#Pitch Perfect Fanfic
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Happy Anniversary to my favorite couple.
Nowish - Part 4
Bechloe. Staubrey. Bellas Squared/Stechlobree.
A story in which I convinced myself by accident that this could work. Let me try and convince you too.
Nowish Master Post  - Everything on one page.
A Shared Lifetime - All my fics
Recommended Mood Music on Spotify. Artistic license taken with song release years.
Note on the links: The ones about music lead to YouTube vids for fun. Rest are GIFs or links to whatever gift idea I have.
Stacie and Beca have coffee and Bechloe have an anniversary. Fluff alert. Friendship and relationship goals.
~S~
Saturday, April 15th, 2017
Stacie closed the front door behind her and made her way to the living room, finding Aubrey reading through some contracts on their couch and singing âStill Falling For Youâ very softly under her breath. She dropped down, smiling as Aubrey immediately raised her arms so Stacie could stretch her legs over Aubreyâs. She joined her for part of the chorus.
No one can lift me, catch me the way that you do Still falling for you
Aubrey let the song fade and smiled at her. âHow was coffee with Beca?ïżœïżœ
Stacie shrugged. âIt was good. She was telling me about this potential up and coming artist that she gets to work with next week. Sheâs really excited about being able to work with someone that she scouted herself.â
âI bet. I know she loves working with the established guys, but⊠This would be a massive boost for her at the label.â Aubrey let her hand rest on Stacieâs leg and squeezed gently. âSheâll kill it.â
âI think so too.â Stacie leaned back against the arm of the couch and pursed her lips.
âWhat else, I can hear you thinking.â Aubrey put her paperwork down on the table and gave Stacie her full attention. âMust be good, if youâre thinking about it instead of just saying it.â
âWellllllllllâŠâ She smiled when Aubrey pinched her calf. âRemember last weekend when I convinced you to let me ravage you after breakfast as an early birthday present?â Aubrey nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. âWell⊠we may have rushed upstairs. And Beca may have come over for some milk.â Aubreyâs eyes widened again. âAnd we may have forgotten about the door.â
âHoly shit.â Aubrey let her hands drop to the couch as her mouth fell open.
âYup.â Stacie popped the âpâ at the end, a habit picked up from their friends. She kept her legs firmly in place when she felt Aubrey shift as if she was going to stand up to pace or fidget.
âShe⊠just⊠brought it up?â Aubreyâs hand went up to touch her throat gently.
âYeah, it was actually kind of adorable.â Stacie snickered at the memory. She tried to keep it light so Aubrey wouldnât completely freak out. âAfter we talked about her work, her face kinda went blank â you know how it does when sheâs trying to not get embarrassed?â She waited until Aubrey nodded, smiling a little, before she continued. âExcept her RBF was a little marred by the flush slowly creeping up her neck, her fingers were drumming away and she couldnât look me in the eye. Basically every tell she has about being nervous.â Aubrey smiled, but remained silent, waiting. âAnd then she started doing that thing with her hands, the flailing thing. She just wanted me to know, because it was the - wait for it - gentlemanly thing to do.â
Aubreyâs laugh was sudden. "Thatâs just so Beca.â
âIsnât it?â Stacie grinned.
Keep reading
#bechloe#beca mitchell#chloe beale#aubrey posen#stacie conrad#pitch perfect fanfic#staubrey#nowish#a shared lifetime#a cyc shameless self reblog
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Could you do number 9?? đ€
Guess who's back from the dead?!
I apologise, you sent me this prompt like weeks ago at this point, and I've just been slowly working on it whenever I felt motivated.
I hope this can get me back to writing and posting more frequently.
-
9. "My head hurts."
Prompt taken from here.
Read on AO3
-
âMy head hurts.â
It was more of a mumbled exhale than actual words, but it caused Chloeâs eyes to snap open. She practically jumped out of the chair, her phone clattered to the ground as it slipped off her lap.
Sheâd been almost asleep seconds ago, but she was wide awake now.
âBeca?â Chloe said. âBeca, did you just speak?â
Beca groaned in response. She attempted to lift a hand to her head, but the heavy cast on her right arm made it impossible.
âWhat happened?â She asked as she blinked against the brightly lit room.
âAn accident, we think,â Chloe said. âA neighbor found you at the bottom of the stairs in our apartment building. You must have tripped.â
âI donât remember,â Beca said, her uninjured hand pressed against her eyes.Â
âGod, Beca, you scared me half to death. I thoughtâŠâ Chloe trailed off as tears filled her eyes.
Beca let her hand drop and finally turned to look at Chloe. âIs my Mom here?â
Chloe froze. âYou⊠You want me to call your Mom?â
It was Becaâs turn to look confused. âIsnât that, like, the default move? Isnât she my emergency contact, or whatever?â
Chloe swallowed and felt something cold settle in her stomach. âBeca, Iâm your emergency contact.â
âN-noâŠâ Beca said, slowly shaking her head. âArenât you a nurse or something?â
Chloe looked down at her scrubs. She had rushed there straight from work. She hadnât moved from this spot in close to 24 hours. âYou know Iâm not. Beca, do you⊠Do you not know who I am?â
âAm I supposed to?â
Chloe felt like sheâd just been pushed out of a plane. Like she was freefalling with the sound of wind rushing in her ears.
This couldnât be happening.
âIâm your girlfriend, Bec,â Chloe said, her voice shaking.Â
Becaâs widened. She shook her head rapidly before wincing. âI-I donât even know your name. And Iâm not⊠Iâve neverâŠâÂ
Chloe could tell she was getting upset, so she held up her hands. âIâm gonna get a doctor,â she said.Â
âCall my Mom, please.â Beca said. âShe must be worried.â
How old do you think you are? Chloe wanted to ask. What year do you think this is?
How can you not remember me?
-
âItâs likely a result of the TBI,â the surgeon said to Chloe after exiting Becaâs room.Â
Traumatic Brain Injury, Chloe told herself. Beca has a traumatic brain injury.Â
He talked to Chloe about the part of Becaâs brain that had been injured. About how they had repaired the bleed in surgery, and that they were confident in her full recovery.Â
But there was only one question on Chloeâs mind right now.Â
âIs it permanent? The amnesia, is it permanent?â
Will she ever remember me and what we are to each other?
âItâs impossible to know,â he replied. âIt can be, but I couldnât say for definite one way or the other at this time. Let the swelling go down, and give her time.â
âShe, um, she wants me to call her Mom and I⊠I donât know what to tell her.â
âIf she wants you to call her Mom, you should call her,â he said.Â
âBeca and her Mom donât talk,â Chloe said, glancing through the glass in the door to where Beca was lying in bed. Her eyes fixed on the view outside, her uninjured hand fiddling with the edge of her blanket. âHer Mom hasnât spoken to her since Beca came out.â
The doctor sighed. âI see. Maybe you should tell Beca that.â
âAnd break her heart all over again?â
Despite Chloeâs efforts to keep her voice low, it still carried into the room. And despite the gauze and bandages wrapped around Becaâs head, she heard.Â
So she had been right then, about her biggest fear. Her Mom had disowned her after she came out.Â
It made her stomach hurt and her chest feel tight, and did nothing to ease the throbbing in her head.Â
And despite this revelation, she still wanted her Mom there.Â
She was scared and confused and hurt.Â
She didnât want to do this on her own.Â
The door to Becaâs room opened again and Chloe stepped through it.Â
Beca thought she looked exhausted. Her eyes and nose were red, and there were still tears shining in her eyes.Â
âDonât worry,â Chloe said, âIâm gonna go. I just came to get my bag and to, um, say goodbye, I guess.â
Her voice broke on the word goodbye and she quickly turned away.
âCan you prove it?â Beca asked, suddenly feeling terrible for this stranger standing in front of her.Â
âSorry?â
âCan you, like, prove what we were to each other? Can you prove you arenât some crazy stalker?â
Were.Â
Not are.Â
âYeah,â Chloe said, clearing her throat. She unlocked her phone and moved closer to Beca. âYouâre everywhere on this thing.â
âDamn, cell phones got crazy,â Beca mumbled, watching as Chloe began swiping through photo after photo of them together. âWe look happy.â
âWe are.âÂ
Were.
Chloe showed her text messages between them, played her voicemails sheâd saved, and all the embarrassing Instagram posts that Beca used to tease her for.Â
âWe were supposed to have dinner tonight,â Chloe said, as she scrolled through her phone. âOr last night, I guess. Somewhere fancy, your treat. They found a bunch of flowers near you.â Chloe cleared her throat.Â
They found a ring in your pocket.
âThey called me at work and told me what happened and I⊠I thought I was going to lose you, and maybe I have but⊠Iâm so glad youâre still alive, Beca. Even if you arenât mine anymore, the world is still better because youâre in it.â
âThis must be awful for you, Chloe. Iâm really sorry.â
Chloe sniffed and shook her head. âIt isnât your fault.â She wiped her eyes. âIf you want I can come back tomorrow. I can help fill in the gaps, tell you about college, your career, and our life and-â
âNo,â Beca said, her eyes focused on the blankets covering her legs. âIâm sorry, but no.â
âOh. Okay.â
âI heard what you said about my Mom. About why we donât speak.â
âBeca-â
âThe thing about coming out is that you donât get to undo it. Once the catâs out of the bag, you canât get it back in. I⊠I have a chance to put the cat back. I have a chance to get my Mom back.â
âYou would do that? You would go back in the closet, pretend to be someone youâre not, just so your Mom will speak to you again?â
âSheâs my Mom-â
âAnd she treated you terribly. She made you miserable, Beca.â
âWell, she wonât this time. Because youâre going to tell her that I canât remember, and that Iâm asking for her, and Iâll just⊠Iâll pretend. And sheâll pretend. And I can⊠I can have my Mom back. I need my Mom, Chloe, I canât do this on my own. I need family.â
âIâm your family,â Chloe said, wondering if it would be possible for her heart to break anymore.Â
âYouâre a stranger,â Beca said.Â
Yes, Chloe thought. It is possible for my heart to break more.Â
âIs this really what you want?â
âYes. Please. Please just call her.â
Chloe let out something between a laugh and a scoff. She rubbed a hand against her tired eyes. âSheâll hang up the second she hears my voice. Iâll have one of the nurses do it.â
âDo you need me to give you her number?â
âYou donât have it,â Chloe said. âI have it, but you donât.â
âLook, Iâm sorry,â Beca said. It suddenly seemed important to her that Chloe didnât leave mad at her. âBut Iâm doing what I feel like I need to.â
âI know,â Chloe said. âYou donât need to be sorry. Iâm not mad, I'm just⊠My whole world is ending right now.â Chloe wiped her eyes again and picked up her bag from the floor. âEven if you donât remember me, I would have stayed. Iâd have gotten you to fall in love with me all over again. But if you need your Mom then⊠Then this really is goodbye.â
âGoodbye, Chloe,â Beca said. âThank you for, you know, waiting with me.â
âOf course I waited with you,â Chloe said. âYou should get some rest.â
âYeah.â
Before she left the room, she hesitated at the door. âIf you change your mind, my number is in your phone. The screen is cracked to all hell, but it still works. Your passcode is 0607.â
âOh, okay. Why is that my passcode?â
âItâs my birthday.â
âAh, right, I guess I should change that.â
Chloe left before she could hear anymore.Â
She didnât want to hang around while Beca erased what was left of her from her life.Â
-
She couldnât go back to their apartment so Chloe spent the next few hours walking around the city in a haze.
It seemed impossible to her that yesterday morning she had woken up beside the love of her life. Beca had pulled her back to bed when Chloe had tried to get up for work.
âDonât forget about our date tonight.â
âIâm not the one whoâs always getting caught up at work.â
Yesterday morning they had eaten a hasty breakfast while they manoeuvred around each other in their tiny apartment - Beca having made them both late for work - and Chloe couldnât even remember if sheâd said âI love youâ as she dashed out of the door.Â
What was she meant to do now?
Where was she meant to go?
Yesterday her future stretched out ahead of her, so clear she could almost see every milestone.
Now it was like staring at a brick wall.Â
She didnât want a future without Beca in it, yet she wasnât even given a choice.Â
She wondered when she should tell the Bellas. They didnât know about her fall - Chloe had been waiting for either good or bad news before contacting them - and now she had no idea what to say.
Bad news, Beca fell down the stairs. Good news, she survived. Bad news, she doesnât know who any of us are.
It wasnât a conversation she was ready to have yet.Â
Chloe went back to the apartment with the intention of grabbing spare clothes and her phone charger before heading for a hotel.
