R. I. P. Bill Paxton

With great sadness I learned today that one of the great actors from my childhood as passed today, at age 61. Bill Paxton was the type of cult-favorite actor who starred in a great array of sci-fi flicks from the 80′s and 90′s and of the only actors who was killed on-screen by an Alien, Terminator and Predator.

Rest In Peace Bill Paxton, and thank you for everything, childhood was a little more fun because of you!

quick drabble for the @rebelcaptainprompts theme “stardust” because my mind went here instead of something appropriately sentimental

“Change your password,” Cassian grouches, slumping into the seat opposite her in the U-Wing cockpit. Jyn doesn’t even look up from where she’s readying her blaster.


Cassian flicks the controls, slides his headphones on. “That thing gives you access to all our data files. It needs to be hard to guess.”

“Who says it’s not hard to guess?”

“Me. I guessed it.”

Jyn glares at him, though—and this may say something about their relationship—she doesn’t look all that surprised. “Are you serious? What the hell were you doing, trying to hack my account?”

Cassian shoves the headphones over his ears, turns to glare back at her. “Yes. If I can hack your account, anyone can hack your account.”

“Oh,” Jyn snarls, “so you were doing me a favor.”

“Yep.” Cassian sighs. “Jyn, your password can’t be stardust. It’s so transparent.”

“I added numbers.”

“Your birthday. That doesn’t help.”

Jyn props her feet up on the control panel, despite the fact that Cassian has told her not to do some fifty times now. He has to physically restrain himself from reaching over and swiping them off.

“I can remember it,” she shrugs.

Cassian groans. “That’s not the point.”

“It’s a lot of the point. Look, nobody’s going to guess it.”

“I guessed it!”

“Yeah, you.” She shrugs, frowning. “But you’re the only one on base who knows that name, so…”

This is enough of a surprise that Cassian has to glance over at her; that name—and all the weight associated with it—is so integral to the person she once was, to the person she’s become. It’s hard to imagine her without it.

Jyn’s looking studiously at the laces of her boots.

“Oh.” Cassian swallows. “Just me?”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “Yep.”

“Huh.” He pauses. He can read her well enough by now to know when not to press.

He clears his throat, switches tactics.

“You realize that means I can still hack your account though, right?”

“Yeah.” She waves a hand. “But it’s just you. What are you going to do?”

He huffs. “I could do plenty.”

“You already hacked my account. Did you do anything besides immediately log out and come yell at me to change my password?”

“No,” he glowers. “But next time, I might.”

She reaches over, and the way she pats his knee hovers somewhere between affectionate and condescending. She walks that line well.

“Sure,” she says. “Are we taking off any time soon, or what?”

Cassian rolls his eyes, shifts back to the control panel.

“Be patient,” he grumbles. “I’m working on it.”

When he glances back over at her, quick, he thinks he catches her smile.

mary-the-mark-maker  asked:

Would it be possible to get IDW Starscream and Thundercracker reacting to their SO touching or playing with their wings? and their wings reaction to their SO doing things? (like being cute among other things)


  • When you first play with his wings he gets snippy. They are sensitive, and do you know what kinds of oils are on your hands? You’re sure to damage them- somehow…
  • If you pester him enough he’ll let you touch them. As long as you follow his instructions exactly.
  • Once you get the hang of it he enjoys wing rubs; your hands are soft. You can feel his wings relax as you pet them.
  • His wings flutter when you do something adorable or compliment him. 
  • When you startle him they hike up and then flick. The first time you sneezed he jumped and his wings jerked.


  • He doesn’t particularly mind the first time you touch his wings, he just tells you to be careful. If you do something that feels odd his wings could involuntarily twitch and hit you.
  • You learn pretty quick what he likes because he hums and his motor purrs. He really likes when you scratch lightly right at the base of his wings.
  • It’s pretty funny how expressive his wings are. When he gets huffy they jerk hard, and when he’s worried they slick down. They flutter rapidly when you kiss him.
  • He likes to rest in the sun with you. He lays out on his tummy gazes at you lovingly, his wings fluttering slow and lazy like a butterfly’s. 

anonymous asked:

But the previous dudes she was involved with didn't last 17+ years like Mulder. Wonder if things would be the same if Mulder was ugly for example.

