you know what the cutest thing in the entire world is?
…Martin Freeman giggling
Just look at the way his eyes get all scrunched up:
and how genuinely happy he becomes when he finds something humorous:
his entire face lights up:
and it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen:
I had decided to order Chinese for dinner, and was currently awaiting for the delivery man to bring me my food. All I had eaten all day was some toast with nutella and my stomach was singing the song of its people incredibly loud. Work had been a great distraction earlier but now I keep finding myself staring at the flowers lost in thought. What did they mean? Why did he send them? They had no contact information so its clear he doesn’t want me to respond or at least say thank you. They really were gorgeous, and perfect too. If they had been long stemmed red roses I would definitely feel cheaper then I already do, but at least these seem like some thought went into picking them out. Finding myself lightly caressing the petals of one of the lilies I turn my back to the arrangement and head further back into my apartment towards my bedroom. I needed to distract myself until food arrived, at the moment my stomach was starting to knot and at this rate I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my moo shu.
Distractedly I plug my phone into my charger, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere tonight but I hated when my phone dropped below 47%. A glance at my vanity mirror had me pausing in shock. How I missed them this morning I’ll chalk up to exhaustion but low on my neck, the top of my shoulder really was a series of hickeys. That bastard had marked me up like some prepubescent boy! What are we twelve? Thankfully he did them low enough were a shirt and blazer combo would ensure they stay covered but that’s not the point. I’m not cattle that needs to be branded, and he has no right to lay such marks upon my person. Oh who was I kidding, I try to act all huffy but honestly its incredibly arousing to know he wanted to mark me. Guess he wanted to make sure I’d remember last night. Or I’m just over thinking this and he got carried away. Personally I’m sticking with the former because I’d like to believe in a hint of romance instead of just pure carnal lust. This distraction attempt really was failing miserably. Snagging a pillow off my bed I go back out to my living room to wait in misery for my food. This situation really did suck, I knew what I was getting into so why am I upset? What did he owe me? Nothing, that’s what. It was clearly a physical deal, no promises of forever were exchanged or even mentioned. And I really have no right to be upset over the singularity of the event nor how easily I went alone with it. I’m a grown ass woman. I can make my own decisions and damn it, its my life so I need to live it for me. And if I wanted to have hot animalistic sex with a rockstar then damn it I could. No judgement shall befall me not even from my own stupid mind.
The food thankfully arrived just as i had finished working myself into a self righteous anger over being able to screw when and who I want. Though I tried to shield him from my wrath I fear I might have left the poor delivery boy with the assumption I was about to disembowel him. Try as I might to calm down though I feared I was failing spectacularly. It was only when I tried to consume my attempt at a mangled moo shu roll that I leaned against my counters and took a deep breath.
“Get a grip girl, it was one night. One amazing night that you can write about in your diary and thats where it will end. You’re going to get your shit together, you’re going to eat this fucking food, go to bed and tomorrow you will behave as if the events after the concert never happened.” People always say that talking to oneself was the first sign of insanity but I say fuck them. It helps ground me and highlight ideas that sound ridiculous when not heard in the protective confines of ones own skull. My pep talk helped a little bit and I managed to finish two more of my Chinese burritos before packaging the rest of my left overs up for lunch tomorrow. Doing one last cursory glance around my apartment as I started to turn lights off I found myself gazing at the flowers one more time. They truly were gorgeous, even if all they were was a way to keep a woman happy and away from the press.
Settling into my bed was an interesting affair. Last night sleep came easy due to the emotional and physical exhaustion I was experience, that and the beers I had consumed probably helped too. But tonight no such luck, the Chinese food wasn’t kicking in fast enough and the soothing music of Sara Bareilles was doing nothing to help me into Morpheus’s arms. I tried counting sheep till I realized how utterly pointless and inane that was. Not to mention I’d get to sheep number 24 before I started thinking about how counting sheep even became a thing. My king size bed was a blessing and a curse right now. I was able to sprawl out in every which direction to try and get comfortable but the fact that I was able to do so just illuminated how empty it was. But I don’t need a man in it damn it. Maybe I should get a cat, I hear they’re easier in an apartment then a dog. Especially since I can’t do small dogs, and big dogs require too much work. No I can’t do a cat, blasted thing would probably eat Louie. Maybe after my fishy companion meets the big porcelain god. Truly though I need sleep when I start contemplating my fish’s death. Thankfully blissful night took me into its dark embrace a few moments later.
