at least my comment is


Congrats on 4 million subscribers, Game Grumps!

Why Commenting On FanFiction Is Important

Alright kids, Boo here with a hopefully non-arrogant PSA.

I’m a writer of FanFiction because I like it and it’s my preferred genre (also a great way to receive feedback on writing that I can use on originals, bref). But like with most artistic work posted online, I have very little feedback.

When I was in a slightly writing rut, I cranked one shots left and right, nothing out of the ordinary. But instead of people commenting with their thoughts and good feedback, they just gave me requests.

I don’t think I could ever put into words what that felt like, but I’ll try (the irony of being a writer). It suddenly felt tiring, being a writer, and very quickly I stopped writing altogether. I only ever showed my friend what I wrote and left it at that. I haven’t published anything for a while after. It felt like people were treating me like a mule wanting me to do work for them, and I just wasn’t up for that. I lost my will to write, and then I began to think, “If I post something else other than what was requested, will people even read it?”

Then you get the infamous comments, “You haven’t forgotten about my request right??? Here’s another.”

That just adds anxiety and guilt. I’m purposely ignoring the comments to save my own uncreative ass, at least that’s what it feels like.

After weeks of convincing myself that my stories are worth sharing no matter how many people read them, I started writing and publishing again while working on some longer pieces. Slowly it got better.

Now this week, I remembered I joined another fanfiction platform, and realized I had never published anything on it. I had an idea, and so I started writing. It didn’t come out as I imagined it would, but I was so proud? Like, I started feeling happy about what I created again. Like genuine happiness that I haven’t felt in months since my last published work.

A few hours later, I get this comment:

I cranked out three 3k stories after reading this.

In four days.

It never happened before, and I don’t know how many times it will happen again. It was one comment, but it gave me so much fighting spirit that I think I’m on my way to regaining my initial writer mindset.

Fanfiction writers depend on feedback as a validation that their stories matter to people. If you’re wondering why your favourite author hasn’t updated/posted in a while, ask yourself, “Did I do everything that would convince them to continue writing this?”

The Fic Writer’s Beatitudes

Blessed are the readers, for theirs is the archive.

Blessed are the betas: for they help us write the stories we see in our hearts.
Blessed are they that kudo, for they reassure us that someone likes what we’ve done.
Blessed are the rebloggers and reccers, for they help the readers find our work.
Blessed are they which leave comments on a WIP that say something other than “write more please”: for they comfort us when we feel taken for granted.
Blessed are the commenters; for their words bring us joy.
Blessed are the loyal fans, for they keep the fandom alive.
Blessed are the fan artists, for they bring our worlds to life before our eyes.
Blessed are they which read an entire long fic and comment each chapter, for the string of comment notifications fills the writer’s heart with delight.
Blessed are ye, who rec our fics in public and tag us, for seeing that we made somebody squee is the light in our days.
Rejoice, and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in fandom.

I’ll Stay

Just another Drarry thing I wrote because @theperksofbeingatotalnerd gives amazing prompts that I can’t seem to be able to not write

It was a bad idea. It was a terrible idea. But Pansy was handing him a new shot, his week had been awful and Potter was looking indecently edible from the other side of the crowded bar in his dark red t-shirt and black pants, which did nothing to placate the fire in Draco’s stomach pit, a fire that could rival with the one that his last vodka shot had burned through his throat.

He should say no. He could still refuse the little glass Pansy held in front of him and go home, pretend he never saw Potter there and that he definitely didn’t care. But then Potter looked at his way, all strong jaw and deep green eyes. Draco downed his second shot.


He wasn’t sure anymore if the heat he was feeling was due to the alcohol in his veins or the pair of eyes that seemed to follow him all night. He could feel them every time he turned to the bar or when he talked to Pansy (who was becoming rapidly tired of trying to pry his attention from another person) but, once he looked at Potter, the man was always talking to somebody else or not even facing him.

“Draco, you’re not hearing a single thing I’m saying. Again.” His friend complained next to him.

“I’m sorry, Pans. I think I’ve drank my limit and I’m really tired so-”

“Just go talk to him, Draco. He hasn’t taken his eyes of you all evening and neither have you.” She said, a fond (although a bit exasperated) smile etching her features.

Draco was shocked for a moment, but his eyes still roamed to where Potter was standing, nursing what seemed like a glass of firewhiskey in his hand while talking to the Weasel.    

“Don’t be daft, Pansy. He doesn’t…” He trailed off when he saw the girl dressing her jacket. “What are you doing?”

