fathom the universe


The fantastic cinema of the 1950s

It Came from Outer Space (1953)
Invaders from Mars (1953)
The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953)
Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)
Them! (1954)
Tarantula! (1955)
Forbidden Planet (1956)
Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956)
20 Million Miles to Earth (1957)
The Black Scorpion (1957)

Preference; I’d Understand

Alec Volturi and Paul Lahote preference requested by anon! “Yoo hows my favorite blog?? I’m doin’ alright. Can i get a alec or paul imagine where they’re scared about reader leaving him. Due to alec being a vampire that likes human blood. Or if you do pauls about him being a hothead. Hopefully it makes sense” Hope you like it!


In truth, you’d never been wholly comfortable with the meal-plan served in the Italian villa, given your awkward position as would-be appetizer. Despite your position in this so strange, vampiric court, despite your knowledge of the binding law protecting you from intentional harm, your stomach continued to twist and knot in fear. This discomfort, this terror stemmed not from your relations within the Volturi; no, even Aro had been kind, welcoming even, whispering about how overjoyed he was that his darling Alec had found such a promising mate. It was clear that he had a handful of particularly advantageous plans when the sunrise of your immortality broke the horizon, and thus took an affectionate liking to you. The subject of your mortality was a bit of a taboo, especially considering the diet of choice your new companions favoured, but your never felt discriminated for the beating of your heart.

It was never about your pulse, your necessary breath, the blood flowing through your veins, protected only by a thin layer of vulnerable flesh. Politically, you were fine. You were practically one of the guards, your transformation date set for sometime in the summer. It was never about you. It was about the thirty tourists you saw enter the throne room every week, it was their screaming that haunted your dreams, their horror that plunged the knife into your abdomen, churning your insides until you were reduced to nothing. It was your mate’s participation, his willing participation, that struck fear into your still-beating heart. If you had wandered into the villa, expecting a tour of Italian architecture, a history lesson on pillars or portraits, would he have slaughtered you as he slaughtered the others? Would he have spared you a second thought?

You were doubtful.

You stood with your back facing the entrance to your bedchamber, your eyes dissecting the intricate carvings laid into the marble of the walls. Though you had been distanced from the heart of the Volturi’s society, you could hear the echos reverberating down the hall nonetheless. Alec had noticed your discomfort and suggested a change of scenery, though you understood that even his residence in Verona would carry the weight of Volterra’s infractions. You were chewing the edge of your fingernail (a nervous habit you hoped would be kicked, finally, when you were torn from your human life) when your ears picked up on the subtlest wisp of movement, announcing the presence of your silent lover. Soon after, his hands were cooling your elbows, folding over your crossed arms, his honeyed breath polluting the air you inhaled. His lips pressed to your neck, your mind jumping from affection to unease as you noted the placement of his kiss. His voice, so soft, so sweet for so experienced a killer, sang against your ear, his hair brushing against your cheek.

“Darling, you’re troubled,” he observed, his icy fingers ghosting over your hands, lacing his fingers through yours, a tender gesture you were not expecting to be accompanied by the surprising warmth his frozen fingers carried. He’d fed recently, more recently than you cared to dwell on. A stranger’s blood warmed his frigid tissues. You flinched away from his touch, untangling yourself from his fingers, avoiding contact with his violent eyes, his angel’s lips parted in wounded confusion. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Is something the matter?” He extended his hand, and you once more slunk away from his touch. He ducked his head, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks, exhaling lowly. When he spoke, his voice had changed drastically, harbouring an injury you had yet to notice on his physical form. “Aro warned me this would happen.” You did not speak on the matter, but recalled easily the moment you had departed from Volterra, your hand sliding from Aro’s papery skin, his eyes reading your most recent thoughts, likely painting vivid imagery to accompany your internalized terror. Of course he would mention this to Alec. Your inability to cope directly affected him. “This is about the blood.” His voice did not lilt in inquiry; there was no question, no confusion muddying his understanding. You lifted your face to address him, his eyes a blazing crimson, burning from within with the glow of his most recent meal. Your words clung to the insides of your throat, scratching their way downward, refusing to surface. Alec’s jaw clenched, his gaze lowering to the floor’s mosaic, his brow furrowing the silken plane of his forehead. It was almost inhumane to witness, to cause, distress in so beautiful a creature.

