*rolls back into darkness*

It was still early enough out that it was barely light outside. Bitty cracked an eye open, groggily trying to figure out what had woken him up. He realized, after a short moment, that Jack had come back into the room. He rolled over to dimly see Jack’s dark figure moving around. After shedding his jacket and pants, Jack slid back under the covers. Bitty instinctively wiggled closer to him, but yelped when Jack put his cold feet on his bare legs.

“Jack!” he admonished.

“Sorry,” Jack said amusedly.

Bitty huffed and he rolled back over, but it didn’t take long for Jack’s cold fingers to slide across the bare skin of his stomach from where his t-shirt had ridden up. He pointedly ignored it even though there was no chance he was going to be able to fall back asleep now. Soon, the light touches became ticklish as Jack targeted Bitty’s weak spots until Bitty gave up all pretenses.

“Stop,” he laughed between gasps.

Jack stopped, though his smirk still had a mischievous edge. His hands had stilled for now, but they were still resting dangerously at Bitty’s sides. Bitty distracted him by running his hands through Jack’s hair. He dropped his head on Bitty’s chest.

“Where were you this morning,” Bitty asked quietly.

“Last minute errand,” Jack said vaguely.

They were both quiet for a while, mostly because Jack’s wandering hands had started to drift downwards and was now dipping teasingly just belong the waist band of Bitty’s pajama pants.

It didn’t lost long, however, because quiet, telltale footsteps came thumping down the hall. The door opened slowly, and then the quiet, “Daddy? Papa?”

Bitty considered pretending he was still asleep, but Jack sighed. “Yes, sweetie?”

Annie ran across the room and climbed up on their bed with some assistance from Jack. Once she was comfortable nestled between them, she looked at both of them with wide eyes. “Santa came,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Did he? How do you know?” Jack asked.

“I heard him. He came and he brought presents!”

Bitty glanced briefly at Jack. “Did you see him?”

She shook her head. “Nuh uh. I had to pretend I was asleep.”

Jack laughed and kissed her cheek. “Okay, Monkey. Why don’t you run downstairs and see what he brought?”

With a shout of glee, Annie launched herself out bed and ran as fast as her feet could take her.

Bitty eyed Jack. “Santa’s cutting it pretty close with his early morning visit,” he said sardonically.

Jack grinned and gave an easy shrug. “Santa had to pick up a limited edition dream doll house this morning.”

“I thought those were sold out.”

“Santa found a guy.”

“You’re going to spoil her, Jack.”

“Not as much as I’m going to spoil you.”

It was Bitty’s turn to laugh as he leaned in to kiss his husband. “So, did Santa bring me anything?” he asked suggestively.

“Yes,” Jack promised. “But it’s something for later,” he added with a wink.

My writing

I never liked brown eyes until it was Tuesday morning and you were going off about something incredibly ridiculous with your friends. You rolled your head back, laughed, and stared at me with buckets of beautiful dark gold that singed the edges of my vision forever.
—  Now you’re my favorite color #11
Moon of My Life

Member: Jun
Genre: FLUFFY ENOUGH TO HURT + Smut
Word Count: 2535


“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Junhui shouted beside you, almost knocking the half empty bowl of popcorn off of his lap. “THEY CAN’T JUST END IT THERE, CAN THEY? I GOTTA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT” he looked back and forth between you and the dark screen rolling credits in front of him.

“That’s Game of Thrones for you, babe.” you smiled, reaching over to hang onto his shoulder. You had spent the whole week binge watching the show from the moment you woke up until the wee hours of the morning with him. You had a lot of seasons to get through, and now you were officially caught up. You had already seen all of it, but Jun hadn’t. However he was hooked right from the beginning, and you enjoyed watching someone else go through all the excitement and pain of the show for the first time.

Keep reading

Raining Caves

               Thunder boomed outside the small cave Nico and Will were currently sitting in. The two boys were drenched to their toes and shivering from the cool winds that lashed outside their small fortress.

               “I told you we should have gone back the second the dark clouds rolled in.” Will stuttered through chattering teeth. “But who didn’t listen to me? The same guy who likes rain. ‘Oh don’t worry Will, a little water never hurt anybody’. Hah! It might not hurt but it’s cold and unfriendly.” Will pouted cutely as he slouched back against the rock wall he was next to. “I blame you.” Nico rolled his eyes.

               “I know. It isn’t like you haven’t said it about thirty times already. You know, if I didn’t know better, I would think you thought the rain was my fault.” That earned Nico a glare from the blonde. Nico thought it was funny how, even in the dark, Will’s blonde hair brightened the dark hole up, just like his crystal blue eyes.

