something you smelled

What is autism?

Autism is a natural variation of human neurology which is categorized as a developmental disability. About 1% of the worlds population is autistic. Autism is a lifelong condition meaning that autistic people are born autistic and that they will die autistic. You cannot “catch autism” or “become autistic” like you can risk becoming mentally or physically ill - neither vaccines or heavy metals or gluten will make you autistic if you aren’t born with it. You also can’t cure autism or recover from it - but all autistic people can live fulfilling, happy lives with the right accommodations so an autism diagnosis isn’t the death sentence that many people make it out to be. Autism isn’t a diagnosis which can be clearly separated from who you are and how you see the world - it affects every aspect about of how you think about, experience and interact with the world around you. There are many different aspects of being autistic which makes it hard to summarize the condition, but I’ll do my best to introduce you to some of the common autistic traits and experiences in this post.

  • Sensory processing. Autistic people’s sensory processing is different from most people’s sensory processing. This means that autistic people may be over- or undersensitive to different sensory input. This means that we may have trouble with sounds, touches, smells, tastes, etc that most people can easily tolerate or block out or that we may seek out loud music, blinking lights, bright colors, spicy food, strong smells and activities which provide physical activity and deep pressure. Many autistic people lack the filter that most people have which makes them able to block out background sounds, meaning that the ticking of a clock, the buzzing from a lamp or two people having a conversation nearby might make us unable to focus on what we’re supposed to be focusing on. This means that many autistic people will have trouble focusing in situations with lots of sensory input, for example situations where many people are gathered together, and that we are more easily overwhelmed and stressed out by different sensory input than allistic (non-autistc) people. 
  • Stimming. Stimming is short for self-stimulatory behavior, meaning a behavior which is meant to stimulate one of your senses. Some common stims are rocking back and forth, bouncing your legs or feet, hand flapping, hand wringing and repeating words and sentences, but a stim can be any kind of repeated movement or action which stimulates one of your senses. Stimming can thus be many different things - you can stim by smelling, touching, watching, moving, tasting and listening. The reason why autistic people stim is tied up in the fact that autistic people’s sensory processing tend to be atypical - when there’s a lot of overwhelming, stressing sensory input, providing your own repeated sensory input by listening to a song on repeat or rocking back or forth or smelling something you like the smell of may help you focus and calm down. Autistic people also stim to express emotions - it’s a natural part of our body language just like smiling or frowning is a natural part of most people’s body language. We may jump up and down and flap our hands when excited where most people would simply smile, or we may rock back and forth and press our hands against our faces where other people would cry. That being said, an autistic person doesn’t need a certain, deep reason for stimming - we often do it simply because it’s fun and because it feels good. 
  • Shutdowns and meltdowns. Shutdowns and meltdowns are both responses to extreme distress - they’re often caused by unpleasant, overwhelming sensory input that the autistic person in question is unable to escape, but they can also be caused by strong negative emotions. A meltdown is an outward reaction to said distress where a shutdown is an inwards reaction. An autistic person having a meltdown is a person who has reached a point where they are no longer in control of their own body - they’re experiencing an flight or fight response, so to say. An autistic person may scream, lash out, cry, smash things and run away during a meltdown. Shutdowns are another possible response to a similar situation - during those, the autistic person may become unresponsive, locked in place, unable to talk, etc. You should never get mad at autistic people or hold them responsible for having meltdowns and shutdowns - they’ve reached a place where they’re so distressed that they’re losing control of themselves and instead of distressing them further, you should help them escape or resolve what’s causing the distress - after you have given them plenty of time to calm down and recover, that is.
  • Trouble with non-verbal communication such as body language, facial expressions and tone of voice. Autism is a disability which affects communication and the ability to socialize, meaning that autistic people may have trouble reading, using and comprehending body language, facial expressions and tone of voice just like they may have trouble learning, conforming to and applying social rules. We may not be able to take a hint that someone’s not interested in talking to us just like we may not notice when someone’s interested in us romantically or sexually. We have trouble noticing when other people are bored or tired or sad or angry and we might thus often come across as uncaring or annoying in social situations. Our trouble with reading other people and seeing the nuance in their body language, facial expressions and tone of voice also means that many autistic people have trouble grasping sarcasm, irony and metaphors. 
  • Trouble with words and speech. Most autistic people have some degree of trouble with expressing their thoughts and opinions through spoken words.This is because most of us don’t naturally think in words - we may experience, think about and process the world around us in pictures or sensory experiences and we may thus have trouble transforming those input and experiences into words. We may also have trouble with the process of speaking, not because there’s something physically wrong with us but because we can have trouble with making our throats and mouths pronounce the words or because we may have trouble with going from thinking a word to succeeding with the process of actually saying it out loud. It’s common for autistic people to have periods where they aren’t able to speak - we call it going nonverbal - and some autistic people can’t speak at all. That doesn’t mean that they can’t think or communicate, though - they may instead communicate via written words, text to speech apps, facilitated typing, sign language, picture boards, etc.
  • Executive dysfunction. Executive functioning is what allows us to go from thinking about or wanting to do something to actually doing it, it’s what makes us able to keep the different steps required to complete a task straight in our heads and it’s what makes us able to plan and focus on different tasks. Autistic people often have trouble with executive functioning which makes many everyday tasks that most people can just do without thinking twice about it really hard. Imagine that you want to do laundry but your brain doesn’t automatically come up with the steps required to complete the task - take the laundry basket to the washing machine, open the washing machine, put clothes into the washing machine, add soap, etc - instead you’re just standing there, knowing that you somehow have to go from dirty laundry to clean clothes without knowing how to go about it. This is a problem for many autistic people which makes many everyday tasks hard or impossible to do without help. We may need someone to prompt us to do what we need to do or we may need someone to talk us through the steps or we may need visual or written instructions which illustrate the steps required to complete a certain task. Executive dysfunction is the main reason why many autistic people have trouble with basic, everyday tasks that most people their age can easily do without help.
  • Special interests. Many autistic people have a topic or a thing that they’re deeply, passionately interested in. Some autistic people compare having a special interest to being in love - it’s what your mind drifts to when there’s nothing else to occupy it, it’s the only thing you want to talk about, it’s the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning and it’s the last thing you think of before you fall asleep. This intense level of interest and passion often allows autistic people to excel in their areas of interest even when they may have trouble with basic everyday tasks. Some autistic people have special interests that lasts a life time, other people experience that their special interests change every couple years or maybe every couple months - or in some cases, every couple weeks. Some autistic people have one special interest at a time, other autistic people have many special interests. 
  • Routines. Since the world is often very chaotic and confusing for autistic people due to our atypical sensory processing and our struggles with executive dysfunction and social interaction, many autistic people rely on routines to create a sense of order in a confusing and chaotic world. We usually like to do the same things in the exact same way every day and if something breaks our routine or if something unexpected happens - or if somebody suggests an impulsive trip to the beach on a day where we hadn’t expected to do anything but the usual - it may result in shutdowns or meltdowns. If you want an autistic person to break or change their routine it’s recommended that you warn them in good time and that you give them plenty of time to prepare and adjust.
  • Unique points of view and different ways of thinking. Due to the fact that autistic people experience the world so differently from how most people experience it, we see the world from a different angle - often allowing us to come up with ideas or thoughts or input or solutions that you wouldn’t get anywhere else. Autistic people often have unique points of view and unusual ways or thinking and learning and this is often a strength - as we say in the autistic community, we are different, not less. 

