duke athletics


I just saw that Duke University has a campaign just like my school’s! Shippensburg University of Pennsylvania launched the “Don’t Say” Initiative this past week and I fell in love with my school even more because of it. Go D2 Athletics!

easy like sunday morning

Alaric lay in bed for a good ten minutes. It was different, sleeping in a room that didn’t have his computer in it. It was easier to resist the urge to climb straight from the bed to the desk chair and start writing again. Third night he’d left the laptop up in the library, and he was sure he was sleeping better.

Today was different, though. Today, the bunker was half empty. Well, it was always rattly and empty, but half the inhabitants were off to Las Vegas. Dean had admittedly been nicer in the last few days, which made Alaric deeply suspicious, but maybe it was just his own good mood? A week away with his… boyfriend? Was that too flippant a word for the angel you were basically sharing a soul bond with? Whatever. A week in Las Vegas with Cas, time just to themselves, had to be nice.

Alaric dragged himself out of bed, and threw on an old gray Duke Athletics t-shirt over his sleep pants. He hummed to himself as he wandered out to the kitchen to put on a pot of water.

There was food in the refrigerator. More than usual. He narrowed his eyes, considering the options, and decided that maybe a little more effort was due, for a change. Something more than fried eggs and bacon. Three minutes of research online to remind himself of the recipe and Alaric cooked up a tiny saucepan of perfect Hollandaise sauce.

He smiled to himself as he boiled water to poach eggs in, instead of frying them up in a splash of oil, and prepared some spinach to sauté in butter.

It wasn’t until he started slicing bread to toast that he realized he was definitely making this a little healthier in order to appeal to Sam. He snickered at himself, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

[ @ sam ] If you’re here in the next ten minutes, there will be piping hot eggs benedict on the table. If you’re longer than that, it’ll be cold and depressing.
[ @ sam ] Also coffee and fresh OJ. :)

There. He turned on the grill for the toast, which was too thick and fresh for the toaster, and took the water off the boil.

anonymous asked:

Seeing as you've been on an awesome Holsom writing run, maybe you'd pls consider - “Could you not talk to him/her, please? I think they’re trying to date you.”

I’m sorry this took much longer than my prompt-filling normally does! I’ve been working on my original fiction, but I reached a good stopping point for a moment, so here you go!

Ransom watches in disbelief while the girl presses her pen against her lip and stares at Holster with big eyes. She’s nodding earnestly at everything he says, which makes her pretty brown curls bounce and spill over the cleavage she’s revealed with the top two buttons of her pink flannel shirt undone.

And Holster’s just fucking oblivious, Ransom realises. Holster’s just babbling away about economics. He’s talking with his hands and has gone Full Nerd, and Ransom wants to be embarrassed for him but there’s a strange burning sensation in his stomach that he can’t quite account for.

She had waltzed over to their table in the library earlier, her absolutely tiny shorts just barely covering all of her ass, her shirt unbuttoned, and she’d stared at Holster with a pretty grin on her face.

“You’re Adam right? I’m Tina. I think you’re in my econ class,” she had said before inviting herself to the chair next to Holster. “I’m having trouble with the homework, do you think you could help?”

And then she’d batted her eyelashes, started sucking on her pen, and giving Holster bedroom eyes.

And there was Holster, oblivious.

Eventually, Ransom can’t take it anymore. He has to leave. He has to be literally anywhere else.

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