#Testing of Injections

[glarcresearch]

Easy and Safe Health Checks: Testing of Drugs in Delhi and Testing of Bhasma

Do you ever wonder how the medicines and health items we use are safe? This is done by special places like Glarc Lab, which does important health checks. Glarc Lab helps test many things like medicines, powders, and health devices. In this blog, we will talk about how they do the Testing of Bhasma, Testing of drugs in Delhi, and many other things.

What is Bhasma?

Bhasma is a special powder used in Ayurveda, an old Indian way of medicine. Bhasma is made from metals and herbs. It is very helpful but must be safe before people use it. So, Testing of Bhasma is very important.

At Glarc Lab, experts check if the Bhasma is pure and clean. They look for any harmful things in it. This helps make sure that people can take it without problems. Only safe Bhasma should be used for health.

What is Drug Testing?

Medicine is also called a drug. These are used to treat fever, cough, pain, and other health problems. Sometimes, wrong drugs can make people sick. That’s why Testing of drugs in Delhi is so important.

Glarc Lab checks every drug to see:

Is it made with the right things?

Is it safe for people?

Does it work the right way?

They test tablets, syrups, and other types of medicines in the best labs. This makes sure we are safe when we take them.

Capsule Testing Made Easy

Capsules are small pills that have medicine inside. Many people take them for health problems. But before these capsules go to stores or hospitals, they need to be tested.

Glarc Lab does Testing of capsules to check:

Are the capsules strong?

Do they have the right amount of medicine?

Do they dissolve at the right time?

By testing capsules, Glarc Lab helps make sure the medicine works well in our body.

Why is Raw Material Testing Important?

All things like drugs, creams, or even soaps are made from raw materials. These materials can be herbs, powders, liquids, or even chemicals. Before using them to make anything, they should be clean and safe.

That’s why Raw material testing in Delhi is needed. Glarc Lab checks the raw materials to see if they have:

Any germs

Any bad chemicals

Good quality

If raw materials are not tested, the final product can be unsafe. Glarc Lab makes sure only the best materials are used in health items.

Surgical Item Testing for Hospitals

Doctors and nurses use many tools in hospitals. These tools are called surgical items. They include scissors, needles, gloves, and more. If they are not clean, people can get infections.

So, Surgical Item Testing is very important. Glarc Lab checks:

Are the items clean?

Are they safe to use in surgeries?

Will they hurt the patient?

Only tested surgical items should be used in any hospital or clinic.

Testing of Medical Devices in Delhi

Medical devices are machines that help doctors check our body. This can be a thermometer, heart check machine, or sugar check tool. These devices need to give correct results.

Glarc Lab does Testing of Medical Devices in Delhi to make sure they:

Work properly

Show correct results

Are safe for patients

This testing helps doctors treat people the right way.

Why Do Injections Need Testing?

Injections are used to give quick medicine into the body. But what if the injection has germs or wrong medicine? That can be very dangerous!

So, Testing of Injections is done by Glarc Lab. They check:

If the medicine inside is safe

If the needle is clean

If the injection works the right way

Testing injections helps doctors treat people safely and fast.

Why Choose Glarc Lab?

Glarc Lab is one of the best labs in Delhi. They do testing for many types of health items. They use smart machines and have skilled people working in their labs.

Glarc Lab provides these services:

Testing of Bhasma

Testing of drugs in Delhi

Testing of capsules

Raw material testing in Delhi

Surgical Item Testing

Testing of Medical Devices in Delhi

Testing of Injections

Each test is done with care and honesty. Many hospitals, doctors, and companies trust Glarc Lab. They help make sure that everything we use is clean, safe, and works well.

Final Words

Testing is very important for health and safety. With proper testing, we can trust the medicines, health items, and devices we use. Glarc Lab helps make this happen in Delhi.

So next time you take a tablet, use a medical device, or see a doctor using a tool — remember, Glarc Lab may have tested it first to keep you safe!

If you need any testing services, you can count on Glarc Lab for safe and trusted results.

[territorial-utopia]

Huzzah! It's birthday time! I'm slowly accumulating more and more things I like (latest additions this vest I made and a travel typewriter! Still need to fix the latter one though)

Sure has been a year.

[whatiswhump]

Test subject gets injected with something new everyday.

It hurts each time, it hurts A LOT actually, but they’ve realized they can take the momentary pain. They get held down, they jerk involuntarily, hopefully they don’t scream and it’s over in seconds.

… the problem is what comes afterward…

Each vial of anguish has its own set of side effects that the scientists catalogue to the minutest detail.

The burning hives breaking out, their throat closing without warning, red and dark marks icily tracing their veins, world shifting vertigo, amnesia, temporary paralyzation.. each day is a surprise and Whumpee still doesn’t know what these tests are meant to achieve.

All they know is when the side effects come, and they always do, the pens scratch into notepads and their begging behind the glass does nothing to alleviate the horror.

[mikavlcs]

Young Blood

Pairing: Gwen Stacy x gn!reader

Summary: You’re new and Gwen’s forced to show you around. It doesn’t end up being as tedious as she was expecting.

Warnings: mild astv spoilers, my writing lol

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: listen, i know this will get like 20 notes, but i needed to do this okay. i love her sm. this also my first time writing anything marvel related...as i’m sure you can tell.

Masterlist

Gwen dug the heels of her palms into her eyes as she walked up the wall, unsuccessfully fighting off another exasperated groan.

She shouldn’t have been doing this. She should be off in another dimension fixing anomalies and fighting bad guys, not this. Anyone could greet new recruits, so why Miguel insisted on making her do it was an eternal mystery. She was honestly starting to think that he just liked annoying her.