I don’t think that was because of their looks.  I think it was a mismatch with their personalities.  With Mulder, Scully’s switch got flicked and good.  Even if he weren’t as hot as he is, I think she’d believe he was the most handsome man in the world.  Like this quote from Doctor Who:

“You know when sometimes you meet someone so beautiful, and then you actually talk to them, and five minutes later they’re dull as a brick. But then there’s other people, and you meet them and you think ‘not bad, they’re okay’, and then you get to know them, and their face sort of becomes them, like their personality’s written all over it, and they just they turn into something so beautiful…”

I think there are plenty of people who think DD is weird-looking, including himself (per comments in interviews so old they’re chiseled into stone tablets), so everybody’s mileage varies.

ive seen very few movies in theaters the last year bc i dont have a, job? mostly i just sit at home and watch 1980s arthouse revenge flicks or lesbian porn. SO hope one of those sweeps 2night

#52 - For placidus

Filling the prompt “i was wondering if you could do a vanfic of van proposing like super lowkey tho ? like just sitting on the couch eating maccas or summat yknow ?”

Notes: I flat out refuse to write about eating McDonalds. I can do Lord of the Fries, though, but I don’t know if that’s just an Australian thing? Get around it, my friends. Haha. I am here for lowkey proposals though.


“Mmmmmmmm… no,”


“No.” You knew you were being very unhelpful. Van was flicking through the small collection of take out menus trying to determine what you would have for dinner. You didn’t want anything in particular; you said you weren’t picky, but you still shot down every suggestion.


“Maybe… Actually. No.”

“Alright. You look,” he said, defeated. He dropped the menus in your lap and you pushed through them, not reading. He watched you from the other side of the couch.

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anonymous asked:

Imagine if Rhysand and Aelin were a thing... I can't decide if I love that idea or hate it

Love it.
who is more likely to hurt the other?
Oof the two of them are like fire against fire, they’d piss each other off.
who is emotionally stronger?
Well they’ve both been through hell and back but I’m gonna say Rhysand on this one.
who is physically stronger?
Rhys probably? But Aelin is freakishly strong so
who is more likely to break a bone?
Aelin. She’s more of a “cash me ousside how bow dah” girl. Rhys would just flick darkness at his enemies.
who knows best what to say to upset the other?
Aelin. Hehe.
who is most likely to apologise first after an argument?
Rhys, duh.
who treats who’s wounds more often?
Rhys treats Aelin’s wounds cause she’s the physical one
who is in constant need of comfort?
who gets more jealous?
who’s most likely to walk out on the other?
Aelin could walk out, she knows how to sacrifice the things she loves for the greater good.
who will propose?
who has the most difficult parents?
who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public?
who comes up for the other all the time?
They both come up for each other 
who hogs the blankets?
Aelin duh
who gets more sad?
who is better at cheering the other up?
They’re both good at it, they share the power of sarcasm and sass
who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?
Rhys slaps aelin
who is more streetwise?
who is more wise?
Hehe both
who’s the shyest?
Neither are shy, but probably rhys
who boasts about the other more?
They’re too arrogant, they boast about themselves 
who sits on who’s lap?
Aelin sits on Rhys.

A creature being called the Murphysboro Mud Monster, or the Big Muddy Monster, was seen in Murphysboro, Illinois. It was first seen on June 25th, 1973 around midnight by Randy Needham and Judy Johnson. The couple were parked along the side of the road over looking the river. While the two were discussing whether they were going to stay or go home, Needham heard what he described as an “eagle shrieking into a microphone”. After flicking on the headlights to the car, the two were staring at a gigantic creature lumbering toward them. The two later described it as an “oversized gorilla” standing at an estimated 8 feet tall with mud-caked white hair covering its body. 

anonymous asked:

Connor/Kevin OR Arnold/Naba with 15 for the fluff trope?? <3

15. Blanket forts 


The lack of television sounds from their tiny living room usually means that her boyfriend isn’t home, but Nabulungi is later than usual and she doesn’t remember Arnold mentioning that he had plans tonight. She waits another moment to see if there is a reply, her arm raised and her woolen cap still in her hand, then gives up waiting for a response and throws it onto the hat rack and begins to shrug out of her winter coat.

A couple of minutes later she is flicking the light switch in the living room, then pauses. “Uh, Arnold?”