“If I could avoid… the way that I feed, I would do it for you,” he continued, his voice softer, quieter than before, his words dripping with sorrow like an open wound, his tone ringing with a melancholic tenor. “Once you’ve turned, I believe, I hope, that you will understand the difficulty we face. This is not a choice, the way that we feed. Our thirst is not a decision; it’s a compulsion. I have very little control of how I ensure your safety… If I were to refrain, I’m afraid I would be unable to keep myself from causing you harm.” Your breathing grew shallow as he explained to you the honest truths behind his so frequent feasting, his plump lips downturned at the corners, his eyes projecting a most uncommon weakness in one of the most powerful man you had the pleasure of knowing. He pursed his lips before exhaling a broken sigh, his chest heaving unnaturally. “If this is not something that you can live with… I’d understand.” His voice, usually so determined, so confident, now drifted into silence. The only sound available to your feeble ears was your steady pattern of breathing. You turned your face away, unable to hold his gaze any longer, your heart breaking for the angel you’d reduced to ash and cinder before you. After a moment, Alec broke his uncharacteristic silence, his voice illustrating a heart, an organ you knew no longer beat within the chiseled stone of his chest, breaking. If he was capable of producing tears, you had no doubt they would have fallen freely from his scarlet eyes, painting glimmering trails against the alabaster of his complexion. “Will you leave me?” You turned, shocked by his inquiry. How was he able to fathom a universe where you did not see yourself at his side? Had your affections fallen flat? Were you unable to illustrate to him the depth of your love? You crossed to him, your fingers angling his chin upward, forcing him to meet your eye, his irises blooming dangerously beneath a broken brow.

“I could not leave you if remaining by your side ensured the end of my life. To be parted from you would cause me unbearable pain. You are not what I despise, and your thirst… I can’t blame you for that. It’s the executions, Alec, that bother me. You’re herding people to their deaths by the hundreds every year. I can’t help but be bothered by the deaths. I’m only human, for now. If there is another way that you can live, tell me, and we can pursue that path. Together.” His eyes softened, his breath flowing over your face. Though his brow remained furrowed, his lips formed a cautious grin. He glanced at the position of the sun through your veiled window, his eyes returning to your face. He lifted his palm to cradle your cheeks, his face alight with the force of the words he spoke next.

“There is a coven in America, the Cullens. If we leave now, we could reach their home by tomorrow. I never thought I would say this…” His thumbs stroked over your cheekbones, the weight of his decision weighing heavily on his shoulders. “I believe they may be able to help us.”


You had been warned of this very scenario from the moment Paul’s realities had been revealed to you, the moment you became involved in the fiery universe that he was so ingrained in. You’d seen the evidence of a destructive temper on Emily’s face, scarring her for life, a warning sign to the other members of Sam’s pack: don’t get too close. You hadn’t had any issues as far as trust went; Paul was relatively calm when you were around, incredibly cautious to the point of over-protectiveness, and as kind and loving as the day you’d met him. He was well-prepared to prevent injuries similar to Emily’s, or worse, and handled his rage better than he had before you stumbled into him. According to his pack, he’d been a bit of a loose canon before imprinting, but your presence acted as a sedative to his usual rowdy, unpredictable nature. You’d been assured that his mannerisms, specifically his impulse to phase, had been quieted after he imprinted, but his actions spoke to combat the promises his brothers made.

