Fuck Donald Trump And All He Stands For. My Blog Is A Safe Space For Queer People.

Been playing Baldur's Gate 3 recently and my god what I wouldn't give to have Astarion pump my failing little heart back to life.....to lay bare and lifeless while my chest is roughly worked on and air blown forcefully into my lungs....

Not what i normally post but it’s my blog

warhammer fact of the day:

did you know? the Sabbat-pattern helmet used by the Sisters Militant of the Adepta Sororitas was designed with a liftable visor so that they can kiss and make out with each other while wearing it (they may have to tilt their heads a little).

this is true and canon. verified information.

Goth Chick

Goth Chick didn’t wake up in the hospital, she came to. She remembered what it looked like from last time, it looked just like this time. Goth got her GHB dosage wrong again and was paying the price. 

Goth felt something in her windpipe; it felt slightly less worse than the time she took a shot of vodka down the wrong way. She knew it was that damned breathing tube again, and that damned ventilator was pumping her chest full of air against her will to do it herself. Goth reached up to yank it out, finding her black nailed hands bound to the bed she tried to shake the tube out of her black lipped mouth but the residual effects of the GHB make her too weak right now. The rustling of her attempts to free herself brought the attention of the ward nurse. Goth heard her coming, and with a few seconds to think she decided to play dead. The nurse tried to rouse her, that failing she did the usual assessments with her stethoscope, pulling the cover off Goth’s chest to expose her black bra and electrodes. The nurse then paused the ventilator for several seconds to see if Goth was breathing for herself yet. Goth laid there quietly as the air flowed out of her lungs, making no attempt to inhale. It was uncomfortable, but no worse than the time she let someone hold her underwater until she passed out. The nurse resumed the ventilator, and walked off. Goth was a great actress, especially when the role was playing dead. Goth was sure she was alone, then worked to free herself from the wrist binders holding her to the table. Her left hand came loose, quietly, she loosened her right. Goth reached up to rip out the tube in her throat, feeling her way around the tape when she had a second thought. “Hey, I’m already in the hospital, hooked up to all this stuff, like they really saved me from something.” Goth’s mind grew blacker: “What if I let them kill me? They can get me back, yeah. I could really be undead. I could talk to god, satan, that senior who killed himself my junior year.” Goth thought about it, remembering last time she was here. If she pulled out her tube or unhooked the ventilator, they’d just hook her back up. No good. Cutting a EKG lead would be too easy to see, but wait! She remembered an old speaker wire that looked normal but was broken inside. That’s it! “They’ll think my heart stopped, then shock me dead!” Goth Chick had recovered enough strength to set about her task. She slowly slid the sheet down, exposing her torso. The staff had cut away her t-shirt, and cut the seat of her panties to insert a foley catheter into her bladder. “Shit, another awful tube in me!”, she thought to herself. But they left her leather skirt and belt on her, the belt that hid a buckle knife. Made in Taiwan, the blade didn’t have a great edge, but a good tip that could plunge into the thin insulation of her EKG wire. Goth pulled the wire onto the handrail, then began stabbing. Several stabs and a slight tug, the steady blips on the monitor stopped, followed a few seconds later with the familiar whine of an arresting patient. Goth quickly resheathed her knife, and plunged her hands back into the cuffs. She didn’t want to give her sabotage away, and she didn’t want to do anything stupid like stop the doctors from killing her! The nice thing about a teaching hospital is you never know who you’re going to get. Fortunately for Goth’s intentions, her staff immediately began coding her without so much as a cursory carotid pulse check. Some nurse jumped on her bed and began crushing her chest! The nurse stopped while someone cut away her bra, then began pumping again. The ventilator was disconnected, and a bag was used to fill her aching chest, then the air was squashed out again “C'mon, kill me!!”, Goth thought as she tried to remain expressionless. Goth felt the effects of cardiac medications start their way through her body; cold, hot, fainting. She deliriously heard the magick words, “Clear!” Bam!! Goth felt the pain of the shock, like when she bit the electric fence at a field trip to a dairy farm. But she wasn’t dead yet. Goth was paralytic, the shocks and the drugs pinned her down, she couldn’t save herself if she even wanted to. “Kill me…” The interns never noticed the disturbed sinus rhythm when the paddles were applied, just the squalling of the flatlined monitor above Goth’s head. Bam! Another shock. Bam! This time Goth couldn’t feel the sting, for her heart had stopped and the pain eclipsed anything the interns could do to her. “Kil…” The resident ER doctor moved to Goth Chick’s bed. He checked her pulse: nothing. He then asked the interns the usual questions. Then he grabbed the paddles and placed them on Goth’s chest. He glanced over his shoulder to check the charge and noticed the defib’s monitor. Perplexed, he then looked at the bedside EKG, then the defib again. “Oh, SHIT!”

