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#Drug Detection
creativeera · 1 month
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Drug Screening: Ensuring a Safe and Productive Work Environment
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Types of Tests There are several different types of drug screening tests that are commonly used by employers to detect illegal drug use among employees and job applicants. The most common types include urine drug tests, hair drug tests, saliva drug tests, and breathalyzer tests. Urine Drug Tests Urine drug testing is the most widely used method for workplace drug screening. It can detect drug use within the past few days by identifying drug metabolites in urine. The turnaround time for urine drug test results is usually 1-3 business days. Employers prefer urine tests because collection can be monitored to prevent tampering with samples. However, urine tests only provide a snapshot of recent drug use and cannot detect drugs used further in the past. Hair Drug Tests Hair drug testing provides a longer detection window than urine tests since it can detect drug use going back months rather than just days. When a person uses drugs, metabolites from the drugs enter the bloodstream and deposit in growing hair follicles. Sections of hair are collected and tested to detect these drug metabolites. Hair tests are more difficult to tamper with than urine but cannot detect very recent drug use like urine or saliva tests can. Saliva Drug Tests Saliva (oral fluid) Drug Screening drug testing detects drug use within the last few days, similar to urine testing. A small sample of saliva is collected, usually via a swab that is placed under the tongue. Saliva testing is less invasive than other options and provides almost immediate results. However, saliva drug tests may have a slightly shorter detection window than urine tests for some drugs. Breathalyzer Tests Breathalyzer tests are used to detect recent alcohol consumption by measuring a person's blood alcohol concentration (BAC) through a breath sample. They provide results within minutes. Breathalyzers are commonly used for random alcohol screening in safety-sensitive workplaces and to screen for possible impairment due to recent alcohol use. However, they cannot detect long-term problematic drinking patterns like other drug tests. Implementing an Effective Drug Screening Program When establishing a workplace drug screening program, employers should consider factors like their needs, budget, and applicable laws and regulations. Programs typically involve pre-employment drug testing of job applicants, random testing of current employees, as well as testing based on reasonable suspicion of drug use. Employers must have clear, written anti-drug use policies that outline prohibited substances, testing procedures, confidentiality practices, and consequences for positive tests. Providing education about these policies helps ensure employees understand rules and available support resources. Chain of custody procedures should be followed to maintain integrity of all collected samples and test results.
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the fact that Edwin lived in the early 1900s is a fantastic source of comedic potential. he's just constantly saying things that he doesn't realise are completely batshit insane, and the others are just left utterly floored.
like they're all talking and Crystal mentions she's tried cocaine once on a wild night out, and Edwin, who used to get that shit medically prescribed at the drop of a hat is like ??? okay?? hope you felt better, it always used to help me when I had a cold too :) Charles why are you laughing?
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simplyforensic · 11 months
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Detecting Drug Exposure Long After the Fact: A Revolutionary Breakthrough
Drug abuse and involuntary drug exposure have significant consequences for individuals and society as a whole. In many cases, it becomes crucial to detect drug exposure even when traditional urine or blood tests fall short. This necessity arises when investigating drug-facilitated crimes, ensuring compliance with probation and parole, or monitoring individuals participating in addiction…
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nando161mando · 1 year
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OPINION | The use of sniffer dogs at train stations is a "cynical display of force by Victoria Police", writes @whatsdoinmedia. Not only are these operations ineffective and invasive, but they undermine the government's efforts to reduce drug-related harm.
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fluffyartbl0g · 1 year
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Everytime I go into the Zosopp tag, I just see people SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING about the lack of posts IN the Zosopp tag. THE ZOSOPP ECONOMY IS IN SHAMBLES
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"Probably because they don't have a grave," Danny said, pulling out his vape. "Final resting places are--HEY!"
Nightwing held the pilfered vape above his head. "Where did you get this?" he asked, scandalized.
Danny jumped for it, but Nightwing was too tall! Even at 5'7 he'd have to use his powers to reach the vape; he had no chance as a 9 year old. "We're in Gotham! You're lucky I didn't get cocaine instead!"
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kugisakiss · 1 year
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Au where Conan is a weed dealer. Cue him sitting inside Kogoro's office and laughing calmly with bloodshot, red eyes while smoking.
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taking down the B.O. the "normal" way is taking too long. Conan and Haibara are going to build a criminal empire so large it will chase them out of business and they're going to start it by selling meth without getting caught because who would even suspect them?
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Edwin: Did you ruin my chalkboard? It's all messed up
Charles, wiping his hands: No...
Edwin: What's that on your pants? The powdery stuff?
Charles, panicking: Cocaine
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wyrmwright · 7 months
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ruby ruby ruby
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cfserkgk · 5 months
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I don't know, I think Maomao and Haibara would be friends (ft. modern AU Maomao).
