#alcohol. hydrogen peroxide. gauze

[ekleipsi]

A drunk bar fight.

Something Ashe wasn't to keen to get involved with. But one thing ked to another and because he was 'such a gentleman' did the constellation not let some guy harass a girl that was seated near him. A few tussles later, fist thrown wildly and a glass bottle shattered and used, did ashe find himself seated outside the bar on the ground. The bartender tried getting him to call an ambulance but he refused.

Instead was his own phone pulled out, bloodied finger smearing gore across screen as he searched for Maddoxs number. Hesitation. A sigh. Maybe he should have taken the offer for an ambulance. Jittered typing vibrates the phone before hands hang loosely over knees, the constellation trying to regulate his breathing.

[Txt] come to XX bar on 5th.

A few seconds pass before another...

[Txt] please.

Hand then tosses the phone aside only to press against the gash that lengthened across his waist. It wasn't deep enough for an ER. They could take care of it at home, right? Each passing second brought forth a dizziness, tongue circling maw only to taste iron. Maddox would make it before he passed out... right?

--- Sandbag in their apartment had seen better days- wrapped up in duct tape for multiple reasons and swinging from the ceiling, heavy and bloated with its own weight. Maddox had fingerless gloves on, sweating profusely from the intense work out he'd been going at on the bag itself. A series of jabs, hooks, and guards to keep on his toes when confronting boxers; MMA often had him in mixed positions, but this wasn't exactly a good time to work on his lower half given the space. Instead, abdominal and pectoral muscles tensed and flexed beneath exertion with grunt after grunt, careful breathing exhaled.

--- After one more series of reps did he allow himself a break. Silver white locks were sticky with sweat, clinging to his face in some places before he took a long swig of water and toweled off the sweat. This was always a good distraction from his thoughts- especially those regarding the Scorpio, but irony came in the form of a light on his cell the moment he sat down to breathe. A request to come to the bar, from roommate?

--- Eyes rolled, immediately lifting device to palm to text back something about getting drunk alone, though that was when the please filtered onto his screen. Jacket is grabbed, sneakers yanked onto his feet; he doesn't care that he's without shirt and still in training shorts, he's out the door in seconds after receiving the plea. Ashe never said please, not for anything which only meant it was someone else on his phone (an issue), or something was truly wrong (an issue!).

--- Rushing down the stairs and onto the street, it was only a couple blocks away of him half sprinting towards said bar to find the Scorpio seated outside. ' Ashe? Ashe! ' a loud snap of gruff voice, approaching quickly to find the blood smeared over fingers and phone alike- the sway in roommate's frame made him hiss, squatting down to steady the shorter. ' Hey, hey! Look at me. What the fucking happened? ' Was now really the best time for questions? When the others responses came in slurred tones, he could only roll his eyes. Drunk and injured.

--- ' You've got to be fucking kidding me... ' he sighed heavily, pursing his lips. Without thinking too much more on the matter, he stuffed the others phone into jacket and...scooped him right up. Bridal style, carrying the lighter all the way back to their apartment with a small grunt and a couple of stops to take a breath...though once inside? He could at least more comfortably settle the boxer onto the couch and go to grab the first aid kit. ' You can't fall asleep, you asshole. It'll be bad if you fell asleep. You know the drill. ' he muttered out, settling down beside him.

--- Being fighters, they both understood that staying awake was paramount, to at least avoid the potential and rule out concussions. The very first thing he began to do was press a damp towel against the...rather large wound. Larger than he'd originally seen, once he'd all but shredded Ashe's shirt from his form, though it took much longer than he'd hoped to staunch the bleeding...and who knew how much the Scorpio had lost. ' Maybe...we should do to the hospital, Ashe... ' he whispered finally, worry swelling in his chest and causing bile to rise in his throat. When had he grown to worry so much, they'd both had injuries before. Forehead pressed forward along with his palm once more, resting it against smaller's shoulders. ' Not gonna forgive you, bastard, not if you end up biting it over some shitty bar fight. '

[macgyvermedical]

Wound Care For Adults

So the wife was on backpacking reddit and found that a lot of people can't tell the difference between wounds you need some vaseline and a bandaid for, wounds that need a little home TLC, wounds you need to go to an urgent care for, and wounds you actually need to go to the emergency department for, so we're gonna talk about that here.

Wounds that need some vaseline and a bandaid:

A blister that popped

A non-gaping cut

A skinned knee (small amount of fresh, shallow road rash with nothing embedded)

Keep in mind that you should NOT use rubbing alcohol, iodine, mercurochrome, or hydrogen peroxide on any of these. It will just hurt and potentially kill healthy cells in the wound. Neosporin or other antibiotic ointment is okay if you happen to have it, but the antibiotics themselves don't last long and are generally not worth the extra money.

Wash the wound with plain tap water, pat it dry with a clean cloth or piece of gauze, dab on a little petroleum jelly (Vaseline) and slap a bandage on that beby.

Wounds that need some TLC at home:

A small, shallow burn with nothing stuck to it

A slightly infected open blister or non-gaping cut

Slightly infected road rash or shallow road rash with something embedded in it

Cut gaping less than 1/4 inch (1/2 cm)

Small, shallow burn: Right after you get the burn, run it under cool tap water for 5-10 minutes, even if you think it's already cool. This will help clean the wound and stop the burn from getting any deeper. Do not ice. Do not put oil or butter or vaseline on the wound. Use an over the counter burn gel and a bandaid to hold it in place.

Slightly infected small wound/road rash: You'll know it's slightly infected if there's redness and swelling around the edges (up to 2cm), if there is drainage, and if it smells bad. It will also probably hurt more than you think it should. For this you'll want to do hot compresses about 4 times a day for 20 minutes per time until the infection goes away. To do this, get a pot and get water hot enough that it is uncomfortable to touch. Then put a wash cloth in that water, pull it out, wring it out, and hold it against the wound. It should be uncomfortably hot and just a little painful. When it cools down, dip it back in the pot, wring it out, and do it again. At the end of 20 minutes the whole area around the wound should be pink.

Road rash with something embedded: If there's a tiny stone or pieces of visible dirt on this section of road rash, you'll need to clean it with a moderately forceful stream of water. You can do this with an irrigation syringe you can get from the pharmacy, or you can make your own using a plastic zipper bag. Fill a bag with water, then cut a teeny tiny hole in one of the corners. Squeeze the bag to make a stream of water, then direct that stream at the wound. This will take potentially a lot of water. Keep at it until there is nothing visible in the wound, then treat with vaseline and a bandaid.

A cut gaping less than 1/4 inch: If this is on your face, genitals, or hands and you care about scarring, go to an emergency department. If this is on another part of your body and you're okay with a scar, keep reading. Stop bleeding with pressure. Clean the wound by running clean tap water through it and pat the edges dry. Make some butterfly bandages out of strong tape- I recommend silk medical tape, but in a pinch you could use duct tape or similar.

Starting on one end, tape down one side of a butterfly bandage, pull it across the cut, and tape it to the other side. Move a 1/4 inch down the cut, and tape another one down, then another, until you have taped the length of the cut. Put some kind of breathable bandage on top of this.

Wounds that need to go to an urgent care:

Cut gaping more than 1/4 inch but that you can still stop bleeding with pressure.

Open blister, cut, burn, or road rash that is draining thick, yellow-or-white drainage and is not getting better with hot compresses, but you don't have a fever

Stop any bleeding, clean by running water over the injury, and go to an urgent care or your family doctor if you happen to be able to get in for a same-day appointment.

Wounds that need to go to an emergency department:

Any cut that gapes on the face, palm of the hand, or genitals

Infection with streaks or with which you have a fever/chills, or for which the red area grows by more than a cm in an hour

Burn larger than the palm of your hand or that is more than skin deep

Any wound that was spurting blood or that needed a tourniquet to stop bleeding

Go to the emergency department as soon as possible, they'll take care of it.

[writersdrug]

The Good Friend

Chapter 1. A New Hobby

Summary: Johnny regularly checks up on Ghost after he sustained a bullet to the hip on their most recent deployment. It's already too late for him to escape, once he sees what's kept his beloved lieutenant so occupied over the past few days.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, kidnapping, implied violence, restraining, psychotic behavior, blood, forced to help in kidnapping, obsessive behavior. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE TOPICS. By clicking "Keep Reading" you are consenting to be responsible for the media you consume.

A/N: The people have spoken

Simon on medical leave: a disaster and a headache for the rest of the 141.

There's a daily text along the lines of "Let me know when we get shipped out next." It never mattered how many times Price responded with "You're not joining us for a while. Find a hobby, Simon." He was persistent in coming back to work as soon as possible - shattered hip be damned.

Price had given Soap the job of checking up on the poor brute. "Maybe he misses the usual company." He'd say. "Go see 'im, check in with the muppet."

Soap was a good friend, but there was only so much grumbling he could stomach from Simon. Those "check-ins" would turn into a pity party, with Simon saying "I should be out there, helpin' you lot. Only wastin' away in 'ere. Losin' my head." And it was true - every time Johnny visited, there was an open can of beer on the coffee table, or a glass of whiskey in his hand. The bottle of prescription, opioid pain killers on the kitchen table. Some ill-advised coping mechanism within arm's reach.

It hurt Johnny to see it, it really did. He cared about Simon, missed him, would do anything to get his beloved L.T. back on the team. But he knew the man needed rest and recovery, despite how much it was sending Simon into a spiral. Johnny offered to help clean up his place, but Simon angrily denied the offer. "Don't need a bloody caretaker." He spat.

Just tryin' to be a good friend, Soap wanted to say, but instead he answered with a slam of Simon's front door and a hushed "feckin' bastard."

Johnny was tired of it. When the fuck was this medical leave supposed to end? Apparently, in two weeks ("thank the feckin' lord") -

But, Soap soon discovered, Simon had requested more time off.