But then she walked through the door and saw another cruel joke from the universe.
Their apartment was spotless, when Chloe knew it hadnât been when sheâd left.
On the table was a bottle of champagne, sitting in a now melted ice-bucket, along with a sprinkling of rose petals on their bed.Â
Beca had been so certain of Chloeâs answer, Chloe almost wanted to laugh at her cockiness.
Beca was right, of course, Chloe would have said yes before sheâd even finished asking the question.
The only thing out of place was the scattered shoes by Becaâs half of the wardrobe.Â
Sheâd clearly tried on a few pairs before settling on the unsteady heels that were higher than she usually wore.
Had that caused her fall? Chloe wondered. If sheâd worn the flatter shoes would I have a fiance now, instead of an ex who doesnât remember me?
Chloe had been given the late shift, so sheâd planned on getting ready at the vetâs office and meeting Beca at the restaurant. Sheâd gotten the call just as she clocked off.Â
Had Beca been running late? Had she hurried down the stairs instead of waiting for the slow, clunky, elevator?
Chloe couldnât look anymore.
She grabbed what sheâd come there to get, and left for the hotel.
Once there she would shower, and sleep and thenâŠ
And then sheâd figure out how to move on with the rest of her life.
-
Chloe wasnât sure how much time had passed, but it was still dark out when the buzzing of her phone woke her up.Â
âHello?â She mumbled, eyes closing again as she held the phone to her ear.Â
âMs Beale?â
âSpeaking.â She desperately wanted to go back to sleep. She had dreamt of Beca and wanted to go back.
âIâm calling from the hospital, itâs about Beca.â
Oh god, what now?
âIs she okay?â
âTheyâve taken her back into surgery, a CT scan found another bleed that they missed last time.â
The womanâs voice on the other end of the phone was calm, but it did nothing to ease the fear ratcheting up inside her.
âBut sheâll be okay, right?â
âTheyâre very confident that she will be, yes, but we think itâs a good idea for you to come in.â
âI⊠I canât. Beca doesnât remember me and her Mom hates me, I donât want to make this harder for her. She asked me not to come back so⊠Iâm sorry.â
âBecaâs motherâŠâ The woman on the phone trailed off, and Chloe heard her professionalism slip from the first time. âWe called her, like you asked, but she refused to come. She said that Beca may have forgotten, but she certainly hasnât.â
Chloe felt too angry to speak. Her hand was gripping the phone so tightly it was a wonder it hadnât shattered.
âMs Beale,â the woman said, her voice firm again, mistaking Chloeâs silence for hesitance. âBeca will need someone, and youâre still her emergency contact.â
âIâm on my way,â Chloe said. Heartbroken and exhausted as she was, she knew she could never turn her back on Beca.Â
-
âMy head hurts.â
Chloe got a rush of deja vu as she looked up from her phone. Hours had passed and sunlight had once again begun peaking through the window. Chloe had lost track of what day it was.
âHey,â Chloe said. âWelcome back?â
âWhat happened?â Beca said, wincing at the lights in the room as she tried to sit up. âYou look as bad as I feel.â
Chloe swallowed. âThey found another bleed,â she said. âBut they fixed it. And I know you said not to come back, but they called and-â
âWhat are you talking about?â Beca asked, closing her eyes and letting her head rest against the pillows again. âBleed where? Whatâs going on, Chloâ?â
Chloe thought her heart might have stopped.
âWhat did you call me?â
âOh my god, start talking sense, please Beale. I feel like Iâve been kicked in the head by a horse.â
âBeca, do you know who I am? You remember me?â
âLike I could forget you,â Beca snorted. âCan you tell me whatâs going on? I mean, it must be something bad if Iâm in the hospital and you look like that.â
I must be dreaming, Chloe thought. Iâm still asleep in that hotel room and Iâm going to wake up any second and be alone again.
âChloe, youâre freaking me out.â
âWhatâs the last thing you remember?â
Beca closed her eyes, a crease forming between her eyebrows that she always got when she was concentrating.
âI donât know,â she said. âLeaving work early, I guess? No, I remember cleaning the apartment.â Her eyes remained closed as she thought. âShoes,â she said, opening her eyes. âI was trying to decide on what shoes to wear.â
âYou fell down the stairs,â Chloe said, hope filling her chest like a rapidly rising balloon. âWe think you fell down the stairs. You hit your head really badly.â
âShit,â Beca said. âHow badly?â
âLike multiple surgeries to repair brain bleeds bad,â Chloe said, tears brimming in her eyes once again. âLike⊠Like you forgot who I was bad.â
âOh,â Beca said. âThatâs why you look like that. Baby, Iâm so sorry. That must have been⊠I canât even imagine.â
Chloe shook her head and tried to wipe away the tears that wouldnât stop forming. âIt wasnât your fault.â
The tears kept falling and Chloe eventually broke into a sob.
âI thought I lost you,â she said, holding onto Beca as best she could without hurting her.
âIâm sorry,â Beca said again.Â
She waited for Chloeâs sobs to die down before Beca spoke again. She didnât want to cause Chloe anymore pain, but she still had questions to ask.
âI didnât remember you at all?âÂ
âNo,â Chloe said, wiping her eyes and sitting back in her chair. âI was a total stranger to you.â
âWhat year did I think it was? How much time did I lose?â
âI donât know,â Chloe said. âA lot of time, I think. Pre-college based on the stuff you were saying. YouâŠâ Chloe trailed off. âWe donât have to do this now, you know? I can fill you in on all of this when youâre doing better.â
Beca was quiet again, and Chloe could practically hear the cogs turning in her head. âYou said I told you not to come back.â
Chloe sighed. âYeah,â she said.Â
âIâm sorry,â Beca said. âI donât know why I would have said that.â
âYou⊠You wanted your Mom, Bec. You didnât know you werenât speaking, and then when you heard⊠You wanted to pretend. Wanted me to call her and tell her youâd forgotten everything and that you wanted her there.â
âJesus,â Beca said. âShe disowned me when I was 19.â
âI know,â Chloe said. I was there. âBut you were scared and I was a stranger. You must have thought you were still a teenager, and hereâs some woman in her 30s saying sheâs your girlfriend. Iâd have probably asked for my Mom too.âÂ
âShit, wait, did you call her?â Beca asked, suddenly looking alarmed. âIs she going to burst into my room any second thinking her daughter is straight again?â
âNo,â Chloe said. âI know she wouldnât have spoken to me, so I asked the nurses to do it as I left.â Chloe swallowed. âI guess they didnât get around to it before you had to go back in for surgery.â
She was never very good at lying to Beca, so she avoided looking into her eyes.
âShe didnât want to come,â Beca said. âThey called her, and she said no, right?â
Chloe nodded. âIâm sorry, Bec.â
Beca let out a soft laugh and shook her head, before wincing and stopping. âYou donât need to apologise to me for anything. After what I put you through, you donât have to apologise to me ever again.â
âYou have a brain injury, Beca. I donât want you feeling guilty over this. I thought you were going to die. And then you woke up and I was so relieved and then⊠Youâd survived but I was still losing you. I thought Iâd have to spend the rest of my life figuring out how to stop loving you, and now I have you back. Itâs⊠Iâm treating this as a miracle, Bec. That was a bad dream, and now Iâve woken up and youâre still here and you love me again, and thatâs all I care about. Okay? No guilt over what you had no control over.â
Beca smiled. âOkay.âÂ
They talked for a little while longer before Beca fell asleep again.Â
When she woke a few hours later, Chloe was still at her bedside.
âDude, you can go home you know?â She said, trying to adjust herself into a more comfortable position.
âIâm not leaving you alone in the hospital,â Chloe replied. Beca took hold of her hand again, and Chloe rested her head on the rails on Becaâs bed. âThough I should probably go shower at some point.â
Beca brushed her thumb across Chloeâs hand before coming to rest on the spot just above the knuckle of her ring finger. âHave you been back to the apartment yet?â
âI have,â Chloe said.Â
âWell, thereâs that surprise out of the window,â Beca said, and Chloe laughed for what felt like the first time in days.Â
âI can still act surprised,â Chloe said. âIâll pretend I didnât see it. Pretend I donât know that there was a ring in your pocket.â
âDamn, canât a girl have any secrets?â
Chloe laughed again. âI canât say it was a total shock,â she said. âYou had me get my nails done and everything this week. You booked a table at my favourite restaurant, and I know you made sure I was on the late shift so I couldnât get back to the apartment until after our date.â
âOkay Sherlock,â Beca said. âI guess Iâm not as sneaky as I thought. Did the ring survive?â
âI think so,â Chloe said. âI didnât check. I wanted to wait for you to ask.â
âCan you go get it?â
Chloe nodded and pressed a kiss against Becaâs cheek.Â
She retrieved the little black box that was in a bag of Becaâs belongings and passed it to her.
With Chloeâs help, Beca sat up a little higher in bed.
âWell, this wasnât really the way I was planning on doing this, but Chloe Beale will-â
âYes!â
#bechloe#bechloe fanfic#bechloe fanfiction#bechloe fic#bechloe hurt/comfort#bechloe angst#pitch perfect#pitch perfect fanfiction#pitch perfect fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#beca mitchell#chloe beale#beca#chloe#bechloe prompt#no matter the timeline
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just a touch of your love:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/63250759
Summary: âI notice, you know.â
Beca tries to be more physically affectionate, and Chloe notices.
ânew fic postedd! writing this was a completely therapeutic experience ;)

#bechloe#beca mitchell#chloe beale#pitch perfect#anna kendrick#brittany snow#ao3#writer#fanfiction#bechloe fanfic#pitch perfect fanfic#pitch perfect fanfiction#fanfic
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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Fluff, Christmas Eve, Merry Pitchmas Gift Exchange 2024, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:
âMiss me already?â she chuckled into the line. Chloeâs return chuckle made something click into place inside her.
âYou know I always do miss you, you dorkâ, was the smiling reply from hundreds of miles away, leaving her momentarily speechless; not because it was unfamiliar or out of character, but simply because she wished more than anything, at that singular moment, that all those miles just werenât there. @massivedrickhead i hope you enjoy your pitchmas gift and that itâs worth the wait!! happy holidays <3
#it's been such a long while#so i hope y'all enjoy#bechloe#bechloe fanfic#bechloe fic#pitch perfect#pitch perfect fanfic#beca mitchell#chloe beale#merry pitchmas 2024#writing#fanfiction#mine
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TRUST ME WITH YOUR HEART (I CAN FIX IT TOO)
Rating: T Chapter 35/35 Pairings: Bechloe Chapter Summary: With Aubrey and Emily's lives hanging by a thread, what truths will out while their friends try to save them?
HOLY FUCKING SHIT GUYS CAN YOU BELIEVE IT'S FINISHED????? I CAN'T!!!
Genuinely, from the bottom of my soul, thank you so much to every single one of you for putting up with my insanely sporadic update schedule for this fic (and all of my fics lbr) over the last 3 years, it is my pride and joy and I can't believe we've actually gotten to the end of it đđđ
Of course, this is the first installment of a series so there will be more for this au, but before I dive headfirst into a new fic, I'm going to try and close out some of my other wips first because I am aware there is a LOT of them, so consider this the end of the season jdkfgjfdlkjg but I am so excited and so ready to figure out what I'm writing next and hopefully giving you guys some resolutions to my other fics!!
Love ya đ©”đ©”đ©”
#pitch perfect#pitch perfect fanfic#pitch perfect edit#bechloe#bechloe fics#bechloe fanfic#beca mitchell#chloe beale#fanfiction#moodboard: bechloe#my fic#wip: tmwyh(icfit)
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Summary:
Five times Chloe tried to spend time with Beca.
And one time she didn't have to try.
Tags, Warnings, and Rating are under the 'Keep Reading'.
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Pitch Perfect (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell Characters: Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Post-Canon, Post-Pitch Perfect 3, Angst with a Happy Ending, out of time, Music Star!Beca, Love Confessions, One Shot
#whumpuary2025#whumpuaryno9#Out of Time#Pitch Perfect#Pitch Perfect Fanfic#Pitch Perfect Fic#Pitch Perfect Fanfiction#Beca Mitchell#Chloe Beale#Bechloe#Bechloe fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3
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Chicken Scratch | Ch1/ Stupid this, stupid that
Rating: T
Fandom: Pitch Perfect
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
***
Beca Mitchell has never understood the hype around the soulmate finding thing.
The whole thing is plainly too stupid for her liking. As stupid as she looked ten minutes ago mistaking DJ as, undoubtedly, disc jockey.
