat and upbeat that is her life. Music is in Beca's veins, her whole life, but music flows right through Chloe. She's tucked warmly in the melody, a motif throughout the entire song.

Holy shit, Beca thinks. She's been in love with Chloe for so long, she doesn't even know when it started.

Okay, so. There's a weird spot on the ceiling, right? And Beca just keeps staring at it, because if she closes her eyes, she will feel Chloe's presence so keenly, pressed next to her.

She can't do anything with this knowledge. She can imagine it now, Chloe giving her a comforting hug but tells her, sorry Beca, I love you but not in that way.

It's five whole years of friendship, of Chloe by her side no matter what, and that is the one thing that she's got that she doesn't want to risk, just because she had this stupid revelation.

God. It's so stupid. It'll pass. Right?

------------

iv. 2018, Los Angeles, CA

What is really fucking weird, even in the grand scheme of things, is journalists asking her if she's doing anything for Valentine's Day.

Which, like. First of all, Beca's not stupid, she knows it's a way to suss out her personal-slash-love life.

She's kept that pretty close to her chest for now.

But also, there's literally nothing to tell. She's not being defensive because there's something to hide away. Beca is knee-deep in work all the time, and she goes home to an apartment that feels too big for just herself. It's a big change from the entirely too cramped apartment in Brooklyn.

Sometimes she finds herself missing that very specific part of her life. Not the struggling and being unhappy doing work with no integrity, obviously. But Chloe is now a message and three hours ahead, instead of being a daily fixture in her apartment, and it leaves Beca feeling off-kilter.

But maybe that distance is a good thing, after... you know. Revelations.

Anyway.

Her work ethic doesn't stop rumors. She's linked to every guy available — and some not — every single time one of them likes her Instagram posts. She's pretty sure she's had at least two full relationships, according to the National Enquirer.

Theo gleefully sends her screenshots. She tells him to fuck off.

Chloe Look out, super star! I'm going to be in LA for a good friend's wedding in February!! If you think we're not going to hang, you're sorely mistaken.

Beca is busy, but she sure as hell isn't going to miss Chloe coming to LA.

Beca You have good friends outside of the Bellas? I am shocked, Beale.

Chloe Don't be jealous 😉

She's not. Not because of that, she catches herself thinking, and frowns at herself. Not because of anything, she decides. It's also exactly how she decides she doesn't have feelings for Chloe anymore, because Chloe is happy with Chicago, and Beca has work, and honestly? Best outcome out of every outcome possible.

Still, Beca offers up her apartment for the long-ish weekend that Chloe would be in town. She's not a monster, and Chloe has like, a mountain of student debt.

It's the least she could do.

(Beca thinks back to that first performance at the Citadel, just under a year ago. Thinks of all the nerves she's never felt before, while she's walking to the microphone. She's always had the girls on stage with her, but not this time. Her family would be seated in the front row, supporting her no matter how far she goes.

She gets to bring them up on stage this time, of course, but it's also a temporary balm and she knows it. But that's fine, she can figure that part out.

It's the after that smarts a little.

After the performance, after the event, after she feels that pit, growing and clawing from her stomach when she sees Chloe lock lips with Chicago.

After she walks away with Theo, trying her level best to carry on a conversation as if she's not affected by what she'd just seen; trying not to think of all the what-ifs.

After, on the plane back home, when she directs a small smile at Chloe's direction. If she's happy then she's happy for her.

It's the least she could do.)

Chloe's flight reaches the airport at 7 in the evening, and Beca's right there at LAX, waiting for her to emerge. She can see a couple of people with the big paparazzi cameras, training their lenses at her, but she doesn't care.

There's a flash of red as she sees Chloe running to her, and thankfully she catches her.

"Oh, I've missed you," Chloe says, so earnest and sincere as always; always, and Beca can hear her own heartbeat. She's almost worried that Chloe can too, like a traitorous Tell-Tale Heart.

"Yeah, well, regular sight for sore eyes, that's me." That's good, right? She hits jocularity right in the bullseye with that, as if she can't feel the top of her ears growing hot.

Chloe just laughs; like another kind of warmth. She draws her in again, hand rubbing up and down Beca's back.

Beca thinks she's stupid, for feeling like she's home.

They get to Beca's place, Chloe appraising the place appreciatively as she wheels her luggage in.

"This is already at least fifty times nicer than our little shoebox in Brooklyn," she observes, and Beca shrugs, a little embarrassed.

