star streaks

Please, don’t worry so much. Because in the end, none of us have very long on this Earth. Life is fleeting. And if you’re ever distressed, cast your eyes to the summer sky when the stars are strung across the velvety night. And when a shooting star streaks through the blackness, turning night into day… make a wish and think of me. Make your life spectacular.
I know I did.
—  Robin Williams, Jack (1996)

headcanon that the first phase of the clone armor didnt have very good protection on the hands and it got added later on because clones kept coming back from the battlefeild with broken hands. it wasnt there in the first place because the kaminoans didnt expect the clones to fucking punch the droids in the face this isnt how we trained you this is why you have a gun

anonymous asked:

Okey but i am a sucker for angst and well i was thinking what do you think would happen if lotor wouldn't "save" keith and keith actually killed himself to save the mission... What do you think shiro would do and feel? Cause i have no idea... Well i can imagine him screaming at keith not to do it to find another way but what would he do after ?

You know the really awful thing about this? At first, Shiro would be congratulating him, saying good job. Because Team Voltron had no idea what was happening on the other end, they just knew Keith was going to try and stop the ship. And it stopped. So, mission success, right? Shiro commends him for his efforts, but the cruel irony there is that, if it was actually Keith who stopped the ship, he’d be dead. Shiro would be there smiling and telling Keith how proud he was and hearing–nothing. Dead silence. 

Keith’s comms are completely down. It could be nothing, just some interference, the others reason. But Shiro tenses, and his stomach drops. Something’s not right here, he can feel it in his gut. The few seconds between when Coran’s call is received and they open up comms are the longest of his life. It’s childish and cowardly, but he doesn’t want to answer. Doesn’t want to hear the words. And even as Coran speaks, relays Keith’s world shattering decision–Shiro hardly listens. The words are there, punctuated by sharp breaths and wretched sobs, but Shiro doesn’t need to hear. He already knows what happened, can feel it in his bones.

Keith always gave back more than the universe deserved. 

The flight back to the castle is a streak of stars and warbled static. Shiro doesn’t know how long it takes. Shiro isn’t sure when they made it back. Shiro hardly remembers sitting down until Hunk is already offering him a blanket and Allura insists he eat some food. He’s glassy-eyed and numb when everyone offers their condolences, hands reflexively clenching every now and again. The light that shoots up his galra tech arm is sheer impulse, but the flare is still enough to startle. Lance walks him back to his room and tells him he should rest. 

For the longest time, Shiro wonders why he did it. How did he do it? Was he calm and composed right up until the very end? Did he scream? Did he cry? Did he break down and steel himself with some sacred oath of duty before he blasted himself to pieces? Did he ever think about how the others would feel? How he would feel? Did he ever believe his life was worth anything at all?

And you know what else is cruel? Keith didn’t even get to say his goodbyes. Not even so much as another, “It was an honor flying with you.” He was going to die without telling his team one last time how much they mean to him, without telling Shiro. He couldn’t bare to say his goodbyes, there wasn’t time, they would’ve tried to stop him–there are a number of reasons not to, so he didn’t. It’s for the best, he must’ve told himself. If he doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t speak the words aloud, then this can’t be real. Just close your eyes and it’ll all be over soon. It’s a thought Shiro can’t cut loose, and he lets it close around his throat with every shaky breath. 

And it isn’t until the horrible sinking sensation creeps up on him in the midst of another sleepless night, slicing right through him like a knife–that he realizes, choking back a sob that devolves into a mindless scream. “It was always meant to be yours.”

Had Keith kept piloting Black instead, he would’ve been saved. 

Just know that we’re here for you whenever you need us.” “I know you are. And I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

He can’t bare to set foot in Black for a long time after that.

The night sky over Joshua Tree National Park is a glittering dome of sparkling stars, bright planets and streaking meteors – but most people no longer get to see it where they live. In urban and suburban settings, artificial lighting and atmospheric pollutants wash out the light of the stars. Boasting some of the darkest nights in Southern California, Joshua Tree offers many visitors the chance to admire the Milky Way for the first time in their lives and was recently designated an International Dark Sky Park. Photo by Brad Sutton, National Park Service.

Falling Stars (2)

Originally posted by ladyoflaketownimagines

Pairing: none yet! (fem reader btw) (but shoot me a pairing!)
Word count: 1,242                                                                                            Summary; You just wanted a normal day for once but turns out you just can’t and end falling into middle earth and accompanying Thorin’s epic quest         Warnings: Swearing, awkward reader, modern!oblivious!reader   

It was a dream-it had to be, or else it was a really shitty prank and you were having none of it.