...read on AO3
***
anyone still shipping Beca and Chloe in 2024??
#beca mitchell#chloe beale#bechloe#pitch perfect#read on ao3#bechloe fanfic#pitch perfect fanfic#bechloe fic#pitch perfect fic#ao3#ao3 fanfic
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A (Few) Day(s) in the Life - Lingerie
A very overdue second chapter of random glimpses into the lives of my favorite girls.
This was meant to be a short, fade to black ficlet while I tried to remember how to do this words thing. Close enough.
Thank you to everyone who has ever left me a comment on AO3 (I owe so many responses over the last 3 years) or sent me a message on Tumblr, encouraging me to continue after all this time. Iâm really hoping to finish a few things next year as I still owe everyone a Staubrey origin and cliffhanger reveal.
For @tiny-maus-boots and @kimmania. I honestly donât know if Iâd be here without your unending support and encouragement in life as well as writing.
And for Rylee, who somehow convinced-slash-hoodwinked me into thinking about the Mitchsen chapter, which in turn reminded me I needed to get this one done first.
Words: 3600ish (aka the 2nd shortest thing I've ever written.)
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Chapter 1 (and the whole Nowish Universe) on AO3
Master Post for Tumblr
And just because, the Spotify playlist that helped me write pretty much every Pitch story.
A Pitch Perfect Lifetime
----------------------
~S~
Wednesday, October 11th, 2017
âIs it dumb that Iâm nervous?â
Stacie turned to look at Aubrey who very clearly was avoiding looking at her. Which meant she missed the loving smile that Stacie aimed her way.
âBree.â Aubrey didnât turn, merely slid another hanger to the side and intently looked at the clothing behind it, which was exactly the same style and color. âThere is a list of things you are not, and dumb is definitely on it.â Stacie resumed going through the rack in front of her, deciding this was one of those times that Aubrey needed to pretend they werenât having a discussion about whatever was bothering her. She knew theyâd eventually get to the heart of it. âWere you nervous with Chloe?â
A pause. âNo.â Another few seconds filled with the sounds of hangers sliding along metal racks. âChloe is home.â
âAre you saying Becaâs less?â Stacie grinned even though they still werenât looking at each other.
âIâm not even going to dignify that with an answer.â Very snooty, very amused but then a longer pause. âBut my history with Beca is moreâŠâ
âSpicy?â Stacie looked over her shoulder and saw Aubreyâs beautiful smile in profile.
âI suppose thatâs one way to put it,â Aubrey agreed wryly. âBut thatâs not quite what I meant.â
Stacie looked around them and lowered her voice even though there was no one else near them in the shop. âYou guys have been alone before.â
âNot like this, no. Not sinceâŠâ Aubreyâs voice was even quieter and Stacie had to strain a little to hear it. âYou and or Chloe have always been in the house or within minutes of getting home.â
âReally?â Stacie turned and rested one elbow on the rack. âIâd have swornâŠâ She thought for a minute, watching Aubreyâs hands as they ran down lacy fabric. Their movements were graceful but precise. Controlled.
Chloe had a convention she wanted to attend the following week and it was Stacieâs turn to go with her, leaving Aubrey and Beca at home to hold down the fort. It was something they had done many times before, but it was the first time since beginning their new shared life together.
The nerves were making a kind of sense now, Stacie mused, reaching out to run her hand down Aubreyâs back before moving past her to another rack of lingerie. She didnât know yet what exactly was going on in her beautiful wifeâs head, but since Aubrey was at least dancing around the subject, it hopefully wouldnât be too long before she could help work through it.
Briefly she wondered if Beca was nervous before deciding that of course she was. The two women were far more alike than either of them usually admitted to. In fact, sheâd almost be willing to place a large sum of money that whatever was setting off Aubreyâs nerves was at least partially in Becaâs mind as well.
âBree?â Stacie waited until Aubrey turned and held up a random negligee. âWhat about this one?â
âHmm?â She turned, eyed it narrowly from top to bottom and pursed her lips before giving a single dismissive shake of her head âNo.â
As she turned away, Stacie sighed and hung it back up before moving to stand next to Aubrey and flip through the same rack, though she wasnât paying any attention to the clothing in front of them. âAre you turning your nose up at everything in every store weâve stopped at today because you canât find anything you think will make a good impression on the woman who already loves you?â
âI donât know what you mean.â Another precise sliding of hangers from right to left.
âYouâre using your high voice, Bree.â Stacie nudged her gently with her elbow. âThe denial tone doesnât work on me anymore.â Sheâd used to think it was just haughty and dismissive â and okay, sometimes it was â but now she knew that it usually hid uncertainty and a need to look in control when Aubrey felt anything but. âYou could wear the Bella uniform and sheâd still think youâre one of the three hottest women sheâs ever seen. Sheâd be dying to rip it off you.â
Aubrey snorted. âThat last is true â mostly because of the PTSD it would cause.â
âOoh, yeah. Thatâs probably true.â She waited a moment, trying to figure out the best way to help. âItâs true though. She loves you and when I asked if you wanted to pick up matching lingerie, I didnât mean to make you think you needed to dress up.â
âNo, I know.â Aubrey glanced at her from the corner of her eye. âAnd I know I donât, butâŠâ She bit her lip in a very Chloe manner that made Stacie smile. âI want to make it special.â
âThe fact that you exist makes every day special, love.â She leaned over and kissed Aubreyâs cheek. âFor all of us. Whatâs really going on?â
With a sigh, Aubrey finally turned to face her, sheepishly meeting her eyes. âI have a lot to make up for.â
âWhat do you mean?â Stacieâs brow furrowed. Â
She wondered if there was something else she was missing, having obviously not realized that the two women had never been fully alone together before. Sure, she and Chloe hadnât yet either â a circumstance they were happily changing next weekend as well â but that was more random luck than anything. She knew how they all felt, knew them better than herself some days, and it had never occurred to her that any of them would be hesitant. Not with how much they loved and trusted each other.
Then again, she reminded herself, they were only three months into their new phase of life. A fact that she found hard to accept since it felt like they had been together for years this way. Plus, Aubrey and Beca were built a little different. More prone to listen to their darker fears even knowing they shouldnât. Not anymore. And now that Stacie was thinking about it that way, things started falling into place.
âI wasnât nervous with Chloe because sheâs been my home for years. But with BecaâŠâ Aubrey continued, looking down and then back up through lowered brows. âI worry she⊠Itâs just that, the first year I was so terrible.â
âAubrey.â Stacie very much wanted to reach out and hold her but didnât think it was the place even if it was the damn time. âYouâre both so far past that ââ
âRationally I know that!â Aubrey raised her hands in frustration but kept her voice low. âOr tell myself I do.â She signed softly, shoulders slumping. âBut does she know?â
It was said so plaintively that Stacie pulled her into a hug, potential audiences be damned. âKnow what, love?â
âThat sheâs as necessary to my continued existence as you and Chloe.â Aubrey pressed her face into Stacieâs shoulder, the words muffled but the worry coming through loud and clear.
Stacie thought about the way Beca would sometimes watch Aubrey in their quiet moments â while one or the other was working quietly on a laptop on the couch; when Aubrey was taking pictures of her garden, trying out her artistic angles while sober â her eyes so filled with peace and love⊠Chloe had confided to Stacie that on at least one occasion sheâd had to make up some excuse and leave the room because it had moved her to tears.
âOh⊠Iâm very certain she knows.â Stacie kissed the side of her head. âBut Iâm definitely behind Project Woo Her if thatâs what you want. I will never say no to looking at all these sexy outfits and picturing you in them.â She leaned down and whispered in Aubreyâs ear. âAnd to imagine Beca slowly removing them from you.â There was nothing more beautiful in Stacieâs mind than the image of any of them being together.
With a laugh, Aubrey stepped back, her smile genuine and more than a touch wicked. âDonât think youâre going wind me up and lure me into the dressing room, lover.â
Relieved at the teasing, Stacie lifted her chin at the challenge. âDonât think Iâm ever going to give up trying.â She turned Aubrey around and patted her on the ass. âNow, letâs find you something thatâll make Becaâs legs weak before you even lay one silken fingertip on her skin.â Aubrey flashed a wink over her shoulder and Stacie felt some of the tension drain from her. It was likely only temporary, but sheâd just do her best to draw the rest of it out or, at the least, keep Aubrey distracted for the next week.
In part she supposed thatâs why she had made the suggestion that they go shopping for the non-boring sleepwear that Beca said they should bring over. Both because she wanted to reaffirm, once again, that this was all okay and she was one million percent behind this amazing new life they were making as a foursome. But also, that she expected Aubrey and Beca to enjoy any and all of their moments alone just as Aubrey was encouraging Stacie to do with Chloe. Sure, it might be a little strange to just be two bodies instead of three or four, but they all knew each other inside and out â puns absolutely intended â and she couldnât imagine it feeling awkward for any of them.
It certainly hadnât phased Aubrey just a few weeks earlier when she and Chloe had finally realized what had been growing between them for years.
Then again, the rest of them didnât have the contentious history that Beca and Aubrey did, and the last thing she wanted to do was dismiss Aubreyâs worries and make her feel worse about them. Maybe sheâd just have to have a talk with Chloe to see if there was matching nerves and anxiety at the Beale-Mitchell household and see what they could do to help their partners relax. She smirked to herself as she continued that thought and realized that even if she and Chlo failed, once the other two were past the first few minutes they would help each other relax just fine. Repeatedly.
After a couple more minutes of perusing, holding up various outfits up to each other and dismissing them, Stacie pulled a white bustier and panty set and held them up. It was satin and lace, zipped down the center and it was solid with none of the peek-a-boo cutouts that she normally bought. Simple and yet it called to her to try it on.
âHey Bree? Iâm going to go try this one.â
âOh?â Aubrey turned and Stacie held it behind her back. âSeriously?â She pouted and Stacie laughed.
âYouâll see soon enough.â The pout deepened and she relented. âI wonât make you wait until weâre home â youâll get to decide if we buy it or not.â
âOooh, Iâm in charge today?â Aubreyâs eyebrows rose in delight.
âFor now.â As Aubrey laughed behind her, Stacie made her way to the fitting rooms and found most of them unoccupied. Taking the one against the left wall, she locked the door behind her and quickly stripped, knowing that Aubrey would be drifting closer as she looked for the perfect outfit.
The straps over the shoulder were adjustable and fit comfortably and when she zipped the top closed, it wasnât constrictive. The front of the bustier came down to points that would pair perfectly with nylons and garter straps if one were so inclined.
Each room had tri-fold mirror on one wall so shoppers could get a better idea of how everything looked from all angles and after a couple minutes of turning this way and that, Stacie decided she approved. Sheâd also decided that Aubrey would look utterly fucking delicious in this same outfit in black and definitely with nylons. Satisfied with how it fit her, she opened the door and found Aubrey only a little way away, holding up another bustier and panty set that was all silk, lace and almost matched the color of Chloeâs eyes.
âWeâre definitely going to have to get that one for her,â Stacie said softly, leaning against the doorframe.
âYeah?â Aubrey tilted her head as she eyed the outfit. âI think so too.â She finally turned her head and toward the dressing rooms. âI thi ââ She stopped mid word, her eyes widening and her hands going slack, suddenly nerveless fingers losing their grip on the hanger and letting it fall to the ground, utterly forgotten.
It immediately brought to mind the night sheâd proposed; Aubrey had reflexively dropped the rib that sheâd been eating when Stacie had brought out the ring. It almost shamed her to admit it, but her ego purred under the immediate desire that lit Aubreyâs face, even as she marveled that this beautiful and complex woman was hers to love forever.
Then Aubrey was moving, a not-quite-casual swift power walk that bordered on a charge. Stacie was unprepared as her wife pushed her back into the fitting room, closing the door behind them. Stacie started laughing as Aubreyâs hands began to run over her hips and thighs; the amusement at the best reaction she had ever gotten in public from Aubrey filtering the slow building sizzle as the touches burned with serious intent.
âBree?â The chuckles still bubbled up but they were followed quickly by the urge to moan as Aubreyâs fingertips dipped just under the edge of the panties and slid back and forth.
âCan you be quiet?â Aubreyâs lips were busy pressing kisses to her exposed upper chest and Stacie took an involuntary deep breath, lifting herself closer and it was Aubreyâs turn to chuckle against her skin.
âMe?â Stacie found herself in the unfamiliar position of having her mind short circuit and having to sprint to catch up with her normally restrained in public spouse. âYouâre the loud one.â
Aubreyâs head snapped up, indignant. âI am not!â To her credit, it was whispered and not shouted like it usually was at home. The corner of her mouth twitched. âThatâs Beca.â She slowly backed Stacie up until she was against the wall.
