#ice pack
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Lake Michigan with ice and clouds.
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Eliot Spencer in Leverage 2x02 "The Tap Out Job"
#whumpedit#whump#leverage#eliot spencer#leverageedit#christian kane#my gifs#mod post#beaten#bruises#ice pack#sweaty#blood
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Leverage 3x7 The Gone Fishin' Job
#leverage#eliot spencer#parker#whump#ice pack#injury#sibling energy#i love their friendship so much#the last gif isn't whump but it's too cute not to post
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Russell Crowe in Mystery, Alaska
Ice pack
#by uuuhshiny#Russell Crowe#whumpril2023#whumprilday4#Ache#+#Ice pack#uuuhshiny's gifs#whumpedit#yes. it's whump#I ached#RC gifs
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can you do a knee or ankle with a bag of ice on it? or maybe just a bag of ice in general? 😅 /nf
Iceee
#custom emoji#cute emoji#discord emojis#emotes#disability emoji#disabled emoji#disabled#ice pack#bag of ice
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Day 14: Blood-Stained Tiles / Ice Pack
@febuwhump prompt: Blood-Stained Tiles
@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Ice Pack
Fandom: The Bad Batch
Characters: Cadet Hunter, Cadet Wrecker
Cadet Batch as featured in my WIP fic 'Pieces of the People We Love' - haven't read it? All you need to know is that Crosshair is the oldest, and Hunter is the youngest!
Word Count: ~1085
Click here to read on AO3
Synopsis: Wrecker finds Hunter in the freshers nursing a split lip.
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Wrecker bowled into the freshers and pulled up short. “Oh, Hunter! Didn’t realise you were in here,” he said jovially, shifting his bundle of clean clothing to one arm.
Hunter had his back to Wrecker, head hunched down between his narrow shoulders. His hands were braced on the edge of the sink, knuckles white with the strength of his grip.
“Go away, Wrecker,” he growled, but the words were thick and slurred and Wrecker immediately took another step forwards.
“Hey… are you okay?”
“’M fine,” was the answer, but Wrecker was ducking round Hunter’s guarded pose to peer at his face – bruised and swollen, with droplets of blood beading from the broken skin of his lower lip.
“Hunter?”
“Leave me alone!” Hunter spun away, bringing an arm up to shield his face.
Wrecker looked about, spotting Hunter’s towel, decorated with blotchy red patches, discarded on the floor in the corner. The sink was conspicuously clean but flecks of blood lingered on the tiled wall, a directional spray of scattered droplets which had escaped Hunter’s attempts at cleaning.
“I’m gonna get you somethin’ for that,” offered Wrecker, not wating for an affirmative before disappearing and returning with a med-kit. Hunter was slouched in the corner, scowling, but he had given up trying to hide his face. His split lip dribbled blood onto his chin, and his skin was smeared with the evidence of greater bloodflow wiped away. His hair hung loose and unruly around his face, and fury and stung pride flashed in his eyes behind a film of tears.
“Here.” Wrecker smiled sympathetically and held out the cooling gel-pack. He nodded encouragingly as Hunter took it and daubed it gingerly to his swollen lip.
“Thanks,” muttered Hunter sullenly, decisively choosing not to meet Wrecker’s gaze.
“How’d it happen?” asked Wrecker, leaning back comfortably against the opposite wall.
Hunter’s eyes darted to him guiltily, then he looked away again. “Slipped and fell.”
Wrecker snorted. “Sure ya did,” he scoffed, ignoring the glare that Hunter shot him. “Yer need t’do a better job hidin’ the evidence if you want me to believe that.”
He indicated the tiles on the wall, flecked with Hunter’s blood. Hunter scowled – an ineffective expression given that his lower lip was puffy with swelling – and sank down to his heels.
“Crosshair did it,” he admitted. Wrecker huffed a laugh.
“You two fightin’ again?” he teased, sitting down as well and shuffling to sit beside Hunter.
Hunter didn’t reply immediately, shifting the ice-pack to find a cooler area to soothe his lip. After a moment he said, “Don’t tell.”
Wrecker stretched, the joints of his shoulders popping. “You two are always fightin’. Why’s this time a secret?”
The younger clone shrugged. “Dunno. Just…”
He trailed off into silence. The teary film in his eyes was threatening to spill.
“Aww… c’mere, Hunt,” said Wrecker, going to put an arm round Hunter’s shoulders. Hunter flinched away, then gasped as the sudden movement jarred the ice-pack against his lip and set it welling blood again.
“Why’d you always try and do that?” he snarled, panic adding a waver to his words.
“Do what? Give you a hug?”
“Yeah. That.”
Wrecker guffawed. “’Cos it’s nice, di’kut,” he laughed, grabbing a resistant Hunter and pulling him forcibly into a two-armed hug. Hunter struggled, but trapped in the corner and distracted by his injured mouth, he stood no chance of overwhelming his bigger opponent. He gave up the fight, stilling to stiffness in Wrecker’s arms.