Price stated he'd said something about "still not feeling right", which immediately had Soap confused. That old bawbag would've been back in the game the second the bullet was out of his hip, if it wasn't for regulations. It festered in the back of his mind all day: why would Simon do that? What could possibly hold his attention more than the task force? More than Johnny?

There was only one way to find out.

Soap stands in front of Simon's door, knocking loudly against the dark wood. An unexpected visit, which Simon might be frustrated by - but Soap is dying to see what's got his lieutenant so preoccupied. Hopefully, he hasn't fallen into a pit of depression, choosing to drink himself to death, rather than come back to the team.

However, after just a few moments of standing on his porch, Simon answers it rather quickly. And he looks happy. Delighted, even.

"'Bout time, Johnny." Simon says, stepping aside to let him in. "Was wondering if you got lost."

"Was wonderin' if you'd gone crazy." Soap banters back, kicking the door shut behind him. "Cap said ye want more time?"

Simon chuckled quietly, locking the deadbolt behind Soap. He shoves his hands - gloved hands - into his sweatshirt pocket. "Took his advice. Found a hobby."

"Lemme guess: knittin' me a Christmas sweater?"

"You fuckin' wish."

It's good. It makes Soap sigh with relief (internally), seeing Simon in such good spirits. He tosses the pack of blems onto the coffee table and follows Simon into the kitchen. The smell of rubbing alcohol hits him before he sees the counter; bandages, gauze, bloody gauze, hydrogen peroxide, and an open suture kit.

He stops in the doorway to the kitchen, his teeth bared in a wince. "Shite, Ghost- ye reopen tha' bullet wound?" he says, lifting up one of the bloodied pieces of gauze.

"Hm?" Simon turns to face him, then looks at what he's holding. "Oh- nah, I'm fine. Luvie here bumped her head."

Johnny looks up, confused, following Simon's back with his eyes as he makes his way into the dining room - his mind goes blank when he sees the poor, bloodied thing, tied to one of the chairs.

You're staring back at him, hair messed and blood dried against a nasty gash on your forehead. Fabric is stuffed into your mouth, with a strip of duct tape securing it around your head. Your eyes light up with hope as they take Johnny in; you're heaving, poor thing, breaths more like whines as you fight through the delirium of your concussion. Your right ankle is swollen and a nasty shade of purple. Blood all over the chair, your thighs, and now, Johnny finally notices, Simon's hands.

"Dinged 'erself pretty good on my bookcase." Simon says, too calmly, his broad frame standing behind the chair you're strapped into. "Slippery lil' thing, she is."

Simon rips the duct tape off - your voice immediately fills the room, echoing inside Soap's head with your begging and pleading, please please please get me out of here, please help me, he kidnapped me, he's a monster, please-

Johnny has to look away - there's too much noise, too much going on - his eyes trail down the dark hall and into Simon's bedroom. The bookshelf is toppled over, volumes strewn about the floor, a lamp shattered on the ground and casting an eerie angle of light through the room. He hears the sound of his own blood pumping, his chest and throat feel tight, mind racing a million miles a second. Did his LT do this? His Simon?

"Johnny."

He turns back to you. The duct tape is back in place, and now you're weakly thrashing about as much as you can - which really isn't much. Ghost is staring at Soap, one of his hands wrapped around your shoulder, knuckles white with how hard he's gripping you; which is most likely what's making you cry so much.

"Need ya to help stitch 'er up." Simon says, his eyes cold. It's an order. "'Fore she bleeds out on us."

Johnny feels like he's going to vomit. He needs to stop thinking, to stop shaking, and do something. His lieutenant's kidnapped a bloody civilian, for Christ's sake. Why? And what the fuck did he do to her?

"Won't let me touch 'er. Hard to stitch the wound when she's throwin' a fit - damn near stabbed 'er in the eye. I'll hold 'er while you do th' job."

Johnny finally inhales after holding his breath for so long. He stumbles backwards into the kitchen, remembering where the front door is, thinking he should have been in his car and on the phone with the police by now. If he does, though, Simon will be gone forever. Locked up in prison, far away from Soap. How can he save this? How can he save you, and him? "Simon, ye- ye can't be serious, mate-"

"If you walk out tha' fuckin' door I'll kill 'er before you reach it."

That ruffles your feathers. You're whimpering again, screaming against the gag - at him? At Ghost? He freezes where he stands, trying to remember his training. Act first, think later. Do what keeps the most people alive in the moment. That's what Simon had taught him. The same man who was threatening to kill you, ironically, based on what Soap decided to do.

"Get the sutures off the counter." Simon ordered, apparently sensing Soap's inner turmoil. He knows Johnny wouldn't leave you there, not after the threat.

He couldn't.

Soap exhaled heavily through his teeth, forcing his muscles to move. He snatched the suture kit off the counter and stormed back into the living room. He heard Ghost hum in approval as he slapped it down on the table.

"You do it." he said, his voice low and full with grit. "Ye stitch 'er up, I'll help ye take her to the hospital. We come back n' clean up-"

"Shut the fuck up-" Simon growled out to Soap, gripping your chin in his large hand and yanking your head back against his abdomen. "Get to work. Don't let 'er die on me, now."

Die. Die. You had a concussion and a headwound, but you weren't dying - still, he knew that wasn't what Ghost meant. If Soap didn't help, you would die, one way or another. He had to think of this differently, for the time being. He was helping you. He'd take this little by little - first, patch you up. Figure out what the fuck to do with you later; also, how to keep this from ruining Simon's career, because he couldn't leave the task force. Soap wouldn't let that happen.

So, he took the needle and sutures in his hand, and knelt on the floor, between your restrained legs. Ignored the way you screamed and thrashed, only held still by Ghost's meaty paws. Didn't focus on Ghost's satisfied grin. He was doing this to save your life, you'd understand that later. He was doing this to save Simon's career.

Like a good friend.

Next ->

Taglist: @a-sadmilky

Ghost photo credit to @chatskaja

[silassinclair]

Let me Take Care of You

Yandere Boxer x Injured Reader

Summary: It’s always been you taking care of Viktor and the other fighters. After all you’re the gym’s doctor! It’s your job. But what happens when it’s the other way around and you’re the one with the injury this time?

CW// Injuries, Blood, Personal Space Invaded

Masterlist Here!!

The gym was packed with fighters training for the upcoming fight this weekend. This weekend Viktor was going to be fighting a German fighter named Iron Klaus; the famous Iron Claw of Berlin. One punch from him and the opponent will be out like a light. So Viktor has been training especially hard in dodging and weaving for the past month.

While everyone was focused on training you decided to clean up a little bit around the clinic. The last doctor who worked here had no organizational skills whatsoever and it peeved you. So why not use the spare time to tidy up a little?

The top cabinet was pretty dusty. The dust was pretty annoying too because the fighters with a dust allergy would always be sneezing whenever they came in. Wetting one of the paper towels you look for something to stand on so you can reach the cabinet. There’s no stools or four legged chairs, only your swivel chair.

“This idea a terrible idea.” You think to yourself. But you have to get rid of that dust for the sake of your patients. So you wheel the chair over and put a foot on it. The wheels immediately feel like they want to slide out from under you. But you ignore it. You stand to your full height with both feet on the chair and begin dusting off the cabinet top.

But suddenly one of the six plastic wheels burst off the chair, throwing you completely off balance and sending you falling to the hard tile floor.

“AH-!” You scream and hit your head on the counter then fall to the floor with a loud thud. Groaning in pain you massage your tail bone. But then something gets in your eye. Something wet.

Tapping your forehead you flinch with a hiss when you accidentally touch an open wound.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” You mutter repeatedly and rush to grab a mirror. Shuffling through the junk drawer of your desk you find a compact mirror and flip it open. And to your horror you see that the top right of your forehead as a long bleeding cut. Luckily it isn’t too deep but without proper care it could scar.

“Great…”

Getting some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad you spurt some onto the pad. But just as you’re about to dab it onto the cut the door slams open causing you to drop the wet pad.

“Can you knock-?! Viktor?” You calm down when you see it’s just Viktor. If it were Alexi you would have thrown the alcohol bottle at him.

“I need some ice..” His words fall off his tongue and his eyes widen when he finally looks at you. Viktor takes large hurriedly steps towards you immediately.

“What happened kroshechnyy!?” He asks worriedly. “You’re bleeding so much. It may scar your simpatichnyy (pretty) face.”

You roll your eyes. “It looks worse than it feels. It’s alright. I was just about to disinfect before you came barging in. And don’t slam my door open anymore, you’ll break it.”

Viktor just grunts and takes you by the arm and pretty much forces you to sit on the bed. “I will help you.” He says and looks through your cabinets and drawers for supplies. He gets some hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, gauze, and medical tape.

“You really don’t have to do that, go back to training Viktor. Don’t waste your time with me.” You say earnestly. He needs to spend his time training, not taking care of you. It was your own fault for getting into this mess anyways.

With all the supplies in hand Viktor turns to you with a shake of his head. “Any second spent with you is a second well spent, not wasted. So let me take care of you.”

And he wasn’t asking. He goes to work immediately and dabs some of the hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton ball and dabs it onto your forehead. When you wince in pain he shushes you calmly like a baby. Cooing and reassuring you that everything is going to be okay.

“Shh shh kroshechnyy, it will only hurt a bit.” He whispers and cleans the wound. The bleeding has stopped now.

His eyes are calm and focused as all his attention is on you. Helping you, taking care of you, loving you. It feels so domestic cleaning your wound. It makes him feel like the two of you are lovers. He gently lays a square of thin gauze over the cut and tapes it down with some of the medical tape.

“Sorry if the job is… sloppy. I am not used to attending wounds.” He mutters with disappointment in himself.