Pansy rolled her shoulders once and pulled at the lapels of the black leather jacket. Getting on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair lightly, a gesture she knew that wasn’t welcome.

“I’m going home, darling. And you are going to get over there and talk with the object of your dirty dreams.” She winked.

He did wish Potter only frequented his dirty dreams. That would be easy to explain. Him appearing in his daydreams however…

“Pansy, don’t you dare leave me he-”

With a pop, his friend was gone and Draco was left leaning on the counter, slightly tipsy (not enough to cloud his better judgement, but definitely enough for him not to risk losing a limb if he tried to apparate) and staring dumbly at the spot Pansy had occupied a few seconds ago. She couldn’t be serious about Potter, right? Just because they were partners now, it didn’t mean the gorgeous git actually wanted to… to what? Snog him? Fuck him? Date him?

Yeah, right Draco. The blonde thought to himself. That only happens in your regular dreams.

Still, there was something keeping Draco from going home right that instant. He couldn’t quite place it, though. He wasn’t sure if it was the tiredness he felt, like he didn’t have the energy to stand on his own slightly wobbly legs, or if it was the tingling he felt all over his body whenever Potter was near him. It was quite strange. The feeling of having all his body radiating heat but still feel like he couldn’t walk away even if he wanted to.

The problem was… Pansy be damned but she was right. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Not when Potter was still there, so near but oh so painfully far away from Draco’s reach.

And so, he asked for another firewhisky. And he stayed.


Ok, he was officially pissed. Pansy had left an hour ago and in that hour alone Draco had drank three more glasses of firewhisky and two tequila shots. All of those, allied to the few more drinks he had had with his friend, left the blonde in a quite unsteady state and feeling like in a haze. All his thoughts kept rushing to the front of his mind, one in front of the other, crashing and tumbling back to his subconscient, only to repeat the motion over and over again. Draco felt like he couldn’t grasp any of them, like trying to catch water only to have them sliding through his fingers. He wasn’t, however, drunk enough to not realize what those thoughts were about. Or rather, who.

Well, it was all Potter’s fault anyway. The specky git and his stupid kindness, and the stupid unkept black bird’s nest that he called hair, and his stupid gorgeous body, and the stupid sexy laugh that warmed his heart, and the stupid soft voice every time he says good morning when he arrives (late obviously) to their office. And… and… and the simple and easy way he made Draco fall head over heels for him.

Now, here he was, utterly drunk and still unable to look away from Harry Potter, that was currently…

Wait. Where was he? He was just there, right next to Longbottom and talking to Lovegood. Draco remembered because he had been wondering how someone could look so stunning leaned casually on a table and-

“Hi, Draco.”

The Slytherin jumped from his booth, head snapping to his left, from where the heavy voice had come. Green bright eyes met him and he found his mouth dry, throat working soundlessly at the sight in front of him.

“I… I was over there and… and I saw you here by yourself so I thought I might come and offer you a drink?” Harry stuttered, a light red staining his cheeks. Draco wondered why Harry wouldn’t just take his shirt off if he was feeling so hot.

Trying to stay calm and work through the Gryffindor’s words, he stretched his hand to get hold of the counter, aiming for a more relaxed position. However, in his alcohol induced state, he failed the counter rather spectacularly, his weight sending him tumbling straight to the floor.

Suddenly, Draco felt strong arms circling his waist, keeping him from falling face-front with the floor. Next thing he knew, he was being gently pulled into a vertical position again and he found himself staring at the curve of the raven’s neck, hands planted in the broad chest.

It all happened too fast. The skin under his long fingers was warm, even with the fabric separating them; the remains of man’s cologne and firewhisky couldn’t mask the musky unique scent of Harry, that washed over Draco’s senses leaving him even more unstable and with his head spinning; the desire of burying his face in the Gryffindor’s neck became almost unbearable and he could almost swear that the arms holding him tightened for a flick of a second. Only if he could…

“Malfoy?” The voice was soft, a calm question but the blonde was so absorbed in his new-found desire of tasting the bronzed skin in front of him that the sound of his name was quickly lost in the noise around them.

“Draco?” He asked again, this time a bit more questioningly. At the sound of his first name leaving Harry’s lips, the Slytherin was finally able to shake out of his stupor, finally looking up to meet the green eyes that searched his face. ”I’m going to let you go now, ok?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to scream it. He wanted to stay just a bit longer held by the strong arms that circled him, losing himself wondering how would it be to be held like this every day. He couldn’t however. So, gathering whatever was left of his dignity, he stepped back, out of the other’s embrace. Clearing his throat, Draco finally spoke:

“I’m fine, Potter. Err… Thank you. The floor was… slippery.”

