#Gas alarm system

[pioneer-marine-service]

Top Medical Oxygen Equipment & Portable Oxygen Systems UAE

In medical and emergency settings, the importance of reliable oxygen supply cannot be overstated. Oxygen cylinders, oxygen regulators, and medical oxygen are essential components for ensuring that patients and individuals receive the necessary respiratory support.

Oxygen Cylinders serve as portable and efficient storage solutions for medical oxygen. These cylinders are designed to provide a steady flow of oxygen for various medical conditions and emergency situations. They come in various sizes to suit different needs, from small, personal use cylinders to larger units for more extensive requirements.

Oxygen Regulators are crucial for controlling the flow of oxygen from the cylinder to the patient. These devices ensure that the oxygen is delivered at a consistent and safe pressure, tailored to the individual's medical needs. Proper regulation is essential for effective treatment and avoiding potential complications.

Medical Oxygen itself is a vital resource in healthcare, used to treat patients with respiratory issues, support during surgeries, and assist in emergency care. It is essential for conditions like chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), asthma, and during recovery from severe illnesses or surgeries.

Combining reliable oxygen cylinders with precise oxygen regulators ensures a consistent and safe supply of medical oxygen. Regular maintenance and proper handling of these components are key to their effectiveness. For optimal performance and safety, always consult with healthcare professionals and follow proper guidelines for usage and maintenance.

[reasonsforhope]

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

[johnypage95]

LPG contractor in Dubai:-

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[pattonsmedical-blog]

How Medical Vacuum Pumps are used in Healthcare Industry

Medical vacuum pumps in healthcare to provide suction used in the operating rooms, intensive care units and various other clinical uses throughout a facility.

[larryandersonthings]

Top Benefits of Installing Fire Alarm Systems in Bluffton, SC and Richmond Hill, Georgia

Fire hazards are common issues in many parts of the US. When fire strikes, life becomes challenging. If not controlled on time, fire can engulf everything, including important documents and valuables. Having suitable fire alarms inside and out can be of great help.

Due to the surge in fire incidents, many homeowners and business owners are investing in fire alarms to protect their properties. All that one has to do is find the right company specializing in alarm systems in Bluffton, SC, and Richmond Hill, Georgia.

Importance of Fire Alarm Systems

Fire alarm systems play a crucial role in ensuring the safety and security of both residential and commercial properties. These systems are designed to detect the presence of fire or smoke and send out immediate alerts to help extinguish the fire or evacuate people from the premises. Let's take a closer look at the benefits of having fire alarm systems installed on the property:

1. Secure Property Against Risks

One of the primary reasons homeowners need fire alarms is to protect their property against fire risks. Fire alarms provide early detection, allowing residents or business owners to take immediate action and prevent a small fire from turning into a devastating inferno. With a reliable fire alarm system in place, homeowners can have peace of mind, knowing that they have taken proactive measures to safeguard their property and loved ones.

2. Testing and Maintenance

Regular testing and maintenance of fire alarm systems are essential to ensure their effectiveness. Homeowners can schedule routine inspections by professionals to check if the alarms function correctly. This proactive approach helps promptly identify any issues or malfunctions, allowing for timely repairs or replacements. Regular maintenance also minimizes the chances of false alarms, ensuring that the fire alarm system will respond accurately in an emergency.

3. Reduced Response Time Means Less Damage

Time is of the essence when it comes to handling fire emergencies. Fire alarm systems significantly reduce response time by immediately alerting the occupants and authorities in case of a fire outbreak. This quick response can mean the difference between containing the fire or experiencing extensive damage. With a reliable fire alarm system, firefighters can be on their way to the property within minutes, increasing the chances of minimizing the destruction caused by a fire.

4. Peace of Mind and Insurance Benefits

A fire alarm system in Bluffton, SC, and Richmond Hill, Georgia, provides homeowners with peace of mind, knowing they have taken proactive steps to protect their property and loved ones. Additionally, installing fire alarms can also lead to insurance benefits. Many insurance companies offer discounts to homeowners who have fire alarm systems installed. By investing in a fire alarm system, homeowners ensure their property's safety and potentially save on insurance premiums.

Investing in a security alarm system, specifically fire alarms, is crucial for homeowners in Jacksonville and Jacksonville Beach, Florida. These alarm systems provide early detection, secure properties against fire risks, and reduce response time, minimizing damage in case of a fire outbreak. Regular testing and maintenance ensure the effectiveness of these systems, and homeowners can enjoy peace of mind while saving on insurance premiums. It is better not to wait for a fire emergency; take proactive measures to protect property and loved ones by installing a reliable fire alarm system today.

[orustechnologiespvtltd]

Fire Detection And Protection System

we offer comprehensive fire detection and protection systems, including fire suppression systems and sprinkler systems. Our expertise extends to fire protection maintenance and the installation of fire safety sprinkler systems.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Hello! I’ve always been curious about the “human in a space shuttle somehow ends up on a cybertronian ship and all the bots are trying to figure out what this random metal this is while the human is terrified” plot.

It would be interesting to see it played out with any character, but for the sake of direction, I’d like to request this with the Lost Light Crew?

It could be vore if that’s what you feel like wrong at the time, but I’d also go for some good ‘ol fearplay.

I apologize if this is too vague, have a good day/night and I love your writing!

Thank you for the request Glitch! I hope this is up to your expectations! I hope you don't mind that I picked specific members of the Lost Light crew to include in this story. Feedback is always appreciated! Have a great day/night as well! :D

Doctor’s (And Scientist’s) Orders

Pairing: IDW Ratchet, IDW Perceptor, and IDW First Aid x Human Reader

Word Count: 3115

Summary: You are a teacher who is being sent from Earth to a colony on Mars. A new life as an educator for the red planet’s children is on your horizon…until you are thrown terribly off course and end up in the bowels of the Lost Light. All seems lost for you when you find yourself injured and cut off from human society, at the mercy of the three Cybertronians who end up finding you and taking you in, whether you want them to or not.

The first thing you hear when you come to is the horrid screeching of your ship's alarms.

  You groan and sit up. Smoke and flickering emergency lights greet you when you open your eyes. Electricity sparks from the stasis tank you were asleep in. Gas spurts from the ceiling, and everything is strewn about with the chaotic air of a tornado that just tore through an entire town.

“Warning,” your ship’s AI urgently alerts. “Breach detected. Damage is collateral. Warning-warning-” It sputters and fizzles out.

  You rub the back of your head and feel something warm and sticky coat your palm. When you pull your hand back to take a closer look, you see blood.

  Shit. That’s not good.

  Standing up makes you feel like you are going to puke. Your head throbs and every breath you take sends piercing pain through your chest. Dragging yourself out of the stasis pod takes longer than it should while black spots dot your vision as you stumble to the dashboard and press your hands against it. “Run ship diagnostics,” you manage to rasp. The voice that struggles to exit your mouth is one you hardly recognize. It is thin and strewn with violent coughs. A metallic taste coats your tongue. More blood.