"I mean, the label's paying for it, and it's like, it's — it's ridiculous." There's a voice at the back of Beca's head repeating, our little shoebox, and she wants it to shut up.

But it is ridiculous. She has so much space, and two rooms; she sleeps in one and the other one is where she works. She's pretty sure she spends more time in the latter than she does the former.

"Anyway, uh, so here's my sort-of office, it's a bit of a mess right now." She waves her hand around (god, why is she using her hands so much) at the room with her equipment and instruments, before stepping to her bedroom door. "And here's the bedroom, which, like. You should take the bed. My couch pulls out and it's really comfortable?"

"Don't be silly," Chloe tells her, looking back at the king-sized bed. "We've slept in way more crowded spaces. This will be perfect."

Beca swallows, hard. Perfect.

Falling back into a routine with Chloe is scarily easy.

She's been here for less than three hours, and Beca's already back to being attuned to her. They put on some music in the background, she listens to Chloe talk so passionately about school and all the stuff she's learning, and Beca is so proud.

She brushes her teeth and changes into her pajamas after Chloe does, exactly like how they used to, and climbs into her bed.

"Oh, shoot, I almost forgot," Chloe's saying, and Beca cocks her head curiously to see what she's forgotten. Her best friend comes back with a box, and hands it over to her.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Bec. Also, I don't think flash drives are in fashion now," she winks. "So your Google Drive storage has been renewed, for all the audio files you need to back up. Don't worry, I didn't look at anything else."

"Wh — oh. Oh, right, Valentine's Day, gifts and all," Beca says, and looks at the box in her hand. "Wait, is this —"

"Chocolate from your favorite place in New York? Yessss," Chloe says, a laugh coloring her tone. She settles back into bed. "Not that you have a shortage of chocolate places here, but Amy reminded me of the time she ate most of the last box after how you were saving your favorite pieces, so I thought I'd bring some here for you."

Beca's heart clenches.

"Thanks, Chlo." She's pretty proud of how unwavering her voice is. "I miss it."

"It's been tough for me too, not having you in my orbit," Chloe says, bumping their shoulders together.

"Yeah? Must be extra tough, because Chicago's not around either." Then she's scrambling. "Not that I'm like, comparing myself to your boyfriend in any way."

She sees Chloe's mouth twist to the side. Beca's eyebrows knit together.

"Chlo?"

"He's not my boyfriend anymore." Chloe's words are slow, measured. Like she's afraid of setting something off.

Beca pauses, as she takes it all in.

"Oh. I mean — Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's been..." Beca sees Chloe's furrowed brows as she thinks. "Three months, almost. Just right before Christmas."

Beca thinks back to Christmas; to the group messages, the online gift cards and food deliveries made in each other's names. Nowhere in her memory exists this piece of information, and she's pretty sure she's not been that shitty of a friend to miss this.

It feels a little bit like being hurt, actually.

"Oookay," she says, licking her lips a little, letting the air out of her slowly. "Okay. Well. Good night, Chloe."

Beca can't fall asleep, and she's pretty sure she knows why. It's been an hour of staring at the ceiling, and she tries to will her stupid mind to shut down for the night.

She thinks Chloe must be asleep by now; her body clock must be three hours —

"Bec?"

Beca pauses for so long that she thinks Chloe might actually think she's asleep.

"Yeah."

She feels Chloe shift. "I want you to ask me."

Beca wants to be obtuse and frustrating; wants to pretend she doesn't know what she's talking about. Instead, the confusion and hurt win out.

She pushes herself up on her elbows, then into a sitting position. It doesn't feel like a conversation that they should have lying down. She waits for Chloe to do the same, before finding her voice and words.

"Why didn't you tell me that you and Chicago broke up?" Dimly lit by the street lights outside, Beca sees her shift in place, and she feels Chloe's hand reaching for hers. "I thought — well. You know. That we tell each other things."

Which is slightly rich, coming from her, she knows. But still.

Chloe sighs, just quietly. "Because I have feelings for someone else."

Beca blinks, taking that in. It's a weird feeling because she's simultaneously crushed and hopeful, and maybe it's the hour, or maybe it's Chloe's hand in hers, but as her eyes sweep across Chloe's face, Beca is emboldened.

She leans in, and time feels like it's slowing down as she closes the distance and presses her lips on Chloe's, roughly and then temperately.

Beca's not the most impulsive person. In the moments, though, when she is, they always leave her wondering if she'd done something stupid — like punching creepy middle-aged a cappella guys, like leaving in the middle of a fight, like pulling the girls up on stage during her solo set.