The arched eyebrow that Potter exhibited told him that he didn’t believe him for a second.

“I am perfectly able to stand on my one, Potter. It’s not my fault people spill their drinks to the floor.”

“The only person in this spot was you all night, Malfoy. And you didn’t spill any drink, much to my surprise.” He argued, eyebrow still in place.

“Why, Potter, you’ve been watching me that intently?” Draco tried to make his heart not to stop at the idea.

Harry’s cheeks became crimson for the second time that night and he spluttered a little before being able to form a coherent answer.

“I just meant… you were here since I arrived and the floor isn’t wet.”

Draco looked at the floor, realizing how dry it was. Not even Longbottom would slip there. “Oh. Right.” He mumbled, scratching his head and still looking down, a bit lost.

Harry must have taken pity on him, because he just chuckled (Merlin, even his chuckle is sexy, Draco thought to himself) and waved a hand dismissively.

“Look, Draco, it’s fine. I just came here to ask if you wanted to have a drink with me but it’s pretty obvious you’ve had your fair share of them tonight.”

Oh, this was not good. The blonde could already feel his drunk brain preparing to do something really stupid and really, really reckless. And wasn’t that saying something considering who he was talking to.

“Don’t make assumptions about me, Potter.” He almost spat.

“I wasn’t! Besides, there’s nothing wrong in drinking a little too much some-”

“I’ll take you up in that offer.” Draco interrupted, not giving it a second thought.

“You… You what?”

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. He could still ask the bartender to let him use the floo to call Pansy. He should just leave.

“I’ll have a drink with you.”

But he had been making all the wrong choices all evening. Why stop now?

Harry’s eyebrows shot in bewilderment, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. Nonetheless, he signalled the bartender, asking for two more glasses of the wizarding drink. He looked at Draco once again, still the same expression etching his features. His bloody gorgeous features.

“Draco, are you sure? It’s fine if you want to call it a night.”

“I already told you I’d have a drink with you. Besides, I haven’t drank that much yet.” Ok, he was lying. But it wasn’t his fault anyway. Not when Harry’s eyes were finally set on him. Only him. Also, the sound of his name leaving the Gryffindor’s mouth still made funny things to his stomach. “I’ll stay.”


 The moment the words had left his lips, Draco had thought he made the wrong decision. But then Harry had smiled. A slow, tentative smile painting his filled lips, that quickly turned into a full force grin and oh, oh Draco was so lost. He would never know why the prospect of a few more minutes of talk and drinking with him would make Harry so happy. So wonderfully bright. But he wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t complaining then, and he isn’t complaining now, as the gryffindor talks about everything and nothing at all. He can’t quite catch everything the man is saying. His alcohol drenched brain doesn’t allow him to. He doesn’t care either. Watching Harry so loose and carefree is enough. He doesn’t even care about the fact that he had embarrassedly admitted he actually enjoyed watching those cartoon muggle movies with his cousin. What were they called? Kidney? Fisney? Oh, yeah, Disney!

No. He really can’t regret the moment he decided he would stay.

Only if the man in front of him would let it be forever…

The blonde shook his head, trying to vanish the wildling thoughts in it, but he quickly stopped as the world swayed in front of him. He was starting to have troubles staying up right. He just hoped Harry wouldn’t notice. He didn’t want to leave yet.

“Are you ok, Draco? I think you’ve really drank your limit.”

Nice moment to stop being oblivious, Potter.

“I’ve told you I’m fine.” Draco managed to assure, although he finally pushed the glass away from him.

The man considered him for a moment before seeming to decide it wasn’t worth the fight and launching himself in the conversation as easily as he slipped out of it. Draco was able to focus on what he was saying. For about thirty seconds. Soon, he found that not having a drink to cradle between his fingers left his hands free to touch anything. He started by intertwine his fingers, willing to keep his hands still. He looked at Harry’s face once again and he noticed the man was still rambling about something he wasn’t really hearing. However, his eyes quickly focused on the movement of the red lips. Well, not exactly the movement but rather how much he would like to run his thumb across the bottom lip and maybe his tongue after. Then his eyes followed the sharp line of the jaw, covered by a light stubble that he wondered how it would feel rasping his skin. But where he truly lost it, was when his eyes skimmed the broad chest that he had been held against just an hour ago. His brain was to foggy, his hands were free without him even noticing it and the desires he’d been trying to contain for months now hit him full force.