               “You know the rain isn’t your fault. Us getting stuck in it is.” Another glare from the chattering boy.

               “Hey, how cold are you?” Nico just noticed exactly how Will was sitting with his knees drawn up and hugging himself as tightly as he could.

               “Nico.” Will said, deadpan. “I am soaking wet and the wind is blowing like no one’s business out there. How cold do you think I am?” Nico knew Will got cold easily, it was just his personality. But Nico didn’t know this would freeze him.

               Nico sighed and got up from his place on the other side of the cave-thing. He walked over to Will, whose eyes were glued to him the whole time, and plopped down next to him so they were touching. Nico slid his arm around Will’s shoulders and pulled him closer.

               “This won’t help much, but I’m less wet than you.” Will nodded and immediately curled up next to Nico. It was a bit awkward getting into a comfortable position, given Will was about five inches taller than Nico but they managed.

               The thunder never let up. Nico didn’t know how long Will stayed attached to his side before he finally sat up and looked at him.

               “Nico.” Will whispered.

               “Yeah?” Nico choked due to the closeness of Will and his lips.

               “I’m sorry.” Will leaned in and buried his nose in Nico’s neck, his hot breath warming Nico’s cold skin. Nico slowly wrapped his arms around Will again.

               “What for?”

               “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

               “I’m sorry I got us into this mess.” Nico murmured against Will’s soft hair. “It should be over soon.” Will nodded and stayed in Nico’s neck. “Then we can go to my house and eat some food.” He could feel Will’s smile on his skin.

               “And watch Hocus Pocus?” Nico smiled.

               “Whatever you want sunshine. Whatever you want.” Nico rubbed his shoulder some more and listened to the rain and thunder. Eventually the thunder let up, but the rain didn’t.

               “It looks like we’re going to get wet again.” Will muttered as the two of them stood on the edge of the cave thing.

               “It’s better than it was a while ago.” Will nodded.

               “Want to make a run for it?”

               “Will. Can you even run in the forest? You can barely run on flat land.” That earned Nico a punch to the shoulder.

               “Fine then. Want to walk really fast for it?” Nico smiled and rolled his eyes.

               “I’ll help you.” They were exploring the woods in Nico’s backyard, so Nico knew the way easily. Will, however, did not. “Come on.” The two of them stepped out of the cave and were hit by the rain pouring down on them. The thin canopy above did little to shield them from the rain, given that the leaves were already starting to fall off.

               Will slipped on some mud and started to fall, but Nico grabbed his hand and yanked Will’s body closer to him.

               “Hold onto my hand, okay?” Nico had to raise his voice from the harsh pounding of the rain on the forest floor. Will smiled and nodded, tightening his grip on Nico’s hand. Nico walked quickly, but not too fast, and the two of them made it to the clearing that Nico’s house was in. Once they were out they ran for the back door, flinging it open and rushing inside.

               “Oh that feels so good.” Will said as rain dripped from his hair, chin and delicate eyelashes. He turned his eyes to Nico. “That’s the last time I ever go exploring with you.” Nico rolled his eyes.

               “Just go get dried off and you know where there are some clothes you can wear. I’ll dry your stuff and give it back if you leave today. Which you won’t.” Will shook his head.

               “You know me so well.” Will took his shoes and socks off and waddled up the stairs and into Nico’s room, Nico following right behind him. Will pulled out ‘his’ drawer and took some clothes out of it. Nico went into his bathroom and tossed Will some towels.

               “Do you want bathroom or bedroom?” Will rolled his eyes.

               “Whichever one you don’t want.”            

               “Then I’m staying in here.” Nico shut the door and stripped, dried, and clothes himself in less than five minutes. Which, given how wet he was, was a magical feat. He knocked on the door. “Are you decent?” He called.

               “Yeah.” Nico opened the door to find Will just pulling up his pajama pants, no shirt in sight, his hair still slightly damp. Nico’s eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed red. Will looked over and smiled. “Hocus Pocus time?” Nico nodded. He was afraid of what would come out of his mouth if he opened it. He walked over to the shelf he kept his DVD’s and plucked the purple case out.

               “Here we go.” Nico almost choked on his own words, but managed to get them out. “What do you want to eat?” He turned around to see Will still shirtless, but slipping the shirt over his arms.

               “I don’t know. Whatever you want.” Will shrugged as he slid the shirt over his tan, muscular chest and torso. Nico bit back the tears of disappointment.

               “If you don’t decide then I’m going with pizza.” Will shrugged.