But you reassure him with a light smile. “Hey it’s a better job than what I would’ve done with just a compact mirror. I appreciate it, thank you.”

Viktor nods softly, he turns away from your gaze as pink blush dusts his pale cheeks.

You sit still for a moment. The sting of the cut is slowly fading away thanks to Viktor’s first aid. But then you remember why Viktor came into the office in the first place; you retrieve a bag of ice from the mini fridge.

“Here. Thank you again for helping me.” You say and hand him the bag.

Viktor nods with a small grunt and accepts the bag.

“So what’s the ice for?” You ask. “Did you get hurt?”

Viktor nods. “Olēg hit me pretty hard in the ribs. Old bald bastard still packs a mean punch.”

You chuckle. “Well it’s good practice for you against your upcoming match with that German guy. Anyway, you can rest here while you use that ice.”

Viktor smiles slightly. “You’ll let me rest here? Usually you always try to shoot me away kroshechnyy.”

Well he had a point. It annoyed you when Viktor would come in here on the daily and just watch you while you worked. But for the past few weeks he hasn’t visited due to his rigorous training regiment. Deep down you missed his calm presence and his awkward attempts at making small talk. So what if you missed him a little bit? He was the only decent company here. All the other fighters have no manners.

“This time is an exception, think of it as a thank you for patching me up this time.” You say whilst organizing some drawers.

You feel warmth press up from behind and turn your head slightly to the side. Viktor’s gotten up from the bed and came up behind you, pinning you to the desk with a hand on the hardwood on either side. His front is right against your back and you can feel his warm breath on the side of your cheek. He leant his face down lower; his lips just barely graze the shell of your ear.

“Viktor what did I say about personal space-”

“Sorry, I can’t help myself. I just really miss you.” He says with a low hum. His voice is rich and deep like honey, but also dark and dangerous like the night.

Shivers shoot up your spine. What was he trying to pull? “Viktor I said I wanted to take it slow with the whole becoming friends again thing…”

His hand slams down on the desk making you jump with a yelp.

“Well I’m getting impatient.” The growl in his voice makes your blood run cold.

“O-Okay okay j-just calm down for a sec.” You say wobbly. The feeling of his nose on the top of your head makes your train of thought stall. He inhales your scent slowly, reminiscing in the nostalgic smell of your lavender shampoo.

“Just let me hold you close… please. Think of it as your gift to me for patching you up.”

You nod your head in understanding. Viktor is a damaged man. He’s touch starved, affection starved, and had a rough up bringing. If he wanted some semblance of comfort from you then you’ll happily give it. Even if it’s awkward and slightly uncomfortable for yourself. But hey, maybe the uncomfortable feeling will go away soon once you two re-bond overtime.

“It’s alright.” You whisper and pat his back. “I’m here now… Just don’t fuck up again okay? Or I really won’t forgive you ever again.”

He hums lowly. “I’ll never. Never again.”

His arms wrap around you into a warm embrace. And you welcome the embrace. His exterior is cold but his arms are warm. You can’t help but put your arms around him in return.

The two of you bask in a couple minutes of calm silence. But shouts from outside the clinic yelling for Viktor can be heard. Said blonde grumbles in annoyance as he lets go of you, much to his distaste.

“Be more careful next time kroshechnyy. And take care of yourself.” He says while petting your hair. You bag his hand off your head with a grunt.

“Okay okay personal space breaking time is over. Now get out there and train.” You say and push him towards the door.

He rolls his eyes and opens the door. But before leaving he turns quickly to kiss your cheek, then shuts the door immediately and runs off.

“Bastard…” You mutter to yourself.

[vixendestroyz]

Do you have any advice for aftercare of beans? I hit my first one yesterday after getting a meal plan for forced ed recovery and I'm superrr scared of infections.

I'm glad you're being cautious and asking questions!

with beans, I would suggest using saline or distilled water to clean the cvt first, and then steri-stripping it closed. you can steri-strip beans up to 48 hours after the cvt happened. then putting antibiotic ointment on the edges of the cvt (not the inside, you don't want that inside ur cvt) also put some on some nonstick gauze and putting that over the cvt. you should change it every 24-48 hours. beans low-key looks nasty asf healing, so just keep in mind the typical signs of infection (cvt is hot to the touch, expanding redness, the cvt is getting more sensitive, swelling around the cvt, yellow/green pus that smells) putting rubbing alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, etc won't do any good to beans, if anything it can just irritate it more and cause you more trouble.

ideally, you would get stitches EVERY time you hit anything deeper than styro. but I understand people don't have the time, money, or opportunity to do that. I hope you stay safe and don't be afraid to ask questions if you have more!

[hauntingkiki]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do venture waking up from having a nightmare about reader dying and readers like lying right next to them and hears venture crying but reader try’s to comfort venture? Just some angst fluff please :c

OMGGG AWWW, IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS!!

Hellish Night

Venture x Reader

Overwatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

venture scrambled into their room, tears poured out of their eyes, rolling down their cheeks and dripping on their clothing, skin and the wooden floor beneath them. “oh my fucking god.” they shakily sobbed, their mind backwards as they immediately forget where everything was located around their room.

their knees gave out from under them, catching themselves on their desk with a sucked in breath. their heart hammered against their chest, the scene from a few hours ago replaying in their mind.

~~

“SLOAN!” you screamed, struggling against the strong hold that was around your waist. you threw your fists into the back of your kidnapper, trying to wiggle out of their hold.

sloan chased after you, stumbling as they tried to keep up with the pace. “Y/N!” they cried, reaching a hand out in your direction.

your kidnapper turned his torso, grabbing his mini gun then firing at sloan, dropping the weapon back to his side as he continued to make his way to the get away helicopter that drowned out the loud mini gun sound with the obnoxious whirling of the propeller.

venture was lucky that all the shots missed, punctuating the ground that was at their feet. venture came to a halt, skidding against the orange dirt as they started at the flying machine in front of them.

your attacker threw you off of his shoulder and onto the metal floor, enemy troops snagging you off the floor, trying to detain you but struggling as you kicked and bit, wiggling around.

venture covered their face with their arm, turning their torso away as the wind around the helicopter pushed them back slightly. when the wind slowly stopped, sloan peeled their arm away and cocked their head up towards the pink and orange sky, wide eyes, horror completely washing over their body as they watched the helicopter zoom off. they faintly noticed you reaching out the open side of the vehicle, getting pulled back by the troops inside.

“SLOAN!”

~~

it kept playing in their mind.

over and over and over again.

a hand shot over their mouth, wide eyes as they gagged, but thankfully swallowed it down. sloan started at the wooden floor beneath them, the wax having a faint reflection of themself.

they felt so stupid.

they could’ve prevented all of this from happening.

sloan should’ve been more cautious about the situation, they could’ve warned winston about their past encounter so he could’ve been kick out of overwatch.

sloan knew what he was capable of. fuck, they’ve seen it first hand! back at illios, talon and some of his troops came into the sight, including mauga.

groaning through gritted teeth, sloan pulled themselves off of the floor, whipping their head around to find the needed supplies they were going to need for this journey.

their eyes landed on their canteen that was hanging on their doorknob. ripping it off of the door, they stormed out of their room and into their kitchen, placing it onto the island before walking off.

they did this for about 15 minutes, going into different rooms and grabbing things that they were going to use.

letting out a breath they didn’t even notice, they stood in front of the island, glancing over all the items that were scattered around the countertop.

a first aid kit; full of gauze, wrapping tape, hydrogen peroxide, alcohol wipes and a lot of other shit sloan didn’t even know were medical stuff.

a canteen with backup water bottles.

a few snacks; crackers, chips, small baggies of fruit and some assorted sweets. anything to give them and you fuel.

a pistol that their grandfather gifted them with boxes of backup ammo.

and their drill.

with backpack in hand, they started to pack, trying to organize everything so it would fit into the pouch the best it could.

just as they finished filling up their canteen, a knock echoed through the room. turning the tap off, they twisted the lid on the metal container, gently placing it on the counter as they walked over to the door.

“angela?” sloan gasped when they opened the door, revealing the medic. their eyes looked around her face, brows knitting together. “what are you doing here?”

angela peeked behind sloan, getting a glimpse of their backpack and their drill. she sighed when they stepped over to the side, blocking her view from inside, even though they were too late. “venture, you can’t go there alone.” she muttered, adjusting her glasses before reaching out and grabbing their calloused hands. “lucio’s getting winston now; we’ll all go with you to save y/n.”

venture turned their head to the side, eyes glued to the ground. “i can’t wait, angela.” they huffed, looking her in the eyes, watching as her face slowly softened at their words. “she needs me. she’s my girlfriend for christ’s sake!” they chuckled faintly at the end, shrugging their shoulders.

the two fell silent, angela letting go of their hands with a nod. “go get her then.” she whispered, nodding in approval. “just…stay safe. and bring her back safely.”

venture started at her with slightly wide eyes, their lips parted at her words. they nodded faintly before nodding eagerly. “i will.” they reassured, running a hand through their chocolate locks. “when winston gets reported of it, you guys can head straight there.”

angela hummed in agreement, giving them a quick hug before running down the hall to alert the others about the situation at hand.

venture quickly put the backpack on, then their canteen around their body. they grabbed the gun and put it in their waist band before dragging their drill and walking out, making sure to grab a pair of keys with them on the way out.

locking their door, they made their way over to all the hero’s vehicles, speed walking over to their motorcycle. they got their drill adjusted onto the back of their bike before they hopped on, putting the keys into the keyhole and started up the bike. revving the engine a few times, they slowly drove out of their parking spot before accelerating and driving off.