I’ve now summarized some of the more common autistic traits and I hope that this post gave you a better understanding of what autism is and what it means to be autistic. Feel free to reblog and share this post far and wide if you found it helpful or educational.

If you’ve got the time and the inclination, what’s to stop you showing up on the hour at any lecture hall at any university and becoming the guest lecturer? Nothing, that’s what! Professors are always late and campus police don’t know the difference. All you need to do is walk in and get talking.

“What’s this class all about?” is a great opener. While you wait for someone to raise their hand and say “noses”, or “smelling”, or “science”, draw a big rectangle on the blackboard. You can always use a rectangle.

When some kid says “Last week the professor said we’d be looking neurological processing of olfactory stimuli,” you can shake your head and smile and say “just explain it to me like I’m 10 years old.”

This time they’ll definitely say “smelling”, and you can turn that rectangle on the blackboard into a truck.

“Imagine a truck,” you could say. “It’s parked on your top lip. And when you smell something, the men load up all that smelling information into the back of the truck. Who can tell me what comes next?”

Wait for them to say “they drive the truck up your nose,” then say “Exactly! They begin the perilous journey up your nose. They’ll dodge all the boogers and thick black hairs, and finally they’ll arrive at your brain.”

Next, discredit the professor who’s walked in. “You slept with a student!” is a classic for a reason. Even if he hasn’t, he won’t stick around to argue the point!

“When the truck arrives at the brain, the men unload the truck and they show all the smells to the loading dock workers. They decide whether something is a good smell or a bad smell. Sometimes, the workers get confused. Like people who think poop smells good! We’ve all got a friend like that. Who thinks that, by a show of hands?”

If no one raises their hand, you could try saying “It’s natural… how bad can a substance produced naturally by the human body be? It’s normal to be curious. What about you,” and here you want to point at someone in the front row, “you might be interested to know that I have a very natural diet. That means a great texture and aroma.”

If there are no takers, you probably still have half an hour to get to the next lecture hall. Good luck!

Panic

Request: I’m always a sucker for Bucky x reader fluff so I was wondering if I could request the reader have a panic attack, and Bucky helps them with the “5 things to do during a panic attack” “Look around you. Find 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.” thank you!

Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 1955

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, reader having a panic attack. 

A/N: WELL. I FINALLY finished this request!! I am SO SO sorry this took so freaking long!! I really hope that it was worth the wait!! Great title I know.. Thank you for all of your patience everybody!! I started working on the next parts for Arsonist’s Lullaby and This Means War but they still may take a bit! xo

Keep reading

Choi twins cooking together-
  • Saeran: [chopping onions]
  • Saeyoung: Oh no, Saeran! You're tearing up! Let me help you!
  • Saeran: Don't worry. These tears are nothing compared to the ones I've shed when you broke your promise and abandoned me years ago.

@piierogi : hey what do I smell like? *holds out arm*
me: *sniffs pii’s wrist once, then starts kissing around her wrist and hand … for like 30 seconds*
pii: ….well?
me: what? *continues to smooch*
pii: Zen, what do I smell like??
me: oh, sorry- I got distracted. ….*smooches more*
pii: ZEN

Shower/Bath time

You have to make sure your little is clean and cuteeee! It’s important that you help them clean themselves, they’re little so they can’t do it. You need to make sure they’re comfortable with you looking at them, especially since they’re vulnerable. They feel self conscious having a person look at their body.

-Temperature: Make sure the water isn’t too hot or cold. You want them to feel comfortable and have an environment to play with.