Like kissing Chloe Beale in her bed.

So she pulls back suddenly, as quickly as she had started it, an apology already stumbling out. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I just assumed, I'm so sor—"

Chloe makes a noise; something that sounds like no, her eyes so startlingly blue even in this light, and Beca freezes. She's sure her brain is working out some sort of rambling apology or excuse, maybe pass it off as a joke somehow?

But Chloe pulls her back in, both thumbs lightly touching Beca's cheekbones as she meets their lips again.

This second kiss is deeper, slower, more connected. It takes her breath away, as her hand curls at the back of Chloe's neck. Chloe tastes like mint and sweetness and sincerity, and a little like hopeless optimism on Beca's part.

A soft gasp escapes, and Chloe pulls away this time.

Beca has a tentative smile on her face, as she takes in a breath heavily; the questions written so plainly on her face.

Chloe's eyes shine.

"It's always been you, Beca."

------------

v. 2020, Los Angeles, CA

Having your anniversary on Valentine's Day is good. And bad.

Mostly good, because it means that Beca has that to help keep herself honest and not forget it, because it's impossible to.

Also, she won't forget, but, you know. Just in case.

Bad, especially last year, because it fell right around the Grammys weekend, and apparently when you're nominated and win pretty much... every single category you're in, that's kind of a big fucking deal.

(It started with Best New Artist, and by the time she's on that stage a fourth time, she literally had no other words and nothing but so much gratitude.)

But yeah, so last year's Valentine's Day-slash-anniversary was overwhelming. People contacting her from all corners, wanting to congratulate her and get some sound bites; the internet pouring both support, and scathing critique on her and her music.

Beca wishes she could say she rose above it, that she was as cool as her publicist thinks her to be.

Instead, Chloe had to deal with her, a stressful human ball of anxiety and nerves. Amazing, wonderful, sweet Chloe, just happy to be around her during these exciting and utterly vulnerable times.

This year, though. This year she's older and wiser.

Hopefully.

This year, the day falls on a Friday, but they've decided to celebrate it the next day and through the weekend instead, because Chloe has a seminar she needs to attend for school, and Theo had packed Beca's entire day with a long meeting.

Key word: had.

At 7 AM, as she wakes up groggily and checks her phone, the invite has disappeared from her calendar, presumably rescheduled for some other time. She vaguely notes the message from Theo about entire teams not being available, and Beca's not going to question the reason why, because she's immediately looking up flights to Ithaca and books the first one out.

(I'm not private jet rich, dude. Also, carbon footprint. Text to Amy, because of course.)

Here's her plan:

She'll make a beeline to Chloe's apartment (Beca's been here plenty of times, in the past couple of years; met her friends here in Cornell, hung out with them, appreciated that they're her support circle while she's here), and she'll say something incredibly dorky, and Chloe will kiss her, and then, they will properly celebrate.

God, the things Chloe can do with her mouth; the sounds Beca can get her to make.

Beca doesn’t even bother squirming in the plane seat.

Chloe I have a surprise!!!

Whereeee are you? 🥰🥰🥰

Here's what happens instead:

Beca has to fly back home — noun, the place where she lives; noun, Chloe — because while she was spending six hours flying east, Chloe had done the same in the opposite direction; her seminar being canceled (something about the professor being sick?).

She can't believe it.

Okay, she can maybe believe it.

God, the Bellas are going to have a field day with this.

In the group chat, Chloe's taken a selfie of herself in Beca’s apartment and captioned it: I flew here a day early to surprise Beca, but she flew to Cornell instead to surprise me too 😂

Emily OMAG YOU GUYS that is SO CUTE!!!!!!

Beca reads Emily's text, shaking her head, knowing that this is the younger girl's version of restraint.

Flo One time I thought a guy was going to propose to his girlfriend on the plane, but turned out he was having a heart attack instead.

Jessica&Ashley #justsoulmatethings

Rush hour in LA is so horrible, and it's nearly 8 PM when she finally gets back to her apartment. She jogs all the way from the Lyft to her door.

Beca never jogs.

Her own door flings open, and she sees the smiling face of the woman she loves.

"Flying cross country for me is so romantic."

"You did that too," Beca points out, a small smirk on her face.

"Yeah, but you did it twice." Chloe beams, and kisses her again, and again.

#bechloe #pitch perfect #bechloe fic #beca stupid mitchell #and her working through her feelings #kinda #(also please validate me)#my fic

177 notes · View notes