#first aid Splints

[cprsavers]

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[flowercrowncrip]

Talking of disability aids, I did get this cool spoon recently which you can use without any grip at all. It has a long handle which can be bent to fit on your arm and once you get it right it's really quite effective.

At the moment it lets me about half a meal without help (apart from putting it on) in certain situations with my arm supported, and I can even use it with my hand splints on

ID two photos showing an adaptive spoon with a long, curled grey handle. In the first Photo it’s is lying on a tray next to a bowl of rice and an adapted mug. In the second it's been around echos wrist while they eat rice sat in bed with their arm supported by a pillow / end ID

( the company I got it from it's called Active hands)

[seth-whumps]

How to Ignore Magical Healing

One of the things I encounter often in media or when writing is the existence of magic, and therefore healing spells. In most magic systems, it renders long-term whump, recovery, or even classic medical tending unnecessary, or just irrelevant. That can be discouraging and uninspiring at times.

We can’t all choose what world The Blorbo™ heralds from, so sometimes we get stuck with a universe that complicates the whump instinct. So, here are some prompts for avoiding magical healing in your whumping!

Wound-based

Prompts that prevent wounds from healing

It’s Just TOO Bad: Uh oh, the healing isn’t working because the wound itself is too bad to fix

Unnatural Origins: The healing isn’t working because the wound itself isn’t natural and so cannot be healed by magical means OR the whumpee is inhuman/the in-universe equivalent, and the magic doesn’t recognize them as something that can be healed (robots, aliens, vampires, etc)

Ailments: The Whumpee has a curse/illness (like the Malady effect in Metaphor: ReFantazio) preventing them from healing at all, so that ailment must be cured before they can heal up 

Prior Requirements: Something must be done before a healing spell can be cast (removing a bullet so it doesn’t fester, stitching the wound so it can heal smoothly)

Poison: The weapon was laced with a poison that, amongst its many effects, is preventing any healing magic from reaching the wound

Situation-based

Prompts to stop your party from casting because of the predicament they’re in

Exhaustion: The party is already at their limits, and they can’t afford another healing spell OR the party doesn’t want to spend anymore magic until it’s absolutely necessary OR The party has already used all of the items in their disposal that provide magical healing (like life stones in SMT)

Prevention: The party cannot reach Whumpee to heal them (barriers, cells, or perhaps the party is otherwise occupied by fighting?)

Dangerous Territory: If the party were to stop and heal Whumpee, they would waste precious time/make too much noise/put themselves in a bad place, so Whumpee has to make it a little further before they can fix the problem

Fear Response: Whumpee has prior poor experiences with magic or healing, and is refusing treatment for as long as they can hold out OR whumpee is magically convinced the party is going to hurt them (fear effects, brainwashing, feeblemind spell in D&D)

Magic Nullification: Magic isn’t allowed (a tournament) or possible (area of effect magic prevention) and the team must make do without

Universe-based

Prompts to engineer/alter the universal requirements to stop magical healing

Risky Measures: Healing spells rely on the wounded person’s energy. If a powerful spell is cast on a poorly off Whumpee, it could use the last of Whumpee’s energy, and kill them

Exchange Theory: Any pain healed on Whumpee is transferred to the person casting the healing spell OR the wound itself is transferred onto someone else

Fine Print: This particular healing spell requires a very specific item (like diamonds in resurrection for D&D) and the team has to find/buy it before they can heal the whumpee

It Just Hurts: Healing spells don’t include pain relief, so when casted, Whumpee can feel every part of their wounds healing (like bones readjusting or flesh stretching)

They Don’t Exist: Healing spells themselves don’t exist, and instead creative ways of wound care are invented like slowing down blood flow or encouraged immune system responses

Final notes

Something you can play with here is if the characters have never practiced first aid! Your caretakers might have no idea how to pack a wound or splint a fracture. Lots of mistakes and tension can grow from there.

Don’t be afraid to alter the universe you’re writing in. Fuck it up, really. There’s something enchanting about adding specific rules in a given world. Adding those requirements gives depth you can play in as a sandbox. Or you can throw the team into a completely different universe, if that’s your fancy!

And remember: you never need to write it realistically. Ignore the healing spells, throw the whumpee in a no-magic AU, hell, just take healing away from those specific people to prevent it–do whatever you want, whatever seems interesting, and have fun doing it. There’s no need to make it seamless. Make it bloody first.

Now, go beat the shit out of your blorbos. 

Love yall! 

- Seth

post dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[macgyvermedical]

Definitive Care for Writers

The following are things that could be believably taken care of completely outside of a hospital/without a doctor, listed by the caregiver's highest level of medical training:

With a "Lay" caregiver:

OTC Medications with labels that have instructions for use, like acetaminophen and/or ibuprofen for a headache/fever, antihistamines for minor allergies, etc..

Sunburn

Menstrual cramps

With someone who has first aid training:

Simple choking (Heimlich maneuver believably fixes this)

Small cuts, venous bleeding only (pressure to stop bleeding, washing with water and dressing is believable)

Opioid overdose (single drug, use of nasal naloxone and rescue breathing is believable as long as the person is monitored for several hours)

Heat exhaustion (get them out of the sun, give water)

With an urban EMT or Paramedic:

Uncomplicated childbirth (It's not fun to have a baby out of a hospital, but it can be done)

Uncomplicated seizure for someone who has a known seizure disorder (basically just need to time it and give emergency med if longer than 5 minutes, have it at least stop after the medication)

Fainting (if it's a 1-off thing with no injury)

Low blood sugar (sugar/food with carbohydrates fixes this within about 15 minutes)

With a Wilderness EMT:

Simple fractures, broken ribs, sprains, and strains (as long as the bone ends are well approximated, a splint during the healing process will do a "good enough" job fixing this)

Some dislocations (forward shoulder dislocation, patella dislocation, finger dislocations all can be believably reduced in the field)

Small wound closure (something like a cut or bullet graze that doesn't hit an artery)

Moderately-sized wounds without life-threatening bleeding (can be packed in the field and believably heal with daily care)

Hypothermia (warm the person up and give sweet warm liquids)

With a Registered Nurse:

Uncomplicated concussion (need to do assessments every 2 hours, have them come up normal)

Severe nausea and vomiting (needs timing of medication, sips of water)

Small skin infections and abscesses (treat-able with heat)

Viral Pneumonia (not requiring oxygen)

Malnutrition

Migraines (assessments needed to determine not a stroke)

[ashthesalamipiece]

Hey lovely! Could I request one of Izuku? Not sure if you write for him as well, but if not you can make it Katsuki! I was thinking nerdy Izuku falling for popular reader who's a cheerleader? I know it's cliché but I've been feeling very cliché lately >< Even though other guys try to get with her, she ends up falling for Izuku because he's not shallow and likes her for who she is. She accidently hurts her ankle during cheer practice, and Izuku is the one who shows up to help her and is there for her during her recovery, causing them to spend a lot of time together and getting together. Thank you 💖

“More Than Just a Cheer”

Pairing: Nerdy!Izuku Midoriya × Popular Cheerleader!Reader

Setting: Modern AU (No Quirks)

---

It wasn’t supposed to be Izuku.

You’d just finished the last move of a complicated cheer routine when your foot slipped off the damp grass, sending pain screaming up your ankle. The squad rushed around you in a panic. Your coach called for help, but it wasn’t one of the football players or your fellow cheerleaders who showed up.

It was Izuku Midoriya.

The quiet, notebook-clutching boy who sat three rows behind you in chemistry. The one you always caught scribbling about heroes during lunch, eyes lit up when he talked about rescue techniques or "maximum velocity in human sprints."

You barely noticed him at first. You had guys begging for your number, DM requests stacked like pancakes, and half the school thought you were dating someone on the football team. But Izuku? He wasn’t even trying to impress you.

He just saw you in pain and dropped everything to help.

“C-Can I take a look at it?” he asked gently, green eyes wide with concern. His hands hovered respectfully near your ankle.

You nodded, surprised by how steady he was. “You know first aid?”

He flushed but smiled. “Yeah. I, um, studied emergency care after I saw this documentary on high school athletic injuries.”

“…Of course you did,” you laughed, despite the pain.

Izuku splinted your ankle using his hoodie and his water bottle. He carried your bag, made sure you got to the nurse, and walked home with you afterward — even though it added twenty minutes to his own commute.

That was the beginning.

---

The recovery wasn’t fun.

You hated missing practice, hated sitting on the sidelines while the squad rehearsed without you.

But you didn’t hate the time you started spending with Izuku.

He came by every afternoon, sometimes with study guides, sometimes with snacks, and once with a handmade quiz game about biology terms that had you laughing so hard you forgot you were injured.

You learned that Izuku was kind, fiercely loyal, and smarter than anyone gave him credit for.

He learned that you were more than a “pretty face in a uniform.” You were ambitious. You dreamed of becoming a sports therapist. You’d been working on getting a scholarship since sophomore year. You hated being underestimated — and Izuku never underestimated you.

Sometimes he’d get flustered around you, especially when you leaned too close or laughed at his jokes. You liked that about him.

---

The confession came softly.

Not from him, surprisingly — but from you.

“Izuku?” you asked one day as you both sat on your porch steps, your crutches leaning against the railing.

He looked up from his notebook, blinking. “Yeah?”

You fidgeted. “Why do you hang out with me? Like, really?”

He tilted his head. “Because I like you.”

You smiled. “Yeah? Even though I’m, like, super cliché cheerleader material?”

He flushed. “You’re not a cliché to me. You’re… brilliant. Brave. You don’t just cheer for people — you lift them up, y’know? I’ve seen it. And you let me see you, too.”

Your heart squeezed.

You leaned in and kissed him — just a soft press of lips that tasted like lemon soda and daring.

---

The next game you cheered at, you spotted him in the stands.

Notebook in lap, green eyes shining, cheering louder than anyone.

Because while the school saw you as the girl who cheered for everyone… Izuku was the boy who had quietly, unshakably, always been cheering for you.

[alexthebordercollie]

I'm Here

“I've got you buddy.” Ford reassured. Huffing softly as he shifted Fiddleford's weight onto one arm. “You're gonna be fine.” Fidds was in no condition to walk. Ford had carried him all the way back to the cabin. 

Fiddleford yelped and whimpered fearfully when he felt Ford's other hand leave his body. Tightening his death grip around Ford's neck. “It's alright. I'm not going to drop you.” Ford reassured. He hoisted Fidds up a bit over his shoulder and did his best to unlock the door as quickly as he could. Pushing it open with his boot once he heard the click of the knob. He brought his hand to Fidd's back. Keys still hooked in his fingers as he rubbed little circles into Fidd's shirt.

“I've got you.” He breathed.

Fiddleford hugged Ford like his life depended on it. Shivering violently in his arms. His clothes torn, battered, bruised, filled with quills Ford desperately needed to remove. All of that paled in concern compared to the horrified thousand-yard stare Ford had been greeted with once the dust had settled. Fidds eyes were closed now. That seemed like an improvement. Maybe. At least Ford hoped it was.

He shuffled inside with the temporal displacement hyperdrive they needed slung over his other shoulder. The blasted thing better work. Its sudden alarm nearly got them killed. Not to mention all the supplies they lost. Left behind in the woods while Ford wrestled his friend back from that cursed beast. Oh well, what's done was done. They both made it home in one piece they got what they needed out of their expedition. A sloppy victory but a victory nonetheless. 

Ford carried Fidds upstairs to his room where he had the supplies he needed to a magic cure that should hopefully work for the gremloblin venom. At least he hope so. He knew less about this creature than he’d like and didn’t yet know the full effects of its toxins.

He gingerly draped Fiddlford across the couch Ford called his bed. “Fidds, I need you to let go.” He pleaded gently as Fiddleford clawed at his shoulders. Refusing to let go of his coat.

“No, no, no, no, no-” Fiddleford kept mumbling incoherently. He opened his eyes again. Looking up at Ford with a manic pain and desperation that felt like a dagger to the heart. His eyes still glowing faintly.

“Fiddleford, please.” Ford reiterated gently. Placing a hand over one of Fidds. “I need to go get the first aid kit.” And set the drive down, and close the door.

Fiddleford was still shaking. His chest heaved as he started back at Ford. His intense gaze seemed to scan Ford's eyes for something before he finally relented. Loosening his grip on Ford's coat enough for him to escape.

Ford wasn't sure what Fiddleford was looking for but he was glad he could provide it. Whatever it was. “I'll be right back.” He promised.

