u know that feeling where you’re just preparing for the worst and shit keeps happening and things keep trying you and it’s like… rlly hard to think there’s ever gonna be a positive side at the end of it bc fucking god yh man mood
-in the winter, shitty sleeps naked because his room is overheated. bitty still wears wool socks and a sweatshirt in addition to his pajamas. they’re quite a pair.
-shitty can’t easily manhandle bitty the way the other guys can but he still tries. it’s not unusual for him to drop bitty.
-bitty retaliates by picking shitty up and carrying him to the nearest snowbank
-bitty likes to wear shitty’s clothes. it takes him a while to realize that means half the time he’s actually wearing Jack’s clothes. to his credit, jack has never seemed fazed by it
-bitty feels totally out of place when he visits shitty at Harvard, surrounded by all these very intellectual, very well-spoken academics, so shitty always takes him around to explore different parts of Boston so neither of them feel stifled by Cambridge
-(shitty prefers to come out to Samwell anyway. even if that makes him THAT alumnus)
-their favorite dates begin at the haus being chirped relentless by their best friends and end alone in someone’s room, determining just how badly they want to scar jack, and later chowder. (thin walls. very thin walls.)
i just saw a "relatable hamilton lines post" and i want to put something out before i go on hiatus, so here's a relatable 1776 lines post
• would someone shut that man up?!
• suh-WEET JEEZUSS
• A triumph. If I was ever sure of anything, it’s that. And if it isn’t… we’ve still got four days left to figure something else out.
• I wont put politics on paper- it’s a mania!
• Be glad you have the likes of John Adams to abuse, for no sane man would tolerate it!
• I have such a desire to knock heads together
•"Do you mean to say that it is not yet finished??“ "No sir. I mean to say that it is not yet begun.”
• What makes you so sure you can do it?
• Solitary, celibate; I hate it!
• wE ArE COoL!!!!!!11!1!1
• At a stage in life where most men prosper, I’m reduced to living in Philadelphia!
• BECAUSE IT’S A NEW IDEA, YOU CLOD
• I’m convinced the only purpose this Congress ever had was to gather here specifically to drive John Adams mad
• It appears Georgia is split right down the middle; The people are against it, and I’m for it.
• Why doesn’t New York just stay in New York??
• Hell yeah! I’m for debating anything!
• They speak very fast and very loud, and nobody listens to anybody else, with the result that nothing ever gets done.
• Oh for heaven’s sake, let me get through it once
Alright, trying not to cry while writing this post. I just hate the fact that this will be my last time, of sorts, that I will click that ‘Post’ button down there. Anyhow-
As some of you already know this is my last year in high school and that also means my finals are just around the corner. In order to study as much as I need to to be able to get into university I need to make sacrifices. And one of them is tumblr. I wish I wouldnt have to make this post but I need to.
I need to inform you that starting from tomorrow and until the 1st of July I will need to go on a hiatus. And before anyone is fast to click that unfollow button I am here telling you that this blog is NOT dead. We have just come to a season finale, that is all. The next season starts on July second. It is only a hiatus!
This is not something I want, under no circumstances. If it was up to me I’d be writing and posting evryday all year round but this is about my future. And I can’t be an asshole, neither to myself nor to my parents and teachers. They have all tried very hard, me included, to be able to come here and have hope that I can actually get to be something in my life.
I am not talking big here, never was. I’d like to believe I am a down to Earth person (minus the times I daydream about Supernatural) and as that I have decided to take this difficut decision. I could stay, yes, and go on hiatus for only a monthh or two before my exams but I can’t. I need to take this seriously. Other kids have been making this kind of sacrifices ever since the beginning of September and if I wan to achieve my goals I need to do this now.
I won’t be able to post however I will be able to reply occasionally to your mail (not inbox, the other thing though) and I would really love to keep contact with you. Again, the blog is not being closed. I am not quitting because I think that I have a lot more in me as far as energy, passion, love and stories are concerned.
That being said, I hope you all can understand my reasons to this break. It would honestly mean a lot for me to know that you suppot me through this because, honestly, it is about my future guys. It is important for me, more than anything else, and I can’t afford to lose this chance.
