i came up with this out of nowhere

The leftmost caption says my university has an ancient cuneiform tablet that appeared out of nowhere and nobody can figure out where it came from or why we have it, especially since it’s completely unlike anything in the library’s other collections

I’d be less unhappy about this if my school wasn’t right up against the Arctic tree line, in a polar region, where half the Cthulhu mythos is said to take place

anonymous asked:

paynetongate makes me uncomfortable bc cleveland is my city RIP

::hands you some comforting snacks::

Samesies! I had thought originally last year that it looked it might maybe may be a forced outting scandal thingy, but then Cherliam came out of nowhere and it didn’t happen (which I was really glad i was wrong about, tbh). Maybe Jordan’s just going to be part of a Laddy Bruh Pal™ Crew in LA similar to Oli and Calvin. I’m not entirely sure, but he’s back around after a year (at the same time solo!Liam stuff appears to be amping up, so the timing is suspish), so we’ll see what happens. 

I fucking hate languages.

The Greeks had this word, right, we have no idea where it came from, it just kinda popped up out of nowhere, and it could mean either apples, cheeks, or boobs. Problem is it looked and sounded *exactly* like another, unrelated word which could mean sheep, goat, or any animal in general really, which must have got confusing if you were a farmer talking about your livestock, but anyway…

Then the Romans, having stolen practically everything else from the Greeks, thought they’d nick this word too, because Latin isn’t confusing enough without throwing in a bunch of loan words. And they adopted it to mean a pumpkin.

Then the English came along and were all like “when in Rome”, and stole it, where it became our word ‘melon’. Which has now come back to mean boobs.

How do you like them apples.


Reader x McCall Pack, Reader x Hale Pack

Requested By Anon

“Hey (Y/N) you wanna help Isaac out?” Derek asked and you stopped your search for your brother as you spotted Derek rearranging what looked like a box of chains.

“No offence I don’t think Mr Grey was a werewolf.” You told him and he chuckled.

“Yeah but werewolves are better, let me tie Isaac up and show you.” Derek smiled when your eyes widened and you blushed.

“Oh wow Derek that was just bad.” Isaac mumbled as he rubbed the back of his head. “Besides, (Y/N0 should be tied up so I can roam freely.”

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“he has too much of his father in him” says beru, thinking of all the stories shmi told about her amazing jedi son

“that’s what i’m afraid of” says owen, thinking of that grumpy dude who showed up out of nowhere then disappeared for a while and came back with his step-mom’s dead body, then smashed up a bunch of their stuff, stole their droid and fucked off without saying goodbye

“logan was an awful jerk!!! he was the worst!!”

k well maybe u forgot that he:

  • respected rory as a reporter (he literally gives her the nickname ‘ace’. he’s literally calling her a great reporter)
  • he comforted rory when her boyfriend broke up with her in public 
  • was upfront to rory about what kind of guy he was (he told her that he had only had casual rel. before. he didnt hide it and understood that rory didnt feel the same)
  • lent his car and driver to rory bc her mom was upset 
  • he asked her for permission before they had sex. he. literally. asked. for. her. consent.
  • he recognized his feelings for rory and gave up his other casual relationships bc he liked her sm
  • he stood up to his shitty family who were awful to her
  • he understood that she was upset and wanted to talk to her about it
  • understood that rory needed to make her own decisions about school. (i know a lot of ppl hate him for this but honestly…wtf was he supposed to do? he challenged her by not demanding that she go back— he let her do what she thought was best for her)
  • the entire vineyard valentine episode
  • he respected lorelai and all the work that she went through in running away raising rory. he makes an effort to understand her and her relationship with rory.
  • “if you come with me i wont get on the plane”
  • the love rocket
  • he literally got so happy and excited about work and he was super good at it. a real work dork
  • faked a meteor shower
  • “im tired of not being around you.”
  • accepted that he made the wrong decision and took responsibility for it
  • denounced his family and gave up his wealth to start fresh and work hard to earn his own money
  • “I want to work. I’m ready to work. And I want to work hard.” 
Episode 197: Cecil Baldwin

There’s no real podcasting precedent for Welcome to Night Vale. In the decade or so since I started podcasting, I’ve never seen a phenomenon like it. The show seemingly came out of nowhere and shot to the top of the iTunes chart with loyal fanbase built up around Tumblr communities, creating fan art and fiction and dressing up as their favorite characters whenever the show rolls through town.

The brainchild of writers Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor, the show centers on the goings on of a small desert town somewhere in the southwest, an impossible place where occult creatures are commonplace and conspiracies are the law of the land.

Baldwin, a Neo-Futurist actor based in New York, portrays Cecil Palmer, the host, main character and moral center of the program, imbuing the character and show with a hypnotic voice and elements of his real life personality that have become a rallying point for so much of the show’s communal nature.