Coming soon… 🫣

What's ur ultimate resus fantasy 😊😊🤭🤭🤭

I imagine going into sudden cardiac arrest while being wheeled down a hospital hallway, and the medical team has to resuscitate me right there—defibrillating me while other patients watch.

Should I push the button?

NOBODY SHOULD SCROLL PAST THIS!

*************************

Reblog if you would stay up all night with someone you care about, just to talk them out of suicide.

Oh, wow, that gum's really stuck. At least it makes for a good show...😈

I miss @delicious-beats

Bite Back

Pt 1/3

Original concept from @delicious-beats. Contains F resus, M rescuer, LUCAS thumper, automated CPR, mouth to intubation tube, depictions of gore, trying to resuscitate a zombie

Blackened veins ran in a spiderweb from the holes in Luffy’s shoulder. She shouldn’t have even been out, Elijah had told her again and again, the fucking news had told her, the trucks with megaphones and military personnel blaring up and down her street for the past ten hours had told her. But she needed to know he was okay. She was always trying to look out for him. He’d never hated her selflessness more than right now. 

Her skin was bloodless, her usual dark brown hue sapped until she was completely ashen, the circular row of splotchy red teeth marks and black fissures of veins the only real color left to her body. Her heart was beating arrhythmic on the monitors as the ambulance tried to find a path forward through the streets choked with people fleeing. Her head rolled back on her neck and she looked up with bleary eyes towards him. 

“Eli,” she choked out, her throat tight to the point of almost closing up. 

They’d dealt with bite victims all day. They’d lost all of them, and then had to cut it and run when the old woman or the jogger or, worst, the fucking ten year old who had been playing soccer, reared back up and tried to take a bite out of them. Elijah cradled her head, his mind racing. The symptoms presented differently with everyone they’d encountered. One spewed blood, one just bottomed out and died, but so far complete cardiac arrest had occurred within the first twenty minutes of contact. His eyes darted to his watch. It had been fifteen since she’d screamed over the phone and he had raced to come find her.

He pressed a square of gauze against the wound, his breath shaking. “Okay,” he said, “Okay, Lu? I need you to look at me, focus on me, hey-“ He held her face with one hand and snapped his fingers near her ear with the other. It lolled like a doll with loose joints. “We’ve got a couple minutes before… b-before the first real symptoms kick in, the really bad ones. But I’m gonna get you to the hospital, alright?” He added in an aside to his partner in the front, “How long you think until we get there?” 

“Fuck man,” Jonas spat, “Every street is clogged, the military is setting up choke points on every major road. They’re not gonna let us even through if she’s infected.” 

“I didn’t fucking ask about the stupid fucking military, I asked how long until we get there,” Elijah replied in a tone that warned the other man he would not be accepting any other outcome but Luffy making it to the front doors of Saint Edward’s.

“Twenty minutes, if I can find a decent backstreet. Probably forty if I can’t.”

He nearly sobbed. The air left his body in a rush with a stricken noise he couldn’t hold back. Luffy’s hand reached out and grabbed at his shirt. 

“Eli,” she sputtered again, but there were tears in her voice this time. “I don’t … I d-don’t wanna die…”

Twenty minutes. Probably over that, but he couldn’t think about that. His eyes snapped to his watch again. Three minutes left. He could keep her heart going. If she wasn’t really dead then she couldn’t be undead. He would keep her alive, and they would cure her, and she would live. There was no other option. Not for him.

Spittle dried white at the corner of her lips as he stared down into her face, those lips he had kissed until they were swollen now trembling and pale. He smoothed hair back from her forehead and leaned in close. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he promised in a low voice, cupping her head with both hands. “You’re gonna be alright. You trust me?” She nodded, even as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and slid into the pillow beneath her. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We take care of each other, right? It’s what we do.” 

Two minutes. Elijah kissed her sweaty forehead and drew back, collecting everything he’d need for an arrest as the ambulance swayed and bounced over uneven terrain. He snatched out epinephrine, pulled out the AED, strapped her to the gurney, all with an efficiency he didn’t even know he was capable of. Already her heart was beginning to skip, throwing out PVCs on the monitor as her jagged heart rate either spiked above the line or dipped far below it. He eyed the restraints they had on hand, the brace boards for trauma victims and cuffs meant for psych patients. As he drew the LUCAS out, he tested the straps on the sides of the large, crescent moon shaped piece of equipment. There was no telling if they’d hold if she tried to take a swipe at him, but maybe. 