âOh, right.â Stacie licked her lips as Aubreyâs hands resumed their wandering over her body. She flicked a look at the door and was grateful to see that even in her rush to get them in the room, Aubrey had locked it behind them. âYouâre going to get us kicked out of here before we can buy these, arenât you?â
âNot if weâre quiet.â She paused, just the slightest bit, giving Stacie the opportunity to stop things before they got too far.
As if.
âWell, I did say youâre in chargeâŠâ
With a familiar wicked glint in her eyes, Aubreyâs fingertips once again dipped under the edge of the panties but this time she pushed, her palms skimming down and taking the fabric with them until they fell to the floor. Her nails ran back up the outside of Stacieâs thighs and up her sides to trace the edge of the bustier, tickling as they barely grazed her skin. âGod, you look amazing, Stacie.â She flattened her hands and ran them over Stacieâs breasts to her stomach, curving them around her ribs before retracing her steps. âYou feel so good.â
It was unspoken that they would need to be quick as well as quiet. There had only been a handful of times that Stacie had been able to coax Aubrey into anything even half as risky and all of them had been at night and most with alcohol. She knew without being told that if she hadnât come before Aubrey reached whatever timer she had going on in her head, Stacie would have to wait until they got home.
Aubreyâs fingers were on the zipper of the bustier and Stacie could tell she wanted to do it slow, teasingly, but they just didnât have that sort of time. She pulled normally, as if this were any normal trying on of outfits, but the second Stacieâs breasts were free, her lips covered one nipple and sucked lightly.
Stacieâs head rebounded lightly off the wall as she jerked in pure reaction and she winced at the small thump, hoping it didnât carry. She tried to say something, anything, to keep anyone from asking if she was okay, but even a simple âOopsâ wouldnât pass her lips when Aubreyâs hand slid down and cupped her center.
âI think that one looks great, Stace.â Aubreyâs voice was shockingly even for someone whoâs lips brushed Stacieâs nipple as she spoke for the benefit of an audience that might not even exist. âTry the other one.â As if her middle finger wasnât slightly stroking Stacieâs clit in all the right ways to make her whimper even though that was definitely not in todayâs rules.
âLetâs hear it for Posen control,â she thought giddily, her legs parting to give Aubrey a little more room. But even as she really hoped Aubrey didnât expect her to answer, she looked down and saw Aubreyâs eyebrow lift in challenge.
Goddamnit.
She licked lips suddenly gone dry and took a deep breath. âSure, Bree.â She was rewarded by Aubreyâs mouth on her breast once more, tongue swirling to match the motions of her middle finger.
Stacie could already tell it wasnât going to take long, the sheer fact of Aubrey â her unbelievably sexy but usually-proper-in-public wife â taking her in broad goddamned daylight, even if they were in a locked room, was enough to throw her halfway to orgasm; she could hear people talking in other rooms for fucks sake and Aubrey was still touching her and showing no signs of stopping.
With an ease brought about only by familiarity and deep trust, it didnât take long for Aubrey to have Stacie wet and writhing against her. She swallowed the gasp as those long, skillful fingers filled her in a way guaranteed to reduce her to a trembling mess in their bed. Except she was plastered to a wall and had to lock her knees to keep herself upright as Aubrey took her in complete silence, their eyes locked together.
She would have thought it was the images of them in the mirrors that surrounded them that would have done it, but it was Aubreyâs gaze softening from wicked determination to sensual devotion â a distinction and emotion Stacie had never known before Aubrey â that pushed Stacie to the peak. She reached down with her hand and gripped Aubreyâs wrist, pulling up until Aubrey understood what she was after and thrust deep within, her palm tight to the curve of Stacieâs body; letting her set the pace and take what she needed. Her eyes closing involuntarily, Stacie rolled her hips, rising and falling, chasing her release until Aubrey leaned forward and raised ever so slightly on her tiptoes to whisper in Stacieâs ear.
âCome for me, mon Soleil.â
Her body surrendered instantaneously. She pulled harder on Aubreyâs wrist, her hips driving downward in rocking spasms as she rode Aubreyâs touch. Eventually her body slowed and she realized she had no idea how much time had gone by, though she was very aware she didnât have enough time to sink into the blissful lassitude spreading through her muscles in the aftermath. They had to pull themselves together â or apart as the case may be â and clean up. There was also no way they were leaving without buying the garments that had been so gleefully stripped from her.
In several variations.
Leaning against the wall, she kept her eyes closed for another few moments, enjoying the languor before she had to hustle back into her clothes. Except she heard another zipper and looked around to find Aubrey digging into her purse one handed. She couldnât help it; she started laughing as Aubrey pulled out a pack of wet wipes.
âAlways prepared, arenât you, love?â Just one of the legion of reasons she had fallen in love.
Despite the hint of rose in her cheeks, Aubrey handed over several. âNever know when they might come in handy.â In a lower aside, she half muttered, âBesides, itâs not like Iâm going to go walking through the shop with you all over my hand.â A pause. âYouâre definitely going to go pay and Iâll meet you in the car.â
Stacie merely smiled. âïżœïżœKay.â
It didnât take long to clean themselves up and for Stacie to get dressed. When Aubrey left the room, power walking like a champ, Stacie took another moment to rearrange the outfit on the hanger and hopefully make it less obvious the room had been very occupied.
When she went back to the rack, she kept an unobtrusive eye on other shoppers but no one seemed to be paying any special attention to her. Deciding to stop worrying about it, she picked up the same outfit in black in Aubreyâs size, as well as a red outfit of similar design that caught her eye. It took only another moment to find the blue lingerie Aubrey had been holding and bring all four outfits up to the counter.
Finishing the transaction without the cashier giving her any sort of knowing look, she pushed her way through the door and out into the bright sun, wishing sheâd brought her sunglasses with her. Lengthening her stride, she headed down the block to where theyâd parked the car, anticipation singing through her veins like champagne. She couldnât wait to get Aubrey home and in bed to return the gift sheâd just been givenâŠ
And maybe later theyâd invite Beca and Chloe over and see who was louder once and for all.
#aubrey posen#stacie conrad#chloe beale#beca mitchell#staubrey#bechloe#bellas squared#a shared lifetime#cyc writes#a few days#pitch perfect fanfic
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who else decodes you? (mitchsen fic)
Beca Mitchell was the editor-in-chief of the Barden Music Journal, and she loved it. She got to interview bands, write up reviews, and work with her best friends. She was pretty good at student journalism. Her readers loved her. The problem was, her readers were also Aubrey Posen's readers. Aubrey Posen, editor-in-chief of The Barden Gazette, and ex...person...in Beca's life. High school was a long time ago, but unresolved feelings had a funny way of coming to light through damning articles and meddling friends.
read chapter one on ao3 here, or below.
BARDEN MUSIC JOURNAL
You ever stop and think for a moment â what the hell am I doing?
When youâre lounging in the library in the middle of the night, the god-awful coffee from the vending machine on the third floor already cold by the time you reach your desk, a couple equally unlucky souls hanging around the desks nearby, all dutifully typing up their assignments whilst youâre struggling to focus. What the hell are we doing?
What is it about the world that forces us into these situations? Capitalism, obviously, but beyond that. Why do we need to work on assignments about some fucked up centuries old King of England when what we really want to do with our lives doesnât concern royalty at all? At least, not the generational kind.
Itâs really no secret that I â being this journalâs editor in chief â want to work in the music industry. I want to work with music royalty. I want to earn music royalties. Itâs all rad being a college student and getting a degree until that degree drives you further and further from your dream. Itâs no longer rad then, it becomes trite. Exhaustive, a waste of time and energy and brain power.
Thatâs when music brings you back to life.
Thatâs what music is for, really.
The assignment is long forgotten, buried in a sea of tabs and documents that I have no desire to revisit. Spotify opens (for the tenth time today), and all liked songs are shuffled. In the dead of the clinically lit night, music is the only thing that can bring me back to life. It doesnât matter how many times we try to convince ourselves that what weâre working on is worthwhile, it canât be, not if it isnât electrifying. The first song that plays will determine my mood for the next several hours. Will it be some sappy love song, forcing me into a well of yearning and heartache, allowing me to consider King Henryâs tragic love life in a new (still clinical) light? Or will it be heavy metal, screamed lyrics bouncing around my brain so fervently that I scrap my assignment on the King altogether and instead focus on the extreme anger half of his ex-wives mustâve been in by the end of his reign?
The Way â Ariana Grande feat. Mac Miller.
Okay. I guess itâs time to write about the only good relationship he had? Jane Seymour it is.
Music governs my life. It would be impossible to do anything without it. I donât know how they coped in the 1500s. Heads being chopped off left, right, and centre, and no Spotify to numb the pain. Sounds like hell.
By Beca Mitchell
THE BARDEN GAZETTE
Some students at this college feel as though life is an endless, meaningless array of pointless assignments and lacklustre library trips for degrees that donât matter in the grand scheme of life.
How wrong those students are.
They are even more wrong to write about it.
Attempting to convince college students that theyâre wasting their time and money on a degree as if it wonât increase their job prospects, credibility and comprehension of the world is ridiculous. A degree cannot make you famous overnight, itâs true (unless you have an exceptionally high GPA, and a near-perfect essay paper worthy of publishing). But what BARDEN MUSIC JOURNAL fails to reconcile with is that hard work is what leads people to working with royalty, however that royalty may come.
One does not simply snap their fingers and find their way into their dream profession. If I were to do that, I would be the worst lawyer on the planet.
Barden does not prepare you for dreams, it prepares you for reality.
Statistics state that 61% of employees with degrees advance to higher ranking positions within 12 months of beginning their careers outside of the academic sector. It is statistically proven that those long nights in the library pay off in ways that governing your assignments on whichever song blares into your headphones cannot. If I were to argue a case based upon the plot of the last fiction book I read, I would fear for my client. It is highly unlikely that my book would relate to the international, criminal, property, or even environmental law I may be practising.
We as journalists have a duty to tell the truth. First person pieces are great, but no reason to pass by objectivity. Objectively, every assignment set at Barden is set for a reason. Every hour you put into your studies will pay off in the end, no matter what you decide to do with your degree, your time will not have been wasted at this university. I for one am sick of people pretending otherwise. Through all the complaints, weâre all still here. Thousands of students graduate Barden every year.
As my father always says: A school of fish is no school at all if they all drown.
Study hard. Donât be distracted by the foolâs paradise of flimsy dreams. Donât leave your assignments to the point of all-nighters with undesirables, like those who allow algorithmic playlist shuffles to control their GPA. Take it from the editor in chief of the award-winning Barden Gazette. Take control of your own life.
By Aubrey Posen
âWhat a fucking bitch!â
âBeca. Not cool.â Cynthia Rose frowned at her from the desk across the small office. She swore all the time, but she didnât tend to appreciate when people called women bitches for malignant reasons.
âThis calls for some fucking profanity, dude. Look at this.â Beca stood up, snatching up the paper she had just angrily tossed onto her desk and stalked over to her friend, throwing it down in front of her. The small brunette waited with a deep scowl etched onto her face, tapping her fingers against her thigh as she watched Cynthia Rose skim the article on the front page.
âShit,â Cynthia Roseâs eyebrows raised in surprise. âThis feelsâŠuncalled for.â
âI canât believe sheâs starting this again. We had a truce. Where the fuck does she get off?â
âProbably at her typewriter,â Amy sang from the corner of the room, where she was busy scouting the internet for some fresh talent. Or so she said, but her friends knew that was simply code for online shopping.
âThis is low. Even for her.â Beca fumed, grabbing the paper again and skimming until she found the right quote. âI mean, she basically called me a ridiculous liar who canât write an assignment on my own. What the fuck?â
âItâs a lot,â Cynthia Rose said.
âItâs fucked up. Iâm not standing for this. She thinks just because she controls that fuckass gazette that she should control the minds of everyone at Barden.â
âThey get more readership than we do.â Amy mumbled.
Everyone turned to her incredulously, as if she was poking the bear. Beca glared daggers at her across the room.
âWeâre a specialist journal!â Beca snapped. âOf course the gazette which publishes boring ass shit about the new paint in the Chemistry lab gets more readership than a journal aimed at one group of the student demographic!â
âDidnât you write that everyone listens to music, so everyone should care to read about itâŠâ
âShut up, Jesse.â Beca shifted her glare to the boy reading a sappy fiction novel in the bay window.
