what do we call him

Okay, republicans. Trump is the president now. So what is our duty to him?

Nothing.

What should we strive to do in regard to Trump?

Call him out when he’s wrong, and recognize him when he’s right.

This is the only way we can protect our intellectual consistency.

ENTP Troll

INTP: Thesis: ENTP only exists because he pisses people off and if we lock him up where he can’t, he’ll just fade away.

ISTJ: Is that….a legally testable theory?

ISTP: No, but it IS a testable one! Someone go get a cage, I’ll find ENTP.

ISTJ: What will we do when someone calls looking for him?

INTP: Trust me, no one wants him back.

[ Imagine scaring Tig ] - gonna keep this one short and sweet lol

“Hey, baby,” Tig greeted as he walked up to you. He threw his arms around your shoulders and planted a kiss at your temple. “What are we doing here?”

You had called Tig earlier and asked him to meet you. You knew nothing was really going on with the club today, so you thought it would be the perfect opportunity to spend a day with your old man as an average, normal couple. Heavens knows you and Tig were anything but average or normal, but sometimes it was nice to pretend.

You shrugged and leaned into him. “Just thought we could look at some furniture for the house.” 

Tig nodded his head and glanced at the store you were parked in front of. “What is this place?” He pulled his sunglasses away from his eyes and placed them in the pocket of his cut. “Smells like my grandma’s old couch out here.”

You flashed him a smile and pulled on his hand. “Shut up and come on.”

——————————————————————————————-

“Hey, babe, come look at this!” 

You had disappeared somewhere around the corner of the little antique shop, leaving Tig standing at the front of the store by himself. He had gotten so distracted looking at some of the old antique jewelry, he hadn’t even noticed you had walked away. 

“Where you at?” he called, glancing around the expansive store. 

“Over here!”

Tig shook his head and rolled his eyes. You annoyed the shit out of him most of the time, but he loved you anyway. He took a few steps towards the direction of your voice, his eyes scouring the store with every step. Something about this place gave him the creeps. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew he didn’t like it. He had never been a fan of antiques - he didn’t know where all that junk had been over the years - but he especially didn’t like this particular shop.

“You about ready to go, doll?” he asked, his voice sounding uneasy. He continued to walk ahead. “This place is givin’ me the creeps.”

Tig continued to walk forward. He was already creeped out, and your not responding to him wasn’t making it any better. “Babe?” he asked again, stopping and peering around the corner. He noticed a small room off to the side. It looked to be dark inside. That little room seemed ominous to him somehow. Tig glanced around the back portion of the store. You were nowhere to be found, and he was getting more and more uneasy by the second. 

“Babe, where you at?” 

Tig walked towards the small room. There weren’t many things in this life that freaked Tig out, but this antique shop was definitely doing the trick.

Tig approached the door to the room. “Babe?” The door was pulled shut, only a tiny crack allowing the light from the rest of the shop to shine through into that tiny, creepy room. He tried to peer in, but it was too dark. He couldn’t see what was inside. 

Tig swallowed hard and pushed on the door. The door swung back with a loud creak. “Y/N?” He took a step inside the room. It was so dark, he couldn’t see a thing. He took another step forward, one hand still on the door and the other searching the wall for a light switch. “Baby, come on,” he groaned, “This place is creeping me out.” He took another few steps. Then he ran directly into what felt like a shelf. Tig let out a muffled yelp and jumped to his right. Something tickled his cheek, causing him to let out another yelp. He looked up, realizing that it was a hanging light switch touching his cheek. He swallowed hard and let out a deep breath. He was just working himself up over nothing. He took the string in his hand and pulled. Then the lights came on.

Tig’s eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. The room was smaller than he expected it to be, and it was filled to the ceiling with the bane of his existence: dolls.  

“Oh,” Tig whispered to himself, his blue eyes full of sheer terror. There was shelf after shelf and box after box packed inside that tiny room, and every single one was filled to the brim with antique dolls. “Oh, no,” Tig breathed. He shook his head. “No fucking way.” The doll’s eyes seemed to be staring through his very soul. He took a few steps backwards, stumbling over a few more boxes of the antique dolls as he went. He fell backwards and found himself ass-first in a box full of the damn things. Just then, out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the larger dolls perched on the shelf begin to move. Her head cocked to the side, like she was taunting him. Another doll nearby let out a high-pitched squeal. “Jesus Christ!” Tig yelled, springing to his feet and making a beeline for the door. He turned back to face the dolls. Somehow, looking into their horrible glass eyes was better than turning his back to them. “Oh, God,” he mumbled as their eyes watched him. He continued to back up until his back hit the door, then he turned and ran towards the front of the store. 

The second Tig left the room, you stepped out from behind the shelf. Your entire body shook with the laughter you had been trying to hold in for the last few minutes. You knew it was mean to tease Tig about his fear of dolls, but you couldn’t help yourself. He had been giving you shit for weeks. This was just your way of paying him back.

You walked out of the room, feeling satisfied with yourself as you made your way outside to see how much mental scarring you had inflicted upon your old man. You didn’t yet realize that Tig had already gotten the hell out there and was halfway home.

8

Hello?

8

Surely magic should be magical? Surely magic is to dream? Where is the wonder of England’s past? Of magic’s golden age? There is no mention of the Raven King, except to insult him and strike him low, to purge him from what we do. Norrell calls this the magic of the modern age. I say it is commonplace, mundane. I say that there is much more to English magic than this. There is no mention of the discoveries I have made at my peril. No mention of the Raven King’s Roads - or why they have been hidden behind the mirrors of England. Norrell is too afraid to question why The Raven King would do such a thing, too afraid to explore where those roads might lead. Afraid it will take us to places we never intended to go.

“He’s My Baby!” What a Baby Pt.2 (Pack Imagine)

Request by anon: Please do a part 2 to what a baby where Liam falls asleep in the reader’s lap and he starts to have night terrors and she slowly rocks him in her arms trying to comfort him and the pack look at her like wtf and she tells them to lay off and that he’s practically her baby so she continues to comfort Liam and tells him to ignore everyone’s comments simply be they’re jealous of how much she loves him and cares for him please x

Warning: Anger, i think a few cuss words, and jealousy 

Word Count: 1455

Masterlist 

Part 1

Keep reading

2

- Don’t you have signal here? - You sit besides him and Peter looks at you confused.

- Signal? - You look at him.

- Yeah… I mean, for my phone… - He raise an eyebrow.

- Phone? What’s that? - You show it to him and he grabs it. - Felix! - Pan calls him, and seconds later he appears. 

- What do we have here? - Felix takes the phone that Pan just gave to him.

- You tell me. - Pan sees you. - She says it’s a “phone”… - They both looks at you.

- Don’t you have cell phones here? - They don’t reply. - Here, let me show you something. - You take it and seconds later, put some rock music.

- What’s that? Turn it off. - Peter makes a disgusting face.

- It’s Rock… - You keep it on.

- Stop it! - You don’t care about what he just said, so he grabs it and destroys it.

- Hey!! My phone!! - You pick the pieces from the floor.

- I made you a favour… - You notice all the lost boys around you, Felix making a step back, and Peter looking at you. - Don’t ever bring that “Rock music” here again. 

- Party killer. - You stand up and leave.

2

Anonymous | (x)

Dean: Did he just turn into a toad?

Castiel: I think this was Y/N’s work.

Sam: Obviously but the question now is why is he a toad and what are we gonna do with him? *phone rings* Wait, Y/N’s calling.

Y/N: The toad’s the bad guy! I mean I turned the bad guy into a the toad. Just bring the toad over I’ll explain everything!.