He slipped the hyperdrive off his shoulder and let it thunk heavily onto the floor. Flexing his aching shoulder once the weight was off him. He’d had to swipe a bit of rope from the barn they had crashed into so he could strap the piece of machinery to himself for the walk back. All in all, he wasn’t carrying much more weight than the travel supplies they had left with but the load hit differently after the day he’d had.

“Stay right there. I’ll only be gone a second.” Ford stressed before rushing out.

Fiddleford didn’t look keen on moving anytime soon. Curling up and facing away from him. Burring his face in the back of the futon and muttering incoherently to himself. That was probably not a good sign. None of this was good.

Ford rushed downstairs to slam the door shut and lock it before hurrying to the bathroom for first aid supplies. He kept splints and plaster on hand thankfully for breaks. Fiddelford’s arm was in bad shape. It had broken in the fall and the injury had only grown more obvious on the walk home as the bruises set in. Not that it stopped Fiddelford from gripping Ford like a drowning man at sea. The strain probably hadn’t done wonderful things for his injuries.

Ford grabbed what he needed and hurried back upstairs to his room. “Alright, let’s get you fixed up.” He tried to reassure his friend. Ford placed the first aid supplies on the end table by the couch and set to work.

The room was less a bedroom and more a study. Ford didn’t care much. He didn’t mind what he slept on and when he realized he’d invited Fiddleford over and forgotten to secure a proper bed for him he simply gave his old bedroom to Fidds. He barely used it anyway and his study worked just as well. Moreover, his study was filled with all manner of artifacts and samples Ford had collected. Hopefully, something in here could treat any lingering effects of the venom. 

Ford started first with removing the quills. Gently rolling Fiddleford back onto his back as he started pulling the quills out one by one. They had little hooked barbs on the end like a porcupine. Removing them made Fidds wince every time.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Ford kept reiterating everything Fiddleford flinched from his touch. 

Fidds skin was swollen and discolored from the quills. Every one oozed a mix of blood and puss on removal that Ford drained and cleaned with alcohol wipes. He’s scrubbed his hands thoroughly in the sink but still wore gloves just to be safe. The pinky kept threatening to rip on him from having two digits squeezed into it but there wasn’t much that could be done for it. He needed disposable gloves for this. He’d have to work on making his own latex gloves in the future.

Ford breathed a sigh of relief once the final quill was removed. Fidds was still shaking but seemed a little calmer. Still covered welts from the quills. Not to mention the mass of swollen blue and purple that had spread up his right arm from the break. It wasn’t the worst break Ford had ever seen, but still a nasty one. Stanley took the prize for that one. The memory of his brother’s tiba peeking out from the mass of mangled meat that was once his leg would haunt him forever. Pa made sure to take the cost of that hospital visit out of his hide. Ford learned a lot patching up his brother after that. He didn’t need hospitals. He could handle things himself. 

Ford got up to go search through his supplies. Rifling through drawers and cabinets for every healing tonic he knew of. He didn’t have anything that could mend a broken bone sadly but he did have some purifying water from a magical glave he’d found not long after his arrival in Gravity Falls. Unfortunately, the space disintegrated after he left and allegedly would only appear to a chosen few once in a lifetime. He was told this water could cure any poison though Ford had never tested it. He had a limited supply and couldn’t risk wasting it. 

He heard Fiddleford whimper softly behind him and turned back to look at his friend’s pale horrified expression. He had no idea what the grembloblin venom would do to him and the welts were turning a very concerning and sickly green color. If there was ever a time to use his magic cure it was now.

“Here, here, I’m back.” Ford reassured as he returned to the couch. He knelt back down on the floor again and snapped his fingers near Fiddleford’s face to try and get his attention. Trying to get his friend to look at him and show some sign of lucid thought.

Fiddleford choked like he was trying not to cry but didn’t turn his eyes. Only screwed them shut and gripped his chest. He was sweating despite feeling cold to the touch.

“It’s ok. This should help.” Ford assured him anyway. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll get you some painkillers once we’re done.” He promised.

Seeing the extent of the wounds Ford decided the best way to apply the cure was to soak strips of gauze in it and wrap Fiddlefords arms in them. Taking great care to pace out the healing water evenly and trying not to use more than he needed. Even still it took up the whole bottle. Thankfully the green pallor seemed to subside a bit as Ford worked. The swelling reduced. That was good. At least something was going right. Fiddleford’s clammy shivering seemed to improve as well. Thank god.

“Almost done.” Ford still got no clear responses from Fiddleford but he liked to think it helped at least a little. Letting his friend know how much there was left to go. 

He took great care when setting and casting Fidds broken arm. Trying his best not to cause any more pain than necessary. That said Fiddleford still seemed oddly numb to the pain. It was the only reason Ford didn’t give him the medication upfront. Fidds reactions were muted enough as is and he needed to know if he was hurting him. Pain was a useful tool for measuring the damage and identifying any less obvious wounds. Ford felt ashamed he was a little relieved to see Fidds hiss in pain as his bones were set. He didn’t like seeing him hurt but at least it was a natural reaction.  

“There, there we go, we’re done.” Ford held up his empty hands to show Fidds once the cast was set. Fidds still didn’t look at him or give any indication he processed what Ford was saying. Ford desperately wanted some kind of acknowledgment from his best friend. Even if it was just to yell at him for putting Fiddlford in danger in the first place. Literally, anything would be better than this.

Still, he steadied himself and peeled off his rubber gloves. He found his hands smeared with blood. He hadn’t even noticed his own wounds until now. Ford had cut up his hands shoving through thick brambles in pursuit of the gremloblin. More than his hands. His clothes were torn and bloodstained in places. All minor injuries though. He probably has some bruises from the crash but he wasn’t too concerned with them. He was overheated and sweating through his shirt though. He chucked his coat on the side table and peeled off his sweater vest and button down. Fanning himself briefly with his undershirt to try and cool off.

“Ok, aspirin.” Ford was talking to himself at this point. He knew Fidds wasn’t listening. At least talking helped him keep his thoughts clear. Ford got up to head back down to the bathroom for aspirin and a glass of water. Fiddleford might have been a bit numb now but he would be wanting those painkillers later once the shock wore off.

Ford was about to leave when he felt a tug on his pant leg. “NO! PLEASE!” 

Ford’s blood ran cold. He looked back at Fidds in stunned shock.

Fidds eyes were welling up with tears. Gripping Ford’s clothes with his good hand. “Please don’t go.” He begged. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” There was so much pain and desperation in his voice. Ford had never heard his friend sound so broken.

His heart ached. He pointed timidly towards the door. “Asprin.” He repeatedly meekly. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Please don’t leave me again.” Fiddleford choked. His voice cracking from the strain of some overwhelming fear. Something primal and beyond what Ford had ever seen.

“I-I won’t.” Ford promised. He returned to the couch and knelt down beside it. He took Fidds hands in his and tried to comfort him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He promised. He wasn’t much for comfort. He was never very good at it. Baring Stanley most people didn’t seem to take kindly to anything he had to say when tears were involved. Crying people scared him. Emotions were messy and complicated and he didn’t know what to do with them. Studying psychology could only get him so far.

Fidds was crying now. Some kind of dam had burst and he was properly crying. Gasping wheezing sobs. Dripping with saline and mucus. Redfaced as loud unflattering sounds escaped him.

Ford didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fix this. Poison he could cure, broken bones he could set. He didn’t know how to mend a broken soul.

“It’s ok.” Ford said it though he wasn’t confident he believed it. He hoped if he said it enough he could convince the both of them it was true. Whatever this emotional outburst was it was a side effect of the gremloblin. It would pass. Fidds just needed time to rest, to recover. He’d be alright. Ford had to keep telling himself that.

Ford lifted Fidd upright on the couch and crawled into the seat beside him. Supporting his friend by his shoulders as the wailing man struggled to hold himself upright.

“I’ve got you.” Ford reassured him. “I’m here.”

Ford stretched out on the narrow futon and pulled Fidds over top of him. Letting him rest on his chest and soak his shirt in his tears. He wrapped his arms around his friend protectively. Holding him close and resting his chin atop Fidds head. “I’m here.” He repeated. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Ford took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Focusing on his heartbeat and slowing it to a crawl. He held Fidds head, gently pressing his ear to his chest. Hoping the slow thump of his heart and the even rise and fall of his breathing would help soothe Fiddleford. It was a simple animalistic strategy but it was the only thing Ford could think to do. Slowly Fiddleford’s sobs began to wane. The shaking calmed. His tense body grew limp as he was lulled to sleep. 

Ford could feel the fatigue sinking into his bones as Fiddleford relaxed. He felt his own stress unwind. Felt the ache of his bruises and the sting of thorns. The rope burn on his shoulder. The cramping muscle pains of an overtaxed body. With Fiddleford sleeping on top of him it didn’t take long for Ford to follow suit.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Can you make a Part II to 'When your Character Needs Outdoor Survival Skills'? That post was an absolute treasure trove and useful to me! Maybe focusing on the problems/inconveniences the characters can encounter and the required skills needed for those specific problems while surviving in the woods/outdoors. If not, that's totally fine! Thank you anyway for all of the great work you do!

When your Character Needs Outdoor Survival Skills

Part 2: Survival Tools & Techniques. What to do if something goes wrong?

Wilderness Survival - describes ways to stay alive far from civilization and support. It may describe short-turn survival while awaiting rescue or long-term living choices made by people with few resources or a desire to live in a secluded area.

It involves adaptation and the ability to make the most of what is available.

Foraging for food, purifying water, and finding or creating shelter are among the most important survival skills.

IF YOU GET LOST. Stop, Think, Observe, Plan.

Stop. Sit down and stay put until the fear, anger, and/or frustration has gone away.

Think. Think through your situation: What do you have that can help you in this situation? Your mind is your greatest survival tool!

Observe. Observe your surroundings: Where should you stay? If you told someone where you were going, people might be searching for you. Is there an open area where searchers would have a better chance of seeing you?

Plan. Plan your action. In most cases, the priority should be: (a) Find or make shelter (b) Build a fire for heat (c) Signal to attract attention (d) Find water

WILDERNESS SURVIVAL. First Aid & Health

When traveling into the wilderness, it is important to carry a complete first aid kit. If an accident happens in the wilderness, it is your responsibility to deal with the situation. The following sequence of actions to remember when dealing with situations should be followed every time:

Remain calm.

Check the scene. What caused the accident? Are there dangers? How many victims?

Call for help. Know the location, description of injury, time of injury, treatment received, and number of people.

Approach safely. Look for dangers. Tell the victim your name.

Provide urgent treatment. Is the person conscious and breathing? Is there severe bleeding? Is there evidence of pills, chemicals, or other poisons?

Protect from further injury. Avoid moving someone who is injured unless it is impossible to perform urgent first aid or the person is in a dangerous location.

Treat every accident victim for shock.

Make a thorough examination. Look for other injuries that may be hidden and ask the victim questions if they are alert.

Plan a course of action. If help is on the way, keep the victim comfortable. If help will be delayed, decide on a clear course of action.

Safety & Protection Concerns. Include basic first aid training, shelter, and protection from dangers such as animal attacks.

Wounds should be kept clean.

Bandages, if necessary, may be improvised using clothing.

Fractures may be splinted using sticks and belts or shoelaces.

Many wild plants can be used as medicine, but only if one is knowledgeable of medicinal plants.

If one encounters animals, it is generally best to back away slowly.

Most animals avoid humans unless threatened or ill.

Acting Quickly. Assess victims and take action in limited-resource and sometimes dangerous environments.

Some of the steps to take in those first, crucial moments of an emergency.

10-second survey: Look at the victim. Assess breathing and pulse. Introduce yourself and ask for permission to treat. Ask for the victim’s name and cause of distress. If the victim can speak, the airway is not blocked.

Treat life-threatening injuries first: If the airway is blocked, clear it. Apply direct pressure to wounds. On extremities, use a tourniquet several inches above the injury.

Assess the scene. Are you or the victim in immediate danger? Threats could include fire, flood, bullets, traffic and wild animals.

Alert others. Ask people around you to help, giving specific instructions. Tell someone to call 911 or get more assistance.

Stabilize the cervical spine: Use or create a cervical collar, or place a hand on either side of the patient’s head.

Cover the victim: Hypothermia decreases blood flow and impairs blood clotting.

FIRE. Safely maintained, fire is an essential survival tool.

It can provide heat, discourage many animals, signal to rescuers, heat food, and boil water to purify it.

If fire gets out of hand, however, it can quickly become a danger.

Starting a Fire

Fire can be started using many methods to create a spark, such as a battery and some steel wool or wire.