“I’m dreaming, it must be a dream. Yeah, no way I’m actually here…sitting in the middle of fucking nowhere with dwarves… J-just a dream.” You whispered to yourself, your arms covering your head while you rocked back and forth. Maybe if you closed your eyes and just concentrated you’d wake up in your own bed with a hangover, the only explanation to this wild occurrence.

“If yer tryin’ to wish us away, it ‘ent workin’.” One of them commented.

Fuck me, you wailed internally.

You really did have the worst luck in the world. Only you would end up in a situation like this; thrown off a cliff, betrayed by your own foot, and teleported into an alternate reality of some sort with tiny men sporting excess amounts of hair and various sharp weapons. Although, nearly right after you fell into mild hysteria, the only normal sized person here who had a grey beard and pointy hat came to your rescue with a cup of tea and gentle reassurance. He called himself Gandalf and he patiently explained where you were and who the strange men around were.

Like that helped any.

And after having that slight panic attack, you seated yourself on the ground as the Company eyed you with pity. Thus leading us to the present time, where you still sat.      

“Oh, I really shouldn’t of poured beer on that tree!” You sobbed, earning a few confused stares.

“My dear,” Gandalf sighed, placing a gentle hand on your shaking shoulder. “I do not know how you fell into this world, no do I know how to return you to your own, but for your own sake you eventually must get up.”

“It’s better down here.”

Another collective sigh. Gandalf scoffed and shook his head, you were nearly as stubborn as a dwarf!


“Gandalf, let me speak with the girl.” A deep rumbling voice interjected what the old wizard was about to say. You could feel the power behind his words and how rich each syllable sounded, leading you to the notion that perhaps the speaker was somehow had ties to royalty or just really full of himself.

Heavy footsteps stomped over to your hunched figure, steel-tipped boots entering the slanted view through your crossed arms. You curled into yourself even more as he let out his own deep sigh and muttered something under his breath.

Just as you parted your lips to threaten the dwarf into leaving you alone, a rough hand snatched your arm and yanked you from the ground with enough force to eject you into the sun, most likely. “Get up.”

You squeaked in surprise and nearly toppled face first into the dwarf, but his firm grip on your arm steadied you. You readied a poisonous glare just for him, but it died away and you though better of it after seeing his own cold scowl that rivaled your own. You were taken aback after putting the tone of his voice to a face and just like his words, he was powerful and rich in features.

“That wasn’t speaking,” you grumbled after a slight pause. “that was manhandling.”

The left end of his darkly bearded lips twitched ever so slightly in response to your sass, and he quirked a dark brow. “I saw no other option.”

With that he released your arm and spun on his heel, midnight locks streaked with silver flowing behind him. “Dwalin, keep an eye on her.”

Gandalf tutted in reply and waved an arm over your shoulders, wheeling you away before the even scarier dwarf with geometric tattoos and muscles for days could keep you tethered to his side.

As Gandalf led you to God-knows-where, you surveyed your surroundings and couldn’t help but admire the surrounding scenery of rolling green hills, distant forests, and brooding mountains far to the east. Even if you were here against your will, it sure beat any scenery back at home you thought impressive. But it still didn’t make up for the sharp pang of home sickness…


It turned out your unexpected arrival delayed whatever it was the group of dwarves, a wizard, and an even smaller creature with bare hairy feet that puzzled you greatly, were doing and so, sooner than you liked, you were hoisted onto a pony without your consent. Not like they cared of course…

The first few days they were skeptical of you tagging along(not that you wanted to), especially Thorin who you assumed to be the leader of them, but a few stern words from a meddling wizard changed his mind. But who could blame them? You pretty much fell from the sky and landed smack-dab in the middle of their camp without warning. Who wouldn’t be suspicious?

At least the strange little creature seemed to take an instant liking towards you and shared his sympathies. And after a few attempts of trying to engaging you in conversation you learned his name; Bilbo Baggins, a Hobbit from the Shire. You didn’t know what a hobbit was or why he was abnormally short with hairy feet, but you found him quite adorable and his odd mannerisms piqued you interest. He even offered to share his blanket with you!

You soon learned during the long hours of endless traveling that the Company was on a quest of sorts to reclaim a mountain lost to an over sized lizard with wings. Bilbo and some other members of the company thought your snide comment about Smaug was funny, Thorin did not and you succeeded in creating an even more horrid situation for yourself. Oh well.

Then there was the princes, Fíli and Kíli, whom you almost immediately became fast friends with after sharing ideas on how to properly prank a person. Not to mention your biting remarks that Fíli and Kíli found absolutely marvelous. Their particular favorite sassy remark being the one where you might of accidentally told their Uncle he had a stick up his ass in front of the whole Company. Oops.