Their observations had not been entirely false; Paul was, without doubt, a changed man, but he carried with him a fire that even you could not put out. While he wasn’t explosive, his fuse was relatively short. You hadn’t had the chance to argue, given the amount of time you’d known him, but you’d be witness to his quick temper. You’d never felt threatened in any way other than the typical back-away-if-he-starts-shaking, but that applied to any of the wolves. They all had off-days, but Paul was never someone to be feared, never someone to be wary of. He treated you with the utmost respect and care, but even he couldn’t put a stopper on the floodgates when you’d been approached by a group of men on First Beach. Their salutations had been more insult than greeting, their words slipping like an oil slick from between their unwashed teeth, their faces gleaming with a drunken sweat you could smell radiating from their bodies as you passed them by. Paul, of course, was not about to stand for this ill-treatment. You’d felt the vibrations rolling from his body through the hand that held his, heard his laboured breathing by your ear. You had enough time to extract your hand from his and press a palm to his chest before turning to the trio of vulgar men, warning them to leave before someone (here meaning them, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you also spoke in your own defense) was hurt. One look at Paul was enough to seal your threat in concrete. There was no question about his anger, and his bare torso was promise enough that any retribution would be undeniably painful. They fled, joining a throng of townspeople vacating the beach. Your eyes locked on his, his lips curling over his teeth. You’d attempted to whisper a few calming words before realizing how far gone he truly was. You backed away from his trembling form, every visible muscle tensing on his body as he too backed away from you.

“Y/n,” he snarled, his eyes flitting around as his convulsions intensified, watching the last of the beach’s crowd fade into the night. His unspoken plea was clear: run. You turned your back on him and joined the masses abandoning the darkness of the waters, their voices nearly masking the tear of clothing as Paul exploded from his skin. You turned in time to watch his tail disappear into the tree line. You headed for Emily’s place, hoping to find Sam or Jared holed-up in her kitchen. One of them must be willing to talk Paul down from his heated precipice. You knew they’d all done it before. Your trek was short-lived, and the harmonies reaching from Emily’s open windows carried promises of aid in the form of two, possibly three werewolves. You helped yourself in, your eyes finding Sam’s in the crowd surrounding Emily’s table. His face, lightened by Emily’s company, went dark when he met your gaze. It seemed he already knew. You cleared your throat, running a hand through your hair, watching as Jared, Quil, and Emily focused their attention on you.

“Anyone willing to track my boyfriend for me?” Jared cursed aloud, damning Paul to Hell as he dropped his half-eaten muffin onto his plate, clearly irritated with his friend’s lack of control. Quil offered an apologetic grimace, clapping you on the shoulder as he made his way to the door with Jared nipping at his heels. Sam said nothing outside of asking for Paul’s last-known location, departing with a a final glance at Emily, his fists balled around a pair of jean shorts. Emily’s hands fluttered about her table, sweeping crumbs from the surface, her eyes on your face. She nodded you over, inviting you to sit as she prepared her dinner, promising you that Paul’s episodes never lasted more than half an hour, and that was before you came along. She was almost certain he’d be back sooner. You chatted with her for the next fifteen minutes, your mind preoccupied, replaying the fading image of Paul ducking into the woods on the blank expanse of your eyelids. It wasn’t until Emily offered you a cup of tea that you noticed your hands were trembling. “Maybe I’m a wolf too,” you whispered, your voice failing your attempt at humour, Emily’s arms wrapping around your back as your body shuddered. She, of all people, knew the fear that now pooled in your stomach. Another ten minutes passed before you heard their approach, the sound of footsteps crunching against soil paired with Sam’s low, angry whispers. The three members of Paul’s rescue party had returned, and all three entered without a word, sitting at the table in absolute silence. Emily’s eyes focused on the doorway before finding yours, shooting you a sisterly glance you understood to be cautionary.