-Toys: If your little is taking a bath, have some things around for them to play with. Things like floating toys, bathroom paint, and bubble bath. Littles love bubbles so make sure its the best kind ;)

-Supplies: You don’t need to get a lot of fancy, expensive bathroom supplies. They’re littles, if you get something that smells good you can use use it on them. Also, make sure to get (or make) soap in a rag. Its the cleanest way to use soap. Plus it’ll look cute with a pig or frog on it.

After the shower/bath: Your little will be super cold not matter the temperature of the water. And sometimes, they don’t want to get out. You’ll need to have a warm towel around to keep them warm but dry. Once they’re wrapped in the towel, hug them to make them a little warmer. Carry them to their room and help them get dressed.

I love you all so much and have a wonderful night.

300 words or less

Mission: Either pick a starter (or 2 or 3 or 1500) or have people ask you to write a small thing in 300 words or less in response.  You (or your followers) can pick whether you make it angsty or fluffy or smutty or whatever and who you’re writing about. Feel free to add starters!

Starters:
“I can’t sleep without you here…”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’m not okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“I’m leaving…and I’m not coming back.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“I never meant for it to go this far.”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I’m never going to leave you.”
“Shh, you’re safe now.”
“I can’t remember the last time I was happy.”
“I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”
“Great, how are we supposed to get home now?”
“I hope you like scary movies!”
“You’re not gonna cry, are you?”
“I got the call last night…”
“Wow, I guess you really are that ticklish.”
“I tried to surprise you, but I spilled your coffee on the way over…”
“Do you wanna get out of here?”
“Did you hear something?”
“Shh, I think I hear something.”
“You smell really nice.”
“I wish you would talk to me.”
“I need you to talk to me.”
“Can you hear me?”
“Please don’t do this…”
“You won’t miss me.”
“I wish I never met you.”
“I wish I met you sooner.”
“You wanna go back to my place?”
“You should think about what you’ve done.”

 Ten.

It began with gold lined chandeliers and red stained lips, the cacophony of heels crashing down on pristine, smooth marble as the tendrils of a piano inflection rose in the distance.

Her fingers were digging into his waist as he spun her around and around and around, cinched around the fabric of his robes as her vision blurred, turned into a haze of silver and steel while they rotated the room.

She felt something gather underneath her skin, unrelenting, ruthless, vicious––unadulterated power pooling like toxic through her bloodstream.

The chandelier trembled.

“Let us rise together,” he whispered in her ear.

.

Nine.

Immortality dripped from him fingertips, dark and as thick as blood and she watched as it trickled down the underside of his wrist, stark against his skin as he skated his teeth across his thumb, mouth stained a bright, tainted red.

There once was a girl who would have run at the sight–the doe eyed girl with chrysalis like naivety with gold lined dreams, who stood still as the world fell around her, throat locked in a silent scream as it crumbled in an onslaught of spilled blood and rust stained coronets, monarchies colliding as the dust sprinkled, caked it in dirt and dried salt, until it all was nothing.

That girl was dead.

She set her teeth to glass and watched immortality drench her lips in a gleam of ichor and salt, watched it seep through her veins like sin.

.

Eight.

Her lips were painted a crystalline, shimmering pink that gleamed underneath the sunlight in streaks of glitter and gold, eyeliner smeared in a precise curve and she sighed against his shoulder blades, hummed across the third button of his shirt, carefully unbuttoned so the sharp of his collarbones glinted.

“What do you want?” he whispered, threaded his hand in hers as they passed shops, bakeries, felt the world surge in a blur of movement and violet tinted skies untethered chaos and a unified beat that pushed onward, onward still that was on the verge of stilling.

He could sense it, the fear, stark in the air like oxygen harshening just before the pour.

“Everything,” she said, and there was a moment, a split second where she held his gaze, relentless, vicious, and a thought grazed his mind, i did this, i did this, i did––

He could see demons coiling dark underneath the lining of sunlight bleeding through atmosphere in a burst of incandescence like a falling crown, of angels spiraling in a vicious haze of glory, halos tilted towards the ground before the fallout, a immaculate, glittering prism shattering at the velocity; chaos lingering in the air like the the click of a bullet pushed in place, the split second before annihilation tears through the barricade, constellations obliterating, rattling, as she unleashes it all.

.

Seven.

Her lips were chapped.

She licked them and tasted the familiar acridness of steel slicing through mouth as she swallowed, blood dripping down in a straight trickle of scorched salt across her skin as she stood in the midst of ash and fire and smoke.

“Darling,” Tom said, the pristine sweep of his robes swiping against disintegrating marble, heel crushing down–harder, harder until it shattered.

“I need–” Hermione swallowed emptiness, cold, harsh oxygen, let it cut through her throat. “I need to breathe.”

He shifted closer, threaded his fingers through the waves of her hair and she inhaled the thick, heady scent of blood seeping through veins through his skin and the sharp, sharp hint of spearmint embedded in the slope of his throat tilted upward, and she could see his pulse pounding across his skin, stretched taut against skin, like an ancient, ancient drumbeat that signified the end–sky collapsing in a vigorous, amplifying cry as the sea falls along with it, drowns the world in salt and ash and that of obliterating comets, incinerating stars spiraling in an endless, bottomless downfall.

I could kill you, she thought, imagining slashing his throat open, watching his eyes still wide, wandering as blood ran down his skin, coated the battlefield in fresh, smearing remains. I could kill you.