First lay a forearm-sized log down as a base in an area cleared of flammable materials, and gather the items needed.

Use the spark to ignite tinder—dry fibrous material, such as dried grasses, cattail fluff, or birch bark—against the base log.

Stack kindling against the log, allowing air to flow around it.

Begin with toothpick-sized twigs, increasing the size of the kindling to Q-tip and pencil size, and then add larger sticks and branches until the fire is hot. Add larger logs.

Signal for Rescuers

To create a signal for rescuers, build a fire out in the open, so the smoke will rise up and be visible.

Once it is burning well, add green branches, such as pine boughs, to make a great deal of thick smoke.

One may also use a reflective surface or mirror to signal.

In the absence of a signal device, if a rescue plane or helicopter is visible, hold arms up and out, like a Y.

WATER. If water is available, it is safest to boil it to kill pathogens.

Sources of water that should be safe to drink without boiling include dew, rain, and snow.

To collect dew, soak as much as possible up with cloth, such as a bandana, and wring it out.

Water can be found in certain plants, such as maple trees, if they can be properly identified as safe and if one has a tool to cut a hole in the bark. Water can also be collected through transpiration.

One can enclose a leafy branch in a clear plastic bag and tie it tightly closed. Water will slowly condense inside the bag.

FINDING FOOD depends on knowledge.

Many plants are edible, but individuals must learn to identify them using a reliable guide.

Similar-looking plants could be deadly, so one should never eat anything unless completely certain of its identification.

Common forest foods include: acorns from oak trees, dandelion leaves, wild grapes, and pine nuts.

Protein from small creatures, such as fish and frogs, is usually more readily available than larger game, such as deer.

Fish, snakes, and other small game can be caught using a gig, or a pronged spear. A split-tip gig can be made from a sapling that is about an inch in diameter:

Use a knife or sharp rock to split the fat end into four equal sections, several inches deep.

Spread these tines apart with sticks and sharpen them to points.

NAVIGATION is another important survival skill.

Without a compass and map or working global positioning system (GPS) tool, use the sky to navigate.

The sun rises roughly in the east and sets in the west.

At night, find the North Star, Polaris, at the end of the handle of the Little Dipper constellation.

Face Polaris; this is true north.

An individual who does not know which direction to travel may follow a stream, which flows downhill.

ROPES & STRINGS can come in handy in many situations and are most useful if one learns a variety of knots.

Ropes can be used to create shelters, tie snares, carry gear, and climb cliffs.

One may improvise by using shoelaces, threads from clothing, drawstrings, dental floss, or other materials.

POISONOUS PLANTS. The most common ill effect on humans is a rash caused by contact with the plants or with their oil, called urushiol.

To prevent contact, do the following:

Wear shoes and socks, not open sandals

Look carefully at plants before walking through or touching them

Be cautious when wiping sweat from your forehead with your arm; you may have had contact with urushiol on your sleeve, transferring it onto your face and in your eyes

Wear loose clothing

Be careful in water, plants growing at the water’s edge can release enough urushiol into water to cause a reaction

Wash pets that may have traveled through poison

Decontaminate your belongings

SOME COMMON INJURIES & GENERAL CARE. While exploring the great outdoors, common injuries & what to do include:

FIRST STEP: Call for help.

General Care: BLEEDING

Cover with sterile bandage or clean cloth.

Use direct pressure to stop bleeding.

Elevate injured body part above heart to slow blood flow.

Use pressure at the pulse point between the injured area and the heart if bleeding fails to stop.

After bleeding has been controlled, wash wounded area and apply a dressing or bandage.

General Care: BURNS

Give care for specific type of burn (thermal/heat, chemical or electrical).

Continue checking them as appropriate to determine if additional care is needed.

Keep them from getting cold or overheated.

Give care for shock, if necessary.

Position the person as appropriate.

Reassure them you will help and that EMS has been called (if appropriate).

Watch for changes in condition, including breathing and responsiveness, and give care as appropriate and trained.

General Care: FRACTURE

Treat all muscle and bone injuries as potential fractures.

Have the person rest without moving or straightening the body part.

If the wound is closed, apply a cold pack wrapped in a thin, dry towel to the area. (a) Apply for no more than 20 minutes unless this causes pain. (b) Wait 20 minutes before applying again.

If the wound is open and bleeding, apply direct pressure to control bleeding.

If 9-1-1 is not called, contact a healthcare provider and follow their guidance.

Continue checking them as appropriate to determine if additional care is needed.

Keep person from getting cold or overheated.

Give care for shock, if necessary.

Reassure person you will help and that EMS has been called (if appropriate).

Watch for changes in condition, including breathing and responsiveness, and give care as appropriate and trained.

If trained and need to move or transport for medical care, give care based on level of training.

General Care: HYPOTHERMIA

Rewarm the person slowly. Rapid rewarming can lead to dangerous heart rhythms.

Move the person to a warmer place.

Remove wet clothes.

Dry the person.

Help the person put on dry clothing, including hat, gloves and socks, if available.

Wrap the person in dry blankets and plastic sheeting, if available.

Cover the person’s head.

Position the person as appropriate near a heat source or apply heating pads or hot water bottles filled with warm water to the body (if far from medical care).

Wrap heating pads or hot water bottles in thin, dry cloths to protect the person’s skin.

Offer small sips of a warm, non-caffeinated liquid if alert and can swallow. Examples include broth, warm water.

Continue checking them as appropriate to determine if additional care is needed.

Give care for shock, if necessary.

Reassure person you will help and that EMS has been called (if appropriate).

Watch for changes in condition, including breathing and responsiveness, and give care as appropriate. Be prepared to give CPR or compression-only CPR based on level of training and use an AED when available if the person becomes unresponsive and is not breathing (cardiac arrest).

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs ⚜ Part 1

Writing References: Injuries

Lovely of you to say, thanks so much! You can find more details in the sources. Also included a previous post on different injuries that you might find useful as well. All the best with your writing!

[fanaticsnail]

Hello Snail! Hope you’re doing well 🫶 I’ve been a fan of your writing for awhile, and had a little au idea pop into my head that I thought you would enjoy :)

Shapeshifter!Mihawk who wants to get closer to Reader, yet can see that they are intimidated by him. One day, while flying about the island to keep an eye on things, Mihawk is injured in bird form and crashes into a bush. Reader witnesses this and goes to rescue the “poor birdie,” not realizing this hawk is really Lord Dracule himself.

Shenanigans ensue, including:

- attempting to feed him seeds or worms

- miHawk bringing flowers to the windowsill or little trinkets and jewelry he “finds” (he’s sweating in the treasury to find something you would like)

- helping preen his feathers

- ranting to your new bird friend about the scary, attractive warlord who seems to just stare from a distance (Mihawk sees this as a green light to court you)

- “wow those eyes are SO familiar..”

- protective bird following you around/on your shoulder (he pecked someone who was flirting with you)

Keep taking care of yourself! And have a lovely rest of your day ✨

- bird brained anon 🪶

Oh my gosh, I need this. I need this so bad. I can see him being such a beautiful little raven or obviously a hawk. First thought: Diaval from Maleficent. But it's Mihawk, and he can switch at will.

Allow me the courtesy to write you an epilogue to your thoughts, I have been thinking about this for about 20 minutes and I needed to get it out. I'm not sure of the word count, it's just a little thing. Also, forgive the dodgy Photoshop. Raven was a stock photo edited on the Polish app on my phone and superimposed in front of Yoru from OPLA and I added some flowers to it.

Pretty Bird

Masterlist Here

Themes: fairytale creature au, avarial!Mihawk x reader, shapeshifter!Mihawk x reader. Part 2 here.

Little thought: If he's injured in his bird-like form, what if he can't switch back for a while? What if he's forced to remain nestled in the roofing of your country cottage until you manage to hear his hiss-like, pained squawks.

The bird is angry. He doesn't want to accept aid, but at the offer of a small piece of stewed meats, and drink by the warmth of your kitchen fire, who was he go resist such comfort? You name him: "pretty bird," and coo affectionately as you look over his feathers and insure there is no ache in his broken, hollowed bones.

Is he frightened? If he is, he surely cannot say. He is just a bird, after all. You bring him offerings of a wooden crate used to carry your homemade vintage of brandy-wine you produced from your country garden, and he accepts it immediately as his personal resting nook.

When your back is turned while you're washing up, you could've sworn you witnessed him dip his onyx beak into the goblet of brandy on your countertop. There was something in the way his golden eyes rolled in his head at the flavor that almost seemed human. You offer him a small thimbleful of the brandy, and he seems to bob his head and shake his tail in gratitude.

You hum to him, and he echoes the tune in a pleasant, deep warble back at you, coaxing a giggle from your throat. You offer him chin scratches as a reward for allowing you to check over his wounds, and his entire body leans into the gentle touch.

As his wounds seem to heal, you're almost remorseful at the prospect of never seeing this beautiful bird again. Such creatures are not meant for captivity, and you ensure to tell him as such as you unwind his bandage and remove his splint.

The last night you spend in the company of your pretty bird, you offer him an anecdote of your childhood: wandering the halls in the the high keep gallery on Kuraigana mountain when the former lord reigned. You longed to return, but you were not certain of the new lord's temperament.

You were unsure of what happened since the old man's natural passing, just as you were unsure of the Draculean man who now ruled thereafter. Was he kind and courteous as the ruler before him, or was he simply a man who now reigned where a kind man once homed: you were certainly too shy to ever approach him to ask.

All you could do is enjoy the splendor of your cottage, trading in handmade crafts with the former staff of high keep Kuraigana when the new lord retired them. They were elderly, and you were grateful of the Draculean man's kindness.

As you slipped into peaceful slumber by your open fire beside the crate, enjoying the warmth while laying on your sheepskin tapestry, the soft bob of talons was barely audible beside your slumbering body. Cloudy vapors of scentless, black smoke shrouded the bird's form and in its place was a creature native to the land, an angelic figure from the fables of old.

The winged man crouched beside you, cocking his head inquisitively to the side as he studied your features in his natural form. His amber eyes held curiosity and gratitude in its honey-like hue as he whispered gently beneath his breath a soft repetition of your name. Now that his tongue could claim your title, he was going to praise your kindness by rolling it over his palate at every moment he spent thinking of you.

"I will not forget your eagerness to aid me when my body was broken," he gently hovered his human like hands over your face, his taloned claws desiring to give you a gentle caress, but his thoughts of your comfort and consent to his touch pulls his urges from his mind. "I was just a bird to you, and you homed and treated me with not a semblance of payment in return."

The soft shudder of his onyx wings was silent, as if testing to see if they had healed before he slowly crept from your door and flew back to his castle in the dark of the night.

When you awoke, you heard a soft rap at your door and a slot of a letter beneath the iron frame of your letter slip. You first gazed to the brandy-wine crate, sighing off your soft sorrow at your pretty bird slipping away without saying goodbye.

Rising to your feet before stooping to collect the letter from the floor, you notice the wax seal was embroidered with the stamped letter "D" on its back. You cocked your head inquisitively to the side before using your blades letter opener to coax the waxy shell from the page. The letter was curt and brief, but the lettering was careful and almost loving.

"I would formally desire to extend an invitation to the premier reopening of the Kuraigana Gallery, by the bequest of Lord Dracule."

And who were you to refuse such an invitation from your new lord, regardless to how intimidating you found his reclusive nature? Donning your best formal garb, you make the lengthy trek towards the high keep with your nerves depicted by your heart jumping to your throat, and the swell of your tongue feeling heavy behind your teeth.

As you wander to the gray slate steps, you are blissfully ignorant of the amber gaze of your pretty bird watching over your every move with a soft curiosity in his eyes and a smile on his beak. He was so excited you accepted his invitation, and he was looking forward to showcasing his home and offering you sanctuary within his walls, just as you did to him when he was but a humble raven.

He was smitten, and he could hardly believe he had fallen prey to expressing adoration of a mortal being as yourself. One thing he was certain of was the fact he was to begin his romantic pursuit of you immediately, intensely and passionately. He could only hope you would not shy away from his winged form, and instead receive his affections with your heart and mind open to it.

[nichowa-an]

THE ONE WHO STAYED

Pairing: &team!k x y/n

Genre: Best Friends to Lovers | Angst | Betrayal | Comfort | Smut

W.C: ~8,797 MINORS DNI!!

They met when they were five.

Y/n had tripped on the sidewalk outside her building, knees scraped and tears spilling, when Koga Yudai—Kei—plopped beside her, dirt on his cheeks and a neon dinosaur band-aid in his tiny palm.