Jessica offered her a sympathetic smile when delivering the news, but Gwen didn’t want sympathy, she wanted a mission.

Still, she followed orders, knowing that disobeying would only put her further down the mission list. Plus, with Pavitr and Hobie busy, what else was there to do?

She stepped up to the entrance and her eyes found you immediately. You were easy to spot. All newbies were. They all had the same awe-struck reaction to the compound which Gwen couldn’t blame them for, considering she had been there once herself.

Your mask was off, hanging limp in your hand while your eyes roamed the vast space with a wonder she felt only months prior. It brought a smile to her face.

“Insane right?” she prompted gently as she approached, drawing your eyes to her. “I had the same reaction. It’s not every day you get to see so many spider-people in one place.”

“I didn’t know there was this many. I thought I was the only one,�� you admitted, astonishment clear in your voice.

Gwen chuckled. She knew the feeling well. “We all did, but there’s more of us than you can imagine.” She stuck out a hand. “I’m Gwen, by the way. I’m your appointed tour guide.”

You took her hand, gave it a firm shake. “I know, Jessica told me. Nice to meet you, Gwen.”

“Likewise. What Earth are you from?”

“Uh,” you trailed off briefly, tapping at your watch. “Earth-69.”

A snort escaped her before she could stop it. You looked up at her, wide-eyed, while she fought to contain herself.

“I’m sorry, I’m—it’s nothing. I’m actually from Earth-65. Never met anyone from the same sector.”

Brows raised, you remarked, “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She took a look at your suit and, seeing the abundance of white expertly weaved in with the mixture of red and black, couldn’t help asking, “So, why white? Most of us use some combination of red and blue. Besides me, obviously.”

“I want my enemies to see me coming,” you replied, sending her a slightly off-kilter grin that made her unsure whether you were joking. She smirked.

“Foreboding. I like it.” She turned, signaling you to follow. “Now, come on. As you can see, we have a lot of ground to cover, and Miguel will want to brief you as soon as possible.”

You obeyed, following her as she led you around headquarters, showing you the ins and outs of every winding, overlapping corridor while informing you of the group’s purpose. Well, as much as she could without ruining Miguel’s big presentation.  

About a third of the way in, she said, “I should probably start introducing you to the others.” Gwen looked around, spotting a few vaguely recognizable masked faces. She pointed to one with a large white spider on his chest.

“That’s Peter.”

He gave you a polite salute which you returned, giving him a compliment about his suit as well. A familiar plastic Lego figure came ambling down the way. Gwen pointed to him.

“That’s Peter.”

The Lego twisted his hooked handpiece in your direction. You gave him a startled wave in response, looking thoroughly perplexed. Next, a car came cruising along and she pointed at it.

“That’s also Peter.”

The car honked as it sped by. You didn’t even react this time. Up ahead, Gwen spotted Ben, sitting off to the side with his tightly curled up to his chest. She sighed, halfheartedly pointed in his direction.

“That’s—”

“—let me guess, Peter?” you cut in, shooting her an unimpressed look.

She laughed. “No, that’s Ben.”

You let out a quiet oh and gave him a concerned look. Ben roused at the sound of his name, looking at the both of you with an absolutely pitiful expression.

“I would greet you guys, but I’m in the middle of a very traumatic flashback,” he moaned, overblown sorrow tinging his words.

Your eyebrows knitted together, and you started to say something, but Gwen pushed you forward by your shoulders, throwing a bye, Ben! over her shoulder. “Trust me, it isn’t worth it,” she mumbled at the confused look you gave her.

She continued guiding you by your shoulders, ignoring the odd looks from passing spiders, until you stopped short suddenly, making her crash into your back.

You were frozen, mouth agape, and eyes locked on something across the way. “Is that a t-rex?”

Following your gaze, Gwen beamed and nodded. “Yep. That’s Spider-Rex.” You gaped.

“Hey Pter!” she yelled with a wave. A ground-shaking roar echoed through the compound in response, scaring more than a few spiders and making Gwen chuckle. After a few more moments of gawking, you unfroze and continued following her, though your eyes still trailed the dinosaur in the distance.

The rest of the tour went without a hitch, the only small stops being a break to pet Spider-Cat and a short introduction to Margo. Soon enough, she was leading you down the long, dark hall to Miguel’s sanctuary.

Miguel, seemingly sensing your guys’ incoming presence, activated his platform and let it start making its way down. Very, very slowly. He wasn’t even halfway down by the time you guys made it into the heart of his den. Gwen barely resisted facepalming. He did this with every newbie, and it got more embarrassing each time. She leaned over to you, suppressing a grimace at the bewildered look on your face.

“I know, it’s slow. He just really likes his dramatic entrances,” she explained away, watching Miguel’s platform descend from above ever so slowly.

You both stood there for minutes, until finally, the platform stopped, and Miguel turned to peer down on you with a look that would have made Gwen cower a few months ago, but now just made her want to heave a deep sigh.

“Miguel, this is the new recruit from Earth-69,” she announced, voice rising at the end with the remnants of a poorly contained laugh. You didn’t seem to catch it, but Miguel did. He gave her a look that told her to knock it off and she did. Hesitantly.

He stepped off the platform and approached, eyes solely on you. “I see. Welcome. We’re glad to have you, but unfortunately, your briefing will have to wait as something has come up.” He turned his gaze to Gwen then, and her posture straightened as she realized what he was about to say.

“Gwen, I’ve got a mission for you.”

“Yes! Finally,” Gwen replied. But he was giving her that look. Her excitement wavered, realization setting in. “Please, don’t say tha—”

“You’ll be needing a partner for this mission.”

