naamahdarling:

catphistopheles:

tastefullyoffensive:

We don’t deserve dogs.

Story time: 

I was working as a farm hand in Maine in 2012 when Sandy hit, against all odds. New Jersey absolutely had the worst of it, but we were hit with horizontal rain and incredibly intense winds, and none of the houses were really built for it. My boss was out of town and called to tell me I needed to move everything in the barnyard to inside the barn so it didn’t blow away or break or injure anything or anyone. 

They had a dog–a giant, GIANT all-white german shepherd named Dante that came up to my ribs when on all fours. (I’m 5′7″, not exactly short, either.) Dante was basically a dire wolf. He was still a puppy mentally and used to greet me with a happy dance every morning when I arrived at work. Dante, it turns out, was really afraid of storms, probably because they happened so rarely up there.

Point being: Here’s me, 140lbs when wet, trying to drag lumber and yard furniture into a barn without being slammed into the barn or to the ground or broken by the wildly swinging doors. At one point the wind almost carried me off and I was scared shitless. 

And out comes Dante from his nice, warm, safe, cozy dog condo thing. His tail was tucked and his ears were flat but he started walking with me from the lumber to the barn, back and forth. I wasn’t sure what he was doing and was too tired to really think about it until the wind picked up again and I almost toppled over–EXCEPT I DIDN’T, because Dante had braced himself and caught my weight with his side. 

Basically DANTE WAS KEEPING ME SAFE in the storm and he helped me finish up and crawled back into his safe little house when I was done. I snuck him a hefty handful of treats before I left. He was seriously the best dog Ever.

My mom had just died (at home, as peacefully as one can die from something as awful as cancer).

After holding her hand one more time, I retreated to the back of the house to ugly-cry. As one does, I rapidly became a fountain of tears and snot. I looked around for the box of Kleenex and to my distress, found it totally empty.

Then I turned around and my hand to god there was Skeeter, one of their Pomeranians, with the last Kleenex in his mouth. I was able to laugh then, and things were easier after that.

A) Animals are so good.

B) Pomeranians are smart, funny little dogs and their bad rap is totally undeserved.

I would like 50 more fake!married or fake!dating pls your recent one saved my life 💖

hermannsthumb:

i may not be able to do 50……but i can certainly do 1 hehehe

Hermann doesn’t typically lie–doesn’t even make an exception for white lies–but he, perhaps, may have once indicated to a few of his colleagues at the university that he had a boyfriend waiting for him at home in order to get himself out of a department outing to a bar. They were very understandable. And it worked so well the first time, Hermann thought it’d be foolish if he didn’t reuse the excuse to get out of a department barbecue a few months later (their date night, so sorry, they’ve been planning it for weeks.) And if Hermann reused the imaginary boyfriend as an excuse once more to cut out early from a mandatory department meeting a bit after that (he’s sick, you see, Hermann simply must rush home and tend to him immediately), and a few meetings after that for various reasons (anniversary dinner, more vague illnesses, etc etc etc) no one is the wiser.

Unfortunately, Hermann underestimated his colleagues’ interest in his personal life. They slip him an invitation for another department party with insistence that he bring his elusive boyfriend this time (since Hermann just seems so fond of him, and some of them are starting to think that he doesn’t even exist, wouldn’t that be funny?) and they won’t take no for an answer. Which is why Hermann has been forced to–debase himself like this. Find a last-minute date on Craigslist, of all places, or the entire ruse will collapse and everyone will know Hermann has been lying the entire time. Desperation leads one down truly strange avenues.

Keep reading

cherrynat:

do you ever read a piece of fanfic that is just so fucking spectacular that makes you actually feel things? 

boy, i swear to god, i’m so goddamn grateful for every single one of you writers, yall literally giving us entertainment for free almost every goddamn week; and this is not only for those gracious magnificent bastards that are practically gods because they’ve perfected (and keep developing) their craft, this is also to that little (and equally amazing) writer that is just starting and might not be the best at it, you my friend keep writing because practice makes perfect, don’t stop writing if that’s what makes you happy. i just want all of yall to know that i appreciate you so goddamn much and yall the fucking best

to every fanfic writer out there: i love you, u crazy motherfucker