Ok Sleep didn’t work, I woke up feeling worse then I did last night. Damn two day time period for muscle soreness to really settle in. But that’s ok because I’m going to get my fat ass up, out of bed, and into a shower. The thought alone of that steamy nirvana helped motivate me towards upward motion.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I like to spend a good few minutes sniffing my shampoo and conditioner. I never knew pistachio and magnolia could smell so soothing, wish I at least had a man to scrub the shampoo into my hair. If I wouldn’t go broke within a month I’d pay to have a hairstylist wash my hair every time. I didn’t want to leave my watery heaven and face the outside world. But sadly I knew my little water heater wouldn’t hold out and probably twenty minutes into my quest for a watery home I’d be freezing my ass off. I hate reality sometimes.
Choosing my outfit for the day was a bit tricky due to the marks. I knew better then to try and cover them up with makeup, I didn’t own a strong enough concealer and it would just eventually melt away through out the day. Wide neck shirts were right out, guess I could always do the t-shirt and blazer combo. Snagging a pair of skinny jeans and flats I throw on a random t-shirt and blazer. Grabbing my computer bag and purse, I snag a poptart and I’m out the door. I couldn’t stand to be cooped up. Next stop Starbucks and a venti Caramel frappucino with toffee nut syrup. Maybe excessive amounts of sugar will help elevate my mood back to normal levels. I need just a bevy of good things in my life, and so far so good. My shower was heaven and so now I am about to have some divine caffeine and sugar. I can already feel my day starting to look up.
Tossing my bags onto my desk I happily sunk down into my office chair, took a sip of my frap and satisfied my inner child by taking it for a short spin. Sometimes its fun to indulge my immature side. Stopping just as I started to get dizzy I clumsily set my drink down and reach for my bag to get my laptop out. Plugging in the few cords needed I get my laptop booted up and crack my knuckles in anticipation of whatever is first on deck in my inbox.
“Well look whose back in the office.” Chirpy and yet some what obnoxious, props to my favorite coworker.
“I was out for one day and I was working from home you bitch. Here’s your decaf peppermint mocha by the way.” Courtney was my best friend in all senses of the word, I could totally use the term “Ride or Die” bitch to describe her. Me I’m more of the type on why do we have to die? Can’t we just ride or stay home and watch netflix?
“Oh sweet relief, darling I love you!” Flouncing into her cube directly across from mine I watch my friend happily taking a long sip from her drink. It really was nice to be back in the office. This was my life, common and normal. Just a young woman busting her ass through reports and business analytics. And for the next few hours I was able to completely forget about the other nights events. A knock on my cube wall drew my attention away from my screen to peer up at Courtney.
“Lunch?” Oh sweet goddess food! My attention finally grasping the intense gnawing hunger my stomach was emitting.
“Definitely! What were you thinking?” I was so hungry I was confidant I could easily take a cow down on my own and go all Bear Grylls on it. My stomach rumbled loudly as if to punctuate my statement with further proof of my famished state.
“You know better then to ask me that question dork. I don’t know, just somewhere where we’ll be served, I wanna be served today.” Personally I think she wants to be served everyday but I’m cool with that. Its nice to just be able to sit down and have others take care of your requests from time to time.
“In that case I vote for Italian. I could really go for some chicken parmesan right now.” God the thought of my favorite food was making my mouth water. I hadn’t had any since our other coworker had brought me some a month ago. For someone so sassy our coworker Josh makes a mean chicken parmesan.
“Italian it is! Giddy up girl, I still want to hear about whatever happened at the concert that you haven’t brought up yet. Clearly its not something traumatic with the band since you’re wearing their shirt.” Glancing dow I found she was right, the t-shirt I had grabbed was one of my concert shirts for her. Just the sight of the logo had my face heating up as I was assaulted with memories of strong hands, powerful thighs, and a driving force that made me cross my legs in reaction.
“You’re driving, you know I get too distracted from the road when we’re talking.” Self-depreciation colored my tone as I admit to one of my major flaws when it comes to driving. I’m fine on my own but get others and I’m like a kid with ADD, mind goes everywhere, its a miracle I’ve gotten this far with no accidents on my record. I snatch my purse up off my desk, check that I have my security badge on me and patiently wait as Courtney does the same at her desk. “I’m so hungry I could eat a giraffe.”
“A Giraffe? Thats random.” It really was to be honest.
“Its bigger then a horse, I honestly think I could eat a horse right now and still be hungry.” Waving at a few people as we exit the building I truly take in my friends outfit today. “You’re looking, well, bright today.”
“Aren’t I though! I’m so excited for my trip to Miami this weekend that I decided to dress up in celebration.” Dressing up was an understatement. My friend was rocking bright coral pants, a striped top full of coral and teal tones, matching chunky jewelry and bright white wedges. The white framed sunglasses taking up half her face just sort of completed the outfit in an odd way.
“I feel like we’re already there just by looking at you to be honest.” I put my shades on to emphasize my teasing. “Your hair matches perfectly with it too.” I gently tug on an errant blonde strand to prove a point. Her hair was so soft though, silky, straight, tame pretty much the antithesis of mine and I’m jealous every time I look at it. As if to sense my traitorous thoughts a random curl falls into my face.
