blake kathryn
occasionally subtle
Product Placement
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Three Goblin Art
Discoholic 🪩
if i look back, i am lost
Acquired Stardust
Andulka
titsay
Cosimo Galluzzi
art blog(derogatory)
No title available
cherry valley forever
pixel skylines
Jules of Nature
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available
Origami Around
wallacepolsom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Slovenia
seen from Canada
seen from Malaysia
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
@shock-doc-cpr
Return to Resus
After being chased off by a creep, I am back, I love resus and want to reconnect with my old friends and RP partners and get back to the kink i love. I'm using an old acount I used to lurk a long time ago
I'm always open to RPs and love meeting new people
A gift for one of my favorite people 🥰
Noir: Shadow Work 🖤🎞️
The rain outside was relentless, blurring the city lights into streaks of neon amber, but inside, the frame was perfectly clear. He didn’t need the window tonight. He was already inside the apartment, sitting in the deep velvet armchair positioned just far enough in the shadows of her bedroom to watch her step out of the shower.
She stood before the vanity mirror, completely unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of his gaze. Her skin was flushed pale pink from the heat, damp curls clinging to her neck. He watched the deliberate, intoxicating ritual she performed every night. She didn't reach for lotion or perfume. Instead, she tilted her chin up, closed her eyes, and slid two dark-nailed fingers deep into the hollow of her throat.
From across the dim room, he could see it. The violent, rhythmic leap of her carotid artery against her skin. He watched her chest rise and fall, tracking the heavy, visible tremor right over her breastbone as her heart strained under the pressure of her own thumb. He could have sat there for hours, purely intoxicated by the raw mechanics of her life force moving so beautifully, so frantically, beneath her velvet skin.
She caught his eyes in the mirror, her hand freezing over her collarbone. A subtle tremor ran down her spine.
"You're quiet tonight," she murmured, her voice a soft, breathless friction in the quiet room. She turned around slowly, gripping the edges of her black lace robe, trying to play it cool despite the sudden, erratic spike in her breathing. "Are you just going to sit there?"
He rose from the shadows, the low light catching the sharp silhouette of his jaw. He didn't answer until he crossed the hardwood floor, stopping so close she could feel the cold air clinging to his dark coat. From his pocket, he slowly drew a heavy, clinical stethoscope, the polished chrome bell catching the amber glow of the bedside lamp.
Her breath completely hitched. Her eyes tracked the silver metal, and he watched a heavy wave of blood rush up her throat, her pulse practically hammering against her skin now.
"I'm going to do what I came here to do," he whispered, his voice low, dominant, and entirely devoid of hesitation.
He didn't wait for permission. He stepped into her space, his left hand sliding behind her neck, his thumb pressing firmly over her carotid artery—not to check it, but to trap it. He felt the fierce, desperate force of her blood pressure surging violently under his skin. With his other hand, he guided the ice-cold metal chestpiece directly onto her bare breast, burying it against her skin.
She gasped at the freezing contrast, her knees instantly giving in, but his grip on her neck kept her anchored right where he wanted her.
Through the earpieces, her heart wasn't just beating; it was a frantic, slamming outburst of adrenaline and surrender. A hard, thudding cadence that filled his entire head.
He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his thumb shifting to press even deeper into the pounding pulse point on her neck.
"Look at me," he commanded softly, watching her chest heave against the heavy silver bell. "Listen to how loud you are for me. From this second on... I own every single pause, and every single beat."
HAPPY PRIDE MONTH
I wanted to wish all of the LGBTQ+ friends who make the resus community an amazing place a happy pride month.
This is a post I make from time to time but in the process of making new friends here in the resus community I can’t help but remember all the friends who disappeared and left.
I still miss all of you, and am here if you ever want to come back
Table Top Transition
Home, Sweatpants, & Heartbeats 🛋️✨
Finally home after a marathon shift, and yes—I am currently standing in my wonderfully, shamelessly messy closet. 🚪🤫
There is absolutely no better feeling than stripping off the 'uniform' and freeing the girls from their daily prison sentence... well, okay, maybe one better feeling. Dropping a stethoscope onto my chest and listening to my sweet Roxie do her thing.
She’s a little too relaxed right now, so I think I’ll have to tease her a bit to get those RPMs up. Though, to be completely honest, I wish someone else was doing the teasing for me. There is just something entirely irreplaceable about a solid, heavy, manly hand pressing down over a raging heart, isn't there?