Gwen groaned. She hated partner missions. Even when she got the opportunity to pair up with people she liked, she much preferred to go solo. She just worked better alone—always had and always would. She tried to plead with Miguel, “C’mon, Miguel, you know I’m—"

“This is non-negotiable, Gwen,” he cut her off with that annoyingly authoritative tone that she couldn’t stand. “Pick a partner and get going ASAP. I want this done as quickly as possible.”

He walked off then, likely to find Jessica, leaving Gwen to sulk. And she did for about thirty seconds before pulling herself together. When Miguel wanted something done, it needed to get done. She could sulk more later. For now, she shifted her focus to finding an apt partner.

Her go-to’s were off the table. Pavitr was off on his own solo mission and Hobie was off doing lord knew what. Probably something anarchy related. She would have to find someone else.

Jessica was always busy these days, and she was taking less and less missions as her due date neared anyway, so she was off the table. She wasn’t asking Ben because she valued her remaining sanity. Peter B was an option, but he’d want to bring his baby along and Gwen was not equipped to deal with that. But maybe Web-Slinger would work. Or one of the various Peters. Or…maybe someone new.

Her eyes drifted over to you, still at her side despite the tour being technically over. She sized you up, once, twice, then one more time for good measure. You could work, but she knew nothing about how you operated in the field. The entire time, you watched her with a raised brow, unafraid of her judgment.

She crossed her arms, leveled you with a careful look. “On a scale from 1-10, how would you rate your combat ability?”

“10/10, but I may be a bit biased,” you responded immediately, still maintaining eye contact.

Her chin jerked up, eyes narrowing. “Confident, okay. How about web-slinging ability?”

“9.5/10.”

“9.5?”

“I might’ve hit a bird last time,” you said with a small grimace, “but everything else was flawless. Promise.”

That was good enough for Gwen. She uncrossed her arms and stepped closer, giving you a sly smile.

“Well then, newbie, how would you like to go on your first mission?”

You were pulling on your mask before she could even finish, red fabric veiling your wide smirk. “Let’s do it.”

With a nod, she inputted the coordinates Miguel sent her and watched as a corresponding portal spawned with a brilliant burst of light and color. The sight never got old, no matter how many times she saw it. You stepped up to her side and she sent you a sideways glance, a smile creeping onto her face.

Partner missions sucked, but she had a feeling this one wouldn’t be so bad.

[vertejay]

Blue lock……… blue lock……. blue lock… bluuuueeee loooockkkkkkk……….. (I’m saying this in both a brain rot way but also like when you’re acting like you’re haunting someone if that makes sense)

[redfilledfantasies]

First Sight, Chapter 7 (Final)

The syringe felt precisely weighted in Carmella's hand as she turned back toward Audrey, the clear Adenosine solution catching the examination room's fluorescent light. She approached the reclining chair with measured steps, her clinical gaze assessing the naked form before her with practiced detachment that grew more difficult to maintain with each passing second. The electrodes remained attached to Audrey's freckled skin, the wires creating a technological tether between her exceptional physique and the steadily beeping monitor that continued to document each perfect contraction of her heart.

"I'll need to access a peripheral vein," Carmella explained, her voice maintaining its professional timbre despite the flutter beneath her rib cage. "The medication requires direct venous administration for accurate pharmacological stress simulation."

Audrey extended her right arm without hesitation, her musculature shifting beneath freckled skin with elegant precision. The movement highlighted the exceptional vascularity along her forearm—prominent vessels mapping pathways that Carmella's trained eye followed with inappropriate appreciation.

"Perfect," Carmella murmured, the word escaping before she could contain it, its clinical assessment compromised by the warmth in her tone. She applied the tourniquet with practiced efficiency, the blue latex band contrasting vividly against Audrey's skin as she secured it at the precise tension required to restrict venous return without compromising arterial flow. Audrey's veins responded immediately, rising to prominence beneath her skin—a testament to her exceptional hydration status and minimal subcutaneous fat.

Carmella's fingers palpated along the antecubital fossa, identifying the optimal insertion site with unconscious precision. The median cubital vein presented as an ideal target—straight, well-fixed, with sufficient diameter to accommodate the catheter while minimizing the risk of infiltration. She cleansed the site with methodical circular motions, the alcohol swab leaving a cool path that evaporated quickly against Audrey's warm skin.

"You'll feel a slight pinch," she warned, the standard phrase falling from her lips automatically as she positioned the needle at the optimal angle of approximately fifteen degrees. The venipuncture was flawless—first attempt cannulation with minimal tissue disruption. Carmella observed the immediate flashback of blood into the catheter hub, confirming perfect placement within the vessel lumen. She advanced the catheter with gentle precision, withdrew the introducer needle, and secured the IV line with a transparent dressing, all while maintaining sterile technique despite the tremor that threatened her usually immaculate control.

"Excellent vein," she noted, her clinical observation undermined by the slight elevation in her voice. "The Adenosine will circulate rapidly through your system." Audrey smiled, the expression transforming her already striking features. "I've been told I have exceptional circulation," she replied, the casual comment carrying suggestive undertones that registered in Carmella's nervous system with the precision of an EKG.

Carmella connected the prepared syringe to the IV line, her fingers brushing momentarily against Audrey's skin in the process. The brief contact sent another jolt of awareness through her already heightened nervous system, but she maintained her professional facade with desperate determination.

"The effects will manifest within approximately thirty seconds," she explained, her voice steadier than her pulse as she began the injection. "You'll likely experience flushing, possibly shortness of breath, perhaps a sensation of chest pressure. These responses are expected and temporary."