In honor of Night Vale’s 100th episode, we sat down with Baldwin to discuss the show’s origin, his acting history and the recent announcement that he is HIV positive.

For fans of Welcome to Night Vale:

Episode 095: Jeffrey Cranor

Episode 169: Mara Wilson

Episode 195: Julian Koster

fic: Hail to the Chief., 1/1. (AU; Captain Swan.)

presidential campaign AU, with speechwriter-Killian and volunteer-Emma!
9,882 words | adult | AO3

a/n: This came out of almost nowhere at lunchtime yesterday, and I was hellbent on getting it done, because it’s kind of timely. On the other hand, if you’re reading this, and you’re eligible and able to vote, but haven’t done so yet, please go do that instead. :D 

It’s not really altruism that led her here.

Or, well, not entirely altruism.

Because while you can be hungry, tired, and homeless and still want good things for the country, you have to prioritize, and finding yourself a place to sleep for the night beats finding a rich politician a place to sleep for the next four years.

It does turn out, however, that helping that politician often comes with free pizza and that sleeping in the campaign office — whether or not it’s because you don’t have anywhere else to go — is the mark of a dedicated volunteer.

Dedicated enough to accidentally end up on the payroll.

And that is what actually led her here.

To election night in New York City and Killian Jones’ hand on her breast in the moment after they call Nevada for Mills.

(Of course, a lot of stuff happened in between.)

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On the morning of the 2016 Capital Radio Summertime Ball, an anxiety attack hit me like a fucking freight train. I felt sick. I couldn’t breathe. The idea of it totally freaked me out and I was paralysed with anxiety. This overwhelming fear just kicked in out of nowhere, bringing with it a shitstorm of self-doubt.
When my management team came over to see what was wrong, I was on total psychological lockdown. I would make a move to walk out of the house, to get into a car that would then drive me to Wembley, but I could only manage a few paces before I hit an imaginary wall. It stopped me in my tracks, and I would have to sit down again.
The plan is to start performing smaller venues and work my way up from there. This anxiety isn’t going to get the better of me.
—  Excerpts from Zayn’s book.
It Could Be a Heart-Shaped World, If She Let It, and If He Asked

by: mldrgrl
Rated: PG
Summary: For @leiascully‘s snowed in challenge.

Mulder was nervous, and he was never nervous when it came to driving, but he was really really nervous.  He’d grown up bearing New England storms with the best of them and couldn’t count the number of blizzards he’d faced.  And if experience had taught him anything, it was that they really should not have been on the road that night.

The storm had come out of nowhere.  Weathermen were notoriously inaccurate, but the forecast had only called for a light dusting of snow.  Somehow, somewhere between Pittsburg and wherever the hell they were, meteorologists were about to get a lot of hate mail.    This was no light dusting of snow.  In fact, Mulder was pretty sure they were in white-out conditions.

“Scully,” he said, waking his partner who’d dozed off before the flakes had turned so ominous.

“Hm, we there?” she asked, rousing in the passenger seat.  “Jesus, Mulder!”

“I think we need to stop.”

“How did it get so bad so quickly?”

“I don’t know, want me to call Holman Hardt and ask?”

“We need to stop.”

“I already said that.”

He had slowed the car to a crawl even before he woke Scully, but moved even slower as the road curved and he tried to find the middle.  He hadn’t seen another car in either direction for nearly an hour and the forest on either side of them blocked everything else.  She tried her cell phone, but got no service.

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I fall in love with people’s minds. I fall in love with thoughts and ideas and words.  That’s how I fall in love with people. That’s how I fall in love.
—  What it Means to be Demiromantic, an excerpt from my journal (via @snakeminded)

You made a series of mirrored shields that you distributed to people on the front lines. How did that come about?

I was inspired by these activists in the Ukraine. These women — old women and children — and they came out and carried mirrors from their bathrooms and into the street to show these riot policemen what they looked like. From the photos I saw, it seemed profoundly effective. I wanted to bring that same level of recognition to the front lines there.

But Standing Rock is in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t want people to bring mirrors to the front line and get hit with batons and cause more damage than good. So what we needed was a mirrored shield. So I came up with a simple, easy and cheap design to make these mirrored shields using vinyl and Masonite — materials you can find in any hardware store. From one sheet of Masonite, you could make six shields.

I started making them after that Sunday that they were hitting people with hoses. I personally made close to 100 of them. But then another group out of Minneapolis made 500. I have no idea how many are in circulation. But I keep seeing them here and there.

What role do you think artists can have in protest?

Being an artist, it is a way to weaponize privilege. I could have been on the front line a dozen times, but my wife said, “You are one person there; you are 10,000 here — where you can engage all of these resources.”

–Cannupa Hanska Luger interviewed in the L.A. Times by Carolina A. Miranda


“You didn’t have to flirt with him!” Raphael’s words came out of nowhere.
You hadn’t flirted with anybody, just listened to the other vampire’s offers before declining them friendly.