“Y/n,” your name was soft on his lips, a gentle tone meant to exhibit his level of calmness. You turned in your seat, abandoning your tea, your eyes falling on his form, propped-up against the open doorway. He gestured for you to join him outside, his hand running through his shorn hair. They did not tremble. You excused yourself and followed him onto Emily’s lawn, watching his shoulders heave with as he sighed, his back gleaming beneath the light of the moon. His hands were swinging at his sides, his muscles tensing and releasing as he paced. When he stopped, you were a good distance away from the house, out of earshot, you assumed, and away from any scrutiny. He turned, slowly, his every movement calculated, the effort behind his actions obvious. He was going out of his way to eliminate any perception you could have of him being a threat to your safety. He kept his distance, addressing you in a whisper from a handful of feet away, his bare feet digging into the earth as he spoke. “Y/n, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. That was… I put you at risk, and I’m so, so sorry.” His eyes lifted to the stars, his head shaking with frustration. “And, you know, I can’t even promise that it won’t happen again. I’m not in control, not like that. This can happen again, and that…” his voice dropped off, his sentence hanging open, fluttering in the breeze. When his eyes returned to yours, his face was broken, his lips pursed to keep them from quivering. “I mean, I’d understand if it’s too much. As much as it kills me, I can understand if you need to go.” He raised his hands, surrendering. “I want you safe, that’s all. I can’t promise you’ll be safe around me. I can’t.” You shook your head, closing the distance between you, continuing even after he mirrored your first few steps, eager to keep you out of harm’s way.

“Paul, if anything, you went out of your way to keep me safe tonight. You warned me that you were losing control, and you backed up, and you gave me time to step back.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you refused to let berate himself further. “You are not a threat to me, and I’m not going anywhere.” He exhaled deeply, relieved, and closed his arms around your back, pulling you to the warmth of his chest.

gdmora  asked:

Soulmate Au with Mccree and Reinhardt? ♡ -Overwatch Mom

((here u go mom, i hope u like!!))


He touched his fingers to the name neatly tattooed across his wrist. The tattoo read “(Y/n)” in a script too beautiful to be described. He touched before he did his vigilante work, it was his good luck charm. It usually worked, and he figured that having your name made him the luckiest man on earth. If only he were lucky enough to meet you.

He cleared his head, and began to walk along the train. Diving in, he managed to single handedly fight the Deadlock Gang and take back control of the train. Once he had tied up the gang and left them for the local authorities, he started to walk to the exit, feeling the train slowing down beneath his feet.

He went to step out and onto the platform of the train, but ended up crashing. He rubbed his head, and looked over at the person.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t see ya there. I’m Jesse, Jesse McCree.” He said, offering you a hand. Your eyes widened. You felt the name on your wrist tingle, as did his. He smiled and walked off the train with you.

“Well, (Y/n), lemme tell ya how you’ve made me the luckiest man to walk this green earth.” He said, walking over to a nearby bench, and dusting it off slightly, so that you could sit on it.

“Why don’t you tell me about that, Jesse?” You said, smiling at your newfound soulmate. He grinned wolfishly, and began telling you the exuberant tale of Jesse McCree.


He looked at the tattoo on his wrist. He had never met you yet, and was waiting on the day he could. He smiled, thinking about what he could do with his future soulmate.

He thought of domestic things, such as living together, him swirling you around in the kitchen as the breakfast sat waiting on the table.

He thought about how it would be nice to take you to a picnic, on a night so clear that the stars are endless, and you can just barely start to fathom how the large the universe is. He’ll make the food, giant portions of it, and have a beautiful and comfortable blanket for you both to-

“Reinhardt.” A voice called to him, interrupting his day dreams. He looked over with his good eye to see who had called him. Ana stood, smiling at him, holding a new recruit with her hands. Grinning, she told him the name of the recruit, (y/n). His eyes widened, as he flung his wrist to you.

You saw your name written beautifully across his wrist, and you shoved yours next to his. “Reinhardt” was written on your wrist, dwarfed in comparison to his. He smiled, and hugged you, spinning around.

“(Y/n)! You have no idea how long i’ve waited to meet you.” he said, setting you down gently. You smiled at him, and shook your head.

“Reinhardt, i can only imagine.”