Twenty seconds. Elijah gripped the neckline of Luffy’s shirt and tore it down the middle, sweat beginning to drip down the back of his neck and back. She was hardly moving, her bare chest glistening with sweat. Her nipples had lost their color too, and her breasts swayed jerkily with every short, halting breath she managed in. Her eyes were drooping closed. Her jaw twitched open a little and slackened back as she took one more shallow sip of air. Then it left her lungs in a quiet sigh as her chest deflated for the final time. There was one more quick flutter on the monitors, her heart clawing for the last few quivering beats it could manage. Then it stopped. 

Elijah clamped down on the welling nausea to tap the timer on his digital watch. Jonas cursed up front as the EKG hummed a flatline. Wasting no time, he slid the curved backboard under her limp body, lifting the LUCAS and clicking it into place above her. The thing settled between her breasts, the flexible rubber plunger flush against her sternum. One of her arms hung limp off the side of the gurney and he took it by the wrist, fixing it in the straps on one side of the machine, then the other. Her fingers curled against the motor case. Elijah jabbed at the controls and turned it on. 

The machine jabbed the plunger down into her chest with all the force of a trained EMT. It cratered into her heart, the force displacing through the rest of her body so her belly rolled out, her shoulders rippling with the force of a robot that didn’t care if it felt her ribs pulp under its hands. It had never held her. It had never known the warmth of her. The thing pistoned and made a noise far too loud for the cramped space. Zip, zip, zip, zip, zip.

Luffy’s eyes were half mast and empty, lips parted. Elijah checked the timer. A little over a minute had passed since the start of the arrest. Maybe there was still time for intubation. He snatched the laryngoscope and tilted her head back by the jaw, sliding the metal blade past her bloodless lips and over her tongue. The curved blade made an easy track down her throat, bulging it slightly as he maneuvered an intubation tube down the tunnel of her trachea. He slid it home with one hand, the other resting at the pulse point in her neck to feel the blood being forced to circulate. He knew he couldn’t look at her face. He had to focus on her tongue, her mouth, her teeth, the hard bone of her jaw under his fingers. If he looked at her face, he would lose any shred of sanity he had left. But his eyes slid anyway. They moved down to her eyes- only they weren’t half lidded anymore. 

They bore into him, the pupils grey discs in the center of her dark eyes. The whites of her eyes were shot through with red veins. Her jaw clicked as it moved around the intubation tube, her lips peeling back, exposing her teeth.

“Fuck!” Elijah exclaimed and jerked back, his back hitting the wall of the ambulance. 

“What, what?” Jonas shouted from the front seat.

Luffy’s body moved, her arms tugging at the restraints, her legs shifting underneath her. They curled up and kicked out, but the belts around her waist held her down. Her back arched against the LUCAS even as it slammed down against her sternum. Elijah heard something shift sickeningly under the skin. A guttural growl rose up from the tube and she thrashed, shaking her head, rolling back as her teeth gnashed against the tube poking from her mouth. She gargled and sputtered and he realized with a jolt that she was tearing up her throat with her bucking and shaking. 

“Luffy,” he breathed. “Lu… Lu, stop, stop it-“ He lurched forward, grabbing her jaw, but she snapped her head to the side and clicked her teeth within a hairs breadth of his hand. "Fuck, fuck!"

"Eli! What the hell-"

"Focus on the road!" As he snapped this at Jonas, Luffy burbled a mouthful of blood from around the tube in her throat. He managed to throw his arms in front of his face just in time before it might have splattered in his eyes or mouth. The last thing poor Jonas needed was another flesh crazed cannibal in his ambulance. Elijah had already decided he was saving the woman he loved, and he was going to keep that promise; he just needed to stay warm and breathing to do it.

He lunged for her again, clapping his hands on both sides of her head, just out of reach over her bared teeth. "This is definitely not how you're supposed to intubate someone," he panted, already out of breath, "But I know very well you're not breathing for yourself right now." As if in agreement, Luffy gurgled with a throat full of blood, already darkened by the virus until it was almost black. He wrapped his lips around the opening of the tube and forced a breath into it. Might as well, things definitely couldn't get any worse. His eyes flicked to her chest as the LUCAS did its thing, bowing her ribs in against her spine with ruthless efficacy, and blew another breath into her oxygen starved lungs, even as she fought against it. Six minutes in arrest.