The clear solution disappeared into Audrey's vein with metronomic precision as Carmella depressed the plunger at the exact rate specified in cardiovascular pharmacological protocols—6 milliliters per minute, neither too fast to trigger hypotension nor too slow to compromise test efficacy. She monitored the injection site for any signs of infiltration, though the perfection of her venipuncture technique made such complications highly improbable.

The ECG monitor registered the first pharmacological effects within twenty-three seconds—precisely within the expected timeframe. Audrey's heart rate began to accelerate from her resting 72 beats per minute, climbing steadily as the Adenosine triggered massive peripheral vasodilation. The monitor's beeping increased in frequency, documenting the progression with electronic precision.

Carmella observed the physiological cascade with clinical fascination that barely masked her deeper interest. A flush spread across Audrey's freckled chest, the capillary dilation creating a visible map of the drug's systemic effects. Her respiratory rate increased to approximately 18 breaths per minute, her chest rising and falling with greater amplitude as her body compensated for the increased oxygen demand.

"How are you feeling?" Carmella asked, her clinical question standard procedure during pharmacological testing. "Warm," Audrey replied, her green eyes brightening with an internal heat that seemed to transcend the medication's physiological effects. "My heart is racing, just like when I first saw you watching me at the gym."

The statement hung between them, its directness stripping away another layer of professional pretense. Carmella's cheeks flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature of the examination room, the capillary response mirroring Audrey's drug-induced flush with uncanny symmetry.

As the Adenosine reached peak effect, Audrey's chest began to rise and fall with visible force, each heartbeat creating a perceptible movement beneath her sternum. The freckles across her skin seemed to dance with the rhythm, creating patterns that drew Carmella's gaze with magnetic intensity. She found herself tracking the pulse with inappropriate fixation, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she counted the visible contractions.

Audrey noticed the focus of Carmella's attention, her eyes narrowing with knowing perception. "My heart is pumping so hard now, doctor," she said, her voice dropping to a sultry tone that sent vibrations through Carmella's already heightened nervous system. "You should hear it in action."

The suggestion triggered an immediate autonomic response in Carmella—her pupils dilated fully, her own heart rate accelerated to approximately 110 beats per minute, her peripheral blood vessels expanded with a rush of warmth that defied her attempts at professional distance. The stethoscope around her neck suddenly felt heavy with potential, the instrument both a symbol of her medical authority and a conduit for the intimate connection she desperately desired.

"Yes, I should auscultate your heart during peak effect," Carmella agreed, the clinical justification transparent in its inadequacy. Her hand rose to the stethoscope, fingers curling around the familiar tube with unnecessary force. "It's standard protocol during pharmacological stress testing."

Before she could position the earpieces, Audrey's hand closed over hers, the contact sending another jolt of awareness through her nervous system. With deliberate slowness, Audrey took the stethoscope from Carmella's trembling fingers, the transfer of the instrument representing a seismic shift in the power dynamic between them.

Carmella's professional mask cracked visibly, her expression betraying the conflict between desire and protocol. "Please give me back the stethoscope, Audrey," she demanded, though the authoritative tone she attempted was undermined by the breathless quality of her voice. "I need it to auscultate your heart during this te—" "No," Audrey interrupted, the simple negation carrying more force than its single syllable suggested. "You don't need this to hear my heart." Her green eyes locked with Carmella's, the pupillary dilation signaling arousal rather than pharmacological effect. "And we both know this isn't really about the test anymore, Doctor Hill."

"Please place your ear against it, against my chest," Audrey suggested, her voice a husky whisper that seemed to vibrate through the clinical air of the examination room. "You know you want to." The words hung between them, stripped of any pretense, laying bare the truth that had been masked by medical terminology and professional distance. The stethoscope dangled from Audrey's fingers, the instrument that had served as Carmella's shield now held just beyond her reach, forcing her to confront the desire that had driven her to this moment.

Carmella's heart skipped a beat—a literal premature atrial contraction that she identified with automatic clinical precision even as her consciousness registered the significance of the arrhythmia. Her pulse accelerated immediately afterward, compensating for the momentary disruption with a rush of tachycardia that sent blood pounding through her vessels with such force she could hear it in her ears.

"That's not—" she began, the protest dying on her lips as her medical training battled with the raw desire that had crystallized within her. "The protocol requires instrumental auscultation for accurate documentation of—"

"Forget the protocol," Audrey interrupted, her green eyes bright with challenge. The electrodes on her chest moved with each accelerated heartbeat, the wires swaying slightly with the force of her cardiovascular response to the Adenosine. "This isn't about documentation anymore. We both know that."

Carmella drew a deliberate breath, attempting to activate her parasympathetic nervous system through controlled respiration—four counts in, hold for seven, eight counts out. The technique had calmed countless anxious patients throughout her career, yet now it failed to regulate her own autonomic responses. Her diaphragm seemed to resist her conscious control, each breath shallow and rapid despite her efforts at modulation.

The examination room's fluorescent lights cast Audrey's flushed skin in stark relief, highlighting the visible pulsation at the base of her throat where her carotid artery throbbed with pharmacologically enhanced force. The ECG monitor continued its frantic beeping, documenting a heart rate of approximately 155 beats per minute—well into the target range for stress testing, though the stimulus had become something far more complex than simple medication.

"You've been wanting this since you first saw me," Audrey continued, her voice steady despite her elevated heart rate. The flush across her freckled chest deepened as the Adenosine reached maximum effect, the capillary dilation creating a vivid landscape of physiological response. "I could see it in your eyes, in the way you watched me move. All the medical language, the research protocol—it was just an excuse to get close to my heart."