               “Find by me.”

               “The greasy kind.” Nico called. That got Will to flinch a little.

               “Fine.” Nico laughed as he walked to the kitchen and got some left-over mac and cheese out and heated two bowls of it. When he handed Will his bowl he smirked.

               “Thought I was actually going to feed the health nut greasy pizza, did you?” Will smiled and took a bite.

               “Of course not.” He said as the movie started. At the beginning Will finished his food and Nico handed him the rest of his bowl. Nico rarely ever ate more than that. Will had yelled at him enough for it. Will finished the rest of Nico’s bowl and the two of them watched the rest of the movie in silence. When it ended they talked over the credits.

               “I’m tired.” Will said as he snuggled into the blanket Nico got for him. “I’m going to sleep right here.” Nico rolled his eyes.

               “Because that’s a good idea. Come on, get up and go to my bed.”

               “Too lazy.”

               “I will carry you there myself.” Will scoffed weakly.

               “As if you could.” Will curled down and into Nico. “I’m sleepy. Our adventure has taken my energy away from me.”

               “Will, as if it could-.”

               “Sh.” Will shushed him. “Just let me sleep.” Nico shut up and let Will curl up next to him. It was silent for a while, and Nico was relaxed when Will grabbed his arm and yanked him down so Nico was lying next to him.

               “What?” Nico whispered as Will just looked at him with those blue eyes of his. Will brought a hand up and caressed Nico’s cheek ever so softly.

               His lips were even softer than his hands when they caressed Nico’s.

Three Tries, Five Words

I can’t begin to return the favor that @john-laurens and @ciceroprofacto have done, but hope this makes a small dent in my debt to their scholarship.

The first time could have been an accident. In the small, crowded room they shared that week with Meade and Tilghman, Hamilton hardly had enough space to turn around, let alone find a private corner. Given the situation, he must have thought that facing his best friend and bedfellow while undressing the most modest option. But it wasn’t strictly necessary to remove his shirt in order to take off his breeches, then nakedly stretch and shimmy like a horse relieved of its saddle, before Laurens had time to politely close his eyes or turn his face away. Nor was Hamilton’s amusement necessary when he caught the direction of Laurens’ gaze. And least necessary of all, Hamilton put his shirt back on before climbing into bed. Laurens blew out the candle and rolled back to back, grateful for the position and darkness that concealed his enjoyment of an image he thought he had not been meant to see.

Now, he wonders, “Why did Hamilton take the shirt off in the first place?”

The second time he chalked up to drunkenness. The lads had invested in a barrel of beer and drank it over the course of one endless night that a few of them didn’t even remember. Not too far into the binge, Hamilton and Meade almost simultaneously threw down their cards and announced they had to take a piss. As if by the power of suggestion, Laurens realized a minute after the door closed behind them that he also needed to relieve himself. Outside, he heard Meade laughing uproariously and in the gibbous moonlight saw Hamilton stumble as Meade smacked his shoulder.

“That’s piss in the snow, not an H!”

Laurens approached from behind and saw the word "HOWE” scrawled in neat yellow script in the snow on Meade’s side. On Hamilton’s side, he saw a squiggly line.

“John! Meade says I can’t write an H, which, of course is ridiculous because…” he teetered so hard to one side that Laurens rushed to prop him up. He put both hands on Laurens’ shoulders, looked resolutely into his eyes and said, as he lowered one arm, “You write with a better hand than I.”

He placed his cock in Laurens’ hand. Laurens did not draw it away fast enough to escape Meade’s raised eyebrow.

Now, he remembers that the next day, they groggily wrote Washington’s letters. The sound of the quill scratching the paper mocked their hangovers. Hamilton returned with a fresh sheaf of paper, looked over his shoulder and winked, “You write with a very fine hand.”

The third time seemed natural. They lodged in a farmhouse and all fancied the pretty oldest daughter. But the army had been marching for days and even the aides de camp smelled like soldiers. She had hauled out a large washtub and personally boiled enough water to fill it. Laurens found this out when he walked in on Hamilton, sprawled so that his legs and arms fell out of the basin. He didn’t flinch when Laurens saw him.

“Ah, my dear Laurens! It is most unfortunate that this tub lacks room for more than one filthy revolutionary,” he said, spreading his legs even further, as if to make more room for his friend.

All Laurens saw was the flesh between Hamilton’s legs floating heavily and freely in the water.

Now, he realizes that last part is all he vividly remembers of the whole event.