“He’s killing you, Y/n!” John yells, throwing his hands around violently, his eyes harbor so much hate and pain. The anger in his voice is indescribable. For weeks he’s been watching you and your boyfriend, Derek. Two weeks into your relationship John pulled you aside and had the “are you happy?” talk. You responded without hesitation and such confidence, you were sure you liked Derek. John pursed his lips and nodded, letting the subject go. You couldn’t fathom a universe where the big bad wolf John Murphy would care, but you let it go. He still watched you, though. He watched every time you’d go bouncing up to Derek, a bright smile on your face, only for it to fade when he brushed you off. He watched every time you’d say something and Derek would attack you with harsh critical words, pain cascading over your face. He watched every time you called your bruises “Good sex” or your fear of him hurting you “Him making you a better person” . He watched your personality be shaped by Derek. He watch in those weeks, your bright colors fade, and become the grey Derek lived in. It wasn’t only John who was concerned for you, your friends would lightly ask about the state of your life with Derek. Ever the less, you always stood by him. You gave no room for doubt in your speech about why you loved Derek. Only John noticed the repetitiveness of that speech, the rehearsed tone it held. Only he saw how your smile faded the second Derek looked away, replaced by a cringe. Only John saw the tears you shed after one of Derek’s “talks” about how you needed to change. Only John saw, you werent happy.

“I love him, John” You state with a firm tone, your lips pulled in a tight line. You knew if you relaxed for even a second, he’d see right through you.

“So you keep saying!” John yells, staring at you. Anger and confusion rushing across his features. Eventually, he sighed, relaxing.

“I don’t know what you love, and I don’t care. Whether you love him or not, I know you can see what he’s doing to you.” He spoke softly now, compassion flooding from him. He started at you, not breaking once.

“I love him.” You spoke, your confidence wavering.

“Say it again.” John demanded, continuing to stare into your eyes.

“I love him.” You spoke with conviction.


“I love him.” This time, you spoke quieter. The words felt bulky, like they clung to the roof of your mouth.


“I love him” You struggled to get it out, cracking.


Now you remained quiet. The pained cringe the John knew well was now laid bare for everyone to say. He never once looked away.

“Again.” His stern tone pushed through you, into the parts of your mind you tried so desperately to ignore. He took a step closer, barley inches from you now, he stared down at your soft and frightened eyes.

“Again.” He spoke deep and low. You cracked.

“I-.…Jesus I don’t love him” You whispered, bowing your head. Your hands instinctively rose to place on his chest, stabilizing yourself as you sob. Your cries bruised your chest and stung your throat. As if a damn of built up pain was finally broken, you screamed with sadness. Your entire body shook, you felt as though you couldn’t breathe, the sobs crawling up your throat and choking you. Within a millisecond, John wrapped his arms around you and held your broken body. He supported you, pulling you so tightly into his chest. He caressed your hair, whispering to you.

“Shh, its okay. Its okay, Y/n. I’ve got you, you’re safe now. You’re safe.”

You breathed into him, pulling from his strength to save yourself.

“Ive got you.”

Just take a moment to imagine married Mike and Eleven. Mike wakes up at two in the morning due to his uncanny El instincts and finds his wife sitting up in bed crying softly into her hands with her knees tucked up to her chest. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and rubs her back gently. Through hiccups and sniffles and fragmented words, she admits to Mike how afraid and unprepared she feels to be a future parent, let alone just being an adult. Mike runs his hand through her short chestnut hair and wipes away the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. He tells her that, just as he promised all those years ago, he will always be by her side and she won’t have to face the scary things alone. He tells her that his love for her extends beyond the fathomable universe and that she, Eleven Wheeler, can accomplish anything she puts her mind to because of her endless strength and courage and love. She smiles a little and interlaces their fingers, remarking in a whisper how they have already conquered unimaginable feats, so how hard can adulting and parenting be, especially when they have each other? Rather than going back to sleep, though, El decides it’s a very appropriate time for some comforting Eggos, and the two of them end up sleepily nestled on the living room couch munching on a box worth of Eggo waffles and watching old home videos of them as kids and snuggling tightly in a nest of blankets 

aaron minyard is a nerd

so since i’m sinning with aaron minyard rn, i figured i’d post a little aaron/katelyn drabble i wrote. thanks to @allison-reynold and @burningfairytales for being interested even though it wasn’t andreil xD


“If we were capable of visiting the parallel universe closest to ours, what do you think it would be like?” 