“Yes,” he whispered against her throat. “You don’t think I don’t know what game you’re playing, darling?”

“The end,” she said. “The end must come.”

“No,” he said, twisting her wand until it pressed against the flesh of his throat, a pale strip of smooth, smooth skin that she wanted, god, wanted to run her teeth over until it bruised, wanted– “First, retribution.”

“Do you love me, Hermione?” he hissed, pressed it deeper, deeper still.

“Tom,” she began.

“I would burn the world for you,” he said. “I would turn it all into ashes if it meant you were mine.”

No,” she hissed, low and vicious. “You would burn the world all on your own.”

“And you would love me anyway,” he said, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips, and she wanted to tear him apart, watch his throat open and nothing but blood and beautiful, glorious lies spill out until there was nothing but emptiness, wanted him to press her against plaster, wall cutting into her shoulder blades, mouth lining mine mine mine.

She pressed the wand deeper into his skin until it scorched at his skin, but he didn’t flinch at the sparks flying into his artery, at her wand dangerously cutting off his air supply.

“Kill me,” he said, and in one swift, fluid motion, snatched the time tuner caught in the folding of her robes and snapped it in half, twisted the wand until the force hit her like a sucker punch her ribs––watched as time shifted into place, air trembling until it held her down, locked her throat like steel anchoring her ribcage towards the ground, gravity tethering her in place as if her blood had shifted to mercury––poison sharp through her veins.

She screamed.

The sound echoed stark through the air, across silence, until all she could feel was static against her throat in electric, crackling waves as panic set in because she could never, ever get back.

“Was that not your purpose, girl from the future?” he said, calm, so eerily calm. “Kill me, Hermione Granger.”

Her fingers closed around his throat, watched veins close and sputter and blood rush underneath her nails in an onslaught of forming bruises, lavender black under her touch.

The agony began to set in now, it was like four thousand shreds of shrapnel slicing into her chest at exhale, running against her ribs, across her spine, splits against her lungs until her breath comes in harsh, faltering bursts, because she remembered–of a boy with glittering emerald eyes that glinted underneath the luminescence of his Expelliarmus, scorching red sparks landing against his skin as the tendons of his jaw snapped, the end, the end, the end she felt the ground shift beneath her feet, salt staining her cheeks, coating her hair in a pattern of drenched, dripping anticipation––her throat locking up as she tilted her head up, the end, the end, the end––

“What do you want?” she said.

“All of you,” he said, dragging long fingers down the side of her face. “Always, always you.”

She pressed a hand to his chest, felt it glow red hot against the fabric of his robes, singe off the seal until it was falling, spiraling ash.

Hermione felt something deep in her twist, incinerate with the unraveling of her veins, of a hollowness buried beneath her ribcage stir and shift with every hiss of oxygen from beneath teeth. Control, control it murmured, vicious, venomous.

The world she once knew had vanished, all that was left was the scent of smoke and the memory that once, once she had stood still as it all fell, silence eroding across atmosphere like a sharp, sharp afterthought.

Hermione raised her hand, sent raw, crackling power from her arteries towards the ground; rage glistening in the intensity of four thousand seething suns, her blood boiling and bursting as fire bloomed from around them like blossoms from cracked pavement, flames blazing brighter, brighter still as she clenched her teeth and extended her fingers until the scent of burning corpses filled the air, splitting down on her lip as she ignited the ruins around them and watched them evaporate to nothing but salt and glitter and dust.

“There,” she said. “There.

The wand pressed against his throat dropped, and a smile graced Tom’s mouth.

.

Six.

And it all happened a split second, with Dumbledore’s  wand angled at Tom so bright, bright green shot out of his wand like the crackle of gunfire and surged towards his chest, buttons open to reveal inches of pale, milky white skin along the slope of his neck, and she was rushing forward before logic could anchor her to the ground, muscles snapping, splintering as she shifted, faster, faster––

“No!” she screamed, extended her hand out and watched Dumbledore’s body enveloped in flames, flickering underneath the fading gleam of dusk approaching, splitting through the universe in a blur of amber and rose tinted gold, setting the horizon in a sea of shadows.

Save the world, she remembered, memory cutting through her mind like a dull, rusting butter knife through skin, and it bruises, slices at her ribcage; of time and the spaces between seconds, save the world, Dumbledore had said, save yourself.

She let it play in the background in a never ending mantra, save the world, save yourself, save the world, save yourself, save–––

And then her fingers were digging into his hair, inhaling salt and steel and blood as her thumb grazed the bruises left on his throat, battered and the violet-blue of split open veins, of nails pressed against arteries until blood runs to the surface, pools against the expansion of throat, her name etched on the surface, mine mine mine.

His lips collided onto hers, teeth on the edge of her mouth and there’s something tearing at the edge of her chest, glass splintering across the expansion of her ribcage, cut me open, it murmured, cut me open and set me ablaze. And her waist were closing onto his, hip bones sharp, stark as she pinned them down, red crescent marks lingering across bruised veins and his mouth is trailing a tantalizing path down the slope of her throat tilted upwards, skin gleaming underneath the fading of light streaming through bodies and snapped, splintered wands, through burst open insides, torn, unraveled hearts in a straight, immaculate line, drenched in gasoline smearing against dust.

The pillar of smoke grew higher, burned at her throat, scorched at her lungs.

Save the world, save yourself.

.

