Bloody hell, some of them are looking right at the camera. Not like an accident. More like I WILL FIND YOU AND KILL ALL OF YOUR FUCKING OFFSPRING.
A wedding photographer took this picture from a rooftop to get a bird’s eye view of a wedding in progress. Something seemed odd about the balcony in the top right portion of the photograph.
This is what the photographer found when they zoomed in.
Zoomed out picture for extra creeps
ooc:well fuck thats fucking creepy as shit
When a group of dog rescuers arrived at the market to show the dogs available for adoption, somebody had left 12 puppies on the street – 8 of them were approximately 5 weeks old.
In shock, the rescuers didn’t know what to do. The group had recently canceled several adoption days at the market because of bad weather, so they were over their capacity with puppies still needing to be adopted out. Also, the abandoned puppies were so small that they needed to be fed every two hours, including at night.
That’s when a spayed stray dog approached, lay down beside the shoe box where the puppies were sleeping, and began caring for them.
She wouldn’t let anyone get near the babies.
Very carefully, the rescuers placed the puppies closer to her.
She began caressing them and offering the warmth of her belly to the newborns.
The maternal instinct kicked in and…
after a few hours, she had milk and was feeding the puppies.
The rescue group named her Vida, which means “life” in Portuguese.
IM OK, YES IM OK, IT’S JUST RAINING ON MY FACE, I’M NOT CRYING, NO IM NOT-
He doesn’t know why he’s here - emerging naked and freezing from an unfamiliar body of water, shivering and injured. He doesn’t know where here is - or who he is.
He just knows that there should have been someone waiting on him.
He doesn’t know how that makes sense, or if this person even exists - but his heart tells him that this is not a figment of his imagination. He remembers nothing but a strong sense of affection and love for the being who must have once stood on the side of the lake, but hasn’t waited long enough - because there’s no-one there now. He’s well and truly alone, and he’s aching for someone that he doesn’t even know the name of - can’t even picture the face of.
When he finally thrashes and writhes through the water and reaches the bank, he collapses down on it, breathing heavily. He’s not worried about modesty - there’s no sound for miles around, and he’s far out in the middle of nowhere, from what he can see. He’s only worried about the deep, burning ache in his stomach for the being that he wants so badly - wants for comfort, for reassurance that he even exists - and so he stands and waits patiently. Just waits.
It’s forty-one hours before he realises that no-one is coming and he gives in to his emotions and exhaustion, undignified tears beginning to spill rapidly from inhumanly bright blue eyes.
Dean Winchester, meanwhile, is miles away, having nightmares about that very same lake that the amnesiac now stands by.
I HATE EVERYTHING