Professor Whitten proposed this question to his eight A.M. theoretical science class with no real expectation of a response. 

Aaron Minyard, sunk low in his seat and fuming over his brother and his whole miserable life, raised his hand resentfully. Whitten blinked but called on him.

Keep reading

No but like the Gems are hilariously clueless adorable dorks. Pearl’s like “I saw some police tape once and all the humans wouldn’t go through it so I think it’s like a force field or some kind of human repellant. Idk, humans are weird”

And Garnet and Amethyst are like “yea that sounds like something humans would do”

And Steven is 10 so he wouldn’t cross a police tape line.

And they’re just like “this plan is fool-proof” and do not fathom it not working

Eyes in Universe

I cannot fathom the vast expanding universe
but your eyes contain the stars -
the inspiration for this free verse -
for them rhythmic words and letters at war.

Your every smile is different and the same
but take it as gospel it is an oasis.
And those parting lips always leave me untamed.
When you say my name I’m in such a crisis.

Your eyes hold the stars
that put my world in accretion
but now you’re too far
and gravity’s weak without your attention.

But darling I’m not afraid
because I’ve swayed my own stars
evolving to once again be made
Differently and a little bit bizarre.


[Updated 07/03/2014]

Hello everyone. This has been a little project of mine over the past few days 

I hope you all enjoy this listing, and share it around. Share all the science. :3


I will be editing this from time to time and I’ll keep a link to it on my blog so you can find it easily.

This is not meant to be a list of all science blogs on tumblr. Only all the ones I know about (which is still a lot but definitely not all). The blogs listed are all active as well (within the past few weeks).

If you are not on the list and want me to check out your blog, send me a message. I may or may not follow you

I categorized each blog by scientific field: 

Anthropology, Astronomy, Biology, Botany, Chemistry, Engineering/Technology, Environmental Science, General Science, Geography, Geology, Mathematics, Medical, Paleontology, Physics, Psychology and Zoology

The first post got too big, and I’ve had to split it into two posts.

Post #1 Contains the fields of Anthropology, Astronomy, Biology, Botany, Chemistry, Engineering/Technology and Environmental Science.

This post contains General Science, Geography, Geology, Mathematics, Medical, Paleontology, Physics, Psychology and Zoology.

If you’re not happy with the section I put you in, send me a message and I’ll make an edit. I had to make quick decisions on hundreds of blogs, I’m only human.

Its a LONG post, so it might be easier to just search for the field you’re interested in.

With that said, enjoy!

Keep reading

INTP: … and it is very foolish to think that our understanding encompasses the reality of existence; it goes without saying that humans are notoriously biased and mostly driven by a desire for immediate gains, and such shortsightedness can definitely not fathom the intricacy of the universal structure, in which we are in an ever-growing chain of causality; meaning that even though this moment is an effect of a prior cause, it is also a cause for a following effect. However, that would suggest a deterministic universe, and quantum mechanics all but scoffs at the idea… If the minute particles of which everything is comprised are governed by a specific law, doesn’t that mean that the macroscopic world should be affected by that law as well? Or is it more than the sum of its individualistic parts…?

INTP: I forgot what point I was trying to make

INTP: What was your question again?

ISFJ: … 

ISFJ: “Do you think the teacher will like our presentation?”

Imagine: Kylo Ren getting jealous when someone flirts with you

Originally posted by use-the-force-rey

It was your lunch break. You stood by a massive window in an empty hallway, staring out the thousands of galaxies that were sprinkled around the universe. It seemed that everyday you noticed a new star or far-off planet. It amazed you but at the same time blew your mind. You couldn’t fathom how massive the universe really was or if it ever really ended. 

A pair of footsteps clopping on the metallic floors interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see the uptight General Hux, his fiery orange hair slicked down. Strangely, you noticed his mouth wasn’t bent in the permanent grimace he usually wore. His eyes weren’t narrowed. They seemed soft and… was that kindness you saw?

