Day One Hundred and Sixteen

-At the start of my shift, we had a team huddle to discuss store business matters. The first matter, and most important, was us all sampling the new Unicorn Frappuccino. A quality meeting, if I have ever been to one.

-An elderly woman remarked to me that it smelled like something was burning and asked if someone had burned popcorn. As a result, she spent the remainder of the transaction cackling to herself. If she thought that her joke was a funny one, I believe I may have finally found a good audience for my comedy.

-A Chubby Puppy wind-up toy was left at my register. I have named her Juniper and I love her, inability to walk in anything but a circle and all.

-In regards to the card reader before him, an older gentleman noted, “This seems like a pretty nice keyboard. I think I can solve it.” He inspires a great deal of faith in me. I think he can solve it, too.

-An older woman asked me if anything that she had purchased was on Cartwheel. I told her that I did not know off the top of my head, at which point she responded by glaring at me threateningly and telling me that I looked smart, so I had better be sure and I had better be right. Luckily, I know very few things in life, so it is more than likely that Cartwheel offers fall into this category.

-A couple bantered over how much they had each spent. The woman, having bought the most, said, “It makes sense, you are cheaper than me.” After a moment, the man replied, “I’m trying to think of something to say, but you drove and you’re paying.” Not since Machiavelli has one held all of the cards so masterfully.

-A sweet grandfatherly man, sporting a pinstripe shirt that seemed to have been with him as long as his timeless smile, came through holding a purple and yellow rubber ball. He asked me if I thought it would be good for four square before pausing for a moment and asking me if I knew what four square is. Overjoyed when I said yes, he told me of his plans to teach the neighborhood kids and help them be more active. He then said that he was going to go let his friends know that the ball would work. I later saw him with a pair of women, each as happy and smiling as himself. This man knows all that one needs in life, and I hope to one day learn from him.

-A young girl noted Juniper by my register and asked if she could pet her. I naturally said yes, as long as she was careful. Gently cupping the pup in her hands, she complimented me on how soft my plastic friend was.


omg he’s so tiny and cute can I have one?

Killer stricks again

“Hey there big fella!”

“Do you want a new friend?”

“Hah! Well come on over here!”

“Now hold out your, uhh- paws?”

“Be careful with it, okay?”

“Another one claimed by Killer, the poor soul didn’t even have a chance.”

Okay, do I don’t know it its name will actually be called Killer, but he could easily be mistaken for something that has seen it’s fair share of blood! Too bad that’s far from the truth!


the good drugs - olicity - 1/1

for@latinasmoak – thank you for your support and being amazing!

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day…” 

“Okay, well, that was my cheek,” Felicity grunted. She was mostly dragging Oliver across the apartment floor toward the nearest flat surface, which just so happened to be the couch. “But, thank you… I think. I just got a new moisturizer.” 

“You smell good.” 

She snorted. “Now I know you’re lying, because I definitely stink. Lugging you around has worked up a sweat.” 

He hummed. “Like coffee and ink and that hand lotion you use…” 

“The ink is because I had to wrestle with the printer earlier. You’d think with something so expensive, it wouldn’t get so many paper jams, but nope. I won though, just FYI.” Felicity made sure he was comfortably laid out on the couch and moved to his feet to pull off his shoes. “I’m surprised you let them put you under for your root canal. I was expecting more of a fight.” 

He grunted, his eyes at half-mast. “Had enough pain,” he murmured. 

Keep reading


柴犬の赤ちゃん 燐五(りんご)

anonymous asked:

OMG okay so I was looking through your blog "tinyparser" (I think it was that one??) and I saw mention of Dallas and doggies?? I can't breathe oh my god because I love Dallas and I love dogs and I need more details (are there other dogs besides sadie? what are their names? what kinds of dogs are they? if there aren't more, does he want more? does he volunteer at a rescue? -- oh my god now I'm imaging Mal getting all mushy watching Dallas bottle feed puppies - trying to act like he's not smitten)


he has so many dogs.. and he volunteers with Phoebus!! All his dogs are rescued and for his depression… He Gets So Emotional About His Dogs. He takes care of all of them, he loves them dearly. Ghgghg thinking about Dallas and his dogs make me so emotional they’re all handsome good boys.

