wonders of salt

“i’m gonna marry you.”

it’s not the first time kara’s said it, but lena feels her cheeks flush anyways. she focuses on the road in front of her, the feel of the steering wheel underneath suddenly sweaty palms. 

“alright, dear.” lena takes a chance side-glance at her girlfriend and finds kara all soft smiles, something secret and intimate brewing between the two of them. 

“alright,” kara repeats. she turns, palm under her head and elbow on the door as the open breeze whips her golden curls around. the moment feels new, feels real. lena turns up the radio and smiles, wishes for time to come to a standstill. 

.

“i’m gonna marry you.”

kara’s breath is hot against her ear and lena can feel their heartbeats syncing as one. she breathes deep through her nose, runs her fingers through damp hair. kara lounges on her chest and seems content to just lie there forever - and lena doesn’t really mind. kara is made from the stars and lena holds the universe on her chest. 

“and i’m gonna marry you.” lena whispers this into the night air, the room still sticky with heat. there’s a hitch in kara’s breath, slight, subtle, but a hitch nonetheless. 

“i look forward to it.” a wet kiss is placed below lena’s jaw then, followed by a trail of more hungry ones, and lena holds onto broad shoulders, wonders what salt tastes like on a hungry tongue. 

.

“i’m gonna marry you.” kara says it like she’s going to make a stop at the grocery and is asking lena what kind of milk she wants. 

this time, there’s no surprise, only the warmth of familiarity that seeps through lena’s veins at those words of endearment. 

“i know,” lena jokes. she doesn’t look up from the email that she’s typing up. “tmz is doing a countdown for the big proposal.”

across the living room, kara sticks her tongue out at her and rolls her eyes. lena continues to type and for a while, the only sounds of the apartment are the click clack of a keyboard and the shuffling of kara’s papers. 

“you’d still say yes, right?” 

lena looks up momentarily. “what?” she asks. 

there’s a hesitancy to the slope of kara’s shoulders. “you would still say yes, right? if i asked to marry you?”

lena lets out a soft laugh - nothing intimidating or loud, just soft - and sits back in her chair, catches her girlfriend’s honest gaze with her own, “my dear, i’d follow you to the ends of the universe and back, you know that.”

this seems to soothe kara, who returns back to her books at hand. “alright,” she says as she pushes up her glasses. “just checking.”

.

“i’m gonna marry you.” 

kara is crying, big, uncontrollable silent sobs down her cheeks. lena feels her own eyes well up in return; seeing kara in all her sadness never made for a dry eye between the both of them. 

kara lies on the deo bed under sunlamps. and lena luthor is a child prodigy, a genius billionaire, a nobel peace prize winner and a forbes 30 under 30, but she will never understand the deepness of kara’s sorrow, the cuts and the space that kara’s mind occupies where no sunlight can reach. she tries. lena tries hard, and it’s times like these where she can only do so much but hold kara’s hand a pray for the sunrise to come quick. 

lena’s mouth is dry when she speaks. “you’re gonna marry me,” she whispers, urges, promises, “you’re gonna marry me, and i’m gonna marry you, and you’re gonna have something steady to call your own.”

kara cries harder at this, tears streaming and silent heaves, but it’s enough. it’s enough for now, and it’s a promise of forever. 

.

“i’m gonna marry you.”

and kara does. kara and lena exchange vows under a setting sun with matching bracelets on their arms and a song in their hearts and kara and lena marry each other when the world is turning into a new day and their beginning is just reaching the first page. lena marries kara and they sit on a rooftop at the end of the night, look into the constellations of stars and eons and legends and they find a home among the infinite, a peace among the unknown. 

.

Remember when The Avengers came out and everyone was like “Black Widow is awesome! We want a Black Widow movie!” and Marvel was like “Sure…we’ll get right on that…eventually…”

Remember when Batman v Superman came out and everyone was like “Wonder Woman is awesome! We want a Wonder Woman movie!” and DC was like “Lol same! We’re making it right now!”

