she-tips-her-head-a-lot

bluescarfvivi asked:

"Lewis! I'm back!" Vivi managed to shut the front door with her foot without having any of the grocery bags tip over. She just came back from the store and just at the right time too, since now it started raining outside. It wasn't hard for her to navigate to the kitchen and set all the bags down on the counter. One bag was smaller than the rest. There was a little sticky note attached to it with a heart and Lew's name on it.

Lewis’s head jerked up at full attention as the front door slammed shut.  Vivi was back much earlier than he’d expected.  Sounded like she had a lot of bags, too.

Lewis pushed himself out of his chair and stumbled as he attempted to take a step, having forgotten briefly that he currently had no legs with which to do so.  He gulped, realizing that Vivi still had no idea this had happened… but he couldn’t just let her take care of all those bags by herself, and he was sure she’d understand.  Hopefully.

Swinging himself into a slither, Lewis made his way over to the front door and gave Vivi a hug from behind, noticing how damp her hair was.  “Did you get stuck out in the rain?”  He plucked her glasses off and wiped them clean on his vest before placing them back on her face.

"Here, I’ll go get you a towel before anything."  He hurried off, hoping to get out of her line of sight by hiding his lower half behind the counter as he turned the corner to the bathroom.  She’d notice eventually, but he wanted to make sure she got settled in beforehand.

& truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue on what she’s doing. it seemed a lot easier back when she was in the store and her only concern was that it didn’t look too ridiculous. but now she’s in the bathroom, completely naked, trying to sort her way into this pink, lacy thing. & she can’t stop the stupid squeal that parts her lips when she tips over, just nearly avoiding a collision between her head and the corner of the tub.

Fic Commentary

@onceupona—ohyouknowtherest asked:

For the DVD commentary, one of my favorite scenes I’ve read in fanfiction yet:
“She frowned at him. “How do you know that? We did quite well this afternoon before your phone tipped me off that you were following my Instagram.” Her eyes widened in shock. “Oh my god, you’ve been following my Instagram account! You’ve never once said anything!” she accused.
“Must I remind you that I am desperately trying not to come off as a stalker?”
She stared in horror at her phone. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before shaking her head helplessly. “Nothing. I’m already embarrassed, what’s one more thing?” She looked at him sadly. “Look, I’ll make things a lot less awkward. Let me pay for the cup I broke and I’ll go.” She reached into her purse and started digging for her wallet. “How much do I owe you, Mr. Gold?”
“It’s just a cup.”
“I broke it.”
“I have insurance.”
She stood there with her wallet in her hand, grocery receipts hanging out of it like trailing ribbons. “Okay,” she said finally, stuffing the wallet back into her purse and hoisting it onto her shoulder. She set the chipped cup the counter, staring at it for a moment before looking at him, blinking back unshed tears. “It was very nice meeting you anyway.” She turned on her ridiculous heels and walked out the door, the bell jangling as the door closed behind her.
He cursed and walked to the window, watching her head to the harbor.
He pulled out his phone and checked his messages. There were twelve alerts from her account and, instead of going after her as he wanted, he clicked on the first one. It was a close up of one of the unicorns on the mobile, #Pretty #Mobile #Pointy. He smiled to himself as he went through her pictures, enjoying her unique view of his shop and her hashtag abuse #Puppets #NightmareFuel #Binoculars #Exquisite #Detail #Teaset. It was an interesting perspective until he came to one she had taken of him standing off to the side of his register. She was so sneaky about it, he didn’t even notice she had taken one of him.
#Sexy #SuitPorn #HairPorn #SilverFox #Gorgeous #Yes #I’llTakeHim #DearGod #HeHasAnAccent #OvaryExplosion
He stared at his phone, her rapid departure suddenly clear to him.”

Seriously, what made you come up with that, it’s awesome and hilarious and as a writer I’m so jealous! ;)
…and *internet hug* Yeah…today is sad. :(

onceupona—ohyouknowtherest

Keep reading

thecelestialruler

                                                        ☼☼☼ [ ℙ ♔ ℂ ] ☼☼☼
Sipping at her milkshake that she’d found, Tia looked up at the stranger, tilting her head to the side. “M’real! I’m Princess Tia- Um, Celestia! Who’re you?”