“Actually I was wondering if I should dye my hair brown before the trip with maybe a few blond highlights, maybe curl it while I’m at it. Hell just give me your hair and I’ll be good.” This woman is crazy to ask to take on my curls. Reaching her SUV I take a look at myself in the tinted window to see how big my hair had gotten since stepping outside.
“You’re bonkers you know that right. Why on earth would you want this ill-tempered mess on your head. You do realize humidity just angers the beast further right?” My hair is not something I’d wish on my worst enemy. With big curls that just fell where they liked I snagged one of the frizzy bastards and stared at it in distaste. If it wasn’t for the fact that our area was having 85% humidity at the moment I would have totally straightened my hair yesterday.
“I think you’re the one who is crazy, I’d kill for curly hair. Only thing my hair does is just fall limp. Do you know how much volumizing shampoo I’ve bought! Probably enough to buy a huge big screen tv! And you just step out of the shower and go.” Not entirely true, it may look like that but I put a bunch of gel and oil in my hair before leaving the house.
“Rule number one of curly hair Court, once you’re done applying product you Do. Not. Touch. Otherwise frizz central is your destination.” Flipping down the visor I touch up my lipstick and casually adjust the collar of my blazer to firmly keep my neck covered.
“So you going to tell me about that mark on your neck? Or am I supposed to keep pretending I’m ignorant?” I’m fairly certain the shock on my face as I looked at her was quite the site. “Oh don’t look at me like that Zoe, its pretty obvious to spot. You have a bad habit of sitting on calls with the phone held in place with your shoulder, leaves the other side of your neck wide on display.” My face flaming I just try and hide behind my hands as I sink down my seat in mortification. “Oh come on Zoe, stop with the bashful crap and out with it. You haven’t mentioned seeing anyone lately so it has to be from a hook up so dish. Did you meet a hottie at the concert?”
“You could say that, though hook up is putting it mildly.” Ok I can do this, I’ll just give her all the details without giving names. “It would be more apt to describe it as an intense collision of passion and lust.”
“Should we be ordering wine at lunch for this tale? Sounds like someone got down with her bad self on tuesday.” Wine actually sounded pretty good, too bad we don’t work over in Europe would actually be able to get away with that over there.
“I wish we could have wine with this tale it definitely calls for it.” Taking a deep breath I prepare to try and get all the naughty details out before getting to the restaurant. “Long story short, I met someone at the concert, the attraction was instant, my panties dropped even faster if you can believe that. We were merely talking after the concert and the next thing I know his hand is up my skirt and mine are everywhere on him. Court he was amazing, gorgeous, built, and so good with his hands. And his voice! I mean I knew I already have a problem with his voice but to hear it actually being rasped right into my ear was amazing!” Honestly I don’t think amazing is a good enough descriptor, mind-blowing seems more appropriate.
“Whoa hold the phone! are you telling me that you slept with the lead singer! Martie Vance or whatever his name is?” Whoops, guess the cats out of the bag.
“Martin Vaughn Court! And well, yes.” Honestly, Martie Vance that just sounds wrong on so many levels.
“Well excuse me, not my fault he has such an unsexy name for a band frontman. Aren’t they like supposed to create a sexy name when they try to go into show biz?” She has kind of a point but I like how genuine he’s kept himself leads a little more normalcy to him.
“Hey I happen to like his name, makes him seem more real and not a pretentious ass like some other big names are.” The disbelieving look she just through my way at that reasoning was actually pretty funny. I can’t help it, I’m quirky in that way.
“Ok whatever, not going to argue his name of all things with you. What I want to know is how the hell you go from seeing the man in concert to supposedly fucking each other.” And from there I just spilled the beans about Hector the Gargantuan AKA Corey, being led backstage into the side room. About meeting Martin and how one minute I was babbling like a total twit and the next I’m on my back and his hands are everywhere and then we’re going at it like rabbits.
“Wait he called you Eggy?” Seriously thats her first question for all this.
“Really, of all the points in my story you could comment on first you choose his dumb nickname for me?” Priorities girlfriend, priorities.
“Well everything else is well, untouchably hot. I’m in no position to try and judge you on that just because damn wish I could bang me a rockstar. But seriously i think its cute how he tried to give you a nickname.”
“He did give me a nickname Court.” A horrible totally unsexy nickname at that.
“Zoe calling you a name one time does not make it a nickname, its a tease if anything.” Oh right, I haven’t mentioned the flowers yet.
“He sent me flowers yesterday and they were addressed to ‘Eggy’ so I think its a nickname now.” Still a really stupid nickname everytime I say it.
“He sent you flowers! How? Thought you said you only gave him your name! Sweetie don’t give your personal info out like that.” What the hell did she think I was twelve or something?