He smiled at you, an unlikely sight, and you smiled back. Had someone slipped something funny in his drink?

The general stood next to you, a little too close for comfort. You inched away slightly, sneaking a glance at him. Hux didn’t seem to notice.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” He said. 

“What is?” You replied, glancing at him. His hands were clasped behind his back. 

Hux turned to you and smirked, leaning towards you faintly. 

“How in this entire galaxy, I happened to come across someone as beautiful as you.”

The general’s response shocked you, making you go red in the face. Words were at loss. 

“I-I…” You stammered, backing a step away from Hux. He advanced on you, taking your hand in his and his face moving dangerously close to yours. You could feel his breath.

 Before you could retaliate, the blaster doors in the hallway parted and from them came Kylo Ren, his lightsaber ablaze. He strided over to you and took Hux by the shoulder. The young Sith pushed the general to the floor, making him land on his hind end. 

“Don’t.” Was all Kylo growled at the fiery haired man. Hux snorted distastefully and got to his feet, walking pathetically out of the room. He cursed Kylo before the doors shut. 

When he was gone, Kylo turned to you and removed his mask, revealing his face, which was red with fury. 

You threw your arms around him, holding on as tight as you could. The Sith staggered slightly before wrapping his arms around your middle, burying his nose in your hair. Slowly, his muscles, stiff with anger, relaxed as he held you. You whispered your thanks into his ear and he responded with a tighter hug. He seemed to be lost for words.

You both stood there, holding each other in the empty hallway in StarKiller Base.

anonymous asked:

I'll tell you what you are to me. You're the stars, little fragments of the sky I can't fathom. You're the universe itself and all its depth. You're out of reach. You're the character of my book. You bleed and made the writings came alive. +++

Part 2
“+++ And somehow, I can see a work of fiction with your thoughts and soul. You’re the hero of my book. You’re my heavenly sky and my hero. That is who you are to me. - t r i s h”

I think I have melted into a happy puddle.

anonymous asked:

Hey Jaxblade Since you are the Biggest DBZ fan and the One whose been telling people for months to read One Punch Man and it turned into an Awesome Anime (you were so right bro) I have to ask you Since you go in depth with this shit. DEATH BATTLE WHO WINS. Goku vs Saitama

Haha Pitting my Personal 2 favorite Anime/Manga Heroes against each other huh haha Okay this post needed an update anyway from the one I did back in the day 

Now that is great Question one I can really sink my Teeth into.

Really and Unstoppable force meets an Immovable Object

Lets look at our fighters




Now lemme think about this Starting with the OP Powerhouse Saitama

Saitama is Just So friggin Powerful I mean, He Beats every monster that the other S class heroes can’t with a Single Punch

Originally posted by juuzo

He’s able to track Speed of Sound Sonic Easily, who’s like a flash

And He Stopped a Planet Bursting Attack with One punch that split the Clouds in the Stratosphere


None of the villains in the series post hisSuper hero training have yet to injure him or cause him any damage. Like when he Fought Boros (BY THE WAY THIS WILL BE THE BEST ANIME FIGHT OF THE YEAR WHEN IT GETS THERE) the highest level threat of the series and he powered up

He was bored through the whole fight even after Boros 


And he just jumped back down to earth

THATS  238,900 miles at a velocity I cant fathom. And He was fine

I honestly don’t even think Goku could tank a falling like that so easily

even though in DragonBall Super when fighting Beerus he fell threw the atmosphere as a God and Flew up to continue fighting 

Now the fact that he was holding Back, and he has Yet to be Damaged leads a lot to the imagination BUT One crucial thing He cannot do. Is Fly.
He can run super fast and Jump Good but he can’t fly.

Now Goku has become a Blue God 

and apparantly that is more powerful than his Red God Form and when that fought with Beerus It was said that 3 punches from them could Destroy the entire Universe

Now I want you to Fathom that. 