  The AI glitches as it attempts to answer you. “Severe damage to hull. Severe damage to engines. Severe damage to thrusters. Life support online, but rapidly depleting. Escape pod offline.”

  “Shit,” you breathe. “Try contacting Earth control.”

  “Communications systems offline. Attempting self-repairs. Current status…5%.”

  “How long until repairs are complete?”

  “Estimations indicate repairs will be completed in…5 days.”

  Not good. Not good at all. You push yourself away from the dashboard and take in all that has happened. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. When you were chosen to be sent to Earth’s Mars colony as a teacher for the young children growing up on the red planet, you thought it would be a smooth seven month trip with you peacefully slumbering away in stasis. You were supposed to be woken up by fellow human beings, not a devastating crash resulting in your ship being decimated. Something must have thrown you off course. A freak asteroid strike probably. Which begs the question…where exactly are you?

  Ignoring how much pain you are in, you hobble through the remains of the vessel and head for the airlock doors. They remain tightly shut when you make it to them, hiding the knowledge of where you are from view. “Open the doors,” you call out to the ship.

  “Warning. Remaining onboard is strongly recommended. Current exterior environment is unknown.”

  “Override. Open the doors.”

  The doors whoosh apart. You know there’s oxygen outside. If there hadn’t been, the ship would have prevented you from even entering the airlock chamber in the first place. Stepping off, you expect to see the barren landscape of Mars, or the alien environment of some other planet you might have ended up on. Part of you thinks you might still be on Earth; perhaps something went wrong with the ship before you could even break the Troposphere.

  What you see surprises you. You are in some sort of…massive cargo hold.

  Gigantic metal crates surround you, most of them exuding a pinkish glow. There are lights on the ceiling far above you, but they are dim, and serve little aid in giving you an estimate of just how large this place is. Turning in a circle, you feel awe fill you. “Yeah,” you murmur to yourself. “The ship definitely didn’t crash on Mars.”

  Speaking of your ship…you take in the damage. It's an absolute mess of warped, crippled metal doomed to remain collapsed on its side until self-repairs are complete. It would take days, maybe even weeks, for damage of this caliber to be fixed beyond the communications systems. With no way to contact Earth or Mars, you truly are stuck.

  You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Calm. You are calm. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, your ship is destroyed. Yes, you are suffering from critical wounds. Yes, you are in an unknown place with seemingly no way out. But you're alive. That’s what matters. And now you just have to survive for five more days.

  You hear thumping in the distance.

  It takes you a moment to register the pattern of heavy steps that are coming towards you. It’s something alive, you realize with dawning horror. Wherever you are, you have obviously made quite a racket, and now this planet’s local faunal residents are going to seek you out. There’s no way for you to know exactly what sorts of animals live here; any technology you might have used to your advantage is directly connected to the ship. With the ship offline, thus go the tools as well. You are completely in the dark, relying only on the little information about alien lifeforms you have to keep you safe.

  You don’t need that information to know you have to hide right now.

  You scurry back into the ship, biting back a shout of pain. God, there’s pain everywhere. How have you not passed out yet? Adrenaline does wonders for the human body, you sourly think to yourself when you have to lean against the wall to catch your breath. A hacking cough swells within your chest. When you cover your mouth with your elbow and release it, blood is splattered over your suit sleeve.

  That’s when you hear the growling.

  It’s unlike anything you have ever heard before. You’ve studied a multitude of animals. You’ve heard big cats roar, wolves howl, hyenas cackle, and birds screech. This is not a growl you can associate with any of those. It…holds similar qualities. But there’s something about it that remains blatantly off.

  It sounds strangely like the growl of a machine.

  You look outside of the airlock doors, and something huge lumbers out from behind a stack of crates. The first things your brain registers are its red and white armor platings, its bright blue eyes, and the horn-like finials extending from its forehead. It’s humanoid, yet possesses qualities that remove it from any such grouping. This thing is definitely not like you in any sort of way beyond having a face and walking on two legs.

  “It’s…a robot,” you whisper. It’s a giant fucking robot moving all on its own, and looking none too happy to be here.

  The mechanical creature snarls, lips upturning to reveal sharp canines that are probably longer than your arms. It hasn’t noticed you yet. Its focus is trained on the datapad it holds in its hands. Your mind is blown. This is obviously a member of a clearly intelligent race. Have you just discovered a new extraterrestrial species?

  The robot looks up. At first, its eyes scan the crates around you, and it doesn't seem to notice the little ship nestled between them. You remain still, prey instinct taking its course and demanding you freeze where you are. Hopefully it will just move on…

  It backtracks, and to your utter horror, it makes direct eye contact with you.

  Fucking shit, you think.

  The robot stares at you with an expression of pure shock. You stare right back with an equal amount of terror.

  It steps towards you. That’s all it takes for you to scream at the ship. “Close the airlock doors! Close them now!”

  The doors slam shut. You hear a shout from the robot, and everything shakes as it thunders forward. You stumble and fall with agony ripping through your poor body when you make contact with the floor. The cry that leaves you is riddled with pain.

  “A-Activate self-defense protocol!” you order the ship.

  “Self-defense protocols offline,” it says back.

  “Well, how long until they are online?!”

  “Estimated time equals…ten hours.”

  “That’s not enough!” you scream rawly.

  A gentle tapping echos from the other side of the doors.

  You push yourself back, heart pounding as you listen to the robot move all around you. It’s growling softly to itself, and you can hear it touching the ship, running massive mechanical fingers across the walls that act as the only barrier between you and potential doom.

  You don’t know what to do. Panic makes you frantic and you desperately try to think of how you can get yourself away from the monster outside. You have no way to defend yourself. You can’t even run. This thing wants you out, and you know it has the power to rip your ship apart in order to get to you if it wishes for it.

  Suddenly, everything rocks. Your stomach drops when the entire ship shakes and you feel it being lifted into the air. Realization of what is happening hits you: it’s picking it up. If it can’t get you, it’ll just have to take everything.

  “Nononono!” you cry out. The ship tips a little, and you slam into a wall with a grunt. “Stop!” You bang your fists against the metal. “Put it down! Put it down now!”

  The robot simply growls in reply. You don’t even know if it hears you. There’s nothing you can do to stop this. You slump back and cover your face as hot, helpless tears finally begin running down your cheeks.

  “What exactly is it?” First Aid asks as he peers down at the mangled hunk of metal sitting before them on the medibay berth.

  “It’s a ship,” Perceptor flatly replies with a silent “What else would it be?” evident in his tone.

  “This is a ship?” First Aid looks horrified. “But it's completely destroyed! How could it have gotten here?”

  “It must have crashed during our last refueling.” Perceptor lays his servos over the top of the ship, examining it closely. He huffs and straightens, looking at Ratchet. “Where did you find it?”