Until that hand gets here, it’s just me, my oversized comfy clothes, and a very happy evening cadence. Have a gorgeous night, everyone!🌙
Jenny’s Standstill Heart
In the back of the ambulance Lucy worked against the never ending monotone coming out of the monitor connected to Jenny’s bare chest. They were nine minutes out from the hospital when the alarms started going off and Jenny decompensated from alert and engaging to the motionless body in front of her. “Still four minutes out!” Yells Harrison the driver.
Lucy started compressions right away after shocking the initial vfib which went straight to Asystole after the first shock. Her arms were tiring after five straight minutes of compressions broken only by a few pauses to give breaths with the ambu bag. Jenny’s eyes were closed and her head bobbing with each downward thrust into her petite chest. “Stay with me!” Lucy begs.
As the journey from the gym to the hospital where Jenny was found lightheaded with an injured ankle wears on, Lucy continues to work on Jenny knowing that her efforts are likely futile. She gives an amp of epi periodically but it does nothing for Jenny’s standstill heart. “Don’t do this Jenny, you gotta fight!” She screams, but the words land on dead ears as they turn into the ambulance bay.
Lucy climbs on top of Jenny’s half naked body and continues her ruthless assault on her chest as the ER staff pull the gurney out of the ambulance and into the trauma bay. Finally in the room Lucy jumps off and the ER staff takes over compressions. A small blonde nurse places her hands where Lucy’s were and starts pressing down with deep force. Jenny’s whole body sways along with the rhythm.
“How long has she been down?”
“Nine minutes since last rhythm. Two amps of epi given with no response. Continuous CPR the entire time” Lucy reports with sadness in her voice.
“Okay let’s get labs and assess neuro to see if there’s anything left to bring back” the doctor grumbles. The team starts check reflexes, administering more drugs, and starts intubating.
Lucy doesn’t usually stay for this part, normally she’s doing paperwork or heading out in another call, but she can’t leave until this is over. Another fives minutes pass. The doctor announces that pupils are fixed and dilated. Jenny’s been down fourteen minutes without any response.
“Okay, at next pulse check if there’s no response I say we call it… is everyone in agreement?” The doctor asks. Two more minutes pass. “Pulse check…” everyone stops what they are doing and stares at the monitor that makes the same sound it has for the past sixteen minutes.
“Time of death 842 am” the doctor goes to Jenny’s body and places his stethescope on her chest and listens to her lungs and heart. “She’s gone. We did everything we could. If she has family let’s get them in here to say goodbye”.
Lucy starts sobbing and drops to the floor of the trauma bay. When the nurse comes to comfort her and try and make sense of this strong reaction from the normally composed EMT, Lucy manages to sob out the words, “she’s my sister”.
Seal photo dump because anyone who knows me, especially IRL, knows that I have an absolute obsession and love for these creatures!!!!
I am so normal about these sillies.
I love seals i think they’re so adorable and whenever im stressed or sad I watch seals videos
Can you believe a team of these chonky boys took out Bin Laden
Does anyone else just get super resus horny out of the blue?
I just did
Under My Ribs 💌
There are loves that arrive loudly,
with fireworks and slammed doors,
with trembling hands and promises
that dissolve by morning.
But this—
this was born before language.
Before I knew grief.
Before desire had a name.
Before I understood loneliness
or the terrible shape of growing older.
There was only the pulse.
Small.
Relentless.
Sacred.
A rhythm living beneath my ribs
like a secret animal
that never once abandoned me.
And God, how I loved it.
The first time cold metal touched my skin,
I thought:
so this is what holiness feels like.
The stethoscope against my chest,
silver and winter-cold,
and suddenly my body was no longer silent.
It spoke.
Raw.
Unfiltered.
Without performance.
Without shame.
No polished language.
No lies.
Only the wet thunder of survival.
lub-dub.
lub-dub.
lub-dub.
The most honest thing I have ever heard.
People speak of souls
as if they float somewhere distant,
ethereal and untouchable.
Mine lives here—
inside muscle and electricity,
inside rushing blood,
inside breath dragged deep into aching lungs.
I have spent years listening.
To the quickened rhythm of longing.
To skipped beats in the dark.
To the beautiful violence of panic and desire.
To the slow settling hush
when I finally feel safe enough
to exhale.
And breath—
sweet God, the breath.
The inhale that opens me.
The exhale that empties me clean.
The fragile rise of my chest at 3 a.m.
proving I am still here.
Still alive.
Still becoming.
There were years when everything changed.
Faces.