And how could you forget about Bofur and Ori? Your first night with the Company, after easing back into your own skin after the traumatizing experience of falling into another world, you cracked a bawdy joke to ease some of the tension you had caused and Bofur eagerly responded with an even filthier one. A start of a beautiful friendship you liked to think.

Ori was shy and you all but adored him. He even gave you his extra change of clothing(you had never seen anyone blush as red as he did in that moment) and sheepishly showed you some of his drawings on the third night.

In the short time you had been here you began to grow fond of the Company, even Mr. Thorin Grumpypants and his dutiful sidekick, the miniature Hulk minus the green skin and a whole lot more tattoos than the actual Hulk. Though, even the two in mention, begrudgingly realized that you had grown on them, even if you were a bit odd and swore like a sailor.

You momentarily forgot about your life in the modern world, but you were reminded each time you felt yourself subconsciously reach for your phone to check your social media and your Snap Streaks.

Wait…If you were here and your phone was sitting on your bedside table in another dimension that meant-

“My Snapchat streaks!”

“Late to the Party”

I went down to the point to try and get some shots of the lake steaming under the stars, and I was lucky to catch a meteor streak across the sky while I was trying to figure out the best way to illuminate the steam coming off the water.
After checking out the 2016 meteor shower schedule, it looks like this was either a late Perseid meteor, or a random straggler. (The Perseids active peak ended August 26th. I shot this on September 3rd and the start of the next active shower was a moth away.)

you were larger
than life,
to my small-town sensibilities.
My heart couldn’t comprehend all of you at once. But this wasn’t my first rodeo;
life had hurled love at me before.
Step one of my plan:
play hard to get.
But, fuck, you called me
and I came flying like an asteroid.
So I chucked plans and lists
out the window for you,
threw my
into your hands.
Good thing you’re a good catch
as well as a catch.
Spontaneous lover, you danced
and made up the steps as you went along.
We kissed like giggling teenagers,
we gossiped like cackling old women.
You taught me rap songs,
you took me to playgrounds at midnight
so I could look at the star streaked sky
while you pushed the swing higher
and higher,
until I was floating,
until I felt as infinite as you.
You kissed me until
I tasted lightning.
—  the nine people i have loved as planets: jupiter // L.H.

Oh dear. Applejack’s my favorite of the Mane6, yet I somehow get wary whenever I see an episode centered around her. Crying shame!

But I finally got to draw best pony in this chibi style, so I’m not really complaining. :D


Rarity has an upcoming fashion show and chooses Applejack (of all ponies) to be a judge, rationalizing that her inherently honest nature would do serve well in inspecting the three promising contestants. With fashion not exactly being her bag of oats, Applejack reluctantly agrees to it. At first, her criticisms of the contestants’ fashion designs start off understandable – she’s a practical pony and wants to instill a bit of this in the designs. However, she soon goes overboard and becomes brutally honest, causing controversy among the fashion experts. AJ may just learn that honesty may not always be the best policy.

Keep reading


“Choosing your life, and how that made you into someone who now often finds it easy to explain your gender by saying
You are happiest on the road when you’re not here or there, but in between
That yellow line running down the center of it all like a goddamn sunbeam
Your name is not a song you will sing under your breath
Your pronouns haven’t even been invented yet
You’re gonna shave your head and drive through Texas
You’re gonna kill your own God so you can fall in love for the first time
They’re gonna keep telling you your heartbeat is a preexisting condition
They’re gonna keep telling you you are a crime of nature
And you’re gonna look at all your options and choose conviction
Choose to carve your own heart out of the side of a cliff,
Choose to spend your whole life telling secrets you owe no one, to everyone, till there isn’t anyone who can insult you by calling you what you are
You holy blinking star, you highway streak of light, falling over and over for your hard life, your perfect life, your sweet and beautiful life”

okay but what if a few months after Dick got adopted by Bruce he was in school and the teacher made him write something on the board like teachers do and everything was fine until he got back to his desk and realized some of the calk had rubbed off on his hand

because the last time he had chalk on his hands was on the trapeze the night his parents died

dionesyia  asked:

I'd really love a oneshot about Carlisle struggling with a mild case of jealousy. Like his SO talks to someone else, and is all nice and smiley because that's the person they are and Carlisle KNOWS that and he really does know better BUT DOES THIS GUY REALLY NEED TO STAND SO CLOSE TO THEM?