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the-sprog · 4 months
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Ai: "it seems like you and Kuroba-kun are cousins."
Shinichi&Kaito: "WHAT?!"
Kaito: "WHAT OTHER THINGS HAS MY DAD BEEN KEEPING SECRET FROM ME? WHAT THE FUCK?"
Shinichi: "No, actually, thinking about it, this is exactly the kind of thing my father would keep secret from me."
Kaito: "... I'm kinda worried about your upbringing right now. And coming from me? That's saying something."
Shinichi: "I'm 16 and I know what cocaine tastes like. You do the math."
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t4tadrienette · 2 months
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Parents of the year
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surplus-of-sarcasm · 2 months
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Mind Games
New story who diiisss. Anyway, thank you to @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 for the whole idea of this story! Hero x detective for a twist.
TW: Blood, stabbing, knife, mentioned murder, kidnapping, restraints, blindfold, mentioned drugging, male whump
Waking up blindfolded and bound to a chair wasn't exactly a novelty for the hero, but that didn't make it any less irritating. There was something about the forced ignorance a blindfold subjected you to that got on the hero's nerves and blew fuses in his brain.
The patter of footsteps on a parquet floor rang in the hero's ears, and he could already sense his mystery assailant get near him and flick him on the head like a disobedient child.
"You up, sunshine?" Detective's sharp voice called out.
The rough grunt he gave seemed to be enough of a response, and the detective removed the blindfold from around his head.
The light seemed to assault his eyes, too bright and cold and violent, and the hero let out a soft cuss. "Do you make a habit out of kidnapping people and tying them up in your basement, detective?" he questioned irritably, his eyes half-screwed shut.
The detective, immaculate as ever, wearing a goddamn three-piece suit in his own house, gave out a soft, but unsettling laugh, leaving his lips in a tight smile that was all teeth. "No, Hero. But you already know why you're here, don't you? Because I know you think playing dumb might save you, but I'm here to tell you it won't," he growled, baring his teeth.
The detective was never a particularly pleasant human being, dryer than a desert more often than not, but he was always calm, like no problem in the world could even sour his mood. So to see him already lash out, even this slightly told the hero that even with him tied up and possibly drugged with how groggy he was feeling, the detective probably saw him as a threat.
Shame he'd have to play another set of cards to win the game.
"Alright," the hero said calmly, fixing the other man with a piercing look, "if we're agreeing neither of us is here to screw around, then how about you cut to the chase. You don't seem like the 'pace and around the room and monologue' type of guy," he reasoned, an easy smile on his face.
Maybe he wasn't feigning oblivion anymore, but he wasn't giving the detective the satisfaction of feeling like he was scaring him.
The detective made a scoffing noise, reaching into his pocket to pull out a switchblade. "Maybe you'll learn to smile less at the wrong times, asshole," he spat as he unfurled the blade, looking eerily calm, nothing behind the whirpools of black that were his eyes.
"You're going to talk. Answer all my questions properly. And if you don't, I think even you are not dumb enough to not be able to guess what's going to happen."
The knife really didn't faze the hero the way it should. Sure, it left him uneasy, sharp and disturbingly pristine. But he'd been roughed up before one too many times, so he knew to some extent how this stuff worked.
The hardest part was selling his act.
"How did you find out it was me?" the detective started, pulling up another chair and carelessly throwing one leg over the other.
"I'm good at what I do," the hero shrugged, his face blank. But he couldn't help wincing as the detective grazed his thigh with the knife, his body already tormented enough with his ridiculously cramped muscles.
Nothing he couldn't handle, anyway.
"The evidence. What lead you to me?" Detective tried again, the blade still in his hand with Hero's fresh blood snaking down it.
"Does it matter? I figured you out anyways," the hero supplied listlessly, his gaze languid and half-lidded.
The detective stabbed harder this time, twisting the knife in the hero's shoulder and forcing a snarl out of him. He truly wasn't sure for how long he could keep playing the defiant card, the pain blooming across his shoulder and even down to his arm as the detective snatched the knife out just as fast as he'd put it in.
If he could incinerate the detective by staring at him wrong, he seriously would've. Instead he grit his teeth and tried to ignore his throbbing shoulder, looking up at the detective, irritated.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't slit your throat right now." The detective's voice seemed a little too relaxed for comfort, the dirty switchblade now resting on the hero's jugular. The hero was no longer even slightly surprised the other man was a criminal.
It took an insurmountable amount of self-restraint to keep his lips from curving into a self-satisfied grin. Sure, it wasn't very believable if an agency-trained hero crumbled under a few stabs, but death was a reasonable enough fear for even someone as formidable as him. Nevermind that the wide eyes and the harsh bite of the lips were actually fake.