âWhy donât we justâŠgo over to the Gazette and talk this out with Aubrey?â Benji asked gently. He was seated next to his boyfriend, being the only other person in the room actually working on the layout of their next issue.
âIf I see that fuckerâs face I will punch it in.â Beca growled, scrunching the paper up in her hands and throwing it aside. She needed to get out of there, right now. It didnât help that her friends werenât as angry as she was. It made her feel like she was overreacting. She tore her jacket from her desk chair and stalked out. âBe back later.â
The journalists were silent for some moments after Beca left.
âYeesh,â Amy said, trying to diffuse the tension. âHasnât it been like, a whole semester of their truce? I thought sheâd be kinda over it by now,â
Cynthia Rose shook her head immediately. âItâs too deep for that. You know they went to the same high school.â
âI actually cannot imagine what Beca and Aubrey wouldâve been like in school.â Benji looked uncomfortable. âTheyâre at each otherâs throats now without all the high school stuff to deal with.â
âI bet they were homoerotic.â Jesse said, making Amy bark out a laugh and Benji stare at him in surprise. âWhat? You think two gay girls on the same newspaper was wholly platonic? Why do you think they hate each other so much??â
âNah, youâre right,â Cynthia Rose nodded, leaning back in her swivel chair. âIâve been thinking that. I mean, no one else gets B so riled up. And she claims to hate half the people here.â
âThereâs a fine line between love and hate,â Amy grinned. âAre you all thinking what Iâm thinking?â
âWe are never thinking what youâre thinking.â Jesse gave her a pointed, but amused, look.
âDuh! Get them together!â
âHell no.â
âI donât know about thatâŠâ
Jesse spluttered, âyou want us to get in the middle of the crossfire? Are you out of your mind??â
âAwh, come on, itâll be just like that movie! With the ginger twins!â
âThe Parent Trap? Thatâs a pretty good movie,â Benji perked up.
Jesse turned to his boyfriend with a disapproving glare. âPretty good? Benj, that film is a masterpiece. Itâs right up there with Ferris Bueller.â
âDebate your movie preferences at the movie journal.â Cynthia Rose said, not wanting to have to hear yet another spat between the boys about the colour grading of one scene out of an entire film. âAmes. Meddling is fun but this shit is too deep to meddle with.â
âThe parents in the parent trap had literal twins across the ocean. That was deeper than a potential high school breakup,â Jesse pointed out. âIâm in. Beca needs to get laid, anyway.â
âShe never wants to date any of the girls who hit on her. Maybe sheâs saving herself for a special blonde someone,â Amy waggled her eyebrows.
âHow do you propose we do this, Amy?â Cynthia Rose sighed. âIâm not agreeing. Just curious.â
Amy stood up and paced for a moment, biding her time as she made an exaggerated thinking face. The other three watched her in anticipation. Eventually, she clapped her hands together and grinned. âWe need to infiltrate the gazette.â
âThe gazette would never let us inside their office.â Cynthia Rose shot back immediately.
âI donât mean literally. We need to talk to someone on the paper. Boytoys. Which one of you has a class with that fashion editor? Stella?â
âYou mean Stacie? Sheâs in my labs,â Benji said cautiously. âBut Iâm not really that close with herâŠshe also does astrophysics. And I look at 3d models, so itâs not really compatible-â
âApples I donât need to know your life story.â Amy rolled her eyes. âOkay. Try and get the downlow from Stacie on what Aubreyâs like. If she ever talks about Beca. You knowâŠâ
âWhy would she tell me? She knows Iâm from our journal.â
âBribe.â Cynthia Rose shrugged. âObviously. Offer her something.â
 Benjiâs eyes lit up. âOh, I could show her-â
âNot magic.â Three voices chorused, making the curly haired boy blush lightly.
âSorry,â Jesse chuckled, nudging him.
âWe need a backup plan.â Amy continued. âBecause no offence, Apples, but I donât trust you to complete this mission.â
âThatâs fair.â Benji said quietly.
âCynthia Rose. Youâre in charge of online stalking.â
âI never said I was in.â Cynthia Rose huffed.
âDonât give me that bullcrap, like you donât want to get people off your back about how you and chief should be an item.â
âWhy do people think all lesbians are in love with each other!?â Cynthia Rose slammed a hand down against her desk. She and Beca were best friends, but that was all. She hated the insinuation that they were more, especially when she was in a perfectly loving long distance relationship with a girl from her hometown. âFine. Iâm in.â
âIn for what?â
The four of them nearly jumped out of their skin at the sound of Becaâs voice wafting in from the hallway. Seconds later, Beca appeared with an iced coffee, looking decidedly calmer than before, but still frowning. She shrugged her jacket off and threw it to the side, revealing a vintage Lauryn Hill hoodie which she hadnât been wearing earlier. She pushed her headphones off and walked back over to her desk, before eyeing her unusually quiet friends. âIn for what?â she repeated herself.
âSushi.â Benji panicked. âAnd-and fries.â
âSushi and fries?â Beca asked, her mouth forming a disgusted line. âWhat?â
âWeâre hungry.â Amy nodded. âI want fries. Benj wants sushi. Jesse suggested both. CRâs in. You in?â
âWe havenât done any of the lay in. I know you dopes havenât been working whilst I was gone. And youâre talking about food?â She narrowed her eyes at them. Beca loved to slack off when she felt it appropriate. But she wasnât in the mood today. Especially not after the barrage of insults the pristinely perfect Posen threw at her in the paper today. Posen with her big team of journalists and editors, ultra-organised.
âItâs not due to publish for another three days.â Amy whined. âCome on, Bec,â
âNo!â Beca snapped. She tugged her laptop out of her backpack and grabbed her headphones again. âDonât disturb me unless youâre dying.â
Once they were sure Beca was lost in her computer and listening to music loud enough to blare them all out (they could hear it bleeding from her headphones), Jesse turned to Amy dully.
âGreat. Now sheâs mad at us too.â
âDonât blame me, blame your boyfriend!"
#lgbtkendricks#pitch perfect#beca mitchell#anna kendrick#aubrey posen#mitchsen#mitchsen fanfiction#pitch perfect fanfiction#aubrey posen fanfiction#pitch perfect fanfic#fanfiction#mitchsen fic#pitch perfect fic#adorkabealekendrick#student journalism au#student journalism#journalism au#au#barden university#humor#romance#taylor swift#meddling friends#fat amy#cynthia rose#jesse swanson#beca x aubrey#benji applebaum#stacie conrad#chloe beale
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Down South pt 2
Chloe
"Quick get him on the table."
Chloe tossed a sheet over the wooden trestle table they usually shared meals together at. Guillome was pale and listless from pain and blood loss and she wasn't entirely sure she could help him. Beca and Stacie wrangled the tall man onto the table and backed away so she could work.
"Guillome? Can you hear me?"
His eyes were closed but she could tell he was on the cusp of awareness. Chloe gave him a few sharp slaps until he roused enough to blink blearily at her.
"Hey there fella. You've been beat to hell it looks like."
He gave a weak nod of understanding and she gave him a tight lipped smile. Chloe turned to ask that one of the girls bring in water but Aubrey was already at her side with a full bucket and a basin.
"Thanks, love."
While the blonde filled the basin for her she took the time to take a pair of shears to Mr. Beauchamp's best pressed shirt. He must have been visiting Kat. Another thought that weighed heavily on her mind.
If he was here in this state, what must the people of the town be suffering? Kat wouldnât leave her cantina no matter who blew into town. She had run once but since coming to Mexico, Kat had dug her heels in firmly with no intent to ever leave or be run off again. Chloe shook her head and focused on the task before her. The cool well water felt good on her hands as she rinsed them off.
"I'm going to need help. Beca, Stacie, hold him steady. This is gonna hurt something awful."
There was a lot of work to be done and she didn't like the way the bones of his forearm had broken through the skin. Chloe took a deep steadying breath and set herself to the business of fixing their friend and Kat's sometimes paramour.
"Think he'll be able to tell us something?"
Chloe shook her head at Stacieâs question as she carefully pulled and rotated the bones back in place with a grinding crunch. He'd be damn lucky if it healed at all let alone good as it was. Guillome screamed in pain and writhed against their strong grip until he slumped back against the table, out cold. She shook her head again unsure if he would be able to tell them much of anything. It would be better if he rested.
"I think we already know enough, Stace. If they aren't on our land already they soon will be."
They all stopped to look at Beca who shrugged and looked down at the barely conscious man on their table. Her words caused a stone to plummet to Chloeâs guts.
"They beat him bad. Real bad. But someone put him on that horse. A horse with a brand I donât recognize. Looks like two crooked letters in a star, except one of them is backward. It looks fresh tooâ
Silver Star Ranch. Chloe felt the world shift uncomfortably. That was impossible. She raised shadow filled eyes to the blonde and swallowed hard. It couldnât be. Beca was mistaken.
Aubrey set the basin down on the edge of the table and silently walked to the corner to pick up her rifle. She alone understood Chloeâs sudden fear. Stacie started to follow her up the stairs to the bedrooms but Aubrey stopped her with a hand gently cupped to the taller woman's face.
"I'm just going up to have a look. If they're coming I want to know from what direction."
"You gonna be okay up there alone?"
Aubrey smiled sweetly and leaned forward to kiss Stacie with as much softness as she held her face. Chloe tore her eyes from the pair to give them some privacy while she worked. She couldn't blame Stacie's trepidation. It was hard for any of them to let the blonde out of their sights. Those long days of worrying if Aubrey would heal whole or not had scarred and haunted them all.
"It's trespassers that gotta worry, Stace. I'll put a hole in them long before they see me."
Beca didn't even try to hide the darkly amused smile at the thought. Chloe was absolutely sure the tiny woman was itching for a fight. None of them wanted to give up the peace they had found here in the home they were building together. But neither had they been so foolish as to believe they would never need to ride into danger again.
"Hey Cowgirl, how about you go grab those blankets of ours and dunk them in the trough outside in case they get the smart idea to try and burn us out?"
"Beautiful and brilliant."
She gave Beca a wink as the shorter woman sped off and waved Stacie over to help. Chloe was just as eager to strap on her rig to help defend their home but she wouldnât do it until their friend was as stable as they could get him. Stacie worked quickly to clean up the blood still oozing from several open wounds while Chloe worked to clear and close as many as she could. She never imagined all those years of having to stitch up her brothers before their mother saw them all banged up after one brawl or another would be so handy now.
âWho do you think did this, Chlo?â
That was hard to say. It wouldnât be the Army, not this far south. Might be banditos, they had a couple of nomadic gangs in the area. Mostly horse rustlers with a healthy respect for the town. Or at least respect enough not to cause too much grief for anyone but Kat when they got a little too drunk at her cantina. No, this felt a little bit heavier than that. Guillome was hurt in a way that was meant to make a statement. Not a dust up over a spilled drink and a pretty girl.
âIf I have to guess? Bounty hunters."
Or worse. Pinkertons. She didn't have to say it. Just the thought of them brought a tingle of fear to the room. Pinkerton men were brutal and vicious. They weren't just law men, they were worse. They were true believers.
Not in God of course. But in the power of man. The power a man had granted them to do unspeakable things to ensure order in the chaos of a wild and growing country. They would do anything in any way they could to achieve what they believed was for the greater good.
Including rousting a family of emigrant Irish farmers from their beds in the middle of the night and burning their ranch to the ground to make way for the train and progress of the people. She would never forget the fear and despair of that night. That was the night she had decided the law no longer applied to her. And she had been spitting in its eye ever since.
For just a moment she heard the roar of fire consuming the walls around her and felt the heat of flames licking at her skin as her eldest brother, Cole, pitched her right through the bedroom window into mama's garden below. It wasnât the softest landing but it had saved her life.
Chloe shook off the thought and snipped the end of her thread savagely with her shears. If Pinks were here they were in big trouble. It meant they weren't bringing the girls back for trial.
"Riders. Half broke off from the pack to go around back. A dozen in total."
Beca burst through the front door dragging wet blankets and all the linens they had. She frowned and dropped them in a pile by the door at hearing Aubrey's news from the top of the stairs.
"That hardly seems fair. Only twelve of them for all four of us.â Beca made a stink face and kicked at the pile with a leather moccasin clad foot. âI thought we were actually gonna have a scuffle. Aubreyâs gonna have them so full of holes before they get here I wonât even get to play.â
âIâll save you a few, Bec.â
Chloe chuckled as Becaâs expression went from cloudy to bright as she ran to the foot of the stairs and shouted back up.