Dog Luvrs:
Dallas (4 dogs)
Phoebus (At Least 10 Dogs, No, I Didn’t Lose Count, No, None Of Them Are Stolen, Promise)
Poppy (Pani, Puri, Patches, and Patchy)

Puppies - Conor Sheary and Bryan Prust (PT Diaries, Episode 12)

Requested by anon: Would you please do a pt diaries part with Conor Sheary maybe? Or Bryan Rust? Thank you!

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I hope you like it!

Word count: 1005

Warnings: none.

Episode 1  Episode 2  Episode 3  Episode 4  Episode 5  Episode 6  Episode 7  Episode 8  Episode 9  Episode 10  Episode 11

Master list

Originally posted by intermissionpenguins

I can hear Conor and Bryan walking across the hall from my spot in the therapy room; they are excited about something and they won’t stop screaming.

“Dude, that one is adorable.” Conor says, walking in the room with a huge smile on his face. They are both looking at Bryan’s phone.

“But these ones grow a lot, don’t they?” Bryan wonders, scrolling down and stopping to read something. “I don’t want him to be like Beckham.”

“Beckham is the cutest thing ever.” Conor answers. Wait, what? Are they talking about David Beckham?

“Agreed, David Beckham is such a babe.” I tell them and both of their heads shoot straight up, looking at me from the door.

“You will agree with us when we say that Beckham Murray is way cuter than David Beckham.” Conor pulls out his phone from his pocket and types something, walking towards me and showing me the screen.

I have to contain a squeak when I see Matt Murray with a huge ball of fluff on the screen. I knew that Matt has a dog because he never shuts up about it, but I didn’t know that his dog was the size of a horse.

“Agreed. He is the better Beckham.” I chuckle and they nod. “So you two are stalking the guys’ dogs?” I ask while I put another yoga mat on the floor. Conor and Bryan are quite young and they don’t need much treatment, so we normally do Pilates, which they hate and love at the same time.

“We are looking at dogs for Rusty here.” Conor pats Bryan on the arm while he says it, making me laugh. Neither of them are really that big if you compare them with other hockey players, but Bryan has at least three inches and twenty pounds on Conor.

“That’s awesome.” I answer, taking my shoes off and sitting on my mat, waiting for them to do the same. “What breed do you want?”

“I want him to get a big dog. Maybe a German Shepard or a Golden Retriever.” Conor answers before Bryan can say a word. “Or even bigger, like Beckham or Geoffrey.” I’ve seen Geno’s dog before when one day he confessed that he misses the dog almost as much as he misses his family.

“Man, I don’t have that much space.” Bryan sits down, but keeps scrolling down what I assume is Pet CO’s website. “Think more Stella Kessel and less GiGi Wilson.”

And I can’t stop myself from laughing at how they talk about the team’s puppies like they are actual people. I know how great is to have a puppy, I have one myself, but it is just hilarious to see how serious these guys, and the rest of the team, are about their dogs.

“Are you buying or adopting?” I wonder, shooting Conor a filthy look so he sits down on the mat so we can start with today’s session.

“Buying.” Conor says.

“I don’t know.” Bryan says at the same time as Conor.

I roll my eyes, stretching my back. I’ve been on my feet all day massaging and putting elastic therapeutic tape on everyone.

“Maybe you should figure that out.” I suggest, indicating them that we are going to start with the exercises of the day.

We start slow, doing stretches and easy exercises. From time to time I make them do embarrassing ones like the siren, which consist on sitting down with both their legs on one side of your body like a mermaid and stretch your back, but those are just for my person amusement.

“Maybe I should adopt one.” Bryan is still thinking about the puppy. “There are a lot of dogs in shelters. The dogs in our calendar are always adorable.”

We are doing the, as Conor likes to call it, ‘rolling like a ball’ position, so his voice is muffled by his own body.

“Yeah, you should do that.” Conor says, struggling with his balance. “We got Damian from a shelter and he is the greatest dog ever.”