Laurens reads the passage in Hamilton’s letter for the fifth time:

“In drawing my picture, you will no doubt be civil to your friend; mind you do justice to the length of my nose and don’t forget, that I never spared you of pictures.”

And finally understands what Hamilton has been trying to tell him. He dips his quill in the ink, and writes passionately.

Musician

Crisp, painfully smooth sheets of paper sit on your stand for the first time. Notes and patterns now unfamiliar, exotic, exciting, that you’ll soon be able to sing backwards and trace out from memory.
You stutter through the phrases, stopping every now and again to examine the ink. Scratches and incoherent marks appear on the fresh page that mean nothing to anyone else but map out a routine, a journey, in your head.

The arrogant, relentless snap of the metronome pushes you forwards as you trip over the runs. Patterns slowly emerge through the music taking place. As you pack away, aching with the satisfaction of work well done, one phrase lodges itself in your head and circles around, kindling the excitement of coming back and working on something new for tomorrow.

You stumble into awakening and are warming up your fingers, rippling through scales before your mind has stopped sleeping. You’re rubbing your eyes and squinting at your stand long after dark, rolling your shoulders back to push away the fatigue for another half hour. Slowly, slowly, amongst the frustrated yells, triumphant air punching, maniacal tapping of rhythms and phrases every waking moment and relentless repetition, a piece of music is forming. Finally, the enjoyment of flying through the pages and knowing roughly what you’re doing thrills you.

It’s only two weeks away! You clench your fists and clamp back a yell at the page as you play the same mistake for what feels like the millionth time. You know every crevice of the music inside and out, but everything has lost that initial spark with the obsession of perfection. You take a breath and move away, to come back in a clearer mind and work through it slowly until the final puzzle pieces fall into place.

At last, the day has arrived. An odd mixture of serenity at your knowledge of the music and blind panic fearing nerves and mistakes settles over you, and your head buzzes with it in the background of every other like-minded performance. You glance down at the programme every six seconds to count how many pieces there are to go before you’re on. The inevitable call of your name catches your ears and you plaster a calm smile on your face as your mind starts freaking. You wipe your hands on your sides a thousand times as you settle your music and open the page. Chin lifted. Shoulders back. Fingers tingling. Deep breath…

It starts just like any other morning. Luke grumbles as Yuri rolls out of bed before falling back asleep. It’s still mostly dark outside, with only the hint of the sun on the horizon.

Jade is, unsurprisingly, awake already. If Yuri hadn’t slept in the same room as the man more than once, he would almost believe Jade didn’t sleep at all. Jade has a cup of coffee and the newspaper. He doesn’t acknowledge Yuri as Yuri makes his way to the kitchen.

Peony had offered to have their meals brought to them, but Yuri enjoys cooking. It’s relaxing, something he finds himself needing more and more often these days.

Luke had refused Peony’s offer before Yuri could himself though.

“No thanks,” he’d said. “Yuri makes the best omelets!”

Yuri can’t help but grin at the memory. It would be omelets for breakfast today then!

One by one, the rest of the gang trails in. There’s a pattern to it, and Yuri cooks accordingly. Jade first of course, but Guy is always close behind him. Then Patty, Flynn, and Tear. Ion and Anise always come in at the same time, and the royals are always the last ones awake.

Natalia’s almost done with her breakfast when Yuri realizes the dish he set out for Luke is getting cold. Yuri picks up both Luke’s plate and his own and heads back to their room.

But Luke isn’t in their room, or the bathroom. Yuri starts to search the other rooms.

It turns out there is a small sitting room at the other end of the suite, opposite the kitchen and main living area. Luke and Repede are both there, but the sight makes Yuri pause.

“What on earth…”

Repede is wearing a little pair of wings on his back, next to a quiver. He’s also wearing what can only be called a diaper, though there is a hole cut in it for his tail. Yuri would have expected his friend to be annoyed about the goofy outfit, but Repede seems positively chipper.

“Now Repede!” says a voice.

Yuri watches as Repede takes an arrow from the quiver and hurls it in his direction with his usual pin-point accuracy. It smacks Yuri’s fore-head, dead center, and sticks.

“Bull’s-eye!”

“You are so lucky I didn’t drop this,” Yuri tells Luke flatly. Before his boyfriend and his dog get any more ideas, Yuri sets both plates on the table.

A table covered in a pink tablecloth. A vase of pink and red roses sits in the middle, and beside it sits a pink stuffed dog.

Yuri blinks.

Luke ignores the omelet – ignores it! – and throws himself at Yuri in a hug and a kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Luke says.

All the pieces finally connect and Yuri’s heart sinks. Their first Valentine’s Day as a couple and of course he forgot.