âI could kiss you for that, Aubrey Posen.â
There was only a quietly amused grunt from above. Stacie shook her head with a smile and dumped the bloodied water out the back door. She gave the basin a rinse and refilled it so Chloe could clean her hands before touching anything else. Beca bumped her shoulder lightly with her own and surveyed Chloeâs work.
âWeâre gonna have to stash him somewhere.â
âWeâre not gonna have time to get him upstairs before they get here and if thereâs a fireâŠâ
Theyâd never get him back down before they all burned to death. Beca nodded off the rest of Stacieâs comment and scuffed her foot lightly at the floor. The edge of a rough woven rug flipped up to reveal the dry timber floor they had laid down together.
âHelp me pry out these boards, willa ya?â
âBeca Mitchell youâll NOT be prying up my kitchen floors!â
Beca blinked once at her before looking around startled. When she didnât see the apparition she was looking for she heaved a sigh of relief.
âThought your Ma was here for a second.â
Chloeâs eyes widened and Stacie knew better than to even let out a hiss of a laugh from behind clenched teeth. Bright blue eyes bored into Beca who shivered and shrank in on herself.
âI mean Iâll leave them if you want him to get shot to hell when they get up hereâŠâ She paused to consider then sweetened the deal. âI promise to dig you that root cellar in there for all your herbs and stores and whatnot.â
âAye, and this one will help you!â
Chloe sighed and jerked her head in tight agreement. She couldnât bear to watch Stacie and Beca rip up the floor. Maybe she really was turning into her mother now that she had settled some in her life. Chloe certainly sounded an awful lot like Cerridwen when she was good and fired up. She shrugged and crept up the stairs to find Aubrey, she should be so lucky to be as strong as passionate a person as her mama.
The blonde was crouched near the window in her bedroom watching patiently for someone to get close enough. Aubrey pulled back her hair into a neat bun and lowered her head to gaze back down the length of her barrel without glancing toward Chloe.
âThey here yet?â
âJust about. Can you see them yet out your bedroom window?â
Chloe trotted the few steps down the short hall and looked out at the south facing window. A handful of them had just dismounted and were cautiously scanning the area, creeping forward with rifles drawn. Still too far to shoot at but not quite far enough to make her comfortable. The redhead knelt by the foot of the bed she shared with Beca and raised the lid on the cedar chest her father had hand carved for her mother in Ireland. She took her well oiled rig and strapped it low on her hips. The weight of the heavy leather and steel felt comforting, familiar.
It had been awhile but her body remembered each movement without thought as she drew both pistols and gave them a smooth and practiced twirl before sliding neatly in their holsters. She raised the rifle from its spot resting on a pair of long horns mounted on the wall and set herself to the task of loading it with ammo.
Chloe was more of a brawler than a shooter but sheâd taken every lesson Cole, Conner, Caleb, Christian, and Corwin taught her to heart and knew she could plug a man dead between the eyes if she needed to. Two rapid fire shots rang out from the next room over followed by a soft cackle.
A part of her winced at breaking out a small pane of glass to shoot out of but she rested the barrel of the rifle on the window sill and sighted down its length. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she found her mark. She inhaled slowly and tightened her finger around the trigger, squeezing smoothly on the exhale. The manâs body dropped an entire breath later, dirt rising in a cloud where he hit the ground. The men around him spread out, but didnât creep any closer. They didnât have to. If they were in range, so was she.
She tucked herself down low behind the cover of the wall and the heavy dresser propped against it as their shots rang out and shattered the rest of the window. Footsteps rushed up the stairs and Beca burst into the room to throw herself over Chloeâs body protectively. They could barely hear each other over the ringing aftermath of the shooting but Chloe was fixated on the soft curve of Becaâs lips as they moved with the words she was shouting.
âYeahâŠyeah Iâm okay, Bec. Put one of them down and they took exception. Where's Stacie?"
Chloe could hear the sounds of reloading and tossed the rifle to her partner. She drew both guns and started firing at the men below. They scattered under their duel onslaught, scrambling for what cover they could find.
"Oh she's gonna greet our gentleman callers."
Beca shot a man just raising his rifle and snickered. Chloe raised her brows at that. Well that sounded damned suspicious and if she knew Stacie at all whatever she had planned would be wild.
"Of course she is. I hope she shows them our Southern hospitality."
#maus writes#pitch perfect fanfic#pitch perfect au#aubrey posen#chloe beale#beca mitchell#stacie conrad#wild west au
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merry christmas, merry christmas (but i think iâll miss this one this year)
Words: 1907
Summary: Chloe isnât going home for Christmas, and her aim is to make it to the 25th without the Bellas finding out.
Notes: Merry Pitchmas @psychoteacher90, Iâm your secret santa! So, confession time - I misread the initial message and thought youâd said you like a little angst sprinkled in with your fluff, but after I re-read it last night I realised it said you could tolerate it⊠I hope you like this anyway, and next year Iâm definitely going to read the message more than once đ
Read on AO3
@merry-pitchmas
-
âHey, when are you going home for Christmas?â
The question caught Chloe off guard. Not because she wasnât expecting it, she just wasnât expecting it so early into December.Â
She thought sheâd have more time to come up with an answer. A lie that wouldnât result in further questions.Â
But she didnât get that time. Beca asked her on the first weekend of December while eating toast with one hand and scrolling through her phone with the other.Â
âOh, I dunno yet,â Chloe replied, trying to sound casual. âWhy?â
Beca shrugged. âJust wondering.âÂ
Chloe thought about maybe telling her the truth. The Bellasâ house was quiet for once, with the rest of the girls either still in bed, or out, or home for the weekend.Â
Now would be as good a time as any.Â
She opened her mouth to speak but shut it just as quickly.Â
No, not now.Â
Besides, she didnât usually go home until a few days before Christmas Eve. Anything could happen between now and then.Â
-
Beca asked again a few weeks later, a scowl on her face as she squinted at her phone.
âDo you know when youâre leaving for Christmas yet?â She asked. âIâm trying to organise the Bellaâs Christmas party, and no one is free on the same night. Since when were a capella nerds so popular?â
Chloe couldnât help but smile and roll her eyes as she pulled Becaâs phone out of her hand.Â
âYouâll give yourself a headache,â she said, looking down at their shared calendar. Chloe had completely forgotten all about their Christmas party, which was especially surprising since she was the one who had organised it for the past few years.
It was true, there was no night that was free. Each square ticking down to December 25th contained a coloured dot representing at least one of the Bellas and their plan for that day.
Chloe noticed her own baby blue dot was the only one absent. There were no Christmas market trips, or festive nights out with classmates, or neighbourhood carolling.Â
She hadnât been feeling particularly Christmassy this year.
âI guess we just skip it this year,â Chloe said, handing Beca back her phone.
Beca raised her eyebrows. âSkip it?â
Chloe shrugged. âI donât see any other option, everyone is busy.â
Beca shook her head and looked back at her phone. âYou love the Christmas party. Iâll figure it out. Even if we have it at 2 pm on a Tuesday.â
âI wouldnât stress about it,â Chloe said, standing up from the sofa and grabbing their dishes from the coffee table. âIt isnât important.â
âYou didnât answer my question by the way,â Beca asked, looking up from her phone as Chloe stood. âWhen are you going to your parents?â
Iâm not.Â
âI donât know yet.â
-
Their Christmas party never happened, but Chloe didnât notice. Or, at least, she pretended not to.
She had been trying to spend the majority of her December trying to pretend that the holiday didnât exist.
When the Bellas had decorated the tree, Chloe had been hiding in the library.
When they made gingerbread houses, she went to the gym.
When they got drunk on Amyâs mulled wine, sheâd been studying in her room, ignoring Becaâs repeated attempts to get her to join them.
For the amount of time Chloe had spent trying to avoid Christmas, Beca had spent double trying to get her involved.
Chloe couldnât blame her, she knew she wasnât herself, but she still couldnât bring herself to tell Beca the truth.Â
It would start a much bigger conversation that Chloe wasnât ready for. One sheâd never intended on having in the first place.
She kept it buried and tried to avoid Beca as much as she could for the next couple of days.
-
âAre you sure you donât need a ride to the airport?â Beca asked on the 23rd.Â
âIâm sure,â Chloe said. âYou were supposed to leave for your Dadâs like 20 minutes ago, youâll be late.â
Beca looked at her watch but still dithered. âYouâll text me when you land?â
âYes,â Chloe said. âGet out of here already.â
âJeez, Merry Christmas to you too,â Beca said, giving Chloe a hug.Â
âMerry Christmas,â Chloe replied, trying not to hold on too tightly.Â
She needed Beca to leave, because if she didnât she might cry.
âSee you next year, I guess,â Beca said, ending their hug and grabbing her keys from the counter.Â
âDrive safe,â Chloe said.
Beca raised a hand in farewell before closing their door behind her.Â
Chloeâs tears fell quickly after.
She picked up her suitcase and carried it back to her room before dumping out the contents on her floor.Â
Her plan had worked.Â
She would make it through Christmas without anyone finding out sheâd spent it alone. Without anyone finding out why sheâd spent it alone.Â
-
Later that night there was a knock at the door which Chloe assumed was the pizza sheâd ordered.Â
She had assumed wrong.
Beca was standing on their doorstep, hands shoved into her pockets because sheâd forgotten her gloves.
Chloe could only stare back, mouth slightly agape. She swallowed. She could still get out of this.Â
âForget your keys or something?â
âYou arenât going to Florida.â It wasnât a question, and Chloe couldnât argue. She was standing there in her pyjamas after all. Her hair up in a towel, face scrubbed of makeup. It was hours after her supposed flight was supposed to have taken off.
âWhat are you doing here?â Chloe asked, her shoulders dropping.Â
âI could ask you the same question.â
Chloe sighed and stood aside so Beca could come in. âFine,â she said. âIâm not going to Florida. Your turn to answer.â
Beca tilted her head as if confused. âI came here for you,â she said. âYou arenât spending Christmas on your own.â Again, it wasnât a question.
âBeca-â
âLook, youâve been distant and sad since Thanksgiving, and Iâm guessing it has something to do with you not going home for Christmas,â Beca said. âAnd you donât have to tell me about it if you donât want to - and Iâm assuming you donât otherwise youâd have said something before now - but just because you arenât going home, doesnât mean you have to spend Christmas alone.â
Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off by another knock on the door, and this time it was the pizza guy.
âIâm fine,â Chloe said, returning from the door with her pizza. âI have pizza, and trashy movies, and wine. Iâve spent plenty of days by myself before, and this one wonât be any different. Itâs just a day, it doesnât mean anything.â
âI donât think you believe that,â Beca said. âBut, whatever, if you donât want to spend it with me thatâs fine.â Beca pulled out her phone. âBut you also have an invite from Jessica to spend it with her family, as well as Ashley, Flo, Legacy, Cynthia Rose, Amy, and Stacie also told me to tell you you could crash her and Aubreyâs Christmas plans. Also Lily offered too, but she also mentioned something about needing a sacrificial lamb, so maybe donât go to her place.â
Chloe laughed and shook her head, tears burning her eyes.
âEven if you canât go back to Florida, you can still spend Christmas with your family. Maybe not the one you were born into, but a one that loves you.â
âI donât want to impose-â
âChloe I had barely finished typing out my message to them, and all the Bellas were falling over themselves to invite you to their homes. Youâre not an imposition.â
âAnd you?â
âI said I had first dibs,â Beca said. âPlus, this way Iâll get to give you your present. I pulled your name in Secret Santa this year.â
âI didnât do Secret Santa,â Chloe responded, confused.
âFine, I pulled Legacy but I have a gift for you anyway.â Beca took hold of Chloeâs hands. âCome on,â she said. âSheila bought a turkey thatâs way too big, my dad needs someone to talk about books with, and I⊠I want to spend Christmas with you.â
Chloe pulled her teeth across her bottom lip before she eventually nodded her head.Â
They ate the pizza while Chloe changed and packed, and then they piled into the car for the short drive to Becaâs dadâs house.
âHow did you know that I wasnât going home?â
âYour flight didnât exist,â Beca replied. âAnd I just had a feeling that there was something you werenât telling me. You havenât been yourself.â
âI know,â Chloe said. âIâm sorry Iâve been so⊠Well, you know. I just didnât want to get into it.â
âYou still donât have to if you donât want to. But Iâm here to listen if you do.â
Chloe didnât respond right away. She rested her head against the passenger window and watched the flurry of snow begin to fall.Â
âI had a fight with my parents at Thanksgiving,â Chloe said.
Beca turned down the music, but didnât interrupt.