  “The cargo hold,” the medic replies. “I was down there searching for some extra medical supplies I know we have stored. I wouldn’t have seen it if it hadn’t been for what’s inside.”

  “There’s something alive in there?” First Aid gasps.

  “A human,” Ratchet replies. “It locked itself inside when it saw me.”

  “Impossible.” Perceptor shakes his helm. “Humans are an endangered species that only occupy a small sector of a primitive solar system. They don’t have the technology to make it this far out in space.”

  “Well, clearly they do. I know what I saw. These old optics aren’t that far gone.” Ratchet raps his knuckles gently against the ship. All three mechs have to lean in close so they can hear the soft squeak from inside.

  “How do we get it out?” First Aid asks. “It could be hurt!”

  “It is hurt,” Ratchet answers. “I saw it before it hid itself away. I don’t know how severe the injuries are, but I know it's in pain.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? We need to help it!” First Aid presses his forehelm against the ship and whispers softly. “Hello, little human? Please don’t be afraid! We aren’t going to hurt you!”

  A whimper is all he gains in reply.

  Perceptor crosses his arms. “I can force it out, but you won’t like how I do it.”

  “You can’t hurt it,” Ratchet sharply snaps. “That would be cruel.”

  “I’m not going to hurt it,” the scientist bites back. “I’m simply going to pump a nontoxic gas into the ship that will cause it to eventually lose consciousness. It will have no choice but to come out, and then we can go on from there.”

  “Are…are you sure?” First Aid wrings his servos nervously. “I don’t want it to be scared of us.”

  “Whether it’s scared of us or not doesn’t matter,” Ratchet says. “It’s injured, and if we don’t do something, it’ll succumb to those injuries. It’ll understand we don’t want to hurt it after we patch it up.” He nods to Perceptor. “Go ahead, smoke it out.”

  The scientist’s right servo transforms into a syringe. Ratchet watches with anxiousness churning in his tank as Perceptor presses his left index digit against the side of the ship and presses a small hole straight through with little resistance to stop him. A terrified shout from the human within causes First Aid to whimper.

  Perceptor sticks the upper part of the syringe into the hole, pumping gas into the ship and pulling it back out after a moment, wisps of vapor trailing from the tip. A few seconds later Ratchet hears a string of weak coughs from inside. There is a tense moment where all three of them stand there, and then the doors open and you stumble out with a cloud of gas nearly enveloping your tiny form. You wheeze into your servos, then notice the mechs staring at you and try sprinting right back into the ship. Perceptor cuts you off, slamming his servo down and pinning you under his digits before dragging you back even though you yelp and thrash. You squirm one last time in his grip before suddenly going limp.

  Perceptor gently shifts you to lie in the center of his palm. For a terrifying moment, Ratchet thinks you are offline when he sees how still you are with your optics closed. But then his sensors pick up on the rapid beating of your organic spark, and he relaxes. Not dead. Just simply unconscious.

  “Give it here.” He holds out a waiting servo. Perceptor hands you over; you are given a quick look-over as Ratchet scans your body. There is a nasty cut on the back of your helm, and your vents are gravely bruised with terrible red marks. “Internal bleeding,” he mutters. “As well as external wounds. The crash really messed it up.” He curls his digits lightly over you and brushes his thumb over your forehead. “Doesn’t have a fever though, which is good. Damage is minimal, nothing life threatening. I can have it fixed in a few hours.”

  “You know how to heal organics?” First Aid questions.

  “I’ve been around for a long time. War changes you. I’ve had my equal share of saving Decepticon-ravaged planets inhabited by organics as well as machines.” Ratchet walks over to another berth, being careful not to jostle you too much. “First Aid, go grab the restrainers. We’ll have to keep it still so it doesn’t accidentally hurt itself when it wakes up.”

  “You’ll have to keep it sedated too,” Perceptor says. “I can help with that. Just a little puff of the gas will keep it asleep.”

  “Thank you,” Ratchet says, then pauses. “Listen. Don’t tell anyone about this yet. I don’t want everyone flocking into the medibay and stressing it out. We could accidentally scare this thing to death if we aren’t careful.”

  “I won’t.” Perceptor nods. “Just…make sure it heals properly. I don’t doubt your expertise, but…” He looks down at you, and his optics soften. “It hurts my spark to see something so small in so much pain.”

  First Aid returns with the restrainer. It’s a small mechanism that runs on magnetic power, created by the Lost Light’s resident mad scientist, Brainstorm himself. Ratchet places it directly over your lax form. With a quiet beep, it presses lightly over your midsection, and magnetic bindings weigh down your ankles and wrists. Seeing you trapped like this makes him feel guilty. This obviously isn’t going to be something you will like when you wake up. But there’s no other way for this to go. You won’t understand his good intentions until he heals you. Until then, he has to keep you still.

  He grabs a small serum of glowing blue liquid and bends over you, gently pinching your little fleshy cheeks and working your intake open. “C’mon little one, drink up,” he whispers when he carefully forces the liquid down your throat. He sees your faceplate tighten with discomfort, but your throat pulses as you subconsciously swallow. “There you go. Good human, good human.”

  “What are you giving it?” First Aid asks.

  “Something I learned to make back in my early days,” he replies. “It heals from the inside. Works on both organics and machines.” He pats your cheeks praisingly and draws away. “There. That should help with the bleeding. It’ll be fine now. I’ll continue to monitor it over the next few days.”

  First Aid exhales a relieved sigh. Perceptor reaches out a tentative hand and brushes your hair away from your closed optics. “It’s so small…so soft…”

  “We have to be careful with it,” First Aid frets. “We don’t want it to break.”

  “Listen.” Ratchet’s tone hardens authoritatively. “I said this before, but I’ll say it again. We have to keep this between the three of us. Don’t tell anyone about a human being in here.”

  “But what about the captain?” First Aid asks. “Shouldn’t he know?”

  “The captain can’t know. If he finds out there's a human on the ship, he’ll go nuts with excitement and probably end up accidentally crushing the poor thing. Until I confirm it’s not going to drop dead at any moment, we keep it a secret. Got it?”

  Both bots nod. Ratchet nods with them. “Alright. I’m going to stay here and make sure it’s condition remains stable. You can come back tomorrow to check in on it and see how it’s doing.”

  Perceptor dips his head and leaves without another word. First Aid lingers, optics never leaving you.

  “It’ll be fine,” Ratchet reassures him. “I’ll take care of it. Go recharge.”

  It takes a lot for the other medic to step back and exit the medibay. Ratchet watches him go, then sighs and drags a servo over his faceplate. Becoming the caretaker of an injured organic lifeform was not something he had planned for today. Primus, how the hell am I going to tell Rodimus?

  A soft noise drags his attention away from the alarming thought of what might happen if the extroverted captain learns about his new “crewmate.” He looks down at you and startles a bit. Your eyes, foggy and unfocused, are staring right at him. There’s a fatigued expression of utter terror on your face that once again has his spark feeling like it's been ripped from his chassis and stomped on.