“What?”, was all you asked back, as you didn’t get what his problem was.
But he only looked angry at you, his jaw tensed up 

“Oh that is how you want to play? Coming up with something stupid like that and now playing the hurt child? You know what? I haven’t flirted with anybody and I have no reason to apologize. If you can’t trust me, it’s your problem, not mine.”

Well that clearly got his attention. His anger seemed to be gone from one second to the other, but yours wasn’t.
So you didn’t even give him a chance for apologizing by leaving the room and leaving him behind. 

requested by anon

You can find all my Imagines|Confessions here
Requests for Imagines|Confessions are open. Send me some ^^

literally every time I see khadgar all I can think of is how it feels real fucking weird that he’s doing this because he came out of shitass nowhere to be the main character for draenor and now again for legion and like it’s just so fucking weird because there was so much build up for wrathion to be calling the shots for legion and for jaina to be leading dalaran And Yet Here We Are, a conventionally attractive old white man taking both roles of one of the few female main characters in the game and one of the only if not the only PoC main character in the game

but it’s okay, because he’s got Quirky Catchphrases™

I Love To Hate You

TITLE: I Love To Hate You


AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki and you dislike each other, but you are forced into an arranged marriage and as time goes by, it barely gets better. It seems to be a marriage that will hardly be amiable but certain events causes Loki to be the husband you never thought he could be. 


NOTES/WARNINGS: Came up with this idea out of nowhere, so hopefully it will go as my mind plans. 

Loki and Thor stood at their mother’s sides, anxiously awaiting the carriages that were making their way from the gates to the palace. They had heard so much of the Vanir royal family from their mother, who had always been the closest friend and confidante of the now Queen of Vanaheim. Thor hopped up and down in excitement; but was quickly reprimand by his parents for his actions, while Loki stood stoic still. The brothers were told that the Vanir royal family had a child very similar to them in age, which to Thor meant the prospect of a new friend; however Loki was more apprehensive than his older brother, he was not as outgoing and preferred quiet and more sedate activities to the other prince.

As the carriages pulled up in front of the palace, the grandest one came to a halt just in front of them. A coachman opened the ornate door and soon after, the Vanir King exited, followed by his Queen, and finally came a young girl.

To Loki, the Vanir royals seemed comparable to the Aesir in most every way, just that they were a tad shorter, and though they were identical in features, their attire differed immensely in style.

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I can’t wait for the day when I have my other half, my special someone, my soul mate. And I wake up, and he’s there. The sun will be slightly streaming through the curtains, showing all the colours of his face, the slight rose in his cheeks, the delightful pink of his lips, curled up in a tiny smile, as if he’s dreaming of something wonderful. I’ll let him have all the covers. We will fall asleep holding hands, and I’ll wake up wrapped up tightly to his chest. Nowhere I feel more at home than in his arms. It will be the simple things: sharing bubble baths, coming home to a delicious dinner after a long day of work with candles and flowers and him, standing there in a sweater smiling because I came home to him. Weekend outings to markets, or cafes, or movies, or walks in the park, arm in arm or hand in hand, piggy back rides when legs get weary and legs over legs, head on lap or head on shoulder while looking at the sky together, reading books, watching movies. Wandering second hand shops and finding each other little presents and surprising each other when we get home. Travelling the world together. Sharing sandwiches and him trading with me because I liked his better. Me, cooking him pancakes and fresh juice, bringing it to him in bed with the paper. Him, ignoring said paper and pancakes momentarily while he kisses me and kisses me and loving me. Endless mornings like these. The support. The moments where I need him and he’s there: on the phone, in person, whenever. The times when we are apart and I come home or he comes home and we still run up to each other, bags get thrown to the ground while we embrace and it’s like he never gets old. Nothing is ever boring or simple. It’s always exciting and wonderful and magical. And his face is the last thing I see and the first thing I see and all I want to see and all I dream about. Never wanting to be apart. Always wanting to be in his arms. The feeling of his hands brushing my face, my arm, my leg. Like electricity and warmth and all the energy in the world. The way his smile makes me smile. The way his laugh makes my heart grow inside my chest. The way his eyes make me lose my breath. The way he can simply look at me and I know he loves me, I feel loved and beautiful and special and he doesn’t even need to say it. How I can be so sad, so distraught, and nothing but his gentle voice, words and embraces will help. The way he wants me to be his one and only forever and have children with me. The way I know he is going to be an amazing father. And the way I know he’s going to love his children as much as he loves their mother, and how happy I will be for all of them to share that kind of love. 
And how I know our love will never die. Even when we do. Even when we grow and change and wither. He will always make me feel the same way. 
And I haven’t met him yet. But when I do, oh boy, it’s going to be something super extraordinary.
—  Diary Entry // 15th January 2017