“Do you have pets, (y/n)?” Bryan asks and I nod, changing to a most advanced position that sucks but it is great for the hips and core. “Ugh, I have so much respect for the women that do Pilates on a regular basis.”

“I have a puppy.” I chuckle, taking deep breaths and trying to hold the position as long as I can. “She is a little piece of shit.”

“Why?” Conor asks, more interested on my dog than he is in doing the exercises correctly.

“She is so spoilt. She always gets what she wants.” I confess. I just can’t say no to that cute little face. I used to say that I wouldn’t let my dog sleep on my bed or beg for food and here I am, feeding her chicken breasts and snuggling up with her in my bed every night.

“What breed is she?” Conor is just sitting down at this point, not doing anything.

“She is a corgi.” I answer, thinking on my short legged, chubby puppy. “I feel really royal having her.” I say, referencing the Queen of England’s dogs.

“(y/n)!” I hear from my office and I get on my feet fast, thinking that there is something wrong.

I open the door and next thing I know is that a puppy is jumping all over me, seeking attention and belly rubs. I look up to find a very smiley Bryan Rust, who is carrying a bright pink leash on his hand.

“(y/n), I want to introduce you to (y/n).” He says, smiling even brighter and making my heart flutter. I can’t identify (y/n)’s breed, so I assume that she is a mix of many breeds.

“You named your dog after me?” I wonder, getting on my knees to rub the puppy’s belly. The dog just lies on her back and enjoys the rubs.

“It seemed fitting.” He just answers and I laugh. “She is the most sassy yet awesome dog I know.”

anonymous asked:

I know I'm late (super late), but in your head canon, what is the story behind the Mabari that Rose and Cullen adopted?

Ahh, Pup.

Originally from Ferelden, Pup was adopted by an Orlesian noble whose child took a fancy to having a “puppy.” Her name (before Pup) was Foo-Foo. She hated it. Passionately. She also hated being in Orlais. It was all wrong. None of the people around her knew what she needed. Being a good dog, she tried to adapt. She put up with the little Orlesian’s games of dress-up. She learned to appreciate too-rich food and too-little exercise. 

But she kept growing. She got bigger and bigger. Less and less “cute.” All her baby puppy chubbiness became mabari muscle, and muscle wasn’t adorable. The little Orlesian grew tired of her. Petitioned for a smaller puppy; one she could carry around like all the other Orlesians did. Pup shrank into herself, growing sadder and sadder. One day, the little Orlesian–whose Papa was always saying, “You have a dog. Play with that one.’–decided the best way to get what she wanted was to get rid of Foo-Foo. She wasn’t so horrible that she considered anything truly cruel, she just let her out of the kennels and told her not to come back.

Pup, though heartbroken, did not need to be told twice. 

She wandered, never quite sure what she was looking for, but knowing she hadn’t found it yet. Then, that day at the Winter Palace (always good for scrounging scraps, big fancy parties), she saw Cullen. Or, rather, she heard him first. And though she’d been away from Ferelden a very long time, she knew that accent. It sounded so much more like home than Orlesian ever had. It reminded her of mother’s milk and warmth and gentle hands.

She didn’t approach the Fereldan at once. She was too afraid of being ignored. Much as she hadn’t liked her life as Foo-Foo, she was a mabari; it still hurt to be told to go, Foo-Foo, go and never come back, I want a new puppy. She might never have approached him at all, if she hadn’t seen him duck into the shadows and put a hand over his face. She didn’t know how she knew it, but the right thing to do seemed to be to approach and to push her big head up under the hand still dangling at his side, pushing her shoulder against his thigh.

He startled, but did not pull away, and when he opened his eyes, she saw nothing but delight in them. When he called her, “Pup” it felt like coming home. To his credit, he did spend quite a long time trying to find her owner, but of course there was no owner to find. And Pup knew where she wanted to be. More than that, she knew this human was her human. It didn’t take him long to catch up and realize the same thing.

My favorite bit of headcanon about Pup, though, is this post here. She settles into the role of therapy dog instantly. Fighting doesn’t make sense to her. And somehow when Rose ties ribbons around her neck it’s not like being Foo-Foo at all.