“Don’t cry,” he said with all the seriousness a child could muster. “Here. It’s a T-rex.”

She blinked at him, still hiccupping, and took it with shaking fingers. His smile was gap-toothed and brilliant, spreading warmth in the moment as he pressed the splint on her scrapes.

From that day on, they were inseparable.

They were the kids who shared lunchboxes and fought over video games, who built forts in living rooms and fell asleep on the same bean bag. Their parents stopped trying to separate them—Y/n and Kei were a package deal.

By twelve, they knew each other’s favorite colors, snacks, and fears. Y/n loved the sunset hues—orange and pink blending on the horizon—while Kei felt drawn to the vibrant blue of the ocean. She hated spiders, while he feared the sting of a bee, so they developed their own brand of bravery, facing down the monsters of childhood together.

By fifteen, they were stealing glances.

“Can I borrow your notes?” Y/n would joke, knowing full well she had memorized them. Kei would pretend to be annoyed, but his eyes sparkled with affection only she could see.

By sixteen, feelings began creeping in—unspoken, tentative, soft around the edges.

A little too much silence after their fingers brushed. A strange heat in Y/n’s cheeks when Kei leaned in too close during study sessions. That weird, aching flutter in Kei’s chest whenever she laughed at another guy’s joke, making him grit his teeth in jealousy.

They never spoke of it.

Too afraid to ruin everything.

High school blurred past them, filled with late-night calls and dumb dares—“I dare you to sing in front of the class!”—with classmates whispering behind cupped hands, “When are you two going to get together already?” Y/n would roll her eyes and laugh, but Kei would just grin, ruffling her hair, playing the part of the protective best friend.

But the question of their future lingered, a thread pulled tight between them, never snapped.

Then came college.

It was supposed to be the same.

They chose different universities, both hoping the distance wouldn’t change anything. “We’ll stay in touch,” they promised over ice cream, their hands grazing just enough to spark tension that neither acknowledged.

And they did. For a while.

Y/n poured herself into her studies, throwing herself into everything but her feelings for Kei. Then she met Satoshi.

Satoshi was older, confident, polished—the kind of guy who said all the right things, held her hand like she was made of glass, and kissed her like she was a dream he’d caught.

Kei smiled when she told him about Satoshi. A part of him wanted to pretend to be happy for her; he wanted the best for Y/n. But the polite smile masked the storm brewing within him.

That night, as he stared at the ceiling of his dorm room until morning, jaw clenched, fists curled, the thoughts crept in like insidious whispers. What about me?

He told himself it was fine. That she deserved happiness—even if it wasn’t with him. But as days turned into weeks, the messages from Y/n got shorter. Calls became fewer. Her voice began sounding distant.

The first time she forgot his birthday, he told himself it didn’t matter. The second time, he stopped sending reminders.

And yet—he never left.

When she needed help with her final project at 2 a.m., he picked up without hesitation. When she had a panic attack before a presentation, he sent her a voice note reminding her how brave she was. I’m always here for you, even when it felt like she was slipping away.

He loved her from a distance.

Silently. Unconditionally.

Meanwhile, Satoshi filled her world.

He promised her forever. He told her she was his light, his everything. She wanted to believe him. But as their relationship progressed, the promises started to crack.

The missed dates. The unreturned calls. The “late work nights” that dragged into weeks.

Her birthdays came and went with half-hearted dinners—a sad excuse for celebration marked by distracted smiles and vague apologies. An empty feeling began to bloom in her chest, noisy and heavy.

Yet Kei never missed a birthday.

One year, she found a small box on her doorstep—delicate silver jewelry, a single star charm. “You shine brighter than anyone,” the note read.

She wore it every day, hoping perhaps that Satoshi would notice one day, but he never did.

Then came the day that changed everything.

A headache. A canceled client. She wasn’t supposed to be home early. The first thing she noticed was the shoes—heels, so out of place beside her own worn sneakers.

“Maybe I should have checked the schedule,” she thought, heart racing as dread pooled in her stomach.

Then the sounds.

Muffled. Rhythmic. Too familiar.

Her heart thudded in her chest, panic rising. No. No, please.

Her feet carried her down the hall before her mind could stop her.

The bedroom door was half-open.

Hesitant breaths turned to horror as she saw them.

His hands on another woman. Her ex-best friend—the one she stopped speaking to after that night at the party, when she caught her leaning too close to Satoshi, laughing too loud at his jokes.

Y/n froze.

Stomach churning, air disappearing from her lungs, she felt like she was a ghost in her own life.

They didn’t see her—until she screamed.

“How could you do this to me?!”

They scrambled apart. Sheets tangled. Her ex-friend grabbed the blanket like modesty mattered now.

The man she thought she’d marry stood half-naked, annoyance etched on his face instead of guilt.

“You knew,” he said flatly. “You just didn’t want to believe it.”

She blinked, incredulous. “All those promises—everything you said to me—”

He scoffed. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t satisfy me.”

The necklace burned against her skin with a reminder of the love she thought was real. In a moment of rage and heartbreak, Y/n ripped it off and threw it at him. It hit his chest with a soft clink, echoing the finality of their shattered dreams.

Then she turned and ran.

There was only one place she could go.

Kei opened the door after the third knock.

His eyes widened at the sight of her—shaking, mascara-streaked, shoulders hunched like she was carrying the weight of the world.

“Y/n?”

She didn’t speak.

Just fell into his arms. He caught her instantly, wrapping himself around her like a shield, anchoring her in the storm that threatened to consume her.

She cried. Not polite sobs—no, this was raw. Ugly. Shattering. Her heart ached as if it had fractured into a million pieces.

“I’m here,” he whispered, holding her tighter. “I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that for minutes. Hours. It felt like time stood still, allowing them to breathe—until she could finally gather herself enough to let reality seep back in.

Eventually, he guided her inside.

She curled up on his couch—their couch—wrapped in his hoodie, breathing in the scent of detergent and safety. Everything she needed to surpass the pain.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” she whispered, voice muffled by the fabric.

“You don’t have to be strong right now,” Kei murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I gave him everything,” she admitted, voice cracking as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“He didn’t deserve it.” His tone was firm, tempered with a gentle understanding that made her sigh in resignation.

She looked up at him, those familiar eyes holding something deeper, brimming with emotion. “Why did you stay?” she asked, needing an answer, a lifeline to grasp.

Kei’s gaze softened. “Because I made a promise.”

“What promise?” she pressed, confused yet hopeful.

“That if everyone else broke your heart… I’d still be here.”

Tears spilled again. But these were different—charged with realization, a promise of something new.

“You were always here,” she whispered. “Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He brushed a thumb across her cheek, wiping away another tear. “You always deserved more than what he gave you.”

The silence that followed was thick with every unspoken word they had held back for years. All the moments they could have had but didn’t, crowded into the same space.

Then—

“Help me forget,” she whispered softly. “Please, Kei. Make me feel something that isn’t this.”

His breath hitched. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want anyone else. I never really did.”

That was all it took.

He kissed her.

The kiss was slow at first—tentative, made with the delicacy of a thousand promises shared over their years of friendship. Kei was giving her a choice, a chance to back away if she wanted.

But she didn’t.

She pulled him closer, fingers fisting his shirt as if holding on for dear life, pouring every ache and lingering sadness into the way her lips crashed against his. His hand cradled her face gently, deepening the kiss as if trying to erase every hurt in her heart.

Yearnings long hidden poured into that moment, weaving them together irrevocably.

Kei groaned softly, cupping her face, consuming her as if he’d always waited for this. He wanted to be everything the other man hadn’t been—passionate, affectionate, tender.

Their kisses deepened, a sweet desperation taking hold of them as she moaned softly against his mouth. She whimpered when his tongue brushed hers, when his fingers slid into her hair—the familiar touch now electric, igniting a fire inside her. When he pressed his body against hers, it felt like salvation.

But he paused.

“You’ve been hurt,” he whispered, searching her eyes with utmost sincerity. “Let me take my time with you.”

She nodded, feeling the weight of her decision settle over them. “Please.”

With a reverently gentle precision, he lifted her, carrying her to his bedroom—the one she hadn’t been in for years when their lives had intertwined seamlessly. It still smelled like him—cedarwood and fresh linens.

He set her down gently on his bed, still unsure if he deserved this moment with her.

His hands shook as he undressed her, not from lust—but reverence, as if she were a beautiful work of art he was being allowed to appreciate. Afraid that she would vanish into thin air if he wasn’t careful enough.

With eagerness full of wonder, she helped him too, peeling off his shirt, tracing the muscles of his chest. She drank in the sight of the boy she had grown up with—the man he had become—her fingers running over firm skin as if learning him by touch.

When they were both bare, Kei just looked at her, disbelief painted on his features.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, a hushed reverence that made warmth spread through her entire being.

And then he kissed her again.

His lips were urgent against hers, yet still tentative, as if savoring her presence slowly. He explored her body gently, like an artist working on a masterpiece he had long envisioned.

Her breath hitched when he trailed soft kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, across her chest. The sensations threatened to envelop her, and she gasped when he reached the soft underside of her breast, moaning when his mouth closed around her nipple.

“Kei—” her voice broke under the weight of overwhelming pleasure.

He hummed against her skin, eyes blazing with adoration. “I’ve got you.”

With every brush of his hands, he traveled lower, brushing her thighs, parting them slowly. He looked at her, eyes filled with desperation and tenderness.

“You can stop me anytime,” he reminded her, a gentle safeguard in unclear waters.

“I don’t want to,” she breathed, the weight of the world dissolving under his touch.

He slid his fingers through her folds, groaning at how ready she was for him. “For me?” he whispered, as if he couldn’t believe she wanted him.

She nodded eagerly, biting her lip, heart racing.

“You’re perfect,” he said, kissing her knee, her hip, trailing kisses down to her stomach. Each affectionate touch stirred something new within her, leading her closer to a precipice she desperately wanted to fall into.

When he finally slid inside her, they were already trembling.

Their bodies fit like a secret finally told after an eternity of waiting.

Kei moved slowly, deep, steady thrusts. His forehead pressed to hers, breaths mingling as he whispered sweet nothings. “You’re not broken,” he assured. “You’re not alone.”

She clung to him, tears slipping silently down her cheeks—not from pain—but from the overwhelming sensation of finally being seen, of realizing that she was cherished exactly as she was.

Their climax came like a wave—long, slow, devastating. It surged within her, lighting up her nerves, and her back arched as his name tore from her throat.

He spilled inside her with a choked groan, arms wrapped tight around her as if he was grounding them both.

They stayed like that—tangled in each other, enveloped in warmth, filled with the sweet echo of their moment. Time felt irrelevant, a gentle reminder of the years they had lost yet somehow found each other again.

After a while, when breath began to return to them, she traced lazy circles on his chest, her touch deliberate and soft.

“Does it always feel like this?” she asked softly, wonder slipping into her tone.

“No,” he murmured, kissing her temple, a tender sigh escaping his lips. “Only when it’s real.”

She exhaled softly, a weight lifting from her chest, replaced with new possibility. “It feels… so right.”

“It is.” His gaze held hers firmly, full of promises they could finally start to explore together. “You deserve this. You deserve someone who will cherish you, who will always be here for you.”

Satisfaction warmed her insides; a soft smile broke across her face. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to feel truly alive.

With every brush of his skin against hers, she felt herself being pieced back together. The heartbreak faded slightly into the background as the warmth of new beginnings sparked to life. Kei was not just her anchor; he was the lighthouse guiding her back home.

“Can we talk more?” she asked suddenly, the weight of so many unsaid words beginning to surface between them. “About everything? Where we go from here?”

Kei’s expression softened, a tender understanding filling his eyes. “Of course. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

And for once, in the beautiful silence that followed, she knew it to be true. The darkness of her past no longer had a hold on her. Sitting on the precipice of an unwritten future with him felt thrilling in a way that promised healing.

Together, they would redefine what love meant, and when the world tilted, she knew he would always catch her—in ways that mattered the most.

And as the night melted into dawn, she realized something monumental—this connection they shared extended far beyond friendship or romance. It was a tether of hearts woven together by time, trials, and finally, understanding.

The start of a new narrative was unfolding, full of promise, built on the resilience they had cultivated side by side—their bond a living testament to everything they had overcome just to find each other again.

As the sun began to rise, illuminating the room around them, Y/n felt hope surging, igniting a spark within her she had thought lost forever.

Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she no longer needed to dream of brighter days—she was finally beginning to live them. The weight of past ghosts was lightened, giving way to the thrill of next chapters filled with joy, laughter, and unconditional love—an exhilarating leap into the future, hand-in-hand with the boy who had always been a part of her.