•••

coughs and hacks filled the room, the sound of liquid dripping into the floor faintly made it’s presence. shoes clicked around you as one of the soldiers walked around your hunched over body, all of the soldiers who took you hostage watched with chuckles and smirks as blood slowly started to cover the floor from their torture.

tears pooled into your eyes, your attention glued on the blood and spit mixture that dribbled down your chin and into your legs, rolling down your skin and spreading onto the concrete. you slowly turned your gaze over to mauga, your body shaking as you watched one of the soldiers try to coax him into joining the torture, but thankfully for you, he declined, staying in the shadows with his arms crossed.

“i’m going to ask you again!” a male voice spat, baton in his right hand. he got onto one knee, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head up, making eye contact with your wide, tearful eyes. “WHERE is the ffFUCKING ARTIFACT?!”

you shook your head against his hold, blood and spit rolling down your chin. “i don’t FUCKING KNOW.” you spat, blood spattering onto his mask that was covering his identity.

he let go of your hair and spun the baton in his grasp before swinging, landing a clean hit on your jaw.

you cried out, your head snapping to the right. you scoffed faintly, opening and closing your jaw before you spat out some more blood.

the soldier pushed you over with his boot, making you whimper as you landed on your fresh cuts and bruises. you brought your knees up to your chest, hissing as blood gushed out of your abdomen from one of the many stab wounds you’ve received. he raised his arm over his head, getting ready to hit you before pausing.

everyone froze, turning their attention onto the doorway as faint gun shots echoed throughout before a booming drill sound followed.

then silence.

your heart fluttered in your chest, pushing yourself up from your laying down position. you knew that clunky drill sound from anywhere.

venture walked into the room, blood slightly dripping off their drill and off their coat.

your eyes went wide, shuffling forward as tears started to pool into your eyes again. “VENTURE!” you sobbed, your body violently shaking as you wailed.

“GET EM!” a soldier from behind you called out, the rest of the soldiers (besides the one that’s next to you and mauga) started to shoot at the archeologist.

sloan dived behind a pillar, using the pistol to pick off some of the soldiers, groaning when they remembered they left their bag full of ammo back with their bike. tossing the gun to the side, their hands wrapped around the handles of their excavator before they burrowed under the concrete.

you watched your partner with a twinkle in your eyes, your lips parted slightly with a faint smile.

you were going home.

mauga slowly walked over to the soldier who stood a little ways behind you, clearing his throat to gain the man’s attention. once he had his gaze, he jerked a thumb over towards you. “she, uh…she won’t say anything.” mauga admitted, rubbing his neck as he glanced over to you before turning back to the soldier. “we just need to find someone else to tell us.”

the soldier’s eyes landed on a dagger that mauga was holding out to him. he gently took it from the inked up man, caressing the blade between his fingers, being careful to not cut himself with it. he slowly nodded, getting a comfortable grip on the handle. the soldier inched his way over to you, kneeling behind you and-

your eyes shot open, the coldness of the blade entering your skin before it quickly left. you slowly and shakily looked down, blood oozing out of your skin, soaking into your shirt. you felt the liquid trickle from your chest and your back, seeping into your pants.

breathing quickly became hard to do, making you put all of your energy onto a simple task.

the two men behind you quickly left, the dagger staying behind on the floor a few feet away from you.

sloan had their back towards you. their chest fell and rose rapidly, sweat building up and collecting in the blood that spattered onto their skin; they were covered, almost head to toe.

sloan snapped out of their odd state, turning to you with a grin before it quickly slipped of their lips, fear washing over. “y/n!” they gasped, dropping their drill as they ran over to your laying down frame. they slid on their knees when they got to you, rubbing a bloodied hand through their hair. “no…no, nonononono.” tears collected in their caramel eyes, gently lifting you up and holding you in their arms.

you wheezed, coughing as you felt the blood pool into your lungs, time quickly running out for you as you were drowning by your own blood. your own body was killing you.

slowly, you reached a freed hand towards your partner, sloan meeting your hand halfway as they leaned their head down into your touch, placing their bigger, calloused hand over yours.

tears were flowing out of venture’s eyes, dripping onto your face as they slid down. “i love you, cariño.” they whispered, their shoulders shuttering as they sobbed. “don’t leave me…please.”

you smiled meekly, caressing their cheek with your thumb, the blood on their face and on your fingers smudging into their skin. “i love you too, baby.” you muttered, taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling, your eyes closing for a brief moment. “i…” you sighed, before going quiet, falling limp into sloan’s arms.

•••

sloan let out a gasp, clawing at the bedding that was placed over them as they shot up. their hunched over frame stared at the base board at their feet, their chest rising and falling quickly.

sweat rolled down from their temple, their shirt was drenched in the salty liquid, so they quickly tugged the shirt off, some of the left over sweat sticking to their chest from the shirt, but it seemingly disappeared once the ac kicked on.

their vision was a haze, impossible to see in the dark. they blinked a few times and their vision got adjusted to the darkness. they glanced around the room they were in, their eyes stayed glued to the right side of the room first. a bunch of maps, drawings, rocks and gems, history books and other things littered the side of the room; their side of the room.

slowly they turned their head to the left side, their eyes immediately shot down to the bed that they were in.

there you were. sleeping peacefully, your lips slightly parted as you lightly snored, your hands gripping at the sheets and comforter that coated your body.

sloan immediately broke down at the sight of you, relief quickly washing over them when they realized that it was all a dream, a nightmare more than a dream. they threw their face into their hands, their back pressed against their pillows and the head board.

their hics and weeps were quick to wake you up, your hand rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes as you let out a yawn. “babe?” you yawned, fluttering your eyes open once you were done rubbing them with your knuckle. you let out a gasp, pushing yourself up into a seated position as you leaned over to the person sitting next to you. “sloan?! w-what happened? are you okay?” you panicked as you turned on the small lamp on your nightstand, the soft light casting a gentle glow onto the two of you.

your eyes darted around the backs of their hands, scooting your way in between their legs so you were front of them.

sloan peeled their hands away from their tear stained face, choking on their sobs as they struggled to make eye contact. “i…i had a nightmare..” they admitted, almost embarrassed that they were sobbing like this over a nightmare.

you nodded, showing that you understood, sincerity lingering in your eyes. “okay..” you whispered, your hands rubbing gently along their bare, muscular arms. you would be lying if you said you didn’t blush a little at the sight of their bare chest, a small skull with your favorite flowers in your favorite color on their left side immediately catching your eye. you shook your head, scolding yourself at the thought. you can think like that later, you cursed to yourself. “what happened in the nightmare?” your left hand reached out towards their face, gently cupping their cheek as you gently made them look at you, a worried look twisted at your face.

sloan swallowed thickly, their hand atop of yours. they also linked their other hand into your free one, immediately getting a reassuring squeeze from you. “you were taken by talon…” they started, their eyes flickering between your eyes as you watched them. “and you were killed.” they whispered, you almost didn’t catch it.

you let out a huff, a frown tugging on your lips as you brought sloan into a hug. “oh, you poor thing.” you muttered, rubbing a hand in circles along their bare back as your other hand got lost in their thick curls.

sloan dove their face into your chest, gripping at your top as their body shook once again, sobbing into your pajamas.

you shifted around as you comforted your partner, your legs straddled their hips as you gently shushed them, your chin atop of their head as you gently pressed kisses against them every now and then.

“i don’t want to let go.” they muttered against you, loud enough for you to hear it. they pulled away from your body, looking up at you as your hands cupped their cheeks, thumbs grazing under their eyes.

“you don’t have to.” you whispered, kissing their forehead. “i’m not going anywhere.”

sloan sniffled, nodding their head against your hands as they leaned into your right, kissing your palm. “i love you.” they whispered, hands snaking down to your waist as they pulled you closer. “so much.”

smiling, you bright them into a kiss, their lips chapped from the cold air that was being blasted into the apartment. “i love you too.” you muttered against their lips, pulling them into another hug.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

oh…my…god…

that took so long to write holy😭 but totally worth it! (if you couldn’t tell, they’re my favorite character to write) i hope you enjoyed!

[lizzy019]

𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒮𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒲𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝑀𝑒?

Johnny Cade x Fem!Reader [Johnny and Reader are best friends to start]

cw -> loss of v-card, reader is more dominant

Word Count -> 1.5K

Johnny survives here guys!!

After the rumble and under the navy blue skies scattered with stars and clouds, you two walked happily around the neighborhood just to relax.

Johnny had unfortunately received a new cut to his eyebrow, and you’d gently cleaned it with a light amount of hydrogen peroxide and alcohol while keeping it safe from bacteria with a gauze pad before your walk.

You both were lightly chitchatting, smiling and giggling occasionally at any joke or funny thing one of you said to each other.

“I can’t believe it! That rumble was wild, I feel bad for Dally. A chipped tooth? Man, he’s crazy.” You chattered, smiling over at Johnny before you both were walking to your house’s doorstep.

Unlocking it, you teasingly let him in first and act like a gentleman, even if you were a woman.

A small pat to his back was given as a gesture of kindness while you kicked off your shoes and hung up your coat before scurrying off to watch some TV. Unfortunately there was nothing good aside from Looney Tunes, which was tolerable. Better than the news.

Johnny sat down beside you, securing a throw blanket and covering you both under its warmth. While he was tired and obviously not in the mood for anything crazy, he kept stealing glances at your chest, practically drooling.

You were oblivious to it, watching your show and snickering every time Bugs Bunny insulted another character. But of course, the show cut to commercials and you sighed heavily in protest.

You shut off the TV and smiled over at Johnny, unaware of whatever he was doing. But little did you know that he had the biggest thing to tell you, and he had it all planned out.

When you stood, he followed shortly behind. Walking around the halls to find yourself situated in your chambers, you swiftly hopped onto your bed and Johnny followed suit.

This had you giggling, and you relaxed instantly.