âThings have been tense with them for a while,â Chloe said. âIt all sort of boiled over. They overheard me on the phone to Aubrey⊠Heard me talk about stuff they didnât know about me and⊠Yeah. A lot of yelling later and I was, I mean disowned sounds so serious but I guess⊠I guess thatâs what it was.âÂ
Chloe tried to swallow the lump in her throat but it wouldnât budge.Â
She recognised where they were, and knew theyâd be entering Becaâs neighbourhood soon. She wanted to pull herself together before then.
âJesus,â Beca said, her voice just above a whisper. âI mean unless you were confessing to multiple murders on the phone to Aubrey, I donât-â
âI was telling her about someone I like. About⊠About a girl I like.â
âOh,â Beca said, glancing across the car. âThey didnât know?â
âNo,â Chloe said.Â
âIâm really sorry, Chloe. You⊠You donât deserve that. And they donât deserve you.â
Chloe sniffed. âI know.â They pulled into Becaâs drive but neither made a move to get out of the car. Chloe could see the glow of Christmas lights through the window, and she felt a pang of homesickness mixed with a rush of gratitude for Beca. âThank you for coming back for me.â
âI always will,â Beca said. âI hope you know how loved you are, Chloe.â
They sat in silence for a little while longer before Beca spoke again. âSo, thereâs a girl you like, huh? Anyone I know?â
Chloe laughed. âYou know, considering you were able to figure out I lied about going to Florida, you can be a little oblivious sometimes.â
âItâs that obvious? It canât be Stacie or Aubrey, or Jessica or Ashley. Is it Emily? Or Cynth-â
Becaâs voice died in her throat as Chloe pressed their lips together.
âOh.â
âI get it if you don-â
It was Chloeâs turn to be cut off as Beca pulled her back into a kiss.Â
They didnât break apart until they heard the front door of the house being pulled open.Â
Light from the hall spilled out into the driveway.
Becaâs Dad sighed. âSheila, I owe you 20 bucks!â He shouted before shutting the door again.
Chloe giggled, and Beca felt it in her chest.
âI guess we should go inside,â Chloe said.
âI guess we should. Merry Christmas, Chloe.â
âMerry Christmas, Beca.â
They kissed again.
#pitchmas 2024#merry pitchmas#pitchmas#secret santa#bechloe#bechloe fanfic#pitch perfect fanfiction#pitch perfect fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#beca mitchell#chloe beale#beca#chloe#pitch perfect#bechloe fanfiction#bechloe fic
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oh yeaaahhh angst here we go!!!!
loving you's worth all the scars: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64454074/chapters/165499525
Summary: âI want the entire world to know that youâre the beat that keeps the melody going.â
Back in New York, Beca and Chloe lived together in a small apartment and they were happy. Beca had dreams and Chloe was there. Chloe was her constant. Until she wasnât.
Three years later in Los Angeles, Beca is now a successful music artist. After a show, all too familiar red hair walks back into her dressing room. Tension builds and Beca is forced to deal with the aftermath of their break-up.
#pitch perfect#bechloe#beca mitchell#chloe beale#anna kendrick#brittany snow#ao3#writer#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#pitch perfect fanfic#bhloe
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a piece of my thanksgiving au even if thanksgiving has been and gone
Chloe hugs with her entire body, Beca realizes, wrapping whoever sheâs hugging in her arms tightly â sometimes she sways, almost all of the time sheâs standing on her tiptoes just like now, yellow socked toes digging into the floorboards. Chloe hugs like she could take your breath away in a single second, Beca doesnât need to hug her to know what that feels like.
#iâm just super !! obsessed with this particular part#my writing#pitch perfect#pitch perfect fic#anna kendrick#brittany snow#bechloe#bechloe fic#bechloe fanfic#bechloe fanfiction#pitch perfect fanfic#beca mitchell#chloe beale#beca mitchell x chloe beale#beca x chloe
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TRUST ME WITH YOUR HEART (I CAN FIX IT TOO)
Rating: T Chapter 34/35 Pairings: Bechloe Chapter Summary: In the first installment of this explosive two part finale, the threat to Barden Med's Emergency Department becomes all too real, with the fate of it's staff hanging in the balance
I have once again vastly underestimated my ability to ramble on in this au, so once again you have a shorter 6k chapter to tide you over before the final (I swear it's the last one this time) chapter comes out, and honestly, you know I love leaving you guys on a cliffhanger so... đ€·đ»
Also when you read this I want you to remember that I had all the major stuff bullet pointed on the whiteboard on my desk, in plain view as well, when we had some guy in the house/my room so he could give us a quote for a rewire and idk if he thinks I'm some kind of deranged lunatic or whatever, but yeah... would've been kinda hard to explain this properly dklfjgdklfjg
#pitch perfect#pitch perfect fanfic#pitch perfect edit#bechloe#bechloe fics#bechloe fanfic#beca mitchell#chloe beale#fanfiction#moodboard: bechloe#my fic#wip: tmwyh(icfit)
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Summary:
With Amy now a millionaire with a mansion, Beca and Chloe finally have the space in their shared apartment to bring some old clothes back in. But when a trip down memory lane has Chloe in some lingerie and Beca in her old Bella uniform, certain feelings may be tested.
Tags, Warnings, Rating, and Bingo Card are under the 'Keep Reading'.
Prompt: Post-Canon
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Pitch Perfect (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell Characters: Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Pitch Perfect 3, Chloe likes a girl in a uniform, Clothed Sex, Brief mentions of the terrible Chicago/Chloe relationship, Movie Hater Beca, Love Confessions
#pitch perfect#pitch perfect 3#Beca Mitchell#Chloe Beale#bechloe#pitch perfect fanfiction#pitch perfect fanfic#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#femslash feb bingo#post-canon
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people throw rocks at things that shine (mitchsen one-shot)
inspired by ours (taylor's version) by taylor swift. Beca and Aubrey finally go public with their relationship. Neither anticipate the reactions they receive.
read on ao3 here, or below
Aubrey Posen had not fiddled with her cardigan sleeve since she was a schoolgirl.
On the first day of school every year, without fail, she would come home and get told off by her mother for ruining the cardigan they had just bought. She would spend the entire day pulling at the threads, forcing them loose and making the sleeve unravel into an unruly, anxious mess. Sometimes she would bite at it once it was loose, eating away at the cardigan throughout class until it was damp, until she was forced to tug harder at the threads when the uncomfortableness of a damp sleeve became too much. It was the feeling of everybody giving her unwanted attention that caused it â asking too many questions, expecting her to be one way and being put off when she was another. It was the embarrassment of being able to tell when she wasnât suiting the other kidsâ standards of friendship, the anxiety that came with being the girl who tried too hard to be something she wasnât and knowing that sooner or later, the new kids who took interest in her would fade away with the understanding that she was boring. It was the knowledge that they spoke about her behind her back, questioning why she was so prim and proper, assuming she felt she was above them all because she couldnât understand them the way they understood each other. It wasnât until she started college that she stopped fiddling with her cardigans. That first day was the day she met Chloe. They swapped dorms to share together by the weekend, and the rest was history.
Today, howeverâŠtoday was the Monday morning after Aubrey and Beca finally went public with their relationship. Beca had posted a photo of them on Instagram from their 2-year anniversary a couple months back. It was raw and personal and attracted a lot of attention on Twitter and Instagram because Beca was usually anything but. It was a selfie Beca had taken, holding up Aubreyâs anniversary card in an envelope that read âhappy 2 years, alt girl.â Becaâs mouth was covered with the card, but her eyes were bright and happy and a little teary as she posed for the camera. Aubrey was hugging her from behind and grinning, resting her chin on Becaâs head. It was an adorable photo, one that was now standing in a frame in their living room. Beca had simply posted it without a caption before switching her phone off, taking a deep breath, and sitting back down on the sofa to continue their Love Island marathon. Â
So that happened, and it was all over the internet, and it was Monday at the office, a morning already gruelling enough what with the backlog of emails and excruciating small talk about what everyone got up to over the weekend. Her girlfriend was quite famous now. Since Beca began her solo career, she had skyrocketed into the charts, into winning her first Grammy, into being the subject of fan mail and fan accounts. Aubrey could not have been prouder of her. They had been careful to conceal their relationship from the public. Aubrey didnât want to jeopardise Becaâs rising popularity, and Beca didnât want Aubrey to have to deal with paparazzi or stalkers whilst she found her footing in the entertainment industry. But, in the two years they had been together and of Becaâs career â somehow managing to dissuade any relationship rumours â Aubrey herself had become quite successful as a lawyer. She was well respected at the firm, and whilst the blonde wasnât sure she would call them all her close friends, she did get along with them and often felt guilty about lying through her teeth whenever they would bring up how amazing Becaâs music was and how Aubrey used to be in the Bellas with her. Rather than gushing about her incredibly talented girlfriend, it would turn into gushing about their acapella days and pretending to wonder who the mystery person was that Beca dedicated her Grammy to and if that person was a friend or a lover.
It was pretty difficult.
Now, though, all that was behind her. Aubrey was sat in her parked car strangely excited for the day ahead. She would finally be able to speak freely about the love of her life, about how proud she was of Beca, how in awe she was of her always, and most importantly just how important the woman was to her.
It was only once she stood waiting for the elevator that her excitement began to fade and become overwhelmed with an unsettled feeling in her chest. She was stood next to Brandy, one of her co-workers who often mentioned Becaâs music and snuck her songs into playlists at office drinks. Brandy was someone who Aubrey assumed would have been most excited to see her this morning.
Brandy side-eyed her with a passive smile. âGood morning, Aubrey.â
âM-Morning,â Aubrey stuttered back in confusion. Brandy had never been so curt with her before.
She reached for her cardigan sleeve.
The elevator dinged. Brandy sniffed and waltzed right in, pressing the button a little too forcefully. Aubrey gulped and followed the woman in, smiling as warmly as she could at the rest of the people in the elevator. None of them looked particularly pleased to see her, either. She turned around to face the front as the elevator doors closed, entrapping them into the tiny space. Aubrey had never worried so extensively about what would happen if the elevator stopped before. The metal cuboid (death trap, more like) was silent. You could cut the tension with a knife.
Aubrey was going to the thirteenth floor. She wouldâve taken the stairs over this silence any day.
Her mindâs whirring substituted for the lack of conversation, unfortunately. She couldnât help but wonder whether they were unhappy with her lying, with her relationship, with her sexuality, with Becaâs, or all of the above. And Aubrey being Aubrey, she couldnât help but think the worst. It was like the first day of school all over again. She hadnât so much as addressed her sexuality in the workplace before. And now, she could be ostracised from the community she had managed to be accepted into, everyone else realising how she was untrustworthy or a liar or unfair. Should she have told them sooner and offered concert tickets? Should she have offered concert tickets when they all thought they were just teammates and good friends?? Why did she feel the need to buy these peopleâs acceptance? Her chest felt tight as she glanced quickly at the mirror, watching everyone stare vacantly at the back of her head, or her bag, or her shoes. If Beca had been there she would have whispered a joke about them in her ear and calmed her down with ease. But she wasnât, and they all looked as uncomfortable as Aubrey felt. Brandy especially was not only uncomfortable but clearly miffed. Aubrey didnât feel well all of a sudden.
The elevator dinged, making Aubrey jump and rip a little more of the thread out of her cardigan than she was supposed to. Brandy all but pushed past to stalk out of the elevator immediately, and Aubrey willed herself to follow, not knowing what would be awaiting her. She had to walk through the entire corridor to get to her office, passing the breakroom and several other peopleâs rooms. She kept her head straight and her face passive. If she showed a crumble in her resolve now, it would be obvious and it would define her post-public era for months to come. She could hear people whispering in the breakroom. This was worse than the first day of school. This time, she didnât just think that people were judging her, she knew they were. She needed to text Beca.
The whispering stopped as she walked past. She didnât look directly, but in her peripheral vision it seemed they were all gathered around someoneâs phone. Aubreyâs face felt hot. She had been so concerned about how their relationship being public would affect Beca and her career that she never even stopped to consider how it might affect her own. She passed another coworker in the hallway who didnât so much as bat an eyelash in her direction, purposefully staring straight ahead and avoiding her. Their firm regularly dealt with homophobia and gay rights in their legal cases. Aubrey wasnât sure what specifically was causing this icy atmosphere but it was really stressing her out and it wasnât even 9am yet. Her sleeve was unravelling faster than she cared to admit.
âGood morning, Aubrey,â Her assistant said cheerfully from their desk stationed outside her office.