“I didn’t give him personal info just my name, I figured he googled me or something its not all that hard to do. I did it yesterday just to make sure he’s not some creepy stalker who followed me home to see where I lived.” Its a bit disturbing actually how easy it was to find out my personal information online.
“Sweetie if anything the man makes enough money just to pay someone to follow you home if anything. So what kind of flowers did he send? Were they roses please tell me they weren’t red roses. So cliche.” And that is why I love Courtney we’re generally on the same wave length when it comes to romance.
“No he didn’t send me red roses.” Chuckling lightly I describe the flowers finding out in the process one of the unknowns is called heathers, freaking nature nut.
“So you pretty much caught his eye, fucked him, orgasmed not once but multiple times, and then ditched him when the deed was done. And yet the man still sends you flowers the next day?” The disbelief was practically tangible in her voice. Hell when put like that I seem like a total bitch for what I did and don’t blame her for her shock.
“Oh come on Court what was I supposed to do? Stick around for the ‘You can get out now’ message? I already felt cheap at the end I wasn’t going to stick around for him to kick me while I was down.” Frustration was coloring my tone and I was barely keeping from a few tears leaking out. I wasn’t going to cry damn it, we’re on our way to lunch now is not the time for a fucking pity party. This isn’t the woe is Zoe hour damn it.
“How do you know that message was coming? Clearly that wasn’t the tone he was trying to set if he sent you flowers the next day. You didn’t even give the man a chance to get his feelings on the event out. You just ran like a coward. Not trying to be harsh chica but that was totally your dream come true. You idolize that man, practically moan like a bitch in heat whenever you hear his band has a new album or single coming out and you get the chance to fulfill every dirty little fantasy you’ve ever had about the man and you run. What is going on with you? Normally you’re this fearless person who just bulldozes her way through life with a smile on her face and a fuck you to people who try to bring you down.” Her gentle tones helped temper the harshness of her statements. She was right, everything that had happened that night was a fantasy of mine. A dream I never thought I’d get to have come true. Every girl wants to sleep with her celebrity crush just most don’t think it will ever come true.
We’re silent in the car as we pull into the restaurant parking lot and neither of us is willing to break it. I’m digesting Court’s words and she’s giving me the time needed to try and process the perspective laid in front of me.
“Court you always have a way of making me realize when I’m being a silly twit. But at the same time as much as that was a fantasy come true what was I supposed to do. Stick around and maybe he says he wants to try for something more? Stay together as fuck buddies? Travel the world with him when he tours? That’s the problem, no matter what there’s no future there, no possibility for something worthwhile. Just disappointment. He’s not some average guy who I can call up randomly and ask to go to the movies to see the latest superhero flick, he’s a rockstar. A popular rockstar at that, there’s no chance for anything to build there. I need someone here, someone who I can chill on the couch with and just be my relief form reality. I want a bubble, and a rockstar is definitely not a bubble.” And that’s really the root of my problem, there’s no hope of anything good coming from an extension of that night so better to quite before I fuck up further.
“Yea I can understand that. But girl you’re young you’ve got plenty of time to look for a bubble man, why not enjoy the amusement park before you resign yourself to a life on the couch.” Her teasing tones helped dispel the serious atmosphere that had fallen over us and I snort in laughter as we walk into the restaurant. Who knows maybe after some good food and more pearls of wisdom from my resident love guru I’ll get put back to rights.
Some of you are reblogging because you think its funny that programmers would talk to ducks. I’m reblogging because I think its funny picturing a programmer explaining their code, realizing what they did when they explain the bad code, then grabbing the strangling the duck while yelling “WHY WAS THE FIX THAT SIMPLE!? AM I GOING BLIND!”
AS A PROGRAMMER I CAN TELL YOU THAT THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU FUCKING DO WE HAD TO BAN THE DUCKS FROM MY CLASSES BECAUSE EVERYONE WOULD FLIP THE DUCK OR THROW IT AT A WALL OR SOMETHING WHEN THEY FIGURED OUT THE PROBLEM IN THEIR CODE
girls masturbate girls grow body hair girls have stretch marks girls get acne girls poop girls burp girls have all normal body functions that men do stop stigmatising all of it im so mad
guys get sad guys can bake guys break down guys want to be held guys cry guys scream into their pillow guys can have a hard time being manly so if you want us to see what you physically do as acceptable don’t mock us for being emotional
I love this
listen when guys layer shirts like this
that’s actually all it takes once that happens i don’t even need to hear him speak i don’t care what kind of music he likes or how he feels about obama or how many potential stds he has just give me that shirt on a guy and the next scene in our lives will be a wedding i am the definition of easy i just need some layered fabrics
I did this once and it was the only time a girl ever complimented me on my outfit