DO THIS PROMPT OHMYGOD: Person A patching up or changing the dressing on Person B’s severe burn wound with no anesthetic. Person B’s most effective pain reliever during the process is burying their face into Person A’s shoulder. YOU ARE VERY GOOD AT WRITING SOME COOL SHIT SO...
i literally only wrote one fic and an obscure drabble a few weeks back. get out. (edited: i seemed rude, but thank youuu i really appreciate it yeah?)
know I have to do this, right?”
you’d be gentle?”
I’ll do it slow.”
little but uhm, it would be worth it.”
lower lip protruded for a pout, her eyes morphing into that Disney princess
wide-eyed effect that would sometimes literally take Beca’s breathe away. Which
was rude because Chloe could maintain that look for more than 42 seconds, the
most time Beca could hold her breathe. So, totally impolite.
the height of their ‘crazy ideas’ phase in defeating Das Sound Machine, the
Bellas thought of employing fire in
their props because if DSM could pull off pyrotechnics and mesh outfits, then
they totally can too. Well, the mesh, they weren’t that keen except maybe for
Stacie. And Cynthia Rose, given she’s the only one who doesn’t get to wear it.
So in one unsanctioned Bella rehearsal, Lilly came in with two pairs of poi and
naturally, Chloe wanted to try it, while Jessica used the other.
through rehearsal, an accident happened with the strings that ended up with
Legacy fainting, Amy waving a fire extinguisher in the air like a war animal, and
Chloe acquiring a second-degree burn on the side of her right hand.
Another beautiful outfit for the beautiful birbhero6. By the way, did you guys know that it’s her birthday today? If you can, you should totally send her a birthday message because she is an absolute sweetheart and deserves to have a good day everyday, but especially today.
He's broken down and off to the chop shop, there's nothing else we could do that was humane.
“No….no, no, that’s not right. There’s got to be something you could do.” White gloved hands were holding the lapels of the unfortunate Cog to give her the news, unseen knuckles turning white. “Y-You could download him and put him in a new body! You could do that, I know you-” She felt a hand come to rest upon her shoulder, prompting her to look back. Arthur was there, expression upset, sympathetic…
“Miss Fancy, the Vice President was too badly damaged, it’s not an option.”
“He has to have a back up, though, right? He’s a boss, he has to have a back up-”
“Miss Fancy, stop. Please.”
“No! I won’t! There’s got to be-”
Her hands were wrenched free and she was spun around, hands catching her shoulders in a firm hold as Arthur knelt down. “Miss. Fancy. He. Is. Gone. If there was a humane method to bring him back, it would’ve been done. I know it hurts, I know, but there’s no way around it.”
Her expression was first surprise, and then a stubborn, failing attempt at keeping herself composed. Her bottom lip trembled, eyes glassy as she looked down and away. “It’s not fair.” She whispered, voice tremulous as a shiver settled in her shoulders and her hands clenched. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes and overflowed, the diluted black streaks of running mascara dragging down her freckled muzzle.
“I know it’s not.” Arthur gave her a gentle pull to convince her to come closer. At first she did not resist, but there was a sharp jerk as she pulled out of his hold and stepped back and away. “Miss Fancy, you-”
“I’m fine!” It was louder than she expected, harsher. She turned her back to him, arms subconsciously wrapping around herself to comfort herself as tears flowed freely and her body shuddered with quiet sobs. “I’m fine…”
“No, you’re not.” Arthur sighed, straightening up and moving closer. She was volatile, like a lit molotov ready to be thrown and set fire to whatever ended up being her target. He touched her shoulder, wincing at her reaction was to spin and strike. It didn’t hurt him, merely a ding in his torso metal if anything. She glared up at him with reddening eyes, her fist clenched still as she withdrew it. She didn’t register the pain securing its place in her hand now. “Miss Fancy, you need to calm down-”
“Who did it?”
“Which toons were responsible for the fall?”
“I don’t know- You don’t need this right now, Miss Fancy-!” He was caught off guard when his tie tightened unpleasantly around his throat as it was yanked so he was pulled and held down closer to the toon’s level.
“Tell. Me. Who. Did. It.” Grief. Sorrow. Rage. Pure, concentrated rage. Fangs were bared, ears were low. Feral looking, nothing like how she normally appeared.
“It’s not going to bring him back, Miss Fancy.” He was trying to reason with her. But anguish and anger were all too effective at blinding and deafening those shouldered with them.
“I know it won’t.” Her grip on the tie loosened to a degree, expression vaguely softening as another wave of tears fell from her eyes. “…But they took my boss and friend away…and I want them to suffer for it. And I W I L L make them suffer, whether you tell me or not I will HUNT THEM DOWN-”
She was dragged against his chest, encased in metal arms. She squirmed, but he would not budge. Eventually, she gave up. She sniffled and let her forehead fall against his chest, her hands clinging to his jacket like a child would cling to a parent in a search for comfort and making sure they’d stay there. Rage fizzled out for now, replaced by audible sobs. Arthur quietly hushed her, hand rhythmically patting her on the back as she gasped and cried and half-coherent threats and whimpers were murmured against his chest.
He didn’t have the heart to break it to her that the replacement for the boss would be there soon. She couldn’t handle that, not now….