I really don’t know where this came from but I just got this idea watching old family pictures and I made this manip in like..one hour so I know it’s pretty shit but bechloe feelings are still bechloe feelings right?
i need a bechloe rent!au where beca is the ivy league “anal retentive” lawyer while chloe is the starving “ambitious af” performance artist. where they fall in love, get engaged, fight during the engagement party; in front of the bohemians(the bellas obv), but work through their problems and get back together on halloween
i so need lucifer to initiate a hug with chloe, preferably when he’s so sad and broken and desperate for comfort and there she is, the new constant in his life who wants him as himself despite his intense self-loathing, and he desperately wraps his arms around her and sinks his face into the crook of her neck, letting hot tears run, and chloe whispers soothing words while rubbing gentle circles on his back and stroking his hair
Max was barely in the door of the Price household before she felt hands clasp around her waist from behind. She let out a pleasant squeak of surprise, knowing that Chloe was the perpetrator, and moved with the momentum that her girlfriend pressed upon her body. Max slammed against the garage door, letting out a small yelp of not-so-pleasant surprise until Chloe’s mouth was hungrily against hers. Instantly, her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, her endorphins kicking into instant over-drive with the tiniest provocation known to man.
“Door,” Max reminded her girlfriend carefully, lifting her hands and cupping either side of Chloe’s face as she kissed her, keeping their tempo fast but the pressure light. Max was still getting used to being able to kiss Chloe with this much abandonment, especially since they were able to get back into the Madsen household and actually start spending time there… Today they had ducked out of cleaning early, claiming to be sick, and went home immediately…
And thus, they were here now, alone in the house and kissing hard against each other. Max’s breathing got hard within a minute, panting broken up by the way that Chloe pressed her mouth against hers and whenever they switched the positions of their heads in order to deepen their kissing.
Max wasn’t experienced with this whole ‘making-out’ thing, but she could definitely get used to it.
I have a prompt for you. If you're still taking them. Uhm... Beca and Chloe are having a huge fight. Like, break up levels fight. The Bellas are worried and asked Aubrey to help fix them. Please and thanks! :)
They bicker. This is something that the Bellas grew accustomed to, because it was just part of the dynamic. Part of the ebb and flow that was Beca and Chloe. As much as they cuddled, throwing side-eyes to each other in the middle of rehearsals and growing incapable of separating their arms from one another, they’d shoot back and forth quick and hot bursts of arguments - over pizza toppings and musical choices and not having the laundry done. It was the soundtrack to their lives, the coo of their lovebird phases blended almost perfectly with the hissed bickering. And Stacie would look on with a smirk on her face, because “it, like, JUST became legal, but you two are legitimately an old married couple”. And Amy would plug her ears or cover Emily’s eyes while shouting something about “Mom and Dad always fighting”. So, they bicker, and it’s nothing unusual to the Bella household. But, packed together at the foot of the steps nervously and listening to the sounds of crashing and clashing coming from Beca and Amy’s room, they began to think this was more than a bicker.
This was a fight.
And Beca and Chloe, despite all their bickering - despite their harsh words and thrown out insults - never fought.
If they did, by anyone’s definition, then they never fought quite like this. Because Chloe is throwing things, and Beca and crying, and the shouts are louder than the walls can handle.
Her eyes shot open and she suddenly turned her head to the side, seeing Beca’s face inches away from her own. She breathed out a heavy sigh of relief, trying to ignore how her heart was pounding in her chest. The brunette then moved to rest her mouth beside her other ear and whispered, "The eggs are gross.”
She let out a soft breath when Beca moved her head to her other ear again, picking Chloe’s plate up.
“Try the pancakes.” Beca whispered, placing a different plate in front of Chloe. “They come with a cherry.”