Shaky fingers left the safety of the counter in front of him and Draco stretched his arm, his fingertips softly colliding with Harry’s chest in a feather caress, only the tissue separating they’re skins. The man’s breath hitched (when had he stopped talking?) and soon the Slytherin’s hand was completely flattened above the raven’s muscles. Draco didn’t think Harry was even breathing.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He should step back and flee away from there. Except, his brain didn’t want to. He didn’t want to. The only thing that mattered was the man in front of him, the warm skin beneath his and the fact that he was desperately in love with Harry Potter and he had to be drunk to even admit it to himself. He was crazy, he was out of his mind. It was a weakness.

But Harry had always been his weakness.

And the touch was so personal. So intimate. He would hate Draco in the morning. Hell, he would hate himself if he was able to remember it. However, touching him so closely right now made him wonder…

“… how would it be to be close to you.” Draco whispered. He didn’t realize the words weren’t said in the privacy of his own mind.

Harry gasped, and Draco was able to feel it through his hand. It felt wonderfully. He was still dozy from the feeling when he felt the man in front of him step forward and circle his waist with a strong arm, pulling him closer. All too suddenly, the gryffindor’s face was right beside his, barely touching him but not quite. Draco shivered as the lips he had been admiring a few moments before brushed his ear in a quiet whisper.

“Will you dance with me?”

Draco could only nod.

It was a dream. It had to be a dream. Because there was no way that the Saviour, the Boy-Who-Lived, his long-time crush, was holding him through the crowd as they made their way to the dance floor. Once they arrived, had the centre of it, bodies dancing all around them and the music ringing in his ears, Harry held him even closer, their fronts completely flushed together. Wobbly legs, that Draco couldn’t blame on alcohol anymore, did little to support his weight and so he let Harry hold him, not sure he could stand on his own. Harry started to sway and move against him, taking Draco with him and, bloody hell, they might never talk again after tonight but for now… for now Draco had this and Merlin be damned if he was letting go of it.

Dancing with Harry was surprisingly easy. The man knew how to move (Well, what a shock! The git was good at everything.) and the confidence with which he swayed his hips against Draco’s could rival the one he had while riding a broom. Damn, it was intoxicating. Draco knew what he wanted to ride after seeing that. Harry held him song after song, leading them and humming lightly. They’re eyes never met, though. Their cheeks remained pressed all the time, their breaths damping the hairs next to their ears although none of them talked. After some time, Harry started to show the first signs of fatigue. His breaths were coming out sharper and they were dancing slower than the beat of the song. Draco was also starting to feel the effects of the night and the alcohol on his body, his head becoming hard to hold upright. So, since nothing would actually make him regret this tomorrow, he lowered his head onto Harry’s shoulder, his lips dangerously close to the man’s neck. One movement from him and he could suck a purple bruise into the dark skin. The raven, on the other hand, faltered a step when he felt the blonde’s head on him, and he really must have been tired because he was angling his hips slightly away. The Slytherin however, was not ready to let it end already so, summoning the last of his strengths he pulled Harry back to him and…


Mother of Merlin.

Potter had an erection. Harry was hard. He was hard while dancing with Draco. He was hard because of Draco. He wanted Harry for ages and Harry wanted him back.

“Shit.” Harry gasped, closing his eyes as their hard-ons rubbed together. “Draco, I-“

The man lost his ability to speak when moist lips made contact with the warm skin of his neck, an angry red hickey already being formed between Draco’s teeth. Once he let go of the skin, his tongue lapped the same spot he had just marked.


Draco didn’t even hesitate. “Get us out of here.”

“Draco, I don’t think you should-“

“Now, Potter.”

Obeying, probably for the first time in his life, Harry took his hand and tugged him all the away to the door, only sparing a moment to throw some galleons into the counter to pay for the drinks. When they finally made it through the door, they were both breathless and Draco’s fingers were itching to touch Harry again. He launched himself at him, only the wall keeping them from falling to the cold floor. In that moment, with Harry’s back against a brick wall and Draco’s front glued to him, they stopped. Their lips were hovering millimetres away and the blonde knew that, if that gap disappeared, there was no turning back. It only took him a glance at the bright green iris, almost inexistent because of the blown pupils, to make his decision. He closed the remaining distance between them.

Harry’s moan the moment their lips touched made Draco feel goosebumps all over his skin. The raven kissed him like he was drowning and Draco was air, it was amazing! Better than Draco had ever imagined. It felt so natural, like they had been kissing for years now. He knew that this would probably be over before the morning arrived, because Harry might want him, but Draco wanted all of him, so he let himself enjoy everything he could while he had it.