The truth of the statement struck Carmella with physical force, weakening her knees as if her quadriceps had suddenly lost innervation. She gripped the edge of the examination table for support, her fingers whitening with pressure against the cold metal. The professional distance she had maintained throughout her career—the careful boundary between clinical interest and personal engagement—dissolved completely under the weight of Audrey's accurate assessment.

Carmella's eyes remained fixed on Audrey's chest, where the effects of the Adenosine created a hypnotic visual display of cardiovascular force. The trainer's heart pounded with such vigor that the movement was clearly visible through skin and muscle—a rhythmic pulsation that created waves across her sternum with each powerful contraction. The freckles that mapped her skin seemed to dance with the beats, creating patterns that Carmella's brain tracked with the same attention she gave to complex cardiac arrhythmias.

The sight was mesmerizing, transcending clinical appreciation to become something primally compelling. Carmella found herself leaning forward unconsciously, reducing the distance between them by approximately twelve centimeters before catching herself. Her glasses slipped slightly down the bridge of her nose, and she made no move to adjust them—her usual meticulous attention to appearance abandoned in the face of overwhelming fascination.

"I can see you fighting with yourself," Audrey observed, her perceptive gaze noting the subtle tells in Carmella's face—the tension at the corners of her mouth, the rapid flutter of her eyelids, the dilation of her pupils to approximately 7mm despite the bright clinical lighting. "The distinguished doctor versus the woman who's been obsessed with my heart. Which one will win?"

The internal battle intensified, Carmella's ethical training waging desperate resistance against the tide of her desire. She had built her reputation on exceptional control—over her practice, her research, her physiological responses—yet that control unraveled with each beep of the monitor, each visible pulsation beneath Audrey's freckled skin. Her professional boundaries, once rigid and uncompromising, now bent like wire under the heat of her fascination.

Somewhere in the analytical portion of her brain, Carmella registered that they had reached the optimal recording period for the Adenosine test. Under normal protocol, she would be documenting waveform changes, measuring cardiac output, calculating ejection fractions. Instead, her clinical mind had surrendered completely to the primal appreciation of Audrey's exceptional heart, beating powerfully before her without the mechanical interpretation of medical instruments.

A tremor developed in Carmella's hands—approximately 9 Hz, visible evidence of her autonomic arousal. Her breathing had synchronized unconsciously with the ECG monitor's beeping, each inhalation coinciding with the electronic confirmation of Audrey's heartbeat. The irony registered dimly—that she, a cardiologist who had spent years interpreting the mechanical translations of cardiac function, now longed for direct, unmediated connection to the living organ itself.

"Just let go," Audrey urged, her voice softening though the intensity of her gaze remained unchanged. "There's no one here but us. No protocols, no professional boundaries. Just you and me and what we both want."

The words penetrated Carmella's final defenses, dissolving the last fragments of her professional resolve. Her breath escaped in a soft sound that might have been surrender or relief, the distinction meaningless in the face of her capitulation. The weight of her desire—carried for days through careful observation and clinical pretense—finally overcame the counterbalance of her professional ethics.

With a movement that felt both inevitable and shocking, Carmella lowered herself to a squatting position before Audrey's chair. Her knees bent with unusual lack of grace, her normally precise movements compromised by the tremor that now extended to her larger muscle groups. Her hands found Audrey's thighs, fingers curling around the perfect musculature with desperate need for stability.

The contact sent another surge of awareness through her nervous system—Audrey's skin warm beneath her palms, the exceptional quadriceps development palpable through her fingertips. Carmella's grip tightened unconsciously, the pressure leaving momentary blanching that quickly refilled with blood as her fingers dug into the firm tissue.

"That's it," Audrey encouraged, her voice dropping to an intimate register that seemed to bypass Carmella's ears and register directly in her nervous system. "Listen to what you've been dreaming about." With a final surrender to her fascination, Carmella leaned forward, her head descending toward Audrey's chest with the inevitability of gravity. Her ear pressed against the warm skin just left of Audrey's sternum—the optimal position for appreciation of mitral valve sounds, a placement she had performed thousands of times with stethoscope diaphragms but never with her own flesh.

The contact was electric, immediate, overwhelming. Audrey's skin felt impossibly warm against Carmella's ear, the temperature differential triggering thermoreceptors with unusual intensity. Beneath this superficial sensation lay what Carmella had truly craved—the unmediated sound of Audrey's exceptional heart, no longer translated through stethoscope tubing but transmitted directly through tissue and bone to her waiting consciousness.

The sound consumed her completely. Carmella's world contracted to a single point of focus—the powerful, rhythmic pounding of Audrey's heart against her ear. The sound was unlike anything she had experienced through the clinical remove of a stethoscope, the intensity unfiltered by rubber tubing and metal diaphragms. This was primal, immediate—the raw force of Audrey's exceptional cardiac muscle transmitted directly through flesh and bone, filling Carmella's consciousness with its perfect rhythm.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she pressed closer, surrendering to the sensation with unprecedented abandon. Each contraction reached her with perfect clarity—the mitral and tricuspid valves closing with the distinctive "lub" of the first heart sound, followed by the sharper "dub" as the aortic and pulmonic valves snapped shut. The intervals between them, the subtle variations in amplitude, the exceptional force of ventricular contraction—all registered with a visceral impact that transcended clinical appreciation.

At approximately 160 beats per minute, Audrey's heart produced a metronomic cadence that seemed to override Carmella's own cardiovascular rhythm. She felt her pulse shifting, synchronizing unconsciously with the powerful beat beneath her ear, their hearts finding alignment despite the different rates. The Adenosine's effects created a cardiovascular symphony more complex than any she had previously documented—increased contractile force, shortened diastolic filling periods, subtle third heart sounds audible during rapid ventricular filling.