Homes.
Bodies.
Versions of myself I barely recognize now.
But never this.
Never the pulse waiting faithfully beneath my fingertips.
Never the breath returning after every sorrow.
Never the heart, stubborn and glowing in the dark,
beating through every ruin like a promise.
I do not want perfection.
I do not want silence.
I do not want stillness.
I want the sound.
I want the racing heartbeat beneath cold metal.
I want the trembling inhale.
I want the ache, the pressure, the rhythm.
I want the proof.
Because to be listened to—
truly listened to—
is the closest thing to love
I have ever known.
- Brina
A part of you feels guilty for feeling like this.
I had gotten sick almost a year ago and it had changed everything, my little heart and lungs struggled to do half of the things I used to, and the seizures left me so exhausted and dependent on you, so weak.
But you couldn't lie to yourself, seeing my little body so weak and fragile, you loved it. Being able to take care of my every need, my entire life dependent on you being able to help me through seizures, pump my little heart when it forgot to do it on its own, or give me rescue breaths until my brain remembered to do it on my own.
Before I was so independent, the most time I let you care for me was when I got the occasional flu. And you thought you liked that about me, but being my caregiver was a whole new kind of love.
Would it be weird to say you're glad it happened?
This very epic drama written and commissioned by @birdofcauthon14 of their characters Ylva (rescuer) and Dani (rescued) in which a truck smashes into the side of a hospital building and starts a chemical fire, resulting in a pretty intense rescue
no pulse, start chest compressions now…
Feathers
Muriel's shift was an hour from ending, and a call just came in. This meant that, nearly without a doubt, Muriel was going to be working for at least 5 more hours...and her next shifted was slated to start in 7.
Dave was already hustling towards the ambulance. The call was a possible hit and run, a single victim left in the street. About 4 minutes away in a weird part of the city. Kind of an industrial area by the water that was being gentrified into a neighborhood. Not a lot of foot traffic, usually. Dave drove as Muriel prepped. "I see her, still in the street, unattended," Came Dave's clipped, deep voice as they pulled up. Muriel grabbed the bag and a backboard as she jumped out of the vehicle. She assessed before walking up.
A woman lay prone in the street. No evidence of crush injury from this far off and from the way she was sprawled across the street Muriel was guessing this was what the police always reported as an "up and over." Another woman stood at the corner, about 50 feet away, clutching a phone. Dave shouted out to her "did you call this in?" The woman nodded, but then sprinted away.
"Welp, that sucks."
Muriel moved in closer. Dave came in from the other side. This is something they'd done hundreds of times together. Dave's training as a combat medic and Vet. meant he always circled 'round, so that they never came in together from the same approach. Muriel thought it a little silly, but respected Dave enough to humor him.
As Muriel knelt beside the woman on the ground she gasped. Dave didn't seem to notice, and Muriel usually worked from a remove -- she was good at treating injured people as bodies, as something distant from what she knew she was too...fragile -- but this time she was immediately struck by how beautiful this woman was. Her skin was dark, and despite the cuts and bruises seemed to be radiant. She was also tall, probably over 6 feet. She appeared to be middle aged, with long, coarse hair, done up in a thick, disheveled plait.
She lay on her back, eyes closed, mouth open, her arms twisted at unnatural, but seemingly unbroken angles. Her legs were rigid, oddly straight from likely having rolled a long distance.
Dave shouted, "ma'am!?"
No response.
Muriel gently felt for a pulse as Dave opened their bag. "She's got a pulse, slow and irregular."
Dave nodded, "okay, check neck and spine and I'll prep to get her airway."
Muriel pulled on her nitrile gloves and looked the woman over again. No signs of external bleeding other than cuts and other minor lacerations. The woman was wearing an ankle length, long sleeved dress. It was green and heavily embroidered in geometric patterns. Mostly green on green. Incongruously, the woman was wearing enormous, likely 3 or 4 sizes too large combat boots. Leather. Laced tightly all the way up.
Gently, Muriel felt under the woman's neck. Not broken. Moving slowly, she slipped her hands under the neckline of the woman's dress, which was loose enough for her to easily fit her hands under. She walked her hands gently along the woman's spine -- the woman was wearing a thick, slick feeling sweater under her dress, so Muriel didn't have the access she'd hoped for, but was still confident that the woman's spine was unbroken. Dave checked her hips and pelvis.
Dave's tone was always curt and to the point, "safe to move her?"