Having half expected to walk past them with no obvious acknowledgement, Aubrey paused and smiled in relief. âGood morning, Sage. Any messages?â
They smiled supportively. âNoâŠnone about work.â
Aubrey reeled herself. âAnd about Beca?â
âThere were a couple of fan gifts and whatnot.â Sage cringed. âNothing major. Congratulations, by the way, boss.â
âThank you.â She let out a sigh of relief. Fan mail from the overzealous ones who had found out what firm she worked at was to be expected. She would probably be receiving things like that all week. âI think youâre the only person here who isnât annoyed at me right now.â
âWould you like me to talk to the office?â
âNo, no, I could never put that on you,â Aubrey said immediately. Â
She didnât notice that she had started to fiddle again with the cardigan until Sage cocked their head and looked pointedly at her wrist. âAre youâŠalright?â
âI-â the question hit her a little harder than she expected it to. For the first time in her professional career, she was uncertain of where she stood and how to fix this. She knew there shouldnât even be anything to fix, but there was, and if this hostile work environment was going to continue, she wasnât sure what her next steps should be. The panic rose in waves. âUmâŠâ
âIïżœïżœïżœll cancel your meetings for the morning. Say something came up.â Sage said, already typing something out on their laptop.
The lawyer smiled gratefully at them. âThank you.â She took her ponytail out of its hair tie before moving to lock herself into her office.
âAnd boss?â
Aubrey turned round to look at Sage questionably.
âThere will always be people with nothing else better to do with their lives who disapprove. For whatever reason. You and I both know that. Doesnât change anything.â
Feeling tears prickle at her eyes, Aubrey nodded at them. She didnât know what to say, so she hoped her actions later in the week would make up for the lack of communication. She didnât know Sage as well as Sage knew her, but they would probably love some time off at least. A gift, too. Right now, though, she needed to text her girlfriend. Once she got into her office she shut the door and locked it immediately, dropping her bag, kicking off her heels and falling into the sofa. Aubrey was fast to pull out her phone and head to the messages app.
Aubrey: Busy?
Beca: itâs 9am
Beca: no
Beca: whats up?
Aubrey: Sage cancelled my morning meetings because Iâm two seconds away from a breakdown so no.
Beca: what? what happened??
Aubrey: I donât know.
Beca: just anxious?
Aubrey: No, itâs just very hostile here. Everyoneâs being cold with me. I donât know why.
Beca: because of me?
Aubrey: I donât know for sure.
Beca: jesus fucking christ
Aubrey: Donât worry about it for now. Are you needed at the studio this morning?
Beca: yeah i have a meeting gonna make my way over there in a sec
Beca: its gonna be a long one baby im sorry
Aubrey: Done by lunch?
Beca: definitely
Aubrey: Iâll pick you up
Beca: okay cool
Beca: im really sorry im not free when you need me to be
Beca: i love you
Aubrey: I love you too, itâs fine.
Beca: dont type like that you sound mad
Aubrey: imnotmadbecs. Better?
Beca: i guess
Beca: dork
Beca: see you at lunch. watch glee in the meantime <3
The blonde smiled sweetly. She hadnât thought of distractions yet, but Beca knew sheâd need one this morning. She wasnât sure how Beca always knew. It wasnât the same for her whenever Beca wasnât herself. Partly because the brunette generally just put on a specific playlist that pretty much showed her girlfriend exactly how she was feeling and Aubrey simply waited until she was ready to talk, knowing not to push her too hard. They were opposites in that sense. Well, in many senses, but specifically that one. Aubrey always wanted to talk before anything else so she didnât end up bottling up and triggering nausea. Aubrey knew that was why Beca felt so bad about not being available. It sucked when their relationship suffered for less important necessities.
---
âShit.â Aubrey mumbled as she pulled up to Becaâs studio and noticed the paparazzi were stationed around the entrance. Beca would usually bring her in through the third secret entrance but if she even tried to meet the brunette there now it would show the paps where it was. Reaching for her big sunglasses in her glove compartment, Aubrey gulped before switching off the engine and getting out.
There were flashes going off immediately. It was almost amusing for Aubrey considering they hadnât known who she was in relation to Beca until two days ago. But she wasnât in the mood to be amused, or to be photographed, so she kept her head down and ignored the questions about their relationship and if it were true that they had eloped and all this crap she couldnât believe Beca would have to put up with every day from now on.
Aubrey made her way quickly to the front desk and took off her sunglasses, but she didnât even have to say a word before the receptionist buzzed her in with a smile.
âGo right ahead, Miss Posen,â
âOh, thank you,â she said quickly. Beca must have arranged for her to have full access on demand now that the news was out. It warmed her heart, the lengths her girlfriend went to.
It didnât take long to find Beca. She was in the studioâs common area, looking bored out of her mind as she listened to a conversation that was going on between a couple of her editor coworkers. When she saw Aubrey coming through, she jumped up and excused herself, striding over with a familiar, comforting grin. For the first time in hours, Aubrey felt the awful feeling in her chest begin to fade as her girlfriend opened her arms out and she rushed into them with a heavy sigh of relief.
âHi,â Beca said gently, loud enough only for Aubrey to hear, rubbing her back as Aubrey draped her arms round her waist and squeezed.
Becaâs heart dropped as she heard Aubreyâs deep, shaky breaths. The panic and upset was radiating off of her and the musician hated to see her like this, barely keeping herself together. Aubrey seemed overwhelmed more than anything else. Overwhelmed and scared. It hurt Beca even more knowing how put together Aubrey usually was. Not in an unhealthy way anymore, not like back in college, but she kept herself and her emotions in check with a careful schedule and routine, she allowed for spontaneity on the weekends - she rarely ever got to this stage about anything these days. Beca knew it must have been a bad start to the morning if Sage cancelled her meetings, but she hadnât anticipated it getting to this stage.
âIâm here, Bree,â she whispered. âAre you feeling okay?â
They both knew she meant physically rather than mentally. Aubrey took a moment to check in with herself, but eventually nodded.
âIâm fine,â she said softly.
Beca wasnât so sure. âDo you think youâll still be fine after food?â
âMhm.â
âOkay.â The shorter girl pulled back and tucked some strands of hair behind Aubreyâs ear, tiptoeing to give her a quick kiss before grabbing her hand, choosing not to comment on the state of Aubreyâs sleeve that she had clearly been pulling at all morning. It looked ruined beyond repair.
Aubrey put her sunglasses back on. âThe paps are outside. We have to go through the front, my carâs there,â
âNo,â Beca shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do was have Aubrey photographed now. âMineâs at the back. Weâll give your keys to security and ask him to park it there for now. Weâll get it later,â
---
Having successfully evaded the paps, they wound up eating sandwiches in their favourite secluded spot. A little hideaway in the middle of the park nearby that was completely concealed by foliage and trees. They often came there to watch the sunset, to have picnics or just to get away from life for a while. It was their secret spot.
After watching Aubrey silently eat her sandwich for a while, Beca nudged her slightly with her leg, putting her own sandwich bag down onto the blanket Beca had found in the boot of her car and laid out for them to sit on.
âWanna talk?â
Aubrey looked up at her kind, concerned eyes and nodded, putting her sandwich down too. She took a deep breath.
âI walked into work and- itâs so ridiculous, nothing even technically happened,â Beca sent her a disapproving look, which Aubrey ignored. âAnd I saw Brandy by the elevator. She was really cold. And judgemental. And the ride was so tense. It was oppressive. Everybody was hyperaware of me. I donât enjoy that kind of attention without intention.â
Beca noticed she was fiddling with her sleeve again.
âAnd everyone was in the breakroom whispering about us. I guess- I justâŠit was really nerve-wracking. I didnât expect anyone to disapprove of us. I knew they would care, but theyâre all fans of you anyway. I didnât think it would beâŠlike that. It was just too much without warning.â
Beca bit her lip, rubbing circles over the back of Aubreyâs hand. She felt terrible. âWhatâs on your mind?â
âI just told you.â
âNo, I mean, after all of that happened, what were you thinking all morning?â
âWorrying about what they thought of you, of me, of our relationship. Worrying that they hated me now because of it, or because Iâm a lesbian. Worrying that my work environment has been permanently altered and not knowing where to go from there. Worrying that this could develop into something worse. And if theyâll ever trust me again for lying to them.â
Beca moved so her legs were spread out and tugged Aubrey until she was lying down with her head in her lap and Beca could run her hands through her hair. âIâm so sorry. Fuck. I am so, so sorry baby.â
âItâs not your fault.â Aubrey shook her head.
âIt is. I should have prepared you.â
âBeca, what are you talking about? Of course I was prepared to go public.â
âYou werenât.â Beca frowned. âNot like I was. Not professionally. My publicist should have sat you down. IâŠI was prepped for every possible scenario. Stalkers, haters, whatever. None of them involved your work. I-I assumed people might be shocked. That was it. And your work is more important than mine.â She watched Aubrey open her mouth to interject and brought a finger to her girlfriendâs lips. âYour work is more important than mine, Bree. Thatâs a fact.â
Aubrey was quiet whilst Beca ruminated on how she could possible fix this. Her phone dinged and Aubrey reached for it. It was a Facebook messenger notification. Aubrey looked up at her questionably, but Beca merely shrugged so Aubrey unlocked her phone and clicked on it.
Alicia sent you a photo.
Alicia: so you can go public to the whole world with Audrey but you couldnât tell your mom about us? Iâm pretty pissed that I would be living life as the beca mitchellâs famous girlfriend right now if youâd had the balls. And to leave me for her?? Let me know when you realise you want a second chance.
âWell now I feel sick.â Aubrey said as they both stared at the message and a topless selfie where the blonde girl had applied too much lip gloss to grin impiously at the camera.
âWhat the fuck?â Beca scoffed as she took the phone and reread the message in disbelief.
Aubrey sounded even more dejected. âIs that your high school girlfriend?â
âYes.â Beca said with an exhausted sigh. âSort of. I donât really count barely getting along as girlfriends. Didnât even know she was on my Facebook.â
Her girlfriend was already feeling weak and embarrassed and hated enough without that message to be the straw that broke the camelâs back. To be crying over something so far deep in Becaâs past felt juvenile, and the last thing she wanted to do was appear like a jealous girlfriend when they both knew the brunette only had eyes for her. But damn it, she was strong all the time. And if she couldnât have off days in front of Beca then she couldnât have off days in front of herself. The sniffle and gasping breaths that Aubrey couldnât hold in alerted the singer from where she was in the process of blocking Alicia, and she dropped her phone immediately as she noticed the tears falling slowly down the side of Aubreyâs face.
âMy love.â Beca said sadly, cupping her cheeks and pressing an upside-down kiss to her lips. âI-Iâm not about to tell you not to cry butâŠbut look around. Look at where we are. This is our place. All ours. Itâs you and me and our place and our love. Nobody else is welcome here. Bree pleaseâŠdonât you worry your pretty little mind, okay? I-I know thatâs easier said than done but- shit, Aubrey.â There were tears threatening to fall from her own eyes now. Beca would never get used to seeing Aubrey cry. It always broke her heart. âPeople throw rocks at things that shine.â
Aubrey nodded, and her mouth upturned into a near-smile at the riddle. She loved it when Beca spoke in riddles and metaphors. It was a habit she picked up from her dad, and she did it without realising whenever she really, really meant something. It was a comfort to Aubrey because it always meant Beca was being her most honest and loving self.
Beca gently wiped the remaining tears off her girlfriendâs face as she continued speaking. âAndâŠlife makes love look hard. ButâŠbut our love isnât. Our life is gonna be rocky for a little while, I know that, you have no idea how sorry I am. Just a little while, while we navigate the publicity. But our love wonât be. Right? This place is ours, this love is ours, nobodyâs taking that away from us.â
Aubrey sat up and looked deeply into Becaâs eyes. What was usually an ocean blue had turned into a dark, misty midnight. Aubrey cupped Becaâs cheek and brought their heads together.
âHow do you do that?â Aubrey asked her.
âDo what?â
Aubrey pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back. âMake everything okay. Speak like that unrehearsed.â
Beca rolled her eyes. âYou do it too.â
âI do?â
âAubrey, youâre a lawyer. Come on.â
âItâs not the same.â Aubrey smiled gently.
âIt is totally the same.â
âYou were not like this in Barden. At all. Itâs not the same. What changed?â
Beca looked down a little shyly and shrugged. âStarted songwriting when we got together.â
Aubrey simply chuckled at Becaâs sudden bashfulness as if she hadnât heard and given notes of a dozen of Becaâs songs that she was still perfecting for her next, more personal album. âI love you, Becs.â
âLove you too,â
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