"It's beautiful," Carmella whispered, the words vibrating against Audrey's skin. "So strong, so perfect." Her clinical vocabulary had abandoned her, replaced by simpler terms of appreciation that felt strangely adequate for the intensity of her experience.

Her lips parted with each accelerated breath, moisture gathering at their edges as her autonomic arousal manifested in multiple systems simultaneously. The flush that had begun at her cheeks now spread down her neck and beneath her blouse, capillaries dilating across her chest in patterns that mirrored Audrey's drug-induced flush. Her nipples hardened visibly beneath the fabric of her bra and blouse, the sensitive tissue responding to autonomic signals with embarrassing transparency.

Carmella's grip on Audrey's thighs tightened unconsciously, her fingers pressing into the exceptional musculature with force that might have been uncomfortable if not for Audrey's remarkable conditioning. The contact grounded her as the intensity of the auditory experience threatened to overwhelm her nervous system's capacity for integration.

"I knew you needed this," Audrey murmured, her voice a physical presence that Carmella felt through her chest as much as heard with her ears. "The moment I saw you watching me, I knew exactly what you were craving."

Without breaking the connection between Carmella's ear and her chest, Audrey raised her hand, fingers finding Carmella's hair with gentle precision. The touch was tentative at first—a questioning contact that waited for permission. When Carmella responded with a small sound of encouragement, barely audible above the thundering heart between them, Audrey's fingers became more confident, weaving through the strands with appreciative exploration. The caress sent another wave of sensation through Carmella's already overwhelmed nervous system.

Audrey's fingers traced patterns across her scalp, following the contours of her skull with the same anatomical appreciation Carmella had shown for Audrey's exceptional physique. The touch moved lower, tracing the elegant architecture of Carmella's neck, where her pulse visibly raced beneath the skin.

"Your heart is racing too," Audrey observed, her fingers finding the carotid pulse with knowing precision. "Almost as fast as mine, and you haven't had any medication." The observation held a truth that Carmella couldn't deny—her tachycardia was entirely natural, a physiological response to desire that no amount of medical rationalization could disguise. Her pulse throbbed against Audrey's fingertips with betraying honesty, each beat confirming what her professional facade had attempted to conceal.

The contrast between them became suddenly, vividly apparent—Audrey completely naked except for her athletic shoes, every perfect muscle and freckle exposed to the examination room's unforgiving lights; Carmella fully clothed in her professional attire, the formal blouse and slacks creating a boundary that seemed increasingly arbitrary as their connection deepened. The power imbalance implied by their respective states of dress had inverted completely—the naked woman now in absolute control, the clothed professional surrendered to her vulnerability.

Audrey's hands moved with increasing confidence, one remaining at Carmella's neck while the other traced a path across her shoulder and down her spine. Each point of contact sent new information through Carmella's nervous system—pressure receptors, thermoreceptors, proprioceptors all firing in complex patterns that her brain processed as pleasure. Her usual analytical distance had abandoned her completely, leaving her immersed in pure sensation without the buffer of clinical interpretation.

The ECG monitor continued its documentation, the beeping gradually slowing as the Adenosine began to clear Audrey's system. The medication's short half-life meant the pharmacological effects were already beginning to diminish, heart rate decreasing from 160 to approximately 140 beats per minute. Yet Carmella remained transfixed, the gradually slowing rhythm creating a new cadence that her ear tracked with the same entranced attention.

"Stay with me," Audrey murmured, her fingers tightening slightly in Carmella's hair as if sensing her awareness of the changing cardiac pattern. "Listen to how my heart responds to you, not just the medication." The invitation penetrated Carmella's consciousness with unexpected force. Beyond the pharmacological effects, beyond the stressed cardiovascular state she had ostensibly come to study, lay something more significant—the natural response of Audrey's heart to their shared attraction.

As the Adenosine's influence receded, this authentic rhythm emerged with greater clarity, still elevated but now driven by emotional rather than chemical stimulation. Carmella's breathing had synchronized completely with Audrey's, their respiratory patterns falling into perfect harmony despite the differences in their positions. Each inhalation expanded their thoracic cavities in unison, each exhalation released with matched timing. This unconscious alignment created a shared physiological experience that transcended their distinct bodies, binding them through autonomic processes beyond conscious control.

"I never do this," Carmella admitted, the words muffled against Audrey's skin, the vibration of her voice creating another point of intimate connection between them. "With patients, with anyone." "I'm not your patient," Audrey replied, her fingers tracing the sensitive skin behind Carmella's ear with deliberate slowness. "And this isn't an examination anymore. This is something else entirely."

The acknowledgment hung between them, naming the transformation that had occurred in this sterile medical space. What had begun as a thin pretext for professional contact had evolved into an intimacy neither woman had fully anticipated, though both had desired it with increasing awareness since their first encounter. Carmella felt Audrey's heart rate continuing its gradual descent as the medication cleared her system, the powerful muscle returning to a still-elevated but more natural rhythm of approximately 100 beats per minute.

The sound remained captivating, each contraction a perfect demonstration of cardiovascular efficiency, but now with a sustainable intensity that suggested possibility rather than pharmacological manipulation. "The test is technically complete," Carmella noted, though she made no move to lift her head from Audrey's chest. Her ear remained pressed against the warm skin, unwilling to surrender the direct connection even as her clinical mind emerged briefly from its sensory immersion.

"Yes," Audrey agreed, her fingers continuing their exploration of Carmella's hair and neck with unhurried appreciation. "But I think we're just getting started with our own experiments." The statement carried unmistakable invitation, suggesting continuation beyond this initial surrender. Carmella's analytical mind, briefly resurfacing, calculated the implications with surprising clarity despite her compromised state—this moment marked not a conclusion but a beginning, the first data point in what could become a series of increasingly intimate investigations.