“Mm,” comes the muted reply from–whatever it is. Their bedspread, a patchwork of bright fabrics from Uganda, is draped over the couch and what Nabulungi assumes to be their kitchen chairs, forming a little private space on the carpet.

She kneels, lifts the corner of the bedspread and peers into the fort, finds her boyfriend on his back on the floor with his head propped up on a pillow as he stares at the makeshift ceiling. “Arnold?”

His eyes flicker to her for second, then back up. “Hey.”

Nabulungi waits a second for an explanation that doesn’t come, then begins to crawl inside, poking at Arnold’s shoulder until he moves enough for her to share his pillow. She lies down on her side, looking at his profile through the dim light. “What is the matter?”

He is silent for a moment, then replies with a dullness in his voice that is unusual for him. “I didn’t get in.”

It takes her less than a second to understand, but at least five to reply. “Oh.”

She doesn’t know what else to say, so she listens to the sound of his breathing for a while, sympathy weighing heavy in her chest.

“I don’t know what to do,” he says finally, and Nabulungi can hear his voice tremble. “I’m not really good at anything else. And apparently, I’m not good enough at writing, either.”

Nabulungi drapes her arm across his chest. “I’m sorry, Arnold. There are other writing classes.”

“What if they don’t want me either?”

“Then we’ll figure something else out.”

“It’s not just because it’s what I want to do. I'm—I’m just not good at anything else, you know?” He is still staring at the ceiling. “My dad was right when he said I should’ve been more like Kevin. He’s good at everything he does.”

It is the first time she has ever heard Arnold express any kind of bitterness over his best friend’s successes, academic or otherwise. Apparently it doesn’t help that Kevin sounds stressed more than anything else when he talks about school. “Except for converting people, you mean?”

He doesn’t laugh.

Nabulungi sighs. “Well then. If you were Kevin, I wouldn’t want to do this.” She leans close and pecks his cheek. “Or this.” She tightens the arm that is resting over his chest into a proper hug, draping her leg over his in the process. Then she stays there for a while, hugging every part of him that she can and is gratified to feel him finally relax and melt into her touch. Then he turns his head and struggles in her grip to be able to face her.

“Will you stay with me even if I’m poor and unemployed for the rest of my life?”

She smiles. “We are already poor. But we have food. And a place to live. And,” she kisses his eyebrow. “We have each other, Arnold. That’s all I want.”

He is quiet for a moment, then shuffles down and tucks his head beneath her chin, relaxing when she moves to accommodate for his new position. And Nabulungi thinks she might hear him mutter “but you deserve better” into her chest, but she pretends not to hear it, and they stay like that for a long while.  

Photography project (smut)

Hey mofos. Here’s another one of my bullshit writing. This has no names involved and vague body describing so you can easily use your imagination. As always the best make-up artist around here @malekbrosinc​ aka pamela aka pam helped me with my stupid ass spelling and grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

Warnings: none

Word count: 2,645

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Tiny Dancer ch. 5 (Sneak peek)

A/N: I broke my own heart with this chapter, I won’t lie to you

Holy shit it is you! It’s me, Gunner,” he says, pointing to himself.

Slowly, Gadreel turns to Gunner, shooting a pointed look at his hand. The other man quickly pulls away from him, holding his hand up defensively. “I’m sorry,” Gadreel begins. “You must have me mistaken for someone else, my name is Ezekiel,” he says. His voice never wavered, and his words were so convincing that even you were inclined to believe him. Kaleb began wiggling in his place, tugging at Gadreel’s sleeve. “Kaleb has to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” He flicks his eyes to Gunner, smiling softly. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah…” He lets his voice trail away, watching as Gadreel disappears into the crowd. As Gunner turns to leave, you grip his arm, pushing him against the wall and leaning in close. “Jesus lady,” he breathes as he tries to wiggle out of your grasp.

“Who are you?” you growl, your voice low.

“Gunner –”

“Who sent you, jackass?”

“UFC?” he squeaks, furrowing his brow and holding his hands up. People begin staring as they pass, bu you ignore them, your eyes trained on him. “I-I’ve got a boxing match tonight.”

“You’re…a boxer?” you ask, easing your grip on him. He nods frantically, nodding his head to the bathrooms.