  “You’ll be okay,” he whispers to you. “I promise.”

  You close your eyes and let your helm loll to the side. Ratchet watches the soft rise and fall of your chassis for a few moments longer, then dims the medibay lights and returns to his previous work on the other side of the room.

  Never do you stray far from his mind.

[katakaluptastrophy]

The ships … the ships were still full of people. I reached our hand out into space. I extended. I struggled. He said, I bit through the sun first. It’s human nature. That started things going.

Imagine being on those ships (and remember, not everyone in those ships was a nefarious trillionaire) zooming away from earth.

Maybe you've watched mushroom clouds blossoming across the face of the earth as you pulled away, the lines of communication fizzing out and going dead.

Watched...something...happen to the earth. Watched the sun flare and then flicker out.

I sliced through Venus, Mercury, Mars … by that point a couple of the tugs had already launched through the Kuiper. I had to kill Jupiter and Saturn in a fucking hurry. I reached … they blinked away from me … all I could do was hope that they’d watched what I was doing and all died from fucking terror. You and I went full fucking Hungry Caterpillar. We took Uranus … Neptune … crunched down Pluto … found every satellite and craft, reached in, crunched up all the humans, moved on.

You try to make contact with the installations as you pass - the small city on Mars, the helium-3 capture facility at Jupiter, the mines on Saturn's moons, the skeleton crew constructing the shell on Uranus, the Kuiper platform. Maybe the comms are eerily quiet. Or perhaps, you make contact for just a moment, enough time to witness what happens when god doesn't kill people "clean".

As you speed away, the rings of the gas giants burst asunder and the planets seem to desaturate, the readings go haywire as their magnetic fields suddenly destabilise. And something, oh god, something seems to slip away from each one, some absolute acid trip of horror, like some kind of writhing, fleeing ghost.

The moment I found the fleet spinning up to enter FTL, it was too late … I could only grab one of them … and you and I held it in the palm of our hand. I was in there with them. All those frightened people. All those runaway rats.

And then something physically stops one of the ships. Alarms are going off, sparks are flying, lights are flickering, and there's a horrifying sense of presence (if John feeling Alecto's presence was unremitting screaming inside his head, what does the presence of the newly combined John and Alecto feel like? Because I don't think that invovles less eldritch psychic screaming, somehow).

And then you break free, and spin off into some kind of warp of time and space, with the knowledge that you are the last humans left alive in the universe and that something truly terrible lurks on the husk of the earth.

Imagine 5000 years of that tale being passed down through humanity (that's equivalent to the time that passed between the stone age and the present day), as civilisations rose and fell across planets and systems.

And then imagine, one day, being the ship that encountered something they'd never seen before. A ship, of an entirely unfamiliar design, bearing an unfamiliar symbol: a skull. The whole ship is covered in bones. Sleek, designed, inlaid bones. Human bones.

When they hail you, you see humans, but not like you've seen before. They're dressed in strange outfits: military uniforms and robes that look like something from a textbook of the most ancient history. They're carrying swords. Swords! Many of them seem starved and sickly, as if their bodies are consuming themselves. They speak of their empire and their god in strange, archaic words - an impossibly ancient language from the earth that was - of the resurrection of the dead, of the Lord over the River, of necromancy.

And you realise that however horrifying the tales of the earth's death in fire, there are things worse than death.

[kentokrazy]

a/n: im so high and i couldn’t get this out of my head!!

cw: alcohol, death, spoilers? hints of relationships with reader

27 year old nanami kento!!

* 27yearold!nanami who still throws his jacket and shoes to the side after a long day

* 27yearold!nanami’s who the morninngs he ignores his alarm clock and gets dressed half asleep sometimes puts on mismatched socks

* 27yearold!nanami who still drinks too much, but he doesn’t go out and sits on the couch watching documentaries

* 27yearold!nanami who when red faced and drunk, sits on the floor with you in the kitchen. you’re both in pajamas, fingers greasy and eating fried chicken you ordered

* 27yearold!nanami who goes to the gym and still listens to his high school playlist

* 27yearold!nanami who doesn’t wear suits on the weekends. opting for a simple shirt but still fitted jeans and shoes

* 27yearold!nanami who gets messy hair in the mornings and when he has nowhere to go, doesn’t fix it

* 27yearold!nanami who still cries when drunk because he missed his best friend

* 27yearold!nanami who walked home, so drunk he couldn’t walk when he got mad at you in your apartment when you both were talking about your shared time at jujutsu high.

* you brought up how haibara and geto were gone, and it was only a matter time before you two were too.

* 27yearold!nanami who still slouches like he did as a teenager when he’s especially tired.

* 27yearold!nanami who ever since his first job has hated staying later than usual.

* 27yearold!nanami who still silently wants to fight the “man” and hates himself for not putting up a fight and turning selfish.

* 27yearold!nanami who goes to the gym more and more because he can’t stop thinking about how yuu and yuuji laugjh the same say.

* 27yearold!nanami who still eats cup noodles and gas station onigiri

* 27yearold!nanami who got so drunk that he got in an e-bay auction battle and bought a $629 cologne and when he smelled it it smelled like nothing.

* 27yearold!nanami who discovers the cologne was empty and the seller was selling the bottle after he re-read the description.

* 27yearold!nanami who sometimes breaks out his old nintendo system, a bunch of junk food and plays his old games.

* 27yearold!nanami who drinks out of the juice bottle when it’s early enough

* 27yearold!nanami who pretends he knows nothing about the internet but will turn to yuuji, peer down over his glasses and in the most stale voice he can manage then say. “chat let me cook.” in response to yuuji’s worry for more grade one curse killing,”

* yuuji didn’t know who he could tell

* 27yearold!nanami who irons his suits and clothes. gets them tailored. wearing his band t-shirt from college that still doesn’t quite fit anymore. its got holes on the hems.

* 27yearold!nanami who just sometimes drinks the cheapest beer he can find when hes super desperate

* 27yearold!nanami who still buys two drinks at the vending machine and when he gives one to yuuji, he feels like he’s back to 17.

* 27yearold!nanami who is 99% of the time very strict with his diet and exercise. but sometimes hes just lazy

* 27yearold!nanami with a retirement fund.

* 27yearold!nanami with an account for his future children.

* 27yearold!nanami who sometimes takes a while changing his sheets

* 27yearold!nanami who still laughs at dick jokes he sees on the internet

* 27yearold!nanami who can be really stiff and anal… is still a 27 year old

[jpitha]

Risk Tolerance

Humans have an unusually high risk tolerance among the galaxy's sapients. Watching a human operate their own equipment can be truly something to behold (from a safe distance).

Perhaps their utter indifference to death and dismemberment developed as a result of evolutionary pressures on their planet. Among worlds that support sapient life, theirs is unusually competitive.

