what about meeee

Again, it’s super funny when people don’t understand that Blackout is just black people minding our business and that find they ALSO minded their business, there wouldn’t be any problems. But no, the world world comes crashing down when Black people have ANYTHING for themselves so you whiny babies will go “BUT WHAT ABOUT MEEEE” every single time.


I love you, Iris.


*slips $5 to Disney producers* *smooth whiskey voice* I want maleficent 2 to be about Diaval and Maleficent tag-teaming the evil in this world, have a black-wingy-themed wedding and have lots of cute bird babies.

Camren & I

Knowing Camren:

Me: I have to make two of my dreams come true. One with each of you.
Lauren: *Smiling at me* Okay….so, what kind of dream?
Me: I HAVE to touch your hair. I need to know if it’s real.
Lauren: sure, sweets!
Camila: wowww…and what about meeee??? I’m excited to know!!!
Me: Well………… *looking at Camila’s booty*…
Camila: Oh…shit!!!

Originally posted by teel-me-that-you-need-me

anonymous asked:

So Lottie, how is Harry celebrating his 35th birthday?

epilogue-compliant headcanon: 

heterosexual nuclear family get-together at the Burrow, ft. old friends, their high school sweetheart spouses and 90,000 badly-named offspring.

‘epilogue? what epilogue?’ headcanon: 

woke up to a blowjob, then, after work, was forced into some Nice Clothes and taken out for Posh Birthday Dins and played footsie with all night. currently en route to meet Ron and Hermione et al (the usual crowd, plus some unsuspecting Slytherins and newlyweds Dean and Seamus) for birthday drinks at a swanky wizarding club where Harry will get a bit drunk – but not too drunk – before heading home for his PRESENTS, including but not limited to a long, tender, Emmanuelle-esque SHAGGING SESSION. with Draco Malfoy. just in case that wasn’t abundantly clear. 

Puppy - Erik Durm

For months, I had been begging Erik to let us get a puppy, to no avail. I tried bribery, coercion, begging, but nothing worked. He insisted that as much as he loved dogs, neither of us were home enough to give it enough attention. I couldn’t argue with that, so I gave up on the idea altogether.

The morning of my birthday, I took advantage of the opportunity to sleep in since I had taken the day off. Groggily, I opened my eyes and saw the bright sunlight invading the bedroom through the window. I groaned and rolled over, anticipating to find Erik. When I reached over, I only felt mildly warm bed sheets.

“Eriiiiiik?” I mumbled, my morning voice husky. No response. “Babe?” I shouted, hoping he would answer so that I didn’t have to get up. I sighed and winced, sad to leave the comfy bed, but curious to find my boyfriend. I clumsily stumbled out of bed and into the living room, scanning the room for Erik, but finding nothing.

“Hello? Have you been kidnapped? Have you died?” I shouted dramatically as I walked straight towards the fridge in the kitchen. The moment I shut the refrigerator door, orange juice in hand, and turned around, I nearly tripped over a black and white fast moving blur.

“Oh my god,” I screamed, as I got a second look and realized the blur was actually a very excited puppy. Immediately, I dropped to my knees and was lovingly attacked by the jumping fur-ball. “Hi, Hi, Hi,” I cooed with a grin on my face as I ran my hand across the warm dog’s back.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” said a deep voice from above me. I looked up to see an amused Erik watching me giddily play with the puppy.

“Wha, how did, I thought you said—“

“I know,” he interrupted me, rolling his eyes and sitting beside me on the floor. “But there was a pet store right next to the jewelry store and I saw him looking all pathetic in the window and I just couldn’t leave him there,” he explained.

“Well I’m glad you didn’t,” I said, smiling gratefully, “thank you.” He nodded and leaned in for a kiss, but was interrupted as the small black and white puppy enthusiastically jumped onto Erik’s leg and began sniffing his stomach.

“Hey,” Erik said laughing, “that’s my stomach!” He picked up the dog easily and playfully held him in the air. The puppy proceeded to yawn and began licking Erik’s fingers, not at all frightened by the height. “What do you want to name him?” asked Erik.

“Hmmmm,” I thought. I leaned my head on Erik’s shoulder and watched the small dog run around the kitchen island upon being set back on the floor.

“What about Boots?” Erik offered. “Look at his paws, they’re completely black, they look like little boots.” He looked at me with his twinkly blue eyes and I could tell he was as happy as I was.

“Boots,” I repeated. “Boots, come here!” I beckoned to the puppy. He came racing over at the sound of my voice, but ended up slipping and sliding across the slick kitchen tile, causing both Erik and I to laugh.

“I love him,” I said, holding Boots up on his hind legs and letting him walk towards me.

“I love you,” Erik said, bending his head down to kiss the top of my head.

“And what about meeee?” I squeaked, pretending to voice the puppy as I lifted him towards Erik. He shook his head and smiled. “I love you too, Boots.”

After an hour of playing with Boots on the floor, Erik unfortunately had to go to training and the small dog and I were left alone. “We’ll go out to celebrate tonight,” Erik offered apologetically. I smiled at his thoughtfulness, but shook my head.