Heart was regretting a lot of things. He was regretting waking up this morning, for instance. As - yet again - he had been drawn into something far beyond his skill set and his talent was going to be no help.

He sighed, doing the mental equivalent of running headfirst into a wall.

"My name is Heart Tips. It’s lovely to meet you, Celestia."

How do you entertain a filly again? Heart’s brain was coming up with ideas that may result in mass property damage.

(Where’s Captain Rumdrinker and He-Who-Must-Only-Sing when you need them?)

motheranddaughter// roxy&mels

After her night, the hungover Roxanne Stark stumbled into work late with a bog full of shot glasses in hopes that it would smooth over her mother. Maybe, probably. She was hopelessly trying to fool herself. 

Adjusting the sunglasses onto her face, she made her way into the office. There had been a murder last night and she was the replacement for the other girl. Giving her a mock salute she rubbed her face, fuck, she drank WAY too much last night. Way too much.

Fuck my life.

"Hi, Mama. Here, presents." She didn’t even have to look up to see her mother’s face, she knew it. Tipping her head up she grinned, or tried too. She was going to get scolded for a lot of things. "Shotglasses, fun ones… "

sword - Isivia
for ravnreyes

"I’m not afraid of swords," Olivia said, slow and certain, hand slipping along Isaac’s cold jaw. "Or guns. Or cross-bows or needles filled with mystery serums." Eyes at half-mast, she settled onto his lap and tucked her head under his chin. "Not even those fangs."

Isaac kept his dark eyes trained on hers, unwilling to give in just yet. “Swords can do quite a lot of damage,” he murmured quietly, one hand tentative over her thigh. “Guns run out of bullets but swords can run through countless British soldiers.”

Olivia couldn’t help the smile that slipped over her face at that. “You would know, I guess.” A moment passed and she tipped her chin up to nuzzled against his cheek. “My point is, I’m not scared of you.” She rocked back a little to find his eyes and hold his gaze there. “I… I might… I might love you, even.” She gave a quiet laugh and a shrug. “That scares me, maybe, a little. But not you.”

Isaac worked through several words, still. “I’m not a sword,” he said finally. “I’m not a weapon. People aren’t afraid of swords. They’re afraid of people holding swords. I’m… I’m a monster.”

Barely a second passed before Olivia shook her head, drew Isaac in for a close kiss. “No. You’re a man. You’re my man. You won’t let yourself become a weapon and that makes you the furthest thing from a monster possible.” Isaac dropped his head but Olivia brought it up once more. “Just because your heart stopped beating over two centuries ago, doesn’t mean it’s not there anymore.” She kissed him again, calmer this time but with such heat bubbling beneath it.

Isaac exhaled long and loud at the ends of it. Eyes closed, he sighed out, “You make me feel like a man.”

With a careful smile, a hand in his hair, Olivia brushed her lips along his in a tease. “Let’s keep that feeling going, huh?”

3 Life Lessons For Any Age
A friend posted a question to Facebook this week. She’ll be turning 30 soon and was asking for any advice or life lessons or tips as she heads toward this milestone birthday.



I’ll be 32 in August. While not that much older than her, I’ve learned lots over the past few years. Two of my three hospitalizations (for mania) happened within the last two years. There’s nothing like a crisis to teach you some life lessons!



Here’s what I told my friend, and now you:



1. Trust your gut. Follow your instincts. This holds true for personal and professional plans. During my second hospitalization, I decided that I wanted to become a therapist. I was in the hospital arguing with the doctors and nurses, telling them how to do their jobs, and advocating on behalf of the other patients. I realized I could “do this.” I could become a social worker and advocate for consumers on a professional level. I already have one career, as a teacher. But if all goes according to plan, I’ll be in graduate school for my MSW in September.



2. Make time for your loved ones. People are more important than things. Hands down. Don’t make it a habit of canceling plans or putting off spending quality time with your family and friends. Yes, it takes an effort, and we are all busy. But you won’t regret it.