Or it could just be cultural.

Griz'ek and Summer Breeze were sitting in a cafe, enjoying their evening meal when two humans sprinted past them. Remembering the Confederation's second rule when living and working with humans (if they're running away from something, you run too) Griz and Summer jumped out of their seats and took off after them.

As soon as Griz and Summer started after the humans, they heard the alarm. One of the ships on the docking ring had an overspeed alarm, it's hooting trill making it very clear that something was very wrong.

The humans passed the pressure door for the docking ring, and a small crowd trotted after them.

One of the humans, a male Griz thought, looked down the hall worried, "Is that everyone? Station! Is anyone left on the docking ring?"

"I don't detect anyone within the confines of the docks. Sealing doors." The pressure doors came down with a muffled slam. A moment later there was a thump as the stricken ship was ejected from the docking ring, and then the windows in the hall went white from the flash a split second before the anti-glare shields darkened the images.

The female human looked to the other. "Okay, okay you were right. adding a 3% solution of telmurian gas caused it to overspeed."

"What did I tell you?" Summer could have sworn the second human looked smug, but they weren't completely sure about human body language. "I said that the telmurian gas was much too volatile. It was never going to work"

"Well, yes, I see that now Jamie. What do you recommend then?"

Jamie nodded his head. "We should have increased the outer compensator allowance by 10 microns."

The female human rolled her eyes. "That would cause an unacceptable amount of coke buildup and you know it. If it was that easy, the Confederation would have done it already!"

Finally, Griz'ek spoke up. "I'm sorry, but what happened?"

Jamie and the other human looked over, and with a realization that they had an audience, they looked sheepish. "Oh, I'm sorry. Mary here-:" Jamie gestured "-thought that if we injected a 3% solution of telmurian gas into the engines we'd get a stable 15% increase in drive output."

Summer Breeze's feathers rippled concern. "But, telmurian gas is highly dangerous! It's downright explosive. Why would you mix it into the drive beam?"

Mary looked defiant. "It would have worked if the Remlar Drive Yards knew how to make an engine. Human thrusters are always overbuilt by a factor of two or three. It would have been fine if the injection chamber came from Niven." She looks at Jamie. "The next ship we buy is 100% human made."

Summer Breeze couldn't help themselves. Their feathers puffed out and they gestured angrily. "You tried injecting a known explosive gas into the drive beam and though it would make it work better?"

Mary looks surprised. "Yes? How else do you gain efficiencies? Sure, sometimes it explodes, but other times you get a Flip drive."

Humans tended to use their own domestically developed Flip drive to travel between the stars. It was quite a bit faster than the Confederation's FTL Warp, but most other sapients considered it much too unstable to use.

Griz looked at the humans with awe. "But, your ship was destroyed."

Jamie shrugged. "We'll get another, and everyone is fine. Chalk it up to lessons learned." He looked out the window. "Hey Station, anyone get hurt?"

"No Jamie, there was no damage other than your ship - which was completely destroyed. The ejection systems worked perfectly."

Jamie smiled at Griz and Summer. "See? No harm done."

Summer couldn't stand it anymore. "NO HARM DONE HE SAYS. HE HAS NO SHIP!" Summer's feathers won't stop rippling up and down.

Griz puts his tentacle around his friend. "Come on Summer, let's leave the humans to their own insanity and go get some drinks-" He glares at Jamie and Mary "-on the other side of the station. Summer Breeze continues on, "THEY JUST THOUGHT IT WAS FINE TO ADD AN EXPLOSIVE TO THEIR DRIVE JUST TO SEE WHAT IT WOULD DO!"

[pioneer-marine-service]

Ensuring Safety with Gas Alarm Systems in Dubai: A Comprehensive Guide

In a city as vibrant and bustling as Dubai, safety is paramount, especially when it comes to handling potentially hazardous materials like gas. Gas alarm systems play a pivotal role in ensuring the safety of both residential and commercial spaces by detecting the presence of harmful gases and alerting occupants before a dangerous situation arises.

Understanding Gas Alarm Systems

Gas alarm systems are sophisticated devices designed to monitor the air for the presence of various gases, including but not limited to carbon monoxide (CO), natural gas (methane), propane, hydrogen, and more. These systems consist of sensors strategically placed throughout the premises, connected to a central control panel. When the sensors detect the presence of gas beyond safe levels, they trigger visual and audible alarms to alert occupants of the potential danger.

Importance in Dubai

In Dubai, where rapid urbanization and industrialization are prevalent, the risk of gas leaks and related incidents cannot be overlooked. From residential apartments to commercial establishments and industrial facilities, gas alarm systems are essential for safeguarding lives and property against the dangers posed by gas leaks, which can lead to fires, explosions, and health hazards.

Key Features and Benefits

Early Detection: Gas alarm systems provide early detection of gas leaks, allowing occupants to evacuate the premises swiftly and take necessary precautions to prevent accidents.

Continuous Monitoring: These systems offer round-the-clock monitoring, ensuring that any gas leaks are promptly identified, even when the premises are unoccupied.

Remote Monitoring: Advanced gas alarm systems can be integrated with smart technology, enabling remote monitoring and alerts through mobile devices, providing peace of mind to property owners and managers, even when they are away.

Integration with Building Management Systems (BMS): Gas alarm systems can be seamlessly integrated with BMS, allowing for centralized control and monitoring of various safety systems within a building.

Compliance with Regulations: In Dubai, regulatory bodies such as the Dubai Civil Defense (DCD) set stringent safety standards for buildings and establishments. Gas alarm systems help property owners comply with these regulations and enhance overall safety measures.

Choosing the Right System

When selecting a gas alarm system in Dubai, several factors should be considered:

Type of Gas: Ensure that the system is capable of detecting the specific types of gases commonly used or present in the premises.

Accuracy and Sensitivity: Opt for systems with high accuracy and sensitivity to ensure reliable detection of even trace amounts of gas.

Scalability: Choose a system that can be easily expanded or upgraded to accommodate the evolving needs of the property.

Certifications and Compliance: Verify that the system meets relevant safety standards and certifications mandated by authorities in Dubai.

Maintenance and Support: Select a reputable supplier or manufacturer that offers reliable maintenance services and technical support.

Conclusion

Gas alarm systems are indispensable components of safety infrastructure in Dubai, providing early detection and warning capabilities against gas leaks. By investing in robust gas alarm systems, property owners and managers can mitigate risks, safeguard occupants, and uphold regulatory compliance, thereby contributing to a safer and secure environment for all.

For more details visit our website: Gas alarm systems Dubai

Contact: +971 6525 7347

Mail id: info@pioneermarineservice.com

Website: https://pioneermarineservice.com/

Address: WH no:g2/B-2,Near Tasheel Industrial Area 13,Sharjah,UAE

[sassycheesecake]

A/N: I have been really into dark romance and shit, ever since I got that TikTok recommendation. I hereby present yakuza!Shinsuke Kita x Reader. Part 1/2

‘Shit. Shit. Shit! I am late!’, you curse yourself as you almost bolt out of the train, as soon as it stops and its doors open.

