anonymous asked:

I wish you would write a fic where Connor really loves Oliver's singing voice and after the breakup him singing "Ordinary People" is how he goes to sleep (this prompt got lengthy sorry)

just rip my heart out. it will be less painful. (also, this isn’t exactly it and isn’t exactly a fic bc i suck sometimes…)

Connor let the door of his apartment fall closed with a slam. Tossing his keys on a table and throwing the bag on a chair, he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. Twisting off the cap, he downed nearly half of it in one pull and leaned heavily against the counter. 

Today sucked and wasn’t even close to being over. There was still a paper he needed to tweak, a quiz to study for, and a mock trial to start prepping for. The thought of all that work still unfinished made Connor even more weary and he took another long draw off his beer. 

A break. He just needed a break. A few minutes to close his eyes and breathe a little. Just a quick stop to recharge the batteries a little before starting his all-nighter. 

Heading over to his couch, Connor laid out, stretching out his legs, pillowing arms behind his head, and let his eyes fall closed. He took a deep breath and tried to let some of the stress of the day go on the exhale. Deep breath in and long one out.  

Had the apartment always been this quiet? 

In and out.

It was like a tomb in here. Or a church. Or a library. 

In and out.

was that the neighbor’s cooking? Could he hear them chopping things and dropping things into pots? Was…was that normal? 

In and out. 

Oliver’s apartment was never this quiet. 

And, just like that, Connor’s mind was full of Oliver. 

Fuck it all. 

He’d been doing so well today. Oliver hadn’t been at Annalise’s that morning and Connor’d been in classes all afternoon so they hadn’t crossed paths until well into the evening. And, even then, they’d both been cordial and respectful and Connor’d been so proud of himself. Look at the two of them, acting like mature grown ups. 

Now, with one stray thought, all Connor could think of was Oliver and music. 

Oliver almost always had music playing in 303. Music he could hum along with as he cooked or sing with as he showered. Music on in the background to muffle the sound of his fingers flying over keys while Connor tried to study. Music on low to when they lounged in bed on Sunday mornings or made love or curled around each other on the couch. 

Even now, Connor could hear Oliver’s voice in his ear, singing along as he stirred something on the stove. 

In contrast, Connor’s apartment was so quiet, so still. It was missing life and love and Oliver. 

He was missing Oliver.  

Trying to banish the thought with a shake of his head, Connor resettled himself back on the couch and started over. Deep breath in and long breath out. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

i ripped my own fucking heart out because i was tired of feeling this way. i wanted to sell it in the market, or burn it and dance in the ashes.

i am tired of this ceaseless beating. i am tired of hurting. i am tired of you trying to convince me that somebody will love me.

only whole girls get a happy ending.

we both know that i am scarred, twisted, and broken beyond repair.

don’t even try to pretend you care.

When his beautiful wedding photos were used for a racist meme

Adam Harris got married, and then he and his wife turned into a meme. Their wedding photos circulated on Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram, annotated in ways that play on racist and sexist stereotypes of African-American men. The images were ripped from their intimately magical context and twisted into a ubiquitously bitter one.

The location of his wedding on September 13, 2014the Terrace Club in Dripping Springs, Texas — appears to be the sort of place where dreams are made and hearts are healed, not broken:

Harris’s Tumblr is like most others on the social network: a collection of mixed media, personal and aspirational. The original post of his wedding photos has nearly 10,000 notes. But it didn’t start out that way:

I shared a few photos from the wedding on my Tumblr page and it was normal at first. Just my friends who followed me reblogged the post. About 15-20 notes. … The initial sharing was mine. As one would expect, I was excited about my wedding photos and wanted to share them with family and friends. The meme-ification was completely random.

Harris’s sister-in-law first found the photos on a third-party Instagram account:

And then the meme got worse. Much worse.

The damage of the meme was done. Adam wasn’t.

Adam had one small option left to correct the internet’s digital cache of his own history: share his reaction on the internet again, for free, and hope as many strangers saw the response as saw the meme in the first place. It worked. In just a couple of days, his correction garnered more than 300,000 favorites, comments, notes, and shares just between two social media posts, never mind the countless others out there:


This guy is a victim of our spoiled and racist society. It is rotten through and through, and is not able to held responsible for its dirty deeds …

Unfortunately, black citizens become victims of ridicule on the Internet more frequently… American Society is brought up in such a way that people can not think differently! They did not think about the fate of this young man, when they made the laughing stock of his person … It’s disgusting and not funny!