The path ahead was uncertain but wide open—and she wouldn’t change a thing.

Months slipped by, each marked with healing, laughter, and unexpected delight. The air crackled with possibilities as they explored this new dynamic, weaving their lives together anew.

Their late-night chats drifted toward city skies filled with stars or indulged in random adventures around town—festivals, karaoke nights, or silent hikes where their hands would naturally find each other. They truly became more than best friends and lovers; they were partners in every sense of the word.

“I can’t believe we never tried this sooner,” Y/n laughed one evening as they lay under the stars, his arm strewn casually across her shoulders. It was a simple moment—a breath shared in the tranquil night sky—but everything felt charged, ripe with unspoken promises.

“Better late than never, right?”

She chuckled, resting her head against him. Knew it to be true.

The seasons changed, and with it, they found their rhythm transforming into something comfortable. The monumental ache of her past relationships slowly faded, replaced by the warmth of Kei's unwavering support. She loved discovering all the little things that made him who he was—his sense of humor, the way he looked at the world, and his unwavering adherence to remain her biggest fan.

They became each other’s safe space and sweet comfort. Conversations flowed easily about their days or the dreams they had, and as they continued sharing their hearts, they found remnants of fleeting moments from childhood resurfacing, blending beautifully with new experiences.

One afternoon, while she sorted through boxes from home, she found the small dinosaur band-aid they had sealed with a childhood promise—a reminder of how far they had come.

She laughed, holding it up to Kei. “Look what I found! This goofy thing?”

His face lit up with recognition. “Hey, that brings back memories! You cried so hard that day—”

“Only because you scared me when you snuck up on me!” she defended playfully.

With that, the past collided with the present, and laughter echoed through their small apartment, filling every corner.

But one evening, as they sat side by side, she felt the stirrings of something lingering just beneath the surface.

“Kei,” she began tentatively, turning her body to face him, “do you… do you see a future for us?”

His brow furrowed momentarily before a smile broke through his features, one that reached his eyes—warm and inviting. “Always,” he answered without hesitation.

“No doubts? No thoughts on exploring outside our little bubble?”

“No,” he confirmed firmly, “because I don’t just want to keep you close, Y/n. I want to build a life with you. We can expand our own world together. I’ve always known that.”

Her heart fluttered with excitement at his words—making it clear where they stood together. “That’s what I want too.”

He chuckled softly, leaning closer to kiss her forehead. “Then let’s keep doing this—together. Whatever it means, we’ll figure it out.”

And they would. Because they had weathered storms together, felt heartbreaks, and learned that home was found not just in places but in each other’s hearts.

As the stars began to twinkle outside, they slipped their fingers together before leaning back against the couch—comfort in their silence, knowing every shared breath pulled them closer.

With each passing day, they discovered a new strength in their love—a love born from friendship but interlaced with passion, promise, and the unwavering certainty they would always be there for one another.

Together, they would create a narrative. One filled with joy, resilience, and the kind of love that made them believe that even the oldest ties could lead to the brightest beginnings.

—And they were finally ready to write that story together.

[saphronethaleph]

Niman, the Way of the Rancor

Jango muttered a curse, closing his commlink.

You just couldn’t get the informants these days. Jango had bribed people in the Kaminoan facility to be informed if anyone showed up asking after him, but he hadn’t managed to get them to realize that the arrival of a starship not long after he’d returned from Coruscant might be important.

And now he’d only found out that a Jedi was present when they’d actually asked to see the template for the clones.

“Boba,” he said. “We might have an unexpected guest. And we might need to leave – soon.”

“Got it, dad,” his son replied. “Now?”

“No, the Jedi’s coming this way,” Jango replied. “I’ll try and trick them, then we leave as soon as they’re not here. Is all my armour hidden?”

The attendance chime went, and Jango rolled his head back and forth slightly as Boba went to answer it.

“Boba?” he heard Taun We ask. “Is your father here?”

“Don’t worry about little old me,” a calm voice added. “Just here to visit.”

“May we see him?” Taun We added.

“...sure,” Boba said, after several seconds of silence. “Uh. Dad! Taun We’s here!”

Jango moved around the corner of the apartment, to look at the visiting Jedi, and nearly swallowed his tongue.

There was a kriffing Rancor standing behind Taun We. A Rancor wearing a utility belt, attached to which were two lightsabers – one about the size of a small claw, the other big enough that Taun We could have used it as a neck splint.

“Welcome back, Jango,” Taun We said. “Was your trip productive?”

Jango blinked several times.

“...why is there a Rancor behind you?” he asked.

“Hello,” the Rancor said, in that same calm voice. “My name is Knight Tosh. Can I come in?”

Jango was still staring.

“Isn’t it ‘may’?” Boba asked, in the tones of a child who was trying to notice something he could process.

“I’m not sure how big the hallway is,” Tosh explained. “If there’s a problem with my fitting in, that’s fine, I can sit out here and we can talk.”

Putting actions to words, she sat down.

Jango wasn’t sure exactly how he’d decided that the Rancor was a ‘she’, but he supposed they probably did have genders.

“...you’re a Rancor?” he said, still trying to get past that essential point.

“Yes,” Tosh agreed. “A proud daughter of Dathomir. I’m told I’m named for my grandmother, who was the first of us to learn to read and write.”

She steepled the fingers on her enormous clawed hands.

“Aide We,” she said, a little more formally. “I must inform you that I’m here for a number of reasons, not just one. You see, I’ve been looking into a recent assassination attempt on that nice Senator Amidala.”

“Oh, goodness!” Taun We said. “That is most worrying.”

“It is,” Tosh agreed, with a surprisingly kindly smile given that it was a Rancor smiling, something that Jango’s brain kept circling around to. “The assassin is dead, which is fortunate, and I believe that Jango here did us the favour of eliminating her. So I wanted to thank him personally, and also ask if he had any idea why that might have happened… why he might have been hired to kill that particular shapeshifter, that is.”

Then she frowned. “Oh – but where are my manners? We should really start with how it is that you came to be the template for the clone army! It must be a fascinating story. I assume your young son there is involved, somehow?”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, taking the mug from Cliegg Lars. “I think that’ll be enough for us for now.”

“Not a problem,” Cliegg replied. “You and the other Jedi are the one who rescued Anakin from his old life, that’d be enough to make you kin here, even before all you’ve done for us so far.”

“We do our best,” Obi-Wan smiled, taking a sip of the drink. “Very nice. Thank you again, Cliegg.”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Anakin admitted. “I never really imagined what it would be like to have my mom actually marry someone, but… I think he’s nice.”

“It’s not something the Jedi have much experience with,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m just as lost as you are, Anakin.”

“Are you sure this is a good place to hide out, Obi-Wan? Ani?” Padme asked.

She frowned, and waved her hand. “I don’t mean… that it’s a bad idea to be here. We’ve only been here two days and we’ve already rescued your mother, Ani. But if someone comes looking for us… we’re hiding with the only relatives Anakin has in the entire galaxy.”

“I’m quite sure that nobody will find us,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Yeah, I agree with Master Kenobi,” Anakin nodded. “If I was looking for where a Jedi was hiding, I’d never even think of looking for their family. Jedi just don’t think about family. It’s not something we do.”

“But the people who are trying to hunt me down… they do think about family, don’t they?” Padme said. “Or they might, anyway…”

“In which case, fortunately, we are in a very large desert,” Obi-Wan said. “Mos Espa would have been a suitable enough place to hide out, but now we’re off in the desert. A planet is a very big place to hide someone, Senator – and if there’s anyone in the galaxy who wouldn’t try to betray us, it’s Anakin’s close family. Even before we rescued his mother.”

Padme looked conflicted.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “I just worry that we’re too easy to find here. I don’t know how rational that is, but the extent of the resources available to our enemies…”

“Where would you have preferred?” Obi-Wan asked. “If this isn’t where you’d have thought to hide, where would you have hidden?”

“I’d have gone to Naboo,” Padme replied. “Relatives of my family have a house up in the lakes, in the mountains. It’s wonderful and calm and nobody ever goes there.”

“Actually, I like the sound of that, Master,” Anakin said. “Are you sure we can’t change plans and go there, now? There’s a lake there.”

“We brought a lake with us, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, tossing his head to indicate the beaten-up old freighter they’d used to get to Tatooine. “Or a large swimming pool, at least.”

Beru Lars chuckled.

“You three are terrible at this,” she said, from over in the corner. “We’re grateful for your arrival, but… none of you know the first thing about hiding.”

“We don’t?” Anakin asked. “What do you mean?”

“ Tatooine is a planet with slavery, which means a planet with crime,” Beru told them. “If you’re going into hiding, you want to get a good balance between the support network and being impossible to trace back to your owners.”

“Of course,” Padme murmured. “It’s a shame the Republic hasn’t been able to do anything about the slavery out here.”

“That’s your department, isn’t it” Beru asked. “With your being a senator, that is.”

“Padme’s brought it up in the Senate a few times,” Anakin said, defending her. “It’s never gone far, though.”

“Part of the problem is that the Republic doesn’t have the ability to do much about it,” Padme admitted. “We have a navy, but no real army – and bombarding Tatooine to help end slavery seems like a bad idea.”

Beru inclined her head.

“That’s fair,” she conceded. “It’s easy enough to forget that, out here. And I’d bet it seems hard to remember there are people in chains, when you’re on glittering Coruscant.”

“We could be doing more than we are,” Padme allowed. “Once this is over, I’ll see what I can do.”

Darth Tyrannus looked at Jango, his gaze calm. Calm, in the way that the ground was calm, under a descending meteor.

He was extremely unimpressed.

“You told her everything?” he asked, his fingers drumming on his belt next to the handle of his lightsaber.

“Not everything, but… more than I think I should have,” Jango replied, somewhat embarrassed. “You weren’t there. It was… I’d like to see you concentrate on what your story is when there’s a Rancor staring at you. Complimenting you. Offering you tips on how to make tea.”

He shook his head. “Saying that she could smell Coruscant on your clothes. And that’s before the fact that she’s a Jedi.”

Dooku sniffed.

“I think that if I were confronted with a Rancor, and it pulled out a lightsaber, I would be relieved,” he said.

There was a sort of soft thump behind him, and Jango glanced up before going pale and holding up his hands.

“Good afternoon,” a pleasant voice said. “Dooku, it’s nice to meet you at last. Should I call you Count? Or do you prefer the name Darth Tyrannus?”

Dooku knew what he was going to see behind him.

He knew it.

But he had to turn around and look anyway, and so he did.

“Tosh,” he said, and this time he did take his lightsaber off his belt – though he didn’t light it. “How did you get here?”

“A tracking beacon, of course,” Tosh replied. “Well, actually two, one of them was in the fidget spinner I gave young Boba, but I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed so I stuck one to Mr. Fett’s ship as well. I must say, I do like the climate here. Pleasantly dry.”

She smiled, in a way that was somehow disarming until you refocused and remembered what the smile was attached to. “You know, we’re actually somewhat related! In the Jedi sense, at least. I’m not sure how you’ve kept up with master-student relationships in the Temple since you left, but that nice dear Yoda trained me for a few years.”

Dooku did his very best to contain a nervous swallow.

“I have surpassed my old Master,” he said. “I doubt even he could defeat me now.”

“Oh, that’s quite possible,” Tosh agreed, nodding. “Yoda’s always been sentimental, you know. He finds it so hard to fight seriously. It’s not something I’d call a character flaw, but it is what it is.”

She shrugged. “I’d very much appreciate it if we didn’t have to fight today, you know. Since I know you’re a Sith, what about if you give me information on your Master? I know that betrayal is the kind of thing the Sith like to do, and that way we don’t have to fight.”

Dooku evaluated his options.

All it would take for his plans to hold together would be for him to be confident in his ability to defeat this Jedi Knight. This mere… Jedi Knight.

This mere… Rancor… Jedi Knight…

The other option was looking appealing. It was difficult to deny that.

“It’s hard to believe,” Mace Windu admitted, leaning back in his chair.

It was a common posture in the Jedi Council whenever this particular Knight was reporting to them, and Mace felt a most un-Jedi-like pang of jealousy for Yarael Poof. Long-necked and calm, the Quermian Master was the only one able to look Tosh in the eye without either leaning back or standing up.

“Hmm,” Yoda mused. “Mistaken you are not, I assume?”

“Being mistaken is always a possibility, Master,” Tosh answered. “But the plan that Dooku told me does seem to make a good deal of sense… it’s one of those plans where the Sith would win no matter which side of the war was triumphant.”