3. Make self-care a priority. Whatever restores you and feeds your soul: do more of that. I’ve always been interested in self-care, but over the last two years I’ve realized how important it actually is for mental and overall wellbeing. Self-care is so important to avoiding the burn out that can happen from work or home life. Make you a priority in your own life.



I don’t make any claims to being a life expert, so take my advice with a grain of salt. I won’t be offended. I promise! But I have become an expert on me. And living with bipolar disorder for the past eight years has taught me a lot beyond the three lessons I share here. Additionally, I’ve also learned a lot from my non-consumer life: school, work, relationships, family, and friends.



Beyond what I’ve shared here, I implore you to listen to your own truths. If you pay attention, your own life has taught you many lessons, too. In the words of one of my favorites, Ralph Waldo Emerson: “Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.”



And please share any lessons you’ve learned in the comments below!



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3 Life Lessons For Any Age

A friend posted a question to Facebook this week. She’ll be turning 30 soon and was asking for any advice or life lessons or tips as she heads toward this milestone birthday.

I’ll be 32 in August. While not that much older than her, I’ve learned lots over the past few years. Two of my three hospitalizations (for mania) happened within the last two years. There’s nothing like a crisis to teach you some life lessons!

Here’s what I told my friend, and now you:

1. Trust your gut. Follow your instincts. This holds true for personal and professional plans. During my second hospitalization, I decided that I wanted to become a therapist. I was in the hospital arguing with the doctors and nurses, telling them how to do their jobs, and advocating on behalf of the other patients. I realized I could “do this.” I could become a social worker and advocate for consumers on a professional level. I already have one career, as a teacher. But if all goes according to plan, I’ll be in graduate school for my MSW in September.

2. Make time for your loved ones. People are more important than things. Hands down. Don’t make it a habit of canceling plans or putting off spending quality time with your family and friends. Yes, it takes an effort, and we are all busy. But you won’t regret it.

3. Make self-care a priority. Whatever restores you and feeds your soul: do more of that. I’ve always been interested in self-care, but over the last two years I’ve realized how important it actually is for mental and overall wellbeing. Self-care is so important to avoiding the burn out that can happen from work or home life. Make you a priority in your own life.

I don’t make any claims to being a life expert, so take my advice with a grain of salt. I won’t be offended. I promise! But I have become an expert on me. And living with bipolar disorder for the past eight years has taught me a lot beyond the three lessons I share here. Additionally, I’ve also learned a lot from my non-consumer life: school, work, relationships, family, and friends.

Beyond what I’ve shared here, I implore you to listen to your own truths. If you pay attention, your own life has taught you many lessons, too. In the words of one of my favorites, Ralph Waldo Emerson: “Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.”

And please share any lessons you’ve learned in the comments below!

from Healthy Living - The Huffington Post http://ift.tt/1DVHs9O
via IFTTT

3 Life Lessons For Any Age

A friend posted a question to Facebook this week. She’ll be turning 30 soon and was asking for any advice or life lessons or tips as she heads toward this milestone birthday.

I’ll be 32 in August. While not that much older than her, I’ve learned lots over the past few years. Two of my three hospitalizations (for mania) happened within the last two years. There’s nothing like a crisis to teach you some life lessons!

Here’s what I told my friend, and now you:

1. Trust your gut. Follow your instincts. This holds true for personal and professional plans. During my second hospitalization, I decided that I wanted to become a therapist. I was in the hospital arguing with the doctors and nurses, telling them how to do their jobs, and advocating on behalf of the other patients. I realized I could “do this.” I could become a social worker and advocate for consumers on a professional level. I already have one career, as a teacher. But if all goes according to plan, I’ll be in graduate school for my MSW in September.

2. Make time for your loved ones. People are more important than things. Hands down. Don’t make it a habit of canceling plans or putting off spending quality time with your family and friends. Yes, it takes an effort, and we are all busy. But you won’t regret it.