She shot a small smile at Chloe, saying, “good morning” before turning around and walking away, leaving the redhead sitting at the table, trying to stop from smiling in her chair.“
A/N: I haven’t written fanfic in forever, but I love love love Archie and Chloe and wanted to explore them a little bit. Hope you enjoy :)
After Rae leads Finn out of the pub with a look of determination screwed on her face, and after Chop makes some half-cocked excuse as to why he and Izzy have to leave, Archie and Chloe are left alone at the table. Around them, the other regulars ebb and flow, and faces Archie has long associated with Friday Night at the Pub blur together. Archie’s on his sixth beer and Chloe’s on her third vodka tonic when he returns from the bar with their next round. Chloe smiles her thanks and knocks back half the glass in a single swallow. He thinks he should tell her to slow down, especially because he has no idea when she last ate, but she’s smiling for the first time in days, and he doesn’t have it in him to tell her to stop.
“All right, Chloe?” he asks, as she puts the glass back on the table.
She looks at him and giggles, giggles the way she did the night they first met, when Chop introduced her as, “this fit bird who came down to the shop last week.” Archie smiles ruefully back. “All right, Archie. Jus’ a long week, weren’t it?”
“Feels like the longest week of my whole life,” Archie agrees. He pulls a cigarette out of the carton in his pocket and then offers the box to her. Chloe shakes her head. He has a feeling she’s got no interest in being sober tonight. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
She shrugs, the noncommittal shrug she reserves for things that are monumental but that she can’t talk about right now. “You remind me of Atlas when you do that, you know? Atlas and Ayn Rand.“
Chloe looks at him blankly, probably trying to process what he’s just said through her alcoholic haze. “Who the fuck are ya talking ‘bout, Archie?”
“Atlas,” Archie repeated, “He was a titan in Greek mythology. He held the whole world on his shoulders. Ayn Rand wrote a book called Atlas Shrugged back in the fifties that was all about the importance of capitalism and why the Soviet Union sucks. She said if she ever got the chance to meet Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, she would tell him to shrug. When you shrug, you look like you’re straining beneath the weight of the world.”
He’s probably lost her, because she’s looking at him like he’s half out of his mind. But then she smiles real slow-like, and he’s got a feeling this is one of those smiles she reserves just for the Gang—one of those smiles where you can see the cracks just beneath the surface, if you’re looking hard enough.
“You’re definitely a bit off, Archie,” she says, after a moment, “but you’re pretty perfect, as well.” Then she collapses into a second fit of giggles, and Archie decides it’s time to take her home.
Before he takes her to her house, Archie brings them to his and takes her upstairs to sober up. His parents are still being weird about him being gay, and bringing Chloe round at half three in the morning is bound to cause even more confusion, but Archie knows what Chloe’s parents are like and he’s not about to give them any more of a reason to make Chloe feel like shit. He makes her coffee and offers her a shower, both of which she accepts passively. “I don’ need a shower, Archie,” she mumbles, as he pushes her into the bathroom. Never mind the fact that she smells like the inside of a distillery. She comes into his room about ten minutes later, looking a little bit more sober.
“I don’t have any clothes now,” she says, accepting the coffee mug with her free hand while the other holds up her towel. Archie nods towards large t-shirt and an odd looking pair of boxers on his bed.
“It’s the best I can do,” he says, as she eyes the pile. The t-shirt is black with KISS printed across the chest in bold, white letters. It used to be his dad’s, but Archie appropriated it for painting the windows last summer and has yet to give it back. The boxers are also black. They’re about three years old, so he’s assuming they’ll fit Chloe. Though looking at her collarbone he has a feeling she hasn’t eaten since before she ran away.
She smiles and hands him her coffee mug back. She pulls the t-shirt over her head, and drops the towel. If there were ever a litmus test for Archie’s sexuality, he’s pretty sure this would be it. He hands her the coffee back after she finishes pulling on the boxers. For a moment, they stand there, staring at each other. And then Chloe asks, “Do you think I’m a good person, Archie?” right before she starts crying.