"Yeah, neck and spine seem good. Lets get her onto the backboard and into the bus to get an airway." Dave agreed and they got to work, quickly rolling her on to the backboard so that they could move her into the ambulance. As they lifted her the woman gasped a little.
In the ambulance Dave checked the woman's eyes. Her pupils were symmetrical, but unresponsive to light. "Check out her eyes."
Muriel looked, and was shocked. Shocked by what she saw, but also by the fact that it visibly shocked Dave. the woman's eyes weren't brown. They were gold. Actually golden. "Never seen that before."
"Me neither."
Muriel checked her pulse again. Weaker, more erratic then before, "lets get that airway set up and get an EKG on her."
Dave moved to the woman's head to place a breathing tube, while Muriel grabbed the sheers to cut off the woman's dress. She couldn't see any obvious fastener, and felt badly cutting through it. She started at the hem and worked up to give Dave room to work.
The sheers cut through the hem, and it was easy to work up the side. Muriel noticed the oversized boots again. Once she got to about the knee of the dress Muriel found a rhythm to the cutting, and was able to rip the dress all the way up to its neckline in one fluid motion without the sheers.
Before realizing she was even doing it, Muriel screamed: "oh my god!? what the fuck!?" A beat later Dave joined in, "holy shit!"
The woman was completely naked under her dress. No undergarments whatsoever. Just the dress and the boots. The woman's breasts, chest, and belly were exposed with the same radiant skin as her hands and face, but what Muriel had taken for a sweater were feathers. Sprouting from the woman's ribs and sides, wrapping around her back, were thick, pitch-black feathers. The feathers ran down her hips, fading to skin at her knees.
"What the fuck is this? Is it a costume?"
Muriel ran her fingers with and against the feathers on the woman's thighs.
"They're...not a costume," after a second, "I've...I..." before she could finish Dave interrupted. "Lets stabilize her. We can figure this shit out later." They got back to work.
Dave secured the woman's airway, as Muriel placed the EKG electrodes on her chest and belly. She had to forgo placing a few because of the feathers. As Dave started to breathe for the woman the monitor's alarmed. Muriel shifted, "starting compressions." She shifted her weight to be directly over the prone woman, and interlaced her fingers -- she placed her palms on the woman's sternum and started compressions. She felt ribs break on the 2nd compression. The woman was thin, ropy with muscle, but her chest seemed so frail to Muriel.
After 30 compressions, Muriel sat back. The woman's chest was slightly sunken, and was heavily bruised. As Dave breathed for her, her breasts and rib cage rose noticeably. Her stomach was lax, and soft making a bowl of her ribs and feathered hips.
Muriel glanced at the monitor, "heart rate is still irregular and thready," she listened at the woman's left breast with her stethoscope. She could hear a heartbeat but was starting to second guess what normal was here. She checked the woman's neck for a pulse. Then reached for thigh to check her femoral pules. She couldn't feel anything amidst the feathers. "Lets get her shoes off to check her pulse. I can't find one in her legs." She moved to unlace the woman's boots, but instead Dave pulled out the knife he always carried and expertly cut the right boot off of the woman's foot -- he'd had a lot of practice cutting off combat boots. As he did so Muriel whispered to herself "what the fuck." Dave did the same, cutting off the woman's left boot, too. She didn't have feet. Or, well, she had feet, but she didn't have human feet. Her feet were yellow, scaled raptor feet. She had 4 toes, all with wicked looking talons -- 3 facing forward, 1 back.
"I'm going to resume compressions..." Muriel sat back up and began to work on the woman again. Dave continued to manually breath for her. The monitor alarmed. "V-Fib."
Muriel sat back and moved out of the way as Dave brought the paddles to the woman's still frame. He placed one above her left breast, the other at her side right where her skin stopped and her feather's started. Muriel, "her feathers?" Dave shrugged as the defibrillator scanned. When it toned Dave said "stay clear" and delivered the shock. The woman convulsed, and the monitor screamed. The air immediately smelled of burning feathers. Dave said, "again" and shocked her again. This time the chirping of a steady heartbeat returned. He put the paddles away, Muriel took over breathing for her.
They both sat back, very quiet. As Muriel squeezed the bag the woman's rib cage expanded, her lungs filling with air.
This is the moment where they'd normally fly into action, getting the ambulance moving. "Where do we even go...do we take her to Mercy? What...what is happening right now?"
so, remember that animation from back in june?
i started working on it again, this is how it's looking so far
Long time no see... Am i still your resus queen ? 👑😁
Yes, absolutely