She spread her massive hands. “It could all be a lie… but it does explain a few things, which leads me to think it might be true. I’d recommend at least testing it.”

“A good approach,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, to nods from Plo Koon and Sasee Tiin.

“It ties into what Master Gallia has been discovering recently as well,” the latter said. “The Trade Federation’s involvement in this is unsurprising, but the Techno Union, Intergalactic Bank Clan… again, investigation is needed.”

A ripple of agreement ran around the Council.

“And what of the clone army?” Yoda asked. “Commissioned by us, the Kaminoans were told.”

“Oh, I thought the best thing to do was to send them to make sure that nice Senator Amidala was safe,” Tosh replied, with a pleasant smile.

Windu frowned, then looked over at Yoda.

“When was the last time we got an update from Kenobi and Skywalker?” he asked.

“It’s been… a while,” Yarael Poof said, doing his neck exercises. “Last contact was shortly after they reached Tatooine. They were going to avoid broadcasting to make sure they weren’t tracked down.”

Mace Windu activated a holocommunicator.

“Old Folks Home to Guiding Light,” he said. “Knight Kenobi. What is your situation?”

“Guiding Light copies,” a hazy image of Obi-Wan Kenobi replied. “Master Windu, I think we just liberated Tatooine by accident.”

“By accident?” Ki-Adi-Mundi replied. “How exactly did you-”

He stopped, remembering the missions that Kenobi and his Padawan had been on.

“Never mind, carry on,” he requested. “What happened?”

“Someone sent us an army,” Obi-Wan said. “We didn’t actually order them to do anything, but Senator Amidala gave some speeches and I think things sort of escalated from there…”

[nahoney22]

I got a fun request for wrecker. nsfw number five and enemies to lovers number two. please combine as you see fit and for your own personal entertainment. Any rating is acceptable, because I saw the lines and said “that’s perfect! We never see Wrecker angry enough to yell.”

Under my Skin*** 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Wrecker x Female Reader

word count: 2.9k

prompts:

“What’re you staring at?” / “You, is that a problem?”

“Fuck you.” / “Say the time and place.”

After being stranded in the middle of nowhere, yourself and Wrecker find yourselves staying at an inn for the night. And after some harsh truths, you both can’t resist the magnetic pull of each other anymore.

warnings: NSFW, 18+. Enemies to lovers, arguing, one bed trope, first kiss, rough kissing, neck kissing, praises, dirty talk, clit play, explicit sexual content and language, abrupt ending, not proofread.

authors note: sorry for the wait @gokyacetakal , I hope this is okay? Enjoy 🫧🩵

Your luck seemed cursed sometimes, and today was no exception. Despite your repeated warnings, Wrecker insisted on his reckless plan. The outcome? Being stranded on a barren planet with the person you despised most in the galaxy: Wrecker.

Some might find it strange to dislike someone like Wrecker, but his incessant protective instincts, especially towards you, were infuriating. You were highly trained in combat, technology, first aid, bomb disposal—everything needed to be a soldier. Yet, he constantly overshadowed you.

“Explain to me why you couldn't just listen, Wrecker? Just this once!” you growled, surveying the desolate landscape, the cold sand sifting through your fingers as the moon cast its pale light on both of you.

“If we had taken your route, we'd be dead. I saved your life,” he scoffed, folding his massive arms across his chest, staring everywhere but at you.

You smirked bitterly. “If we had taken my route, we wouldn't have been ambushed by those raiders. We would have stayed undercover, avoided open terrain, and reached the rendezvous point unscathed. But no, you charged in like a Rancor, turning us into sitting ducks.”

He shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware you were right, and it irked him.

With a deep sigh, you grabbed your supplies and backpack, and started walking ahead, leaving Wrecker behind.

“Where are you going?” he called after you.

“To find out where we are and, ideally, get some food and shelter. Feel free not to follow,” you retorted, not even glancing back. But judging by the large shadow that soon appeared beside you, he did, much to your annoyance.

The walk was silent, the tension between you both thick and uncomfortable. The moon's dim light made the barren landscape appear even more haunting. Every step you took felt weighted by unspoken words and simmering anger.

Then, pain shot through your legs. You grunted, trying to conceal it, but the shin splints slowed you down considerably.

“Why are you slowing down?” Wrecker asked, his voice gruff beside you.

“It’s... nothing,” you sighed, adjusting your slipping backpack. “Just getting tired.”

“Lazy.”

“Shut up.”

You continued for a few more klicks, but the pain became unbearable. You had to stop, bending over to massage your shins in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Wrecker halted next to you, raising an eyebrow. “Shin splints?”

You remained silent for a moment, quietly impressed he recognised it immediately. Seeing no point in lying, you nodded.

“I’d give you a stim, but we’re out,” he muttered, waiting for you to compose yourself. As you took a step, you cried out in pain, nearly collapsing.

Wrecker quickly grabbed your arm, steadying you. “Easy there.” His voice is somewhat soft and you can’t help but feel the warmth of his touch on your skin.

Begrudgingly, you muttered a small, “Thanks.” You correct your posture and he lets go, making you suddenly feel cold. Strange.

In the distance, you spotted some lights, suggesting the possibility of a village or settlement. But given your condition, you weren’t sure you could make it.

“Wrecker, look over there,” you said, nodding towards the lights. He followed your gaze, his eyes narrowing as he confirmed the sight.

“I see it,” he replied, his voice gruff but attentive.

“You need to go and ask for help. Tell them what happened,” you urged, wincing as you shifted your weight to alleviate the pain in your shins.

He turned back to you, his expression softening as he read the pain etched on your face. “I’m not leaving you out here alone,” he said firmly. “I’ll carry you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and discomfort. “No. Definitely not.” You shook your head vigorously, horrified at the thought of being carried like a child.

“We don’t have time to argue about this,” he grunted, his resolve unwavering as he stepped closer. “I’m carrying you.”

Before you could protest further, Wrecker slipped an arm under your legs and another around your waist, lifting you effortlessly into a bridal carry. His strength was incredible, and despite your initial resistance, you couldn’t help but feel a grudging gratitude.

The darkness of the night mercifully hid your flustered expression as your hands instinctively wrapped around the back of his neck for support, his grip on you secure.

"Don't drop me," you muttered, trying to mask your discomfort with a touch of humour.

He hums softly with amusement, the sound resonating in his chest. "No promises."

The lights in the distance grew brighter as Wrecker continued his determined trek with you in his arms . Each step he took seemed to bring a little more assurance that you would find safety, help and to get in contact with the others.

You didn’t know how long Wrecker had been carrying you, but the silence between you had grown deafening. The rhythmic sound of his footsteps against the sand and your own breathing seemed amplified in the stillness of the night.

Somehow, you found yourself gazing up at Wrecker. Your eyes traced the lines of his scarred face and his battered ear, remnants of countless battles and skirmishes.

“What are you staring at?” he grumbled, catching you off guard. His gaze remained fixed ahead, his voice a low rumble.

You glanced away briefly before meeting his eyes again. “You. Is that a problem?”

“Yeah, it’s annoyin’,” he muttered. Despite his gruff tone, you caught a flicker of insecurity crossing his face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability.

Personally, though you would never admit it to him, you thought his scars were fascinating. They told stories of resilience and survival. Of course, earning them undoubtedly would’ve been painful, but you couldn’t help but silently admire them.

“Nothing else to look at around here,” you mutter, gesturing to the barren landscape with a small, wry smile. The desolation of the planet offered no distractions, just endless stretches of sand and rock.

Wrecker huffed, his expression softening just a touch. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

After what felt like an eternity, the lights of the settlement finally grew close enough to reveal its source. A small, ramshackle village emerged from the darkness, an assortment of durasteel structures and flickering holosigns offering you both shelter for the night.

Wrecker carried you through the dusty streets, you shifting in his arms as onlookers gave you both curious glances. “How abou’ that one?” He nods to an inn with a flickering neon sign. It was almost rubble but if it gives you a place to rest, it was perfect.

Inside, the innkeeper, a grizzled old Twi'lek, eyed you both warily but softened when he saw your obvious fatigue and Wrecker’s determined expression.

He lets you down carefully and both of you pooled your remaining credits, just enough for a single room. As the Twi'lek handed you the fob, he mentioned an unfortunate detail.

“Only one bed in there,” he said gruffly. “Take it or leave it.”

You glanced at Wrecker, your annoyance bubbling up again. “Great. Just great.”

Wrecker shrugged, surprising you with his clearly unfazed look. “Better than nothin’.”

Luckily the room was just down the hall so you could just about walk, or should you say ‘hobble’, towards the room.

It was small and sparsely furnished, with a single, surprisingly large bed taking up most of the space. You dropped your gear near the door before turning to look at the bed with your hands on your hips.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” you declared.

“Don’t be dumb,” Wrecker replied, setting his gear down and peeling off his armour. “We can share the bed. It’s big enough.”

You shot him a look with wide eyes. “Not happening.”

Wrecker’s eyes darkened with irritation. “Why do ya have to make everything so difficult?”

“Why do you always have to be the hero?” you snapped back, the frustration you’d been holding back for so long spilling out. “It’s like you think I’m incapable of handling myself. I’m trained, Wrecker. I can fight, I can think, I can take care of myself.”

His brow furrowed, confusion and irritation mingling on his face. “I know you can handle yourself. I’m just tryin’ to keep ya safe.”

“By constantly overshadowing me? By making decisions for me? Do you know how frustrating it is to have someone always step in like I’m some… some…helpless rookie?” you retorted, your voice rising as your hand flailed in the air. “I joined this squad to make a difference, not to be protected like some fragile thing.”

He rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his bread chest. “Maybe if you weren’t so stubborn and actually worked with me for once instead of against me, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” he shot back, stepping closer. The glow from the room's dim light fixture cast long shadows on his rugged features.

“I’m not against you, Wrecker. I’m against you treating me like I’m less capable. Like I’m not part of this team. You don’t trust my judgment. You didn’t listen to me back there, and now we’re stuck on this kriffing planet,” you shouted, the words pouring out in a torrent of pent-up anger and hurt.

“Fine, you want the truth?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, like the rumble of an approaching sandstorm. “I don’t want ya to get hurt. You might not see it but I do; you put yourself at risk way too many times.”

The intensity of his admission took you aback, but your anger still simmered beneath the surface. “And you don’t? I don’t need a savior, Wrecker. I need a partner. Someone who respects my abilities and trusts me to do my part.”

Wrecker sighed heavily and rubbed the side of his temple, clearly getting a headache. “Whatever. We’ll talk about this another time. So stop actin’ like a brat and lay in bed.”

“You’re the kriffing brat,” you grumbled, looking away from him, but he heard you.

“Fuck you,” he finally snapped, his chest heaving with barely restrained emotion.

You had never heard or seen him swear like this before. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t rage. It was something more complex, something that made something in you snap as well. Without really thinking about it, you retorted, “Say the time and place.”

You both stilled, your breaths echoing around the small room as the weight of what you’d said settled in. His jaw clenched, and that unreadable look intensified in his eyes. Meticulously, he slid one glove off, his movements slow and deliberate. “Alright. How about right here?”

Your eyes widened, but you didn’t deny him. Words stuck in your throat as you watched him slide the other glove off before he had you backing up into the wall. “Right now.”

“W-Wrecker… I…”

You couldn’t stop the soft, muffled whine that escaped against Wrecker’s lips as he kissed you, hot, messy, and slightly aggressive. But you welcomed it, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Your eyes fluttered closed as he backed you up against the wall with a thud.

Subconsciously, you tilted your head, allowing one of his large hands to slide up to the nape of your neck, cupping it firmly and keeping you close. His lips worked expertly against yours, slick with spit as he pried your mouth apart and slipped his tongue inside which made your core pang with a heat.

“Mmmm,” you moaned softly into his mouth, going numb against his body. The kiss was fierce, full of pent-up frustration and longing, and it consumed you both. His free hand gripped your waist, and you found your legs spreading open when his hot, wet muscle danced with yours. The kiss deepened, becoming a battle of tongues and teeth for dominance while simultaneously giving in to the other.

His other hand moved to your hip from your neck, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the hard planes of his body pressed against yours. You tug on his under armour and you feel a large smirk tug on his lips before he breaks the kiss, pulling himself out of his clothes where your eyes almost bulge out of your head at the sight of his large, bare muscular chest. “Wow.” You mutter to yourself, breathless.

“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He tilts his head down at you, taking your hand and placing it against his sturdy abdomen.