Archie has never been good with crying girls. Even when his mom cries it makes him feel awkward. But Chloe’s sobbing outright and Rae’s probably getting sexed up, which means both she and Finn are out of commission. And most likely Izzy and Chop are doing the same thing. Which means there’s just good ol’ Uncle Archie to comfort their Chloe. He knows he can’t let them down.
“Chloe, I think you’re an amazing person,” he says, as he puts his arms around her and envelopes her in a hug, “I think you’re the best kind. It’s why you’re one of me best mates.”
“But I’m not funny, or smart, or sweet. I’m shit with advice and with talking. Nobody’s ever wanted me for anythin’ but my body.” Some of the words get swallowed by her attempts to stop crying, but Archie catches enough of what she’s saying to figure out the rest.
“I don’t really care about your body, Chloe,” he quips, pulling out of the hug to look her in the eye. “You’re right fit an’ all, but you’re not really my type.”
he laughs at that, not a drunken giggle, but a sound that sounds kind of broken and hopeful at the same time. “You don’t think I’m a bitch?” she asks, after a moment.
“Only sometimes,” he replies, smiling. She swats him half-heartedly and leans back into the hug. When she finally pulls back, he thinks some of the weight has fallen from her shoulders.
During the football match Finn begged him to come and watch, Archie is pointedly trying not to make eye-contact with anyone while also trying not to get pulled into Chloe and Rae’s conversation about who was the hottest player on the field. Rae, ever loyal, is firmly standing behind Finn on this, but Chloe has her eye on Ravi, who’s tripped over himself twice because he’s caught her watching him.
“What do you think, Archie?” Chloe asks, when Rae has yet again proven that Finn is better looking than Ravi. They both turn from in front of him to gage his response. Rae doesn’t look like she really cares one way or the other, but Chloe’s got that determined look on her face, and he has a feeling that he’ll be grading men one to ten by the end of the game.
“I think you’re both mental,” Archie quips.
Chloe shakes her head, “I’m serious, Archie. Who do you think is the fittest guy on the field right now?”
He feels like this means something. He feels like this is some kind of ritual which will cement not only his sexuality but Rae and Chloe’s acceptance of that sexuality as well. Like picking which guy he thinks is best looking somehow makes his abstract theory of being gay a flesh-and-bone reality. “I don’t know,” he tries, not sure he’s ready to take that plunge.
Rae goes to turn around, but Chloe puts her hand on Rae’s knee to stop her. “Archie, it ain’t that hard of a question.”
“All right.” He scans the field, but he already knows who he’s chosen. He’s had a crush on Tristan Hull since year ten, when Tristan moved here from Northampton. For his part, Tristan is probably the straightest man in the history of men. “Hull’s pretty good looking, I guess.” He tries to play it off, but Chloe’s smiling all the way to her eyes.
She looks pensive for a moment. “Yeah,” she says, like she’s passing judgment. “He’s fit. A bit too tall for me, but I guess he’d be the right size for you. Too bad he’s got a different girl every week.” And she flashes him one of her carefree grins before turning back to the game. Rae rolls her eyes before meeting his and they share a smile at the expense of Chloe’s off-hand remarks. Then she turns back to the match, her eyes following Finn’s ass up the field. Chloe, for her part, fixes her hair and rolls a tube of lip gloss over her lips—for the fifth time in less than an hour.
Archie leans back, glad to have the Gang back together again. After this, they’ll meet up with Izzy and Chop at the chippy and plan out the rest of Rae’s birthday celebration. Izzy will sit on Chop’s lap and Rae and Finn will pretend to pay attention while really having a secret conversation only the two of them will understand. Chloe will steal all of Archie’s chips and then complain that she’s eaten too much, and Rae will probably eat one of Finn’s and feel the exact same way. Izzy will giggle about something terrible Chop says, which will prompt him to say it out loud and cause them all to grown, and maybe that’ll be enough to make Chloe forget that Archie’s type is tall, blond, and athletic. Yeah, he’s definitely happy to have everyone back.
And yet, even though nothing’s changed, it all seems a bit different.