Five.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Her throat was raw and bloody as she screams, lungs clenching as she tilts her head to stare up at him, retinas bloodshot, veins apparent––violet and purple and ink black underneath the translucent skin stretched taut beneath her eyes, and there’s the chaotic ascend of thick, thick hair just above her shoulder blades, fingernails drawn tight against the fabric of her skirt, and god, he thought, god––

“You thought,” he said, edge of his mouth curling up. “You thought you could save me.”

“You’re a monster,” she hissed, shifting so a distance was placed between them, and he could almost feel magic running, dark, raw, vigorous, through her bloodstream–––like the crackle of electricity coursing through a circuit, of spilled blood gleaming underneath streetlights, a line of bodies across pavement.

“Aren’t we all?” he said.

.

Four.

She remembered, it comes back in dreams and pieces like shattered glass––of a boy with coke bottle glasses and green eyes, how he fell. It plays in slow motion, almost, the end, of magic slamming into his chest like a sucker punch, wand tumbling from between his fingertips as he descended, how grief had cut into her chest like the edge of rusting, dull knife, sawing against the outline of her ribcage until she screamed.

Even heroes fall, the silhouettes whisper, in vivid, sharp visions that linger like an salt dripping wound––skin sliced open, blood pooling at her surface, ten million lacerations.

The end, the end, the end, she remembered.

.

Three.

“Mudblood,” Abraxas hissed between clenched teeth, inched closer so she could almost taste the acrid of his breath.

Don’t,” she said, tugging on the cuff of Tom’s pristine, buttoned suit jacket until her mouth brushed the outline of his ear. “You’re better than that.”

“Did you hear me, mudblood?” Abraxas continued. “I wasn’t aware spreading your legs had a correlation with your hearing.”

Her head tilted up, muscles and sinew snapping, splitting until her teeth are running across her bottom lip until her canines cut against flesh and there was the taste of blood and steel and rust eroded her mouth, salt scraping against canines.

She extended her hand and pressed it across the slope of his throat and sent magic through her veins, watched his skin split as she drew her fingers back, arteries splintering underneath her touch as blood spilled, sloshed over the velvet carpet, seeped through the floorboards, like lies from a red stained mouth, connotations, denotations spiraling from between sharp, sharp teeth.

Don’t,” she whispered, “ever say that word again.”

Abraxas drew back, breathless, a trail of blood smearing the edge of his chin.

“Say it,” Tom said, pinning, magic slammed across the inside of the Abraxas’ chest, insides writhing, trembling as she ran her fingertips across the slope of his collarbone, the expansion of gleaming skin until his veins stuttered and groaned against the downward tilt of his spine snapping towards the fixation of chandelier incandescent and silver tinted glitter before she bent down and whispered softly, “Don’t.”

There was a sliver of crimson near the edge of his jaw, he couldn’t tell if it was lipstick or just blood.

.

Two.

“Mine,” he said, fingers digging into her hipbones, hard enough to brand her with purple and violet blue marks that lingered in her skin for the days in the aftermath.

It was always before and after, before, of when she first saw his face under the gleam of sunlight beaming across the glass of the time turner–––eyes dark, ruthless–––the kind of boy who would tear your heart out of your chest with sharp, brilliant teeth, mouth brushing over your chest in a fleeting millisecond of sin and glory  and watch your insides spill onto pavement, the kind of boy that comes with warning signs, neon embedded underneath skin, danger danger danger, tires screeching against asphalt like the beginning of a car crash.

And after, when it felt almost like familiarity––of holding a knife to her throat until all she could feel was steel splitting skin, of relief.

.

One.

“You,” he said the first time he saw her, as if he knew her. “It’s you.”

.

Zero.

“Save the world,” the portrait said, voice soft, eyes bright, bright blue––so bright that it obliterated at her retinas when she raised her chin, salt trickling down skin and seeping into her mouth until all she could taste was grief. She could feel the time turner cutting into her palm, leaving red, red marks along her bones, felt it tick, tick, time blurring away until it was nothing, it is nothing, she thought, teeth digging into her bottom lip with such fervor that blood burst across her mouth, time is nothing, when you are the only one left.

“Save yourself.”

.

Negative One.

.

It ended with green eyed boys with hair whipping in every direction as the wind serrated into her lungs, with wand held tight in their fist in a last fit of foolish, foolish hope, knuckles stark white against the backdrop of blood and gore and death––settling over them like a sea of silhouettes.

Of red haired boys with their fingers carded in her hair, whispering, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry as if it meant anything but I’m sorry it had to end like this, I’m sorry this is the end., like a confession.

She exhaled, feeling something stutter and still at the sounds, of screaming, of crying, of the silence that followed––a sharp, vicious burst of forced calm, it dripped and drenched her surroundings in venom, set her heart into overdrive.

There was nothing more terrifying than silence.

And she watched him, his back as he walked, shoulder blades tilted back, head held high towards the end, and it would haunt her dreams, linger in her vision in a barrage of incandescent, scorching color, playback in slow motion like a broken tape, nebulous, blurred until the end, of blood smeared across the expanse of his cheek, droplets sharp, stark, clarity tearing at the edge of her chest like a surge of raw, raw electricity,, of  the scent of salt thick across her lungs when oxygen escaped from between her teeth –––of when he looked back.

“Let us fall together,” he said.










A Sweet Dare

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: language, fluff, crack (not the drug guys…)

Word count: 931

Summary: Dean tries to change the reader’s opinion on something that is very very important to him…

A/N: This fic was not planned whatsoever. I had this idea and simply had to write it down. I hope you like it!

Originally posted by devoiddean

“You can’t be serious Y/N!” Dean hollered at you.