There were few things that Carlisle prided himself on. There was his self control, of course, as well as his ability to easily connect with people. It was a quiet sort of dignity, internalized and never boasted about, because that’s just how Carlisle was, wasn’t he? Humble. Vanity certainly didn’t suit him. But there was one thing in particular, something that only Carlisle was capable of, that would occasionally go to his head.

It was you, or more specifically your eyes, and the way they came to life when he was with you. The way they widened in his presence, the way your pupils dilated the longer he engaged you, the way they focused in on him like he was the most captivating thing they ever saw. And there was always this animate twinkle in those beautiful, dark irises, a subtle glistening that Carlisle knew was for him and only him, akin to a shooting star streaking the black sky—striking and uplifting. 

And when Carlisle saw that twinkle—his twinkle—shimmering vibrantly in your eyes while in the presence of another man, something wildly unpleasant tore open in his chest, clawing up his throat and threatening to burst through his clenched jaw. Suddenly the air in the room was thicker, more suffocating, and Carlisle swore he could feel perspiration prickling on his hairline when the man leaned in closer towards you with an easy grin. 

It was a blow to the gut when you smiled back, when the stranger continued to bask in your glowing gaze. And Carlisle knew you were just being nice, he knew better than to let something so juvenile gnaw at him like this, but did this guy seriously just take another step closer to you? 

A red fog creeped in through his peripheral vision, and a deep, guttural growl resonated in his chest, like a low rumble of thunder reverberating from the earthy floor and shuddering the branches of a tree. His upper lip twitched threateningly, and Carlisle had to resist the overwhelming urge to bare his teeth. He may be falling apart on the inside, but he was not about to lose his hold on his self control too.

Your name scratched its way up his raw throat, the strained sound begging your eyes to flicker over to where Carlisle was standing off with rigid shoulders. He tried a smile, tightlipped but still sincere, and you smiled softly in response. He heard you mutter a brief ‘excuse me’ before you started walking over to him, the smile on your face never faltering as your scent grew stronger and stronger with each step you made.

If someone asked Carlisle why he did what he did next, he would say that he truthfully didn’t know. Maybe it was the harrowing jealousy banging its fists against his ribcage. Maybe it was your intoxicating, delectable aroma clouding his judgement. Maybe it was that damned twinkle that was dancing in your eyes as you approached him. Maybe it was all three together.

The exact second you were at arms length from him, Carlisle’s fingers hooked into the belt loops of your jeans and yanked you forward, chests and mouths roughly colliding. Another growl vibrated between your bodies as his lips greedily attacked yours, his tongue dominating, claiming, while unusually forceful fingers and sturdy palms encircled your neck to better control the kiss. His teeth stung as they sunk into your bottom lip, and he swallowed your gasp with a wide, hungry mouth. 

Carlisle ended the kiss abruptly, parting from your lips with a wet, salacious smack, the hands on your neck sliding up to frame your face and hold your head steady. He dragged the pad of his thumb possessively over your spit-slicked lips, and as he took in your hooded eyelids and rosy cheeks, he discovered another thing he could pride himself on; he was the only person who got to see you like this—so undone and wanton.

You swallowed, taking a steadying breath in before self-consciously narrowing your eyes. “People are staring, Carlisle.”

An uncharacteristically wicked smirk pulled at his lips, and he let his gaze cast over your shoulder to the now appalled man, a triumphant swell in his chest urging his smirk into a wide grin. “Good.”

He looked down at you again, pressing another brief kiss to your lips before finally letting his hands fall from your face, a warmth spreading from his chest, traveling up his neck when your eyes twinkled happily—his twinkle.
Cassini Vanishes Into Saturn, Its Mission Celebrated and Mourned
Orbiting the ringed planet since 2004, the spacecraft solved some mysteries and made discoveries that upended our notions about the solar system.
By Kenneth Chang

NASA’s Cassini spacecraft, the intrepid robotic explorer of Saturn’s magnificent beauty, ended a journey of 20 years on Friday like a shooting star streaking across Saturn’s sky.

By design, the probe vanished into Saturn’s atmosphere, disintegrating moments after its final signal slipped away into the background noise of the solar system. Until the end, new measurements streamed one billion miles back to Earth, preceded by the spacecraft’s last picture show of dazzling sights from around our sun’s sixth planet.

“The signal from the spacecraft is gone and, within the next 45 seconds, so will be the spacecraft,” Earl Maize, the program manager, announced in the control room at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory here, just after 4:55 a.m. local time.

His eyes teared and his voice wavered as he said, “I am going to call this the end of mission.” During a news conference later, he said, “To the very end, the spacecraft did everything we asked.”

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