3. Make self-care a priority. Whatever restores you and feeds your soul: do more of that. I’ve always been interested in self-care, but over the last two years I’ve realized how important it actually is for mental and overall wellbeing. Self-care is so important to avoiding the burn out that can happen from work or home life. Make you a priority in your own life.

I don’t make any claims to being a life expert, so take my advice with a grain of salt. I won’t be offended. I promise! But I have become an expert on me. And living with bipolar disorder for the past eight years has taught me a lot beyond the three lessons I share here. Additionally, I’ve also learned a lot from my non-consumer life: school, work, relationships, family, and friends.

Beyond what I’ve shared here, I implore you to listen to your own truths. If you pay attention, your own life has taught you many lessons, too. In the words of one of my favorites, Ralph Waldo Emerson: “Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.”

And please share any lessons you’ve learned in the comments below!

from The Huffington Post | The Full Feed http://ift.tt/1JMIxEt via latest news
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Walking

It occurs to me that I’m beginning to obsess over rubbish bins.

I know.

I swear I’ve seen that same one several times now. First it was tipped on it’s side with rotting food spilling all over the street. Now someone’s cleaned it up. My one bit of evidence in the area and someone’s fucking tidied it. Sherlock Holmes never had to put up with this nonsense.

I….may not have done much work this week. I now owe several people days off. My bank account hates me.

Even Carter had to give up and head home to do work.

Elsa simply told me to sod off. To be fair, she’s dedicating a lot more time to finding her biological parents.

Corstorphine’s not that huge in comparative terms. As in, compared to the rest of Edinburgh. There’s a couple of golf courses. But I’m not allowed in there.

Not since The Incident.

To be honest, not loads happened last week. I was just pacing through the city and that’s it. Perhaps Carter’s absinthe-fuelled sighting was a hoax. Or perhaps it was accurate, and they’ve since moved on.

It’s fucking frustrating.

I found another food waste bin. This one had just been moved slightly.

I know. Pointless, isn’t it?

So I spent my week walking. Walking and listening. Walking, listening, and thinking. And of course, I started trying to come up with more jokes for my standup routine.

Thing is about standup is that you never know what’s going to work until you go onstage with it. Or actually, maybe you do know if you’re good enough. That’s not me. Not yet. I’m still looking for my clown.

No, that’s not me. I should explain.

A standup has to ‘find his clown’. When you watch a comedian onstage, everything is contrived. EVERYTHING. Unless you’re an improv genius, and even so, standups are never the people you see on stage. For example, that standoffish charm Dylan Moran wields? As much as I wish he was like that in real life, that’s just his stage character. His ‘clown’. The mannerisms, the smoking, everything.

Not that I’d know. I saw him once and he threw a shoe at my head.

I’ve tried on many different clowns. I’ve tried the hyperactive 2-year old

The grumpy old man

Even the shirtless optimist.

That last one was very cold. Shouldn’t have tried it at the kids party.

See that? That was a rule-of-three thing. The first two pictures built, and then the final one was the funny bit. Or at least, it was supposed to be funny. I don’t understand why people’s brains like things in threes like that. Comedy is elusive. It’s subjective. But it’s so enduring. It’s the cheapest form of theatre available, and the most frequently attended.

Do you know who I really respect? Stewart Lee. He’s a marvellously technical comedian. He was one of the first I saw to actually draw the curtain back and show an audience the inner-workings of a joke. I wish I could do that, but I’m not quite good enough yet. Still. Watching him was an education.

Now I’m just talking as myself. Trying to master the illusion of being natural. As if everything I say is thought of at the spur of the moment.
I have yet to find my clown, but I think I’m on the right path.

So as I searched for the Chimps, I practiced. I walked and talked to myself, trying to find a flow. Hit a subject that sounded like it might have some comedic value.

After three consecutive days of toddling off on my own and searching, I had actually hit a flow. I don’t really know where it came from, but I developed a bit about clown porn. By my standards, it wasn’t too bad.

See, I get fascinated by the fact that I’m part of the last generation that remembers a time before the internet. And as we were amongst the first to use it, we experienced internet pornography at it’s very birth. There has also been a few columns that I’ve read recently explaining how watching porn affects your brain.