“Dean… so what? You’re totally overreacting!” you rolled your eyes in annoyance. The older Winchester had a tendency to be overprotective when it came to things he loved dearly but enough was enough.

He put his hand on his hip like an offended middle aged women with hot rollers in her hair. His eyebrows shot up as he opened his mouth to continue on with his rant.

“Umm, I personally don’t think I’m overreacting at all. In fact Y/N, my entire view on you just changed. I don’t get how you could ever say something like that?! Seriously, I’ve never met someone who thinks the way you do. I currently doubt whether or not you’re even friggin human!”

“DEAN! Just calm the fuck down! It’s just my opinion. You can have your own. Can’t we simply agree to disagree? This is getting ridiculous…” with open arms you took a step towards him but all he did was putting his index finger up, signaling that he was nowhere near done.

“You. said. that. pie. tastes. gross,” Dean punctuated every word as if doing that would make you understand why he was reacting the way he did. Of course, you knew how much he loved pie but you simply didn’t. Why was he making such a big deal out of it?

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Big Takeaways from The Silmarillion
  • never swear an oath 
  • no, seriously, you’ll either break it in the most terrible way or adhere to it at immense cost to yourself and everyone you love 
  • incest is bad (but it’s e v e r y w h e r e) 
  • don’t be afraid to get glasses if you need them 
  • stay the fuck away from the sons of fëanor 
  • as a general rule pissing off the valar is a bad idea 
  • if you smell something fishy chances are it’s sauron 
  • if your fate sucks it sucks and there’s nothing you can do about it 
    • that being said maybe try not to kill your best friend or marry your sister 

 And finally, if you want to live: 

  • stick close to galadriel and IGNORE ALL OTHER ELVES
When I Look at You {Percival Graves x Reader}

Requests are open!

Prompt: @effleurermonamourgravel : Just a really fluffy cute one about Graves x reader?? it’s up to you what it should be about <3

A/N: I linked a song for the romantic scene be sure to check it out.

Warnings: none

Originally posted by talking-limbo

You came home from work and crashed onto the mattress. Within in five minutes, you fell asleep. You woke up what felt like only twenty minutes later. The door opening woke you with a start. Percival stood in the doorway. He was slowly backing away and closing the door but you were already awake and sitting up.

“I’m so sorry..”

“No, it’s alright. I wasn’t getting much sleep anyway,” the exhaustion was apparent as you spoke. Percy walked over to the bed, kicked off his shoes, and shuffled under the blankets. 

“What are you doing?” you mumbled. He didn’t answer, instead, he wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“I know you had a rough day at work so you stay here, I’ll let you know when I’m done.” He got up and dashed out of the room leaving you laying in bed confused. 

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what if I made a modern au where instead of lighting people on fire arvis went on to pursue his true passion for finding good barbecue

‘WHAT UP JUGDRAL this is ARVIS OF VELTHOMER coming at you straight from belhalla FLAVOURTOWN for another episode of TAVERNS, INNS AND ALEHOUSES’

tip one: reposting vs. reblogging

Reblogging leaves credit to the original poster, and is the correct way to share something that you enjoy. Reposting is when you save, screenshot or copy something and create a new post it. So what if there’s a really great post you found somewhere outside of tumblr that you want to share here, or vice versa? Reposting is okay if, and only if, you have the authors express permission and clearly credit them in your post. People work hard, don’t steal their stuff! 

tip two: captions

Do not delete original captions. It makes it much harder to find the original author. In cases like mentioned above where someone has reposted something properly, deleting the caption deletes the credit completely. 

Also, never add a meaningless comment to a post to promote your blog. Why is this not cool? Well, for one it’s trying to gain followers based on someone else’s work instead of your own, but it’s also against community guidelines. Skip these types of captions and focus on gaining traffic through your own original posts.

tip three: reblogging things without a caption/that have been reposted

If you smell something fishy don’t spread the post around! If there’s a caption-less post that seems like it should have one (or it has a long string of promotional captions), click back to the original source and reblog from them. If there’s something that just seems too perfect, check out their blog and see if their original content matches up, or just seems like a collection of random photos from other people’s instagrams. If so, don’t reblog!

tip four: tags

When you shouldn’t tag something: If it’s hate, please don’t tag the fandom in it! It’s fine if you didn’t like a book/movie/show, but fans want to scroll through that tag and see positive posts about it, not hate. Another one is if it’s not relevant; for original posts. It’s great to add a lot of tags to get it out there, but if someone is looking through the math tag, they want help with math and not to see a picture of your cat (however cute he may be).

When you should alway tag things: For people’s blacklist. Things like sexual or violent/disturbing pictures should always be tagged with nsfw. Spoilers should also be tagged! You don’t wanna be the one that tells some one that SPOILER darth vader is luke’s father.

tip five: be kind, always

The internet makes it easy to say things without consequences, but just because you don’t say it to someone’s face doesn’t mean it can’t hurt them. Anon hate, rude comments, and picking fights over trivial things is never okay. Be respectful and kind. The internet already has enough negativity, don’t add to it. 

Unexpected Surprise Part 1

Summary: Reader is pregnant with Jensen’s baby but doesn’t know if he wants children.

Warning: None

Words:2500 ish

Pairing: Reader x Jensen, Jared x Gen

This is my first story so feedback is 100% welcome!

Looking down at those two pink lines you couldn’t help but worry about what your husband was going to say when you told him the news. You knew he loved being around Tom and Shep but you had no idea on whether he wanted children of his own or not. After sitting there for what seemed like an eternity you call Gen.