"W-wait. There's no point of you killing me. Not without finding out what you need to know. And do you really need anymore blood on your hands?" the hero breathed out, a little desperation sprinkled into his tone.
The detective looked almost lost in thought, until something wicked burned a fire in his eyes for just a moment. "You only get one chance, Hero. Don't waste it," he drawled lazily, pulling the knife away and twirling it elegantly with one hand.
The hero nodded gratefully, readying himself to lie through his teeth. "When you said the victim had died of asphyxiation, even before you were granted access to the autopsy report."
The detective's brow furrowed and his lips were pulled into a tight frown. "I never said he died of asphyxiation, he died of mercury poisoning."
"Bingo," the hero, his hands now free of their bonds, crooned, as he used the detective's momentary surprise as a distraction, pulling the knife out of his hand and using it to cut through the ropes around his legs.
Say something wrong about a subject and your target will rush to correct you. A surprisingly effective trick as the hero had come to learn.
The detective's face twisted into an expression of pure, unbridled fury as he tried to wrench the knife out of the hero's hand, but he dodged, quick on his feet much to the other man's chagrin.
Hero had to give him credit, the man was almost nearly impossible to stab, parrying the crime-fighter's attacks with calm, stable, maybe even clever moves, so much so that all he'd managed to do was lightly nick him with the blade.
But with all his focus on blocking, he hadn't even noticed that all the hero's fighting had backed him into a corner until too late, until thr crime-stopper's leg had slammed him into the wall with a painful kick, and the knife's cold edge had bit into his skin.
"Don't. Move."
The detective was breathing hard, practically paralysed by the knife and the glint of warning in his enemy's eyes. His face burned with the shame and humiliation of being frozen in place, his own weapon at his neck.
"How d-did. . .you find out it was me?" the detective panted, voice desperate.
It was the hero's turn to smile wickedly. "On the day of the victim's death, he got a visit from his doctor. I searched the trash and found a broken thermometer. It was pretty clear from the bruising on the poor bastard's face the killer was left-handed. The doctor you paid off that I interviewed was right-handed. To test out my theory, I told the doctor I was taking him to prison for the murder, and his tongue might've just slipped too much for your hush money to fix it."
And with that, the hero knocked him out with a punch to the jaw, dragging the other's body and praying desperately the adrenaline would keep the pain in his shoulder at bay until he got out of here at least.
Some trails are shadowy and unclear, obscuring the vision and playing tricks on the mind. But the smallest amount of resilience can very well go a long way, if only you learn to time your moves right. Because even if you only get a short string, you can still sew a mark on the tapestry of your fate.
Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @adamswrongchild @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth @dragonmine-24 @detectivepetrichor @orangeduckweed @red-is-the-reputation4444 @alexii117 @prophecies-bestowed-upon-ye @alphabet-egg
Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!
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mokulule · 1 year
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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 6
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5
Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence
Bruce sighed, absently feeling the air on his hands folded in front of his face. He stared unseeingly ahead. His frowned deeply, at a loss of what to do. Worry picked at his self control.
Something was up with Jason. Ever since the other night, something had happened between the thief and Jason. It had left him unsettled and off balance, that much was obvious. They’d all been able to see it.
Now, today, Jason had lost control. He’d been agitated of course, but Bruce hadn’t expected the outburst. Jason was usually good at managing his anger these days, at least in the family. He didn’t get physical with them anymore in anger. Except today Jason had suddenly pulled him up by the shirt, and Bruce had honestly expected him to punch him. Jason had shaken it off, but then he’d fled.
The urge to move, to do something, itched at him. He wanted to get answers, but confronting Jason was out of the question. Their truce was fragile, and it seemed every time he spoke to Jason he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know what to do except control the urge to go after his son. He couldn’t fight his demons for him. He could only try not to make it worse.
And so he sat there, staring, unseeing.
Dick’s footsteps, came down the stairs, easily recognizable: light and almost dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, skipping a step every now and then.
“Hey B, thought you were going golfing with the mayor, keeping up the old appearances and all that” he greeted brightly, as ever immune to Bruce’s mood. Or maybe Alfred sent him down to deal with him, that was also an option.
“Oh I love these,” Dick reached forward over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a protein bar from the backpack. He opened it and started to eat it without hesitation.
“Dick,” Bruce sighed, “this is evidence.”
Dick snorted and leaned on the console so he could look at Bruce. “You’re serious.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
Dick snorted again, of course Bruce was serious, then he pulled the backpack over and started rooting through it. Much to Bruce’s exasperation he opened another protein bar.
“Dick, they could be drugged.”
