#first responder training

[er-cryptid]

Cardiogenic Shock Treatment

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[mid-nightowl]

paramedic/EMT dick is so good omg :o i hadn’t thought about that one

i have seen social worker dick which also felt really appropriate (also love that for jason) but!!! EMT actually feels like it works better to me???

thank u for putting that thought in my head~

ahhhhhhh!! i am so ecstatic i could put the thought of emt/paramedic!dick in your head hehehehe

paramedic!dick is so special to me<3 it very much i think hits what dick needs and wants out of his civilian life but also directly influences his vigilantism too

my main three takeaways are these:

it's a highly rewarding but deeply traumatizing career and it scratches his innate need to help people without violence & fear

it's a little bit more training than a police officer but i think covers a field of knowledge dick knows but doesn't know intimately like he does criminal justice or law. it would also benefit his "night" job to be more equipped to handle traumatic injuries

ems schedules are chaotic and all over the place especially if the garage is down a paramedic or ALS provider or just overall understaffed but the overall structure of it would be good for dick (if he can balance his work-vigilantism life healthily, depending on how you write him)

[fromtheseventhhell]

i have a friend who very adamantly tells me that ned not thinking about hating rhaegar or several pov characters only having nice things to say about rhaegar is on purpose so they can portray him as being the worst character to ever exist in the next book LMFAO

Well...sorry to your friend, but that's not how subervisons are written (and certainly not how Geroge is writing them). George's reputation for shocking moments + the lack of material for 10+ years has really done a number on discussions in this fandom. We're at the point where any analysis that has basis in the books is ignored for being "too simple" and people are coming up with theories with no evidence other than "that's just the feeling I get". I'm not even surprised at your friend for having this take when they're in the same fandom that debates Jon's parentage because Rhaegar + Lyanna being his parents is "too obvious". We can figure it out because there are actual hints to it in the books, but it will still be a "shocking" revelation when it comes out (if not to us then at least to the characters).

It's the same with Rhaegar being portrayed as a decent person, or Rhaelya being portrayed as romantic; they both subvert expectations! People need to realize that we weren't meant to have all of this time between ADWD and TWOW to overanalyze the books... sometimes it's just not that deep. Our first perception of Rhaegar + his relationship with Lyanna is overshadowed by the fact that we barely know anything about either character. Their existence is intentionally vague and we slowly learn more about their characters through people who knew them + Dany and Arya being their literary mirrors. The problem is that people make theories based on them despite the new information that we learn. "Rhaegar is actually a terrible person and we know this because people think about him positively" is the kind of twist we would get if AGOT was released today by incompetent writers like D&D😭

[artinandwritin]

My favourite pair of siblings ever (probably, at least from those ive created)

[tonguetyd]

Bing bong

Ariana Grande what’s up mama, come to Coney Island, take a spin on the Cyclone …I miss you

[quelsentiment]

.

[parameddic]

open! here’s an open, your muse is in a train that crashed(?) alongside TK, either they can be injured and he can look after them ooooor they can be not-too-badly-injured and he can tell them “i need another set of hands get up and start helping”

TK was upside-down.

This was a strange sensation to wake up with mostly because he was used, typically, to being right-side up. There was a smell of something, metal torn free from its mechanics (oil?) or blood or maybe both of those things, and a creaking of something not quite hanging on – the overhead light, TK realised. It had come free and was now trying to come to rest on the side of the cabin (a train – that’s right; he was on a train), because the cabin was sideways. The light tried very hard to stay on. It flickered and intermittently died, and in a minute whatever electricity source it was using was going to be cut, if emergency services were headed this way. They’d be in the dark again.

Someone was crying. TK, thrown to where he’d landed, was bleeding. He didn’t move at first, a quick self-assessment for the time being (like being hurt might keep him down; it would not have). The smell of blood was so strong and so vibrant here because he’d hit his head pretty hard, almost definitely hard enough to cause concussion just based on the width and depth of the injury when TK pressed a hand against it, wincing, looking for sponginess around his skull. Nothing. Intact, just sore. The blood, from somewhere near the crown of his head, dripped down his face and along his left arm, which itself was - sprained, maybe?