He must have been silent too long, because Luke is looking up at him worriedly.

“Yuri, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, trying to shake it off. “Happy V-day, Luke. Let’s eat.”

“Ooh, what did you make?”

Repede disappears (Probably to go take that costume off. Cupid, Luke? Really?), leaving Yuri and Luke to enjoy their breakfast alone. Luke is telling Yuri about a weird dream had involving Jade, Asch, and a banana suit. The chairs are close together so Luke is basically leaning into Yuri the entire time, and it almost takes the edge off.

“Oh,” Luke says as they finish the last of the omelets, “that’s for you, by the way.”

He hands Yuri the pink dog. It’s wearing a pink eye patch over its left eye.

“It’s Repede, see? Except I had to use an eye patch because I couldn’t find a dog with a scar.”

It’s kind of cute, in a demented sort of way.

“Sorry,” Yuri says.

“What’s wrong?” Luke says. “You don’t like it?”

“No. It’s not that that.”

Luke’s head is resting on Yuri’s shoulder and Yuri rests his own head on top of Luke’s.

“I do like it. But I didn’t do anything for you. I forgot.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Luke says with a laugh. He takes Yuri’s hand and twines their fingers together. “I kind of expected it, honestly. Flynn warned me. He said you used to forget your birthday before we started forcing those parties on you.”

Yuri flushes a bit. So he’s not great with dates. It wasn’t important. Before.

“Let’s just go out and do something,” Luke continues. “I got Anise and Natalia to convince Jade to agree to a day off. And I hear the waterfalls are kind of romantic.”

Yuri is trying to figure out how to nicely put his boyfriend off the idea. When he looks down, he sees Luke looking up at him, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, no. Sparring?”

“Hell yeah! Let me grab my sword!”

Luke dashes off, as though Yuri doesn’t also need to go back to their room for his own weapon. Yuri picks up the stuffed dog. He can’t help but smile at Luke’s ridiculousness. Nonetheless, when he goes to grab his sword, he tucks the dog deep into his bag.

No way he was letting Jade or Flynn see it. The teasing would never stop.

Dark is BEAUTIFUL

       'After posting my “indian actresses with bindi” post, I realized that there was no color in it, it was all white washed actresses. So I decided to make this photo set and let me tell you, these were so hard to find. And half of the actresses you see in this set like Amala Paul and Priya Anand are now pretty white if you search their recent pictures. Even Freida appears pretty white in her new Loreal paris ad. I guess we all already know how much Indian cinema white washes its actors to appear lighter than they are but my eyes rolled to the back when I searched natural dark actresses like Sonam Kapoor and Priyanka Chopra and there was literally little to no pictures of them appearing dark in public, they even seem to be white when they step out into paparazzi. I know most of my followers on here are naturally dark skinned so I just want to say to you guys, it’s ok to be dark skinned, you are as greatly talented as the people in this photo set. You do not need to take the emotional trauma from your relatives or people around you who say your skin tone is not great because it is. We just live in a society that likes to point out the obvious flaws in people and you do not have to conform to their stupid standards.‘ 

this is not an 11.09 coda

“Cas, please,” Dean says. “It’s four in the fucking morning.”

“Hang on,” Cas says. “This one just gave me fifty-seven fish. I can buy that scratching post now.”

Dean groans into his pillow.

“Dude, seriously,” he says. “I’ll blow you if you go to sleep.”

“Or do I want the heating stove?”

“Cas.”

“I’m not sure which one will get more cats to come to my yard.”

“I’ll do that thing with my tongue you like so much,” Dean says, desperate.

Cas frowns at his phone. “I suppose the scratching post is more practical.”

Dean says, “Cas.”

“I think I’ll buy the heating stove,” Cas says. “Oh. Look, Dean. It’s Tubbs.”

Dean rolls onto his back and stares up at the dark. He’s not fucking crying he’s just tired. And if he hears one more fucking meow coming from Cas’s phone he’s going to literally fucking lose it.

“I should have said yes to Michael,” he says “I should have let Dick Roman eat me.”

“What are you muttering about now?” Cas asks, not looking away from his phone.

“I should have let Cain kill me,” Dean says. “I should have let Death fling me into space.”

Cas’s phone meows. Cas smiles.

“Snowball just gave me some seeds,” he says.

“This is like, abuse, or something,” Dean says. “Neglect. I’m being neglected for cartoon cats.”

Cas flips through his phone. “The yard expansion was definitely worth it.”

Dean grabs his pillow and goes to sleep in the library.