“Hey.. I have somethin’ to tell ya. But you gotta promise you won’t be mad at me, yeah?” He asked so softly, so reticently and worriedly that you were sure he was as close to a little puppy as possible.

At his question however, you nodded and smiled, responding with, “You can tell me anything, Johnnycake! I’m not here to judge you.”

This soothed him a bit, but he gently found your hand and took it in his before squeezing it and sighing shakily.

“I dunno how to properly voice this but.. God, I love you, I love you so much. From your smile to your laugh, how kind you are and how beautiful you look, you’re like an angel walkin’ on the face of the Earth. Your eyes are so pretty, I swear, they’re like pools I could drown in. Your hair, so effortlessly gorgeous even when messy or wet. Your body, glorious in every possible way. Baby, I dunno how to say this lightly but.. I want you. I need, no, I crave you. I wanna-” You pressed a finger to his lip to silence his ranting. While it was excessive, it was sweet and he made his feelings known.

“Johnnycake..” You start, stopping only out of nervousness and giving a light giggle to soothe the tension.

“I think I feel the same. Everything about you is amazing, and I love being around you. You’re a wonderful person, and I’d love to spend more time with you other than simple friends.” You responded with a big smile.

This had Johnny stunned, a girl really liked him in that sort of manner?

Without hesitation, he smashed his mouth against your and whimpered into the engendered kiss. It was lovely to finally have your soft and perfect lips against his. Johnny’s mouth tasted faintly of weed and vanilla, a bit minty probably from toothpaste, but you let yourself indulge in his graceful expression of his affections.

His hands were touching everywhere, specifically in the order of; hair, neck, shoulders, breasts, arms, stomach, and your pussy.

A surprised whimper escapes him when you move your own hand to his semi erection in his jeans, rubbing it meticulously as his own hand rubbed your pussy through your pants.

You slowly began to move your body over him, trapping him underneath yourself and continuing kissing and shared masturbation.

“Oh baby.. baby, wanna have you. Want you to be mine.” He whimpered out, pushing you away from him to pull his shirt off.

You followed shortly after, you both exposing yourselves to the nude. Johnny was so handsome, even with his ribcage poking through. Your hands lovingly caressed his torso, smiling.

“Baby, I’m a virgin, I ain’t ever done this before. What do I do? I wanna make us both feel good, but I dunno how.” He whined out in complaint, watching your lovely figure straddle his lap.

You simply smiled at his worry, giving his stomach a light pat as you gently took his erection in your hand. While he wasn’t necessarily the most monstrous size, it was a decent length with a cute uncut tip.

“You should be walkin’ like you own these streets if you have this lovely thing hiding away.” You teased lightly, gently rolling the foreskin down to expose his lovely brownish pink tip.

“We’ll start slow, okay? We’ll take it nice and easy. Here, sit up actually. We’ll do it in a little lotus position.”

Johnny complied instantly, face red and hot as he got into the position you wanted. You hesitated for him however, looking at him with full reluctance before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me to do this? You can’t really take this back, y’know.” You sighed, running a gentle hand through his precious little wavy tufts of hair.

He nodded so vigorously, so eagerly with no sign of reticence or fear. He so obviously wanted you to take his v-card and tear it in his face, he wanted you to be his first. If you couldn’t tell by the pleading in his eyes, you’d be damn blind.

“Okay, okay, fine. Go ahead, take the lead and take your time.” You surrendered, giggling and pressing a soft kiss to his nose before gesturing for him to put it in.

Once all arguments were settled, Johnny grabbed the shaft of his cock and slowly maneuvered it to press against your folds before inevitably getting shoved in. This had him cry out in ecstasy, it was so much better than his hand could ever be.

His little whines and moans had you smiling so bright, letting out small sounds as well as you both moved in synchronized motion to reach cloud nine.

“Does it feel good for you, baby? You’re making me feel so good..” You praised lovingly, humping your hips against his to gain friction and make everything feel better.

The praise you gave Johnny had sent his whole body reeling in glee. You were enjoying yourself! He was so proud of himself.

“Yeah, it feels good, sugar. Please, keep squeezin’ me, milk me like you need it, please.” He whimpered, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your neck and collarbone to silence his amplifying moans.

His dirty talk had your heart bubbling, he sounded so filthy and naughty. You honestly weren’t used to it.

You felt yourself nearing an orgasm when his hand came to rub your clit again, and this is what had your legs shivering and tensing in congenial pain. You were so close, but you were holding on for Johnny.

Surely enough, Johnny had bit into your shoulder quite harshly when he hit his own climax, body seizing up as his pleasure burned every nerve in his body. And shortly after, you came undone on him as well. The next few moments were spent in a simple hug, clinging to each other before you finally suggested to share a shower.

Once after your shared shower, you two had gotten back under your blanket’s covers and cuddled up close. Johnny was the cutest little spoon to exist, face happily pressed into your chest and hand rubbing your lower back in a small pattern.

“Baby, that was amazing.. I’m so happy I got all that off my chest. I didn’t know how to tell ya, I was scared you’d reject me like everyone else.” He murmured, gently kissing your cleavage.

You were lightly rubbing and scratching his scalp, smiling down at him and giggling.

“Really? You know I wouldn’t be harsh on you even if I didn’t like you. You’re a sweetie, no one should ever get mad at you for having normal feelings. I’m just glad your feelings are directed towards me.” You smiled happily, kissing the crown of his head before sighing and covering his shoulders more with the blanket.

“Sleep, Johnny. I’ll be here all through the night, okay?” You smiled.

“Good night.”

Johnny merely huddled closer to you and sighed happily, finding comfort in the warmth of your body and the warmth of the fabrics securing his body into its embrace.

“Good night baby..” He muttered before closing his eyes and letting everything fizz away.

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

HOROR ARE YOU OKAY??? Please take these bandages, gauzes, cotton balls, antiseptics, rubbing alcohol, disinfectants, pain killers, icepacks, medical tape, sanitizer, hydrocortisone cream, hydrogen peroxide, antibiotics, cough and cold medicine, Tylenol, Ibuprofen and- *Dumps entire medical supplies in hands.* Please be okay, we're worried for you...

[nitazenes]

The 911 Box

we always talk about sh prevention strategies right? what i think is lacking in this discussion is a few things, and one of those things is Self-Harm Care. -- Care in the event you DO SH.

I think everyone who SH's in anyway that damages the skin, picking, burning, cutting, etc. hear me out

this idea comes from my therapist who introduced me to the concept of a 911 box. The 911 box is actually supposed to be a box that contains items for grounding. this is done via the 5 senses, so you put something tactile inside for touch, a candy or something for taste, essential oils or nice smelling things like perfume for scent, a coloring book for sight (and touch) or photos of loved ones, and something to listen to. i have my old ipod classic and a radio walkman in mine.

but another type of 911 box i think people should have is a SH self care box. Inside should contain:

Gauze to stop bleeding/Gauze or bandages for later

a little bit of hydrogen peroxide, i dont think youre supposed to use it on burns, but this will significantly reduce infection risk.

maybe a mini bottle of water and something sugary to help recover

triple antibiotic ointment (neosporin, bacitracin, aquaphor, generics all work) this will also prevent your wounds from being infected, this can go on burns.

Burn cream, it wont take the pain away but it will help it heal and take some of the heat out, prevents blistering and such

a sharps disposal thing of a sort, could be a water bottle or w/e

your go to SH items can go in the box for safe keeping

rubbing alcohol to clean any blades before use.

If you want to go the extra mile, wipe down the area you intend to yknow, and wipe it with rubbing alcohol. If the alcohol is still wet, it stings quite a bit to get it into a cut. so you get the endorphins easier, and the area is clean and less likely to get infected.

if you dont intend to dispose of your object, wipe it down with rubbing alcohol and wrap it in some gauze to keep it clean for next time.

i think this conversation is avoided because naturally we want to avoid getting to the point of sh entirely. but in the event of a relapse, its safer to be prepared with the right materials to clean yourself up and prevent infection. please never use anything rusty, if your blades are rusty, throw them away. i have had lock jaw from stepping on a rusty nail, youll give yourself tetanus

if your wounds are infected (they will be red, warm to the touch, swollen, then if it gets worse, pus and drainage may occur,) if you allow this to fester, you may have yourself go into septic shock, the thing you want to look out for is traveling red streaks from the wound. theyd be able to be seen from the skin but will be under the skin. you would be very sick before this point (feverish and flu-like even) but it has snuck up on people before, keep an eye on an infection if it begins to smell badly, have excess drainage, or is persistent and wont go away.

if youre afraid of being in trouble with parents, infection treatment is important to reduce the risk of a 5150 (5575 for minors) or having to go to the ER for a bad infection-- and then end up 5150'd.

and hey maybe buy yourself some hello kitty bandaids to make yourself feel better

i feel like people may think this is more like, romanticizing SH, but its not, it's safety in the event that prevention methods fail.

love yall consider making yourself a 911 box : )

[gracien-system]

How to be safer when doing self harm.

We've seen a lot of posts talking about how there needs to be more resources for folks who self harm on how to do it safely, and how resources are overly focused on prevention rather than harm reduction. We realized that we have the knowledge to at least contribute to the "how to do this safer" side, and... well, this post is our attempt at that.

I will note that we are not medical professionals -- our mother was, for about 5 years, though, and so was our great grandmother. We've also done enough research to feel confident that we can give at least a general guide and pointers on how to reduce the risk of long term damage from self harm, but we're human -- if we make a mistake, and you happen to know that it's wrong, point it out in the notes. We'll reblog your version.

With all that being said, the info's under the readmore.

When it comes to self harm, there are a lot of methods that people use -- however, physical self harm generally has a few common presentations.

Cutting, scratching, and burning, are the 3 we're going to cover here. We'll go in order, top to bottom.