He’d been holding on with that arm, to the strap in the cabin when the train had come free from the tracks.

His leg, the right one, was fractured, but he could feel it, it was not close to the femoral artery, and when he moved his toes he watched them wriggle. No tingles. Probably no spinal damage.

Okay, so pretty good, on the whole of it. His phone next: completely destroyed. There was something - the material of a seat? - across his chest, and TK pushed it off, blinking against the bright of the light which seemed to get brighter when he sat up (concussion, definitely). There was crying, he remembered.

The first person TK came to was still.

TK passed over her body (“Okay,” he tapped her ankle twice, and that was all the processing he afforded it: okay), and in the direction of the cries.

“Hello?” his voice sounded strange. Cleared his throat and tried again. How many people had been in this cabin to begin with? Twenty, thirty? And that was not to mention the rest of the train, but he had no way of getting to them, for now. Maybe he’d try, once this cabin was looked after, if he was still able to drag himself, then. “I’m a paramedic, if you can hear me, yell out!”

[imabillyami]

I need today to be over already.

[cuteasducks9]

[er-cryptid]

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[byanyan]

the way byan doesn't know how to react when someone treats them gently........ yeah. thinkin about it tonight

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

lads i think my ankle might genuinely be broken :/ like it's not a joke anymore :////

[cryptid-on-a-string]

i feel like your workplace should give you financial compensation or free therapy or whatever if they are the cause of making you cry a certain number of times

[guideaus]

god im remembering my one post about how i mentioned sexual assault and misogyny in trigun, but i didnt know how to describe it in a post out of fear of someone replying "Well, it's there to show the world is gritty", and someone commented asking me to elaborate, and then their response back when i did try and point out what i meant DID essentially say "actually, its good because it describes the world well" 😭😭

[parameddic]

open! here's an open, your muse is in a train that crashed(?) alongside TK, either they can be injured and he can look after them ooooor they can be not-too-badly-injured and he can tell them "i need another set of hands get up and start helping"

TK was upside-down.

This was a strange sensation to wake up with mostly because he was used, typically, to being right-side up. There was a smell of something, metal torn free from its mechanics (oil?) or blood or maybe both of those things, amd a creaking of something not quite hanging on -- the overhead light, TK realised. It had come free and was now trying to come to rest on the side of the cabin (a train -- that's right; he was on a train), because the cabin was sideways. The light tried very hard to stay on. It flickered and intermittently died, and in a minute whatever electricity source it was using was going to be cut, if emergency services were headed this way. They'd be in the dark again.

Someone was crying. TK, thrown to where he'd landed, was bleeding. He didn't move at first, a quick self-assessment for the time being (like being hurt might keep him down; it would not have). The smell of blood was so strong and so vibrant here because he'd hit his head pretty hard, almost definitely hard enough to cause concussion just based on the width and depth of the injury when TK pressed a hand against it, wincing, looking for sponginess around his skull. Nothing. Intact, just sore. The blood, from somewhere near the crown of his head, dripped down his face and along his left arm, which itself was - sprained, maybe?

He'd been holding on with that arm, to the strap in the cabin when the train had come free from the tracks.

His leg, the right one, was fractured, but he could feel it, it was not close to the femoral artery, and when he moved his toes he watched them wriggle. No tingles. Probably no spinal damage.

Okay, so pretty good, on the whole of it. His phone next: completely destroyed. There was something - the material of a seat? - across his chest, and TK pushed it off, blinking against the bright of the light which seemed to get brighter when he sat up (concussion, definitely). There was crying, he remembered.

The first person TK came to was still.

TK passed over her body ("Okay," he tapped her ankle twice, and that was all the processing he afforded it: okay), and in the direction of the cries.

"Hello?" his voice sounded strange. Cleared his throat and tried again. How many people had been in this cabin to begin with? Twenty, thirty? And that was not to mention the rest of the train, but he had no way of getting to them, for now. Maybe he'd try, once this cabin was looked after, if he was still able to drag himself, then. "I'm a paramedic, if you can hear me, yell out!"