“No, when you come home tonight, we can walk Boots together and then order takeout. All I want is time with you,” I said kissing him as he made his way out the door.

“Ok, whatever you want Birthday Princess,” he teased, causing me to blush. “Bye Boots, take care of the Princess,” he called out to the dog, right before finally leaving. I shut the door behind him and turned around to find Boots laying on the ground cleaning his paws.

I should get some cleaning done too, I thought. “Come on, Boots, let’s go do laundry.” I walked towards the bathroom and heard tiny paws moving rapidly behind me. I dumped the contents of the hamper onto the floor and began sorting through the clothes. I decided to wash delicates first, which was mostly my stuff and one of Erik’s favorite jerseys; the jersey he wore at the World Cup Final. I left Boots and the pile in the bathroom momentarily as I went to double check that we had laundry detergent. However, along the way I picked up my phone and was quickly busied with replying to birthday messages. I completely forgot about the unattended pile of laundry and unsupervised puppy until I heard a small yelp from the bathroom.

I set down my phone and ran back to the bathroom, only to find a complete disaster. Boots was casually lying on the ground, chewing on Erik’s precious jersey. “Boots, no,” I shouted and the dog immediately left the jersey alone. Unfortunately, I was too late and as I picked up the tattered jersey, I noticed all the loose seams and small tears throughout. How such a tiny animal can do so much damage, I thought. I looked over at Boots who was completely oblivious to his mistake and was trying to hopping about, trying to reach the toilet. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” I sighed, and Boots took this as an invitation to jump on me and lick my face. I lied on the bathroom floor, and even though I knew Erik would kill me for this, I couldn’t help but laugh at the silly puppy.

I finished the laundry, cleaned the rest of the apartment, and set up Boots’ food and water along the edge of the living room wall. At least keeping myself busy distracted me from worrying about how upset Erik would be when he got home. As Boots and I were putting away the last of the dishes, I heard the front door open and saw Erik walk in with a bouquet of flowers. I frowned at the sight, which confused Erik.

“What, you love flowers,” he exclaimed. I chuckled and walked towards him.

“It’s not that, they’re beautiful, thank you,” I said, taking the bouquet from his hands and setting it on the counter. “But you’re going to regret buying them when I tell you what happened.” The poor boy was only getting more confused.

“There was kind of an incident with Boots,” I said, cautiously handing him his torn jersey, “but it was really my fault.” Erik stood there momentarily, his facial expression giving no indication of his feelings. I looked down to see Boots hopping up and down, wanting attention, before I looked back up at Erik, who had a small smile on his face. The smile transformed into laughter and he bent down to pick up the jubilant puppy. “Did you give Y/N some trouble today,” he cooed. Boots let out a small bark once before habitually licking Erik’s fingers.

“You’re not mad?” I asked, surprised. Erik just shook his head.

“How could I be mad at a princess and her puppy?” he said warmly. I sighed in relief and hugged Erik’s side.

“This is the best present ever,” I admitted, softly petting Boots.

“Definitely better than jewelry,” Erik said laughing.


  • Aria: Ezra is taking Mike out of town-
  • Aria: Ezra and Mike bonded and-
  • Aria: Well my parents trust Ezra with Mike-
  • Aria: Ezra and I are friends, he wants to be there for me-
  • Aria: I’ve known Ezra for like 2 years so-
  • person: *makes a post raising awareness for a group of people who are oppressed in some way, shape, or form*
  • oppressor: BUT WHAT ABOUT *insert oppressor group here*

\(@ ̄∇ ̄@)/

In which I am tired of white folks cryin’ about being ‘left out’ of #Formation

This is a collation of a twitter rant I went on; starting with this tweet

Brought on by seeing people whining about being ‘left out’ of Beyonce’s Formation video and SB50 half-time performance. I am done y’all with a capital damned D.

Also collated on Medium.com

Ok look, I’m cranky about all this what about me, you are leaving me out shit I keeps seeing by fragile white motherfuckers. Let’s talk, shall we?

Before anyone gets all surprised at me losing my cool? Remember I’m black, through and through. Light skin but still fucking black, got it? Good.

So, white folks who wanna cry about but what about meeee? Shut the entire fuck up. You already got everything else, quit cryin’. You got majority representation and power in every-damned-thing. So a song by a BLACK woman ain’t for you? Good, remember how it feels, cause that’s what we get 24/7 with no damn break. It’s just now we’re seeing slivers of more black folks in media.

We get crumbs y’all, but y’all stay whining about omg Bey left me out! There were no white dancers with her at the half-time show, why. Get some similac & STFU. It wasn’t for you, ain’t gonna be for you and that feels really, really fucking good. Cause we don’t get much as it is. Let us live damn.

It’s doubly shameful that a black woman comes out with a black as fuck song during #BlackHistoryMonth and y’all wanna trip. Not today satan, not today. If you decide you wanna try me for these tweets? I’m Chicago south side born & raised. You will regret it, I guarantee.

So fragile ass white people? Accept something’s not for you and deal, quietly in a damned corner. Forever. /fin

P.S: I can guarantee someone gonna try to call me racist over those tweets. You can catch these block hands too.