1: how to be safer when cutting

The first thing you want to do is pick your blade. A razor blade is much different to a knife, and both are different to a shard of glass, even though the aftercare remains similar.

The general guidance we can give is this: make sure whatever implement you use is as sharp as possible, and avoid serrated blades as much as you can. A simple kitchen or pocket knife is probably the safest option you have.

Whatever you use, make sure you sterilize it to the best of your ability beforehand. Dunk it in hydrogen peroxide or alcohol (pouring either over the entire length of the blade works, too.), or take a lighter and run it down the entire length of the cutting edge (this will fuck up the heat treat of the blade, and make it much harder to keep it sharp in the future, so I wouldn't recommend it for anything you'd like to reuse, but it is and option if necessary).

When you cut, pick your location carefully. Avoid the wrists and lower arm (there are a lot of veins and nerves you could accidentally damage or sever, which is a bad time.) a nice rule of thumb (though it may not work for everyone) is "if you can take your other hand and feel bone on both sides of the arm, it's probably too low". Make sure you don't cut lengthwise -- if you accidentally catch a vein going lengthwise, you'll almost certainly end up in the ER or worse, whereas going horizontally has a much lower chance of something catastrophic happening.

Other places to avoid cutting are: inner thigh (nearby artery), and the groin (extremely high bloodflow region).

While cutting, to avoid infection, it's important that if you set your blade on a hard and non-sterile surface, you wash it with alcohol or peroxide before using it again.

Try to avoid cutting deep -- muscle damage is hard to heal from, and nerve damage is harder still. Skin deep wounds will scar, but muscle deep ones usually require stitches.

Once you're done, wash the wounds and your hands with soap and hot water, then a disinfectant. Dry them with a towel or paper towel, then put bandages over them (or bandaids, if they're small enough.)

How to apply a bandage: get cotton pads, gauze, or something similar, as well as tape. Press the gauze against the wound, then tape it to the surrounding skin. Change once every 4-6 hours (or until you can see blood on the exposed side, whichever is sooner.) until the bleeding has stopped, then once every 6-8 hours until it has healed.

You've minimized your chance of infection, scarring, and permanent damage. Good job. We're proud of you. /gen

2: how to be safer scratching.

With scratching, you want to make sure that you wash your hands thoroughly before and after, especially under your fingernails. A good way to make sure that your fingernails are clean is to take some soap, put it in the palm of your hand, then scratch the palm for a few seconds under running water. Do this with both hands.

If you draw blood, make sure to disinfect and bandage the wound. If you don't, make sure to wash it afterwards.

Scratching carries of a lot less risk of permanent damage as opposed to a lot of other methods, but has a much higher chance of infection if you draw blood and didn't disinfect your hands. Just be careful, and you should be fine. We're proud of you. /gen

3: how to be safer burning.

We can't advise on the method as much as we would like to, here, because there are a lot of ways to burn yourself. We're going to assume lighter, but the advice we give should be applicable to most localized 1st and 2nd degree burns. If you give yourself a 3rd degree burn of any sort, no matter how localized, you need to see a doctor as fast as possible.

1st degree burns are comparable to a (mild to moderate) sunburn -- uncomfortable, potentially risks infection if not cared for properly, painful, and just generally not a great time, but not very dangerous if treated properly. Standard protocol with all burns is to wash the affected area(s) in cool water for 30 seconds to a minute immediately after the burn. With 1st degree, it's your choice whether you want to apply something like allo or lotion to it, afterwards. It might help reduce pain and/or help it heal faster, but it's your call. Just make sure to keep the area clean and cool.

2nd degree burns are more serious. Depending on how big the area burned is, you might want to see a doctor, but that's up to the individual. If you want to treat it yourself, wash for 30 seconds to a minute in cool water, then apply a lotion or allo to it. Once you've done that, apply a bandage over the area, and let it heal.

We aren't an expert in identifying what is first, second, and third degree, in terms of burns -- but there are plenty of resources our there to help you with that. If someone adds one to this post, we'll edit this to include it.

Congrats, you've minimized the risk of long term damage. We're proud. /gen

Closing notes

We know there's a lot out there that would like to say that recovery is an on/off switch. It isn't. The best way to recover is to minimize the harm as much as you can today, and and work towards other coping mechanisms as you can. Don't believe that you're lesser, somehow, for needing an intermediate step, or intermediate steps.

We hope you have a wonderful rest of your day/night, and we wish you good luck -- both in your recovery, and in your life.

[askthesawyers]

"...boy you better go brush your teeth while I clean this out."

*I huffed as I got up in search of something to clean this out. Do these guys even keep a first aid kit around here?? Maybe a thing of vodka? That works doesn't it? It IS pure alcohol after all...and I could always use a part of my shirt to act as a bandaid if it gets dire*

"say, you got any medical things? Hydrogen peroxide? It comes in a brown, squarish bottle? Anything anti septic related? Gauze???"

-🐇

"uuuhh.. ask Drayton! i ain't know what yer talkin' bout" *Nubbins had run off- not to brush his teeth cuz he could care less for that- just decided to bother Bubba for a while.* *Drayton was lazing about on the couch my his lonesome. tsktsk.. better be careful with this one*

[agwitow]

Okay, the first aid thing has been bothering me...

Some terms/definitions after the poll options

Basic Supplies: adhesive bandages, basic medicine (advil/tylenol, antibiotic ointment), basic disinfectant (rubbing alcohol and/or hydrogen peroxide), and one or two extras

Moderately Stocked: as basic supplies plus, adhesive bandages in more than 2 sizes and/or shapes, gauze (pads or rolls), assorted topical ointments (2 or more of: after-bite, anti-itch, anti-inflammatory, liniment/pain rub, burn cream, specialized antibiotic ointment, aloe vera, vaseline), simple tools (tweezers, scissors), disposable gloves, and a handful of other things

Fully Stocked: as moderately stocked plus, more than 4 sizes and shapes of adhesive bandages, gauze pads and roll, medical tape, compression/tensor bandages, finger cots, assorted OTC medicines (cough syrup, muscle relaxants, pain relievers, anti-inflammatory), saline solution, assorted disinfectants (disposable wipes, rubbing alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, witch hazel, iodine), instant ice packs, and several other things

Some possible extras/other things: triangular bandages, splints, braces, sugar pills, ginger pills/candies, cough drops, cpr face shields, moleskin, safety pins, etc.

If you have a car/purse kit but less than a basic one at home, then please select the "Not a home kit" option. The last option is for those who have at least a basic kit in multiple places.

Okay, Tumblr, let's see how first aid ready we are...

[macgyvermedical]

Home Nursing Advice Column #3: Treating Cuts

Cuts are common injuries that range from extremely minor to extremely severe. Being able to determine whether or not you can take care of a cut yourself- or whether you need to seek professional help- is a good skill to have.

Note that if you are uncomfortable at any time taking care of a cut in yourself or someone else, stop and get help. This is for educational purposes only and should not be your only source.

First, make sure you are safe, and secure whatever it was that caused the injury.

Second, stop bleeding. Most bleeding can be stopped by applying firm, direct pressure over the top of the wound. If the wound is spurting blood, or you cannot stop the bleeding by applying pressure, you need to call local emergency services or go to an emergency department. This type of wound is likely to require surgery to fix.

If you were able to stop the bleeding, the next goal is to clean the wound. The only thing you need to clean a wound is water. Using alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, or iodine damages the tissue in the wound and delays healing. The water used needs to be clean enough to drink, but does not need to be sterile.

Run water through the wound to remove any visible debris. If (non-spurting) bleeding starts again, keep cleaning- once you are finished cleaning, put pressure on the wound again to stop the bleeding.

If the cut is small (about an inch or smaller in length, gaping no more than a 1/4 inch and no deeper than 1/4 inch), you can close it yourself. To close a cut, dry the edges of the cut well and take some cloth medical tape (or duct tape or band-aids), and cut it into thin (1/4 inch) strips. Hold the edges of the wound together and lay strips of the tape perpendicular to the cut, leaving about a 1/8 inch between each strip and pressing them down on one side. Then, stretch the tape strips taut across the wound and stick them down on the opposite side.

Cover the wound with a bandage and check daily for signs of infection.

If the cut is larger, you're going to want to pack it. If you aren't comfortable doing this, you also may want to seek professional care.

To pack a wound, you'll need some gauze sponges, which you can get at a pharmacy. Moisten these with water clean enough to drink, and insert into the wound. It shouldn't be so tight it is painful, but all parts inside the wound should be touching gauze.

What you are trying to do here is keep the wound open and clean so that it can heal from the bottom up.

Every day, remove the gauze and replace it with new moistened gauze. You should also be looking for signs of infection, including increased pain, swelling, heat, redness, or foul smelling drainage. If you notice any of these, see a professional.

[michael-runs-hot-guerin]

"Jesus Christ, kid, what're you doing here in the middle of the night?"

Fuck, this is what he was trying to avoid. Michael had to piss him off so he wouldn't freak out that he was in his medicine cabinet. Sanders wasn't the freak out type but he was dead serious about safety. And Michael could not go to the hospital. "I'm-- I'm stealing your bourbon, I'm thirsty." And his voice cracked. Awesome.

"Wrong cabinet, first of all." Sanders eyed him, immediately caught on his hand in a greasy rag. He was running out of them. It was too much blood. "What did you do?"

So that didn't work. "I didn't do shit. I need a drink." He needed acetone. He needed acetone so badly.

"Alcohol will not help unless you're disinfecting whatever the hell that is, and we've got hydrogen peroxide for that."

His blood reacted like a human's to hydrogen peroxide; he'd unfortunately had occasion to test that. He didn't know if his wounds could get infected like humans', and he wasn't actually willing to find out. "Okay," he said, nodding.