So, I guess that’s what I had to say. Here I have links to my masterlist(s) for every story minus those 20 I just uploaded! If you are looking for them just scroll down in my blog and you can find them!
I used to have the entire Masterlist here. Links for every story and imagine I wrote but tumblr obviously let me have only a certain amount of links. So I’ve split it up:
The only person that Barbara allows to call her ‘Barbie’ is Jason.
This goes back when they first met and worked together for the first time when Jason became Robin. Jason had always been fond of Barbara because she was this cool older pretty girl that he gets to work with and like you have to be an idiot to not find Batgirl attractive.
Whenever they were in their civies at events and such, Jason would call out to Barbara as Barbie much to her annoyance but she didn’t fight him because what’s the point.
“Hello Barbie, can I get you some refreshments?”
“Looking good, Barbie. You’re such a doll.”
“Smart and beautiful. You truly are a Barbie”
When Jason died, no one has called Barbara ‘Barbie’ since and she honestly misses it and having him around. One day when Jason came back as Red Hood, Barbara was curious about his Red Hood so she started to investigate him as Oracle and once day she managed to track him down.
“You were looking for me? I hope you’re offering me a job. I could use the money.”
“I never do business with the bad guy. I want you to stop killing people.”
“If you do your research, I only kill the bad guys. Scums who don’t deserve to live.”
“You’re just as bad as them. Batman will never let you get away with this. I’m warning you.”
“I don’t care what the old man says, Barbie. I’m doing this my way,” he says before disappearing into the night.
Barbara paused and realized that this Red Hood called her ‘Barbie’ and there’s only one person who calls her that. She knows Bruce has been investigating this guy and she wondered if it was her position to tell Bruce what she discovered. Whatever the case is, she knows the ending of this isn’t going to be pretty.
@whore4batfam Did I pull your heartstrings? I want to give you as many hcs before you go on hiatus so you’ve been warned. :)
Though her heels were high enough to keep her from doing so, she still stood on tiptoe to meet his lips, one of her arms wrapping around his neck and her other resting against his chest, her fingers balling his shirt. Her mind meditative and blank, she dared not count the days - weeks, months - since he had last kissed her like this, his hands strong and steady against her hips, his mouth pliant, his body so warm and male against her. By then, her lipstick had smeared on his chin, her dress riding up as he staggered her toward the bed in the apartment, the lights all off in the studio though a city glare shone through the balcony’s glass doors.
As she unbuttoned his shirt, his calves skirting the mattress, she knew the moment wasn’t ideal, that his medication made such things more of a challenge, that she still felt too full from dinner, but she pushed all of that aside as she forced his shirt off, then ran her fingers over his bare chest, across the expanse of familiar scars, too many of which she’d provided. You’ve hurt him too, she reminded herself. Just because he’s hurt you more recently doesn’t mean you have a right to hold a grudge.
Bringing her fingertips beneath his belt, she looked up at him, searched his eyes for hesitation, for abandonment, and when she found nothing of that variety, she unhinged his belt, let it fall to the ground with the buckle clattering against the floor. If this city held a steady state of noise, then she needed to start contributing; as he unzipped his pants, stepped out of them, she knew she would be doing just that soon enough.
Her palms against his chest, she nudged him onto the bed, so he sat back, moved toward the headboard. Although the distance made her uneasy, brought goosebumps along her arms, she found that the balcony’s sliding glass doors cast an attractive urban light onto her, some distant building’s lamplight shining down in a glow upon her skin, so with her hair in loose, long curls and her blood pulsing with just enough wine to make her feel warm all over, she stared him down, then softly brought her fingers to the zipper at the back of her dress.
Despite how her body protested with every movement, her desire too needy and overwhelming to care for such gestures, she eased the zipper down tooth by tooth by damned tooth, his eyes wide on her, his pupils dilating, his breaths jagged. If she were one for talk, she knew what she would ask him as her alabaster collarbone came into sight. Do you like this? What do you think is beneath my dress? Something pink? Something red? Oh, I know how you like me in red. Like your second-to-last birthday, when I wore those garters for you. Do you remember? And I wouldn’t even let you touch me, no, not allowed, not until I’d touched every single part of you, and then, then you would have your turn.
The zipper halfway down her back, she tilted her head, met his gaze with fervor.