Her body responded to this realization with renewed awareness, the pleasant weight in her lower abdomen intensifying as she contemplated future encounters. The professional boundaries that had once seemed so essential to her identity had not merely been crossed but fundamentally redrawn, creating a new territory neither purely clinical nor simply personal, but uniquely theirs to explore.

As the ECG monitor documented Audrey's returning cardiac baseline with electronic precision, Carmella remained connected to the direct source, her ear still pressed to the skin that covered the most fascinating heart she had ever encountered. The rhythmic sound continued to fill her consciousness, but now carried new meaning beyond its physiological significance—it had become the soundtrack to something unprecedented in her carefully controlled existence, something that promised to transform both women with the force of its undeniable attraction.

[chimchimyoonie]

oh to have this pic every race weekend in 2025 🥹🥲

[specialmedicalcentre]

Mitra's Surprise

"We're almost ready, Mitra," Nurse Lan said, adjusting the nasal cannula under her nose. "Do you have any questions before we start?"

Mitra scrunched her nose a bit, trying to get used to the feeling of the tubes in her nostrils. She realized with some awkwardness that she hadn't asked a single question as the nurse was prepping her.

"Actually…I do. Ah, I don't really know what…well, this is all for." Mitra lifted her arms slightly, tubes and wires moving about. She felt like an experiment.

Nurse Lan smiled, discreetly making sure that Mitra didn't pull on her IVs. "Ok, sure - what do you want to know?"

Mitra took a deep breath and looked down at herself, her eyes scanning intently over her body. Sheepishly, she asked, quietly, "…first, I guess…can you tell me again what we're doing?"

"Sure." As she talked, the nurse busied herself checking a nearby vitals monitor, tapping on the screen to enter data. "Your doctor has prescribed a stress test to examine your heart under exercise. Look, it reads here…" Nurse Lan consulted a chart. "…that you may have a slight arrythmia and possible tachycardia. Right?"

Nodding, Mitra said, "…right, ok. I remember that." The doctor visits, the embarrassing exams, and the worried feeling in her stomach were reminders enough. "But…how am I going to exercise with all these - you know, things on me?"

"Well, that's easy - you won't be exercising on the treadmill today - you're going to sit right there. This is a chemical stress test. We'll make your heart work hard, and we'll measure your cardiac performance with these machines. All you have to do is breathe."

She made it sound too easy, Mitra thought. "Okay…well, the…the blood pressure thing." Mitra slightly lifted her right arm for emphasis, finding that the tubes and hoses sort of prevented it. "Why do I have to wear two? And they're…kind of tight."

Nurse Lan leaned over, and placing a hand on Mitra's BP cuff, smiled. "Oh, that's just how we have to do it, Mitra. And you're wearing two cuffs so we can track your pressure closely. They're going to inflate one at a time, and we'll compare them as your heart works hard. You might be uncomfortable at first, but the inflation pressure will even out. Look, I'll start the measurement now. Ready?"

Lan pressed a square on the monitor screen, and the cuff on Mitra's right arm began to tighten, inflating with a buzzing sound. She could hear the velcro straining and popping against the pressure. Instinctively, she held her arm up as it was squeezed.

"Just leave it at your side, honey." Lan gently guided Mitra's arm back into her lap. Mitra was only wearing her panties under her exam gown, and her hand was hot through the fabric; she could feel it on her belly. Absent-mindedly, she checked to see if her breasts were visible through the thin fabric. The cuff squeezed her arm savagely.

"Oww." Mitra said, involuntarily.

"The first time is the hardest." Lan said. Suddently, the cuff stopped inflating. Step by step, it began to release her. The machine clicked each time. After a few clicks, a loud boop sounded, and the cuff went whoosh. "One-twenty five over ninety. Maybe you're a little anxious." Lan wrote something on Mitra's chart.

Mitra flexed her arm to relax it. "When…when does the other one do that?" She motioned to her left arm.

Lan looked at the monitor, squinting. "Every…three minutes, honey."

Mitra looked down at herself again. There were pads stuck to her chest and her shoulders, wires everywhere…and under her gown, too. She could feel them pulling on her breasts. "So…what are these for?" She motioned downward with her chin.

"Those," Lan said, writing some other things on the chart, "are to measure your heartbeat. They're for an EKG. Ever have that done?"

Mitra shook her head. "No, no I haven't."

Lan nodded. "Well, each time your heart beats, we can see the electrical activity here." She motioned to the screen. With a final tap, Lan brought up Mitra's EKG, and a shrill beeping began, accompanied by a bouncing green line on the screen. Three lines, in fact. "These are your EKG traces. We can see all kinds of things…arrythmia, heartrate, cardiac muscle activity…"

The beeping was irregular: sometimes fast, sometimes slow. A green number glowed beside the traces, hovering around 77..78..76.

Lan followed Mitra's eyes. "That's your heartrate, honey. We're going to get that good and fast during the stress test." Lan checked her watch. "We're all set, Mitra. Do you have any more questions?"

Mitra stared at the screen, watching and feeling her heart beat. Her left BP cuff began an inflation cycle, jarring her out of her reverie. Three minutes gone, she thought. She watched the magenta BP numbers counting up on the screen. "No more questions, I guess…wait."

Lan was busy preparing something, her back to Mitra. "What's that, honey?" She responded without turning.

"…um. How is my heart going to work hard without exercise, again?" Mitra asked.

"Oh, we'll handle that." Lan said. She turned to Mitra, holding a large syringe full of a milky yellow fluid. "Remember, this is a chemical stress test."