"Come on," Sanders said, grabbing a bottle from the cabinet and heading for the bathroom. He switched the light on, and Michael froze.

"I can't--" He hadn't seen it in the light yet. If he never saw it, maybe it wasn't actually as bad as it felt.

Sanders frowned. He flipped the switch back off. There was a nightlight. "Kid, you gotta clean it. I've got gauze and shit in here. Infections ain't fun."

Michael swallowed and shuffled over. "It really hurts but I'll try not to throw up."

"Great. Thanks."

He unwrapped the rag with shaking fingers, and even in the dim light, he knew it was bad. And he knew Sanders could tell, too.

"Gonna hold your wrist, kid," he said gruffly. "The peroxide is gonna burn a little."

Michael doubted he'd be able to feel it. His brain was practically numb from the pain and from everything else.

Alex. Alex was so amazing, to kiss and to touch.

His dad was such a piece of shit, though. How could he want to hurt Alex? Alex was so brilliant. He understood people wanting to hurt him, but Alex? It didn't compute.

But Michael kept his cool. (Actually, the peroxide making his blood bubble was kind of pleasant.) He didn't explode Alex's dad's brain, so he was cool.

He was thrown out, and Alex's dad had locked Alex in there and went in his house, which in his mind meant Alex wasn't going to endure anymore torture tonight.

He could hear him crying. He probably didn't hear Michael pick the lock, but he heard him come in, immediately on the defensive until he saw him.

Alex had told him to go to the hospital, in between a million apologies, and a request not to use the shed anymore because he thought next time his dad would probably kill them, and Michael just had to hug him, too in shock to register most of that.

Alex asked him to go to the hospital. Please, he'd said. He had to go before his dad came back and he should go to the hospital.

Michael couldn't afford that in any capacity, so he lied and said he would, because Alex needed that.

Then he somehow walked to his truck, wrapped the first of many rags around his hand, and drank... all of his acetone. He was out. God damn it.

"Kid," Sanders said, snapping him back to the present. "I've got some cotton balls, I'm gonna try to clean this as gentle as I can but I don't think you're gonna have a good time no matter what."

Michael jerked his head, which Sanders took as assent. The first swipe took him right back to that vision.

Isobel was in trouble.

She was in trouble because someone had used her to kill three people.

Fuck. He couldn't explain it. He had no way to explain it. But it wasn't her. And he couldn't let her think it was.

And Max didn't believe him.

And they set her car on fire. They set all three girls on fire. Was that enough? How could it be enough?

Michael squeezed his eyes shut and covered his mouth. It was so fucked up. They shouldn't have done that. What else could they do? They shouldn't have--

"Hold still, kid, I'm almost done with the cotton. Ten more minutes at the most."

He deserved this pain, really. For his part in what happened. For not keeping a closer eye on Isobel. For everything he'd ever done. Actions had consequences.

"Hey. This part is gonna hurt like hell. I ain't a real comforting type. Hey, kid. Look." Sanders pointed at his eyepatch and the scar beneath it, and Michael focused on the distraction. "Wanna know how this happened?"

"Chupracabra," Michael said. "That's what you said when I was a brat."

Sanders huffed a laugh. "And if I ask you about your hand, you'll tell me the same, won't ya?"

Michael shrugged, then winced as Sanders began to wrap his hand in gauze strips.

"You don't gotta tell me shit. None of my business. But I ain't a doctor. And you obviously didn't drive your ass to a hospital so there's a reason you don't wanna go. But you know Jen Parsons?"

The name sounded familiar. He'd heard it around the ranch. "Who's that?"

"The big animal vet," Sanders said. Ah, her. "Ain't a human doctor but probably do a lot damn better than me at this."

She was a very nice lady. Always listened to him when he had a concern about a creature. Even taught him some stuff.

She was still a doctor.

"She owes me. She'd check it out for you for nothin'."

Michael shook his head. He couldn't go to a doctor.

"Can't force you, I guess. You gotta keep this clean and change it at least once a day, alright? And if you come help me out with some stuff before you graduate, I'll help you out with the bandages. Deal?"

"Alcohol," Michael requested.

Sanders rolled his eye. "You're too young to be binge drinking."

"You said you started when you were twelve."

"And look how I turned out. You got your devil's lettuce?"

Michael blinked at him.

"I know what marijuana smells like. I'm blind. My nose works great."

"I have...a small stash," Michael said.

"Get more. It'll work better than alcohol."

He rubbed his forehead. "You speaking from experience?"

"Yup," he said, indicating his eyepatch again. "Know what I'm talking about with infections, too."

Michael nodded. "I'll see what I can do." But what he really needed was so much acetone, so he probably wouldn't spend too much on weed.

"You wanna crash on the couch, kid?"

"Can I smoke in here?"

"No, go hotbox your truck," Sanders said. He spat into the sink. "I'm goin' back to sleep. Put that away and lock up behind ya. Gargle some mouthwash."

Michael stuck his tongue out at his back as he walked away and shortly realized his mouth felt disgusting. But he didn't gargle mouthwash because Sanders told him to, it was because he wanted to steal something.

Okay. And if he held his hand juuust so, it hardly hurt at all, except when he moved, or thought about moving.

--

Michael wanted to complain about the easy, extremely dull errands Sanders gave him, but he was paying him as soon as he completed each one.

The best was when Sanders accidentally ordered way too much acetone. Michael happily "disposed" of the extra gallon bottle.

--

[syngrafaes09]

Strange Nights | Vampire! Dr Strange x Y/n

Logline: After Y/N gets imprinted by a vampire Dr Strange, living under a fictive identity, they must unravel the cause behind her constant misadventures before their hopes are crushed forever.

Masterlist

Chapter 7 : Stay

Naturally, she shuddered when Stephen's cold fingertips touched her warm skin, lifting her chin. His eyes were fixated on the scrape on her forehead.

"Are you feeling alright?" Well, what a stupid way to begin. Of course, she wasn't, he scoffed at himself. "We should visit the hos-"

"No. I'm fine," she flinched. And staggered into the house.

That's when he noticed the abrasions on her palms and knees. A wave of guilt crashed upon him. Had I hunted that creature down, it wouldn't have hurt her.

"The blood on your dress tells me otherwise." There were a few tired stains of blood on the hem of her white dress that ended just below her knee.

"It's mild. Didn't bleed enough to visit the hospital." She said with a sigh. Even if it had she wouldn't. She never had to visit the hospital even when she had wounded herself badly- they always healed quickly.

"Fine but let's get them treated," he said, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

Without any further resistance, she nodded and walked towards the table near the kitchen, and slumped down into one of the uncovered chairs. The house could be deemed a Halloween mess. White sheets and curly willow branches covered almost every piece of furniture. Stephen glanced at the medical supplies scattered across the table and was satisfied that everything needed was there.

"Have you rinsed them?" he asked while washing his hands.

"Yes." She was twirling the tweezers in between her fingers, a scowl on her face.

"Boiled?" he asked, taking it from her. She nodded in response.

Wiping them off with an alcohol-dabbed cotton pad, he kneeled in front of her. Washing with an iodine or hydrogen peroxide solution would be faster and easier but it would be painful and irritating. And those were the last things he ever wanted to cause her.

Immediately as the tweezers touched her wound, she jerked her leg back.

"Be still, dear," he requested, wrapping his free hand around her left lower leg, holding it still as he began cleaning the dirt from the wound. Her heart had decided to pump faster and her breathing turned uneven too – the same physical responses just like the others. Stephen tried to strife a chuckle, wondering what might be going on in that pretty little head of hers. He wished to intrude into her mind but waited with forced patience for her to say something first.

She seemed to remain strategically silent, driving him mad.

"Is it too difficult for you to... painful -" She trailed off, making him abruptly stop bandaging the gauze. Did she actually know who I was? Had Rachael told her about us? He jerked his gaze up, staring into her (e/c) eyes. If she knew, she would have never dared to neither invite me in nor sit in here with me cleaning her wounds.

"Was she close to you?"

Wait, what? 'She'? He was left with no option but to intrude into her mind to understand what she was asking about. Her memories were of that fateful evening. Vis had come up with a neat explanation that she looked like a dead old friend after my sloppy escape. He had returned home late after checking on Y/N, and none of them talked about it.

"Umm... no. A friend from work." What a lie. The only friend from work besides Wong was Christine and she couldn't resemble Y/N in any way. His heart swelled at the thought of Christine. But he had to let go, he reminded himself, everything now had to be Y/N. She was the one he had imprinted.

The scrapes on her palms and forehead were mild, superficial damage to the epidermis, unlike the knee where the dermis had torn too. They hadn't bled, so he left them uncovered.

"That thing gave you quite a fall," he commented while washing his hands.

"No. Just the forehead scratch." She chuckled as she removed the sheets and twigs. "I tripped while running back home." Jade and Rachael joined them as they laughed.

"Oh, Y/N you should rest. I'll do them." Rachael said, taking the sheets from her hand.

"Yeah, you had quite shock." Jade chimed in.

"Don't talk to me about shocks. I have a master's degree in misfortune."

"Let's hope you don't run for a PhD. May this be the last adversity." As she spoke, she flashed another glare at Stephen.

"Maybe," Y/N giggled.

"Off to bed."

"Yes ma'am." She groaned, heading upstairs.

"You won't be joining the rest of them?" Jade asked, slumping on the far end of the couch.

Rachael hadn't stayed much longer after Y/N went. As for what they were hunting down, it had been nearly caught and escaped. That meant all of them needed to coordinate – something that was very difficult for Tony and Steve. They already had their long list of differences and the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires wasn't making things easy. But the ordeal was a little downplayed with the fact that Steve had to be on the roads with the men while the Supernaturals – except Thor and Scott, who happened to suffer a similar fate to Thor - would cover the forest.