Her arms strained against the bindings and he heard the velcro straps start to go, but she was just mindless and angry enough she didn't seem to understand what was keeping her stuck. She twisted her wrists and struggled until the skin was bruised and raw, but the straps held. They'd hold until they couldn't anymore. He considered a neck brace to try and hold her still enough to attach an ambu bag and actually intube her properly, but if he lessened his hold on her for even a moment, she'd snap and flounder, teeth chomping as they lunged for his flesh. The LUCAS had to be good enough. It was all he had. He stood there, bowed over her, filling her lungs. Each breath forced her chest to rise before it was again crushed under the LUCAS as it beat her heart over and over again. Every time he gave her oxygen, she made a wretched wheezing noise and used the breath as fuel to snarl wordlessly at him. Her legs kicked out, banging against the walls of the truck, scattering supplies tucked into corners. Her body tried to roll up and fight the machine as it relentlessly battered her dead heart.

"Please, stay still, Lu." He stroked his thumb against her cheek, trying to suppress the sobs he felt building behind his eyes. Every time the LUCAS pounded against her sternum, it forced what little air was left in her lungs out, often in a grunt or a a hollow rasp in the back of her poor, abused throat. “I got you, baby. I’m not giving up, not until I get you back.”

She snarled again, but the thumper kept cutting into her displeased noises. “Haaar-huk, graa-ack, huk-“

Ten minutes in arrest. Elijah looped his arm under her chin, pinning her in his bicep to keep her head still, and punched the pause button on the LUCAS. He slipped two fingers under his headlock to feel for her pulse, but the monitor returned to a flatline the moment the automatic compressions stopped. She was still dead even as she squirmed under the restraints.

“Come on, fucks sake, Lu. Give me something,” he muttered, slapping the resume button to once more fill the ambulance with the rhythmic zip, zip, zip noise. Her breasts bounced with the force, her hardened nipples drawing lines back and forth in the air. He breathed once more into the intubation tube. The machine forced the breath back out as soon as he’d given it. She didn’t stop her struggles, trying to fight the thing assaulting her motionless heart. He had to wonder if she felt it pushing stale blood through the chambers and ventricles. He could only imagine how much it must hurt to be conscious during CPR. Her ribcage had probably already been rendered into pudding by now. He could see the bruise where the plunger knocked again and again into her. “I’m sorry,” he found himself whispering.

Thirteen minutes in arrest.

He didn’t know how much more he could take. Seeing Luffy’s face contorted, empty even as it moved and made noise, was starting to break Elijah. Or at the very least break some vital piece of him. He ran his thumbs over her temples as tears silently slipped down the bridge of his nose and patted wetly on her face. She didn’t even flinch. There was nothing left of her in those diseased eyes. He held her still enough in another headlock to check her pupil reactivity, but they were fixed and blown wide with dilation. He didn’t know if that meant the virus was doing its job, or if she was beyond saving. Luffy rattled the gurney as she kicked again, thrashing her body as much as she could while being pinned down by the machine punching into her sternum over and over. Sixteen minutes. Sixteen minutes and absolutely zero electrical activity: her heart hadn’t even quivered. It simply lay silent and still while the rest of her kept moving.

Elijah sank into a crouch, holding onto the edge of her bed to keep himself from collapsing utterly. He heard Jonas radioing into the hospital, but he couldn’t focus on anything but the pitiful gasps and grunts Luffy made as the thumper pinned her beneath it. “Stay still, please God just stay still,” he begged her and felt tears spilling over. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. All he could do was sit there and shake with silent sobs. He couldn’t even focus enough to breathe for her. “Baby,” he rasped in a hoarse whisper, “Please… Jesus Christ, please…. Come back…”

“Eli,” Jonas called again for what had been the third time, but was the first time Elijah had heard him. “They say they’ve got some kind of antidote, they’ve tried it on a few of the infected.”

Elijah wiped tears and snot off in his upper arm. “Any results?” he asked, warbling. The greater part of him wanted to tell Jonas not to bother, that it was too late. That she was gone. The most an antidote would do would maybe put her down peacefully so she could rest easy. But there was that little kernel, that one errant thought that said maybe, maybe she could come back.

“A couple people have come back. Not totally, they think it might be brain damage from the time they spent without circulation. But they stop trying to rip people’s faces off.”

They’d been her life support since the moment she turned. Her heart had barely even been given a chance to stop in her chest. The LUCAS had good rates of spontaneous return of circulation; if anyone could come back, Luffy had been given the best chance.

“They know we’re coming?”

“They’re gonna meet us the second we pull in.”

He stared down into the silver discs of her eyes. She was still in there, somewhere. She had to be. “Hold on, Lu. I’m gonna get you back.”