3

YOU GUYS CHRIS AND SCARLETT… Idk about you all but Im about to do backflips here!!! I know, I know…it’s just tabloids blah blah rumours…but my inner shipper heart is gonna come out and fangirl at this!!! Enjoy this wonderful grain of evansson salt ;)

this is my shelf in the living room its where i keep all of my prized posessions. most of them are things my sister bought me (bless her)

i got the pride flag at the huge march in seattle the day after gay marriage was legalized in the us.

not pictured: another su poster and a huge amazing print of stevonnie. my sister is constantly buying me stuff shes the best but im running out of Space

also.. just a fun fact… this is directly in front of the window to my apartment so everyone can see How Gay I Am

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Pepper: Salt’s not in it, so I don’t care!

Salt: Omg, like, same!

Pickel: Season one was… Interesting, and I don’t really want to do another one.

Bomb: W-well I w-w-wanted to g-get into s-s-season two. It l-looks v-v-very exciting.

OJ: Well, I don’t really have a reason to be in season two. I won season one, so obviously I don’t need to be in season two.

Paper: Season one left me with enough trauma, so, I’m good.

Paper: Plus, I met my best friend because of it, so I can’t really gain much else.

OJ: Aww, dude.

eeddis  asked:

I've just realized that depending on how you're doing the salt thing I could be gentry-proof because I have a heart condition (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) that requires I eat a LOT of salt. (Other electrolytes too--which makes me wonder, is it only table salt in your 'verse or do other salts work too?) My tears are actually so salty that it's painful to cry. Best of all, POTS is common in young adults--about 1% of teens have it and plenty college age people never grow out of it.

Only crystalline salt would keep them at bay; tears, soy sauce, brine, and other liquids wouldn’t. But on the other hand, if you were dedicated enough to collect your tears and simmer them down till only the salt remained, I imagine that would be far more powerful than pink Himalayan whateverthefuck.

Kiss my tears away

  • Saeran: (closes eyes and tries to chill for 5 whole seconds)
  • Saeran: I cannot.

anonymous asked:

Hmm, I know salt is one of the keys to protecting yourself and your stuff. But I was wondering if salt can protect you just as it is, or can it also protect you if it was added/mixed into something? (Like sea-salt lotion?)

It generally has to be crystalline for the catchall certainty of the university to make it effective. You can fudge the lines of this; the success of a variation is not so much scientific as something you inherently feel should work. But if you’re going to start messing around, you’d better be absolutely ironclad certain it will protect you, because your belief is going to be what makes it so.

Dear Diarist

High school AU where Dean finds a diary, and it just so happens to contain his name - and details of the mystery writer’s intense crush on him. But Dean’s also got a crush… it’s too much to hope for that the diarist is Castiel, right?

happy birthday to @destieldrabblesdaily!!! love you Shirley <3

(read here on AO3 if you prefer!)

Dear Diary,

I think I’m a ghost. No one ever seems to see me at all.

Dean frowned, staring down at the first page of the book that he’d found on top of the lockers, pushed back out of sight. He’d never have found it at all, if Sam hadn’t taken his Physics textbook and hidden it up there, just to show off that he was taller than Dean now.

I don’t talk to anyone and no one talks to me. It’s not that they don’t like me, it’s that they don’t seem to see me at all. I swear I really am a ghost.

Dean stopped reading, frowning. Was this supposed to be an actual diary, or some kind of story? He checked the front cover of the book for a name, a clue to whom it might belong - but found nothing. He opened it up again.

One day, I think I’m just going to stand up and walk right out of class. And no one will even look up. I’m going to walk out of class and never come back and not one person at this school will miss me. And I won’t miss any of them, either. Except…

Dean leaned back against his locker and flipped the page, his attention caught. He wondered briefly whether he should stop reading - but then he got a glimpse of the next few words, and his curiosity escalated out of control.

… there is one boy. Dean Winchester, his name is Dean Winchester. 

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