Mitra's eyes went wide. Her BP cuff squeezed her tightly; she could hear her heart rate begin to speed up already.

Lan continued. "This medication will stimulate your heart; I'm going to inject it into your IV now. Ok, Mitra, here we go."

=====

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[glarcresearch]

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[dearcervus]

i’ve never had a blood test before because it’s been a huge fear of mine forever (it’s finger prick anon from earlier that probably explains it lol)

and I know that’s not good bc getting regular checks is important, but it’s just so damn terrifying to me! i need help >.<

- 🌟 anon (if not already taken)

Oh my poor sweet darling… I’m sure it’s a bit scary after all that, I don’t blame you at all sweetheart. I get blood tests done all the time due to my chronic illness and I promise it’s not so bad, it’s more uncomfortable than it is painful, just a small little pinch, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about I assure you. But if you’re really worried I’d recommend bringing a friend or at the very least a stuffed animal with you (bonus points if it’s a weighted one), it can really help to hold something or have a distraction if you’re scared. Even being on your phone and listening to or reading something can take your mind off it quite a bit. I know it’s hard, but you’re very brave and I believe in you, it’s okay if it takes a bit of time to work up the courage to do these things.🖤

Medical kink can also help ease these fears, and it’s something that’s helped me in the past, but it doesn’t work for everyone. But sometimes just acting out these fears in a way that feels safe and comfortable can make the real thing feel a lot less daunting 🖤

[brutal-nemesis]

playing with my dolls in my head

bonus pre-captivity Xavier his shirt says dumbass and it's right

picrew | Masterlist

[umbrellamedic]

❝ what the fuck are you on ? what the fuck are you on ? ❞ from Nikolai

The words filter into Bertha's consciousness, but it's a jumble her brain has to decode. Behind her mask her eyes are wide and unable to settle on any single object, pupils blown wide enough to almost completely drown out the cornflower blue of her eyes. There's a fine trembling in her limbs, a need to keep moving despite no longer having anywhere to go. Buzzing along the edges of her attention are the nagging discomforts that normally precede deep bruising; some other distant part of her is aware that things are worse than just bruises, but she isn't sure how bad. She feels nauseous.

"Experimental-" It's the first thing she can think to say. Her fingers are twitching. Her breathes are too fast, too shallow. Jittery, angry electricity dances along her nervous system. She can taste pennies. Her tongue feels too big for her mouth and her jaw hurts. Talking takes more concentration than it should.

Several hours ago came a rush of activity among the USS- a possible corporate leak that needed to be plugged. Normally a field medic volunteering without an actual squad surrounding them would be laughed off the proverbial table, but Bertha's eagerness is seconded by the researcher she's been working with. This is the perfect time to test the combat aid they've been developing.

A couple hours ago Bertha was in a transport with two others- both from Alpha squad, but neither are their famous leader. Neither seem too happy to have a medic with them, as if she is less qualified. It's offensive, but the German can save insults for after the mission, after she's proven their doubts wrong. Along with her usual supplies is a small injector gun with three doses. One for each of them. She isn't sure if the other two are aware of this test. She doesn't much care.

Half an hour ago they're out of the transport. They're shooting and being shot at. Bertha begins the field test of the new Painkiller, and everything blurs together; flashes of events in slow motion. She isn't sure if one or both of her companions survive the effects of the Painkiller. Or did they die from gunshot? Hopefully their bodies will be retrieved for study.

In the present, the rush is washed out of Bertha in flood of exhaustion. Her head hurts. Her brows furrow behind her mask. She recognizes this man; it's still harder to think than she would like. Piecing things together is too much work. She's grasping for straws. "No one mentioned this was joint with the UBCS." It makes sense in a strange kind of way. She justifies it as backup for this mission. In case the Painkiller compromised things too much. Umbrella being careful.

"Permission to pass out?" Bertha doesn't wait for an answer before crumpling to the ground. The formula needs tweaking.

[shubaka]

okay, so, potential he she it and ingredients crossover or whatever that i may never write

scenario one:

mike and win are actually the same person -- he's going by win now because he wants to leave his old life behind (his dad is out of the picture - it's just him and mom and his brother now, which is why he feels safer exploring his sexuality openly). when he first meets tops, he feels like he's being haunted by peem again, but after getting to know tops more and more, he realizes that his guilt is just making the similarities between tops and peem's looks getting to him. he starts noticing the differences as he gets to know tops more et cetera et cetera et cetera

scenario two:

mike and win are twins. when mike and his mother visit and have dinner at win and tops' place he gets so shaken up. he'd been keeping the whole thing with peem bottled up inside and never talked about it, just pulling away from everyone and isolating himself, so he kind of breaks down crying in front of win and tops and things happen. (poly mikewintops jeffcest is of course an endgame option lmao)

[shevr]

beating my high score

[bitchfitch]

I am once again begging on my hands and knees for game recommendations.

My mother wants to start playing online games with me, and she's Specifically wanting one I Have Not played and don't know we'll. The issue is there's a total overlap between 'games I like to play while half dead' and 'games my mother wouldn't be frustrated by'

Requirement

must be online multiplayer, preferably co op with Extremely minimal or no competitiveness.

must be able to run on a Kinda Shit 6 year old laptop.

Ideally it should Not be campaign or level focused, open world's and sand box games are Very much preferred. Rogue likes are also welcome.

This is a less important one but it would be nice: Stylized or simple graphics with big recognizable shapes are a lot easier on my brand of blindness than realism. it's less important bc... even completely blind I tend to be a better gamer than my dear mother.

Games that are perfect but which I have been playing for too many years:

Minecraft, Stardew Valley, Don't starve.

[glarcresearch]

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