You accidentally ran into a lot of people, shouting quick apologies over your shoulder, still running to your workplace.

Thank the heavens for your stamina.

Finally arriving at the Tokyo Ambulance Rescue Station, you quickly run inside and each of your coworkers stops what they are doing to look at you.

Huffing and almost wheezing like you’re having an asthma attack, you step inside and head to the female locker room without looking at any of your coworkers.

Already feeling disgusted by your sweaty state, you change into your paramedic uniform nonetheless. 

Now in fresh clothes, you trot your way to one of the ambulance vehicles, seeing your friend Makima checking the equipment in the backpacks and making sure everything is filled up. 

Gulping in nervousness, you approach slowly.

“Glad you decided to show up. Almost done.” Makima tells you in a deadly calm voice. Makima is one of those people who despise being late, whether it's herself or someone she is waiting on. She is only a few years older than you but still your superior. Great, this is just your first month after graduating but you were so tired last night that you forgot to put on your damn alarm for the next morning. 

Not that this is an excuse, but your showing up is all that matters right?

With shaking footsteps, you make your way into the vehicle and start apologizing in a rant.

“Makima I am so so sorry, I promise it will never happen again!”, you frantically explain yourself, still out of breath.

The long-haired redhead briefly looks at you before bursting out laughing and you don’t know if this makes you feel better or worse. 

Giggling, she closes up the i.v. medication backpack and storages it back underneath the cabinet of the bandages. 

“(Y/N) don’t worry about it really, shit happens to all of us. No one is perfect and everyone here at the station was late once. Even me.” Makima explains and you can feel yourself being able to breathe easier already.

Just when you were about to reply to her, your beeper went off with a loud annoying peeping voice.

You run to the rack, where your black jacket with your name and the words T.A.R.S. are stitched into, and hop into the passenger seat of the vehicle.

Reading the screen at the front, you groan at the message that the fire station has sent you.

‘PATIENT PROB OD, TROUBLE BREATHING, UNCONSCIOUS, UNRESPONSIVE ‘

It’s probably the troublesome homeless teenager Denji again. You have met Denji twice now. Once beaten up badly and lying knocked out cold in an alley where he was found by a couple of passengers. The other time you found him almost bleeding to death due to a deep stab wound in his thigh, which he explained he simply got mugged. 

Nonetheless, you press the buttons for the siren and the blue lights, while Makima steps on the gas to rush to the scene. 

The rush and adrenaline are running through your system, making your heart bounce in excitement. Saving lives in acute situations is your thing! It’s a working environment that always comes with new foreign things and patients. Each day is different, which is exactly what your brain needs. Even if you have to drive through the massive city of Tokyo, the different kinds of people and the stories you get to tell your parents sometimes, are worth their shocking and even disgusting expressions sometimes. 

Once you were called to a restaurant, in which a patient had an allergic reaction and went into a nonlethal anaphylactic shock. 

The patient told you that his date was so horrible, that he purposely ate onions, even though he is allergic to them. 

All just to get away from her.

Shaking your head, the logic of men never ceases to amaze you. 

Arriving at the scene, you see two people leaning over a young guy that is laying on the sidewalk. He is already turned to his side, making sure in case he needs to throw up, he doesn’t choke on his vomit. Mentally thanking these people for performing the stable lateral position on the unconscious boy.

You grab the mobile vital monitor and the backpack that includes material for giving an I.V. including meds and an infusion. 

Before Makima grabs the breathing and the medical suction pump, she turns off the siren but leaves the blue lights on. Pressing the lock on the car keys, the ambulance is securely locked. Unfortunately, people tend to break into ambulance vehicles and proceed to steal the medications.

Both women are rushing to the patient, quickly going through the ABCDE approach, and they manage to load him onto the stretcher after making sure he didn’t overdose. His heart is beating abnormally fast, his blood pressure is at 75/40 and when you shine a small flashlight to take a look at his eyes, his pupils are dilated.

There’s no doubt about it, that Denji got his hands on cocaine.

After giving him Adrenaline and Naloxone, his condition stabilises and Denji begins to stir.

Blinking his eyes open, a bright light immediately greets him and Denji swears he died. 

He feels incredibly nauseous and his head is spinning like he just went on countless rides on a spinning wheel. 

You hover over Denji’s pale figure, a vomiting bag already in your right hand. 

“Denji? Can you hear me?” You ask him in a concerned voice.

When Denji was about to answer, he rapidly sits up and snatches the bag out of your hand, and hurls right into it.

Rubbing his back in a comforting manner, you sit beside him on the stretcher.

Makima is giving a quick report to their station boss, before joining you in the vehicle.

The sight of Denji vomiting disgusts Makima, deciding to wait outside because she can’t stand the smell or sight of someone throwing up.

“Denji, I think we should really take you to the hospital, you’re only 16 years old, where did you even get this stuff?” You ask him in a worried voice.

“It’s none of your business, let me out! I need to go!” Denji snaps at you, beginning to stand up. 

You know you shouldn’t fight someone who just woke up from a drug rush, so you let him stand up.

Standing on wobbly legs, he places his hand against the vehicle wall to stabilize his balance.  

Breathing heavily out of his mouth, he was about to open the vehicle door when Makima already beat him to it.

Surprised that he is up, she moves to the side to let him step out of the vehicle.

Denji almost falls flat on his face and his pale face makes you even more worried about him. 

“Denji, are you sure you’re okay? Do you want us to call anyone?” 

“Stop acting like you fucking care about me. I am just a street rat. I don’t need your pity! Just leave me the fuck alone!” He angrily spits at you, like a moody teenager that got his phone taken away. 

Makima and you are watching him walk away, still unbalanced but both of you leave him be.

“You’re welcome by the way for not letting you die today!” Makima yells after him. Denji shows his middle finger up in response and continues to stomp away.

Sighing in defeat, Makima and you get back into the vehicle and you are making your way back to the station.

Giving the report that the patient refused to cooperate and come with you, you drive back.

The clock strikes 22:00 and Makima and you are finally free to change after the night shift has arrived. 

Farewelling Makima goodbye, you begin to walk to the train station.

Having your headphones in your ear, you scroll through your Spotify playlist and choose ‘Glitter and Gold’. 

You had a really busy day and barely had a chance to go to the bathroom. 

Entering the women’s restroom, you look up from your phone, and the sight before you freezes immediately.

Right in front of you stands a very tall guy with sandy-blonde hair, he has to be at least 6’1 and he is holding a lot of tissues against his arm, blood soaking each tissue.

The stranger holds a painful expression while putting pressure on his arm.

His muscled body is leaning against the sink, the blood on his upper arm dripping down right into it. 