You swallow, feeling your panties getting increasingly wetter as your fingers trace across his bare skin. “Uh-huh.”

Wrecker then lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carried you to the bed. The galaxy seemed to blur as he laid you down gently, his large frame hovering over you, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

As your hands slid up his broad chest, feeling every scar and vein until they wrap around his neck, you tugged him down to you, the desire for him thick like the growing appendage in his pants. “Can I look at you?” He whispers, soft for such a big man.

You nod eagerly and allow Wrecker to slide his hands under your shirt, caressing your stomach before he helps pull your shirt over your head leaving your upper body bare apart from just a bra.

“You look so pretty, baby.” He admires, one hand cupping your breast over your bra that had you softly moaning until his fingers dug into your waist, his grip almost bruising but in a way that only makes your body tremble in pleasure.

He crawls over the top of you, stealing your lips in another deep kiss. You had broken the kiss briefly, gasping for air, but Wrecker didn’t give you much of a chance to breathe. His lips were back on yours in an instant, more insistent and demanding. The intensity of his need matched your own, and you felt yourself melting into him, “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and breathless.

You could only respond with a desperate, needy kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him even closer than before. Wrecker's weight pressed down on you, grounding you, his warmth enveloping you completely. His hands roamed your body, memorising every curve and contour, while his lips continued their relentless assault on yours. Each kiss, each touch, was a declaration, a recognition of everything you both had kept bottled up for so long.

As he moved his lips to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, you arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips. His name fell from your lips like a prayer and full of need.

“Wrecker…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He paused, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze softening slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his tone a tender intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

In that moment, surrounded by the soft hum of the room and the distant sounds of the settlement outside, you felt something shift between you. The anger, the frustration, the tension—all of it melted away, replaced by a deep, undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore.

As Wrecker’s lips found yours once more, you felt his hand slide down your body, his touch sending electric shivers through you. His fingers found their way to the waistband of your pants, and without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand inside. The sensation was overwhelming, and you arched into him, needing him, a gasp escaping your lips as his fingers brushed against your slick heat.

“Oh, fuck…” you moaned, your breath hitching at the sensation. His touch was both gentle and possessive, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Meanwhile, you could feel his arousal pressed against you, hard and insistent.

“Feels like you’ve been wanting this as much as I have,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to form words. His fingers moved with practiced skill, teasing and exploring, driving you closer to the edge with every touch.

His lips moved back to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to drive you wild with his touch and kisses. Your hands roamed his body, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin.

Wrecker’s fingers slid down further, parting your folds and finding your clit, circling it with an expert touch that had you crying out. Your hips bucked against his hand, seeking more friction, more of the pleasure he was giving you.

“Wrecker… please…” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

He didn’t need any further encouragement. His movements became more urgent, his touch more demanding as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, every sensation heightened, every touch electric. “Good girl. Cum for me.”

And then, with a final, shattering kiss, he pushed you over the edge, his fingers delving deeper into your pussy as your body trembled with the force of your release. You clung to him, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your mind reeling from the intensity of it all. “That’s it sweetie, you did so well.”

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you lay there, wrapped in his arms, your bodies pressed close together. Everything outside the room suddenly felt distant and unimportant, the only thing that mattered was you two… whatever you were.

Wrecker’s eyes met yours, a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper reflected in his gaze. “I guess we don’t need to argue about the bed anymore.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, tracing a finger over his skin. “Yeah, I guess not.”

Wrecker Works

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[81emily71]

man i love these homos. also this was written february last year, please don’t judge im SO not bothered to rewrite it lmao. anyway, as per, fic under the cut!

warnings: idiots in love, first kiss, love confessions, implied bdsm, attempt at comedy

wc: 1,473

description: McLaren employees have to do their CPR and First Aid course once a year. Normally drivers do it with their trainers, but what happens when they do it together in a big group?

First Aid +

Once a year, most McLaren employees - especially drivers - had to undergo First Aid and CPR training in case of an emergency, and the medical team couldn’t come. Usually, Mclaren drivers did it with their trainers who were also certified instructors and never in big group settings; it was normally easier. However, this year McLaren decided to do it with their drivers in one big group with other garage-based employees. It was held in the MTC in between Baku and Singapore, disrupting Landos plans to fly with Max from one race to another, but that was ok.

Oscar arrived at the training a few minutes late, apparently from oversleeping; Lando, however, was nearly half an hour late. It was unclear as to why. The course had to be done while everyone was present unless taking a day off work, so it was delayed said half an hour, severely inconveniencing Oscar’s dinner plans with his mum.

The first thing they had to remember was the acronyms DRSABCD, COWS, and RICER. It seemed simple enough to the both of them, having done it many times in their careers. By instruction of the trainer, they had to pair off to demonstrate the ‘R’ of DRSABCD - Response by using the other acronym, COWS. WIth Lando and Oscar paired together, Oscar lied down on the ground pretending to be unconscious as Lando circled him, still looking for any dangers (the first ‘D’ of the same acronym).

“Can you hear me?” Lando asked, getting no reply.

“Open your eyes.” Again to no reply.

“What’s your name?” Silence followed.

“Squeeze my hands.” There would be nothing wrong with the notion of Lando holding Oscar’s hands in a scenario like this, but the older had decided that it would be a great idea to perch himself on the younger’s lap, literally straddling him. That was not ok. He was then balling a half-stiffie while the Brit was still on his lap, definitely able to feel it, but neither said anything about it.

After Lando climbed off and they completed section 1 of the course, they moved on promptly to head and spinal injuries. At random, Oscar was chosen to lie on the spinal board as a demonstration, and to make matters worse, his half-hard had not been willed away. The instructor, however, decided to make this the perfect opportunity to enlighten everyone in the room that in the event of a spinal injury, a man can become hard and not be aroused, simultaneously alerting everyone that Oscar was bricked. This day could not get any worse for him.

After the neck and spinal section, they moved on to slings and splints. Nothing bad could happen with this one right? *Loud incorrect buzzer* WRONG. They had to get with their old partners again and copy the demonstration given, starting with a shoulder sling. As Oscar wrapped the sling around Landos neck, giving him next to no room to move as instructed, the Brit decided to whisper:

“Do it as tight as you like, baby.” He froze, What the fuck??? Who just says that??? Was the only comprehensible thing going through the Aussie’s mind at the time.

When his mind finally registered what the hell had just happened, he had around 2 seconds to finish the sling before someone noticed that he was taking too long.

Then Lando’s turn for the sling came. While having the next way to tie a sling was being demonstrated, the younger saw Lando (presumably) fidgeting with the rolled up sling from the corner of his eye, when all of a sudden his hands were yanked away from him. Confused as to what was going on, Oscar whipped his head around to see what the older had been entertaining himself with. This has to be a joke. Genuinely cut the cameras, cause what the hell. Lando had made handcuffs. Handcuffs out of a sling and put Oscar’s hands in them, rendering him immobile until when if Lando was to let him free. Thankfully, he did when the sling was to be used again.

Interlinking in with the splints was section 3 - venomous bites, as if you were to be bitten by a venomous snake or spider on the foot, your other leg would act as a splint if one was unavailable. However, this meant another opportunity for Lando to turn this first aid course into some rope bunny/rigger type BDSM.

While the curlyhead was lying in the ground with a PIT bandage on his leg, Oscar was strapping one leg to the other with some rigid fabric (likely the sling again, but he wasn’t quite sure). The taller boy was doing it quite loose as this was just a training exercise, and it was unnecessary to go too harsh when the other whispered in a voice so low only they could hear:

“Come on baby, tighter,” and put a hand in his unruly locks, toying with the hairs on the back of his neck. This sent a chill down his spine and to his nearly fully hard dick. Well, fuck.

When they finally finished the partner work for severe injuries, it was time for commonly-found medical issues, such as allergies, diabetes and asthma. They started promptly with allergies and injecting an epi pen into someone’s thigh. They were given a training version without the needle and were instructed on the steps to follow when administering an epi.

Just when Oscar thought this was the only section clear of something out of the ordinary, Lando leaned over and whispered in his ear mid-exercise: “I don’t have any allergies, but you could stab me anytime, darling.” Someone really needs to murder Oscar before he does it to himself, he swears to god, because this shit cannot be made up.

After this section they were (thankfully) given a 30 minute lunch break, where Oscar whisked Lando away from the long-awaited canteen line and into an empty meeting room.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Oscar led with, visibly annoyed.

“Whatever do you mean, Osco?” He replied, acting all innocent.

“You know exactly what I mean, you little brat. You just just do or say things like that in a work setting!”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Oscar surged forward and kissed Lando, suddenly. As their lips moved as one, the younger managed to tangle his hands into the curly locks of the other’s baby mullet. Lando’s head dipped to the side as his mouth opened, allowing more room for Oscar to kiss him when he stepped back to reach the table. Their lips parted for a moment of air before continuing with their previous endeavours as Oscar’s hands left the older man’s hair to hoist him onto the meeting table. The Aussie leant forward to place a hand behind the Vrit and the other on his thigh, stabling them both as they kissed with all the pent up emotions they’d had for the last few months. When they broke apart, their chests heavily rose and fell when Lando broke the silence.

“If I knew all I had to do was tease you, I would’ve done it back in Austin ‘23,” He let out a cute little giggle at the end.

“If you said something, I would've been yours in Miami, mate.”

“You did not just call me mate after we just had a very heated make-out session in a work meeting room, you douche.”

“Sorry, would you prefer Lan, or Sweetie?”

“Yes, actually. Yes I would.”

“Duly noted. But just before you say anything, I don’t want this to be casual. At all. Because I really love you and I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Jesus, I’m not that much of an idiot. Of course this isn’t casual, I love you too, and I would very much like to be your boyfriend, Osc.”

“Thank god. But now, let's get some food, I can bet we’re both hungry, and we’ll talk more tonight, I swear.” Oscar proclaimed as he fixed his appearance in the reflection of the meeting room windows, then Lando’s so it wasn’t obvious they’d just been kissing.

“Yippee, you're paying, by the way.”

“At this point when do I not?” For that comment, the younger received a pinch on the arm as they made their way back to civilisation.

Thankfully, there was only one section left for the course: uncommon conditions. That was fairly simple; just look for any dog tags or bracelets, no big deal. This, however, caused the worst one-liner Oscar’s ever heard. “Wanna test my circulation? I’m sure the blood’s going to all the right places.”

Shockingly this was the only thing that really caught any attention, because Oscar let out a howl of laughter at his stupid boyfriend. But Lando was his, and that's all that mattered

[macgyvermedical]

I am DYING to know about your vendetta against space blankets

SO glad you asked.

So everyone who has never used one thinks space blankets are the best thing since SAM Splints, right?

They are all WRONG.

See. Picture this: It is 2016. It is April. It is Ohio. It is 39F and Snowing. There is still, tenaciously, snow on the ground from where it had fallen the night before. It is not even damp, but verifiably WET and MUDDY.

I am student-teaching Wilderness First Aid for the last time before I become a real instructor.

I am testing students out by having them rescue me. Which means I am laying on the COLD WET SNOWY MUDDY ground with a fake broken leg and concussion. Which means I am also COLD WET SNOWY AND MUDDY. Just like the ground I am, again, Laying On.

I am wearing a (cold wet snowy muddy) long sleeved t-shirt and jeans.

"You'll be fine" my Instructor Trainer told me. He said: "By now they should know how to rescue you and get you warm super quick."

Spoiler Alert: They didn't.

Every single one of them. LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM came out one at a time and threw a fucking space blanket over me (not under me, or around me) and did exactly zero (0) further temperature management.

If you have never met a space blanket they are the THINNEST piece of plastic and you have to use them in a VERY SPECIFIC way to get ANY benefit from them. THis was not that way.

Half of the space blankets, apparently knowing their uselessness, had the ABSOLUTE GALL to blow away anyway (at which point at least 3 of the students went chasing after them like my life depended on it).

Because, oh yeah. Was also WImDY.

I don't even know who told them about the space blankets because you know what hadn't?

The CLASS.

Because I was there when the other student instructor taught them about hypothermia wraps.

He had even Done a Great Job.

So I thought.

For 4 hours, however, I was trapped in COLD WET SNOWY MUDDY WINDY but wasn't being rescued 14 times in a row into a snuggly hypothermia wrap like I was promised.

And yes, you could probably blame this at least partially on me for not tapping out, but you see I was Committed To The Bit(TM).

I don't think my core temperature has ever been so low in my life (except for the time in 12th grade where I went out in the cold wet snowy windy to do some hypothermia research for a fic- that was also pretty chilly in space blankets' defense).