“As if you’d have let me take the first one if that was the case,” Dick mumbled around the mouthful of granola. Bruce mentally conceded the point.
“Anyways,” Dick swallowed and continued, reading the name tag on the inside of the backpack, “Danny Fenton, who’s that?”
Bruce sighed.
“The thief.”
“The Ghost!?” Dick looked up in excitement, “so we have a name now?”
“Presumably, it may not originally have been his backpack.”
“True, doesn’t help much either does it? Danny is very common and Fenton may not be Johnson, but it’s not exactly unique.”
“I haven’t looked it up yet.”
Dick narrowed his eyes.
“This has anything to do with why you’re brooding?”
Silence stretched between them, but Dick could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to. There was no point in dragging things out, it wasn’t a secret, Dick could easily find out through the surveillance if he wanted, Bruce would rather he didn’t.
“Jason was the one who delivered the backpack.”
“Ah.” There was the worried frown Bruce would have liked to avoid. He leaned down a bit to better face Bruce.
“You had a fight?” The question was posed carefully, softly, not betraying any inkling what he thought of that, in a way to gently pry the answer from Bruce, but Bruce knew his eldest son well enough to know he was already mentally running damage control options. That was Dick, always trying to keep their family together tooth and nail. There was a soft pang of appreciation in his chest he couldn’t articulate, instead he focused on the problem at hand.
“He’s convinced the thief needs help, I don’t actually disagree.”
Dick sat back in realization, his eyes flickered to the backpack and its sorry spoils.
“But he could still be working for someone,” Dick recited with a sigh, it was an old lesson. One he knew Jason wouldn’t have appreciated, not if he felt Bruce was dismissing his concerns. “B.”
“I know.”
Do you? Dick’s eyebrows asked, but he had the grace not to actually say it. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder instead, squeezing slightly.
“He’ll warm back up.”
“You think so?” He asked unable to look up at Dick.
“Hey,” Dick said brightly in a way that naturally drew attention to him, “we’ve come back from worse.” And there was that bright smile and that pang of appreciation was back, along with another warm feeling in his chest: hope.
“Well, I gotta get going, I’ve got work tomorrow. Just gotta grab a few more of these.”
And the feeling was gone.
“Dick.”
“We shouldn’t waste perfectly good food, B, also they’re W-Mark exclusives, they don’t have them in Blüdhaven.” He grinned, pockets stuffed with contraband. Invariably reminding Bruce of a younger version with pockets full of candy he’d been denied. Brat already knew he had won. Bruce waved him off with a sigh.
Dick practically skipped towards the stairs. Then he paused.
“Oh and B, if I was you, I’d check the phone at the bottom of the bag. It’s not a brand I recognize.”
With that he was off.
Bruce stared after him. Pride warred with annoyance. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Dick checking out the bag more thoroughly than the cursory look he himself had done when Jason had handed it to him.
He grabbed the bag and rooted around a bit, and just as Dick had said, there was a phone.
He pulled it out, and turned it over in his hands. It was made from dark blue plastic. The logo on the back, a stylized V in front of a globe, wasn’t one he recognized. It looked old and scuffed, had actual buttons and a jarringly small screen when you were used to modern smartphones.
It was also out of power.
With how old it looked, it was unlikely cordless charging was an option. He looked at the bottom edge where there was an actual mini headphone jack, along with what he assumed was the charging port - it wasn’t a type he recognized.
He frowned and got up. He wouldn’t be too late for his meeting with the mayor if he left now, not something he couldn’t brush off as eccentric forgetfulness at least.
He could drop the phone off at Tim’s on the way. Tim would get the phone working one way or another.
Oo o oO
Danny stayed underneath the pavement long after the not-ghost had left. The feeling of almost giving in was a crawling like ants underneath his skin. The threat of almost capture was like a noose around his neck - if they captured him, if they managed to contain him, he would never get home.
Eventually the bone deep tiredness of using his powers too much hit him, and he dragged himself back to his haunt, invisibly and intangibly, because he’d had much too much excitement today. He was raw and empty inside when he dropped onto his blanket pile and rolled up. He would get food some other day. Never mind that he was completely out. It wouldn’t end his existence, just weaken him. Ghosts at the core ran on willpower, and Danny wanted to go home.
A small squeak and rustle, had him opening his eyes a crack and turning his head to look to the far side of the room. There the rat was going his trash, the packaging probably still smelled like food.
He huffed and closed his eyes again. If he got truly desperate he could always eat the rat - It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d eaten.
next
Masterpost for subscription
Sorry, it's not the longest part this time, but we got to appreciate a few other characters, yay! Hope you enjoyed, cause Danny sure isn't enjoying himself.
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ohfandomfuntime · 2 years
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slutpoppers · 9 days
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Meitantei Conan.
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