forget safety

shxarpshootxr  asked:

send ⚠ to pick up/carry my muse

“What the - Lance!” Keith bit out as the ground disappeared from underneath him, suddenly reappearing under his head, and yep, there was Lances ass. “Put me down!” He let out a noise much like an angry cat, digging his fingers into his ribs to loosen his grip. Too much, too much contact. “Lance!”

Forget fair pay and safety

According to reports today, President Donald Trump is about to sign legislation blocking the Fair Pay and Safe Workplaces rule—a common-sense rule passed by President Obama that protects working people.

The Fair Pay and Safe Workplaces rule would have helped prevent employers who cheated their employees or put workers’ lives at risk from receiving federal contracts, by requiring that federal contractors disclose violations of federal labor and employment laws.

oceanwoven  asked:

"What if I fell down right now? Would you write that down and /then/ come help me?"

“Depends how far you fell.” Keith didn’t look up, lips twitching slightly at the petulant tone. “I might write the next few things down first.” He glanced up at Lance slyly from under his fringe, bent over the Castles ‘shopping list’. “What do you need, Lance?”

I want you to wrap your hand around my throat
and stop me from uttering those three words - -
when we fuck like lonely rabbits on ecstasy.

I want you to bite my tongue off
and fucking press my body into the damp mattress
blinker me with your hair, and saddle

   be liberal with the whip.
and conservative with care; no social security or safety signals

Forget
forget, those three words will hurt us both.

but
       I miss her

A Witch and A Jedi

@musicidesquad[Anakin]

{A Small note Italic letters means a spell}

After the birth of Luke and Leia,The people in the council were still unaware Padme was a witch,the only two people who knew were Precisely,Obi-Wan Kenobi and Her Husband Anakin Skywalker but that soon would change,when she gave the power of her council decisions to Bail Organa as she visited  Christophsis for a Visit but when she and her contact were at danger she casted a spell so anakin could see what was going on,like in his visions but with more realism unaware he was on Cato Neimoidia but luckilly wouldn’t be that far or so one would hope.

‘’We du le mon ennemi on ton. We du le mon ennemi on ton revertas!’’

After that she got her contact to safety but forgetting herself as her foe was a witch as well

-Motus!

with that Padme fell to the ground unable to do anything else

darfichihrenhundstreicheln  asked:

Okay so I know 12 is usually used in fic for romantic purposes, but I think going in a different direction and having Stan and Ford stuck in an elevator would be an interesting story.

12. Locked in a room/Trapped in an elevator

Idk what possessed me to write this in the Better World AU.  Also, Ford continues to not understand how safety works, forgetting that elevators have emergency buttons.  Enjoy.

Send me some characters and a number and I’ll write you a ficlet!


               The elevator doors opened with the characteristic ding.  Ford stepped in, catching a glimpse of the other elevator occupant out of the corner of his eye.  Someone was standing in the corner, going through a wallet with a vested interest. Ford shrugged and went to press the button for the fourth floor, but it was already lit.  

              The other person in here must be going to that floor as well.  The elevator rose quickly for a few moments before coming to a sudden stop with a shudder.  The lights flickered.  

               “Well, that’s just great,” the other person in the elevator said, agitated. Ford’s eyes widened.

               I recognize that voice.  He turned.  Sure enough, the “stranger” was his twin brother.  Stan crossed his arms.

               “Goddammit.  This is what I get for taking the elevator and not the stairs.  Shoulda known better.  Can’t trust things to not break around me.”

               “Stanley?”  Stan looked up.  A decidedly sour expression settled on his face.

               “Stanford.  As if things couldn’t get any worse.”  The lights stopped flickering, then shut off, leaving them in total darkness.  “…Fuck.”

               “Stan, what are you doing here?” Ford asked, straining his eyes in an attempt to see, despite the darkness.  

               “Does it matter?  Look, are you gonna press the emergency contact button or not?”

               “Oh, right.”  Ford felt along the wall of the elevator.  

               I keep meaning to learn Braille, but I’ve never gotten around to it.  Which is a shame, since I could really use the ability to read with my fingertips right now.  His fingers brushed against a button that felt different from the rest.  He pressed it.  There was a loud tone.

               “Yes?” a voice said.

               “Hello, the elevator has stopped working, and we’re trapped.”

               “How many people are there with you?”

               “One.”

               “I’ll notify the fire station. They’ll send someone to help you out.”