Wrecker tucked his chin on top of Hunter’s tangled hair, humming soothingly. “There. You wanna tell me why you don’t want anyone t’know you an’ Cross were fighting again?” He chuckled. “An’ why you don’t like hugs?”
For a long time there was no response from Hunter. Slowly, slowly, some of the tension bled from his frame; just as readily as his lip bled onto the shoulder of Wrecker’s shirt.
Eventually Hunter let out a soft exhale, and his shoulders properly relaxed. Wrecker tightened his arms reassuringly.
“Don’t want to get reassigned,” muttered Hunter reluctantly.
“Huh?”
“What if… what if I get reassigned?” Hunter asked, not of Wrecker – just a searching question, one he didn’t expect to be answered. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll be on my own again.”
Wrecker petted Hunter’s hair softly, like he had seen Crosshair do when he thought no-one was watching. “You think if you an’ Cross keep fightin’ you’ll get reassigned?”
“Well they’re not going to reassign him,” said Hunter bitterly.
Wrecker chuckled. “True. Cross fights with everyone.”
Hesitantly Hunter folded his free arm – the one not holding the cold-pack to his lip – around Wrecker’s waist. His head grew heavier on Wrecker’s shoulder.
“See? Hugs aren’t so bad,” joked Wrecker, jostling Hunter just a little.
“Don’t want to get used to it,” came Hunter’s voice, muffled against Wrecker’s collar.
Now it was Wrecker’s turn to go still. He squeezed Hunter tightly, drawing a protesting grunt from the smaller boy.
“Don’t worry, vod.”
Hunter’s head jerked up at the mando’a word which fell so easily from Wrecker’s lips.
“What did you say?” he said, disbelief and longing warring in the wobble of his voice.
Wrecker leaned back and grinned, not unkindly, at Hunter’s surprise. “Vod’ika,” he teased. “Never thought I’d get to say that! Thought I was always gonna be the youngest!” Beaming, he released Hunter and clambered to his feet, offering his hand. “C’mon. We should get your lip looked at. Looks like it ain’t gonna heal up on its own.”
Hunter reached out and took Wrecker’s hand, letting the bigger boy haul him to his feet whilst keeping the ice-pack on his lip. It still throbbed, but at least the cold had numbed it a bit.
“I don’t need you to do this,” he said defensively. “I can look after myself.”
“Well, sure.” Wrecker sounded puzzled. “All of us can. Don’t mean I can’t look out for you too.”
Hunter peered up at him cautiously from behind the curtain of his hair. Then he leaned his shoulder into Wrecker’s chest, the slightest touch. Wrecker took the prompt and draped a single arm over Hunter’s shoulders. The hug was looser than before, but his mouth curled in a smile at Hunter tentatively inviting it.
“Don’t worry about Cross. He’ll get used to you.”
“If he hits me like that again I’m gonna break his hands.”
Snorting a laugh, Wrecker guided the smaller cadet out of the freshers at last. “Sure you are Hunter,” he smiled. “Sure you are.”
#febuwhump#febuwhumpday14#blood-stained tiles#badthingshappenbingo#ice pack#the bad batch#tbb fanfic#cadet batch#tbb hunter#tbb wrekcer
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My first actual crochet project in a while!
I’ve had summer classes, work, and my internship and my brain is just such mush I hardly do anything for myself. But I’m trying to work on that!
For a while I’ve just been wrapping this ice pack in a cloth napkin but I’ve really really wanted to make a cover! Im glad I did!!! It’s not a huge fancy project but I actually made something!
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Keep frozen for heat resistance
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Whumpril Day 11 - Alt. 1 Ice Pack
Fandom: Call of Duty (Modern Warfare II). | Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley & John "Soap" MacTavish | For @whumperscorner
The mission had taken much longer than anticipated, the few terrorists that had survived the initial attack pulling them into an intense game of cat and mouse. The frustration had burrowed deep under Ghost's sternum, lingering even when they passed their detainees off to the right people and headed back to base. For the most part, the source of his frustration could be traced to the man walking in front of him, Sergeant John MacTavish, and his tendency to attract trouble everywhere he went.
Soap held himself tensely, his breaths shallower than they should've been. He was most definitely hiding an injury, but from what Ghost had been able to tell, he wasn't actively bleeding - not heavily at least. His best guess was that the idiot had hurt his ribs, either as a result of a close-quarters fight with one of their terrorist or a bullet to the vest. Whatever the reason was, Ghost was not about to let him play it off as if nothing had happened.
Once they reached the barracks, Ghost nodded his goodbyes to Price and Gaz, waiting until they had disappeared from view to grab Soap and drag him into one of the vacant rooms.
"Ghost, what—"
Ghost let go of him in favor of closing the door behind them before facing the Sergeant. "Strip."
Soap's eyes grew incredibly wide, his lips parting soundlessly. It lasted for all of a second a second that greatly amused Ghost — before he snapped out of it and plastered a wide grin on his face. "My, Lt., shouldn't you treat me to dinner first?"