“Hello?” She said as she answered the phone.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” You could hear the concern in her voice, but you couldn’t say anything.

You started crying.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Everything will be ok.” Then she hung up the phone.

About ten minutes later you heard your front door close and heard Gen calling out your name. Coming out from the bathroom you seen her with concern and worry all over her face.

“Are you ok?” She asked as she held your arms out trying to look you over and then hugging you.

“I don’t know what to do.” You said wiping away tears from your face.

You held out the pregnancy test then went to sit in the living room. Gen followed while looking down at what you had just handed her. When she reached the couch she just looked at you with a smile on her face.

“You’re pregnant?!” she said as she pulled you in for a hug.

“Yeah, but I don’t know if Jensen wants to keep it.” You said pulling back from Gen.

“Of course he wants to keep it!”

“I don’t know we’ve never talked about having kids. I know he absolutely adores Tom and Shep, but what if he doesn’t want his own child?”

“Well I guess the only way you’re going to find out is if you ask. Just bring it up in a conversation like it’s no big deal and then you’ll have your answer. What if we go up and surprise the guys with dinner and then one of us just starts talking about babies. That way it isn’t all on you?” She asks looking through the calendar on her phone.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that Gen. It’s not easy to travel with 2 boys.” You say hoping she will agree with you.

“Well you aren’t asking; I’m offering and its settled. We will leave first thing tomorrow.” She says matter of factly.

You sigh knowing there is no use in arguing with her. She even more stubborn than Jensen is. “Ok, I guess I better go pack. Thank you Gen, you really are a great friend.” You tell her as you hug her and follow her to the door.

After she pulls out of the driveway you head upstairs and start to pack. You look at the clock and are happy to see that it says 10 o’ clock. With everything packed except for your makeup and shower necessities you quickly change into your pajamas and crawl into bed.

You are awoken by the sudden feeling of nausea. Great you couldn’t have been one of the few lucky women that didn’t have morning sickness. You throw your legs over the bed and run straight to the bathroom. When you’ve emptied the entire contents of your stomach you head back into your bedroom and look at the clock 6:45.

“Well there’s not point in getting back in bed.” You say to yourself.

Making your way over to your closet you grab some leggings and an oversized t-shirt. Quickly changing your clothes and then grabbing your converse to throw on before heading over to Gen’s to help her with the boys.

When you get in your car your mind starts to wonder what it would be like to have a baby.

You imagine it having amazing green eyes like Jensen along with his perfect smile. Seeing Jensen look at it with complete adoration and love.

You want to have this baby you think to yourself as you get closer to Gen’s house. You just hope that Jensen feels the same.

As you walk up to their door you hear Tom and Shep holler about how excited they are to see their dad and uncle Jensen. When you hear their tiny little voices, you can’t help but smile as you slowly open the door and find Gen. She’s in the kitchen putting the boys snacks together for the flight to Vancouver.

“Did you manage to get any sleep last night?” Gen asked while putting some baby carrots into a plastic bag.

“I actually slept really well until about 6. I woke up and felt so nauseas. It was over pretty fast though so that’s always a plus.” You told her while getting yourself a bottle of water from the fridge.

“The boys seem pretty excited to see Jared. Did you tell him we were coming?”

“I actually did not tell him. I just told him to make sure he was home later because the boys wanted to surprise him with something.”

You were surprised she hadn’t told Jared that you all were coming. Getting her to keep something from Jared was usually a difficult task, but you were relieved when she had said she didn’t say anything. Now you just had to think of a way to find out if a baby is something Jensen wanted.

You were finally boarding the plane and the boys were busy coloring pictures that they were going to give to Jared when they see him this evening when Gen finally got to relax.

“So have you figured out how you’re going to ask him?” She said while sipping on her orange juice.

“I thought about having you ask when we thought we were going to start having kids. I would obviously wait for him to answer and then go from there.” You told her with hoping she would be willing to help you out.

“That’s brilliant! It’s causal and totally something I would say.” She said smiling and squeezing your hand.

“I still don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think Jensen wants kids, even if he hasn’t said anything.”

The rest of the flight was quiet as you looked out the window and thought about what it would be like to have a family with Jensen. Seeing him throw them onto the bed and listen to them laugh while he tickled them. If it was a girl seeing him play dress up and have a tea party in the backyard or if it was a boy seeing them wrestle around outside watching the little boy be amazed by how strong his daddy was and wanting to be just like him when he grew up.

When you landed, and had grabbed your bags you ran straight to the bathroom. Ugh why does this have to happen now? I couldn’t have waited 20 minutes for us to get to the house. You had hoped no one was in the restroom listening as you had suffered through another spell of morning sickness; it was embarrassing enough having to vomit in public. When you had rinsed your mouth out and popped a piece of gum in your mouth you walked back out to Gen and the boys who looked like they were ready for a nap.

“All set?” Gen asked picking up their bags

“Yup, I can’t wait to get home and take a nap.” You said as you grabbed Sheps hand and started walking toward the car waiting for you.

When you guys had arrived at the Padalecki’s house in Vancouver you asked Gen where you could put your stuff until you went over to Jensen’s apartment later that evening after dinner. She showed you to a guest room and then went downstairs leaving you alone to get settled in. After you had unpacked some of your things you laid down on the bed and fell asleep. When you had woken up it was almost 7 so you headed downstairs to help Gen fix dinner.