All too soon, the Gryffindor was gently pulling away and running his thumb through the blonde’s cheek bone, watching him so intently Draco could see the fire in his eyes.

“Merlin, you’re beautiful. I’m so sorry I never told you.” Harry whispered.

“Please.” Draco whimpered “Take me home.”

“I… I don’t know where you live.” He answered, confusion marking his features. Draco rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

“Yours. Take me with you.”

“But I…”

“Harry, please.” He pleaded while sucking a new bruise in the other’s collar bones.

“Ah, shit. Hold on to me.”

Draco was more than happy to obey. Harry tighten his grip on him and apparated them straight to his flat. Draco only had a moment to take in the dark hall where they were before his legs lost all the strength they had left. Apparition seemed not to be a good idea for someone as drunk as he was. Harry, always being the saviour, caught him before his knees even hit the dark wood floor. Suddenly, it all felt so surreal that Draco giggled. And once he started he couldn’t stop. He laughed as Harry hoisted him up, shaking his head with a fond smile playing on his lips. He was still laughing, his full body leaning on Harry for support, when the man crouched without a warning, picking up the slender man easily in a full bridal style. Draco squealed in surprise and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck when he started to move.

“Potter!” He hissed “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to bed” He answered promptly, kissing the small pout in Draco’s bottom lip. “Someone, which means you, drank too much tonight. You can barely stay upright, and I saw how much you had drank with Pansy before I arrived. Not to mention the hysterical laugh.” He smirked.

“So, you were watching me all night.” Draco drawled smugly while Harry pushed the bedroom door open with his foot.

The raven sighed sadly, and Draco frowned, suddenly worried.

“Draco, I’ve been watching you since we were eleven. And since you stepped into our now shared office with your irritating pride and confidence and that beautiful face. You have me since that day.”

“Wha- Harry, I… What do you mean?”

The Gryffindor snapped his fingers, and Draco watched as the blanket in the man’s bed backed up, revealing clean, white linen where he lowered Draco carefully. He had to admit it felt good to finally lay down in a comfortable bed. Harry made to step back but the blonde grabbed his wrist, not letting him move anyway further.

“Where are you going?” Draco asked desperately. It didn’t make any sense.

“To the living room, so you can sleep. You’re going to have a major headache tomorrow.” Harry answered neutrally, not quite meeting his eyes. It pained Draco, feeling him so distant when moments before he had him so impossibly close.

“Why?” He pushed, unable to keep the hurt from his voice. Bloody alcohol and its ability for making him such a sappy mess. “Aren’t you going to have me?”

Harry’s eyes snapped to his at that, wide and disbelieving. “I would never do that in the state you’re in Draco. You can’t make your own choices like that. You don’t really want this.”

“You’ll always be my choice, Harry.”

None of the man dared to breathe. They both stared into each other’s eyes, grey into green and green into grey, both searching for something that none of them knew if it was there.

Harry eventually sat in the edge of the bed, close enough to Draco’s hips that he could feel the waves of warm coming from his skin. He rubbed a hand through his face, sighing. When he finally looked again to the grey eyes, Draco could see the indecision swimming in the green. The hand that had previously rubbed so vigorously his face, hovered a little above Draco’s before cupping his cheek oh, so lovingly, and brushing a thumb through the soft marble skin. Harry lowered himself so they were face to face, the blonde’s head still comfortably nested in a pillow. Their lips brushed, as if the raven was asking for permission, and Draco nodded, just once. The kiss was chaste and brief, nothing like the one they had shared outside the crowded club, but it still warmed him inside.

“If you don’t hate me in the morning, we’ll talk. Yeah?” Harry whispered, just a little bit above Draco’s lips.

“Yeah.” Draco breathed, too tired to ask any more questions. They could wait for the morning.

When Harry made to leave again, the Slytherin combed a hand through the black mess in his head and looked straight into his eyes, shaking away the tiredness he felt so Harry could see how much he wanted it.

“Stay.” He pleaded.

The man wavered for a moment before making up his mind.

“Ok. I’ll stay.”

Harry tucked himself under the blanket and pulled Draco against him. “Forever if you’ll have me.”

“I do.”

BTS reaction to overhearing other members talking about their s/o

Seokjin: Jin overheard Jimin talking about you. “Have you guys seen y/n round an juic- OH HEY JIN!?” Jin is the type of guy that doesn’t get jealous that easy on the surface so he’d start joking around to mess with Jimin while dying on the inside.