Brown eyes rapidly look in your direction, his face shining with curiosity.

Chuckling nervously, he starts talking with his deep voice.

“Don’t scream, don't call for anyone. Just got a little scratch on my arm.” 

Blinking a few times at his wound, you slowly step towards him.

Your approach is making him tense, his non-injured arm moving to his side, where he holds a dagger in case you want to attack him.

“Your wound looks pretty bad. Don’t worry I am a paramedic, I can take care of that if you want to.”

The blonde-haired giant looks at you for a few seconds, making sure you’re not lying. 

After a few moments of tense silence, he nods unsurely.

Breathing out slowly, you awkwardly glance at the door and at him a few times. 

“Uhm. Just follow me then, I need to take a proper look at it. I have my materials at home so come home with me so I can patch you up properly.” You explain to him.

His eyes watch you carefully, hesitantly he nods and puts his maroon jacket back on.

“Do you have a belt or something on you?” You ask him as you both exit the public restroom. 

The tall stranger nods and takes off his belt to hand it to you.

Grasping the belt you begin to tie it around his arm, so the wound hopefully stops the bleeding until you both arrive at your place. 

Wincing at the tightness, he thanks you quietly.

As you both begin to enter the train, which is thankfully empty around this time on a weekday, you ask him what happened to his arm.

“Not that's yer business anyway, so I’d rather not say.” He avoids your curious look. 

“But that wound is pretty deep! You need to go to the hospital and get that stitched up probably.” You try to reason with him.

“I am serious. Drop it.” He snaps at you with an angry frown.

Accepting his request, you decide to drop it. 

With nervous hands, you glance down at the metro floor and wait in silence to arrive at your destination. 

Ten uncomfortable minutes later, you both arrive at the subway station that is close to your apartment.

Unlocking the door with your key, you enter inside and wait for him.

The blonde hesitates for a few seconds, glancing down the hallway nervously before deciding that you’re not a threat, and enters as well.

Gently closing the door, you urge him to follow you into your bathroom where your medical kit lies underneath the sink.

You direct him to sit on the edge of the bathtub and he complies without question.

“I need to see your wound properly in order to clean it up.” You tell him while putting on medical gloves and setting the necessary materials like the stitching materials, disinfectant wipes, and fluid, and scissors. 

He winces while rolling up his sleeve to present you with his injury. 

You start by taking a wet washcloth and gently dabbing it around the area, quietly apologizing whenever he hisses and flinches away from the touch.

As you are now able to see the injury better, you see that it’s actually a bullet wound, hence the bleeding was so heavy.

Shocked that he has this kind of injury, you remember that he doesn’t want to talk about how he got it. 

“Lift your arm please, I need to know if the bullet is still in the muscle tissue.“

He gives you an incredulous look since lifting his arm would only worsen his pain. Nonetheless, he complies.

Quickly looking around his arm you don’t see an exit wound, closing your eyes in pity for the stranger, you know what you are going to say next, definitely won’t be easy.

“Let me guess. That thing is still in there.” He looks to the ceiling of your bathroom with a tight smile.

“U-Uhm yes. I told you to go to a hospital. It needs to be surgically removed. I really recommend it Mr….”, you drift off as you don’t recall knowing his name.

He looks at you and realizes he’s never introduced himself to you properly. 

“Name’s Atsumu Miya, ya can call me Atsumu.” 

Later on, Atsumu enters the familiar door of the headquarters of the ‘Fox Den’ and lets out a heavy sigh.

The pent-up frustration from the fight with Karasuno, the pain, and the treatment that he had to bite through with you is making his body insanely tired from exhaustion. 

Nonetheless, he needs to give a report to his boss, the leader of the Inarizaki gang of Hyogo. 

Atsumu walks down the hallway that has multiple doors connected to it and since it’s awfully quiet, Atsumu guesses that most members are either asleep or away on missions.

Entering the lift at the end of the hallway, he presses the ‘5’ button for the conference rooms and where also the office of his boss. 

Swinging back and forth on his heels, Atsumu waits until the elevator stops and continues his path to the room of the leader of Inarizaki.

Once he arrives at his destination, he knocks first, before entering.

“Hey Kita, 'm back from the mission." The blonde says when he steps into the office.

A man who has silver hair with black tips in it, is sitting at the desk and he briefly looks up from his laptop with a stoic face, before looking down again, continuing to type something down. 

Ignoring the warm greeting of his boss, Atsumu plops down on one of the chairs in front of the desk and puts his arms behind his head to stretch.

Unfortunately, he completely forgot about the injury on his arm, immediately putting the injured arm down again with a winced hiss. 

The head of the gang looks at his trusted friend before a slight frown of concern decorates his face. 

“What happened?“ he asks in a calm voice.

“Oh, you know the usual. Just some fuckers from Karasuno in our territory and one of them fucking shot me.“ Atsumu explains while gently rubbing over his arm, feeling the wrapped bandage from you underneath his jacket. 

His frown deepens at the mention of their rival gang, the Karasuno crows, but listens quietly. 

“Do you need medical attention? Do you want me to send Ginjima or Riseki up?“ He continues to question him.

“Nah, I am good Kita. Got stitched up by this cute girl that I met while I was bleedin‘ out like a pig in a women’s restroom by the train station.“ Atsumu pulls his sleeve to reveal the bandage.

Kita glances at the bandage on his friend‘s arm, a mix between concern and anger but also suspicion haunts his face. 

He slowly gets up from his chair and rounds his table with slow steps, making his way toward the older twin.

The injured man looks at him with curious eyes while raising his eyebrow in confusion.

The silver-haired man stares at one of his most trusted right-hand man with a neutral expression and puts his arms behind his back.

“Tell me more about this mysterious medic girl.“ He demands.

Atsumu grins mischievously at his boss and begins to tell him about his fight to the encounter of meeting you. 

Yawning, you stretched out your exhausted limbs and climbed into your comforting blue soft blankets. The feeling of your head hitting the cushy pillow makes you sigh in bliss. It was a long day, first the rowdy patients, then getting vomited on by a drunk homeless person that almost overdosed, and then there was the injured blonde-haired stranger you met tonight. You’re not going to lie, it was a whole mountain of stupid to just invite a stranger over to your apartment. Anxiously, you remember, that he mentioned he didn’t want to go to the hospital to get patched up because he needs to stay anonymous. 

The only question is…

Why does he need to do that?

Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone vibrates with a message. You curiously pick it up to see what the notification is. 

Eyes widening in shock and also a concern, you glance at your screen.

Unknown number

‘Thank you for taking care of my friend. I would like to repay you some time for your kind service’

[johnypage95]

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[pattonsmedical-blog]

Dental Air Compressors Manufacturers Pattons Medical USA

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[larryandersonthings]

Coastal Empire Fire and Security provides high-quality access control systems and automatic security gates for commercial and residential buildings, assigning each guest or employee a unique security code and controlled access times.