"No, they'll be tracking it down with the scent, I won't be much of a help. Besides, if my suspicions turn out to be true, Y/N might be in danger."

"You can trust me with her safety, I'll be staying up all night and putting up a fight if necessary." Stephen raised an eyebrow at him. "You can... are free to leave, you know."

"Could be the other way round. I will stay, you leave. Can you do that?"

He shook his head and Stephen laughed. "No matter what we say or do, we can't trust the other." Jade nodded in agreement.

"Who do you think it might be? Dad says must be a Sigbin."

"I doubt it will be pure blood. A hybrid between Chupacabra and Skinwalker most probably."

"Aren't inter-species supernatural hybrids forbidden by The Order?"

"Yes, and this is the very reason why. One never knows what the outcome will be and can cause a blood hunt like this."

Jade wrenched in his position, drumming his fingers on his lap. Seemed like he was considering whether to ask or not. But Stephen's patience was giving away. He didn't know for how long they could put up the outward patience.

"You can go to Rachael, you know? I don't mind being alone. Let's not make it very difficult for either of us."

He blurted out a yes, heading upstairs. In a beat, he paused on the third step, "How do you handle this?" gesturing his hand around.

"Do what? Be precise."

"This imprinting or the-mate-at-first-sight? The effects on..." Jade trailed off.

Stephen was tongue-tied. He had no idea why it was easy around Y/N. It wasn't like the hot, ravaging fire other alphas had described. Instead, I had felt alternate waves of being washed up with ice-cold and steaming water. The apathy of desires was unexplainable. "Maybe you are too young for this" he fluttered out. This should be it. Jade was in his early years like Thor once had been. He on the other hand had far more experience than others at the time of imprinting.

After he was done with his self-interpretation, he realized that he was too deep in thought to notice Jade leave. Slumping down, he closed his eyes, trying to listen to various sounds. The wind in the trees, crunching of leaves under wolf paws, the humming of tyres of the patrolling cars, chattering among those who are in them, whisper-quiet movements of the vampires, and much more which could never be heard if he were human. He had been listening so intently that a sudden grasp made me jump out of my seat. It was from upstairs. Y/N.

"Y/N?" He whispered, opening the door slightly.

"C-come in." Her voice was cracking.

He peeked inside and saw her looking outside the window, panting and shaking. Her hair was tousled, her eyes weary, forehead beaded with sweat made it look like she had escaped a nightmare.

"Want me to get Rachael?" He asked, standing next to the bed. She shook her head. He turned back, about to leave when he felt delicate, burning flames restraining him. She shuddered, harder now, as his ice-cold skin further ignited the fire under her skin.

"Stay... please." She pleaded, in a tiny voice, her trembling fingers finally letting go of his hand. A part of her wasn't sure who visited every night for the last three nights. It hadn't breached the forest boundary whenever she peeped through her window, but after today's evening, she wasn't sure it would stay in the forest.

Stephen struggled to find words to name the feelings that flooded him. His body, govern-less by his mind, obeyed her words like a command, sitting on the edge of the bed. He could finally feel the fire that was missing, not a single hot, ravaging flame but a forest wildfire, set out by a cluster of bombs that had been ticking ever since he met her but were detonated now. The time spent without pain and temptation made it all the more forceful now.

"Wanna talk about it?" He didn't know how to do this. He had never tried to comfort anyone. She gazed back. The expression on her face was ambiguous. He listened to the rise in her heartbeat and turned restless to read her mind.

"If not, lie down, try to sleep. I will stay as long as you want me."

Her mouth curved into a smile. His mere presence had irrationally calmed her fears. "Then stay till I wake up in the morning," she teased, lying down and pulling the duvet over. "Sleep next to me." He felt happy that she no longer felt restless because of the nightmare, but was shocked at her playful demands. Would she ask me to be next to her let alone to sleep, if she knew the truth about me?

"Matt won't be very happy to find the two men who were supposed to keep an eye out for any danger, curled up next to his daughters."

Her eyes widened. "Does – is Jade with Rachael?" He nodded. "Then stay at least until Matt comes." Following his strange, new instincts, he reclined beside her, on his side with his head resting on the propped-up elbow.

"Sleep," Stephen whispered near her ear, making her shiver and flustered at the same time. She obeyed immediately, bolting her eyelids shut. A chuckle escaped his lips, spiking up her already elevated pulse.

In her silence, he found the fire returning to him. The more he inhaled her scent further the desires were unveiled. He took another breath and let the venom burn his throat. The thirst wasn't as painful as Thor had warned it would be.

"Doctor Rochester," Y/N mumbled softly. He wondered if she was awake or sleep-talking. Nevertheless, he hummed in response. "Are you awake?" she asked, her eyes still unopened.

"Very much."

"Three nights ago I guess I saw a silhouette of a man in the backyard." So this was what her nightmare was about. Shit. I needed to be more careful when I came over to check on her. He thought her human eyes couldn't spot him but he was wrong and careless. "That pretty much scared me." Her confession brought over me a wave of guilt. "Sorry," he whispered.

"What for?"

"Everything. Nothing will harm you. Now, sleep."

[rain-candles-jazz]

whumpcember day 24: anticipation tw: vomit, fresh wounds

Faleece knew enough about first aid to know what to grab.  A mostly intact house made for an alright place to drop her charge and the meager supplies she had managed to pick up from a fallen out grocery store on n the way.

Unceremoniously, she dropped the sheet, the boy held within still curled up.  Faleece noticed a large stain of blood on the sheet just before realizing that the one who caused it wasn't moving.  He looked a bit green, and Faleece realized that the gag hadn't been removed from his mouth.  "Oops."

Faleece held onto the first aid kit she's grabbed and nudged the body with her foot.  The boy started to stir, moaning behind the gauze in his mouth into consciousness.

"Oh good, you're alive!" Faleece bent down and opened the kit, surveying its contents with a bit of disappointment.  Band-aids, peroxide, alcohol wipes, a tube of antibiotic gel, some thin gauze pads, and some medical tape.  Not much to work with.  "Don't know why I care so much," she mumbled to herself.

The boy had managed to claw the gag out of his mouth and had taken to cradling his stomach and trying to sit up. "Hm..." Faleece pulled out a pair of gloves and unwrapped them.  She cringed at the thought of touching another human's skin again, especially after braving it once already today.

Instinctively looking for a garbage can to put the plastic from the gloves in, Faleece pulled a bin from a nearby wall.  Next, she decided to use the peroxide: a spray tip for easy administration.  "Alright, this won't hurt a-"

Suddenly, the trash bin was yanked from beside her, and the boy vomited into it.

Faleece opened her mouth and pushed herself as far backward on the floor as she could.  Perhaps she could have stood to have carried him a little smoother... He coughed and huffed, holding his head in the trash can for a few more seconds before falling back to the ground.

Faleece waited for her own heart to settle before letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.  She then scooted forward a little bit at a time before she was able to just barely touch the trash can with a toe.   "Ugh!" She nudged it away, as far away as she could with her foot.  "Disgusting..."

She then turned her attention back to the boy on the floor.  His color had gone from green to pale... probably an improvement?

"Hey, um," Faleece prompted, worried that he might have slipped back into almost-dying territory.  "You alright?"

A few more coughs were all she received in response.

Faleece winced.  "Um... hey!  A name!  You got a name?"  Maybe she was stalling...

A few more moments of silence followed by a soft but gravelly voice.  "Deego."

"Deego?  That's your name?"

Silence. 

"Um, well, I'm Faleece!  I totally rescued you from Itchy, who seems to be a psycho..."  She looked down, remembering what he'd done to Deego.  This turned her attention back to the gaping wound in his thigh.  A wound that was still bubbling fresh blood.

"Mmm... that's a pretty bad cut there..."  More stalling.  "I'm gonna put some peroxide on it so it doesn't get infected, okay?"  Faleece was no medic, but she understood the basics well enough from personal experience to know that infection was not pleasant to go through.

She aimed the spray bottle.  "Alright, here we go, okay?"

"WAIT!"

Faleece froze.  "What?"

Deego hadn't moved, but his breathing had quickened.  "I'm... I'm not ready, hang on."

Faleece lowered the spray bottle and waited.

Deego's breathing did not slow down, nor did he give her the go ahead.

"It's gonna get infected," Faleece warned.

"I know, I just... its gonna hurt and I... I just... hang on..."

Faleece frowned and waited a few more seconds.  She noticed that Deego's knees were shaking.  She sighed.  This would take forever.

Deciding that the application wouldn't hurt her at all, Faleece re-aimed the peroxide and sprayed.

The spritz sound was followed by the hissing sound of the hydrogen peroxide bubbling around the large gash.  After this slight delay, Deego yelled, the sound turning into a cry as he began kicking the injured leg as though trying to shake off the antiseptic.  "AAhhhHAAHAAA WHAT THE HELL?!" he looked up angrily at Faleece, tears springing to his eyes.

Faleece looked indignant.  "What?!  If I weren't helping, it never would have gotten done!"

"AAAAH THAT HURTS!"  

"That means its working!" Faleece relayed matter-of-factly... at least, that's what she'd been told when she was a child...  Between his flailing, Faleece sprayed a good half dozen more times, Deego's responses getting less dramatic each time.  In spite of the reaction, Faleece did have to admit that it was much easier to do this to someone else than herself.

Whether because the pain was leveling off or because he was tiring himself out, Deego at last went silent, seeming to adopt a far-away stare in response to his situation. 

"Alright!  Hard part's over!" Faleece said in a voice she hoped sounded positive.  She reached back into the first aid kit for the salve that would sooth the now inflamed wound.  "Hmmm," she pondered out-loud.  "That's pretty deep... you probably really should have stitches."

Deego tensed.

"Well, we don't have any, so a bandage is going to have to do for now, okay?"

He relaxed.