The Universe is FUCKIN MASSIVE

Originally posted by thelucidnation

But the thing about Dragonball is once the characters kept getting endlessly stronger their feats became kinda less impressive, I mean you can only blow up soo many planets and Akira Toriyama stated a few times that he had forgotten how powerful characters were when they should be able to solve a problem instantaneously.


A BULLET FROM AN AK-47 MOVES AT 715 M/S, SINCE ROSHI CANNOT SEE HIM GOKU MUST BE GOING FASTER THAN THE BULLET. And as the series goes on He gets MUCH FASTER THAN THAT in the series. But later on Super Saiyan Trunks can’t get to Bulma’s house from Kami’s lookout. But thats a Topic for another day. The Point is Speed, I feel Goku most definitely at this point is Faster than Saitama In Attacking I mean who’s Faster Bruce Lee or Usain Bolt, thats not to say Saitama couldnt counter Also he can Teleport.

and He can Fly

But the Thing is I don’t know if he could TANK  a Straight Full powered Punch From Saitama. 

Cause Goku’s NOT Invincible he’s been damaged countless times before but 97% of the time he always thinks of a way to win cause he’s a Strategic Martial Artist.

I think if he was trying to win He’d have to fly up and use energy blasts to keep him at Bay since he has that on him.

But then again I don’t think the Blasts would have any effect on Saitama since he tanked a Moon Landing

Also I dont Know if Saitama’s META Abilitiy of ALWAYS beating someone with One Punch comes into play here

the whole premise behind One Punch Man  Its the anti shonen by excellence. In regular Shonen the hero must become stronger by training to defeat each incoming enemy. In OPM, you expect that in the coming enemies one will raise to Saitama standards an offer him a little bit of challenge because he’s so OP , he doesn’t need training anymore.The manga that doesn’t take itself too seriously and I think that’s a big reason why it’s just so awesome and funny. And asking who would win between Saitama and anyone in any universe, when it comes to pure strength, ofc Saitama would always 100% defeat anyone with just one punch. I mean that’s what the manga is all about He’s power was meant to be a Joke in the first place So it could be like this


its an Immovable Object fighting an Unstoppable force

And Both series have to continue for me to give an Accurate assessment  


We have:

1. A BEAUTIFULLY executed twist of a villain character from wander over yonder.

2. A possible new character and secrets that no one can BEGIN TO FATHOM from Steven universe

3. The possible freakin apocalypse, sibling relationships, and even more amazing twists and secrets from Gravity Falls.

4. Fucking demon prom along with new villians and characters from star vs the forces of evil

5. An epic world chancing battle and serious season finale coming up from Randy Cunningham 9th grade ninja.


5. Shit getting super real and deep from Penn zero part time hero.

It is safe to say that I have NEVER been this excited to see what cartoons have in store for me this year.

And I am PROUD to say I watch these shows, and applaud all the hard work and effort that these creators, casts and crews went through to make this all possible.

If someone says cartoons were better in the 90’s, THEY ARE DEAD WRONG, and obviously aren’t watching cartoons on now.

I’m shitty at being honest,
But I want to be honest with you and
Honestly everything about you scares me shitless,
From the way your lips are still glistening with the aftermath of my anxiety
To the small of your back pressed softly into my hands.
I am so small when I am next to you,
Engulfed by you, infinite,
Falling into the back of your throat as your laughter swallows me,
Muffled and slow.
The sunset smears clouds across the sky with brushstrokes of light,
Painting the portrait of a nebula and
I swear to god you are every hue I’ve ever loved;
Just like that you are dust and gas compact into these atoms
I can’t fathom how the universe designed you.
I can’t think of the equations that led our lines to meet,
My hands are clasped in desperation that we can bend so that after
We intersect we will not have to leave.
My heart is a kick-drum slamming inside my chest to
The rhythm of your fingers running through my hair to the nape of my neck.
No amount of sound can touch me now
As I write this down,
Trying to pen you onto a paper. It’s the best I can do
In the stead of paint onto a canvas.
—  “Portrait Of A Nebula” - Nishat Ahmed