The joke is based on the supposition that your first exposure to internet pornography will stay with you and affect the type of erotica you’ll be interested in for the rest of your life.

Of course, the fictionalized ‘clown’ version of myself accidentally stumbled onto clown porn when he was about fifteen.

No, I’m not going to do any research.

Anyway, the joke follows a linear thread of heightening embarrassment. Really it’s an excuse for me to hum the Magic Roundabout theme tune at an audience and pretend that I asked my girlfriend to call me Bobo in bed.

That’s what I did. All week. Sorry. When I started this blog, I really hoped it would end up being some kind of fascinating, high-octane adventure that people would look forward to reading about every week. Instead, I just told you how I managed to write a joke about circus sex while avoiding the obvious punch line of a vagina being treated like a clown-car. That’s all I’ve got.

Well….not all.

I capitulated and went to work on Saturday and Sunday. Monday, I went out searching again, thinking it might be time to bite the bullet and actually re-comb Corstorphine nature reserve in the daylight.

Then I got the phonecall.

It was Graham “G-Spot” McCall. My ex boss. Old carrot juice himself.

“Hey bud….I’m sorry about last time” he started. That caught me off-guard. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him apologize or admit fault for anything.

“That’s ok.”

“Listen….is that lass with you? The one who gave me an earful?”

“….no. You’re safe this time, G.”

“Alright” I thought I detected a sigh of relief there, “ok. Right. I’m not gonna try and bullshit you like I did last time. This is a big deal, mate. You’ve got to stop posting the blog. It’s not just gonna get me into trouble. It’s gonna drop you in the shit, too. There are people you don’t want to fuck with.”

This was new. He sounded pretty serious. Thing is, you could never trust G-spot. He had his own agenda at all times. I was confused, but I wasn’t buying it.
Besides. Dude was a prick. And I was beyond needing a reference. I decided to let him have it.

“Leave off mate,” I tried, making no attempt to hide my contempt, “you can’t scare me with pretend mafia bullshit. You know, you were one of the worst bosses I’ve ever had in my entire life? It’s probably your fault the Chimps got out to start with, isn’t it? That’s why you’re being so persistent. Why the fuck should I do you any favours, you twat?”

The line went quiet for what felt like a minute. I resisted the great temptation to say ‘hello’ and check he was still there.

“That how you feel, yeah?” he said, finally.

“Yeah,” I said, unashamed. What was he gonna do, fire me?

“Then I’ll leave you be” said G. “Just a warning, though. You’re gonna get a call from someone. Definitely the cops, but probably someone else, too. And not cause I called them, neither. When you get the call, don’t go thinkin’ it was me.”

Bullshit.

“I’m not scared, G. If this was serious, you wouldn’t be going all cryptic on me. Either tell me what’s so serious or lose my attention.”

“-and have it turn up in your fucking blog? Christ, no. Just remember this, Sammy-boy. Remember old G-man called you first. Remember I fucking warned you.”

Dial tone. Dammit, I really wanted to hang up on him first.

I pocketed the phone and kept walking. I had already given Corstorphine and Murrayfield a good going-over, and was realizing the very real necessity to re-comb the Nature Reserve. I had to try, at least. In daylight, this time. Just, after my last attempt I’m kinda hesitant to go back.
The sun set. I found nothing. And for some reason, that creeped me out.  
G-Spot had been really insistent. Almost like there was something more to this. Something I should really know about the Chimps.
I shook myself. That’s the problem with G. You can’t give him headspace. It was a hoax. A prank. Lies. That’s all it was. A wind-up. That’s it.

I was, like…..eighty-five….eighty percent sure.

(CREATOR COMMENTARY)

anonymous asked:

She rests her chin on his head. She's still young and has a lot of time to choose. It wasn't long until her stomach grumbles,causing her ears to go bright red. "Oops.." She murmurs, clearly embarrassed.

his eyes flicker upwards only to catch a glimpse of the tip of his daughter’s nose, his smile turns into a small laugh upon hearing her stomach grumble, “is someone hungry?”