[tired-biscuit]

Bunny!reader that spent all night teasing wolf!kiba and is now pinned to the back seat of their car being mounted roughly YUMMMM

18+ fem!reader // cw: hybrids

all i can think about is him putting his hand on your thigh as he drives you home after your date.

with his eyes hard on the road and his jaw tightly set, he's clearly in a bad mood and you're to blame. choosing to act like a particularly naughty bunny during the entirety of your outing, you've spent the entire evening provoking him; testing his limits and trying to invoke some jealousy just to see what kind of wolf he actually is.

so far, he doesn't seem to be like the big, bad wolf that parents used to scare their children with in stories. that specific discovery only turns you braver.

and it's no wonder that you're feeling courageous. he didn't do jack shit after you had dressed all cute and flirted just the tiniest - moderate - amount with the waiter. didn't bat an eye as you'd started feeling all sorts of complacent and full of yourself. no, instead, your wolf of a boyfriend had just turned quiet.

so, you're not nervous at all as you now sit in his car, looking out the window with your reflection in the glass so awfully smug. besides the rather irregular tapping of his fingers against the inner side of your leg, there seems to be no threat visible on the horizon. to be fair, there is not much love behind the stroke... but you don't let yourself doubt in it.

it'll warm up over time, after all. you know it will.

"had fun tonight?" you chime at some point, trying to initiate conversation even if it's painfully evident that he doesn't want to talk to you for a change. you've grown bored of staring at the passing street lamps and empty sidewalk, so the vein that now bulges and turns prominent in the side of his neck is a welcomed sight, compared to the dullness outside.

"babe?" you insist, pushing him when he doesn't say anything. goodness, you just can't help yourself, can you? it's too fun; too entertaining to watch him sulk like this.

"no," he answers simply. finally. "i didn't have fun tonight."

a small giggle escapes your lips at his answer. you don't miss the tick in his jaw that appears when he swallows and grips the steering wheel tighter with his other hand. his knuckles flash stark white with the grip, and the sight would have perhaps been scary if you didn't otherwise consider him as nothing more but a mere pup after tonight's events.

"what's so funny?" said pup grits out, now. his voice has turned deeper, almost growly. it owns a certain edge to it that unwillingly activates the ancient alarm system that's been drilled inside the prey part of your brain.

unfortunately for you, you choose to brush it off. instead, you bat your eyelashes up at him, all pretty-like. you smile. say, "oh, nothing." and start snickering again like a little girl. like a mean little girl.

thump, thump, thump - something snaps within him at the way you so openly mock him now. his heart begins beating faster than normal with each passing second; your keen rabbit hearing catches the uprise in the rhythm of his pulse. the sound makes your ears twitch and your body tense up a bit. especially because his grip on your leg turns just a bit more firm... a bit more possessive.

has his hand always been this big? even the sweater he's wearing seems to have turned tighter around his biceps. if you listen closely, you can hear the stretch of the fabric; the micro-tears in it.

"hey... i've told you; it really is nothing, babe," you try to soothe because the blaring of the alarms inside your head doesn't seem to be so insignificant anymore - nearly the entirety of your smugness has dissipated with it. flicking your gaze to his foot as he applies more weight to the gas pedal, the street lamps which you can see in your peripheral are passing by way faster now than they did before.

your mouth feels awfully dry all of a sudden. his presence seems bigger, more intimidating. it's like he's sucking all the air inside the car with every breath he takes, and it all makes your voice sound small as you murmur, "slow down a bit, will you? ...you're driving really fast."

he doesn't seem to be listening to what you're telling him as he steps further on the gas pedal again. it's either that, or he's ignoring you on purpose, because all he says now is, "you're bullshitting me."

"i'm not!" your tone is panicky as you blabber out the words. he's driving way too fast and his nails are no longer blunt. you can feel the prickle of claws as they start to sink into the fat of your thigh. the sharpness causes your tights to rip in some places, and yet they still continue to grow.

when you whip your head to the side to look at him, his eyes are still glued to the road. but you can see the way the corner of his mouth is twitching. can see the way his chest heaves. the way he's calculating something.

"kiba," you start.

"you know damn well that i don't like it when you make me look dumb in front of other people," he snaps. "and what did you do? exactly that. you made me look like a fuckin' moron in front of the entire restaurant."

"kiba, i didn't- fuck!" the instinct to kick out your legs bubbles within you and stops you mid-sentence when he squeezes your thigh, harshly. it's a rabbit thing; one that he knows how to take advantage of but has never actually taken it before. until now, that is.

your stomach wants to climb up your throat when he suddenly swerves into a wide, but luckily-empty, parking lot. he hits the brake with such force that it makes your seat belt bite into your middle painfully. your hair curtains your face as you try to gasp for air and collect yourself.

there's silence for a few moments. and then;

"bunny."

his voice sounds strange now as he says the pet name you otherwise melt at. it's like his teeth are getting too big for his mouth, but you don't dare turn to look if it's actually true. besides, it's not like you could see much anyway; hot tears sting your waterline.

"bunny," he repeats, just a tad bit softer this time. "look at me."

when you refuse, his hand reaches up to cup your face. the claws are still there - they pinch your cheeks as he holds you by your chin and turns your head to the side by force. it doesn't hurt necessarily, but the grip is tenacious enough to make your lips purse even as your cupid's bow quivers a bit.

he's snarling when you finally raise your blurry gaze to look at him from underneath your eyelashes. his pupils are nothing more but slits, and his teeth are bared, fangs elongated. they gleam in the silvery light of the street lamp which he's parked right under. you swear that you can catch the sheen of drool on them.

he looks... furious. frightening. big and bad.

like an apex predator.

and that apex predator leans in, now. he leans in, the warmth of his breath fanning your face, and your heart starts to jackhammer all over your ribcage because of the proximity. every single hair on your body stands to attention; it's like your goddamn soul is screaming at you to flee, despite the fact that you can't because you're sitting completely frozen in your seat.

he's gotten so big that he makes the car seem small. it's an suv, for fuck's sake.

your voice shakes as you try to utter a worthy-enough apology because you're scared - goddammit, you're scared shitless. "kiba, i'm... i'm-"

"get your ass in the backseat, you stupid fucking rabbit," he interrupts you immediately, squeezing your cheeks again to make you shut up. he doesn't even give you a moment to breathe before he yanks you forward, forcing you to look right into his eyes. "i'm gonna fuck your brains outta your dumb lil' head."

the way he looks at you now - so starved and possessive and borderline insane - sends heat pooling between your legs. you don't want it to happen, don't want him to know and smell that his mean demeanor makes your little bunny cunt awfully wet and sticky despite being so vulnerable compared to him, but you just can't seem to stop it. especially as he presses his forehead against your own sweat-riddled one and whispers,

"and if you even as much as try to run, i'll hunt you down like the prey you are... i swear i'll fuck you in the middle of the street if i have to."