Ghost pressed his lips in a thin white line, his arms crossed. "Vest off, Sergeant, unless you want me to drag your ass to medical instead."
"I'm fine, Ghost," Soap huffed, mirroring Ghost when he crossed his arms as well, though it only proved Ghost's point when he winced and let his arms fall down at his sides. He glowered like a scolded child.
"Clearly," Ghost said, his voice dry with sarcasm. "Want to try that again?"
Soap muttered something under his breath, but his shoulders sagged in defeat. He reached for the straps of his vest, looking at Ghost. "Took a round to vest from distance. It's nothing."
"If it's nothing, why'd you hide it?"
"Ghost, seriously?" Soap groaned and let his vest fall to the floor. He rolled his eyes when Ghost only stared at him in response. "What, you want me to take my shirt off?" He pulled it over his head along with his neck gaiter. Underneath, on the left side of his chest, was a large, reddish purple bruise where the bullet must have hit. "There."
Ghost stared at him in silence, long enough for Soap to shift awkwardly on his feet. "That's a busted rib if I've ever seen one."
Soap looked down at his chest, and Ghost did not miss his grimace when he saw the damage. "Yeah, well…"
Ghost snorted at the slight embarrassed blush that crept up Soap's neck, shaking his head. "Put your shirt back on, Johnny, and let's go find you an ice pack."
#whumpril2023#whumprilday11#call of duty#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#cod mw2#my writing#alt 1#ice pack
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Hey all you spoonies! 🥄👋🏻
I have a suggestion for you, if you can make it happen.
🙌🏻 Mini-fridge in your room. 🙌🏻 Even better if it’s close to your bed.
It’s a life saver for me. I keep two ice packs in the tiny freezer part and water and drinks in the main part. I often need ice packs for my conditions, since I overheat sometimes. And also, for the epilepsy, which is only one of my conditions, I’ll get massive headaches after, even for the small ones. So I just grab an ice pack and when that’s no longer cold, I switch it for the other.
I’m aware not everyone can get one, but if you’re able, I recommend it! I got mine at Walmart in 2017 and it’s going strong! It’s so much easier than having to constantly call someone to your room to get you a new ice pack or whatever it is you may need in there.
Keep going! You got this! 💪🏻
#spoonie#spoonie hacks#spoonie tips#chronic illness#actually disabled#disabilities#mini fridge#ice pack#actually epileptic#epilepsy#seizures
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Slept weird and now my neck hurt 😔
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https://www.deviantart.com/sim-base/art/Base-022-Cold-301254249 sick Mileena from Mortal Kombat
#cute#my edit#my art <3#sick#mortal kombat#mileena#teddy bear#runny nose#snot#tissue#fever#ice pack#vomit tw#base
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Hallmark’s Love on the Sidelines
Laurel is a struggling fashion designer who finds herself with a job as a personal assistant for Danny, a quarterback sidelined with an injury.
Starring John Reardon and Emily Kinney
#whumpedit#whump#my gifs#mod post#hallmark#love on the sidelines#danny holland#john reardon#broken bones#sports#sports injury#ice pack#ankle#ankle injury#foot injury#injured#recovery#crutches#hallmark putting giant ads and the credits in the fucking middle of the screen is my villain origin story#I could not cut it out or blur it out without destroying the rest of the image#infuriating#but I was determined to make this set#for the john reardon whump
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Magnum P.I. 1x16 The Black Orchid
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Whumpril 2023 - Day 12
Here, something a little bit softer and sweeter c: Archer and the team are @that-one-thespian's!
TWs: None!!
Alternate prompt: Ice Pack
A soft hiss filled the room, pulling a small sympathetic frown from Mariano as Archer pressed his face against Mariano's leg. "I know. I know." He carefully lowered the ice pack onto Archer's ribs. Dark fingers threaded through Archer's hair, sliding along his scalp as Mariano gingerly took down his ponytail.
Archer let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes and finally starting to relax against the couch cushions. Mariano had turned on some cooking competition, figuring the background noise would help while Jewel finished stitching Wren back up. "Those guys sucked."
"They did." Mariano agreed, fluffing Archer's hair up as he reached for another ice pack. This one was settled onto Archer's hip, where Mariano had seen him take a vicious kick from someone in steel-toed boots. "At least we got the data we needed."
"And no one got stabbed." Archer added, wincing as the cold started seeping through the pajama pants he'd changed into.
Mariano nodded. "And no one got stabbed."
With the two major worries being iced, Mariano shifted to rest his hand on Archer's shoulder. With Archer's head on his lap, Fletcher hobbling in with ice of his own, Bastian helping Elana to wrap her ankle, and Wren and Jewel finally joining everyone, Mariano could relax. They were banged up, and sore, but they were there.
Mariano would happily take that.
#whumpril2023#whumprilday12#ice pack#mage of violence#archer#dragon of diamond#fletcher#wren#jewel#elana#the team#just something soft and cute before tomorrow's fill#c:<
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