“He looks exactly like this guy I knew…but….”


“Gad died, like, eight years ago,” he says, sighing. “And then I see this Ezekiel guy, I thought maybe I – maybe my best friend was back, somehow,” he adds, looking to the ground. You release him, nodding and taking a step back. Gunner chuckles, rubbing the back of his head. “You’d be his type, I think.”

“You think so?” you ask, chuckling. He nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Not your looks – he didn’t care about looks – but he loved a strong woman.” He rubs a hand over his chest, his smile wavering. “Someone who’d be the first one swinging in a bar fight.” Gunner taps the side of his head, biting his lip. “And someone to care for his mental.”


Kanako Moonweaver had a wonderful view of the La Noscean range. Honestly, it was rather breathtaking. The light breeze was welcoming as she waited for her acquaintance’s arrival. Her left hand clenched her right, bandaged arm as her gaze stared blankly over the horizon. She seemed off and almost on edge.

Even despite the humid heat, Ruran insisted on his armor. Light clanks followed him up the hill, where the typically-weary man spotted the familiar raen. “Hello, Kanako,” his quiet voice greeted. His head lightly tilted, noting her demeanor. “Is everything all right?”

Her eyes flicked to the side to see who it really was before she actually turned her head to acknowledge him. Closer to her, Ruran could likely notice bandages covering a majority of her exposed body. “Yes, well, actually, no. Though, I hope things will be fine in the future. You see, I am in need of your assistance, it’s something very important.”

Ruran’s brows furrowed behind his mask at the sight of the wrappings, and his tone was low with seriousness. “I…I shall assist in any way I can. What happened..? Were you attacked?”

Kanako averted her gaze away briefly, looking back towards the range as she recalled that day. “Yes, I was. Remember that void taint I had? Well, the man who gave it to me, his name is Crate. He’s a necromancer with a ‘pet’ voidsent. He left me alone, and I thought that would be that…but he came back. I don’t know why now of all times, but he came back, and he wants me dead. I managed to leave him in quite the poor state, but he’s still out there….I’m lucky I’m not dead.”

The knight narrowed his eyes and listened intently. His head shook, a hundred questions rising to the surface, but only a few escaping his throat. "Twelve. Where was he last seen? And do you have somewhere safe to stay? And—gods, do you need a healer?”

“The Shroud of all places,” she answered first, “the last place I thought I’d ever see him! I’ve been properly tended to, I just still need to wear bandages, and I have a safe place to stay. That is something you don’t need to worry about fretting over. To get to the point, I need your assistance in taking him down. I know his weakness and I know his tendencies, this is something that can be feasibly done if we don’t simply rush in.”

Ruran nodded firmly at the mention of the Shroud. “You are far from the Shroud, good. You have my sword, of course, and my whole support. Normally I would…still my blade against humankind, but I doubt you are the only victim, and to keep a voidsent as a pet…” His head shook with a sigh. “I cannot allow it.”

“He’s no man. A man which looks to something as dark as Necromancy does not deserve to live. I warn you, he’s a rather vulgar and mischievous man. It’s almost overbearing, but please don’t let that get to you.” She looked back to Ruran finally, her face showing a bit of concern, “And please, if you don’t think you can handle it, then don’t worry about it. I don’t want you risking your life and possibly loosing it because of me.”

The masked man canted his head, studying her for a long moment. "I see no reason why I should not help you. You need not worry for my life, as I am not worried for my own. Besides, you…nearly died for my sake,” he reminded, thinking of her body had stiffened with Doom. “If that is not reason enough to pursue your cause, I don’t know what is.” His head bowed. “You have my assurance to assist you, Kanako, as both a hunting companion…and a friend.”

{ @ghostiemaiden }

ereans  asked:

souharu + bounty hunter au????

“Target sighted,” Makoto murmurs, his finger flicking over the setting of his binoculars, focusing in on the tall figure in the crowd below that Haruka spotted just moments before him. “Which do you prefer today: darts or stunner?” 

Haruka mulls it over, drumming his fingers against the hotel window pane they’re set up beside, before turning to collect his gun with a terse, “Neither.” 

At Makoto’s look of confusion, he shrugs. “I’d like to see that dumb face of his up close when he realizes he’s been bested.”