“You mean her butt? Ahh yes, my jagi is beautiful but you better stop talking about her like that. You wouldn’t have even a little bit of a chance considering that you’re so small, you can’t even reach the things on top of a shelf”

Originally posted by jungkookiescookies

Namjoon: The most jealous guy ever. He’d hear Taehyung talking about you in your dress that you wore the other day. “Hot! Smoking hot!” Being angry as fuck he ran towards him. After a little talk he’ll eventually calm down.

“Smoking hot? Are you talking about yourself after I set you on fire? She is MINE, you know that.”

Originally posted by yoonseok

Yoongi: He’d be the most annoyed but also really subtle about it. He’d overhear Hoseok being pervy as always talking about how much cleavage you show. “It’s really hot. I mean I’d be a bit concerned if I was Yoongi, probably a lot of guys are hitting on her” Yoongi would just sit casually besides Hobie and change the subject after his comment.

“You’re right, but I was hoping at least my best friends would not talk about her like that.” 

Originally posted by minshoot

Hoseok: Hoseok is a weird ass guy. He’d be kinda proud of being your boyfriend and ignore the fact that Jungkook just talked to the others about you. “…and her hair! All around from top to bottom. She’s bomb.” Like Yoongi he would just join the conversation.

“I know kookie, this is my girlfriend how did I deserve her? Anyway aren’t you a little bit to young for her?”

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Taehyung: Tae knows what’s his and he is very protective of you and… JEALOUS. But only when you aren’t around. He’d overhear Namjoon’s kinky comment. “I’d like y/n to call me Daddy.” Jealous Taehyung mode on. 

“Well I guess it’s good to know that she SCREAMS Daddy while I eat her out and doesn’t have time to think about you.”

Originally posted by taemybae

Jimin: Cute mochi would be angry as fuck. Jin wanted to make one of his jokes but it turned out quite unpleasing for Jimin. “ see him like this we need something better. I know! Y/n needs to get naked starts laughing” 

“Hell no, Jin. You better apologize.” 

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

Jungkook: Usually Jungkook is the typical cocky and jealous type but his hyung Yoongi accidentally said that your his type. “I’d do her. Oh, I’m sorry Jungkook I forgot.” Kookie would get so angry on the inside but remain calm on the outside

“Of course… No, no problem. Even though it was quite inappropriate.. What, no I’m not mad”

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

YOUR BITCH IS BACK!!! And I’m better than ever.. not. Thanks for still liking and rebloging my posts. The school year is practically over so I have more time now, yeay!

Beyonce is no one’s mammy.

So the record-scratching comments from Adele and Faith Hill shortly after Beyonce’s Grammy performance came across as absolutely bizarre. In her earnest acceptance speech for her Album of the Year win, Adele praised her fellow artist’s vision for “Lemonade,” the album Adele’s “25” bested in the category. She also all but said Beyonce deserved the Grammy.

She then turned inward and noted how difficult it was to re-enter the music business to record the album, particularly as a young mother. As a music lover and mother, I was nodding in appreciation of her vulnerability and openness.

But then she said this: “My dream and my idol is Queen Bey, and I adore you,” she gushed to Beyonce in the front row. “You move my soul every single day. And you have done for nearly 17 years. I adore you, and I want you to be my mommy, all right.”

Shortly after, Faith Hill repeated the sentiment: “I’m older than you, but I want you to be my mommy, too.”

Both comments were made without the least bit of irony, but for this black mom, those words made me bristle — seared me down to my soul.

Beyonce Is Not The Magical Negro Mammy

Photo: Kevork Djansezian/Getty Images

Tutorial/ Work process

I remembered I promised (back in January, uff) to make some kind of tutorial or work process of this artwork, after some of you asked me.

So, here you go, from the beginning to the end in more or less 25 steps with photos and three short videos and comments :D.

Everything’s under the cut, because it’s a lot.

Keep reading

Pulling an Espresso Shot
I keep getting all those dumb-ass comments on how to spell espresso.
At least look at my posts first, even before thinking, “heeehee I am so smart let me correct this moron.”
You are not the first idiot to tell me it’s espresso. Think more before doing something stupid and stop wasting my time.
Thank you!


Hello, everyone. It’s been a while since I last posted anything. I’ve been working on the story for several weeks, but I wouldn’t finish it without my dear petal, @little-black-dress-24. It all happened thanks to your idea, your patience with me constantly tormenting you to read this stuff. So, huge thank you, E. And E, I’m really sorry for my dramatic, aesthetic, perfectionist ass. Luv yeh. xx

I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feel free to comment, share or at least like, if you fancy my work. 

