So This Is A Dumb Poll, Blame My Friend And Her Favorite Movie

Two screenshots from small custom vids I've done for other people, just DM with id there as is anything in particular you'd like to see me do with my equipment and I'll try and work something out with you.

I have no limits on what you want me to do (within reason) but do keep in mind if you are going to ask me to do custom clips/pics that you keep in mind that I am transgender and that I have a penis and so far only small titty bumps for breasts...

I have tons of different medical equipment, but I'm willing to buy some more if there is anything you'd like to see me do with!

DM me if interested!

First vid of the day! Found my old stethoscope! I wanted to see how the quality compared to my newer one - what do you think? My heart was beating pretty fast and hard here 🥰 and I wanted to put on some of my lacey things.

Sorry for the obnoxious watermark, too. This video would be deemed more appropriate for places like YT (no nudity) so it's more likely to be stolen and reuploaded....

Becca's roommate comes home to find her choked on the kitchen floor!

So months ago @undeadandlovingit requested for Eve heimliching up water on herself. It took me so long to actually draw but I was VERY happy to oblige!

Hello my rescuers your Morena latina feel better 🦋🔥

I do not like that man, he’s smarmy and self righteous

And a transphobe and enabler of Trump

Over time, the picture on the source of the recent harassment in the cardiophile community has slowly but surely become increasingly clear, even in the face of their username being a missing piece of this puzzle. Not too long ago, it came to my realization that this harasser, who is likely a single person wreaking havoc, is doing this more or less because he is a misogynist; somebody who has a prejudice towards women - Or an incel; somebody who hates women while feeling they are entitled to sex (so basically another form of a misogynist). The least of reasons for this hypothesis/assessment is based on what he says to female users in a number of his anon asks. This is definitely a major drive for them, whether it's one or one of others, and given his access at least, this harasser is probably a member of our community.

To whoever you are, harasser, I only have this message for you: Step into the light, or be quiet and go away.

Cardiophile moodboard created by me ~ 🩷

Feel free to use this but crediting might be very appreciated by me! Thank you very much ~ 🩷

Chapter 1: Out of Breath

Megan Turner was used to working under pressure. Fifteen years as a paramedic had trained her body to react without hesitation, her mind to stay calm even when everything around her was falling apart. But as she pulled her ambulance to the side of the empty country road, something felt different. Something was wrong—not with the scene, but with her.

The call had come in about a young woman—Anna Patterson, mid-twenties—who’d collapsed while running along the rural stretch of road. Megan spotted her instantly, a bright neon tank top making her small figure easy to see against the brown, sun-baked landscape. She didn’t waste a second.

Her breath quickened as she grabbed her medical bag and rushed to the runner’s side. Kneeling on the gravel shoulder, Megan immediately checked for a pulse at Anna’s neck. It was weak, thready, almost nonexistent. She could feel the faint flutter beneath her fingertips, as though life was slipping away.

The CPR training kicked in automatically.

Megan placed her interlocked hands at the center of Anna’s chest, just below the sternum, and began compressions. "Stay with me," she murmured. She pressed down hard, her strong arms forcing her weight into each compression, the rhythm coming naturally after years of practice: 100 to 120 beats per minute, enough force to push the chest at least two inches deep.

But as she counted out loud, something shifted inside her own chest. At first, it was just a twinge—an uncomfortable tightness she assumed was from fatigue. She had been on the job for 12 hours, after all, running on little more than adrenaline and coffee. It wasn’t unusual to feel some discomfort after a long day.

Then the twinge turned into pain—sharp and sudden, right beneath her breastbone. She froze for a split second, inhaling deeply to see if it would pass. It didn’t. Instead, the pain spread, radiating out from her chest to her left arm. Megan’s fingers faltered on Anna’s chest, her brain struggling to process what was happening. She knew this feeling—tightness, pressure, pain shooting down her arm.

A heart attack.

Her mind screamed at her to stop, to call for help, but the paramedic in her wouldn’t allow it. Not yet. Not while Anna needed her. Megan clenched her jaw and continued compressions. She knew what the stakes were. The young runner’s chest heaved slightly under Megan’s hands as she pressed, but there was still no breath, no sign of life.

Thirty compressions, then two breaths, she reminded herself, forcing her thoughts back to the procedure. Megan grabbed her mask, sealed it over Anna’s mouth and nose, and breathed for her—two deep breaths, making sure the chest rose. Back to compressions. One, two, three—her arms were moving, but her body was failing.

The pain in her chest became unbearable, like a vise closing around her heart. Each breath she tried to take was shallow, like breathing through a straw. She could feel the sweat running down her back, her forehead damp despite the cool breeze cutting across the open road. Her hand instinctively moved to her chest, pressing against the ache as if she could hold her heart together through sheer force of will.

She ignored the warning signs at first. Nausea. Cold sweats. Lightheadedness. They were symptoms she had seen in her patients a hundred times, but her body refused to acknowledge them. Not now. She had to keep going. One, two, three…

But with each compression, her arms grew weaker, her breaths more labored. The stabbing pain in her chest intensified, like a fist squeezing her heart tighter with each beat. She pressed harder on Anna's sternum, trying to focus on her technique, trying to block out the pain. The runner’s chest barely moved beneath her hands, but Megan kept going, her teeth gritted against the rising tide of agony in her own body.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit her, and the world tilted. Megan’s hands slipped, her vision blurred, and she almost fell forward onto Anna’s body. She caught herself, barely, her fingers trembling as they found their place back on the runner’s chest.

"Come on," she whispered, half to Anna, half to herself. But the pain in her chest was no longer something she could push through. It was crushing her, every breath a struggle. The stabbing sensation had become an overwhelming pressure, spreading to her neck, her jaw, even her back. It wasn’t just her arm now; her entire upper body felt like it was caving in.

Her hand hovered over her radio as she forced out another breath. "Dispatch…" Her voice was weak, shaking, barely audible. “I...need assistance. Paramedic down."

Her heart was failing her, the rhythm that she had trusted for so long spiraling out of control. Each beat felt erratic, as if her heart were skipping over itself, racing and slowing unpredictably. The irony was bitter—performing CPR while her own heart was giving out.

The world dimmed as the pain reached its peak. She could feel herself slipping, collapsing beside Anna. Her hands fell from the runner’s chest, her body giving in at last. As Megan lay there on the hot gravel, her face pressed against the cool earth, she thought of Anna—of the life she was supposed to save. Would anyone come for them?

Geto trying to save Shoko after she got attacked by a powerful curse and her heart stopped beating.

Geto desperately doing chest compressions to save Shoko as he is scared to lose another person close to him.