BUt, that is why I have a personal problemo with space blankets: They suck if you don't use them exactly perfectly and no one knows how to use them exactly perfectly. And we don't teach that because honestly even when you use them perfectly they pretty much suck.

Except if you're using them to be waterproof. I guess they're pretty good at that.

[lemedstudent2021]

hiiiiiii :)

so i'm writing some fanfic where the characters get into a plane crash and have to survive on their own with limited medical supplies/knowledge (the characters are age 12-15 but some of them have first aid knowledge to an extent) and i have some Questions (if u don't mind me asking)

(before i start this is SHAMELESSLY inspired by the greys anatomy season 8 finale where the plane crashes)

can you use fire to cauterise open wounds to stop bleeding? or would that just bring further complications?

can you use safety pins as makeshift staples (if you loop them so the skin shuts properly)

the only character who knows how to properly suture needs sutures to stop bleeding out, is it realistic for him to instruct the two other least injured people to suture him up (he can't use his hands) without blacking out from pain?

injuries the characters have: (what is the treatment protocol for each of these?)

one character gets her leg broken with bone exposed (eventually it has to be amputated)

one dislocates his shoulder

one person's hand gets stuck in the debris

someone gets debris in her stomach

one person just has superficial wounds

one character gets debris stuck in her leg

they all have heavy bruising and scrapes as well but those are treatable

things the characters do know how to do:

tie a makeshift tourniquet (advice: do not practise tying tourniquets on yourself because it's quite painful)

suture (one person)

insert a needle into someone's veins (same person)

apply compression bandages to stop bleeding

other super basic stuff (apply plasters, tie an arm sling, etc)

the very basics of cauterising a wound

supplies they have:

tranquiliser guns (limited, and the tranq guns are suited to taking down dinosaurs but they work on humans too)

hand sanitiser and rubbing alcohol (limited)

two basic first aid kits with needle and thread

a knife

cloth to use as bandages and tourniquet material

oxygen (from the plane)

possibly an iv drip???

matchsticks (limited) to make fire to sterilise things and to heat the knife for cauterisation

debris from the plane for splints

food and water (limited)

also how does one put a dislocated joint back into its socket? particularly the shoulder?

sorry if this is super long and for asking so many questions lol. feel free to answer whenever :) and it's completely fine if u don't know (duh) i can research myself but i am sure you're more accurate than a search engine

hope u are having a wonderful day <3

beloved hiiii :D

oooh exciting!! ngl i havent watched any medical shows lol so i dont have any pop culture knowledge (the writing in said shows isnt always the most accurate as u probably already know lol) BUTT tis a famous trope/ au setting so lets see what we got >:)

(also ofc??? love answering ur questions and stuff in general!! and if i dont anything we can always learn together XD)

disclaimer i will be freestyling these okay i dont have any experience in trauma surgery lol but heres what i do got right off the bat:

--

aight first off cauterisation is indeed used to stop severe bleeding *when all other means have been used* and an open flame is definately not the way to go for tha (burns can be extremely dangerous and a. cause fluid loss and b. increase the risk for nasty infections that can lead to sepsis and death)

instead id suggest heating up metal (like a scrap from the aircraft or sum) via the fire and then applying it to the wound :3

--

assuming u mean the surgical staples: yes and no? lol obv since this is an emergency there is little space to be picky abt equipment, so honestly safety pins would work ig but i think theyd keep coming loose (oh the agony)

i messed around with one of mine just now and the line that locks into the head (?) is pretty straight so i kinda doubt itll be able to like close flesh the way one imagines it to but its literally fiction lol we can suspend our belief far more than this. as long as its closed properly go for it lmao i give u my blessing XD

--

yeah sure!! since the patient is awake and aware enough to be able to assess and give instruction i see no reason as to why not lol.

btw in case of an amputation or extremely severe bleeding id recommend using a tourniquet (lots of tutorials online!) to compress the artery and minimise the bleeding :D (ooh maybe u can use the cautery thing here too)

--

OMG I READ THE FUTURE AHA (my condolences) okay so the amputation will be at the knee level (which afaik is the hardest kind of amputation to perform joint wise lmao. good luck with that) presumably. theyll need a tourniquette as mentioned above, very sharp knife or something to hack away at the flesh and tendons (very tough) and ligaments around the knee socket (even tougher i think). and lots of bandages for the stump

now had they recieived the needed medical attention i doubt theyd need to go up to the knee (there are shin level amputations) but since theyre kids and all alone with no guide or anything idk if theyll be able to save the lower leg bones or even cut though them if they could (i doubt med supplies include saws lol) so yeah thats my reasoning at least.

--

dislocation is a relatively easy fix (compared to everyhting else lol) but it depends on where the humerus (arm bone) is:

based on which kind of dislocation the direction of pull is determined, but again relatively simple no blood no mess

there are a few maneuvers/ techniques u might want to look up like hippocratic and spaso/ reverse stimson (both for anterior btw)

--

a hand getting stuck i assume means impaled? oof thats going to hurt. well broken hand bones are pretty rough to deal with in the wild, since all bones need proper realignment to avoid further pain and complications when the body heals itself (did u know that if a fracture heals wrong they have to break it and reset it? yeah.) so im not sure honestly ig it depends on what u have in mind for them

again not too sure what stomach means exactly; are her guts poking out? just bleeding from scratches? depends on what ur going for!! lmk btw and feel free to send more asks ill look up and find what we need to know :D

impaled leg i take it? as the above u need to know what condition shes in exactly like arterial puncture probably means severe bleeding and death honestly, lmk what u have in mind!!

--

superficial wounds need cleaning and patching up, sometimes if theres like unclean areas of said wounds they need to be scraped off (debridement) esp if theres like scraps or dirt or anything on the wound. what fun!

again for the cautery i think an open flame would heat up the knife much faster than a match lol (also they need to be preserved. also also they wouldnt last long enough i think)

not at all pookie i had so much fun going over everything!! hopefully this is coherent and useful for u ajsdhsjjdhfn

[winnie-wine]

Fantasy First Aid Common Mistakes

This is going to be about some first aid mistakes I see in the fantasy genre, but specifically before the magic fix its and stuff, where the first aid is a bit more grounded. This applies to fantasy because this similar type of WRITING (not medical) advice from paramedics is all through a lense of "it's going to get fixed in a hospital in like 20 min anyway" while wilderness medicine is "I may be out here for days before receiving any kind of help." An EMT in a city can throw on a sam splint and an ace wrap on a broken arm and it's fine for the 30 min drive+waiting room time, but that is not acceptable to be worn for hours-days in the wilderness because it gets too uncomfortable after a while, and may rub and chafe, for instance.

So who am I, and why can I talk about this? I am a Wilderness First Responder. This is a certification, NOT a medical license, and I am giving advice for WRITING injury treatment, not treating them irl. Brad Mondo gives tutorials about cutting and dyeing hair and we all have SEEN from his hairdresser reacts videos that the ability to do it comes from PRACTICE, not how-to's, or he'd be out of his youtube career, frankly. So, I'm going to tell you guys what I know so you can write a good field medicine scene, and you guys aren't going to sue me because we all acknowledge you aren't getting hands on practice through a tumblr post, deal?

So that being said, the topics I'm yapping about will be: Moving the patient, concussions and sleeping, CPR, broken bones, and arrow wounds.

So let's jump in. Your healer, uhhh Hallie, we'll say, finds a patient, Patty. First question

Do we stay, or do we go?

And the answer depends on "is there substantial benefit to moving the patient?" If you're in an actively erupting volcano, yeah, move. If Hallie is in a quiet forest, she doesn't need to move her to bandage her up, unless the bandages aren't with them, in which case, if say her leg is broken, Hallie might consider going and grabbing them, while Patty stays there with a weapon, depending on how far away camp is. Did Patty fall off a cliff, and her spine is broken, and in the process of moving her, Hallie will make Patty paralyzed, but Magnus the Magic Healer can do the macarena and fix anything wrong? If so, don't worry about the temporary inconvenience of being paralyzed, get her to help! It's all about "will moving the patient help them?"

One time I read a fic where a patient had a seizure. They were already lying on a mattress, and I suspect the author had heard "if someone is going to have a seizure, lie them on the ground" but hadn't thought through that that advice is because you don't want a standing patient to fall down, not that the floor has inherent seizure-healing properties. It would be better to leave them on the bed, clear of obstacles, because a seizing patient is going to get less bruises and less of a concussion banging their head against a mattress than a hard floor.

Concussions- should the patient sleep?

yeah. The wive's tale of "don't sleep with a concussion" comes from people getting a hit to their head, falling asleep, and dying. They attributed the death to the concussion. In actuality, it came from intracranial bleeding increasing pressure on the brain until it basically squeezes the brain through the spinal columnn like a tube of toothpaste.

This is not a problem that can be solved by keeping the patient awake. To be honest, if you're in a wilderness context (delayed access to definitive care, hostile environment, limited resources), this isn't a problem I could really fix at all. I would get them out of the field at the concussion, and hope that's all it is. But, that may not be an option in your fictional world, so unless you have magic that can treat this, the patient won't do very well.

So how do you write this? If Hallie is supposed to be a medical professional, she would let Patty sleep, because sleep helps a concussion, which Patty definitely has. Hallie would also periodically wake Patty up to see if Patty is getting more confused, less alert, less coordinated, etc. and otherwise mentally compromised. If that happens, Patty either gets magical treatment or dies ig.

CPR

CPR is chest compressions combined with rescue breaths. The compression-only CPR was a COVID compromise that acknowledged no one wanted the mouth to mouth contact, and said that compressions are better than nothing.

Let's just play fact or fiction with common things I've seen in writing

"Patty isn't breathing! Hallie should start CPR!" FICTION. Hallie should check for a pulse. If no pulse, CPR is appropriate. If there IS a pulse, then Hallie only needs to do the rescue breaths part of CPR. DO NOT give CPR to a patient that HAS A PULSE. Plz.

"Good CPR will always break the ribs" FICTION. It usually does, though, to the point that if the ribs AREN'T broken, it probably wasn't good CPR, so go ahead and write some broken ribs into your story. We love whump : )

"The ratio of compressions to breath is 30:2" FACT. Yep. I once read a fic where the healer only did like 4 compressions in each cycle and that will do nothing, because it takes like 8 or so to build up enough pressure to pump blood.

"Sing 'Stayin Alive' For the right rate!" FACT. Yep. The range of good CPR is 100-120 bpm. Stayin alive is 120. I will caution that you tend t rush it, so personally I aim a little slower. Also, you're probably not going to have Fantasy Bee Gee's so I will also say that a lot of military marches, Sousa marches in particular, are also in the 120 range, and more likely for your healer character to have heard and kinda vaguely remember.

Setting Bones

Patty has a broken leg and the bone is sticking out. I have seen people write the healer pushing the bone back in and oh my god it was so painful. So you know when you break a stick and it has jagged edges? That's ur bones too. When Hallie pushes it in, she's going to break off more bone, which is the opposite of helpful. Hallie needs to pull the ends apart to allow them to line back up.

Pardon me, I tried. What happens when the bone is pushed in, is that it breaks off more fragments to float around in the injury. Please don't do that.

Arrow wounds/Impaled Objects

This one's really fun because we're getting to the end of my scope of practice. I cannot close wounds, by sewing them, glueing them, etc. I am taught to control bleeding, stabilize, and then evacuate. This is a good first step for Hallie, and then her Magic Land Medical License can let her or someone else stitch them up later. But what I'm going to talk about still holds.

If someone has been impaled but not all the way through, should someone:

Cut the arrow shaft off? If they're stabilizing it until Patty gets to Hallie, then maybe? The thing is, if Hallie's just going to pull it out, it doesn't really matter how long or short the shaft is, if it's an arrow or javelin. If it's debris and pinning Patty in a position Hallie can't help her, then yeah cut it. But cutting it will jerk around and aggravate the wound and if you, the author, can't see the benefit of your healer doing it, there probably isn't one.

Force the arrow through the rest of the way? No! Why would that help? If the arrow has a jagged head, and they can literally see it through the skin I can see the argument, but flesh is soft, and if it went in, it can come out with some careful digging. Pull the arrow out. Please. Cause here's the thing: Stitches won't control bleeding deeper down. Packing the wound will, and packing it takes a LOOOOT of shoving gauze in. If there's two holes, the gauze will go in one and out the other. If there's only one, then the gauze will stop at the end of the wound, and thus Hallie can get enough pressure to control the bleed.

@sirenwriterxxx you mentioned that this would be cool. Here it is!