As you headed into the kitchen you smelled something amazing. Looking into the oven you seen that Gen had put some chicken in the oven. Hoping there was something you could help her with you sat on a stool and waited for her to come back.

“You look rested.” She said as she walked into the kitchen.

“I feel so much better. Is there anything I can do to help?” You said watching her stir the pot of green beans.

“You could finish peeling the potatoes. They’re over there on the table.” Heading over to the table you were growing anxious about seeing Jensen. Hopefully preparing dinner would take your mind off things, for a little while anyway.

Just as you were setting the green beans and mashed potatoes on the table Gen got a call from Jared saying they were almost to home so the boys could show him their ‘surprise’. So you went upstairs to freshen up and try to calm down.

When you went back downstairs Jared and Jensen were standing in the entry way with huge smiles on their faces as they hugged Tom and Shep. You were able to sneak past them when they had their backs turned and run off to the kitchen. You see that Gen was getting the boys’ drinks so you go over and get everyone else’s drinks and set them on the table. When Jared and Jensen brought the boys in you turned around and he seen you. You locked eyes with your amazingly handsome husband, his deep green eyes staring straight at you. you looked down at your feet and slowly pushed a piece of hair out of your face as he made his way over to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug before kissing you sweetly on the lips.

“Hi.” He said smiling against your lips.

“Surprise.” You said looking up at him.

“This is a great surprise.” He says right before releasing you from his embrace.

“Dinners ready!” Gen says after she hugs Jared.

Everyone sits down at the huge table and then Jared goes to make a toast and you panic. Looking over at Gen hoping she can see the panic in your eyes. Thankfully she can and she quickly grabs her water glass as well so you aren’t the only one.

“To family.” Jared says lifting his wine

“To family.” The rest of us say in unison, clinking glasses before we all take a drink.

After the toast the food begins to make its way around the table and soon everyone has been served and conversation begins.

“So how was the flight?” Jared asks after taking a bit of chicken

“It wasn’t too bad. The boys were occupied almost the whole way here so Y/N and I were able to relax and chat.” Gen says to her husband who is attentively listening to every word she says.

“Yeah and the airport wasn’t crazy like I was expecting either.” You added before taking a bite of chicken. Which you quickly regretted as you were running to the bathroom.

Jensen looks at Gen and Jared with a worried look on his face.

“I’ll go check on her.” Gen tells his before he has a chance to get up from his chair.

Knocking on the bathroom door Gen asks if she can come in. “Yeah. It’s unlocked.” You say before vomiting again.

“There’s an extra toothbrush in the cabinet if you want to brush your teeth. There’s also some mouth wash.” She says while holding your hair back and rubbing your back.

“Thanks Gen.” Flushing the toilet and bringing the lid down so you can sit for a minute.

“I’m going to have to tell him aren’t I?” You say as you look up at Gen.

“Yeah I think so, because he looked really worried when you took off running in here.”

“Ok. Will you send him in here?” You ask her as you begin to brush your teeth.

Before you heard her answer she was already out the door.

About 2 minutes later there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N, baby can I come in?”

“Yeah you can come in.”

When he opened the door, he seen you sitting on the edge of the tub. With mascara running down your cheeks, evidence that you’d been crying. Making his way over to you he pushed your hair out of your face.

“Baby what’s wrong?” He said sitting down beside you.

“I have to tell you something and I want you to wait until I’m finished before you say anything.”

“Ok.”

“Your promise?”

“Yes baby.”

Grabbing his hands, you look up at him summoning every ounce of courage in your body.

“I’m pregnant.” You pause for a minute looking for an indication of whether you should continue. When he just looks at you, you decide that its ok to proceed.

“I know we haven’t talked about if we want children or not, but I want this baby.” You tell him as you reach over and touch your belly.

He watches as you touch your stomach and then he does something completely unexpected. H reaches out and touches your belly and begins to smile.

“Were having a baby?!” He says. His smile almost splitting his face in two.

You feel a calmness wash over you as you realize that he wants this too.

“Yes!” you say as he pulls you into a hug. “I took a test yesterday. I took a few of them actually.”

“I’m gonna be a dad!” He jumps up pulling you into him as he kisses you. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“You’re going to be a great dad baby.” You tell him as he pulls you through the house back to the kitchen.

When the two of you reappear in the kitchen everyone is looking at the excitement on your faces and they’re becoming curious. All except for Gen she already knows the good news.

“Were having a baby!” Jensen announces before being drug into a huge hug from Jared.

Gen comes over giving you a hug.

“I told you he would be happy.” She said giggling into your ear.

“I know. I guess I should’ve listened. It could’ve saved me a lot of worrying.” You said smiling back at her as the hug ended.

“Congratulations man.” Jared told Jensen as their embrace came to an end.

“You’re going to be a great mom Y/N.” Jared told you as he wrapped his huge arms around you.

“Thanks Jared.”

When Jared releases you, you turn around and see Jensen looking at you. It was like he was seeing you for the first time and he was studying everything about you. The way your eyes looked when you smiled, or how you always tilted your head back when you were laughing at something.

Walking over to him you wrap your arms around his waist and look up into his beautiful green eyes. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” You tell him before giving him a light kiss on the lips.

@winchesterenthusiast @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @waytooinlovewithdeanwinchester @supernatural-jackles @chaos-and-the-calm67 @deanwinchesterxreader @jensenimagines @winchester-writes @winchestersupernatural @scorpiongirl1 @d-s-winchester @kasimagines @letsgetyourdeanon @spn-and-daddy-issues @babypieandwhiskey