Harry is a lawyer and he is faced with the challenge of cooperating with his new boss. The boss turns out to be a beautiful woman. 
Word count: 9,500-ish

You were sitting in a comfortable armchair with a cappuccino in a white coffee cup, right in front of you on a coffee table. You took a deeper breath from time to time to relax your tense body. You weren’t scared but you were nervous, in a good way. Finally, you achieved one of your career goals. You applied for your dream job in one of the best prospering law companies in the UK. You were determined to achieve your goal and so it happened. You were the first and the youngest woman to become a CEO in the company.

It was your first day and you were waiting for one of the Board Members to officially introduce you to the team. Your head was full of ideas on how to expand and develop the company. You were very excited about the job to a point where you couldn’t sleep at night because you were so full of energy and excitement for the new things to come.

You looked at a golden chain watch on your wrist and realised you should have been called inside about 10 minutes ago. You were tapping your fingers on your knees in excitement when you heard a man shouting in the office you were about to enter in the next couple of minutes.

‘You promised me this job and you lied to me, John! You know very well that it’s me who should have been given this job, I worked my ass off and I deserve it!’ you heard.

Hearing this, you felt an uncomfortable cramp in your stomach and a wide smile disappeared from your face immediately. Is someone getting fired because you got this job? That certainly wasn’t a good start, you thought. Several seconds later, the door to the office opened with force and a man stormed out from the inside. He was tall, very lean, dressed in a tailor-made navy-blue suit, white shirt and a black tie. His face was furious; eyebrows frowned, lips pursed in anger. When he noticed you sitting next to the door, his eyes lingered on you for several seconds as he was walking by, like he was examining you, wondering who you might be. Then he laughed sarcastically, spitting a silent ‘Obviously…’ under his nose. He disappeared behind the door and you were called in by Mr. Stevens as it was your turn to meet in his office.

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Whipped - Auston Matthews

Originally posted by werenski

Notes: Hola friends! This is literally one of my fav imagines that I’ve written so I hope you enjoy it cuties! Also look how beautiful he is in that gif!! I’m so in love.

Mentions: Like a few of the Leafs that I’m too lazy to write out

Warnings: Mentions of sex, nothing explicit or even steamy

Requested: Yes | No

Up Next: Jesse Puljujarvi

Teaser: “If you adopt us when you get married, we’ll make ourselves act five for you.”

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anonymous asked:

I once remarked on a book written by Donald Trump "Oh, I didn't know he had time to write a book with all the angry tweets he posts" to a customer. Said customer left a complaint about me (and included my comment, so at least she knew how to listen?) and so my managers had a word with me. They had a hard time being mad at me (they were laughing) because it was too funny of a comment I made, and the rest of the customer's complaint indicated she was mostly paranoid about being a Trump supporter.

Tumblr Fact or Fiction - Doctor Who - David hadn’t seen Billie since Doomsday, and was surprised when she appeared on the deserted street while filming The Stolen Earth

When the post making this claim first started making its rounds on Tumblr, many of us laughed it off because we knew it was completely false/made up. But the post caught on and became popular, worming its way into the fanbase as fact and showing up elsewhere online.  Even though it is entirely untrue, many people believe it (and spread it!)  Sure, it’s a semi-romantic notion (if you don’t get offended on David’s behalf that some people don’t think he can act unless he’s tricked into an emotional situation).  The truth of the matter is, the claim above is so very far from the actual truth - and there are plenty of ways to prove it.

Let’s break it down piece by piece.

Fallacy #1:  David hadn’t seen Billie since they filmed Doomsday

Fact: David and Billie saw each other plenty of times between the end of filming on Series Two and Billie’s times filming in Series Four.  According to the Doctor Who Magazine Special Edition - Series Two Companion, the final block of recording on series two ended Friday, March 31st of 2006.  A list of just some of the occasions when David and Billie were seen together after this (without getting into stalker-ish territory) include:
➤ June 2006 - David presented Billie with her award at the Glamour Awards ceremony
➤ September 4, 2006 - David and Billie attended the TV Quick/TV Choice Awards together (and both won)
➤ October 31, 2006 - David and Billie attended National Television Awards together (and both won, as did Doctor Who)
➤ early 2007 - David attended the play “Treats” starring Billie & Laurence Fox and left with them both after the play
➤ Dec 31, 2007 - David attended Billie’s wedding to Laurence Fox

Fact:  Doomsday wasn’t even the last episode shot in Series Two.  The production team scheduled filming on all of the Cyberman episodes together in a block - so Rise of the Cyberman/The Age of Steel/Army of Ghosts/Doomsday were filmed together in the middle of the shooting schedule.  The last episodes filmed for Series Two were the Impossible Planet/Satan Pit two-parter.  You can see evidence of this on David Tennant’s video diaries for the series – where he discussed filming Billie’s goodbye on the beach when they were really only halfway through the shoot, as well as Billie’s emotional final scenes for Satan Pit (and all of the exact shooting dates are available in the DWM Series Two Companion guide as well).