I would call this situation a virtual lynching …

So every year my school has a mandatory 50s/60s themed swing dance and today was the swing dance. So I’m dressed up in a leather jacket and pretty much look like a greater from Grease or something and I’m dancing with my friend who’s partner ditched her. My friends has never seen supernatural. So we’re dancing, and suddenly a very familiar, painfully sad song comes on. Twist and Shout. I just stop dancing and look at the band. Because here I am, dressed in a leather jacket, on a THURSDAY of all days, at a 50s/60s themed dance. I had to excuse my self to go into the bathroom and cry because it’s Thursday, I’m wearing a leather jacket, the weather is beautiful and my heart was ripped open and torn to shreds by gay porn. My friend thinks I’m crazy.

My top Destiel fics you MUST read.

1:Twist And Shout

My first destiel fic I ever read was Twist and Shout and if you ship Destiel it is a fic you probably already heard about or read.
It’s super sad, it will rip your heart out. It’s beautifully written. I can’t even get past April 1965 every time I try and re-read it. But, it is NOT my favorite, runners up for sure

Find fic here

2:Painted Angels

I NEVER thought I would ever read a fic better or as good as Twist And Shout, But then fictionalanxiety told me to read a fic with her.Which was Painted Angels I fell in love. Favorite fanfic and if you haven’t read it you should! Like seriously,blown away. It is beautiful, made me cry from both pain and joy and just, it’s wonderful in all ways. You should also follow the author winjennster.

Find fic here 
Being taken off AO3 Feb 1st. Author is working on getting published.

3: Autumn Hollow

Second fanfic I ever read. It is chillingly erie and it leaves you on the edge of your seat through the entire ride. You end up playing a game of clue as you try and break down the mystery. Who is Dean? What is Dean?  It’s definitely a fic everyone should read.

Find fic here

4: Sweaters And Cigarettes

Great concept, Goth!Cas, nerd!Deann.  John drama, smut, it’s an all around good read.

You need an AO3 account to read it, which doesn’t take long to set up.

Find fic here

5: Blackbird Fly

Amazing amazing amazing fic. There is so much angst and its just amazing. My heart was swelling reading it. It leaves you on the edge for sure!

Find fic here

A Celtics Fan letter to Kobe Bryant with a twist. 


Dear Kobe Bryant,

I hate you.

Can you blame me?  As a Celtics fan, I rooted against you for two decades.  I rejoiced in your agony when my Celtics beat you in the 2008 Finals.  Paul Pierce deserved it way more than you did.  You already had three rings at the time.

But three just wasn’t enough for you.  You got your revenge and ultimately your fifth ring in 2010 while ripping my heart out in the process.  I hope you still know how lucky you are that Kendrick Perkins was out for Game 7.

I read your letter in the Players’ Tribune today and was shocked.  Not because you announced your retirement – we all already knew that.  I was shocked because of the way your letter made me feel.

In my mind, I have always grouped you and Derek Jeter together.  You are the players that we as Boston fans bitterly hate, but cannot help but respect.  You played the game the right way – with passion, pride, and professionalism.

You were true students of the game who pursued greatness by working harder than anybody.   You became generational icons of your respective sports.  You embraced every challenge.  You gave it your all. You put your bodies on the line.  You knew how to win.  You respected your sport, your craft, and your rivalry with Boston.

December 30 marks the last time that you will play in Boston.  This is also the last opportunity for us Celtics fans to cheer our team to victory against arguably the most dominant player in the storied history of the Celtics and Lakers.

As you go, so goes what is left of the rivalry that once dominated the NBA.  Perhaps someday it will be rekindled by new faces.  Perhaps not.

So when you come to the Garden next month, I hope the crowd puts you through hell.  I hope we heckle you and boo you more emphatically than we did in the championship bouts.  I hope you miss every single free throw.  I hope you never forget what it’s like to be surrounded by 17,000 screaming fans who bleed green and would give anything to watch you fail one last time.

I hope we beat LA once again.  

And when you get pulled from the lineup halfway through the fourth quarter when my Celtics are up by 20 points, I think something beautiful will happen.

Every single person in the Garden will stop booing.  We will rise to our feet and show respect in the form of the loudest, most passionate standing ovation you have ever witnessed.  We will chant your name.  We will wipe our eyes.  We will say our bittersweet farewells.

They say you never truly know what you got ’til it’s gone.  So before you go, I just want to say thank you for being far more than just a great basketball player.  To an entire generation of NBA fans, you are basketball.

I can’t believe I’m saying this… but I’m really going to miss you.

Love (and hate) you always,

A Celtics fan who didn’t appreciate you enough.