               “Thank you.”  The task at hand being taken care of, Ford turned his attention back to Stan. “Seriously, Stanley, why are you here?”

               “Why shouldn’t I be?”

               “This is a hospital.”

               “So?”

               “In San Diego.”

               “So?”

               “Those two localities separate do not seem like places you would visit, let alone when they are combined.”

               “Good God, Sixer, learn how to talk without sounding like you’re throwing up a dictionary.”  There was a pause.  “If you really need to know, I’m visiting someone.”

               “Who?”

               “Her name’s Nonya.  Nonya Beeswax.”

               “You’re as mature as ever, I see.”  

               “Hmph.”  Ford frowned.

               “It really is rude for you to continue to rebuff me, since you clearly didn’t follow my instructions.”

               “What instructions?  The ones where I was supposed to get a boat and go to Russia, or Japan, or anywhere as long as you weren’t nearby?”

               “Yes, those!”

               “Ford, when you saw me, I was fucking homeless.  If I wanted a boat, I woulda had to steal one.”

               “So?  You don’t really care about committing crimes.”  Even though Ford couldn’t see it, he imagined his twin shrugging.

               “Eh.  Someone came along and talked me out of it before I could.”

               “Is that person the same one who you’re visiting?”

               “…Maybe.  Hang on, why are you here?  Don’t you have research to do?  In a different state?”

               “My research assistant is visiting his younger sister.  I came along.”  

               “Oh.”  A tense silence fell.  

               “Are you really not going to tell me why you’re here?”

               “Yep.”

               “Why not?”

               “Because fuck you, that’s why,” Stan said shortly.  The lights flickered back on.  Now that he could see Stan, Ford looked him up and down.  Stan clearly wasn’t homeless anymore, and seemed to be healthier.  He must have dropped his wallet at some point.  Pictures from it were scattered over the elevator floor.  Ford knelt down to pick one up.  “Hey!” Stan protested.  Ford examined the picture.

               “Who is this?”

               “I already told you about her.”

               “Ah, this is Ms. Beeswax, then.”  Stan snorted. Ford looked up.  His twin quickly suppressed the small smile that had crossed his face.  Ford stood and handed the picture to Stan.  “Here.”

               “…Thanks,” Stan said, taking the picture from him and quickly scooping up the other ones.  The elevator doors opened.

               “Sorry about that, gentlemen,” one of the firefighters said.  Stan shrugged.

               “Whatever.  Which floor is this?”

               “Four.”

               “Got it.  Thanks for rescuing me from spending more time with him,” Stan said, jerking a thumb in Ford’s direction.  “…Even if it wasn’t that bad.”  Stan stepped off the elevator and headed down one of the corridors.  Ford watched him leave.  He shook away the temptation to follow his twin.

               I’m not here to see him.

               “Could you tell me where room 435 is?” Ford asked one of the nurses standing nearby.  She pointed at the direction Stan had gone in.  “Thank you.”  Ford set off at a brisk pace after Stan.  “Stan!” he called.  Stan turned.

               “What is it?”  Ford caught up with him.  

               “I’m headed this way, too.”  Stan grinned.

               “Huh.  Sometimes when things break, the world doesn’t go to hell.”

i.
i learned to bite back without getting blood on my mouth. to swing hard without breaking my fist. to set fires without burning up my own clothes.

ii.
sophomore year suicide but not really. part of me died and the other part wanted to. it’s not just an exaggeration it’s the scars under my skin. the ones on the outside that scabbed and healed over. the kids who thought rumors weren’t time bombs in rose gardens. like this is recess gossip not locker room isolation.

iii.
so I hit back. became the better bitch in most ways and grew thick skin. i don’t even feel the sting anymore. nothing can touch me so nothing can love me so nothing can fucking leave me.

iv.
forget safety in numbers. there’s only ever been safety in being alone.

—  remember it all? the way they wouldn’t even look at you?– lily rain

Happy holidays to everyone who celebrates it today! Holidays can be especially stressful so don’t forget to prioritize your safety and well-being first. You, your sexual orientation and gender identity are valid and worthy of respect and my hearts with you all. We can get through this season, stay strong!

I think about Ford’s tattoo daily. (I think to think it’s on the back of the neck but I also like it on the side of his neck)

Context: Both these nerds forget about lab safety and ruin clothes at least 3 times an hour. One day after they set themselves on fire for the 5th time, Fidds finally notices Ford’s tattoo.