Fallacy #2:  David was surprised to see Billie when he turned around on that deserted street in The Stolen Earth

Fact: Billie’s first scene filmed for The Stolen Earth was David’s regeneration on the TARDIS set (which was filmed Friday, February 22nd, 2008 - according to the Doctor Who Magazine Special Edition Series Four Companion).  The goodbye-on-the-beach scene was recorded on March 5th.  The running-in-the-street scenes weren’t filmed until March 13th (and ran overnight into March 14th).  Basically, the street scenes were among the last scenes shot for the two-parter – David and Billie had already been on set together for nearly a month before he turned around to see her walking toward him on that deserted street.

Fact: The fact that Billie and the other companions were returning for the finale leaked in the press before the episodes even started filming.  The Daily Star leaked the returning cast information on October 8, 2007 (4 months before they would begin filming the two-parter).  In November (the 25th) The Daily Express claimed that Russell T Davies and David Tennant had persuaded Billie to return as Rose, with the Daily Mirror and Daily Mail not far behind with similar claims about Billie and David reuniting.  It would be a pretty sad state of affairs if all of the tabloids knew that Billie was back before David did.

Fact:  Billie always knew she was coming back (and David did too).  From the Series Four Companion:  “I knew I was coming back when I knew I was leaving,” explained Billie on Doctor Who Confidential, thinking back to her departure, which had been shot in January 2006, “We all made a little pact that I’d come back and do a few more.  I really love lying to journalists when they ask me if I’m coming back.  I’m sorry that I lied to fans, but I think it was a surprise worth waiting for.”

Fact:  According to Russell T. Davies’ book, The Writer’s Tale, Davies was having trouble writing the Journey’s End Bad Wolf Bay scene.  Before shooting on the two-parter began, Julie had mentioned that the Bad Wolf Bay scene as originally scripted just wasn’t working for her, and David had weighed in as well, saying it was tragic - and then Davies obsessed over it for a month (according to the time stamps on the e-mails in the book), agreeing with Julie that Rose wouldn’t go with Doctor #2, mentioning at one point that “I just realised, my plan to make the Bad Wolf Bay scene work - the one involving Voidstuff - won’t work, because I’d forgotten that Mickey has to be free to stay in our universe. Bollocks.  Julie’s upset. She’s saying, ‘Leave Mickey in the parallel universe,’ and I’m saying, ‘Too late! We promised Noel that we’d bring him back in Torchwood Series Three.’  Then later, in an e-mail dated March 1st, 2008, he tells Benjamin Cook that he’s re-written the scene again, giving more of the decision to Rose to put her in control - and that now, “Julie is happy, David is happy, phew, good.”  Not only was David fully aware that Billie was in the script, he was concerned/had input on her goodbye scene (and all of that was well before filming the street scene).

In Conclusion:  There’s absolutely nothing correct about that statement. Doctor Who is a television show, and David and Billie are professional actors (who must be booked well in advance, and who are given scripts containing their lines/the plot). They can act hurt without actually being hurt, look sad even when they’re happy inside, and can appear to be surprised/thrilled to see each other even though they’ve been filming together for weeks. They are also friends who get together socially, as well as making various public appearances together between the end of Series Two and filming on Series Four.  Both Billie and David always knew that Billie would be coming back, and Billie had been back and filming scenes for Series 4 (including other scenes with David) long before the infamous deserted-street scene was shot.

I make no claim of being the keeper of all Doctor Who knowledge, and I’m certainly not perfect, but I am happy to share the sources that I’m aware of and provide a place to gather evidence as to the veracity (or lack thereof) of these claims.  I’m always open to other evidence that can shed light on the matter (but in this case the statement in question really is just totally made up and inaccurate)

Sources for this post:  

  • David Tennant Series Two video diaries (on the Series 2 DVD boxed set)
  • Doctor Who Magazine Special Edition - Series Four Companion
  • Doctor Who Magazine Special Edition - Series Two Companion
  • The Writer’s Tale - Russell T. Davies and Benjamin Cook

Other “Who Fact or Fiction” links (tag):
Judoon Platoon Upon the Moon
The shoes photo from The Idiot’s Lantern isn’t David & Billie (or is it?)